The epistles of Phalaris translated into English from the original Greek by S. Whately ... ; to which is added Sir W. Temple's Character of the epistles of Phalaris ; together with an appendix of some other epistles lately discovered in a French ms.

Ep. 144. To Nicocles.

V. Ep. 78, 79.

I Have according to your desire written to Stesichorus about the Poem upon your Wife, and given him the Particulars of the Subject. He readily undertook the

Work,* 1.1 and promised to exert the utmost of his Abilities upon it, as hoping * by the Charms of his Muse to allay the Excesses of your Grief. 'Tis true indeed, your Unhappiness may seem too great to ad∣mit of Comfort, or be lessened by words, having lost in One and the same Person two most endearing Relations: The partner of your Blood, a Neece; and of your Bed, a Wife, both in Beauty and Virtue, far surpassing any Second▪ of her Sex. Thus pierced with a double wound, wasting your breath in doleful Lamentations, you languish in despair, and little matter whither you Live or Dye. Be not, Nicocles, so Cruel to your self, nor load Nature with a burden she is unable to bear. Such violent Resent∣ments, both betray a weakness unwor∣thy of a man, and will render your Wound uncurable. But come, Nicocles, let me argue the matter with you a little. Remove your thoughts some minute space from off your own Misfortunes, and place them upon the Common Fate of all Mankind, and the sad Necessities of our Mortal condition. We are all of us born to run through a world of Miseries, of which when every one hath received his allotted Portion; then hath he finished his Pilgri∣mage,

and is come to the end of his Course. The only thing that makes us in love with a Life so Miserable, is be∣cause we think nothing more Miserable than Death: and when we express such grief at the Death of our Friends, we consider not that 'tis ourselves we La∣ment; the Tears we shed at the Funerals of them that go before us being but be∣stowed upon our Own, so soon after to follow. This, Nicocles, is what we are all Born to. When we receive the Gift of Life we receive the Sentence of Death: a Sentence so Impartially execu∣ted upon all, that none have cause of Complaint. For the Tyranny of Fate is not more Irresistible than it is Impartial. Neither can Force withstand, nor Art elude, nor Intreaty Avert the Stroak. All Tyrant as I am, yet Fate is still a greater Tyrant than Phalaris. Lawless, Cruel, Inexorable, or whatever else the World may say of me, her Cruelty sur∣passes Mine. I am called an Absolute So∣veraign, but how Improperly so called, that fatal Hour will prove, when all my Castles, Guards and Arms shall be in vain. Or could I be that Absolute Soveraign, which no man can; not for my own sake would I wish it, to rescue myself out of

the hands of Fate (I am one whom many think, nor can I contradict it, unworthy to take out even my Appointed time) but that I might be able to save such men from Dying, who, let them live ne∣ver so Long, yet dye too Soon. But since we lye at her Disposal, not she at ours, we must submit with Patience: [Cease therefore, Nicocles, your unmea∣surable Grief] not only as being a thing vain in itself, but for fear of disquieting the Ghost of your Wife, to whom (if the Spirits of the Departed know what's done by them they leave behind) your Lamentations cannot but create Distur∣bance. She, who in her life made it her only business to study your Satisfacti∣on, and whose only Pleasure it was to see you Pleased, must even after death be grieved to see you grieved: nay, dou∣bly Grieved, not only at your Loss in being deprived of such a Wife, but at her Own also, in being taken away from such an Husband. Since therefore you are neither the First, nor the Only per∣son that hath felt the like Misfortune, bear a Common calamity with the Spirit of a man. The various Incidents of my Fortune have Familiarized me to the thoughts of Death: the common Fate of

kind, and the daily Spectacles of Mor∣tality, ought to do the like with you. Our Concernments cannot alter the Law of Nature▪ and the less a man Resents the Miseries of life, the more doth he Enjoy the Blessings of it.

* 1.2

Notes

• * 1.1

  V. Not. Ox.
• * 1.2

  Lego in Textu 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.