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THE Pagans, in painting Fortune Blind, discovered but the Dimness of their own Sight. And 'twas a double Errour, to offer Sacrifice to her, that could not discern her Votaries. Yet, in my Sentence, the Christians are more to blame, who term her Incon∣stant, Partial, Bawd, Whore, and what not?
These are Prophanations of Providence, and impious Scandals cast on Eternal Destiny. Fortune and Chance, are but Nick-names of Fate, since there is nothing absolutely Casual in the World. They see the Vertuous perse∣cuted, while the Vicious insult and flourish; and they tax Heaven with unequal Dispensa∣tion of Rewards and Punishments; as if with Epicurus, they thought the Adorable Numen, took no Care of Things on this Side the Empy∣raeum, and rested in an Eternal Ignorance of Humane Affairs.
Doubtless, the Infidels are in an incurable Error. They pore on the Outside of Common Events, and look no farther; they behold not the hidden Chain of Causes, nor the Invisible Hand, which disposes all Contingencies with admirable Order and Decorum. Hence it is, that what comes not to pass but by the certain Decree of Fate, appears to these Buzzards, only as an Accidental Occurrence, and the mere Effect of Chance.
But thou, who art instructed in the Do∣ctrines of Truth, wilt have other Thoughts of that, which befell a Poor Man not long since in these Parts. This Person was Cha∣ritable to Excess; for, he gave away all that he had, to relieve the Necessities of others, chusing rather to throw himself naked upon Providence, than to deny an Alms to any One that ask'd him; so long as he had any Thing to bestow. Being at length, by his constant Liberalities, reduced to a very indi∣gent Condition, he was forced to betake
himself to Digging for his Livelihood. Yet, notwithstanding he gained his own Bread with hard Labour, he ceased not to shew his wonted Kindnesses to the Poor, giving them whatsoever he could possibly spare from his own Necessities. One Day, as he was digging in a Field belonging to the Duke of Montmorency, he found several Earthen Pots full of Gold, supposed to be buried there in the Time of the Civil Wars. The good Man carries this huge Treasure by Degrees home to his House, with all imaginable Privacy. And, having distributed the greatest Part of it in Works of Charity, he was going with his last Reserve to the House of a decayed Gen∣tleman, to whom he gave a sufficient Sum to repair his shatter'd Fortunes, being all that he had left: When, as he returned home∣ward, he found a Jewel in the High-way, which being sold, yielded him Ten Thousand Crowns. A Noble Bank for new Liberalities, and a convincing Argument, that there was something more than Chance, which thus strangely recruited his Purse, that it might never cease to be opened in Largesses to the Poor.
Who will not say, That Fate had a Hand in the Death of that Souldier, in the Duke of Anguien's Army, who maliciously and wrong∣fully accused his Comrade, of raising a Mutiny? For, the incens'd General, took a Fusee, and discharged it at the innocent Person, thinking to have killed him on the Spot; but, it prov'd otherwise, the Bullet passing through some
Part of his Body, and through half a dozen Tents, smote the Slanderer in the Pan of the Knee, which put him into so violent a Fever, that he died in Two days; while the other (whom before his Death he confessed to be In∣nocent) lives yet a Witness of this Remarkable Stroke of Divine Nemesis.
The faithful Watchman of the Sublime Port, Mahmut, salutes thee with humblest Obei∣sance, and wishes thee in all Things, a favou∣rable and benign Destiny.
Paris, 12th. of the 8th. Moon, of the Year 1644.