<?xml version="1.0"?>
<!DOCTYPE issue SYSTEM "spectator.dtd">
<?xml-stylesheet href="spectator.xsl" type="text/xsl"?>
<?cocoon-process type="xslt"?>
<issue>
<title>The Spectator 163</title>
<header>
  <number>no. 163</number>
  <date>1711-09-06</date>
  <author>Joseph Addison</author>
  <quotation>-----Si quid ego adjuero, curamve levasso,</quotation>
  <quotation>Quae nunc te coquit, et versat sub pectore fixa,</quotation>
  <quotation>Ecquid erit pretii? --Enn. ap. Tullium.</quotation>
  <translation>Say, will you thank me if I bring you rest,</translation>
  <translation>And ease the torture of your troubled breast?</translation>
  </header>
<text>
<paragraph>ENQUIRIES
after Happiness, and Rules for attaining it, are not so necessary
and useful to Mankind as the Arts of Consolation, and supporting
[ones<footnote name="(1)" url="../september_footnotes/footnote163.xml"></footnote>] self under Affliction. The utmost we can hope for in
this World is Contentment; if we aim at any thing higher, we shall
meet with nothing but Grief and Disappointments. A Man should
direct all his Studies and Endeavours at making himself easie now,
and happy hereafter.</paragraph>
<paragraph>The Truth of it is, if all the Happiness that
is dispersed through the whole Race of Mankind in this World were
drawn together, and put into the Possession of any single Man, it
would not make a very happy Being. Though on the contrary, if the
Miseries of the whole Species were fixed in a single Person, they
would make a very miserable one.</paragraph>
<paragraph>I am engaged in this Subject by
the following Letter, which, though subscribed by a fictitious
Name, I have reason to believe is not Imaginary.</paragraph>
<paragraph><italic>Mr.</italic> SPECTATOR,<footnote name="(2)" url="../september_footnotes/footnote163.xml"></footnote></paragraph>
<paragraph>I am one of your Disciples, and endeavour to live up to your Rules,
which I hope will incline you to pity my Condition: I shall open it
to you ill a very few Words. About three Years since a Gentleman,
whom, I am sure, you yourself would have approved, made his
Addresses to me. He had every thing to recommend him but an Estate,
so that my Friends, who all of them applauded his Person, would not
for the sake of both of us favour his Passion. For my own part, I
resigned my self up entirely to the Direction of those who knew the
World much better than my self, but still lived in hopes that some
Juncture or other would make me happy in the Man, whom, in my
Heart, I preferred to all the World; being determined if I could
not have him, to have no Body else. About three Months ago I
received a Letter from him, acquainting me, that by the Death of an
Uncle he had a considerable Estate left him, which he said was
welcome to him upon no other Account, but as he hoped it would
remove all Difficulties that lay in the Way to our mutual
Happiness. You may well suppose, Sir, with how much Joy I received
this Letter, which was followed by several others filled with those
Expressions of Love and Joy, which I verily believe no Body felt
more sincerely, nor knew better how to describe than the Gentleman
I am speaking of. But Sir, how shall I be able to tell it you! by
the last Week's Post I received a letter from an intimate Friend of
this unhappy Gentleman, acquainting me, that as he had just settled
his Affairs, and was preparing for his Journey, he fell sick of a.
Fever and died. It is impossible to express to you the Distress I
am in upon this Occasion. I can only have Recourse to my Devotions;
and to the reading of good Books for my Consolation; and as I
always take a particular Delight in those frequent Advices and
Admonitions which you give to the Publick, it would be a very great
piece of Charity in you to lend me your Assistance in this
Conjuncture. If after the reading of this Letter you find your self
in a Humour, rather to Rally and Ridicule, than to Comfort me, I
desire you would throw it into the Fire, and think no more of it;
but if you are touched with my Misfortune, which is greater than I
know how to bear, your Counsels may very much Support, and will
infinitely Oblige the afflicted      <italic>LEONORA.</italic></paragraph>
<paragraph>A Disappointment in Love
is more hard to get over than any other; the Passion itself so
softens and subdues the Heart, that it disables it from struggling
or bearing up against the Woes and Distresses which befal it. The
Mind meets with other Misfortunes in her whole Strength; she stands
collected within her self, and sustains the Shock with all the
Force [which<footnote name="(3)" url="../september_footnotes/footnote163.xml"></footnote>] is natural to her; but a Heart in Love has its
Foundations sapped, and immediately sinks under the Weight of
Accidents that are disagreeable to its Favourite Passion.</paragraph>
<paragraph>In
Afflictions Men generally draw their Consolations out of Books of
Morality, which indeed are of great use to fortifie and strengthen
the Mind against the Impressions of Sorrow. Monsieur St. <italic>Evremont,</italic>
who does not approve of this Method, recommends Authors [who<footnote name="(4)" url="../september_footnotes/footnote163.xml"></footnote>]
are apt to stir up Mirth in the Mind of the Readers, and fancies
<italic>Don Quixote</italic> can give more Relief to an heavy Heart than <italic>Plutarch</italic> or
<italic>Seneca,</italic> as it is much easier to divert Grief than to conquer it.
This doubtless may have its Effects on some Tempers. I should
rather have recourse to Authors of a quite contrary kind, that give
us Instances of Calamities and Misfortunes, and shew Human Nature
in its greatest Distresses.</paragraph>
<paragraph>If the Affliction we groan under be
very heavy, we shall find some Consolation in the Society of as
great Sufferers as our selves, especially when we find our
Companions Men of Virtue and Merit. If our Afflictions are light,
we shall be comforted by the Comparison we make between our selves
and our Fellow Sufferers. A Loss at Sea, a Fit of Sickness, or the
Death of a Friend, are such Trifles when we consider whole Kingdoms
laid in Ashes, Families put to the Sword, Wretches shut up in
Dungeons, and the like Calamities of Mankind, that we are of
Countenance for our own Weakness, if we sink under such little
Stroaks of Fortune.</paragraph>
<paragraph>Let the Disconsolate <italic>Leonora</italic> consider, that at
the very time, in which she languishes for the Loss of her deceased
Lover! there are Persons in several Parts of the World just
perishing in a Shipwreck; others crying out for Mercy in the
Terrors of a Death-bed Repentance; others lying under the Tortures
of an Infamous Execution, or the like dreadful Calamities; and she
will find her Sorrows vanish at the appearance of those which are
so much greater and more astonishing.</paragraph>
<paragraph>I would further propose to
the Consideration of my afflicted Disciple, that possibly what she
now looks upon as the greatest Misfortune, is not really such in it
self. For my own part, I question not but our Souls in a separate
State will look back on their Lives in quite another View, than
what they had of them in the Body; and that what they now consider
as Misfortunes and Disappointments, will very often appear to have
been Escapes and Blessings.</paragraph>
<paragraph>The Mind that hath any Cast towards
Devotion, naturally flies to it in its Afflictions.</paragraph>
<paragraph>When I was in
<italic>France</italic> I heard a very remarkable Story of two Lovers, which I shall
relate at length in my to-Morrow's Paper, not only because the
Circumstances of it are extraordinary, but because it may serve as
an Illustration to all that can be said on this last Head, and shew
the Power of Religion in abating that particular Anguish which
seems to lie so heavy on <italic>Leonora.</italic> The Story was told me by a
Priest, as I travelled with him in a Stage-Coach. I shall give it
my Reader as well as I can remember, in his own Words, after having
premised, that if Consolations may be drawn from a wrong Religion
and a misguided Devotion, they cannot but flow much mare naturally
from those which are founded upon Reason, and established in good
Sense.</paragraph>
<paragraph>L.</paragraph>
<paragraph>1. [one]</paragraph>
<paragraph>2. This letter is by Miss Shepheard, the 'Parthenia' of No. 140.</paragraph>
<paragraph>3. [that]</paragraph>
<paragraph>4. [that]</paragraph>
</text>
</issue>
