THis Visit, (Dear1 Sophronia) which you intended but for an act of Kindness, proves also one of Charity; for though it be not many hours since we parted, and though you left me free from any other discomposure than that which your leaving me is wont to give me; yet this little time has made so great a change in my Condition, as to be, I doubt not, already visible in my Looks: For whilst I was sitting quietly in my Chamber, and was as far from the Thoughts of Sickness, as from any such disorders as are wont to be the occasions of it; and whilst I was delightfully entertain’d, by an Out-landish Virtuoso that came to Visit me, with an Account of the several attempts that are either made, or design’d· in foreign Parts, to produce Curiosities, and improve Knowledge; I was suddenly surpris’d with a Chilness, and a Shivering, that came so unexpected, and increas’d so fast, that it was heightned into a downright Fit of an Ague, before I could satisfie my self what it was. But I confess, that this unwelcome accident had not amaz’d me, as well as troubled me, if I had sufficiently consider’d to what a strange number and variety of Distempers these frail Carcasses of ours are Obnoxious; for, if I had call’d to mind what my Curiosity for Dissections has shown me, and remembred how many Bones, and Muscles, and Veins, and Arteries, and Grisles, and Ligaments, and Nerves, and Membranes, and Juices, a humane Body is made up of, I could not have been surprised, that so curious an Engine, that consists of so many pieces, whose Harmony is requisite to Health, and whereof not any is superfluous, nor scarce any insensible, should have some or other of them out of order, it being no more strange that a Man’s Body should be subject to Pain, or Sickness, than that an Instrument with above a thousand Strings (if there were any such) should frequently be out of Tune, especially since the bare change of Air may as well discompose the Body of a Man, as untune some of the Strings of such an Instrument; so that ev’n the inimitable Structure of humane Bodies is scarce more admirable, than that such curious and elaborate Engines can be so contriv’d, as not to be oftner out of order than they are; the preservation of so nice and exact a Frame being the next wonder to its Work-man-ship. And indeed, when I consider further, how many outward accidents are able to destroy the Life, or, at the least, the Health, ev’n of those that are carefull to preserve them; and how easily the Beams of a warm Sun, or the Breath of a cold VVind, or too much, or too little Exercise, a Dish of green Fruit, or an infectious Vapour, or ev’n a sudden Fright, or ill News, are able to produce Sickness, and perhaps Death; and when I think too, how many evitable Mischiefs our own Appetites, or Vices, expose us to, by acts of Intemperance, that necessitate the Creatures to offend us, and practices of Sin, whereby we provoke the Creator to punish us; when I say, I consider all this, and consequently how many Mischiefs he must escape that arrives at Gray-hairs; I confess, the commonness of the Sight cannot keep me from thinking it worth some wonder, to see an Old man, especially if he be any thing Healthy. But these kinds of Thoughts (Sophronia) are seldome entertain’d, unless they be excited by some unwelcome Occasions; and when we are long accustomed to Health, we take it for granted, that we shall enjoy it, without taking it for a Mercy that we are so; we are not sensible enough of our continual need and dependance on the divine Goodness, if we long and uninterruptedly enjoy it; and by that unthankfull heedlesness we do, as it were, necessitate Providence to deprive us of its wonted supports, to make us sensible that we did enjoy, and that we always need them: It being but fit that Mercies should cease to be constant, which, their constancy only, that should be their indearment, keeps us from entertaining as Mercies; I will therefore (Sophronia) endeavour to derive this advantage from this sudden Fit of Sickness, to make me thankfull for Health, when God shall be pleas’d to restore it me, and to keep me from reckoning confidently upon the lastingness of it: For though we are very unapt to take ev’n the Wise man’s Counsel, where he forbids us to boast our selves of to Morrow, because we know not what a Day may bring forth; yet by such accidents I find, that Solomon spoke much within compass, and had not done otherwise, if for a Day he had substituted an Hour: For so many, and so various are the unfore-seen accidents to which we poor Mortals are expos’d, that the continuance of our Health, or Prosperity, do much more merit our thanks, than the interruption of them can deserve our wonder. And I must confess, (Sophronia) that though my falling Sick may be but my unhappiness, my being so much surpris’d at it was my fault.
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Footnotes
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A name often given by the Author to his excellent Sister R. who was almost always with him during his Sickness. ↩