THE

R A M B L E R.

In FOUR VOLUMES,

VOLUME THE SECOND

Nullias addictus jurare in verba magistri,
Quo me cunque rapit tempeftas, deferor hofpes.

Hori

The SoxTH EDITION.

:

L O N D ON:
Printed for A. MILLAR, in the Strand;
), RIVINGTON; J. NEWBERY; R. BALDWIN;

S. CROWDER and Co. T. CASLON;
B. Law and Co. and B. COLLINS.

MDCCLXIII.

THE

RAMBLE R.

NUMB. 54. SATURDAY, September 22, 1750.

Hor.

Truditur dies die,
Novaque pergunt interire lune;

Tu fecanda marmora
Locas sub ipfum funus, et sepulchri

Immemor ftruis domos.
Day presses on the heels of day,
And moons increase to their decay;
But you with thoughtless pride elate,
Unconscious of impending fate,
Command the pillar'd dome to rise.
When lo! thy tomb forgotten lies.

FRANCIS.

To the RAMBLER. SIR, HAVE lately been called, from a mingled life

of bufiness and amufement, to attend the last hours of an old friend ; an office which has filled me, if not with melancholy, at least with ferious reflections, and turned my thoughts towards the contemplation of those subjects, which, though of the utmost importance, and of indubitable certainty, are generally fecluded from our regard, by the jollity of health, the hurry of employment, and even by the calmer diversions of study and speculation; or if they become accidental topicks of conversation and argument, yet rarely fink deep into the heart, but give occafion only to some fubtilties of reasoning, or elegancies of declamation, which are heard, applauded, and forgotten.

It is, indeed, not hard to conceive how a man accuftomed to extend his views through a long concatenation of causes and effects, to trace things from VOL. II. B