to set pen to paper, and prescribe something that he had better have desisted from ordering! These ignorant folks, are ever exclaiming that nature should always be assisted. This is a grand aphorism; and one that all the world pretend to understand; but what such men as we have just mentioned fancy to be assisting nature, is in reality, and most commonly, cutting off her legs and arms. SECT. XX. _Visits of Condolence._ XCIII. All those who labour under any great misfortune, may properly be classed among the sick or infirm. Those things which we commonly call diseases, begin with the body, and from thence proceed to affect the soul; but the disease of grief, or sadness, begins with the soul, and from that is communicated to, and infects the body. To the afflicted with grief, all the visitors should act the physician, nor indeed are there any other physicians, who can afford them so much relief. The cure of the passions of the soul, do not appertain to medicine, but to ethics. Thus the discretion of a man who visits an afflicted person may afford him relief, when all the precepts of old Hippocrates can furnish him with none. XCIV. But what most frequently happens in these cases? why, that the visits of condolence, add a new affliction to him who is already borne down by grief. It is necessary to leave a disconsolate widow, or a man who was exceedingly fond of his deceased wife, for a few days after their loss to themselves, both out of respect to the formalities of the world, and to afford them an opportunity to vent their sorrow. The natural alleviators of great grief, are abundant tears, impetuous sighs, repeated exclamations, and extravagant gestures. None of these can be indulged by any one, while he or she is receiving a visit; for people at such times, are obliged to behave with as much composure, as a person who is acting a serious part in a play; and must confine themselves to expressions of their grief, that are purely theatrical. Their words and their sighs, must issue from them, in form, in order, and according to rule. Their bosoms are oppressed with an ocean of bitterness, and they are only permitted to vent it drop by drop. The doing of which if you consider it, does not afford them the slightest relief; but on the contrary, the violence they put upon themselves to conform to these regular demonstrations of sorrow, is rather an addition to their torment. XCV. The cruel consequences that result to afflicted people, by denying them the natural breathings of their sorrow, and restraining them from venting their grief by all ways and means, is well explained by Picineli in his simile of a River, which swells the more, the more its course is obstructed, _ab obice crescit_; for so it is, that grief increases by being suppressed, and that the less vent is given to it, the more apt it is to suffocate. _Strangulat inclusus dolor_, said Ovid, who was well versed in these matters.