y give;
For not to live at Ease is not to live.
Death stalks behind thee, and each flying Hour
Does some loose Remnant of thy Life devour.
Live while thou livest, for Death shall make us all
A Name of Nothing, but an Old Wife's Tale.
Speak: wilt thou AVORICE or PLEASURE Chuse
To be thy Lord? Take One & One Refuse.--_Perseus_.

We begin to fear indeed that Nathan is little better than one of those
wicked Epicureans himself. _Avorice_ or _Pleasure_. Take one? Must we
indeed? Pleasure? It looks as if Nathan was a very naughty man.

Things have evidently not gone quite smoothly with N. Bowen this last
year, for, in his "Kind Reader" of 1733, he says: "Having last year
finished Twelve of my Annual Papers [he means Almanacks], I proposed to
lay down my pen and leave the Drudgery of Calculation to those who have
more leisure and a Clearer Brain than I can pretend to. Indeed, the
Contempt with which a writer of Almanacks is looked on and the Danger he
is in of being accounted a Conjurer"--a negro-mancer--"should seem
sufficient to deter a man from publishing anything of this kind. But
when I consider that all this is the effect of Ignorance, and,
therefore, not worth my Notice or Resentment, and that the most
judicious and learned part of the World have always highly valued and
esteemed such Undertakings as what are not only great and noble in
themselves; but as they are of absolute necessity in the Business and
Affairs of Life, I am induced to appear again in the World, and hope
this will meet with the same kind acceptance with my former."

With me he meets with the same kind acceptance, for I believe in the
Nobility of the Almanac; and it is certain that every man should believe
in the Nobility of his work whatever it is--then he is sure of _one_
ardent Admirer. It is sad to think that some carping critic had been
riling the sweet soul of Nathan in the year 1732. It is all over now.
Let us hope he is not damned for his Epicureanism, but is reaping his
crop of praise in a better climate than Marblehead. He gives us more
poetry in 1733, and a clear account of why Leap years are necessary,
which I do not repeat here, the popular belief being that they were
invented in order that maidens might if they wished make love to swains,
which belief I would do nothing to shake.

In the next year we have quite a learned discourse about the Julian AEra,
Epochs, Olympiads, etc., from which I can only venture to tak