8. They and we, this day observing, They are canting, whining, starving; We rejoicing, drink and sing. 9. Advance the emblem of the action! Fill the CALF's SKULL full of wine; * Men and Gods adore the vine. 10. To the heroes gone before us, Let's renew the flowing bowl, Whilst the lustre of their glories Shines like stars from pole to pole, THE METHOD OF CURING THE SMALL-POX, First written in the Year 1704, For the Use of the Noble and Honourable Family of March, by Dr. Arch. Pitcairn. Folio, containing one page. 1. IF F a child, or any person, grow sick, feverish, or has pain in the back, or slot of the breast, loss of appetite, drowsiness, short cough, sneezing, watery eyes, or some of these; but always accompanied with some heat, and frequent pulse or drought. In this case, blood is to be taken at the arm, or with loch-leeches; and, if the fever ceases not, though the pox appear, let blood a second or third time. Mean time, give the child a spoonful of syrup of white poppies at night, and in the night time, even till sleep or case comes. 2. After the pox appears, and fever is gone, then steep a handful of sheep's purles in a large mutchkin of carduus-water, or hyssop-water, • Admirable doctrine in the mouths of hypocrites, that pretend to so much sanctity! or fountain-water, for five or six hours; then pour it off without straining, and sweeten it with syrup of red poppies. Give of this a spoonful or two, every fourth or fifth hour, to make the pox fill, and preserve the throat. Always at night time and in the night, give a spoonful or two of the syrup of white poppies for a cordial; that keeps down the fever, and keeps up the pox. 3. If the pox run together in the face (which is the only thing that brings hazard) use the infusion of the purles, and the syrup of white poppies, oftener than in other cases; also about the eighth day from the appearing of the pox, or a little before that, give the child to drink of barley-water, sweetened with syrup of white poppies; this will make the child spit, which saves the child. 4. The child's drink may be milk and water at other times, or emulsion, but use the first rather. 5. Apply nothing to the face, Use no wine, or winish possets. 6. If any looseness comes before the fourth day of the eruption, stop it with syrup of poppies, and five or seven drops of liquid laudanum, given now and then till it be stopped. Let the child's diet be all along a thin bread berry in the morning, a weak broth, and soft bread for dinner, and milk and bread at night, or sugar-bisket and milk; and, about the fifth day from the eruption, give the child groat-broth sometimes. Nota, If, at any time, the small-pox disappear, with a raving before the fifth, sixth, or eighth day from the eruption, then let blood again, and apply a large blistering plaister between the shoulders, and give an emulsion. 2. If the small-pox fall down, without raving, then apply a large blistering plaister between the shoulders, and give an emulsion; and boil in a gill of water, and as much white or red wine, half a dram or a dram of zedoary-root sliced, two figs, and two scruples of theriac or diascordium; sweeten it with syrup of kermes and white poppies, each half an ounce. S. In the end of the disease, that is, about the tenth, eleventh, fourteenth, &c. day, after the eruption; if the child's defluxion is gross, either apply a new vesicatory, or give often the spirit of hartshorn, in syrup of violets, or a vomitor. Lastly, When the pox is blackened sufficiently, or about the fourteenth day from the eruption, let the child drink whey, eat pottage, &c. or broth with prunes, unless the child's belly is open enough of itself. But if the child is so young, or unlucky, as not to cough heartily, and force up the defluxion, or if the frost thickens it; apply to the slot of his breast a poultise of theriac, diascordium, alkermes, oil of rosemary, and cinnamon with warm claret, in a double linnen cloth often. 2. And to the throat apply, in a double linnen cloth, a poultise of cow's dung boiled with milk and soft white bread. Put a little brandy to as much as you apply at a time. 3. For the defluxion also give inwardly some of this, which has a dram of sperma-ceti, well mixed in a glass-mortar (not a brass one) with fine sugar; to which add at leisure syrup of violets, or balsamick, or poppy syrup, with some spirit of hartshorn. If the pox was confluent, or run together on the face, then, after the person is recovered, give a purgative, to bring away the remainder of the pox within the guts. A GOOD EXPEDIENT FOR INNOCENCE AND PEACE. Being an Essay concerning the great Usefulness and Advantage of laying aside publick Oaths, Edinburgh, printed by Mr. Andrew Symson, 1704. Quarto, containing sixteen pages, IT is agreed to on all hands, that nothing does so much contribute to the ruin of kingdoms and societies, as the abounding of vice and immorality. Wickedness, where it becomes outrageous, challenges heaven to vindicate its own authority, and arms God for vengeance against a people; and the more spreading and universal it grows, the greater mass of wrath is thence treasured up, and destruction thereby the more infallibly ascertained. And then, What overflowing inundations of fury may justly be apprehended beyond whatever this poor land has hitherto smarted by, from those monstrous heights of gigantick vice, which has swelled to degrees, that scarcely our very fears could have probably suggested? Witness all sorts of the most licentious villainies, that refuse to know any bounds or restraints! We have now beheld atheism so bold, that it no more skulks in corners, but outfaces the sun and men. We have lived to see religion openly scoffed down, and exposed as the only befitting quality of the more flegmatick melancholy kind of people; swearing and drunkenness the genteel fashionable form of behaviour; lust and whoredom the ordinary topicks of discourse; adultery, and viler uncleanness, brought to be the mode : perfidy and murder authorised. Finally, A contempt of all that is sacred and serious; and then it can be no wonder if we shall find iniquity become our ruin. And now, that matters are brought to so dreadful, so desperate an issue, the land groaning under such an intolerable load of sins and calamities; What man is so hard-hearted, so regardless of God, so unconcerned for the publick good of his native country, so void of all sense of his own, and his neighbour's danger, in their highest and dearest concerns, as will not contribute the utmost that in him lies, to put the most effectual stop to these common national sins, that otherwise will make the kindlings of the divine anger break out and consume all? Did we live in an age that shewed any tolerable measure of respect to the divine laws, it might be hoped, that whatever were made to appear to be sinful, should instantly be abandoned; whatever were understood to be a crime, would be accordingly avoided; and then the plain detecting a vice would go a great way towards its cure; but so far is it otherwise, that most men seem so utterly to have divested themselves of all fear of God, that they can defy their own convictions, charge through all kinds of sins, and own no further difference of good and evil, than their present wordly interests, or viler appetites suggest, or prompt them to; and then, What success can be promised from any attempt for our cure? But yet no wickedness, how general soever, ought to supersede endeavours of a recovery; but the more prevalent and universal vice grows, the more strenuous labours should be employed to controul it. It is, sure, one of the best offices a person can undertake, in days of general backsliding, to draw the notorious reigning sins of the land in their just colours, to paint them in their true and horrid shapes, that men, by beholding the natural ugliness and deformity of them, and by considering what they will end in, may be cautioned to forsake them, and so may flee from the wrath to come. It were a vast work to attack all; I shall single out one of the first magnitude, viz. the swearing of inconsistent oaths; which, I presume, will, by all, be confessed to be an impiety of the greatest size, and to have a most powerful energy in drawing on all those woes and calamities we have been so deeply plunged into. It will be readily acknowledged by all the wrangling factions amongst us, that the land has been involved in no less than the horrid guilt of perjury; as, indeed, where there has been so much swearing and counterswearing, How could it possibly escape? Every new turn of affairs must be accompanied with new modelled oaths, adapted to the circumstances of the prevailing party, right or wrong; and then all must to pot, who cannot swear and sign these, how flatly soever contradictory to those others that preceded them, without the least regard paid to the former obligations, though as solemn as any latter that can be substituted in their room. I need not give instances; the Solemn League, and Declaration, the Tender, the Test, &c. are too notorious pregnant instances to be denied: And the crime, upon an ordinary examination of the terms, thence too apparent: than which there can be no higher contempt put upon the tremendous majesty of God, nor any wickedness which raises a louder cry at the tribunal of heaven for vengeance. And if men can once be habituated to, and harden themselves in such courses, there is an end of all that is holy and heavenly, tender science; and there are but a few that judge themselves any longer bound by them, than a fair occasion offers of emancipating them. Whatever the importance of their most solemn promises have been, they make no difficulty, on the first temptation, of engaging themselves to the other side of the contradiction. A guilt this is, of such an atrocious nature, as must needs utterly lay waste the conscience, and render it insensible and callous. It is not the opinions we take up, that can alter the nature of our duty. The heinousness of perjury is nothing abated by the stubborn confidence of our fancies. The divine sanctions cannot be altered by any power of our imaginations; all our belief can have no efficacy towards the making that venial, which God has made damning. Sin will retain its native venom, its own proper deadly nature, whatever slight perfunctory notions we force ourselves to entertain concerning 17. Would men, therefore, summon up their serious attention, and in God's fear deliberately weigh what is to be done. It is fairly supposeable, they would utterly abolish a practice, whereby, because of men's wild mistaken notions, they do unwarily deceive their own souls, and most palpably provoke and dishonour that all-powerful and just judge, to whom vengeance doth belong. It is proper here to remember, that the swearing pro and con, in the contests, betwixt the houses of York and Lancaster, was so heinous a transgression, as could, it seems, be expiated by no less sacrifice, than of a hundred-thousand lives; for no fewer were slain, in that quarrel. III. Let it be considered, that these oaths are a plain force and violence to most, even of those that swear them. Some men, for worldly advantage, are tempted to take them, though with reluctant consciences. A great many stand condemned by the sentence of their own hearts, in the very moment of the solemnity. Interest is the great deity, that has by far the most votaries; there is nothing so hazardous, which the prospect of gain will not make men adventure on; there are but few such virtuous souls, as are able to sesist a temptation of getting. For a piece of money, one will struggle hard with, and worst his own conscience, and defy present convictions, in the very instant of his grossest commissions. And then it is obvious, that the annexing oaths, to lucrative places, is one of the most dangerous snares possible. Profit is a bait, that will make any hook be swallowed down. Now sure, hereby comes evil, that all the benefit, that can be pretended on the other side, can never preponderate. IV. Add, as an unavoidable consequent of this, the unspeakable damage, that accrues to the publick, by the frequent revolutions and interfering of oaths; for, by this means, the best and most useful men are often kept back from places of trust, and such thrust in, as are the plague and reproach of mankind. He that regards God and himself fears an oath, and will not swear any thing, but what he is fully satisfied does plainly consist with his strict duty, and all the former obligations, that have, at any time, passed upon him. Thence he is barred those stations, wherein he might be a blessing to his country. Whereas, on the other hand, the vicious man, that by his lewd conversation has numbed and stifled his conscience, and blotted out all sense of virtue in his soul, will boggle at nothing; but, at all rates, will climb up to |