This Fancy looks at First Blush, as if it Border’d a little upon
_Prophaneness_; but if it be Taken by the Right Handle, it will bear
the Moral of a most Christian, a Necessary, and a Seasonable Check to
those People that deliver up themselves to the Transports of Extravagant
Passions for Trifles: As it was the Case of a Lady that kept her Bed for
the Loss of a Favorite-Puppy she had. Her Friends came to Condole with
her upon the Tydings of some Dismal Calamity that had Befall’n her, and
ask’d her very tenderly what terrible Misfortune it might be, that she
laid so heavily to Heart? Only, says she, the Greatest Affliction (I
thank the Lord for’t,) that ever befel Me since I was Born: _My Pretty
Pearl is Dead_. Alas Madam (says One of the Condolers,) Why you have
lost a very Good Husband. _That’s true_, says T’other, _but the Lord may
send me such Another Husband; I shall never have such Another Puppy_.
These Impetuous Violences, are no News to Any Man that has Observ’d and
Study’d the Infirmities of here and there One perhaps of that Fair and
Frail Sex. But we must not Imagine at last, because the Moralist has
made it a Woman’s Case in the Story, that we our Selves are not Guilty
Every Man of us, in some sort or other, and in a Thousand Instances, of
the same Weaknesses and Mistakes, even in the Ordinary Course of Human
Life; for what’s the Doctrin of all this upon the main, but a Rebuke to
those that set their Affections too much upon the things of this World,
and consequently too little upon Matters of Greater Moment; with him that
upon the Firing of his House, was so Overjoy’d for the Saving of his
Plate, Linnen, Paintings, Hangings, and other Rich Moveables, that he
never so much as thought of his only Child all this while that was Burnt
in the Cradle. Every Man has his _Feeble_, as they call it; One Man’s
Weak side is Ambition; Another’s Avarice, Malice, Envy, Revenge, Pride,
Vain-Glory; and some again are so wholly taken up with the Pleasures of
Wine, Women, Jolly Company and Good Cheer, as if all the Faculties of
their Reasonable Souls had been only given them to Subminster to their
Appetites. The very World it self, in One Word, is but a _Moor-Fields
College_ of People that run Mad for Common Disappointments.