I observe that most of the Bills agree in one Expression, viz. that (with God’s Blessing) they perform such and such Cures:  This Expression is certainly very proper and emphatical, for that is all they have for it.  And if ever a Cure is performed on a Patient where they are concerned, they can claim no greater Share in it than Virgil’s Japis in the curing of AEneas; he tried his Skill, was very assiduous about the Wound, and indeed was the only visible Means that relieved the Hero; but the Poet assures us it was the particular Assistance of a Deity that speeded the Operation.  An English Reader may see the whole Story in Mr. Dryden’s Translation.

Prop’d on his Lance the pensive Heroe stood, And heard, and saw unmov’d, the Mourning Crowd.  The fam’d Physician tucks his Robes around, With ready Hands, and hastens to the Wound.  With gentle Touches he performs his Part, This Way and that, solliciting the Dart, And exercises all his Heavenly Art.  All softning Simples, known of Sov’reign Use, He presses out, and pours their noble Juice; These first infus’d, to lenifie the Pain, He tugs with Pincers, but he tugs in vain.  Then to the Patron of his Art he pray’d; The Patron of his Art refus’d his Aid. 
  But now the Goddess Mother, mov’d with Grief,
And pierc’d with Pity, hastens her Relief.  A Branch of Healing Dittany she brought, Which in the Cretan Fields with Care she sought; Rough is the Stem, which woolly Leaves surround; The Leafs with Flow’rs, the Flow’rs with Purple crown’d:  Well known to-wounded Goats; a sure Relief To draw the pointed Steel, and ease the Grief.  This Venus brings, in Clouds involv’d; and brews Th’ extracted Liquor with Ambrosian Dews, And od’rous Panacee:  Unseen she stands, Temp’ring the Mixture with her heav’nly Hands:  And pours it in a Bowl, already crown’d With Juice of medc’nal Herbs, prepared to bathe the Wound. 
  The Leech, unknowing of superior Art,
Which aids the Cure, with this foments the Part; And in a Moment ceas’d the raging Smart.  Stanched is the Blood, and in the bottom stands:  The Steel, but scarcely touched with tender Hands, Moves up, and follows of its own Accord; And Health and Vigour are at once restor’d.  Japis first perceiv’d the closing Wound; And first the Footsteps of a God he found.  Arms, Arms! he cries, the Sword and Shield prepare, And send the willing Chief, renew’d to War.  This is no mortal Work, no cure of mine, Nor Art’s effect, but done by Hands Divine.

[Footnote 1:  Dr. Zachary Pearce, Bishop of Rochester, with alterations by Addison.]

* * * * *

No. 573.  Wednesday, July 28, 1714.

  ‘—­Castigata remordent—­’

  Juv.

My Paper on the Club of Widows has brought me in several Letters; and, among the rest, a long one from Mrs. President, as follows.