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Harvard College
Library
VE RI
TAS
FROM THE BOOKS
IN THE HOMESTEAD OF
Sarah Orne Jewett
AT SOUTH BERWICK, MAINE
BEQUEATHED BY
Theodore Jewett Eastman
A.B. 1901
-
M.D. 1905
1931



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251
Indi
acereck
1
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FRONTISPIECE.
See page 5,
M. Brown del.
He was overjoyed to find that it sucked as
naturally
as
if it had really found a mother. The Goat too seemed
to receive pleasure from the efforts of the Child, & submit-
ted without opposition to discharge the duties of a Nurse.
Published as the Act directs Dec. 8th 1787, by John Stockdale, Piccadilly.
0


O
THE
Children's Miſcellany:
!
IN WHICH IS INCLUDED
THE HISTORY OF LITTLE JACK;
BY THOMAS DAY, ESQ.
AUTHOR OF THE HISTORY OF
SANDFORD AND MERTON.
Bid him, befides, his daily pains employ,
To form the tender manners of the boy;
And work him, like a waxen babe, with art,
To perfect fymmetry in every part.
DRYDEN..
A NEW EDITION,
Embellished with Twenty-eight Cuts, by Bewick,
and a Frontispiece..
London:
PRINTED FOR JOHN STOCKDALE, PICCADILLY.
1797.
[Price 3s. 6d. bound. ]


Júr 197.16
HARVARD COLLEGE ODRARY
THE BEQUEST OF
THEODORE JAWEST EASTMAN
ī


ADVERTISEMENT.
A
S the Editor of this collection is con-
ſcious there may appear fome de-
fects in the arrangement of his materials,
he thinks it neceffary to acquaint the Pub-
lic with the true reafon of their appearing
in a lefs finifhed ftate than he could have
wiſhed to preſent them. Some gentlemen
of fortune and literary abilities had once
conceived the ſcheme of contributing to
the entertainment and inftruction of the
rifing generation by a felection of the moſt
intereſting and improving hiftories from
different authors. They intended to tranf-
late from the different languages of Eu-
rope


iv
ADVERTISEMENT.
rope whatever might engage, the minds of
children to the improvement of their
knowledge, and infpire them with an early
love of virtue. To theſe they were to
have added a judicious felection from na-
tural hiftory, and the moft entertaining
deſcriptions that are to be found in the
ample collection of modern voyages; to-
gether with many original pieces of their
own compofition. All theſe, it was pre-
fumed, would contribute a pleafing and
uſeful Miſcellany for the ufe of children,
which they intended to have publiſhed in
periodical numbers. After they had made
fome progreſs in the execution of this
fcheme, they were compelled, by accidents
which it is unneceffary to relate, to aban-
don their defign. But, though the mo-
defty of the authors would rather have led
them to fupprefs what they could not en-
gage to finish, the Editor, to whom their
papers


ADVERTISEMENT.
papers were entrufted, has judged them
too valuable to be entirely fuppreffed. He
has, therefore, collected them into a vo-
lume, with the hopes that this Miſcellany
may not appear undeferving of the public
favour, and may be deemed no contempti-
ble addition to that branch of literature
which propoſes to itſelf the important ob-
ject of pleafing and inftructing children.
THE


つ
​


THE HISTORY
OF
LITTLE JACK.
TH
HERE was once a poor lame old man
that lived in the midft of a wide unculti -
vated moor, in the north of England. He had
formerly been a foldier, and had almoft loft the
ufe of one leg by a wound he had received in
battle, when he was fighting againſt the enemies
of his country. This poor man, when he found
himſelf thus difabled, built a little hut of clay,
which he covered with turf dug from the com-
mon. He had a little bit of ground which he
made a fhift to cultivate with his own hands,
and which ſupplied him with potatoes and ve-
getables; befides this, he fometimes gained a
few halfpence by opening a gate for travellers,
which ftood near his houfe. He did not indeed
get much, becauſe few people paffed that way.
What he earned was, however, enough to pur-
chafe cloaths, and the few neceffaries he want-
ed. But though poor, he was ftrictly honeft, and
never failed night and morning to addrefs his
prayers to God; by which means he was re-
ſpected by all who knew him, much more than
many
B


THE HISTORY OF
many who were fuperior to him in rank and
fortune. This old man had one domeſtic. In
his walks over the common, he one day found a
little kid that had loft its mother, and was almoſt
famiſhed with hunger: he took it home to his
A
cottage, fed it with the produce of his garden,
and nurfed it till it grew ftrong and vigorous.
Little Nan, (for that was the name he gave it)
returned his cares with gratitude, and became
as much attached to him as a dog. All day ſhe
browzed upon the herbage that grew around his
hut, and at night repofed upon the fame bed of
ſtraw with her mafter. Frequently did ſhe divert
him with her innocent tricks and gambols. She
would neftle her little head in his bofom, and
eat out of his hand part of his ſcanty allowance
of bread, which he never failed to divide with
his favourite. The old man often beheld her
with filent joy, and, in the innocent effufions of
his heart, would lift his hands to heaven, and
thank the Deity, that, even in the midſt of po-
verty and diftrefs, had raiſed him up one faithful
friend.
•
One night, in the beginning of winter, the old
man thought he heard the feeble cries and la-
mentations of a child. As he was naturally cha-
ritable, he aroſe and ftruck a light, and, going
out of his cottage, examined on every fide. It
was


LITTLE JACK.
was not long before he difcerned an infant,
which had probably been dropped by fome ftrol-
ling beggar or gypfy. The old man ſtood amaz-
ed at the fight, and knew not what to do. Shall
I, faid he, who find it fo difficult to live at pre-
fent, incumber myſelf with the care of an help-
lefs infant, that will not for many years be ca-
pable of contributing to its own fubfiftence?
And yet, added he, foftening with pity, can I
deny affiftance to an human being ſtill more mi-
ferable than myſelf?-Will not that Providence
which feeds the birds of the wood and the beaſts
of the field, and which has promiſed to bleſs all
thoſe that are kind and charitable, affift my
feeble endeavours?—At leaſt, let me give it food
and lodging for this night; for without I receive
it into my cottage, the poor abandoned wretch
muft perish with cold before the morning. Say-
ing this, he took it up in his arms, and perceived
it was a fine healthy boy, though covered with
rags; the little foundling too feemed to be fen-
fible of his kindneſs, and ſmiling in his face,
ftretched out his little arms, as if to embrace his
benefactor.
1
When he had brought it into his hut, he be-
gan to be extremely embarraſſed how to procure
it food: but looking at Nan, he recollected that
The had juft loft her kid, and faw her udder dif
B 2
tended
(


4
THE HISTORY OF
tended with milk: he, therefore, called her to
him, and, preſenting the child to the teat, was
overjoyed to find, that it fucked as naturally as
if it had really found a mother. The goat too
feemed to receive pleaſure from the efforts of
m
WYMIA
the child, and fubmitted without oppofition to
difcharge the duties of a nurfe. Contented with
this


LITTLE JACK.
5
this experiment, the old man wrapped the child
up as warmly as he could, and ftretched himſelf
out to reft, with the conſciouſneſs of having done
an humane action. Early the next morning he
was awakened by the cries of the child for food,
which, with the affiftance of his faithful Nan,
he fuckled as he had done the night before.
And now the old man began to feel an intc-
reft in the child, which made him defer fome
time longer the taking mcafures to be delivered.
from its care. Who knows, faid he, but Provi-
dence, which has preferved this child in fo won-
derful a manner, may have deſtined it to fome-
thing equally wonderful in his future life, and
may bleſs me as the humble agent of his de-
crees? At leaſt, as he grows bigger, he will be
a pleaſure and comfort to me in this lonely
cabin, and will affift in cutting turf for fuel, and
cultivating the garden. From this time he be-
came more and more attached to the little found-
ling; who, in a fhort time, learned to confider
the old man as a parent, and delighted him with
its innocent careffes. Gentle Nanny too, the
goat, feemed to adopt him with equal tenderneſs
as her offspring: fhe would ftretch herſelf out
upon the ground, while he crawled upon his
hands and knees towards her; and when he had
B 3
fatisfied


6
THE HISTORY OF
fatisfied his hunger by fucking, he would neftle
between her legs and go to fleep in her bofom.
It was wonderful to fee how this child, thus
left to nature, increaſed in ftrength and vigour.
Unfettered by bandages or reftraints, his limbs
acquired their due proportions and form; his
countenance was full and florid, and gave indi-
cations of perfect health; and, at an age when
other children are fcarcely able to fupport them-
felves with the affiftance of a nurſe, this little
foundling could run alone. It was true that he
fometimes failed in his attempts, and fell to the
ground; but the ground was foft, and little Jack,
for fo the old man called him, was not tender
or delicate; he never minded thumps or bruiſes,
but boldly ſcrambled up again and purſued his
way. In a fhort time, little Tool
pletely ma
Java
r of his legs; and as the fummer
came on, he attended his mamma, the goat,
----
Ins com
135 CURES
upon


LITTLE JACK.
7
upon the common, and uſed to play with her
for hours together; fometimes rolling under her
belly, now climbing upon her back, and friſking
about as if he had really been a kid. As to his
cloathing, Jack was not much incumbered with
it he had neither fhoes, nor ftockings, nor
fhirt; but the weather was warm, and Jack felt
himſelf ſo much lighter for every kind of exer-
cife. In a thort time after this, Jack began to
imitate the founds of his papa, the man, and his
mamma, the goat; nor was it long before he
learned to ſpeak articulately. The old man,
delighted with this firft dawn of reaſon, uſed to
place him upon his knee, and converſe with him
for hours together, while his pottage was flowly
boiling amid the embers of a turf fire. As he
grew bigger, Jack became of confiderable uſe to
his father; he could truft him to look after the
gate, and open it during his abfence; and, as to
the cookery of the family, it was not long before
Jack was a complete proficient, and could make
broth almoſt as well as his daddy himſelf. Dur-
ing the winter nights, the old man uſed to enter-
tain him with ftories of what he had feen during
his youth; the battles and fieges he had been
witnefs to, and the hardships he had undergone;
all this he related with fo much vivacity, that
Jack was never tired of liftening. But what de-.
R 4
lighted
B


8
THE HISTORY OF
lighted him beyond meaſure was to fee daddy
ſhoulder his crutch, inſtead of a mufquet, and
give the word of command. To the right-to
the left-prefent-fire-march-halt-all this
was familiar to Jack's ear as foon as he could
ſpeak, and before he was fix years old, he poiz-
ed and preſented a broom-ſtick, which his daddy
gave him for that purpofe, with as good a grace
as any foldier of his age in Europe.
CAROLINA
66
MİNE
Comm
WILD
The old man too inſtructed him in ſuch plain
and fimple morals and religion, as he was able
to explain. "Never tell an untruth, Jack," ſaid
he, even though you were to be flayed alive;
a foldier never lies." Jack held up his head,
marched acroſs the floor, and promiſed his daddy
that he would always tell the truth like a fol-
dier. But the old man, as he was fomething of
a fcholar


LITTLE JACK.
9
a fcholar, had a great ambition that his darling
fhould learn to read, and write; and this was a
work of fome difficulty; for he had neither
printed book, nor pens, nor paper in his cabin.
Induftry, however, enables us to overcome dif-
ficulties; in the fummer time, as the old man
fat before his cottage, he would draw letters in
the fand, and teach Jack to name them fingly,
until he was acquainted with the whole alphabet,
he then proceeded to fyllables, and after that to
words; all which his little pupil learned to pro-
nounce with great facility: and, as he had a ſtrong
propenfity to imitate what he faw, he not only ac-
quired the power of reading words, but of tracing
all the letters which compofed them, on the fand.
About this time, the poor goat, which had
nurfed Jack fo faithfully, grew ill and died. He
tended her with the greateſt affection and affi-
duity during her illneſs, brought her the freſheſt
herbs for food, and would frequently ſupport her
head for hours together upon his little bofom.
But it was all in vain; he loft his poor mammy,
as he uſed to call her, and was for fome time in-
confolable; for Jack, though his knowledge was
bounded, had an uncommon degree of gratitude
and affection in his temper. He was not able to
talk as finely about love, tendernefs, and fenfibi-
lity, as many other little boys, that have enjoyed
B 5
greater


10
THE HISTORY OF
greater advantages of education, but he felt the
reality of them in his heart, and thought it fo
natural to love every thing that loves us, that be
never even ſuſpected it was poffible to do other-
wife. The poor goat was buried in the old man's
garden, and thither little Jack would often come,
and call upon his poor mammy Nan, and afk her
why ſhe had left him? One day, as he was thus
employed, a lady happened to come by in a car-
riage, and overheard him before he was aware.
Jack ran in an inſtant to open the gate; but the
lady ſtopped, and aſked him whom he was be-
moaning fo pitifully, and calling upon. Jack
anfwered, that it was his poor mammy, that was
buried in the garden. The lady thought it very
odd to hear of fuch a burial place, and therefore
proceeded to queftion him," How did your
mamma


LITTLE JACK.
11
"She uſed
mamma get her living?" faid ſhe.
to graze here upon the common all day long,"
faid Jack. The lady was ftill more aſtoniſhed;
but the old man came out of his hut, and ex-
plained the whole affair to her, which furprized
her very much; for though this lady had ſeen a
great deal of the world, and had read a variety
of books, it had never once entered into her
head that a child might grow ftrong and vigo-
rous by fucking a goat, inftead of eating pap.
She therefore looked at Jack with amazement,
admired his brown but animated face, and praif-
his ſhape and activity. "Will you go with me,
little boy?" ſaid ſhe," and I will take care of
you, if you behave well." "No," faid Jack, "I
muſt ſtay with daddy; he has taken care of
me for
many years, and now I muſt take care of
him; otherwife I fhould like very well to go
with fuch a ſweet, good-natured lady." The lady
was not diſpleaſed with Jack's anfwer, and put-
ting her hand in her pocket, gave him half a
crown, to buy him ſhoes and ſtockings, and pur--
fued her journey.
Jack was not unacquainted with the uſe of
money, as he had been often fent to the next
village to purchaſe bread and neceffaries; but
he was totally unacquainted with the uſe of ſhoes:
and ftockings, which he had never worn in his
B 6
life,


12
THE HISTORY OF
66
<<
life, or felt the want of. The next day, how-
ever, the old man bade him run to town, and lay
his money out as the lady had defired; for he
had too much honour to think of diſobeying her
commands, or fuffering it to be expended for
any other purpoſe. It was not long before Jack
returned; but the old man was much furprized
to fee him come back as bare as he went out.
Heigh, Jack!" faid he, "where are the fhoes
and ftockings which you were to purchaſe?"
Daddy, anfwered Jack, "I went to the ſhop,
and juſt tried a pair for ſport, but I found them
fo cumberſome, that I could not walk, and I
would not wear fuch things, even if the lady
would give me another half crown for doing it;
/ fo I laid the money out in a warm jacket for
you, becauſe the winter is coming on, and you
feem to be more afraid of the cold than former-
ly." Many fuch inftances of conduct did Jack
difplay; from which it was eafy to perceive,
that he had an excellent foul and generous tem-
per. One failing, indeed, Jack was liable to;
though a very good natured boy, he was a little
too jealous of his honour. His daddy had taught
him the uſe of his hands and legs, and Jack had
fuch difpofitions for the art of boxing, that he
could beat every boy in the neighbourhood, of
his
age and fize. Even if they were a head taller,
1
it


LITTLE JACK,
13
it made no difference to Jack, provided they ſaid
any thing to wound his honour; for otherwiſe
he was the moft mild, pacific creature in the
world. One day that he had been fent to the
village, he returned with his eyes black, and
his face fwelled to a frightful fize it was even
with difficulty that he was able to walk at all, ſo
fore was he with the pomelling he had received.
"What have you been doing now, Jack ?” ſaid
the old man." Only fighting with Dick the
butcher." “You rogue, ſaid the old man, he
is twice as big as you are, and the beſt fighter in
all the country'
"What does that fignify, faid
Jack, he called you an old beggarman, and then
I ftruck him; and I will ftrike him again when-
ever he calls you fo, even if he ſhould beat me
to pieces; for you know daddy, that you are
not a beggarman, but a foldier.”
29
In this manner lived little Jack, until he was
twelve years old; at this time his poor old daddy
fell fick and became incapable of moving about.
Jack did every thing he could think of for the
poor man; he made him broths, he fed him
with his own hands, he watched whole nights
by his bed-fide fupporting his head and helping
him when he wanted to move. But it was all
in vain; his poor daddy grew daily worſe, and
perceived it to be impoffible that he fhould re-
cover.


14
THE HISTORY OF '
cover. He one day therefore called little Jack
to his bed-fide, and preffing his hand affection-
ately, told him that he was juſt going to die.
Little Jack burst into a flood of tears at this in-
formation, but his daddy defired him to com-
pofe himſelf, and attend to the laft advice he
fhould be able to give him. "I have lived,
faid the old man, a great many years, in po-
verty, but I do not know that I have been worfe
off than if I had been rich. I have avoided,
perhaps, many faults, and many uneafineffes,
which I ſhould have incurred had I been in ano-
ther fituation; and though I have often wanted
a meal and always fared hard, I have enjoyed
as much health and life as ufually falls to the
lot of my betters. I am now going to die; I
feel it in every part; the breath will foon be
out


LITTLE JACK.
15
1
out of my body; then I fhall be put in the
ground, and the worms will eat your poor old
daddy." At this Jack renewed his tears and
fobbings, for he was unable to reftrain them.
But the old man faid; "Have patience, my
child; though I fhould leave this world, as I
have always been ſtrictly honeft and endea-
voured to do my duty, I do not doubt but God
will pity me, and convey me to a better place;
where I fhall be happier than I have ever been
here. This is what I have always taught you, and
this belief gives me the greateſt comfort in my laſt
moments. The only regret I feel, is for you, my
deareſt child, whom I leave unprovided for. But
you are ftrong and vigorous, and almoft able to
get your living. As foon as I am dead, you muſt
go to the next village and inform the people, that
they may come and bury me. You must then
endeavour to get into fervice, and work for your
living; and, if you are ſtrictly honeſt and fober, I
do not doubt that you will find a livelihood, and
that God, who is the common father of all, will
protect and bless you. Adieu, my child, I grow
fainter and fainter; never forget your poor old
daddy, nor the example he has fet you; but in
every fituation of life difcharge your duty, and
live like a foldier, and a Chriftian." When the
old man had with difficulty uttered theſe laſt in-
ftructions,


16
THE HISTORY OF
ftructions, his voice entirely failed him, his limbs
grew cold and ftiff, and in a few minutes he ex-
pired without a groan. Little Jack, who hung
crying over his daddy, called upon him in vain,
in vain endeavoured to revive him. At length
he pulled off his cloaths, went into his daddy's
bed, and endeavoured for many hours to animate
him with the warmth of his own body; but find-
ing all his endeavours fruitlefs, he concluded that
he was indeed dead; and therefore, weeping bit-
terly, he dreft himfelf, and went to the village as
he had been ordered. The poor little boy was
thus left entirely deftitute and knew not what to
do; but one of the farmers, who had been ac-
quainted with him before, offered to take him
into his houfe, and give him his victuals, for a few
months, till he could find a fervice. Jack thank-
fully accepted the offer, and ferved him faithfully
for feveral months; during which time he learned
'to milk, to drive the plough, and never refuſed
any kind of work he was able to perform. But,
by ill luck, this good-natured farmer contracted
a fever, by over-heating himfelf in the harveſt,
and died in the beginning of winter. His wife
was therefore obliged to diſcharge her fervants,
and Jack was again turned looſe upon the world,
with only his cloaths, and a fhilling in his pocket,
which his kind miſtreſs had made him a prefent
of.


LITTLE JACK.
17
of. He was very forry for the lofs of his mafter;
but he was now grown bigger and ſtronger, and
thought he ſhould eaſily find employment. He
therefore fet out upon his travels, walking all
day, and inquiring at every farm-houfe for work.
But in this attempt he was unfortunate, for no-
body choſe to employ a ftranger: and though he
lived with the greateſt economy, he foon found
himſelf in a worſe ſituation than ever, without a
farthing in his pocket, or a morfel of bread to eat.
Jack, however, was not of a temper to be eaſily
caft down; he walked refolutely on all day, but
towards evening was overtaken by a violent ftorm
of rain, which wetted him to the ſkin before he
could find a bufh for fhelter. Now, poor Jack
began to think of his old daddy, and the comforts
he had formerly enjoyed upon the common,
where he had always a roof to ſhelter him, and a
flice of bread for fupper. But tears and lamenta-
tions were vain; and therefore, as foon as the
ftorm was over, he purfued his journey, in hopes
of finding ſome barn or out-houſe to creep into
for the rest of the night. While he was thus
wandering about, he ſaw at ſome diſtance a great
light, which feemed to come from ſome prodigi-
ous fire. Jack did not know what this could be ;
but, in his prefent fituation, he thought a fire no
difagreeable object, and therefore determined to
approach
#


18
THE HISTORY OF
approach it. When he came nearer, he faw a
large building which feemed to fpout fire and-
fmoke at feveral openings, and heard an inceffant
noiſe of blows, and the rattling of chains. Jack
was at firſt a little frightened, but fummoning all
his courage, he crept cautiouſly on to the build-
ing, and looking through a chink, diſcovered fe-
WHERE CASARELUNTAR
H
veral men and boys employed in blowing fires and
hammering burning maſſes of iron. This was a
very comfortable fight to him in his preſent for-
lorn condition; fo finding a door half open, he
ventured in, and placed himſelf as near as he
dared to one of the flaming furnaces. It was not
long before he was diſcovered by one of the work-
men, who aſked him, roughly, what bafinefs he
had there? Jack anſwered, with great humility,
that he was a poor boy, looking out for work;
that


LITTLE JACK.
19.
that he had had no food all day, and was wet to
the ſkin with the rain, which was evident enough.
from the appearance of his cloaths. By great good
luck, the man he ſpoke to was good-natured, and
therefore not only permitted him to ſtay by the
fire, but gave him fome broken victuals for his
fupper. After this, he laid himſelf down in a
corner, and flept without difturbance till morning.
He was fcarcely awake the next day, when the
mafter of the forge came in to overlook his men,
who finding Jack, and hearing his ſtory, began to
reproach him as a lazy vagabond, and aſked him
why he did not work for his living. Jack affured
him there was nothing he fo earneſtly defir-
ed, and that if he would pleaſe to employ him,
there was nothing he would not do to earn a
ubmitence. VY Cil, fly boy, faid the mafter, if this
is true, you ſhall foon be tried; nobody need be
idle here; fo calling his foreman, he ordered him
to fet that lad to work, and pay him in proportion
to his deferts. Jack now thought himſelf com-
pletely happy, and worked with fo much affi-
duity, that he foon gained a comfortable liveli
hood, and acquired the efteem of his mafter. But
unfortunately, he was a little too unreſerved in
his converfation, and communicated the ftory of
his former life and education. This was great
matter of diverſion to all the other boys of the
+
ՐՈ
-- b
forge;
11זזז
"


20
THE HISTORY OF
forge; who, whenever they were inclined to be
merry, would call him little Jack the beggar-boy,
and imitate the baaing of a goat. This was too
much for his irafcible temper, and he never failed
to refent it; by which means he was engaged in
continual quarrels and combats, to the great dif-
turbance of the houfe; fo that his mafter, though
in other refpects perfectly fatisfied with his be-
haviour, began to fear that he fhould at laſt be
obliged to diſcharge him.
It happened one day, that a large company of
gentlemen and ladies were introduced to fee the
works. The mafter attended them, and explain-
ed, with great politenefs, every part of his manu-
facture. They viewed with aftoniſhment the dif-
ferent methods by which that uſeful and neceffary
ore of iron is rendered fit for human ufe. They ex-
amined


LITTLE JACK.
21
amined the furnaces where it is melted down, to
difengage it from the drofs, with which it is mixed
in the bowels of the earth, and whence it runs down
in liquid torrents like fire. They beheld with equal
pleaſure the prodigious hammers, which, moved
by the force of water, mould it into maffy bars,
for the fervice of man. While they were buſy in
examining thefe different proceffes, they were
alarmed by a fudden noife of difcord, which
broke out on the other fide of the building; and
the mafter enquiring into the caufe, was told,
that it was only little Jack, who was fighting
with Tom the collier. At this, the mafter cried
out, in a paffion, there is no peace to be expected
in the furnace, while that little rafcal is employ-
ed; fend him to me, and I will inftantly dif-
charge him. At this moment Jack appeared,
all


22
THE HISTORY OF
all covered with blood and dirt, and ſtood be-
fore his angry judge in a modeft, but reſolute
poſture. Is this the reward," ſaid his maſter,
"you little audacious vagabond, of all my kind-
nefs? Can you never refrain a fingle inſtant from
broils and fighting? But I am determined to bear
it no longer; and therefore you fhall never, from
this hour, do a fingle ftroke of work for me."
"Sir," replied Jack, with great humility, but yet
with firmnefs, "I am extremely forry to have
difobliged you, nor have I ever done it willingly
fince I have been here; and if the other boys
would only mind their buſineſs as well as I do,
and not moleſt me, you would not have been of-
fended now; for I defy them all to fay, that,
fince I have been in the houſe, I have ever given
any one the leaft provocation, or ever refuſed, to
the utmoſt of my ftrength, to do whatever I have
been ordered." "That's true, in good faith,",
ſaid the foreman; I muft do little Jack the juſtice
to ſay, that there is not a more honeft, fober, and
induſtrious lad about the place. Set him to what
you will, he never fculks, never grumbles, never
flights his work; and if it were not for a little
paffion and fighting, I don't believe there would
be his fellow in England." "Well," faid the
mafter, a little mollified, "but what is the cauſe
of all this fudden diſturbance ?" "Sir," anfwer-
ed


LITTLE JACK.
23
ed Jack, "it is Tom that has been abuſing me,
and telling me that my father was a beggarman
and my mother a nanny-goat; and when I de-
fired him to be quiet, he went baaing all about
the houſe; and this I could not bear; for as to
my poor father, he was an honeſt foldier, and if
I did fuck a goat, fhe was the beſt creature in
the world, and I won't hear her abufed while I
have any ſtrength in my body." At this harangue,
the whole audience were ſcarcely able to refrain
from laughing, and the maſter, with more com-
pofure, told Jack to mind his buſineſs, and threat-
ened the other boys with puniſhment if they
diſturbed him.
But a lady who was in company ſeemed par-
ticularly intereſted about little Jack, and when
ſhe had heard his ftory, faid, this muſt certainly
be the little boy who opened a gate ſeveral years
paft for me upon Norcot Moor. I remember
being ftruck with his appearance, and hearing
him lament the lofs of the goat that nurfed him.
I was very much affected with his hiftory, and
fince he deferves fo good a character, if you will
part with him, I will inſtantly take him into my
fervice. The mafter replied, that he fhould part
with him with great fatisfaction to fuch an excel-
lent miſtreſs; that, indeed, the boy deferved all
the commendations which had been given; but
fince


24
THE HISTORY OF
fince the other lads had fuch an habit of pla-
guing, and Jack was of fo impatient a temper,
he deſpaired of ever compofing their animofi-
ties. Jack was then called, and informed of the
lady's offer, which he inftantly accepted with the
greateft readineſs, and received immediate di-
rections to her houſe.
Jack was now in a new fphere of life. His
face was waſhed, his hair combed, he was cloth-
ed afreſh, and appeared a very fmart active lad.
His bufinefs was to help in the ſtable, to water
the horfes, to clean fhoes, to perform errands,
and to do all the jobs of the family; and in the
diſcharge of thefe fervices, he foon gave univer-
fal fatisfaction. He was indefatigable in doing
what he was ordered, never grumbled, or ap-
peared out of temper, and feemed fo quiet and
inoffenfive in his manners, that every body won-
dered how he had acquired the character of be-
ing quarrelfome. In a fhort time, he became
both the favourite and the drudge of the whole
family; for, fpeak but kindly to him, and call
him a little foldier, and Jack was at every one's
difpofal. This was Jack's particular foible and
vanity; at his leiſure hours, he would divert him-
felf by the hour together in poizing a dung-fork,
charging with a broomſtick, and ſtanding centry
at the ftable-door. Another propenfity of Jack's,
yr
الی
which


LITTLE JACK
25
which now diſcovered itſelf, was an immoderate
love of horfès. The inftant he was introduced.
into the ftable, he attached himſelf fo ftrongly
to theſe animals, that you would have taken him
for one of the fame fpecies, or at leaſt a near re-
lation. Jack was never tired with rubbing down
and currying them; the coachman had fcarcely
any buſineſs but to fit upon his box; all the ope-
rations of the ſtable were intrufted to little Jack,
nor was it ever known that he neglected a fingle
particular. But what gave him more pleaſure
than all the reft, was fometimes to accompany
his miſtreſs upon a little horſe, which he ma-
naged with infinite dexterity..
Jack too diſcovered a great difpofition for all
the uſeful and mechanic arts. He had ferved an
apprenticeſhip already to the manufactory of
iron, and of this he was almoſt as vain as being
a foldier. As he began to extend his knowledge:
of the world, he faw that nothing could be done:
without iron. How would you plough the
ground, faid Jack; how would you dig your gar-
den; how would you even light a fire, dreſs a.
dinner, ſhoe a horſe, or do the leaſt thing in the
world, if we workmen at the forge did not take
the trouble of preparing it for you? Thus Jack
would fometimes expatiate upon the dignity and
importance of his own profeffion to the great
admiration of all the other fervants. Thefe ideas:
naturally
C


26
THE HISTORY OF
naturally gave Jack a great eſteem for the pro-
feffion of a blackſmith, and in his occafional vi-
fits to the forge with the horſes, he learnt to make
and fix a ſhoe as neatly as any artiſt in the coun-
try. Nor were Jack's talents confined to the ma-
nufactory of iron; his love of horſes was fo
wan
HRIME
great, and his intereft in every thing that related
to them, that it was not long before he acquired a
very competent knowledge in the art of fadlery.
Jack would alfo fometimes obſerve the car-
penters when they were at work, and fometimes
by ſtealth attempt the management of their
tools, in which he fucceeded as well as in every
thing elſe, ſo that he was looked upon by every
body as a very active, ingenious boy.
There was in the family where he now lived
a young gentleman, the nephew of his miſtreſs,
who had loft his parents, and was therefore
brought


LITTLE JACK.
27
brought up by his aunt. As Maſter Willets was
fomething younger than Jack, and a very good-
natured boy, he foon began to take notice of
him, and be much diverted with his company.
Jack, indeed, was not undeſerving this attention;
for although he could not boaft any great ad-
vantages of education, his conduct was entirely
free from all the vices to which fome of the
lower clafs of people are fubject. Jack was ne-
ver heard to fwear, or exprefs himſelf with any
indecency. He was civil and reſpectful in his
manners to all his fuperiors, and uniformly good-
natured to his equals. In refpect to the animals
entruſted to his care, he not only refrained from
ufing them ill, but was never tired with doing
them good offices. Added to this, he was fober,
temperate, hardy, active, and ingenious, and de-
ſpiſed a lie as much as any of his betters. Maf-
ter Willets now began to be much pleaſed with
playing at cricket and trap-ball with Jack, who
excelled at both theſe games. Maſter Willets
had a little horſe, which Jack looked after, and
not contented with looking after him in the beſt
manner, he uſed to ride him at his leiſure hours
with fo much care and addrefs, that in a fhort
time he made him the moft gentle and docile
little animal in the country. Jack had acquired
this knowledge partly from his own experience,
and partly from paying particular attention to an
C 2
itinerant


28
THE HISTORY OF
itinerant riding-mafter, that had lately exhibited
various feats in that neighbourhood. Jack attend-
ed him ſo cloſely, and made fo good an uſe of
his time, that he learned to imitate almoſt every
thing he faw, and uſed to divert the fervants and
his young mafter with acting the taylor's riding
to Brentford.
The young gentleman had a mafter who uſed
to come three times a week to teach him ac-
counts, and writing, and geography. Jack ufed
to be fometimes in the room while the leſſons
were given, and liftened, according to cuſtom,
with fo much attention to all that paffed, that
he received very confiderable advantage for his
own improvement. He had now a little money,
and he laid fome of it out to purchaſe pens, and
paper, and a flate, with which at night he uſed
to imitate every thing he had heard and feen in
the


LITTLE JACK.
29.
the day; and his little mafter, who began to love
him very fincerely, when he ſaw him fo defirous
of improvement, contrived, under one pretence
or another, to have him generally in the room
while he was receiving inftruction himſelf.
In this manner Jack went on for fome years,
leading a life very agreeable to himſelf, and dif-
charging his duty very much to the fatisfaction of
his miſtreſs. An unlucky accident at length hap-
pened to interrupt his tranquillity. A young
gentleman came down to vifit Mafter Willets,
who, having been educated in France, and among
genteel people in London, had a very great tafte
for finery, and a fupreme contempt for all the
vulgar. His drefs too was a little particular, as
well as his manners; for he ſpent half his time
in adjuſting his head, wore a large black bag tied
to his hair behind, and would fometimes ſtrut
about for half an hour together with his hat un-
DIME
der


30
THE HISTORY OF
der his arm, and a little fword by his fide. This
young man had a fupreme contempt for all the
vulgar, which he did not attempt to conceal;
and when he had heard the ftory of Jack's birth
and education, he could fcarcely bear to be in
the fame room with him. Jack foon perceived
the averfion which the ftranger entertained for
him, and at firſt endeavoured to remove it, by
every civility in his power; but when he found
that he gained nothing by all his humility, his
temper, naturally haughty, took fire, and, as far
as he dared, he plainly fhewed all the refent-
ment he felt.
It happened one day, after Jack had received
fome very mortifying uſage from this young gen-
tleman, that as he was walking along the road,
he met with a ſhowman, who was returning from
a neighbouring fair with fome wild beafts in a
cart. Among the reft was a middle-fized mon-
key, who was not under cover like the reft, and
played fo many antic tricks, and made fo many
grimaces, as engaged all Jack's attention, and
delighted him very much, for he always had a
propenfity for every ſpecies of drollery. After
a variety of queſtions and converſation, the ſhow-
man, who probably wanted to be rid of his mon-
key, propoſed to Jack to purchaſe him for half
a crown. Jack could not refift the temptation of
being mafter of fuch a droll diverting animal, and
therefore


LITTLE JACK.
31
therefore agreed to the bargain. But when he
was left alone with his purchaſe, whom he led
along by a chain, he foon began to repent his
hafte, and knew not how to difpofe of him. As
there was, however, no remedy, Jack brought
him carefully home, and confined him ſafe in an
out-houſe, which was not applied to any uſe.-
In this fituation he kept him feveral days, with-
out accident, and frequently vifited him at his
leiſure hours, with apples, nuts, and ſuch other
prefents as he could procure, Among the other
tricks which the monkey had been taught to
perform, he would riſe upon his hind legs at the
word of command, and bow with the greateſt
politeness to the company. Jack, who had
found out theſe accompliſhments in his friend,
could not refift the impulfe of making them
fubfervient to his refentment. He, therefore,
one day, procured fome flour, with which he
powdered his monkey's head, fixed a large paper
bag to his neck, put an old hat under his arm,
and tied a large iron ſkewer to his fide, inſtead
of a fword; and thus accoutred, led him about
with infinite fatisfaction, calling him Monfieur,
and jabbering fuch broken French as he had
picked up from the converſation of the vifitor.
It happened very unluckily at this very inftant,
that the young gentleman himself paffed by,
C 4
and


32
THE HISTORY OF
and inftantly faw at one glance the intended copy
himſelf, and all the malice of little Jack; who
was leading him along, and calling to him to hold
up his head, and look like a perſon of faſhion.
Rage inftantly took poffeffion of.his mind, and
drawing his fword, which he happened to have
on, he ran the poor monkey through with a fud-
den thruft, and laid him dead upon the ground.
What more he might have done is uncertain,
for Jack, who was not of a temper to fee calmly
fuch an outrage committed upon an animal
whom he confidered as his friend, flew upon him
like a fury, and wrefting the fword out of his
hand, broke it into twenty pieces. The young
gentleman himfelf received a fall in the ſcuffle,
which, though it did him no material damage,
daubed all his cloaths, and totally ſpoiled the
whole


LITTLE JACK.
33
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whole arrangement of his dreſs. At this in-
ftant, the lady herſelf, who had heard the noiſe,
came down, and the violence of poor Jack was
too apparent to be excufed. Jack, indeed, was
fubmiffive to his miftrefs, whom he was very
forry to have offended; but, when he was order-
ed to make conceffions to the young gentleman,
as the only conditions upon which he could be
kept in the family, he abfolutely refuſed. He
owned, indeed, that he was much to blame for
reſenting the provocations he had received, and
endeavouring to make his miſtreſs's company
ridiculous; but as to what he had done in de-
fence of his friend the monkey, there were no
poffible arguments which could convince him
he was in the leaſt to blame; nor would he
have made fubmiffions to the King himſelf.—
This unfortunate obftinacy of Jack's was the
C 5
occafion


34
THE HISTORY OF
occafion of his being diſcharged, very much to
the regret of the lady herſelf, and ſtill more to
that of Mafter Willets. Jack therefore packed
up his cloaths in a little bundle, fhook all his
fellow-fervants by the hand, took an affectionate
leave of his kind maſter, and once more fallied
out upon his travels.
LATERA.
He had not walked far before he came to a
town, where a party of foldiers were beating
up for volunteers. Jack mingled with the
crowd that furrounded the recruiting ferjeant,
and liftened with great pleaſure to the found of
the fifes and drums; nor could he help mecha-
nically holding up his head, and ſtepping for-
ward with an air that fhewed the trade was not
entirely new to him. The ferjeant foon took
notice of theſe geftures, and feeing him a ftrong
likely lad, came up to him, clapped him upon
the
霉
​


LITTLE JACK.
35
the back, and aſked him if he would enliſt.-
"You are a brave boy," ſaid he, "I can fee it
·
in your looks-come along with us, and I don't
doubt, in a few weeks, you'll be as complete a
foldier as thoſe who have been in the army for
years."
Jack made no anſwer to this, but by inſtantly
poizing his ftick, cocking his hat fiercely,
and going through the whole manual exer-
cife." Prodigious, indeed!" cried the fer-
jeant, "I fee you have been in the army al-
ready, and can eat fire as well as any of us. But
come with us, my brave lad, you fhall live
well, have little to do, but now and then fight
for your King and country, as every gentleman
ought; and in a fhort time, I don't doubt, but
I fhall fee you a Captain, or fome great man,
C 6
rolling


36
THE HISTORY OF
rolling in wealth, which you have got out of
the fpoils of your enemies."" No, faid Jack,
captain, that will never do---no tricks upon
travellers-I know better what I have to expect
if I enliſt-I muſt lie hard, live hard, expoſe
my life and limbs, every hour of the day, and
be foundly cudgelled every now and then into the
bargain."" O'ons, cried the ferjeant, where
did the young dog pick up all this?. He is enough
to make a whole company defert."-" No, faid
Jack, they fhall never defert through me; for
though I know this, as I am at prefent out of
employment, and have a great refpect for the
character of a gentleman foldier, I will enlift
directly in your regiment." "A brave fellow,
indeed, faid the ferjeant; here, my boy, here is
your money and your cockade," both which he
directly prefented, for fear his recruit fhould
change his mind; and thus in a moment little
Jack became a foldier.
He had ſcarcely time to feel himſelf eaſy in
his new accoutrements, before he was embark-
ed for India in the character of a marine. This
kind of life was entirely new to Jack; however,
his uſual activity and ſpirit of obſervation did
not defert him here, and he had not been em-
barked many weeks, before he was perfectly
acquainted with all the duty of a failor, and in
that refpect equal to moft on board. It happened
that


LITTLE JACK.
37
ה
that the fhip, in which he failed, touched at
the Cormo Iflands, in order to take in wood
and water; thefe are fome little iſlands near the
coaft of Africa, inhabited by blacks. Jack often
went on fhore with the officers, attending them
on their fhooting parties to carry their powder
and ſhot, and the game they killed. All this
country confifts of very lofty hills, covered with
trees and fhrubs of various kinds, which never
lofe their leaves, from the perpetual warmth of
the climate. Through theſe it is frequently dif
ficult to force a way, and the hills themſelves
abound in precipices. It happened that one of
the officers whom Jack was attending upon a
ſhooting party, took aim at fome great bird and
brought it down; but as it fell into fome deep
valley, over fome rocks which it was impoffible
to defcend, they defpaired of gaining their prey.
Jack,


38
THE HISTORY OF
Jack, immediately, with officious hafte, ſet off and
ran down the more level fide of the hill, think-
ing to make a circuit and reach the valley into
which the bird had fallen. He fet off, therefore,
but as he was totally ignorant of the country, he,
in a fhort time, buried himſelf fo deep in the
wood, which grew continually thicker, that he
knew not which way to proceed. He then thought
it moſt prudent to return; but this he found as
difficult to effect as the other. He therefore
wandered about the woods with inconceivable
difficulty all day, but could never find his com-
pany nor even reach the ſhore, or obtain the pro-
fpect of the fea. At length the night approached,
and Jack, who perceived it to be impoffible to do
that in the dark, which he had not been able to
effect in the light, lay down under a rock, and
compofed himſelf to reft, as well as he was able.
The next day he rofe with the light, and once
more attempted to regain the ſhore: but unfor
tunately he had totally loft all idea of the direc-
tion he ought to purſue, and ſaw nothing around
him but the difmal profpect of woods and hills
and precipices, without a guide or path. Jack
now began to be very hungry, but as he had a
fowling piece with him, and powder and ſhot, he
foon procured himſelf a dinner; and kindling a
fire with fome dry leaves and flicks, he roafted
his


LITTLE JACK.
39
his game upon the embers, and dined as com-
fortably as he could be expected to do, in fo for-
lorn a fituation. Finding himſelf much refreſhed,
he purſued his journey, but with as little fuccefs
as ever. On the third day, he indeed came in
fight of the ſea, but found that he was quite on a
different fide of the iſland from that where he left
the ſhip, and that neither ſhip nor boat was to be
feen. Jack now loft all hopes of rejoining his
comrades, for he knew the fhip was to fail at
fartheft upon the third day, and would not wait
for him. He, therefore, fat down very penfively
upon a rock, and caft his eyes upon the vaſt ex-
tent of ocean which was ftretched out before him.
He found himſelf now abandoned upon a ſtrange
country, without a fingle friend, acquaintance, or
even any one who ſpoke the fame language. He
at


THE HISTORY OF
at first thought of feeking out the natives, and
making known to them his deplorable ſtate; but
he began to fear the reception he might meet
with among them. They might not be pleaſed,
he thought, with his company, and might take the
liberty of treating him as the white men gene-
rally treat the blacks when they get them into
their poffeffion; that is, make him work hard
with very little victuals, and knock him on the
head if he attempted to run away. And there-
fore, fays Jack, as he was meditating all alone, it
may, perhaps, be better for me to ſtay quiet
where I am. It is true, indeed, I fhall not have
much company to talk to, but then I fhall have
nobody to quarrel with me, or baa, or laugh at
my poor daddy and mammy. Neither do I at
preſent ſee how I ſhall get a livelihood, when my
powder and ſhot are all expended; but however I
fhall hardly be ftarved, for I faw feveral kinds of
fruit in the woods, and fome roots which look
very much like carrots. As to cloaths, when mine
wear out, I fhall not much want new ones; for
the weather is charmingly warm; and therefore,
all things confidered, I don't ſee why I ſhould not
be as happy here as in any other place. When
Jack had finiſhed his fpeech, he fet himſelf to
find a lodging for the night. He had not exa-
mined far before he found a dry cavern in a rock,
which


LITTLE JACK.
41
which he thought would prove a very comfortable
refidence; he therefore went to work with an
hatchet he had with him, and cut fome boughs
of trees, which he fpread upon the floor, and over
thofe a long filky kind of grafs, which he found in
plenty near the place, to make himſelf a bed. His
next care was, how to fecure himſelf in caſe of
any attack, for he did not know whether the island
contained any wild beafts or not. He therefore
cut down feveral branches of trees, and wove them
into a kind of wicker work, as he had feen the
men do hurdles when he lived with the farmer;
with this contrivance he found he could very fe-
curely barricade the entrance of his cave. And
now, as the evening was again approaching, he
began to feel himſelf hungry, and ſeeking along
the fea-fhore, he found fome fhell-fifh, which
ſupplied him with a plentiful meal. The next day
Jack arofe, a little melancholy indeed, but with a
refolution to ftruggle manfully with the difficul-
ties of his fituation. He walked into the woods
and faw feveral kinds of fruit and berries, fome
of which he ventured to eat, as the birds had
pecked them, and found the taſte agreeable. He
alfo dug up feveral fpecies of roots, but feared to
taſte them left they ſhould be poiſonous. At
length, he ſelected one that very much refembled
a potatoe, and determined to roaft it in the em-
bers,


42
THE HISTORY OF
bers, and taſte a very ſmall bit. It can hardly,
thought Jack, do me much hurt, in fo very ſmall
a quantity; and if that agrees with me I will in-
creaſe the dofe. The root was fortunately ex-
tremely wholeſome and nutritive, fo that Jack
was in a very short time tolerably fecure againſt
the danger of wanting food. In this manner did
Jack lead a kind of ſavage, but tolerably con-
tented life, for feveral months; during which
time he enjoyed perfect health, and was never
diſcovered by any of the natives. He uſed ſeveral
times a-day to viſit the ſhore, in hopes that fome
fhip might paſs that way and deliver him from
his folitary impriſonment. This, at length, hap-
pened, by the boat of an Engliſh ſhip, that was
failing to India, happening to touch upon the
coaft; Jack inftantly hailed the crew, and the
officer,


LITTLE JACK.
43
officer, upon hearing the ftory, agreed to re-
ceive him; the captain too, when he found that
Jack was by no means a contemptible failor,
very willingly gave him his paffage, and promiſed
him a gratuity beſides, if he behaved well.
Jack arrived in India without any accident,
and relating his ftory, was permitted to ferve
in another regiment, as his own was no longer
there. He foon diftinguiſhed himſelf by his
courage and good behaviour on feveral occa-
fions, and before long was advanced to the rank
of a ferjeant. In this capacity, he was order-
ed out upon an expedition into the remote parts
of the country. The little army in which he
ferved now marched on for feveral weeks,
through a burning climate, and in want of all
the neceffaries of life. At length, they entered
upon fome extenfive plains, which bordered
upon the celebrated country of the Tartars.
Jack was perfectly well acquainted with the
hiftory of this people, and their method of
fighting. He knew them to be fome of the
beft horſemen in the world; indefatigable in
their attacks, though often repulfed returning
to the charge, and not to be invaded with im-
punity; he, therefore, took the liberty of ob-
ferving to fome of the officers, that nothing
could be more dangerous than their rafhly en-
gaging themſelves in thoſe extenfive plains,
where


44
THE HISTORY OF
where they were every moment expoſed to the
attacks of cavalry, without any fuccefsful me-
thod of defence, or place of retreat, in caſe of
any misfortune. Theſe remonftrances were
not much attended to, and after a few hours
farther march, they were alarmed by the ap-
proach of a confiderable body of Tartar horfe-
men. They, however, drew up with all the
order they were able, and firing feveral fuccef-
five vollies, endeavoured to keep the enemy at
a diſtance. But the Tartars had no defign of
doing that with a confiderable lofs, which they
were fure of doing with eaſe and ſafety. Inſtead
therefore of charging the Europeans, they con-
tented themſelves with giving continual alarms,
and menacing them on every fide, without
expofing themſelves to any confiderable dan,
ger.


LITTLE JACK.
45
1
ger. The army now attempted to retreat, hop-
ing that they fhould be able to arrive at the
neighbouring mountains, where they would be
fafe from the incurfions of the horſe. But in
this attempt they were equally diſappointed; for
another confiderable body of enemies appeared
on that fide, and blocked their paffage. The
Europeans now found they were furrounded on
all fides, and that refiftance was vain. The
commanding officer, therefore, judged it expe-
dient to try what could be effected by negocia-
tion, and ſent one of his officers, who underſtood
fomething of the Tartar language, to treat with
the general of the enemies. The Tartar chief
received the Europeans with great civility, and
after having gently reproached them with their
ambition, in coming fo far to invade a people
who had never injured them, he confented upon
very moderate conditions to their enlargement:
but he infifted upon having their arms delivered
up, except a very few which he permitted them
to keep for defence in their return, and upon
retaining a certain number of Europeans as hof-
tages for the performance of the ftipulated arti-
cles. Among thoſe who were thus left with the
Tartars Jack happened to be included, and while
all the reft feemed inconfolable at being thus
made priſoners by a barbarous nation, he alone,
accuſtomed to all the viciffitudes of life, retain-
ed
7
k


46
THE HISTORY OF
ed his cheerfulneſs, and prepared to meet every
reverſe of fortune with his ufual firmnefs.
The Tartars among whom Jack was now to
refide, conftitute feveral different tribes or na-
tions which inhabit an immenfe extent of coun
try both in Europe and Afia. Their country
is in general open and uncultivated, without ci-
ties or towns, fuch as we fee in England. The
inhabitants themſelves are a bold and hardy race
of men that live in ſmall tents, and change their
place of abode with the different ſeaſons of the
year. All their property confifts in herds of
cattle, which they drive along with them from
place to place; and upon whofe milk and fleſh
they fubfift
They are particularly fond of
horſes, of which they have a ſmall but excel-
lent breed, hardy and indefatigable for the pur-
poſes of war, and they excel in the management
of them, beyond what is eaſy to conceive. Im-
menfe herds of theſe animals wander looſe about
the deferts, but marked with the particular mark
of the perſon or tribe to which they belong.
When they want any of theſe animals for ufe,
a certain number of their young men jump upon
their horſes with nothing but an halter to guide
them, each carrying in his hand a pole with a
nooſe or cord at the end. When they come in
fight of the herd, they purſue the horſe they wish
1
to


LITTLE JACK.
47
to take at full ſpeed, come up with him in ſpite
of his ſwiftneſs, and never fail to throw the noofe
about his neck as he runs. They are frequently
known to jump upon young horfes that have
paffed their whole life in the defert, and with
only a girt around the animal's body to hold by,
maintain their feat, in ſpite of all his violent
exertions, until they have wearied him out and
reduced him into perfect obedience. Such was the
nation with whom the lot of Jack was now to
refide, nor was he long before he had an oppor-
tunity of fhewing his talents.
It happened that a favourite horſe of the
chief was taken with a violent fever, and feem-
ed to be in immediate danger of death. The
Khan, for fo he is called among the Tartars,
feeing his horſe grow hourly worſe, at length
applied to the Europeans, to know if they
could fuggeft any thing for his recovery. All
the officers were profoundly ignorant of far-
riery; but when the application was made to
Jack, he defired to ſee the horſe, and with great
gravity began to feel his pulfe, by paffing his
hand within the animal's fore-leg; which gave
the Tartars a very high idea of his ingenuity.
Finding that the animal was in a high fever,
he propoſed to the Khan to let him blood,
which he had learned to do very dexterouſly in
England. He obtained permiffion to do as he
pleaſed,


4.8
THE HISTORY OF
pleaſed, and having by great good luck a lancet.
with him, he let him blood very dexterously.
in the neck. After this operation he covered
thewor
him up, and gave him a warm potion made
out of fuch ingredients as he could procure
upon the ſpot, and left him quiet. In a few
hours the horſe began to mend, and, to the
great joy of the Khan, perfectly recovered in a.
few days. This cure, fo opportunely perform-
ed, raiſed the reputation of Jack fo high,.
that every body came to confult him about.
their horfes, and in a fhort time he was the
univerfal farrier of the tribe. The Khan him-
felf conceived fo great an affection for him, that
he gave him an excellent horfe to rid upon.
and attend him in his hunting parties; and
Jack, who excelled in the art or horfemanſhip,
.
mana-


LITTLE JACK..
49
managed him fo well as to gain the efteem of
the whole nation.
The Tartars, though they are excellent horſe-
men, have no idea of managing their horfes, un-
leſs by violence; but Jack in a ſhort time, by
continual care and attention, made his horfe
fo docile and obedient to every motion of his
hand and leg, that the Tartars themſelves would
gaze upon him with admiration, and allow them-
felves to be outdone. Not contented with this,
he procured fome iron, and made his horſe ſhoes
in the European tafte; this alfo was matter of
aftonishment to all the Tartars, who are accuf-
tomed to ride their horfes unfhod. He next ob-
ferved that the Tartar faddles are all prodigiouíly
large and cumberfome, raifing the horfernan up
to a great diftance from the back of his horfe.
Jack ſet himſelf to work, and was not long be-
D
fore
-


50
THE HISTORY OF
fore he had completed fomething like an Eng-
lifh hunting faddle, on which he paraded before
the Khan. All mankind feem to have a paffion
for novelty, and the Khan was fo delighted with
this effort of Jack's ingenuity, that, after paying
him the higheſt compliments, he intimated a de-
fire of having fuch a faddle for himſelf. Jack
was the moft obliging creature in the world, and
fpared no labour to ferve his friends; he went to
work again, and in a fhort time completed at
faddle ſtill more elegant for the Khan. Theſe
exertions gained him the favour and efteem both
of the Khan and all the tribe; fo that Jack was
an univerfal favourite, and loaded with prefents,
while all the reft of the officers, who had never
learned to make a faddle or an horfe-fhoe, were
treated with contempt and indifference. Jack,
indeed, behaved with the greateſt generofity to
his countrymen, and divided with them all the
mutton and venifon which were given him; but
he could not help fometimes obferving, that it
was great pity they had not learned to make an
horfe-thue inſtead of dancing and dreffing hair.
And now an Ambaſſador arrived from the Eng-
lifh fettlements, with an account that all the con-
ditions of the treaty had been performed, and
demanding the reftitution of the prifoners. The
Tartar Chief was too much a man of honour to
delay an inftant, and they were all reftored; but
before
1
8
1


LITTLE JACK.
51.
before they fet out, Jack laboured with indefa-
tigable zeal to finish a couple of faddles and a
dozen horſe-ſhoes, which he preſented to the
Khan, with many expreffions of gratitude. The
Khan was charmed with this proof of his affec-
tion, and in return made him a preſent of a
couple of fine horfes, and feveral valuable ſkins
of beafts. Jack arrived without any accident at
the Engliſh fettlements, and felling his ſkins and
horſes, found himſelf in poffeffion of a moderate
fum of money. He now began to have a defire
to return to England, and one of the officers,
who had often been obliged to him during his
captivity, procured him a difcharge. He em-
barked, therefore, with all his property on board
a fhip, which was returning home, and in a few
months was fafely landed at Plymouth.
But Jack was too active and too prudent to
D 2
give


52
THE HISTORY OF
give himſelf up to idleneſs. After confidering
various ſchemes of bufinefs, he determined to
take up his old trade of forging; and for that
purpoſe made a journey into the North, and
found his old mafter alive, and as active as ever.
His mafter, who had always entertained an
efteem for Jack, welcomed him with great af-
fection, and being in want of a foreman, he en-
gaged him at a very handfome price for that
place. Jack was now indefatigable in the exe-
cution of his new office; inflexibly honeft where
the intereſts of his maſter were concerned, and
at the fame time humane and obliging to the
men who were under him, he gained the affec-
tion of all about him. In a few years, his maf-
ter was fo thoroughly convinced of his merit,
that growing old himſelf, he took Jack into part-
nerſhip, and committed the management of the
whole bufinefs to his care. He continued to
exert the fame qualities now which he had done
before, by which means he improved the bu
finefs fo much, as to gain a confiderable fortune,
and become one of the moft refpectable manu-
facturers in the country.-But, with all this prof-
perity, he never difcovered the leaſt pride or
haughtiness; on the contrary, he employed part
of his fortune to purchaſe the moor where he for-
merly lived, and built himſelf a ſmall, but con-
venient houſe, upon the very ſpot where his dad-
dy's


LITTLE JACK.
53
dy's hut had formerly ftood. Hither he would
fometimes retire from bufinefs, and cultivate his
garden with his own hands, for he hated'id'enefs.
13441931 113-11
To all his poor neighbours he was kind and
liberal, relieving them in their diftrefs, and often
entertaining them at his houfe, where he used to
dine with them, with the greateft affability, and
frequently relate his own ftory, in order to prove
that it is of very little confequence how a man
comes into the world, provided he behaves well,
and diſcharges his duty when he is in it.
D 3
A SKETCH


34
A SKETCH OF
A SKETCH OF UNIVERSAL HISTORY:
ADVERTISEMENT.
HE following Sketch of Univerſal Hiſtory
was written by a gentleman for the uſe of
two young ladies, and not intended for publica-
tion;
but as it was defigned to ſupply what he
thought was wanting to give the minds of chil-
dren fome idea of general hiſtory, and as it per-
fectly anſwered the purpoſe for which he com-
pofed it, he has been induced to publish it, that
others might reap the fame advantage which
thoſe have for whoſe uſe it was particularly com-
pofed.
There are, it is true, many abridgments of Sa-
cred, Greek, Roman, and Engliſh Hiſtory; but
fome ſhort ſketch of General Hiſtory ſeems want-
ing, that the learner may be enabled to fee how
the ſeparate parts are connected with each other.
This deficiency is here attempted to be fupplied;
and as young minds are too volatile to be long
fixed, it is drawn on as fmall a fcale as poffible:
on the fame account it was thought proper not
to load it with chronological dates, but to throw
it into a conciſe and fimple narrative, that the
connection of the fucceffive events with each
other might be readily acquired, and eaſily re-
tained when acquired.
"
The


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
55
The author has carefully avoided the giving a
greater ſpace to thofe circumſtances which are
neareſt the preſent time; for though in larger
hiſtories this muſt neceffarily happen, from the
increafing quantity of materials, yet it is a
fault in a work of this fort, fince it tends to
impreſs on the ductile imagination of youth
wrong ideas of chronology, which are not eafily
eradicated, as the mind will be apt to connect
the length of the æra with the number of the
pages it occupies.
The author of theſe ſheets is free to confefs,
that his own imagination, even in riper years,
was ſo much biaffed by this early prejudice, that
it coft fome pains to correct it; and he will
venture to ſay, that many perſons of no incon-
fiderable hiftorical knowledge will find the time
beſtowed on a careful perufal of this Sketch, ac-
companied with an inſpection of Doctor Prieft-
ley's Hiftorical and Biographical Charts, by no
means thrown away.
A SKETCH, &c.
THE
HE earlieft information we have of the ac-
tions of mankind is from the Holy Scrip-
tures. We have there an account of the crea-
tion of the world, the destruction of it by the
Flood, the renewal of mankind by the family of
C 4
Noah,


56
A SKETCH OF
Noah, who were preferved in the Ark, and their
increaſe and difperfion over the whole face of
the earth. The Scriptures then proceed princi-
pally with the hiftory of the defcendants of
Abraham, whofe great grandfon, Jofeph, fettling
in Egypt with his eleven brothers, they became,
with their progeny, flaves to that powerful people.
But increafing in proceſs of time, they migrated
from thence, and fettled in Paleſtine, after many
wars, expelling the old inhabitants, who are cal-
led, in our tranflation of the Bible, Philiftines.
The defcendants of Abraham ftiled themſelves
Ifraelites, or children of Ifrael, from Jacob, the
father of Jofeph, who was alfo named Ifrael.
They divided the country among their twelve
tribes, diſtinguiſhed by the names of the twelve
fons of Jacob, from whom they were feverally
defcended. At first, they were governed by ma-
giftrates, called Judges; and afterwards by Kings.
In the reign of Rehoboam, their fourth King,
fon to Solomon, and grandfon to David, ten of
the tribes revolted, under a leader named Je-
roboam, leaving two tribes only, viz. Juda and
Benjamin, under Rehoboam, whofe defcendants
were called Kings of Juda, from whence the
name of Jews was derived; and the fucceffors of..
Jeroboam were called Kings of Ifrael.
Several powerful nations aroſe in their neigh-
bourhood, which all became in time fubject to
the


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
57
1
the empire of Affyria. To fuch a formidable
enemy the offspring of Abraham were an eaſy
conqueft: the ten tribes of Ifrael were carried
into captivity, and their name no more heard of
among the nations: the chief perfons among
the Jews were alſo carried to Babylon, the capi-
tal of Affyria; but the people were permitted to
remain at home under the dominion of their
conquerors.
Soon after this a new power aroſe. The King
of Affyria turned his arms againſt the Medes
and Perfians. Cambyfes, King of Perſia, had
married Mandane, daughter of Aftyages, King
of Media. The firft attack of the Affyrians
was againſt Media. The Perfians fent Cyrus,
fon of Cambyfes and Mandane, at the head of
an army, to the affiftance of his uncle Cyaxares,
who was then King. The invader was repelled,
invaded in his turn, the King of Affyria killed
at the taking of Babylon, and the whole empire
reduced under the dominion of the Medes and
Perfians, over both of whom Cyrus reigned, by
marrying the only daughter of his uncle Cyax-
ares. Thus was the Perfian empire founded.
The Perfian empire extended over all the
known parts of Afia: and the ambition of Da-
rius, a fucceffor, though not a deſcendant of Cy-
rus, induced him to attempt the conqueft of part
D 5
of
1


53
A SKETCH OF
of Europe; but here he met with a fevere re-
pulfe from the Grecian republics.
This ſmall people, who inhabited a country of
narrow extent, were not only able, by their cou-
rage and military ſkill, to check this powerful
invader, but they had made fuch a proficiency
in wiſdom and arts, that we may now fay, every
attainment modern Europe has made in both, is
principally, if not folely derived from them.
The origin of this fingular people is very uncer-
tain. The first time they made any confpicuous
figure in the annals of mankind, was in the Tro-
jan war, which has been rendered immortal by
the poems of Homer. At that time they were
divided into fmall kingdoms, under limited mo-
narchs; all of which, before the Perfian inva-
fion, were formed into republics.
1
The Perfian King Darius defpifed fuch feeble
antagoniſts; but both he and his fon Xerxes foon
learned, by fatal experience, the advantage of
valour and difcipline over timid multitudes. Af-
ter the lofs of immenfe armies, the Kings of
Perfia contented themſelves with fomenting the
differences which began to arife among the Gre-
cian republics, in which Athens and Sparta took
the lead; and remaining anxious fpectators of
the bloody wars which they made with each
other, when freed from the apprehenfions of a
foreign enemy.
While


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
59
While Greece was thus wafting her ſtrength
in wars at home, great jealoufy was ftill enter-
tained left the common enemy (for ſo the King
of Perfia was eſteemed) fhould take advantage
of her weakneſs to accompliſh his ambitious
defigns, when a ftorm unexpectedly burst on
them from another quarter.
There was a country to the north of Greece,
called Macedonia, which, though in many re-
fpects congenial with it, was looked on as bar-
barous (for the Greeks called all nations but
themſelves Barbarians). Macedonia was go-
verned by an abfolute King. Philip, Prince of
Macedonia, happening, on fome occafion, to be
an hoftage among the Greeks, had the advan-
tage, at the ſame time, of learning their art of
war, and feeing their internal diffentions. Pro-
fiting by this knowledge, when he fucceeded to
the throne of Macedonia, he fo contrived to em-
broil the affairs of Greece by corruption and in-
trigue, and by taking part fometimes with one
party, and fometimes with another, fo to weaken
the whole, that, having bribed the Chiefs of
fome of the republics to his intereft, and totally
defeated the Athenians and their allies at the
battle of Charonea, he rendered Greece entirely
dependent on himſelf.
Knowing, however, the difficulty of keeping
fuch a people in peaceable ſubjection, he plan-
D 6
ned


60
A SKETCH OF
ned the popular ſcheme of an invaſion of Perfia;
affembling for this purpofe the whole force of
Greece, and caufing himſelf to be acknowledged
Chief of the confederacy. In the midſt of this
undertaking he was affaffinated, and was fucceed-
ed in his power by his fon, diſtinguiſhed by the
appellation of Alexander the Great.
•
Alexander, immediately putting himſelf at
the head of this formidable army, conquered the
Perfian empire, with all its dependencies, and,
penetrating to the banks of the Ganges, fubdued
even part of that country fo well known to us by
the name of the Eaſt-Indies. But this immenſe
empire was of ſhort duration; for, on his return,
he died at Babylon, as fome fay, by poiſon, as
others by exceffive drinking, leaving his vaft do-
minions to be divided among his Generals. Afia,
Egypt, and Greece, exhibited a continual fcene
of war and defolation, eſpecially Greece, where
there were perpetual ftruggles between the fuc-
ceffors of Alexander for dominion and the re-
publics for liberty, till the whole was reduced to
fubjection by the power of Rome.
1
Rome, which makes fo confpicuous a figure
in the hiftory of mankind, aroſe from being a
ſmall ſtate to the utmoſt extent of territory and
power. At firſt it was governed by Kings, who
were expelled for their tyranny, and two annual
magiftrates chofen in their place; thefe, with
the


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
61
the fenate and affemblies of the people, formed
the government, not unlike our King, Lords, and
Commons. The Romans foon engaged in wars
with the other ftates of Italy, all of which they
finally conquered; increaſing by thoſe means
not only their ſtrength but their military know-
ledge; and as many of the Italian ſtates were
Greek colonies, they had all the advantage of
the Grecian art of war, improved by their own
experience. Being maſters of Italy, they turned
their arms againſt Sicily, which engaged them
in a war with Carthage, a powerful ſtate on the
north of Africa, who had colonies in that iſland.
This war was profecuted with various fuccefs,
till the perfeverance and courage of the Romans
prevailed, and Carthage was totally fubdued.
To return to the affairs of Greece: Rome
made the affifting the Greek republics a pre-
tence for interfering in their difputes, and finally
reduced both the oppreffors and the oppreffed to
an entire dependence on herſelf.
'The armies of Rome now became invincible.
Not only Afia, Egypt, Greece, and the northern
parts of Africa, were fubdued, but the extended.
her conquefts to Spain, Gaul, and Britain.
Yet, amid theſe fplendid ſcenes of victory
abroad, Rome was torn to pieces by factions at
home. At firſt the ftruggles were between the
fenate and the people, till particular perſons
obtaining


62
A SKETCH OF
obtaining power by holding long commands
abroad, the names of the popular, or noble
party were only uſed as fkreens to the ambition
of individuals. The laft great conteft was be-
tween Julius Cæfar and Pompey; the firſt of
whom had commanded in the northern, and the
other in the eaſtern provinces. The decifive
battle of Pharfalia, and the fubfequent death of
Pompey, gave the whole Roman empire into
the hands of Cæfar. The fpirit of liberty, how-
ever, made one dying effort. Cæfar was ftabbed
in the ſenate houſe, and an army raiſed in de-
fence of public freedom. But after a fhort war,
the veteran troops of Cæfar, under command of
Octavius, his nephew and adopted heir, Marcus
Antonius, his friend, and Lepidus, one of his
generals, defeated the army of the republic,
and the three leaders divided the empire among
them.
Lepidus, being a weak man, was foon de-
pofed; and M. Antonius, devoted to his plea-
fures, ſhut himſelf up in Egypt with Cleopatra,
the queen of that country. Octavius Cæfar,
taking advantage of his indolence, encroached
on his provinces, and a war enfuing, Antonius
was totally defeated at the naval battle of Acti-
um, foon after which he killed himſelf, and
Octavius remained fole mafter of the Roman
empire, with the title of Emperor, and the name
of


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
63.
of Auguftus Cæfar; and Rome, with its vaft ter-
ritories, from this period became fubject to the
dominion of an arbitrary monarch.
Our Saviour was born during the reign of Au-
guftus, and fuffered crucifixion under Tiberius,
his immediate fucceffor.
From this time the whole civilized world be-
ing under one maſter, hiſtory for a long period
has little elfe to record than the characters of
the Roman Emperors; and mankind were happy
or miſerable as their governors were mild or
cruel. Perhaps the fate of the human race was
never more enviable than when fuch characters
as Titus, Trajan, or the Antonines, were maſters
of the world. While under the government of
fuch monsters, as Caligula, Nero, and Domitian,
who ſeemed to delight only in cruelty, mankind
were in the moſt miſerable fituation, unable ei-
ther to refift the power of the tyrant, or eſcape
from his dominions, as there was no country out
of the limits of the Roman empire that was not
inhabited by the moſt favage barbarians. It
may not be amifs here to mention, that, under
the reign of Titus, tenth Emperor from Au-
guftus, the city of Jerufalem, after repeated re-
bellions, was finally deſtroyed by the Romans,
and the Jews difperfed, as they remain at this
day a fingular inftance of a people, who hav-
ing loft their country, ftill maintain, though
fcattered


64
A SKETCH OF
fcattered over the face of the earth, their re-
ligion, their language, and their laws, the fame
as they were at a period far beyond any anti-
quity to which the annals of any the moſt an-
cient nation extend.
"
Though the barbarous tribes that bordered on
the Roman empire were continually infeſting
the frontiers with hoftilities, and gradually en-
croaching on its provinces, yet it fuffered no
great diminution of territory till after the time
of Conftantine, who was the forty-first Emperor
in fucceffion from Auguftus, and lived upwards
of three hundred years after him.
During that period Chriſtianity had been gra-
dually, though privately, extending itſelf. The
profeffors of it had been cruelly perfecuted
by fome of the Emperors, and tolerated by
others; but Conftantine was the first Emperor
who openly profeffed to be a Chriftian, and
from his time Chriſtianity became the eſtabliſh-
ed religion of the empire.
Conftantine, from an abfurd vanity, removed
the imperial feat from Rome to a city of his
own building, between the Mediterranean and
Euxine Seas, which he called Conftantinopolis,
or the city of Conftantine; and on his death he
divided the empire between his fons. From this
time the Roman empire confifted of two parts;
the one, whoſe feat continued at Rome, was
called


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
65
called the Weſtern Empire; the other, whofe
capital was Conftantinople, was called the Eaft-
ern, and ſometimes the Grecian Empire.
The empire, being thus divided, grew confe-
quently weaker, and the inroads of the barbar-
ous nations more formidable. The Goths and
Vandals attacked the Weſtern Empire. The
Franks, a brave, though uncivilized people, pof-
feffed themſelves of Gaul, from whom it receiv-
ed the name of France. The Britons, on being
abandoned by Rome to the inroads of the favage
tribes in the north of the iſland, called in the
Saxons to their affiftance, who foon made them-
felves mafters of the whole, except the moun-
tains of Wales and Scotland, which afforded an
afylum to the ancient inhabitants. And Rome,
itſelf, under Auguftulus, the laſt of its Emperors,
was taken by Odoacer, King of the Heruli.
The Eaſtern empire was attacked by the Sa-
racens, a fierce people, who had embraced the
religion of Mahomet, an impoftor, and founder
of a new fect, whofe doctrine foon ſpread, and
ftill retains its influence, in the Eaft. This war-
like race conquered Arabia, Syria, Egypt, and
the northern coafts of Africa; but they were, in
their turn, expelled by the Turks, a nation of
Scythian origin, who adopted the religion and
manners of the vanquished. The provinces of
the


66
A SKETCH OF,
the Eaſtern empire gradually mouldered away,
till it was at laft confined to the walls of Con-
ftantinople. A final period was put to the Ro-
man empire fo late as the year of our Lord 1453,
when Conftantinople was taken by Mahomet,
Sultan of the Turks, of whofe dominion it has
ever fince remained the capital. This happened
under Conftantine X. (the hundred and four-
teenth Emperor in fucceffion from Auguftus),
who was killed in the affault, 2200 years from
the foundation of Rome, and during the reign of
Henry VI. of England.
This was the real end of the Roman empire;
but previous to this, fo early as the year of our
Lord 800, there was a pretended revival of it
in the perſon of Charlemagne, or Charles the
Great.
The barbarous tribes who overturned the Ro-
man empire, having very obfcure notions of any
religion, eaſily adopted that of the people they
conquered; and as the Saracens, and after them
the Turks, who ravaged the Eaft, embraced the
errors of Mahomet, which they found eſtabliſhed
in Arabia, fo the northern barbarians who con-
quered Gaul, Germany, and Italy, were eaſily
converted to the faith of Chrift: and the Biſhop
of Rome, who affumed the title of Pope, and
Patriarch of the Roman church, ſoon obtained
the


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
67
the fame influence over the Heruli, and the
Lombards, who fucceeded them, as he had over
the Romans under their Chriftian Emperors.
But Defiderius, the Lombard King of Italy, op-
poſing the ambition of Pope Stephen III. the
Pope called Charlemagne, King of France, to
his aid, who dethroned Defiderius and conquer-
ed Italy as a reward for which, the Pope crown-
ed him Emperor at Rome; and Charlemagne
becoming afterwards maſter of Germany, and
dividing his dominions between his fons, that to
whom Germany fell retained the title of Roman
Emperor, which his fucceffors ftill continue to
affume and the head of a limited elective mo-
narchy, who refides at Vienna, now calls him-
felf Emperor of the Romans, and takes the names
of Cæfar and Auguftus.
About the fame time that Charlemagne made
thefe conquefts on the continent of Europe,
Egbert united the feven provinces into which
the Saxons had divided all the ſouthern part of
this iſland (except Wales) into one kingdom by
the name of England.
Theſe barbarians were no fooner fettled in
their conquefts, and in fome degree civilized,
than a freſh inundation poured in from the
north, under the name of Danes and Normans,
and, committing the fame ravages on the new
. poffeffors which they had committed on the old
inhabitants.


68
A SKETCH OF
inhabitants, at laft fixed themſelves, part in
Germany, part in England, and part in that pro-
vince of France which yet retains the name of
Normandy; and, as their predeceffors had done,
foon affumed the religion and manners of the
vanquished.
As thefe northern nations fettled over all the
western parts of Europe, which were divided
by them into many ftates, fo the fame form of
government, derived from the fame origin, was
eftabliſhed in them all. The leader of each
army of invaders was confidered as King, and
in ſome meaſure as proprietor, of the conquered
territory. But as it was neceffary to have an
army ready at all times to repel new invaders,
and guard againſt the encroachment of neigh-
bours, the King, or General, parcelled out his
land among the fuperior officers, who, by way
of acknowledgment, were bound to furnish him
with a proportionable affiftance of men and
arms in time of war, and to attend his councils
in time of peace. And theſe leaders, to enable
themſelves to command the requifite number of
troops which they were to furniſh, allotted part
of their lands again to the inferior officers and
foldiers, on condition that they fhould attend
them to the wars when fummoned by the King
or the Lord Paramount. And this, which is
called the feudal ſyſtem, is the origin of that li-
2
mitted


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
69
mitted monarchy, which, till within theſe two
centuries, was eſtabliſhed throughout the great-
eft part of Europe, and which this iſland has
been fo happy as to preſerve.
Civilization has as yet made but a ſmall
fmall pro-
grefs: the writings of the ancient Greeks and
Romans, which are now the models of every
thing great and elegant, were confined to the
hands of a bigotted clergy; and war was the
fole delight of princes and nobles too ignorant
even to write their names.
This warlike fpirit, however, was attended
by fome good confequences: for the Saracens,
who had overrun the eaſtern parts of Europe,
began to turn their arms againſt the fouthern
parts of western Europe; they threatened Italy,
invaded the fouthern part of France, their Afri-
can colonies had made themſelves mafters of
the best part of Spain, and nothing leſs than the
warlike turn of its inhabitants could have pre-
vented all Europe from becoming a prey to
thefe fierce barbarians, and the confequent
rudeness and defpotifm which ever have attend-
ed the religion of Mahomet wherever it pre-
vails.
The Chriftian Doctrine, corrupted as it was
by the Church of Rome, had yet a tendency to
poliſh and ſoften the manners of its profeffors;
and even the power of the Pope, whoſe ſupre-
macy


70
A SKETCH OF
macy was acknowledged by fo many indepen-
dent and turbulent princes, though often uſed
for the purpoſes of fuperftition, was fometimes
alſo inftrumental in ftopping the progress, or
mitigating the horrors of war.
A new fpirit of enterprize now took place in
Europe. As the zeal for Chriftianity increaf-
ed, the warlike princes and nobles who profeff-
ed it, beheld with indignation the fcene of all
the miracles, recorded both in the Old and
New Teftament, in the hands of infidels. The
Pope encouraged this religious fervour; and vaft
armies were poured forth to refcue theſe confe-
crated feats from the Mahometans. But, after
deluging the plains of Palestine with Chriftian
blood, and making a conqueft of Jerufalem,
which could not be retained, the votaries of
Mahomet remained, and ftill remain, poffeffors
of that country which is commonly called the
Holy Land.
Some advantage, however, was derived from
theſe enterprizes. Part of the immenſe armies
that paffed from Europe to Afia, took their
route by Conftantinople; and though, to their
fhame it muſt be owned, that while their end
was to refcue part of Afia from the power of
infidels, they themſelves committed devaftation
in the dominions of the only Chriſtian Prince in
the caft of Europe, yet they were ftruck with
the


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
71
1
the magnificence of the court of Conftantinople,
where fome relics of the fplendour of the Ro-
man Empire were ftill preferved. This intro-
duced a tafte for the arts among the Princes of
weſtern Europe; and on the Turks putting an
end to the caftern empire by the capture of
Conftantinople, the learned men of that city
migrated into France, Italy, Germany, and Bri-
tain, and introduced there a knowledge of Gre-
cian literature.
Happily for the revival of learning, Leo X.
who was then Pope, was as defirous of extend-
ing literature as fome of his predeceffors had
been of ſpreading ignorance: he therefore en-
tertained the Grecian exiles, and encouraged
letters among the.clergy. At this time Europe
was in a more pacific ftate: England breathed
after the long wars between York and Lancaf-
ter: France, from being divided among a num-
ber of independent nobles, each able to awe the
titular King, became one powerful monarchy:
the Moors were driven out of Spain, and that
whole country, which had formed many fepa-
rate kingdoms, was united by the marriage of
Ferdinand of Caftile and Ifabella of Arragon:
Germany was one large republic of Princes, of
whom the Emperor was the head; and Italy
was divided into many ſmall ſtates, the chief of
which


72
A SKETCH OF
1
which were the kingdom of Naples, and the
commonwealth of Venice.
The Pope now found his authority ſhaken.
As literature advanced, a ſpirit of inquiry took
place, and the monftrous errors grafted by the
church of Rome on the pure religion of Chriſt'
began to be perceived. Luther and Calvin pub-
liſhed their opinions on this fubject, and had
many followers, who, from protefting againſt
the errors of the church of Rome, obtained the
name of Proteftants; and their opinions prevail-
ed in England, the northern countries, and part
of Germany and Switzerland.
About this time the art of navigation being
greatly improved, a large continent was dif-
covered in the weft, called America. Many
colonies were foon formed there by the Engliſh,
French and Spaniards, which have occafioned
frequent wars among thofe nations. From this
period, as commerce has increaſed, mankind
have become more civilized. Religion and po-
litics for a time filled both England and France
with inteftine commotions. Charles I. of Eng-
land' was brought to the ſcaffold by his fubjects,
and Henry IV. of France was ſtabbed by an
enthufiaft. But at length thefe ftorms have fub-
fided. By the arts of Lewis XIV. France is
brought to be an abfolute monarchy, without
any


UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
73.
any legal reftraint, indeed, on the power of the
crown; but as that crown derives all its ſtability
from a gallant nobleſſe, jealous to a degree of
their honour, that honour muſt be reſpected,
and is a fufficient barrier againſt any wanton
exertion of defpotifm. The ſpirit of the people
of England has obtained them a form of govern-
ment which is the envy of the world.
The hiſtory of theſe nations, eternal rivals in
glory and intereft, for the two laſt centuries, is
in fact the hiftory of the world. During that
period, there has been no war of any confe-
quence between European powers in any part
of the world in which they have not acted a
principal part; and a war between them extends
its influence from the fhores of America to the
banks of the Ganges. They have been conftantly
ready to attack each other on the moſt trivial
occafions, and even their treaties of peace have
feemed rather ceffations of hoftilities for the
pur-
pofe of renewing them with greater vigour, than
any permanent reconciliation. May the preſent
commercial intercourfe lead to better hopes, and
may the only conteft for the future be, who fhall
excel moft in the arts of peace and the purfuits
of literature !
E
EPISTLE


{74
EPISTLE TO A FRIEND ON HIS
.
EPISTLE TO A FRIEND,
ON HIS RETURN FROM THE ARMY.
A¹
T length, war's bloody, banners furl'd,
Peace fpreads her influence o'er the world;
Great George his laurel crown refigns,
And round his brow the olive twines;
You from the martial field retreat,
To feek your old paternal feat,
And, after five years abfence, come
Loaded with debts and glory home.
Of tender parents favorite fon,
Behold their happineſs begun:
No more the Gazette's glorious tale
Now makes their anxious features pale,
Left on the verdant laurel's ftem
The cypreſs dark ſhould grow for them.
Joyful they hail the morning ray,
And hope expectant gilds the day;
For fure, they cry, ere clofe of light,
Our abfent fon will blefs our fight.
Till eve they watch with aching eyes,
And the next morn new hopes fupplies.
Kiman
And now the wifh'd-for hour draws near,
That drowns in tranfport every fear;
Bleft comfort of their waning lives,
Their fon, their much lov'd ſon, arrives!—
On either fide your bofoms glow,
And mutual tears of rapture flow;
I fee, I fee your generous breaſt
With filial love and joy poffefs'd:
I feel,


RETURN FROM THE ARMY.
75
I feel, my friend! that joy impart
Fire to my ſympathizing heart,
And bid my artleſs pen portray
The ſcenes that fancy's dreams diſplay.
While yet ftill night, in fable robe,
Broods o'er our quarter of the globe;
While flumber wraps each labouring breaft,
And care herſelf is footh'd to reſt,
Alone impatient of delay,
Your thoughts anticipate the day:
You rouſe at once from Morpheus' reign
The landlord and his menial train;
The drowſy oftler cries in vain,
" 'Tis dark, you cannot fee your hand:
Booted and ſpurr'd you ready ftand,
And mounting fwift your eager fteed,
Fearleſs through night and cold proceed.
Soon as Aurora's ruddy ray
}
Beams forth to chear you on your way,
I fee you fweep, with loofen'd rein,
O'er hill and dale, thro' wood and plain;
Now gallop down the fteep, and now,
Climbing the mountain's loftieft brow,
Bend o'er the landſcape wide your eye,
Anxious your fire's abode to fpy:
The fleeting ſpot eludes your view,
And feems to fly as you purſue.-
Faint on the horizon's fartheft mound,
What hill is that with pine trees crown'd?
The well-known landmark ſtrikes your fight;
Your bofom fwells with fond delight;
Fancy


76
EPISTLE TO A FRIEND ON HIS
Fancy vain hope no longer yields:
"Ye much-lov'd thades! ye blooming fields!
"My eager ſteps," you cry," once more"
"Your green receſſes ſhall explore."
And now, as with redoubled fpeed
Forward you urge your bounding fteed,
You fee the well-known fpire arife,
And point its fummit to the ſkies;
And now, each envious barrier paft,
With heart-felt blifs you view at laſt
The turrets of the Gothic dome,
Your parents' venerable home.
Here memory's fond powers difpenfe
Their influence o'er each raptur'd fenfe.
'Twas here, to pay a mother's care,
You firft imbib'd the vital air;
Here each paternal art exprefs'd,
To foothe and charm your infant breaſt,
Taught you in opening youth to prove
The blifs fincere of filial love.
Think how your parents' bofoms burn
To welcome your long-wifh'd return;
Torn from their arms by glory's power,
How have they told each tedious hour!
Already to your eyes appear
The faultering voice, the joyful tear.
Belide the road the peaſants throng
To fee you ſwiftly paſs along;
And bowing as you gallop by,
" 'Tis the young Captain, fure," they cry:
On you their greetings are all loft,
Forward with eager zeal you poft;
3
To-morrow


RETURN FROM THE ARMY.-
77
To-morrow you'll return each bow,
But warmer duties call you now.
Arriv'd, at length, you touch once more
Your father's hofpitable door.
The cheerful family furround
The hearth with crackling faggots crown'd;
Some friends partake the genial ray,
Nor is the parish prieſt away.
Of taxes, hay, and war, they chat,
Of news and weather, this and that;
Of the young foldier too they fpoke,
When a loud knock the converſe broke.
Aftonish'd by a found fo loud,
Around the window quick they crowd.
When ſcreams of joy their blifs declare,
"'Tis he, 'tis Belville come, I fwear!"
Your parents, fifters, round you throng,
And tranfport looſens every tongue:
Your fire exclaims, "Five years are paft
"Since I beheld my Belville laſt:
"Your country call'd you to the field,
"And I no more her fword could wield; :
"Well haft thou fill'd thy father's place,
"Brave fcyon of a warlike race:
"Nor fhall my arms your fteps detain,
"If fame and Britain call again."
O'er the brave vet'ran's furrow'd cheek
The beams of martial ardor break ;.
And from the eye where courage glows,
The tear of fond affection flows.
With filent joy your mother ſtands,
And grafps with trembling bliſs your hands:
E 3
Her
1


78
EPISTLE TO A FRIEND, &c.
Her prefent hopes, her future fears,
Call forth alternate fmiles and tears;
And in her face thofe thoughts are ſhewn,
Which anxious mothers feel alone.
Your fifters, too, the tranſport ſhare,
And, with foft friendship's mildeſt air,
Demand if still your bofom prove
The fondneſs of fraternal love.
"How tedious pafs'd," they cry, "the day,
"When our lov'd brother was 'away:
"You promis'd you would often write;
"But the old proverb-Out of fight"-
Now ardent friendſhip's kindling joy,
And filial love, your thoughts employ;
And all the feelings of your breaſt
Are on your blooming cheek exprefs'd:
A thoufand queftions, fondly made,
By fond careffes are delay'd;
Tranfport forbids your words to flow,
Nor can you anſwer yes, or no.
And fee the ancient dame appears,
The fofterer of your infant years:
"Lord blefs me! how young mafter's grown!
"I fcarce fhould have the Captain known
"Elſewhere, unleſs I had been told:
"How well he looks in red and gold!
-
"Thank Heaven he has neither maim or wound,
"But comes again quite ſafe and found:
"For war's at beft a dangerous choice;
"Good Sirs! how Madam muft rejoice!"
What focial blifs! what charming ties!
From parents, country, friends, ariſe.
May


THE LITTLE QUEEN.
79
May they who fcorn their rights to know,
Ne'er feel the tranfports they beftow!
And far from me and thoſe I love,
That ftubborn breaft, kind Heaven, remove,
Who meets unmov'd a mother's face,
Who tearleſs feels a friend's embrace;
Nor fmiles to fee thofe fcenes rever'd,
Which infant paftimes have endear'd.
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
THE
HERE reigned once upon a time, in a dif-
tant ifland, a good Prince, who was paffi-
onately beloved by all his fubjects. It could not
happen otherwife, for he was their common fà-
ther. He provided for all their reafonable wants,
he rewarded thofe who deferved well of their
country, and he let none of the wicked, nor
even of the idle, efcape without puniſhment.
This amiable Monarch had but one cauſe of
anxiety; Myra, his only child, by no means re-
quited the attention which had been given to
her education. At twelve years of age fhe was
ſhamefully ignorant. Her thoughtleſſneſs made
her forget every leffon which fhe had been
taught, and her prefumption kept pace with her
want of knowledge of confequence, as the
thought herself perfectly accompliſhed, ſhe de-
fpifed all inftruction. One day the was indulging
E 4
her
1


80
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
her abfurd vanity by hinting, that were the to
govern the ifland, things would be better ma-
naged than they were now. The King, having
been informed of his daughter's fentiments, fent
for her immediately. On her coming, he told
her, without the leaft difcompofure, "That as
fhe was deftined to reign, one day or other,
"over his kingdoms, he fhould wish to know
"how far her talents were proper for fo impor-
16.
tant a charge. We may, if you pleaſe,” add-
ed this good Prince, "make the experiment
"without any delay. Careleſs as you always were
about the leffons which have been given you
"in geography, you cannot but know that The
"Fortunate Iſland makes a part of my domi-
"nions; it is a fmall, but well inhabited dif-
"trict; its people are active, induftrious, good
"tempered, and thoroughly attached to their
Sovereigns. Go, child! reign over them, I
"fhall order a yacht to be inftantly fitted up to
"convey you to your capital." Then making
a moſt profound reverence to the little Sovereign,
"Adieu, madam," faid he, with difficulty con-
cealing a ſmile.
66
Myra, for fome time, thought that the King
meant only to divert himfelf, but foon found
her miſtake, and that every thing was preparing
for her voyage. She was even permitted to
form a court to her own mind, and accordingly
The


THE LITTLE QUEEN.
ſhe picked out a dozen of her playfellows to ac-
company her. "Thefe young people," ſaid ſhe
to her father, "are fo very rational and fedate,
"that there can be no need of their being at-
"tended by governeffes or tutors." The King,
however, thought otherwife, and ordered the
teachers to embark with their pupils. The young
Sovereign, on her part, took care there fhould
be abundance of muſicians for her balls, and
that a company of players fhould be provided
for the amuſement of herſelf and her court. On
the morn of her departure, fhe took an affec-
tionate leave of her father, but the few tears
which ſhe ſhed were foon dried up by the con-
fideration of her being going to a place where
ſhe ſhould do" juft what ſhe pleaſed." "The
“only advice that I fhall give you," ſaid the
King at parting, " is, that you would follow the
“advice of Ariſtus (the Governor of the iſland
"over which you are to reign) in every thing of
importance. He is a man for whom I have a
"high eſteem, and with reafon, as he is difcreet,
66
•
honeft, and humane. I could wish that you
"would make him your firſt Miniſter; I mean,
"that you ſhould confult him in every thing, and
“entruſt him with the execution of all your or-
"ders."
This direction no way fuited the taſte of our
young Queen, who wished to have given that
important charge to one of her favourites, Phi-
E 5
lintus,


82
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
lintus, a tall, genteel lad, not, indeed, many
years older than herſelf, but one who, to tole-
rable ſkill in dancing and finging, added the very
agreeable talent of elegant flattery. He was
himſelf as averfe to ftudy, and of confequence as
ignorant as his royal miſtreſs; but he had know-
ledge enough of his own intereſt to excite him
never to omit affuring her that every one looked
on her as a model of a perfect Princefs, although
he was confcious that, out of her hearing, ſhe
was univerfally blamed for being fo totally un-
like her excellent father, and for ſpending her
whole time in trifling amuſements.
As foon as the little Sovereign reached her
ifland, ſhe beheld with pleaſure troops of fhep-
herds and ſhepherdeffes, in elegant fancy dreffes
of rofe colour and white, who fung carols in
praiſe of their new Queen, ftrewed fweet-fcent-
ed flowers in her path, and preſented her with
odoriferous nofegays. Myra, charmed with this
ſpecimen of her fubjects gallantry, ordered mo-
ney to be diſtributed amongſt them; and, under
the conduct of Ariftus, repaired to a lovely,
though fmall palace, fitted up for her reception.
Fatigued with the voyage, the Queen and her
young court made hafte to their repofe; but her
Majefty forgot not to order, for the next day, a
comedy to be acted, followed by a ball and a
fplendid entertainment. On the next morn,
Myra


THE LITTLE 'QUEEN.
83
Myra and her court amufed themſelves by walk-
ing into the capital town, which lay not far from
the palace.
"Obferve," faid Ariftus to his So-
vereign, "the air of content which reigns in every
"face we meet." "That," faid Philintus, "we
"ſhould attribute to the prefence of our lovely
"Queen." Without doubt," replied Ariftus,.
"they are fenfible of that honour; but I ought
"to inform you, that their gaiety is chiefly ow-
ing to their being confcious of the excellent
government under which they live, and of the
"wifdom of thofe laws by which their King,
"whom they look upon as their father, governs
"the country.""Let us now," faid Myra,.
"extend our walks into the country." They
did fo. An orchard, in full bloom, now tempt--
ed her to take a nearer view of its beauty."-
What," faid fhe to Ariftus, "occafions the
"buzzing founds which I hear ?""The bees,"
replied he; "a uſeful tribe of your Majeſty's
fubjects." At that inftant, moſt unfortunately
one of thefe animals, not perfectly acquainted
with the reſpect due to royalty, and diſguſted at
the Queen's approaching too near to his hive,
fettled on her hand, and made her feel his fting!
C6
"Shocking creatures, thefe bees!" exclaimed
Myra; "one of them has half killed me!"
"The prefumptuous, ungrateful wretches ought,"
faid Philintus, "to be utterly extirpated."-
E 6
6. You
-66
દ
66


84
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
You are right," ſaid the Queen; "I will have
"them deſtroyed, not on my own account, but to
“preſerve my poor people from receiving fuch
66
cruel wounds, when they are purſuing their oc-
cupations in the country." " Permit me," faid
Ariftus, to obſerve, that theſe accidents hap-
pen but very feldom, and that the pain which
the bees occafion by their ftings, is trifling,
"when compared with the vaſt advantage which
"accrues from their labours; your fubjects, ma-
-“dam, will ſuffer feverely indeed, if they are de-
"prived of that uſeful creature."-Here he was
interrupted by Philintus, who, bursting with
laughter, cried out, "A pretty tale you tell us,
"Ariftus! why, fure you take us all for chil-
"dren! Suffer indeed! what! becauſe that nafty¨
infect is kept from ftinging them! Make us
believe that if you can."-" I will have every
"bee in my kingdom put to death," faid the
young Queen, with an air of dignity." Pof-
fibly," faid Ariftus, "your Majefty may fee
cauſe hereafter to repent of this hafty com-
"mand."-"Nevertheleſs," repeated Myra, "it
fhall be executed." Ariftus retired with a figh,
and Philintus loudly applauded the mingled hu-
manity and firmnefs of his infant Sovereign.
That evening the Queen entertained herſelf at
the play, and afterwards was prefent at a ball,
which,


THE LITTLE QUEIN.
85
which, with a magnificent ſupper, laſted until
two in the morning.
Unluckily, among the ladies of the bedcham-
ber were two, who, not having reached their
eleventh year, had been uſed to eat little or no
fuppers, to take moderate exerciſe, and to go to
bed early. But the royal banquet had been fo
tempting, the ball fo charming, and the whole
fo perfectly new to them, that they had deſpiſed
the admonitions of their governeffes, who had
very naturally remonftrated againſt their launch-
ing at once into this new ſyſtem. In confe-
quence, they were both extremely ill the next
morning. The phyſician attended, and ordered
proper medicines, which they refuſed to take.
"They were permitted by the Queen," they
faid, "to do what they liked beft, and they
“hated naſty phyfic." Their complaints, how-
ever, increaſed; they could neither eat, drink,
or fleep, and one of the two felt the attack of a
fever. On this the governeffes were obliged to
have recourſe to the royal authority, and the
Queen having commanded the young ladies to
fubmit to diſcipline, they took what was order-
ed, and all went right again.
One day that the young Queen was walking
in the garden of her palace, fhe was difgufted
at the devaftation which had been made by ca-
"What
terpillars on the leaves of the trees.
* vile


863
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
vile creatures are thefe ?" faid the to Philin-
tus: "Did you ever fee fuch a piece of work:
"as they have made here ?"-"I think," re-
plied the courtier, " that it would be a good deed
"to root them out of the iſland, and to proclaim
"rewards for thofe who would undertake to de-
"ftroy them."-"What fay you to that, Arif-
"tus," faid Myra, "can my ſubjects exiſt with-
66
out caterpillars ?"" Your Majefty," replied
Ariftus, "has not forgot the bees, I find, but
"here the cafe is widely different. The cater-
"pillars which have ftripped thoſe trees do much
mifchief, and are of no one ufe to fociety."
"I am heartily glad," faid the Queen," that
"we coincide in opinion, for I am determined
"to have all the caterpillars in my dominions.
deftroyed; I hate them, nafty creatures !"-
"Your Majefty," faid Ariftus, "certainly means
"to except from this general maffacre that kind
"of caterpillar which produces the filk worm."
"Do but hear him," faid Philintus, in the
Queen's ear, "that fellow makes a point of con-
tradicting your Majefty in every thing.'
"Let every caterpillar in my realm be put to.
"death," exclaimed the piqued Sovereign.
29
"I am tired to death," faid Myra one day,
"of this eternal verdure. Theſe walks of turf,.
"and thefe clumps of laurel, though I like
them well enough on the whole, yet being re-
"peated
66
66
पे
I


THE LITTLE QUEEN.
87
"peated fo often, they fatigue my eyes;-
green, and green, and nothing but green-
Why can I not have a rofe-colour bower?"
Philintus now turned all his thoughts towards
the accompliſhment of his Sovereign's rational
with. He had obferved in a diftant part of the
garden an arbour where a honeysuckle over-
fpread the green frame work. He ordered the
leaves to be ſtripped off, the wood to be painted
rofe colour, and he covered the whole with arti-
ficial roſes hanging by crimson ribbands. The
Queen was enchanted with this gaudy retreat,
and as foon as fhe faw it, ordered her dinner to
be fet out upon that very fpot. The fun fhone
out with great power, and ſcarce had the com-
pany fate ten minutes at their meal, before
fome complained of aching heads, fome of daz-
zled eyes; all loft their appetites, and the whole
was a confufion of heat and glare. Ariſtus ad-
viſed the whole party to abandon the flaring
ſcene, and to refreſh their eyes by gazing on the
turf in ſome ſhady place. They did fo, and all
went well again. In confequence, it was fettled
by her Majefty in council, that, during the fum-
mer, it were better for the leaves of trees to be
green than to be rofe colour.
66
66
1
Myra was fo enchanted with the pleaſures of
her palace, that ſhe gave herſelf little trouble as
to what paffed in the iſland at large. Her whole
time


88
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
time was employed in ſchemes for increaſing and
varying her amufements: fometimes, indeed, fhe
walked into the country, but her preſence no
longer appeared to give any pleaſure to her fub-
jects,—there were no more fongs in her praiſe-
no more cries of "Long live our Queen !".
"What," faid Myra, "can occafion this ſtrange
"alteration in the behaviour of my people?
"Are they diſpleaſed with any part of my go-
"vernment?"" If," faid Philintus, "they are
"out of humour with ſuch an amiable Sovereign,
"they do not deſerve the honour of her enqui-
"ries." This anſwer was not entirely fatisfac-
tory to the Queen; fhe was, even for fome time,
buried in thought; but the efforts of Philintus,
(who had obferved the gloom on her counte-
nance) and the gay turn of his converfation, to-
gether with the novelty of an entertainment
which he propoſed for the next evening, drove
away all ferious thoughts, and ſprightlineſs re-
fumed its reign again. The plan was, that all
the court ſhould appear in paſtoral dreffes, and
that the company fhould dance on one of thoſe
elegant lawns with which the palace garden
abounded. Myra approved of this plan, only
defiring that the habits might be as elegant as
the plan would allow. "They can only be made
of linen, madam," faid one of the bedcham-
"ber-women. "How fo?" faid the Queen.
"There


THE LITTLE QUEEN.
89
"There is not, in your Majefty's dominions,
"filk enough for one drefs."
"You muſt be miſtaken. On my taking the
"government into my hands, I obferved ſhops
"without end, well furniſhed with filk."
+
"It is true, Madam, there were fuch; but
they are now all ſhut up, and the owners have
" left the iſland."
46
"And why fo, pray?"
"Since your Majefty's orders for the deftruc-
❝tion of all caterpillars, the filk manufacture is
entirely ſtopped."
"Aye! why, what have thoſe naſty vermin
"to do with the manufacture of filk?"
66
"There is one fpecies of thofe caterpillars
"which produces the materials, without which
"filk cannot be made; and as the fellers of
"filk in 'towns are in general connected, by
marriage or relationſhip, with the breeders of
filk-worms, they have determined all toge-
ther to quit a country where they are depriv
"ed of the means of fubfifting."
46
That very evening the Queen obferved with
a furpriſe, which almoſt equalled horror, that
the apartments of the palace were lighted with
tallow candles. "Heavens !" exclaimed the af-
fronted Sovereign, "what means this filthy
"'fight?" She was told that there were no
waxen tapers to be found in the ifle. ""Tis
3
"impoffible!


90
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
impoffible!" fhe cried; "let Ariftus be fent
for." He appeared. "Have you not told
"me, Sir, that my inland abounded with wax ?"
"Madam, it did fo, when I gave you that infor-
"mation." "And how happens it that it is
"not fo now?" "Becauſe fince your Majefty
"ordered the bees to be extirpated, no more
"wax is to be found." Philintus fneered at
this reply, and Myra aſked with aſtoniſhment,
"What was the connection between bees and
66
"tapers ?" "Without them," faid Ariftus,
"the tapers can not exiſt, ſince the bees fupply
"the materials of which the tapers are com-
<6 pofed." And what is become of thoſe who
"ufed to get their living by making thoſe ta-
"pers?""Poor fouls !" replied Ariftus, "they
are on the point of quitting a place, where
they cannot earn their bread. Alas" added
he, "were your Majefty to make, at this time,
"the tour of your dominions, you would find
"the face of the whole country deplorably
"altered." Philintus would have turned this
account into ridicule, but Myra, by a look,
ftopped his buffoonery, and retired to her
chamber with a heavy heart.
The next morning the took Ariftus with her,
and drove into the environs of her capital.
"You were too much in the right," faid the,
"when you bad me expect a deplorable altera-
❝tion
46
<<


THE LITTLE QUEEN.
91
“tion among my people. I hear no more ac-
"clamations! no more fongs! but I fee the
painfulleft of fights; crowds of people in rags,
begging their bread," Formerly," faid
Ariftus, "no beggars were to be found here;
"there was a large building erected for the poor,
"where the old where maintained, the fick
"cured, and all the young folks fet to work; but
"fince your Majefty has allowed twelve to be
"the age of difcretion, many of thefe children
"have refuſed to be employed, and chufing to
"wander about the country, without knowing
"how to get their bread, they are of courfe re-
"duced to rags and mifery."
The Queen, having given fome relief to thefe
wretched objects, proceeded to aſk Ariftus, what
was become of the crowds of bufy people who
were uſed to throng in the ſtreets of the capital?
"for," faid the," half the houfes feem to be
"fhut up, and the whole town appears defert-
"ed, in compariſon of its ſtate when I firſt ſaw
"it." The miniſter told her, "that there was
<<
66
66
66
a mutual dependance of one trade upon ano-
"ther, and that, in confequence of the depar-
"ture of the filk and wax merchants and manu-
"facturers, thofe who were uſed to ſupply that
large body of men with cloaths, fhoes and
"ftockings, provifions, and every other accom-
❝modation, having now no market for their
goods,
66


92
THE LITTLE QUEEN.
"goods, had fhut up their fhops, and were pre-
"paring, one and all, for their departure." He
added, "that it was much to be feared, that
"the farmers, who uſed to bring to the town
corn, hay, butter, eggs, poultry, &c. together
"with their families, labourers, &c. would foon
"follow this example."
86
66
Struck with this painful detail, the young
Queen, whofe goodneſs of heart was equal to
the thoughtleffnefs of her head, exclaimed in an
agony of diftrefs, "Oh heavens why did I
"leave my father's court? why take upon me
a taſk of which I was fo incapable? I ſuffer
feverely for my prefumption, but at leaſt I
"will do no more miſchief here." Then turn-
ing to Ariftus, fhe begged him to haften the
preparations for her return to the kingdom of
her father. Her orders were inftantly obeyed,
and fhe, with her whole court, took leave of the
Fortunate Ifland, and foon reached the port they
wifhed for. As foon as Myra faw the King, the
threw herſelf at his feet, bathed in tears. "How
is this," faid he, "my daughter, are you re-
"turned already? are you fo foon weary of
fovereign power?" "Alas! Sire!" replied
the weeping Myra, "never was any being more
"wretched than your daughter! I have child-
"ifhly thrown away my own happineſs, and
"that of thoſe whom you entruſted to my care.
"The
66
66


THE LITTLE QUEEN.
૭૩
"The ifland which I have governed, no longer
"deferves the name of Fortunate. I have, by
"my own mifmanagement, reduced an induftri-
"ous people to beggary and ruin! but I con-
“jure you, Sire, to order all my jewels to be in-
ftantly fold, that I may, by their means, in
"fome fort relieve the miferies which my in-
"fantine folly has brought upon them.” « Make
"yourſelf eafy," faid the good King, foothing
his afflicted daughter, "the miſchiefs which
"your want of confideration has caufed, are by
64 no means irreparable. I forefaw that you
"would make great miſtakes in government,
and managed affairs fo as to prevent thofe
"miſtakes from having any very bad confe-
"quences. Thofe of your fubjects, who have
by your errors been forced to quite your isle,
"have, by the direction of Ariftus, found a
"comfortable retreat in this kingdom, have
"been fupplied with all neceffaries, and will
now return to their own country, with
proper
materials, to re-affume their feveral trades
"and occupations. You have, m beloved
Myra, an excellent heart, and in all the mif-
chief which you have done, you have had the
"best intention in the world. This ought to
"teach you that princes ought not to trust to
their good difpofitions alone, but that they'
** ſhould take counfel with the moſt intelligent
" of
J
:
3J
1


94
THE ELEPHANT.
"of their fubjects, concerning the meaſures of
"their government, and above all, that they
"ſhould guard againſt forming too high an opi-
"nion of their own wifdom. The errors of
private perfons can only affect a ſmall number
"of individuals, but thofe of fovereigns may
"ruin nations."
66
Myra profited by this leffon, and by her own
experience. She dedicated, for the future, a
confiderable part of her time to ſtudy, and for-
bad Philintus ever to appear in her preſence
again.
X.
THE ELEPHANT.
NEXT
TEXT to man, the Elephant is the moſt re-
fpectable of the Almighty's creatures. In
fize he exceeds all other terreftrial animals; and
by his underſtanding he approaches nearly to the
human fpecies. His temper is naturally gentle.
Even while wild in the forefts he thirfts not after
blood, nor does he uſe his vaft ftrength, except
in defending himſelf or protecting his compa-
nions. His favourite food is rice, roots, and
herbs; he abhors fiſh and fleſh. When he finds
a plentiful paſture, he makes uſe of a particular
cry, which gives notice to his comrades to come
and partake of the dainties which he has found.
An


THE ELEPHANT.
95
#
An invitation which they readily obey, to the
great lofs of the owner of the land.-The Ele-
phant is caught and tamed without difficulty. His
love of fociety renders him eaſy to be allured into
a fnare by' others of his own fpecies, who have
been educated for that purpoſe. Two of thefe,
after he is in confinement, conſtantly attend all
his motions, and, when he is not difpofed to
ſubmit, compel him by ftriking him with their
trunks to obedience. Very foon, however, his
own aftoniſhing judgment convinces him that
no harm is meant to him, and that his efforts
towards refiftance are all in vain. In confe-
quence of this he applies himſelf to learn his
duty, and becomes the mildeſt and moſt obe-
dient of all domeftic animals. He foon learns
to comprehend figns. He diftinguiſhes the tone
of command, of anger, and of approbation.
He never miſtakes the voice of his mafter, re-
ceives his orders with attention, and executes
them with prudence and eagernefs, but without
precipitation. He feems to take pleaſure in be-
ing covered with gilded harneſs and gay hou-
fings. He draws carriages, waggons, artillery,
&c. with evennefs and good humour, provided he
be not treated ill, undefervedly, and that the
people who are employed with him have the
air of being pleaſed with his behaviour. His
conductor (ftyled his Cornac) generally rides on
the


96
THE ELEPHANT.
the Elephant's neck, and carries in his hand a
fharp iron, with which, when neceffary, he pricks
the creature's head or ears, to make him move
fafter; but this is feldom put in practice, fince
words are always fufficient, provided that the
Cornac has had time to acquire the Elephant's
confidence; after which the beaft's attachment
and affection become ſo ſtrong, that one is ac-
tually recorded to have died of grief, becauſe in
a fit of paffion he had killed his keeper.
Before the invention of gunpowder, Elephants
were uſed in war, and have often by their ef-
forts decided the fate of battles. On their
backs they carried fmall towers which held five
or fix armed men; and from their trunks hung
heavy chains, which they were taught to ſwing
around them in order to break the ranks of the
enemy's army. But now that fire is the chief
inftrument of death in battles, the Elephant, as
he is fubject to dread both the noife and the
flame of fire-arms, would be dangerous to his
own party. He is ftill employed by Europeans
in the east for the purpoſe of tranſporting the
baggage of their troops, and by the Indian
princes, for carrying their women in large cages
covered with green branches of trees.
Elephants are more numerous in Africa than
in Afia, the only two parts of the world where
they are, naturally, found. In Africa they live
uncontrouled,


THE ELEPHANT.
ancontrouled, for they defpife the negroes as a
ſet of unſkilful, weak beings, who have neither
ftrength nor art enough to reduce them to fla-
very. Thoſe of the Afiatic iſland, Ceylon, are
looked upon as the largeft, boldeft, and moſt in-
telligent of the whole fpecies.
The Elephant is ftrong in proportion to his
vaft bulk. He can with eafe carry from three
to four thouſand weight; and on his tuſks alone®
he can fupport upwards of one thouſand pounds.
The quickneſs of his paces, when the immenſe
weight of his body is confidered, is a proof of
his amazing ſtrength. His ufual walk equals
the common trot of a horfe; and he can run as
faft as a horſe can gallop. He is generally per-
mitted to walk when loaded, and can with eaſe
perform fifty miles in a day, but, when puſhed,
can go almoft twice as far. He will do as much
work as fix ftrong horfes, but his price is im-
menfe, and the charge of maintaining him very
great indeed. An Elephant who has been pro-
perly diſciplined is worth from four to twelve
hundred guineas; and he will eat in a day above
a hundred pounds of rice, befides vegetables.
In India all barrels, facks, and bales of goods
are carried from place to place by Elephants,
and if their necks and trunks have no more
room for burthens, they will carry an additional
weight in their mouth. The Elephant unites fa-
gacity
F
P


98
THE ELEPHANT:
gacity with ſtrength, and never injures any thing
committed to his charge, be it ever ſo delicate.
He will carry each particular parcel to a boat in
his trunk without wetting it; he will range each
in order, will try whether each lies firm, and
will actually place ftones where neceffary to
prevent cafks from rolling from their proper fta-
tions.
The trunk (or probofcis) of this wonderful
animal ought to be particularly deſcribed. It
extends itſelf confiderably beyond his mouth,
and is terminated by a protuberance which per-
´forms all the offices of, and is by no means un-
like to, a finger; with this he can lift the fmall-
eft piece of money from the ground; he can
untie knots; he can turn keys, puſh back bolts,
or loofen ftraps from buckles; and with this he
can gratify his fenfe of fmelling (which there is
reaſon to believe to be very exquifite) by ga-
thering flowers, and conveying them to his nofe,
which, as well as his finger, compoſes a part of
his trunk. The orange tree, in whofe flowers
he delights, both for their tafte and fmell, is an
object of his moſt eager purſuit.
The Elephant, when old, fuffers great incon-
venience from the increaſing fize of his large
teeth or turks; to remedy this evil, his natural
fagacity prompts him to make two holes in a
tree, if wild, or if tamed, in a wall, to ſupport
them,


THE ELEPHANT.
59
them, and prevent the vaft fatigue which his
neck endures from their weight. As great part
of his fkin is tender and delicate, he fuffers
much from the bites and ftings of flies. To pre-
vent this inconvenience, he puts in practice all
the means which his peculiar good ſenſe fug-
gefts: if he cannot keep the inſects away by
brushing them off with branches of trees and
whiſps of ftraw, he then wets all the moft ex-
pofed parts of his body, and gathering duft with
his trunk, ſpreads it carefully over each unguard-
ed place.
The height of the creature in his natural ftate
is generally between ten and fourteen feet; but
in captivity his growth is confiderably checked.
He is nice in many particulars, abhors bad
fmells, and, probably on that account, dreads
the fight or even the cry of a hog. In eating,
let him be ever fo hungry, he will faſt until he
has nicely examined his victuals, and ſeparated
from them every particle of dirt, duft, or other
uncleanlineſs.
Both antient and modern writers dwell with
peculiar pleaſure on the innumerable inftances
of inftinct, or rather fomewhat which ap-
proaches very nearly to reaſon, in this noble
animal; but of theſe we ſhall felect a few of the
beſt attefted.
An Elephant had been provoked by ill ufage
F 2
to


100
THE ELEPHANT.
i
1
to kill his conductor.-The widow, who had
been a witneſs to the horrid fcene, rufhed with
her two infant children to the enraged animal.
-"Here," faid fhe, "fince you have flain my
"huſband, take my life too, and complete your
bloody bufinefs by deftroying theſe poor
"babes!" The beaſt, apparently hurt at his
own excess of paffion, loft at once his refent-
ment, and taking the eldeſt of the children in
his trunk, adopted him, as it were for his go-
vernor, and would never fuffer any other perfon
to mount his neck.
86
If the Elephant is revengeful when ill treated,
he is truly grateful to thoſe who uſe him kindly.
A foldier in the Eaft Indies had been accuftom-
ed, when he received his pay, to treat one of
thefe fenfible animals with arrack; one day,
having himſelf partaken too largely of the fame
liquor, he escaped from a detachment who had
been ordered to convey him to priſon, and tak-
ing fhelter beneath the creature whom he had
obliged, he fell faſt aſleep. His purfuers find-
ing that the Elephant had taken him under his
protection, left him, and he, when he awoke,
fober, and frightened at his fituation, was con-
foled by the careffes of the good-natured animal,
who feemed fenfible of the terrors which his
benefactor felt, and willing to remove them.
An Elephant, in a battle fought not many years
ago, having been driven to diftraction by the
p ain


THE ELEPHANT.
101
pain of his wounds, ran about the field making
the moſt hideous cries. A wounded foldier of
his own party lay juft in his way, and naturally
expected inſtant deftruction. But the poor tor-
tured animal, confcious that he owed none of
his pain to the foldier, took him tenderly up
with his trunk, and, having placed him out of
the common path, continued his route. This
anecdote points out the fpecies of excellent rea-
foning in the Elephant, which prevents him
from being provoked, even by the moſt acute
pain, to hurt fuch as have not injured him: but
he must not be wantonly infulted; and even the
moft trifling affront may expofe the giver to a
fatal recompence. An Elephant which was
kept at Verfailles* not many years paſt, ap-
peared to know when he was mocked by any
perfon, and ſeldom failed to revenge the infult.
A man deceived him, by pretending to throw
eatables into his mouth. The animal took this
opportunity to knock him down with his trunk,
and treated him fo feverely, that he ſcarcely ef-
caped with life. Another time a painter, in or-
der to draw him with his trunk elevated, em-
ployed his fervant to throw, or pretend to throw,
fruit into the Elephant's mouth; the deceitful
1
* A palace about ten miles from Paris, where the King
of France has a collection of curious beafts, birds, &c. &c.
F 3-
part


102
THE ELEPHANT.
part of this order was reſented by the creature
with fuch excellent fagacity, that instead of re-
venging himſelf on the fervant, (who appears to
have been within his reach) he fquirted fuch a
quantity of water from his trunk at the maſter,
(whom he judicioufly difcerned to be the con-
triver of his morțification) that it utterly ruined
the paper on which his work was going forward.
It is recorded, and univerfally credited, of an
Elephant, that as he was paffing along a ſtreet
in the city of Delhi, he thruft his trunk in at
the window of a room where a taylor fate, em-
ployed on a rich habit.-This man, diſpleaſed
at being interrupted in his work, caufed the ani-
mal to withdraw in great hafte, by pricking him
with a needle; provoked at this treatment, the
Elephant, who knew that he ſhould paſs by the
fame ſtreet again the next day, it being the
ufual road to his watering place, took care to be
prepared for his enemy, by laying in a ſtore of
dirty water; this he emptied from his trunk at
the fame window, and completed his revenge,
by thoroughly fpoiling the filk on which the
taylor was at work.
Accounts hardly credible, although perfectly
well attefted, are told of the Elephant's fenfibi-
lity to reproach. One in particular, having
been upbraided by his keeper, as a poor indo-
lent creature, for having failed in an effort to fet
afloat


THE ELEPHANT.
103
1-
afloat a veffel which lay afhore, an attempt
which was really beyond his ftrength, was fo
much hurt by the charge, that he made a new
trial, fucceeded in it, but fell inftantly dead,
from the damage which he had received in con-
fequence of the exertion.
F It has been faid before, that mild as the Ele-
phant naturally is, he is not to be trifled with.
One of theſe animals having, with great faga-
city, carried the iron veffel in which he uſually
drank, to the fmith's fhop where it uſed to be
repaired, the workman mended it but by halves;
the Elephant carried it back, and was feverely
reproached by his mafter, who made him com-
prehend, by fhewing him how the water ran out
of the veffel, that it needed a farther repair. The
animal, as much hurt as if he had been account-
able for the workman's neglect, fnatching the
veffel out of the owner's hand, half full of water
as it was, carried it in hafte to the ſhop, and as
foon as the perfon who had done his work fo ill
appeared, the Elephant diſcharged the water in
his face, as a puniſhment for his miſbehaviour.
Hitherto, M. Buffon has fupplied what has
been faid of the Elephant; what follows, is
chiefly taken from Sparman's account of the
Cape of Good Hope.
A female Elephant loft her young one. It
feems that it had fallen into the hands of a party
F 4
of


304
THE ELEPHANT.
of the native Hottentots, who had killed and de-
youred it. The mother, the next night, having
fome how (probably by the fcent) diſcovered
the place of its death, attacked the kraal or vil-
lage in the dark, and utterly deſtroyed it, by
beating down all the huts, and trampling all the
plantations to picces. And here it may be pro-
perly remarked, that the Hottentots eagerly
feck the fleſh of the Elephant to eat it, which is
not the cafe with any other African or Afiatic
people, that we read of.
In the country round the Cape, the Elephant
is purfued, not to be tamed, but to be flain for
the fake of the ivory which his teeth afford. In
this chace the danger to the hunter is great; but
the hopes of a large profit (fometimes as much
as 300 gilders, or about twenty-fix pounds, by a
fingle Elephant) make him cloſe his eyes to all
perils. He muft be very attentive to approach
the animal on the fide whence the wind blows;
for, fhould he be difcerned by his piercing ſcent,
the Elephant ruſhes on him, nor can any thing
fave him, except a fteep hill or wood, either of
which circumſtances encumber the beaſt, and
fave the ſportſman. The bullet which is def-
tined to deſtroy this immenfe creature, muſt be
made of a proportionable mixture of tin and
lead; the piece from whence it is diſcharged, is
generally one of thofe mufquets which were in
ufe


THE THREE SISTERS.
105
ufe about one hundred and eighty years ago, fo
ftrong and heavy, as to require a reſt to ſupport
it when levelled. And yet, when theſe enor-
mous pieces are deeply loaded, and fupplied'
with proper balls, an Elephant has been known'
to receive eight wounds in his body before he
was deprived of life..
•
THE THREE SISTERS.
No
OT many years ago, there returned from
Bengal a man whom we will call John
Sterling: he had been well educated, was fprung
from a decent family, and brought home the
fame good heart which he carried out with him
from Britain. As his fortune was now very large,
and he had formed no matrimonial connections,
his first care, on his arriving in his native land,
was to diſcover what relations he had ftill re-
maining, and to enquire into their circumſtances,.
in order to bestow on the moft deferving of
them part of his great acquifitions. It chance
that the perfon to whom he applied was able to
affift in his fearch. "Some, at leaft," faid he,
"of your family I can give you a pretty good
"account of: you have two coufins fettled in.
"London; they are fifters, and are by no means
"in diftreffed circumftances, but are perfect:
" contrafts
F 5


106
1 THE THREE SISTERS.
"contrafts to each other in their manner of liv
❝ing. The eldest of them is avaricious to an
"extreme, lives in a paltry lodging, keeps but one
maid fervant, and, in fhort, feems to have no
“pleaſure on earth, except that of heaping up
money. Not fo her younger fifter; fhe takes
"care to ſpend to the very extremity of her in-
income. She takes great delight in dreſs,
"equipage, and every ſpecies of luxury, but her
"expences of the fhowy kind never prevent the
"exertions of her humanity: there paffes no
week in which the does not diftribute, on an
"appointed day, money, cloaths, and victuals,
"to a number of beggars, who crowd around
"her door to be relieved.". "This laſt coufin
" of mine," ſaid our Indian, "I like well enough,
"by your account; but as to the other, not a
"penny of mine fhall fhe have, to add to her
heaps, an old avaricious fkin-flint !"
... With theſe ſentiments, John Sterling fet out:
to vifit his youngeſt relation. From her he met
with a polite and hofpitable reception, and de-,
parted from her houſe in a perfect good humour
with her and her manner of living.
It happened that the only maid fervant who
lived with the elder fifter, was acquainted in the
family of the perfon from whom Sterling had
received his intelligence concerning the charac→
ters of the two fifters. Some of the domeftics
had
66
*


THE THREE SISTERS..
107
had overheard the converfation, and took the firſt
opportunity to reproach the girl for the parfi
mony of her miftrefs, which they told her had
loft her the ſharing of a fine fum of money. This
foon reached the ears of the female mifer, whoſe
vexation, at hearing what fhe had miffed, was
almoſt inſupportable. The large fortune, which
by dint of the moſt penurious œconomy ſhe had
fcraped together, now appeared to her leſs than
nothing, when the confidered the immenſe trea
fures of her coufin, all of which he thought.
might have been her own, had ſhe but managed
fo as to gain the good graces of the owner.
Perhaps," faid fhe to herſelf, "it may not,.
" even now, be too late to retrieve my error..
"Some of my money I muſt facrifice, it is true,
" but then if I fucceed, I fhall be nobly reim-
"burfed. It will go to my heart, indeed, to
.66 part with what has been the whole joy of my
life to procure, but I fee no. other chance in:
"my favour, and this fcheme must be tried."
Having taken her refolution, fhe determined, as
the firſt ſtep, to contrive to fall into company
with her opulent relation. This fhe foon brought
about, by meeting him at her fifter's, where he
was almoſt always to be found. She now en-
deavoured, by every winning grace in her power-
to captivate his attention, and when the thought
the had in fome meaſure fucceeded, fhe took an
F 6
opportunity
"


108
THE THREE SISTERS.
opportunity to reproach him for appearing to
have forgotten that he had ſuch a relation as
: herſelf.
"No, Madam, faid the blunt Sterling,
"I had by no means forgotten you, but the plain
"truth is, that finding on enquiry, that your
* turn and mine were as widely different as light
"and darkneſs, I thought that no good could
arife from any connection between us."-
"I comprehend you, Sir," replied the lady,
"you have heard me reprefented in the moſt
"odious colours, as a pattern of meannefs and
avarice. How cruel is the tongue of defama-
tion! I have laid up money, it is true, but
"Heaven knows with what intent! The fervice
"of my indigent fellow-creatures has been my
real motive, and it was only to amafs a fum
fufficient to lay the foundation of a new hof-
pital, that I have deprived myſelf of not only
"the fuperfluities, but almoſt of the neceſſaries
of life. At length I have attained to my wiſh,
"and to-morrow I intend to depofit, in the hands
"of proper truſtees, five hundred guineas, which
"I mean to be laid out in the purchaſe of land
"for the edifice to ftand upon." The honeft
Indian was completely taken in by this ma-
nœuvre. "How unjustly," faid he to himſelf,
"have I thought of this poor woman! Here has
"the denied herſelf every gratification for the
"fake of the poor, and I have looked on her as
6.6 a felf-
66


THE THREE SISTERS.
109
7
"a felf-interefted mifer! Well, well, I must
"contrive to make her amends." Then turning
to the lady, "Madam," faid he, "hitherto I
"have miſtaken your character, but I now ho-
"nour you as much as a few hours paft I def-
pifed you. But you muft not prevent me from
fharing with you the merit of the noble work
" which you have taken in hand; to-morrow I
"will attend upon you, and will add my part to
“the donation which you are about to make."
He kept his word, and accompanied her the next
morning: he then faw her make a depoſit of the
fum which ſhe had mentioned, to which he
joined a much more confiderable preſent for the
fame charitable purpoſe.
4
The worthy Sterling was recounting the ad-
ventures of the day to his friend, and was telling
him how very unjustly he had thought of the
elder of his coufins, when he was told that an
old domeftic of the family earneſtly entreated to
ſpeak with him. "Perhaps," ſaid the good Eaſt-
Indian," he may need my affiftance; let him
"come in." The poor fellow entered.
"Can
❝I, my good friend, be of any ſervice to you?”
faid Sterling. "I am very unfortunate," faid
the ſuppliant," and it is only the report which I
"have heard of your goodnefs, that has tempted
"me to this application. I lived twenty years
in the ſervice of your worthy uncle: I mar
66
66
ried


110
THE THREE SISTERS.
"ried, and when. I loft my good mafter, I fet up
6
a little ſhop: when I was going on with tole-
"rable fuccefs, I was utterly ruined by an unfor-
"tunate fire, which confumed my whole ſtock.
"Since that cruel event, I have been unable to
provide for my young and numerous family,
" and I now prefume to hope that your good-
"nefs will enable me to put my poor children.
"into fome way of bufinefs."
"But why, in the name of wonder, did you
"not apply to my two coufins!"
"Alas, good
“Sir, I addreffed myſelf to them in the begin-
"ning of my misfortunes; but from the eldeſt I
"met with a pofitive refufal; and the other
"lady, though fhe offered me fome relief, yet
"the accompanied that offer with the condition
"of my coming publicly along with the other
poor, to receive charity at her door; and in-
deed, Sir, it appeared hard to one who had
been a reputable tradeſman, to be reduced to
"beg his bread at a door in a public ftreet. No,
“Sir, I rather choſe to get into a ſervice, which
"I fortunately contrived to do."
66
"
66
"And what, my good friend, became then of
your children?"
"My eldeſt daughter, Sir, has had the happi-
nefs of being protected by your Honour's cou-
"fin, Madam Sophia, who is goodneſs itſelf,
"and who, although in very narrow circum-
"ftances,


THE THREE SISTERS.
111-
"ſtances, yet finds opportunities of doing a
"thouſand good actions."
"How!" faid the good Sterling," and have
"I another coufin? And is the poor, and yet is
The charitable? And have I, like a blockhead
"as I am, been ignorant of her very exiſtence ?"
"There is fuch a one, I affure you, Sir; fhe
"is the daughter of your uncle, and the youngeſt
"of the three fifters."
"Is this poffible?" faid the Eaft-Indian, and
"if fo, how comes it about that neither of her
"fifters have mentioned her name to me?-
"Where has the lived? How came fhe fo poor?”
66
"The good lady, Sir, trufted her fortune in
"the hands of a merchant, who became a bank-
"rupt, and loft nearly the whole of it. She
"then retired, with what little fhe had remain-
"ing, to a village in the country, where the
"boarded at the houſe of a friend of her's, who
"married a clergyman. There, from her ſmall
"income, the found means to be of infinite fer-
"vice to her poor neighbours; fhe vifited the
fick, the inftructed the young, and, by her ex-
❝ample and advice, fhe reclaimed the idle, and
encouraged the worthy members of fociety.
"As to her name not being mentioned to you by
"her fifters, I fear their motive for keeping you.
-in ignorance concerning her, was their con-
"ſciouſneſs


112
THE THREE SISTERS.
"ſciouſneſs of her fuperior claim to your favour
"and protection."
66
"This," cried Sterling, "is the exact perfon
"that I am looking for. Come, my lad, get
"your boots ready, to-morrow you ſhall be my
'guide to the village where this precious coufin
"of mine refides; trouble yourſelf no more
"about your children; they fhall henceforward
"be my care and as to yourſelf, quit your fer-
❝vice as foon as you can with decency; you are,
"too old to wear a livery, I will provide for you
comfortably for the reſt of your life.”
"Oh, Sir," faid the old fervant, "be affured
"that what is left of that life fhall be employed
"in praying for bleffings on you, and on my
"kind benefactreſs, Madam Sophia.".
Sterling foon reached the village. He alighted
at the parfonage, and enquired of the minifter
concerning his amiable coufim.
"She is an an-
"gel," faid the prieft;"notwithſtanding the
lofs of her fortune, her countenance expreffes
"the happy tranquillity of her mind. Nothing,
in fhort, can deprive her of her benevolence,
"and that benevolence must always infure her
"tranquillity.""Tell her, I entreat you, Sir,"
faid Sterling, "that a relation, whom he has
never ſeen, begs to be introduced to her."
Sophia received her coufin with unaffected re-
gard
<<
6.6
7


THE THREE SISTERS.
113
gard and natural politeneſs. "I am enchanted
"with you, my fweet coufin !" faid the Eaft-
Indian. "In your modeft, neat, linen gown,
you look more like a woman of faſhion, than
"your ſhowy fifter in her gayeft dreffes; and
"poor as you are, your features are illuminated
"by an air of content which never appears on
"the vifage of that other fifter of yours; that
"rich lady that founds hofpitals! But tell me
"now honeftly, coufin Sophy, how has it hap-
"pened that neither of my coufins ever made
" mention of your name to me fince my arrival?
"Have you fallen out with them? Or do they
"not know where you refide ?”
Believe me, Sir," replied Sophia, "I love
"them both too well to keep them in igno-
"rance of my place of abode, and within theſe
"laft three days I have written to each of
"them.". "Hard-hearted wretches!" exclaim-
ed the good Sterling; "can I ever forgive
"their indifference to fo amiable a relation ?"
"Excufe them this one time," faid the gentle
Sophia; "I doubt not but that they meant
"to have made me amends for this omiffion,
"by the future kindneſs of their behaviour."
"No, no," faid her coufin, "I know the
"vilenefs of their hearts. They were confci-
"ous of your fuperior merit, and dreaded, left
"I ſhould reward it by beſtowing on you that
"fortune
66


114
THE CONTRAST.
* fortune which each of them already grafped
"as her own: but their odius cunning and
"greedinefs fhall be diſappointed. To your
" oftentatious fifter I will not give one farthing;
"fhe does good, indeed, but it is merely for
"the fake of being talked of abroad as a wo-
"man of unbounded charity. Your penurious
fifter I am ftill lefs difpofed to encourage.
"The donation which fhe has made in favour
"of the poor, has her own intereſt ſo immedi-
"ately in view, that it gives me infinitely more
"difguft than pleaſure. You, my worthy cou-
"fin, who do good actions merely becauſe it is
"right and fitting do to them, you I declare to be
"my fole inheritrix; and from this moment I
"infift on your making ufe of my fortune as if
"it were your own. I know that fortune is by
"no means neceffary to your happineſs; but I
know, at the fame time, that your being rich
"will be the means of communicating happi-
"nefs to numbers of fufferers, whom, until now,
"you could only pity and not relieve."
1
1
X.
THE CONTRAST.
REDERIC was the fon of a lady of for-
tune, who, having retired to her eſtate in
the country, beftowed moſt of her time on his
FRED
education..


THE CONTRAST.
115
education. In return for her attachment to him,
Frederic was modeft, ftudious, and humane; he
felt the obligations which he was under to his
parent, and did his beſt to requite them by pur-
fuing her inftructions with care, and by prefer-
ring her company to that of any other perſon.
Jacob, a lad of the fame age with Frederic, and
whofe mother's cottage ftood near the park-pale
of the lady we have juſt ſpoken of, was in every
reſpect of a character directly oppoſite to that of
his amiable neighbour. He was loved by no
one, not even by his poor mother, all whofe
endeavours could never prevail on him even to
take the pains of learning to read. The moft
innocent way in which he ſpent his time was in
loitering from place to place, and lounging
about; at other feafons he was the plague of
his comrades, and, in confequence, the detefta-
tion of the village. Frederic was too well bred
up to chufe fo vile a boy for a play-fellow;
jacob, however, taking advantage of the oppor-
tunities which the fituation of the mother's tene-
ment gave him, ftole, one day, into the room
where Frederic's play-things were kept, broke
to pieces his violin and his chariot, completely
fpoilt his bird organ, and carried off in triumph
his hobby-horſe.
The author of this mifchief was foon dif-
covered, and Frederic, in the firſt emotions of
refent-
1


116
THE CONTRAST.
refentment, was running by the advice of a fer-
vant, to acquaint the mother of Jacob with the
exploits of her fon, "But, no," ſaid he, check-
ing his fpeed," the is a fevere woman, and the
"will horfewhip him without mercy, and, may
"be, fhut him up in an out-houſe for a week
together: How fhould I like that for my-
"felf? No, no, I had better forgive him, for
"this once."
Not long after this, Frederic was walking out
with his beloved mother, when unluckily they
ftrolled near a place where the thoughtless,
wicked Jacob was amufing himſelf by throwing
ftones with all his little force at every object
within his reach, totally regardleſs of the mif-
chief which he might occafion. One of theſe
unluckily hit the little Frederic on the head,
and fetched the blood; but Frederic was too
much of a man to cry at a little pain.-
"Mama," ſaid the ſpirited lad, "this ftone has
"hurt me a little, but I dare fay the pain will
"foon be over." As his forehead, however,
was all covered with blood, his mother went
directly home with him, and had every proper
care taken of his wound. It was an ugly one,
and brought on a fever, and it was the end of
feven or eight days before he was permitted to
walk out, and his mother being engaged with
company, ordered a fervant to accompany him.
As


THE CONTRAST.
117
As they were walking, the difcourfe turned on
the wickedness of Jacob; and juſt as the do-
meftic was hoping they might ſee nothing of
him during their walk, they heard a ruſtling
noife in a tree behind them, and down, at once,
came Jacob, ſcreaming and crying, from the top
of an elm, which his uſual ſpirit of miſchief had
tempted him to climb in purſuit of a crow's neft.
"I fear," faid Frederic, exerting his utmoſt en-
deavours to raiſe the poor wretch," that you
"have hurt yourſelf fadly." Jacob ftill con-
tinued his groans and cries; and well he might,
for, upon examination, his leg appeared to be
broken in two places. "Poor fellow," ſaid the
benevolent Frederic, "how he muft fuffer! let
"us contrive fome how or other, to convey him
"home to his mother.-Unhappy woman!
"what diftrefs muft fhe not feel when the fees
"the condition of her unlucky fon!" Her dif-
trefs was great indeed. "Poor as I am," the
exclaimed, “I can juſt ſupport myſelf and this
"ungracious lad; but how fhall I ever be able
"to pay the long demand which the furgeon
"will have upon me, by the time that Jacob
"recovers." Little Frederic, who was a wit-
nefs to her complaints, afforded to them thoſe
tears which his own fuffering could never extort
from him." Make yourſelf eaſy, my good
neighbour," ſaid the amiable boy, "and oblige
"me
46


118
THE CONTRAST.
TRAST.
"me fo far as to accept this new crown-piece,
"which my good Mama has juſt given me, that
"I might buy me a fairing, but I can do with-
"out it better than you can." The afflicted
mother looked at him with filent admiration.
Frederic proceeded to affure her, that as he was
confcious of the fmallneſs of the fum, (though
it was his all) he would uſe his intereft with his
parent for a larger fupply, and did not doubt to
obtain it. The unfortunate woman nów found
her tongue, and expreffed in the moſt affecting
terms, her aſtoniſhment at feeing his earneſtneſs
in relieving that worthless lad, by whoſe miſ-
chievous hand his forehead was fill fmarting.
"This," ſaid ſhe, "is truly to return good for
"evil!" Frederic now returned to his mother,
and after giving her the hiftory of the whole
occurrence, "How comes it, Mama," faid he,
"that although I was truly forry for poor Ja-
"cob's misfortune, and though I feel both for
him and his mother, yet, on the whole, I am
"more pleafed than grieved?" Child," faid the
lady, "you have had an opportunity of doing
"well, and you have made ufe of it; and, be-
lieve me, throughout life you will find, that
"the conſciouſneſs of having done a benevolent
"action will be the moſt effectual cordial for
"every painful fenfation."
THE


[ 119 ]
THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE
LION.
THE
HE Lion, though inferior in fize to ſeveral
other animals which inhabit the fame
countries with himſelf, is fo fuperior in the
united qualities of ftrength, addrefs, and cou-
rage, as to have obtained the higheſt rank
amongſt the brute creation. Even the cum-
brous Elephant, and the robuſt Buffalo, are con-
quered by this lordly beaft, who proudly fub-
dues and preys upon all, but is himſelf the prey
of none.
Nor is his courage lefs remarkable
than his ftrength. The fierce Lion, who has
been uſed to conquer, and is ignorant of the
fuperior powers of man, will fometimes rufh
upon a caravan which is travelling through the
deferts; and fuch is his contempt of danger,
that when he is repulfed, he does not turn his back
and endeavour to escape, but retreats fighting,
and defending himſelf againſt the attacks of his
enemies. The largeft Lions are about eight or nine
feet in length, and three or four feet in height :
their colour is yellow on the back, and a duſky
white on the fides and belly. The male Lion
is adorned with a large flowing mane, which
grows larger as he advances in years; but the
female is without this ornament, and is about
one-fourth lefs in fize. In general the Lioneſs
is


120
NATURAL HISTORY
is much more docile and gentle than the Lion;
but when ſhe has young, ſhe becomes ftill fiercer
than he, and will attack a number of armed men
in defence of her whelps. Her care to fecure's
them from diſcovery is fhewn before their birth;
The retires to the leaft frequented places, and
when they are brought forth, fhe is fo careful
to preſerve them, that when the leaves them to
procure food, fhe carefully bruſhes away the
marks of her feet with her tail, that her young
may not be difcovered by the prints of her fteps.
The Lion is an inhabitant of warm climates,
and is never found in the frozen regions of the
North. Indeed the ftrength and fierceness of
this terrible animal appear to be greatly increaf-
ed by the heat of the climate he inhabits; and
there is a remarkable difference between the fe-
rocity of thoſe Lions which breathe the tempe-
rate air of lofty mountains, and of thoſe which
dwell in the fandy and fcorching plains. The
American Lions, which are natives of a milder
climate, 'have neither the fiercenefs, the ſtrength,
nor the courage of thoſe born under the fervid
rays of an Indian or African fun; nor are they
adorned with a mane. Indeed, their differing
in fo many reſpects has made ſeveral Naturaliſts
very doubtful whether or not they were of the
true Lion fpecies.
Though the Lion is naturally an inhabitant of
hot


OF THE LION.
121
7
hot countries, he can fubfift a long time in more> :
temperate climates. Several have lived during
many years in Europe, and fome have brought
forth young, and attained to a confiderable age,
in England. The time which has been fuppofed
the ufual term of their lives is between twenty,
and twenty-five years. Their numbers have
been greatly leffened by the increaſe of the hu-
man fpecies, and the invention of fire-arms; and
though many ſtill inhabit the ſouthern parts of
Africa and Afia, and are very fierce and dread-
ful, yet they are no longer found in very large-
numbers. Thofe Lions which dwell near the
villages of India or Barbary, have ſo often prov-
ed the fuperior powers of man, that they have
loft much of their native fiercenefs, and, if forc-.
ed by hunger, or provoked by the attacks of
men, they attempt to affault them, they ap-
proach with great caution and figns of fear. It
is however afferted, that if this fierce beaft has
conquered, and has once tafted human fleſh, he
will never afterwards prey with equal pleaſure
upon any other animal.
When the Lion prepares to attack his prey,
he generally makes ufe of ftratagem to enfure
his fuccefs. He lies in wait near the fprings
where the animals go to drink, couched upon
his belly, darts upon them as they paſs, and fel-
dom miffes his aim, though he frequently makes
Ꮐ
a leap


122
NATURAL HISTORY
a leap twelve or fifteen feet in length. As he
neither hears nor fees very well, though he has
the faculty of feeing in the night, he is known'
to employ great watchfulneſs to procure his
prey, and is obliged to keep at a confiderable
diftance from the animal he means to attack,
who would, if he came nearer, foon diſcover
him by his ſtrong fcent. Springs and fountains
are very agreeable to Him, not only on account
of their being frequented by other animals, but
alfo from the great thirstineſs of the Lion; for
though he is able to fupport great hunger, he
fuffers much from thirſt. When he attacks the
Buffalo, he ruſhes upon him unfeen, faftens his
two fore paws upon his mouth and noftrils, and
does not refign his hold till the animal is quite
strangled; he then fometimes tears out the en-
trails that he may remove the body with more
cafe, and drags it to a retreat, where he may en-
joy his feaft in fecurity.
All animals appear to have a natural dread of
the Lion, and travellers have frequently been
acquainted with their approach by the uneafi-
nefs of their cattle. The oxen and horfes figh
deeply, and ſhew every appearance of terror, and
the dogs creep cloſe to the feet of their mafters,
and are afraid even to bark. At the found of
his terrible voice the affrighted animals run
wildly about to avoid him; but as he lays his
mouth
1
1
1


OF THE LION
123
mouth to the ground when he utters his deep
continued roars, the found is fo diffuſed, that
they know not whence it proceeds, and they fre-
quently advance to the very ſpot where he ſtands
ready to devour them. But terrible as the Lion
is to every other animal, he is fo inferior to man,
that he is not only frequently taken in toils,
which are formed to deftroy him, but is even
hunted for amuſement. The inhabitants of the
fouthern parts of Africa, mounted on horſeback,
frequently purſue and kill him, and they eſteem
his fleth both pleafant and nouriſhing. His
fkin, which in fome countries has been uſed as
a royal mantle, is however regarded as very in-
ferior in real ufefulneſs to the hide of an ox.
#
The inhabitants of the Cape of Good Hope,
who are much infefted by Lions, which devour
their flocks, make uſe of many artifices to de-
ftroy them. In travelling in the night, they are
obliged to be pretty conſtantly upon their guard
againſt this fierce animal, though he feldom at-
tacks them in the day, except he is very hungry,
or greatly provoked. A Hottentot, who was
travelling to a confiderable diſtance, obferved
that he was followed by one of theſe formi-
dable animals, which kept ſeveral yards behind
him, but advanced with exactly the ſame ſpeed.
Senfible of the cunning of the Lion, who fel-
dom attacks his prey openly, the traveller con-
G 2
eluded
A


124
NATURAL HISTORY
cluded that he only waited for the approach of
darkneſs to ruſh upon him; and as he was with-
out weapons, and at a great diſtance from any
habitation, he was in the utmoſt danger of being
torn in pieces by his purfuer. His knowledge
of the manners of the animal, and his own inge-
nuity, furniſhed him, however, with the means
to efcape. He carefully fought for fome rocky
place, which was level at the top, and had a deep
precipice on one fide; and ſeating himself on
the brink, he prepared for the part he was to act
to fave himſelf from deftruction, while his ene-
my lay couched upon the ground, and ſteadily
obferving him. As foon as it became duſk, the
Hottentot, gently fliding forwards, let himſelf
down upon a ſmall part of the rock which pro-
jected juſt below him; and which was juſt large
enough to fupport him; but in order to deceive
the Lion, he raiſed his ſtick, upon which he had
placed his hat and cloak, and made a gentle mo-
tion with it juſt above his head, at a fmall dif-
tance from the edge of the mountain. This ftra-
tagem had the defired fuccefs. The Lion crept
gently towards the ftick, which he miftook for
the man, and then bounded upon it, with fo ex-
act an aim, as to fall down the precipice cloſe to
the fpot where the Hottentot had placed the
fnare.
There are few difpofitions fo favage, that they
may


OF THE LION.
125
may not be tamed by kindneſs, and even the fe-
rocious Lion has afforded the ſtrongeſt proofs of
attachment and gratitude for the benefits he has
received. The celebrated Earl of Peterborough,
when a boy, was prefented with a young Lion,
which he greatly delighted to careſs and to feed;
and the animal became ſo tame, as to fuffer his
Lordſhip to play with him with the familiarity
of a brother. They grew up together, and their
intimacy had continued feveral years, when the
Earl was appointed by Queen Ann to the com-
mand of her army in Spain. His promotion did
not, however, make him forgetful of his old
friend the Lion; he gave ftrict orders to his
houſekeeper to take care of his playfellow. The
animal fhewed great concern at the abfence of
his Lordſhip, fenfibly pined for his lofs, and re-
fufed his food; and the Earl, in order to preferve
his life, ordered him to be preſented to her Ma
jefty, in hopes that the fociety of the other ani-
mals in the Tower would make him forget his
old friend. A long time pafled before the re-
turn of the Earl from Spain, who brought over
with him a Spanish officer whom he had taken
prifoner. His humanity made him defirous of
making the captivity of the Spaniard as eaſy as
poffible; and in hopes of amufing him, he took
him to view whatever was curious, in or near
London, and amongſt other places they vifited
G 3
:
the


126
FATAL EFFECTS
the Tower. Here the Earl was received by a
roar of joy from his old companion, who imme
diately knew him, and fhewed the greateſt tranf-
ports at the return of his benefactor; nor did he
fuffer him to depart, till, in the excefs of his rap-
ture, he had deprived his Lordſhip of nearly the
whole of his coat, though he very carefully
avoided injuring his perfon.
Tal
1
** * 30
The
FATAL EFFECTS OF DELAY.
CHARLE
»
HARLES STANLEY was the fecond fon
of a gentleman, who poffeffed a fmall eftate
in Yorkshire, which at his death was defigned
for his eldeſt fon, and the youngeſt was to be
brought up to fome genteel buſineſs, by which
he might improve the little fortune which his
father intended for him. · Charles gave early
marks of a fweet and engaging temper; he was
dutiful to his parents, he tenderly loved his bro-
ther, and was fo obliging to the ſervants, that he
became the favourite with them all. Every little
'boy in the village taiked of the good nature of
little Charles, and of his willingneſs to part with
his ſweetmeats and playthings.
When Charles was about four years old, his
father fent him to a neighbouring ſchool, where
he was very foon as much remarked for the pro-
grefs


OF DELAY.
127
grefs he made in learning as he had been for his
fweet temper. He read better than any boy in
the ſchool, and whenever he went before his
mafter to fpell, he was certain to get the first
place. This great quickneſs gave much delight
to his fond parents and his tutor, though they
obferved that, with all his good qualities, Charles
素
​had one capital fault; instead of going directly
to fchool, he would often loiter in the fields till
long after the other boys had gone in, and his
books were always to be fought for at the very
time when he fhould have taken them to his
mafter,
to
2
}
At a proper age, Charles was placed by his
father at a great fchool, where he no longer
found the indulgence to his faults, which he had
met with from the village tutor. He was not
allowed to defer the morning's taſk till the after-
noon, and it was remarked to him that he was
inferior in learning to many who were his ju-
niors in age. Charles was ftung with the re-
mark; he knew that he was able to excel, and
he refolved that he would at fome time take
great pains, and obtain the fame rank he had
held in the village fchool; but he thought he
might defer this till fome future time. His
work, while he was under the eye of his mafter,
was performed as well, and in leſs time than
that of moft of his fchool-fellows; but the talks
G 4
which


128
FATAL EFFECTS
which he had to perform out of ſchool hours
were always deferred, and every thing furniſhed
Charles with an excufe for delay, not that het
paſſed his vacant time in play; inftead of that,
he was often employed in writing exerciſes for
his fchool-fellows while they were amuſing
themſelves, and his own tak was deferred till
the morning, when there was little time to per-
form it well, and he was puniſhed for the faults.
Thus poor Charles feldom enjoyed the proper
feafon for play. He was compelled to complete
his talk when his companions were enjoying
themſelves in innocent fports, and he was fel-
dom fet free from work till they were retiring to
reft.
C
Charles continued in this fituation till the age
of fourteen, and was every day remarked for his
abilities to excel, and for thofe habits of delay
which often deſtroyed all the advantages he na-
turally poffeffed. Mr. Stanley then took him to
London, and placed him with a merchant, a
friend of his, in the city, to whom he hoped
Charles would become fo agreeable, as in time
to be admitted into partnership with him. In
this fituation Charles gave the ſtrongeſt proofs of
integrity, ſweet temper, and great abilities, but
delay attended whatever he undertook; he was
not dreſſed till fome hours after he ſhould be at
the deík; he did not get to the Cuftom-houfe
till


OF DELAY.
129
1
f
till the books were fhut, nor appear upon Change
till every man of buſineſs had deferted it. With
more virtues, and greater ability, than almoft any
man of his acquaintance, he became a general
object of ridicule and derifion, and when the
term of his apprenticeſhip expired, he found
that, with a character which was fhaded with
only one foible, all intimate connections with
him were fhunned by the fober part of the trad-
ing world.
About this time Charles had the misfortune
to loſe his father, who bequeathed him fuch a
fortune as entitled him to expect a partnerſhip
in fome refpectable houſe. But his known ha-
bit of delay prevented his friends from making
the offer; and though he fully intended to feek
fuch a connection, yet he continued to defer it
till he had greatly leffened his little patrimony.
His father had introduced him to feveral friends
who might have affifted him greatly, but he had
difgufted them by his conduct, by deferring his
vifits to unfeaſonable hours, and by protracting
them till the repeated yawns of the family in-
formed him that it was time to depart. Charles,
who faw himſelf in a fituation where he was
very likely to be without either friends or for-
tune, now refolved to exert himſelf, and to fol-
low the plan which his father had traced out for
his conduct in life. He could not, indeed, meet
G 5
with


130
FATAL EFFECTS
fi
with an agreeable partnerſhip, but he determined
to enter into a mercantile line by himſelf; and
his friends, who were delighted with his exer-
tions, formed fuch extenfive connections for him,
that he had the greateſt chance of being in a few
years one of the richeſt men in the city. But,
alas! his habit of delay had acquired more
ftrength than he was aware of, and his efforts
to conquer it were but tranfient. Charles foon
relapfed into his former indolence. He defer-
red bufinefs till he had not time to tranfact it.
He neglected to comply with the orders of his
correfpondents till the goods they fent for were
no longer wanted; and he omitted inſuring his
veffels, not becauſe he intended to riſk the lofs,
but becauſe, as he did not fee them finking, he
thought he might defer the bufinefs to fome fu
ture time. In a fhort time his bufinefs declined,
feveral of his veffels had either been taken or
loft, his creditors poured in from every quarter,
his property could not answer their demands;
and Charles Stanley, whofe integrity was re-
ſpected by all, was hurried to priſon, with the
conviction that his misfortunes were the confe
quence of his folly." ..
*
In this wretched fituation Charles was a. prey
to forrow. His heart was melted at the mifery
which many poor and innocent families muft
have fuffered from his failure; and he thought
elsa
of


OF DELAY.
131
of the uneafinefs he muſt have given to his mo
ther with agony. Firmly did he refolve, that if he
could ever again be eſtabliſhed, he would atone
by his future diligence for his paft mifconduct;
but where could he look for affiftance? His mo-.
ther had no more than was fufficient for her fup-
port; and his brother had already given him
whatever he could afford. Charles was fitting
alone, reflecting upon the fad fituation of his af
fairs, when he was informed that a gentleman
enquired for him below, and in a few moments
he beheld a brother of his mother's, whom the
family had believed to be dead, but who was juſt
returned from India with a large fortune. Mr.
Hilton was much grieved at the miſconduct and
misfortunes of his nephew; but was fo much
affected by his ingenuous account of his paft
faults, and his refolutions of amendment, that
he generously diſcharged all his debts, and en-
abled him to appear again amongſt his old ac-
quaintance with credit.
#
Charles, fully fenfible of the miferies from
which he had been delivered, was very earneft
to fettle himſelf in fome bufinefs which would
afford him fupport; and his kind uncle, who
hoped that a new fcene would be favourable to
his new-formed plans, earneſtly adviſed him to
embark for India, promifing to return with him,
that he might fee him well fettled. This good
G 6.
nefs


132
FATAL EFFECTS, &c.
nefs filled the heart of Charles with the warmest
gratitude: he fell at his feet, and declared with
tears, that he would exert himſelf to the utmoſt
to fulfil the commands of his generous benefac-
tor. Every thing was ordered for their depar-
ture, and when the time arrived for the failing
of the fhip, Mr. Hilton went on board with ſome
goods which were in readineſs, leaving his nephew
to follow him to the Downs with thofe which
were not quite finished. But delay again appeared
in the conduct of Charles; he omitted enquiring
after them till an exprefs arrived from Mr. Hilton,
with the account that the veffel was to fail the next
day, and that he muſt haften down immediately.
Charies then began to execute the orders which
his uncle had left, but was detained fo long be-
fore he could get the goods, that when he reach-
ed the Downs he found the ſhip had failed fome
hours. Almoft diftracted with this account, and
with the thoughts of what his kind uncle muft
think of his mifconduct, he wandered about for
fome time in the greatcft diftrefs, and at length
having become almoſt deſperate, he hired a
quick-failing boat, in hopes of being able to
overtake the fhip. For fome time they advanced
rapidly, and gained fight of the India fhip, and
the heart of Charles was alternately agitated by
hope and fear. But fuddenly the ſky was overcaft,
the fea fwelled, the wind roared, and the boat-
men


THE NOSEGAY.
133
men declared that there was every appearance of
an approaching ſtorm, which foon raged around
them with the utmoſt fury. The veffel, which
was too light to refift its force, was toffed about
at the mercy of the wind and waves, and the
only hope the unhappy Charles had of faving
his own life, and thoſe of his companions, was
by reaching the fhip, which they faw at a ſmall
diſtance before them. But they exerted every
effort in vain; a great ſea broke over the bark,
and Mr. Hilton had the mifery of feeing it fink
for ever into the bofom of the ocean, and to la-
ment the lofs of the unfortunate Charles, who,
though poffeffed of fuch talents as made him
loved and admired by all, yet by one unhappy
foible was rendered miferable and ridiculous
through life, and ſubjected to a dreadful and pre-
mature death.
THE NOSEGAY.
APTAIN DORMER, and his amiable
Lady, had lived during feveral years at their
feat in Dorfetfhire, happy in themſelves, and be-
loved by all around them, when they received
the unwelcome account that the Captain was
commanded to join his regiment, which was or-
dered to embark for America. The news of
this


134
THE NOSEGAY.
this event filled all the country with forrow.
The rich grieved for the lofs of fo excellent a
neighbour; the poor mourned for the departure
of their kind and conftant benefactor and the
tenants and fervants wept aloud at the thoughts
of being feparated from a mafter who had al-
ways treated them more like children than de-
pendants. But in vain were their entreaties that
he would remain; honour called upon him to
depart, and Mrs. Dormer faw, with the utmoft
forrow, that to honour he would facrifice the
ftrongest feelings of his breaft. She refolved,
however, not to be left behind, and in a fhort
time, they exchanged the tranquil pleaſures of
Belmount for the horrors of carnage and war.
Mr3. Dormer had not been long in America
before the lay-in of twins, both daughters, and
very beautiful. In the care of thefe fweet chil-
dren fhe found fome relief during the frequent
abfences of her huſband, and would often in-
dulge the hope of returning peace, when the
Captain, inſtead of engaging in the flaughter of
his fellow-creatures, might enjoy the delight of
improving his little Fanny and Sophia. The
children daily became more fond of their pa
rents, often clinging to their father when they
faw him preparing to go out, and always clap
ping their little hands with joy when they faw
him return. As foon as they were able to ſpeak,
Mrs.


THE NOSEGAY.
f
135
Mrs. Dormer taught them to fay Papa, and in a
fhort time, when they faw him at a diftance;
they would directly leave their play, and run-
ning up to their Mama, would cry out, "Papa
"is come, dear Papa is come to fee his little
"girls."uck
The improvement of the children became
more visible every day, and they were daily
more dear to their parents, when Captain Dor
mer, returning from a foraging party, was fierce-
by and fuddenly attacked by the Indians, and a
defperate engagement enfued. The time when
Mrs. Dormer had expected his return had long
paffed, and fhe fat in filent agony looking at her
dear children, whom at one moment the feared
were deprived of their parent, and the next,
ſtepping to the room door, fhe anxiouſly lif
tened to every noife, and was fearful, left even
the found of her own breath fhould prevent her,
from hearing the well-known ſtep of her be
loved hufband. At length a found reached her
ears it came nearer; it increaſed, and ſhe flew
down ftairs in the fond hope of welcoming the
return of what was moſt dear to her. The door
was opened, but it no longer opened to admit
the tender huſband, and fond father, joyfully.
returning from the labours of the day;-Cap-
tain Dormer was brought in a mangled, lifeless
corpfe.
2129
1
Thus


136
THE NOSEGAY.
Thus cruelly deprived of her huſband, Mrs.
Dormer refolved to return to England, and to
employ her time in the education of her little
girls. She took them down into Dorfetfhire,
and inftructed them herfelf; and little Fanny
and Sophia Dormer were foon remarked as the
neateft work-women in the country. But their
good Mama did not direct their attention merely
to the little arts of making trifling ornaments:
the taught them that virtue was fuperior to ac-
complishments, and that what was ufeful was
more excellent than what was merely elegant.
Little Fanny foon underſtood, that though mufic
gave her great delight, it was ſtill more delight-
ful by her own ſweetneſs to charm all around
her and Sophia learned that no pleaſure was
equal to the pleaſure of doing good to her
fellow-creatures.
In this happy retirement Mrs. Dormer con-
tinued for fome years improving her fweet girls
in real virtue and uſeful knowledge. At this
time Lady Aubrey, a relation of Mrs. Dormer's,
paid her a vifit, and upon her return would
gladly have prevailed with the good mother to
fuffer both her daughters to ſpend ſome time
with her in London. This, however, Mrs. Dor-
mer could not agree to; but as Fanny had fhewn
a ftrong affection for her ladyſhip, and earneſtly
wifhed to fee London, the confented to her go,
ing;


THE NOSEGAY.
137
ing; and Sophia, who preferred the company of
her Mama to any other enjoyment, was left at
home. At firſt indeed, fhe felt uneafy without
her fifter; fhe found a folo on the harpfichord
was not half fo agreeable as a duet, and the
beautiful alcove in the garden was not near fo
pleaſant, as when Fanny fat with her there, at
her drawing or needle-work. By degrees, how-
ever, fhe became reconciled to her lofs, but
frequently thought that Fanny could not enjoy
half the pleaſure in London that ſhe did at Bel-
mount, in affifting her Mama to work for the
poor people of the village, or in going with her
to vifit thoſe who were fick. But her greateſt
delight was in the office which Mrs. Dormer
had given her of diſtributing the broken victuals,
which were given away to the poor every day
at her gate. This was the higheſt pleaſure
Sophia could receive. She flew with rapture to
the houſe-keeper to obtain her welcome burden,
under which the tottered to the door. She ex-
ulted in feeing fo many poor creatures made
happy by her bounty, and delighted to hear
them fay, "Here comes the good little girl;
"the will, one day, be as good a lady as her
"Mama" and fhe often thought with great
pleaſure of the joy which her fifter Fanny would
have, when the returned, in this new employ-
ment.
But


138
THE NOSEGAY.
But Fanny's vifit to Lady Aubrey unfitted her
for the innocent pleafures of Belmount. She
never heard of fuch a thing as working for the
poor from her Ladyfhip; and cards, drefs, and
elegant equipages, engaged the attention of all
the circles to which Fanny was admitted. She
almoſt learned to forget the poor; and when
fhe returned to Belmount, fhe ſpoke haughtily
to the fervants, and ſcarcely noticed her infe-
riors; and when the poor came to receive their
daily allowance, inftead of ferving them, the
either turned away, or fuffered her little favour-
ite dog, Surly, to bark at them, and fhake their
tattered cloaths. All the village talked of her
pride, and lamented that the good Mrs. Dormer
ſhould have ſuch a naughty little girl, but the
good and gentle Sophia was loved by them all.
They prefented her with the choiceft flowers in
their gardens, and the most beautiful bantams
and pea-fowls were fent to the poultry yard of
the good little girl that behaved fo well to every
one. When Mrs. Dormer came from church,
all the farmers and their wives made their beſt
bows and curtfies to the good lady, who ſpoke
kindly to them all. She was followed by Fanny,
who never turned her head afide; but when So-
phia came near, the children plucked one ano-
ther, and faid, "Here comes the young lady,
"fee
“.


THE NOSEGAY.
139
"fee how good humoured the looks: fhe will
"afk us all how we do."
Fanny could not avoid ſeeing how diſagree-
able her pride made her to every body, and the
found herſelf much lefs Irappy than fhe was be-
fore fhe went to London; but the had learned
there to think that fuch behaviour was right,
and, if it was an error, fhe foolishly refolved
rather to adhere to it than to own fhe had been
wrong. She was one day invited with her fifter
to a ball at the houfe of a lady in the neigh-
bourhood, where he was to meet all the young
people in that country. Her heart exulted in
the thoughts of this gay party, and ſhe reſolved
to behave in the fame manner the had feen
fome faſhionable ladies do in London. Upon
entering the room the advanced to a ſmall knot
of young ladies of her acquaintance; and, with-
out ſpeaking to the reft of the company, began
to make remarks upon their dreſs and manners
in a whiſpering voice, but in a tone loud enough
to be heard. After fome time a young lady,
whom she had never ſeen before, entered the
room, in a dreſs made up in a manner very dif-
ferent from any that Fanny had ever obferved;
The directly began to fneer at her, and declared,
that for her part fhe was furprized fuch ſtrange
figures fhould think of mixing with people of
fashion,
2


140
THE NOSEGAY.
faſhion, and wondered where they came from.
The young lady confounded at fo rude a recep,
tion, retired to a corner, where the was joined
by the good humoured Sophia, who chatted
with her till the lady of the houſe returned into
the room, and introduced her into the company
as the eldest daughter of the Duke of Dorfet,
who was juſt returned from a tour to France.
Nothing could exceed the chagrin of Fanny,
when the found that the young lady whom the
had been ridiculing was the principal perfon in
the company, and that the drefs fhe had defpif-
ed, was the admiration of all who faw it. She
had not the affurance to endeavour to repair
her fault by apologies, or to preſs her acquain-
tance upon the lady whom he had fo grofsly
affronted. Indeed fhe faw that neither her ex-
cufes nor intimacy would be accepted, and the
had the mortification of hearing her fifter Sv-
phia receive a very preffing invitation to Dorfet
Houſe, in which fhe was not included.
Fanny was greatly mortified at this incident,
and the refolved never to behave in fuch a
manner again. She ought, indeed, directly to
have endeavoured to conquer every feeling of
pride, and to return to that behaviour which
made her beloved by every body; but the only
refolved that fhe would not again laugh aloud
at a ſtranger in a genteel company, and run the
rifk


THE NOSEGAY.
141
risk of offending her fuperiors. As to the poor
and miferable, ſhe thought them beneath her
regard.
Some time after this, Fanny and Sophia were
again invited to the houſe of a lady, whom,
as Fanny regarded her as a perfon of great tafte,
fhe was defirous to pleaſe her by appearance.
She put on all her little finery, but found that
one thing was neceffary to complete her dreſs,
which was a Nofegay, and this ſhe was deter-
mined to buy when they reached the town.
They fet off in the carriage, attended only by
fervants, and by Fanny's little dog, which ran at
the fide of the chariot. Fanny could talk of no-
thing but of calling at the florist's, and of the
elegant Nofegay with which the fhould be
adorned. At length they faw a little tattered
girl lying afleep upon the fide of the road,
whom Surly directly attacked, and began to
ſhake her ragged cloaths. Sophia called him
haftily away, and would have fucceeded before
he had awakened the poor little girl, but Fanny
encouraged him to proceed; upon this the child
ftarting up, aimed a blow at the dog, which he
avoided, and made a fnap at her leg. The poor
terrified girl then endeavoured to run away, but
in running miffed her ftep, and fell down the
bank into the ditch. She had hurt her foot, and
lay crying in the ditch till Sophia ordered the
fervant


142
THE NOSEGAY.
fervant to take her up, and, contrary to the ad-
vice of Fanny, defired him to place her in the
chariot that they might convey her home. She
then began to comfort the poor child, and in-
quired about her hurt; but ſhe continued to cry
out, "O my poor mammy, my poor mammy,
"what will ſhe do, now I cannot run about and
66
beg for her and my daddy!" "Who is your
"mammy," faid Sophia," and what ſhall we
"do for your foot?" "Oh don't mind my
"foot," faid the child, 66
give me only fome
"bread for my poor mammy and daddy, and
"my little brother, and I don't care what be-
66 comes of
my foot."
The child had fcarcely finiſhed her ſpeech
when the carriage ftopped at the door of a cot-
tage, which the little girl faid was her home.
When the attempted to get out, the found her-
felf unable to walk; and was obliged to be car-
ried by the footman, who, accompanied by So-
phia, entered the houfe, while Fanny remained
in the carriage fullenly pouting at her fiſter's
condefcenfion, and very angry to be ſo delayed.
She was indeed forry to fee the poor child fo
hurt, and when he was taken out of the carri-
age gave her what money fhe could ſpare; but
fhe took care to keep enough to buy her elegant
Nofegay. When Sophia entered the houſe, fhe
found a fcene of mifery which he could not
have


THE NOSEGAY.
143
have conceived. The father of the little girl
had long laboured under an ague and fever, her
mother was worn down with poverty and fatigue,
and her little brother crying for hunger in a cor-
ner of a poor cottage, ftripped of almoſt all its
furniture, which had been fold to buy neceffa-
ries. Sophia found that little Sally had gone
out in the morning to beg fomething for this
afflicted family, and that, quite exhauſted with
hunger and fatigue, the fat down upon the bank
and cried herſelf to fleep. The tender heart of
Sophia was greatly affected by this diſtreſs; ſhe
emptied her pocket of every farthing which it
contained, and gave it to the good woman of
the houſe, and would not keep enough to buy
the collar which he had once intended for her
little favourite fquirrel. She then prepared to
leave the cottage, but before the went defired
the poor people to get what was neceffary, and
told them fhe would foon return with her good
Mama, who would give them cloaths and victuals
enough.
The fifters then proceeded to their vifit. Fanny
bought her Nofegay, which was very beautiful:
but the ſweetneſs of Sophia, and the cheerful-
nefs which the thoughts of the good action fhe
had been performing inſpired her with, made
her fo agreeable, that all the company were
charmed with her, but paid little attention to
Fanny.


144
THE NOSEGAY.
¡
Fanny. At night, when they returned, Mrs.
Dormer noticed Fanny's Nofegay, which, though
it had begun to fade, was ftill very beautiful.
This pleafed Fanny, and fhe cried out, "Ah!
"Mama, I was fure you would like it, it is fo
'".
very pretty, and my fifter liked it very much
"indeed." "Then why did the not buy one?”
faid Mrs. Dormer; Fanny hung down her head,
and in a faultering tone anfwered, "Becaufe fhe
"had no money." Mrs. Dormer, furprized at
this, for ſhe had given fome to each of them
that very morning, inquired from Sophia what
was become of it; Sophia then recounted to her
mother the condition in which the had ſeen the
poor people at the cottage, but took care not to
mention a word of Fanny's ill behaviour: the
then told her the way in which ſhe had diſpoſed
of her money, and the promiſe fhe had made.
of taking her Mama to the cottage; and ended
by begging that fhe would go with her in the
morning. Tranſported with her conduct, Mrs.
Dormer preffed her virtuous child to her bofom,
and promiſed to take care of the wretched
family, for whom Sophia was fo much intereft-
ed. Then looking with anger at Fanny, the
faid, "Did you then give nothing to theſe poor
unhappy creatures?" Fanny hung down her
head in filence, for fhe was afhamed to ſpeak ;
but Sophia faid, "Oh yes, Mama, indced the
66
"gave


THE NOSEGAY.
145
1
"gave them all the money he had, except
"juſt enough to buy her Noſegay and a trinket
"for her little watch; and I am fure if ſhe had
"gone into the cottage and feen their miſery,
"fhe would have given them that too." "She
"fat at the door then," faid Mrs. Dormer,
"while you went in." Then turning to Fanny,
"Proud and unfeeling girl," faid he, "who
"could prefer vain and trifling ornaments to
"the delight of relieving the fick and mifer
"able! Retire from my preſence; take with you'
your trinket and Nofegay, and receive from
"them all the comforts which they are able to
"beſtow."
66
Sophia would gladly have retired with her
fifter; fhe was grieved at the diſpleaſure ſhe had
incurred from her Mama; and fhe wifhed ear-
neftly to footh and comfort the dejected Fanny.
Mrs. Dormer, however, chofe that ſhe ſhould
be left alone, and Fanny was obliged to paſs
the night by herſelf. She then began to reflect
upon the happineſs which ſhe had known before
fhe went to vifit Lady Aubrey: ſhe was then
beloved by every one, every body met her with
a ſmile; all the fervants were ready to oblige
her, and all the neighbours loved her; now all
was changed, and no one, except Sophia, no, not
even her Mama, feemed to love her. At this
thought the wept bitterly. "And why am I not
beloved?"
H


1446
THE NOSEGAY
beloved?" faid fhe, " And why does every one › '
“ſhun me, at the very time that they are fo
"fond of my fifter? Alas! it is becauſe I am ¦ »
"not fo good as fhe." Fanny then thought of
the vexatious fituations into which ſhe had been: "*
brought by her vanity and pride. They had
caufed her to be fhunned not only by her infe-
riors, but by thoſe above her, and had made her w
generally hated or defpifed. Heartily afhamed
of her conduct, and grieved at its confequences,poj
the paffed the greatest part of the night in weep-n
ing, and refolving that the would again be good,ra
and again behave in fuch a manner as ſhould
make her beloved by all, and happy in herſelf.
Towards morning Fanny fell aſleep, and, as
fhe was much tired with lying awake fo long,
fhe flept till it was pretty late; the next day's
when he awoke, the inquired for her Mama,vor
and was refolved to afk her forgivenefs, and tog
inform her of her forrow for her paft faults, and y
her refolution to amend. She was informed
that Mrs. Dormer and Sophia were gone to thes
cottage, and had taken cloaths, and other new
ceffaries for the family, and had fent for a phy-
fician to attend the fick man. "Ah!" faid
fhe, "Sophia is happy, and the deferves to be
"fo, for fhe is good; I was not worthy to
•
have the pleaſure of going to the cottage,
but I will be good and happy too." She
then


THE NOSEGAY.
147
then rofe, and the first thing the faw was her
Nofegay, which the maid had carefully put into
za pot of water the night before. "This Nofe-t
દ gay," faid Fanny, "fhall be the conftant me-
"morial of my faults, and of my repentance."
She then reached her pallet, and making a beausand
tiful fketch of the almoft dying flowers, the
wrote under them in a large hand, Virtue never
fades, and placed the drawing in the moſt con-
fpicuous part of the room. When Mrs. Dormer
returned, fhe was ftruck with this elegant per-
formance, and calling for Fanny, had the de-
light of hearing from herſelf what had paſſed in
her mind during the paſt night, and her refolu-
tions of amendment. After fome time, during
which Fanny had entirely laid afide her haughty
behaviour, the indulgent Mrs. Dormer would
have removed the drawing that it might no
longer mortify her child; but Fanny begged it
might remain, and whenever the found herſelf
inclined to return to her former folly, fhe placed
herſelf before the picture, which foon became,
not merely the fhameful memorial of paft faults,
but the elegant monument of her return to virtue.
II 2
1
14
DESCRIP.
•


[ 148 ]
暴发
​"
DESCRIPTION OF THE TWO-HORNED
RHINOCEROS.
TH
9:
TH
HIS animal is found in Africa, chiefly about
the Cape of Good Hope, and is diftin-
guiſhed from the common or one-horned Rhi-
nocéros, as well as from all other beafts, by
having two horns upon its nofe, the larger of
which ftands foremoſt towards the muzzle or
fnout of the animal, the fhorter behind it, and
higher up towards the forehead. The foremost
horn grows almoft to the length of two feet, and
feven or eight inches thick at the bottom; the
hindmoft fometimes meaſures fo long as fixteen
inches, and proportionably thick. They are of
a conical ſhape, with the tips inclined fomewhat
backwards, but their fize does not always appear
to be in proportion to the body. This fpecies
of Rhinoceros is endued with prodigious ftrength,
and, though little inferior in fize to the Elephant,
and ſomewhat refembling it in its enormous un-
wieldy make, runs with aſtoniſhing ſwiftnefs. It
harbours amongſt cloſe thickets and bushy
copfes, from whence it comes forth in the cool
of the evening, to graze for the night. Its food
confifts of plants and roots, with the tops of
fhrubs, and ſmall branches of trees. The foots
it is ſuppoſed to dig up with the fmaller of its
horns, as this, efpecially in the older animals, is
moft


TWO-HORNED RHINOCEROS.
149
3
moft commonly obſerved to be worn away in
different parts, which is never the cafe in the
foremoſt and larger one. It is natural to ſuppoſe
that this latter is the offenfive weapon of the
animal, and is therefore never uſed in the fer-
vile employment of digging for its food, at
which time it is turned on one fide, out of the
= way; for thefe horns are faid to be fo loofe and
moveable, that when the Rhinoceros walks
careleſsly along, one may fee its horns dangle
about, and hear them clafh and clatter againſt
each other. The ſhrubs and plants, which alfo
compofe part of its food, it clips off with its
lips, not having any fore teeth for that purpoſe.
Indeed it has little room for them, as the mouth
goes off ſo ſharp at the fore part (fomething like
that of Tortoife) that it is only an inch and a
half-broad. Befides, it has no occafion for any
teeth there, the fkin which forms the lips being
of that extreme hardneſs, that it can perform
the office of teeth very well, and that with fo
much the greater eaſe, as the under jaw goes
within the upper.
@
The tongue is perfectly foft, which directly
bcontradicts the common notion that the Rhino-
ceros kills by licking with his tongue.
Notwithstanding the formidable bulk and
amazing ſtrength of this animal, which has been
known to run up to a waggon and carry it to a
G 3
confider-
P
་ ནཱ
F
J


150
TWO-HORNED RHINOCEROS.
+
confiderable diftance upon its fnout and horns,
the Hottentots and the Dutch farmers who live
in the inland parts round the Cape of Good
Hope, frequently attack and overpower. it. For
the purpoſe of ſhooting it they uſe balls made of
lead and tin mixt, and having found out its re-
tirement, they approach it on the fide oppofite
to that from which the wind blows. This pre-
caution is abfolutely neceffary on account of the
very acute, fmell and hearing with which the
animal is endued. At the leaſt noiſe more than
ufual, it takes the alarm, and erecting its ears,
ftands clapping with them and liſtening; and if
the hunter be fo imprudent as to get to the
windward of it, even at a great diſtance, it fel-
dom fails directly to follow him by the ſcent,
and attack him with the greateſt fury. Being
therefore pretty ſecure on the fide of the wind,
the Rhinoceros has the fagacity in general to
chufe, by way of entrenchment, a buſh very
thick, and high on that fide from whence it has
no fcent. If wounded it rufhes out from the
thickets into the plain, when the boldeſt ſportſ-
men prudently confult their fafety by flight. It
foon, however, turns afide, and if there be no
copfe convenient for its eſcape, makes off
ftraight forward over the plain: if they happen
to have hounds out with them, theſe purſue it,
and form a ftrong contraft to the coloffal fize of
the


TWO-HORNED RHINOCEROS.
151
the animal, which, however, feems not to take
the leaft notice of them. With a gentle rife
Land fall of the neck it keeps on an even ſteady
- courſe, a kind of pacing, which nevertheleſs gets
to over a great deal of ground: but this pace, on
hearing a few fhots fired after it, it alters to a
faft gallop, fo as in an inftant to leave the
hounds at a great diſtance behind; and, in
Lall probability, any ſportſman would inevitably
be loft, who fhould happen to become the ob-
ject of its purfuit, if he had not art enough to get
out of the fight and feent of it by fhifting and
dodging occafionally. In this particular the Rhi-
noceros is faid to reſemble the Elephant, that
without delaying or ftopping in the leaft, it will
run to the diftance of many leagues from the
place where it has been cloſely hunted, or in
any other way molefted.
The two-horned Rhinoceros fleeps in a dif-
ferent pofture from the Elephant: it lies down
on the ground on one fide, and withal is faid
to fleep fo found, that the Hottentots and Dutch
coloniſts frequently ſteal upon it while in that
fituation, and fhoot it; it differs very much in
this refpect from the common or one-horned
Rhinoceros, which is defcribed as by no means-
ja fleepy animal. If it happens not to die im-
mediately of its wounds, the Hottentot hunters-
will neverthelefs follow the traces of it for one
H 4
or


152
TWO-HORNED RHINOCEROS.
or more days, till it drops down with weakneſs
and fatigue. In general, however, they poiſon
one or two of their darts before they attack it,
in which cafe they have no occafion to wait fo
many days as they otherwife would before their
prey falls into their hands.
Fortunately for thoſe who attack the Rhino-
ceros, with all its keenneſs of finell and hearing,
it labours under the diſadvantage of being ex-
tremely near-fighted. In effect, its eyes are very
fmall and funk into its head, which is perhaps
the reaſon why it fees but indiſtinctly, and that
only ſtraight forward, fo as not even to perceive
a horfeman at the diſtance of fifty or fixty yards
upon the open plain, unleſs directed by its ſcent
or hearing to fix upon the object. Whenever,
therefore, it happens to receive a wound with-
out being able to difcover from what hand it
proceeds, this circumſtance feems to provoke it
to a greater degree of fury. Not knowing where,
to wreak its vengeance, it fwings the fore part;
of its body violently from one fide to the other,,
and ſnuffs up with its noftrils, as if endeavouring
to diſcover the enemy by its fmell. The noife.
which it makes with its nofe upon fuch occa-
fions is particularly terrible to the horfes of thofe
who are in chace of it; for when wounded, it
will fnuff and blow fo hard and fo loud as to
ftartle them, and make them uneafy, at the dif
diw
tance


TWO-HORNED RHINOCEROS.
153
tance of fome hundreds of yards. Indeed, in-
ftinct fufficiently informs the horſe of its danger,
when the Rhinoceros is nigh, not only by the
hearing but by the fiell alfo; for whenever the
fportímen approach its retreat, which is always
done againſt the wind, the horfes having the ad-
vantage of the breeze, are enabled to difcover
their tremendous enemy fo far off as forty or
fifty yards by the fmell; upon this they imme-
diately flop, and give evident proofs of terror
by their unwillingness to proceed any farther.
This animal is of a greyifh or afh colour, but,
which is very remarkable, feems to change its
hue, and become almoſt black upon being hard
hunted. This is owing probably to the duft and
dried mud that fticks to its fkin (as it is very
fond of rolling and wallowing in the mire) and
when moistened by fweat, becomes much darker
in colour. About the groin, however, where
the fkin is not fo thick as on the reft of the
body, and almoſt quite ſmooth, it is nearly the
colour of a man's flefh. On all other parts the
furface of the fkin is rough and knotty, and not
much differing from that of an Elephant, but of
a cloſer texture, and when it is dry extremely
hard. It has not, however, any of thofe plaits
and folds which are to be obſerved in the com-
mon deſcriptions and figures publiſhed of it, and
which give it the appearance of being covered
with
H 5.


3.154
TWO-HORNED RHINOCEROS.
with a harneſs.
The hide is an inch and a half
thick on the back, and fomewhat thicker on the
dfides, though lefs compact there. It is, how-
sever, by no means impenetrable, as has been
commonly fuppofed. Leaden balls, indeed, will
fooner be flattened againſt the fkin than pierce
it; but when they are hardened by a proper
2: mixture of tin, the Rhinoceros may be killed by
a fingle shot. Nay, its hide, as well as that of
the Elephant, is capable of being penetrated by
javelins and darts. A Hottentot, at the diſtance
of five or fix paces, has been known to pierce
through the hide of a Rhinoceros half a foct
deep into its body. Some have alſo imagined it
to poffefs no feeling in its fkin; but, befides
..what is mentioned of the common Rhinoceros,
that it is capable of being tickled under the belly
with a whiſp of ſtraw, the Two-horned Rhino-
ceros is fond (as was mentioned before) of wal-
lowing in the mire like a hog, which would
hardly be the cafe were its hide abfolutely in-
fenfible; and indeed, when the thick hide of an
Elephant is affected by the ftinging of flies, we
cannot fuppofe that of the Rhinoceros to be to-
tally deftitute of feeling. Its ſkin, though tough
and clofe in its texture, has, particularly about
the groin, veffels, blood, and juices, adapted for
the nouriſhment of infects; and, in effect, this
animal is found to be infeſted in that part with
a particular
3.
1
教
​


TWO-HORNED RHINOCEROS.
155
a particular ſpecies of infect; neither does the
thickness of its hide hinder it from perfpiring.
Lastly, the Rhinoceros here defcribed may be
faid to be totally deftitute of hair, though there
are a few ſcattered dark briftly hairs, about an
inch long, on the edges of the ears, with a very
few between and round about the horns, and at
the tip of the tail. This part of the animal is
about an inch thick, diminifhing by degrees from
the root to the tip, where it is flattened at the
fides; and on the edges, produced by this flat-
nefs, are to be feen fome ftrong ftiff hairs, an
inch or an inch and a balf in length. Such of
them as ftand towards the creature's hard and
rough body are vifibly worn down and ſtunted.
Of the inward parts of this animal, it is fuffi
cient to obferve, that its flesh, when dreffed;
taftes a good deal like pork, but much coarfer.
Its brains are leſs than thofe of a middle-fized
man; like the horſe, it has no gall; its entrails
alſo moſt reſemble thofe of a horſe: ſo that this
beaft, notwithſtanding its being furniſhed with
horns, does by no means belong to the clafs of
thofe which chew the cud, but rather of thofe
whofe fat is of a foft nature like lard, and not
hard like tallow. The ftomach, however, does
not bear the leaſt reſemblance to that of a horſe,
but rather to that of a man or hog; and the
contents of it, when opened, after the animal has
H.6
been
7


155
THE THREE BROTHERS..
been lately killed, are ufually without ſmell, and
perfectly fresh and ſweet, conſiſting of roots and
fmall branches of trees chewed, fome of them as.
big as the end of a man's finger; and of fuccu-
lent plants, the whole diffufing around a very
ftrong and not difagreeable aromatic odour.
THE THREE BROTHERS.
EUG
UGENE, Richard, and Caffander, were the
fons of Mr. Smithſon, a reputable mer-
chant in the north of England, who having no
other children befides them, and being in pretty
affluent circumftances, refolved to have them
educated immediately under his own eye. For
this purpoſe he invited into his houſe a Mr.
Markham, a gentleman of learning and approv
ed morals, to be their tutor, whofe care and at-
tention to their improvement afterwards, fully
anfwered all his expectations.
Thefe Three Brothers, from their earlieſt in-
fancy, were playmates and companions. They
had never been fent out of their father's houſe,
either to nurſe or even to a ſchool; as Mrs.
Smithſon, their mother, whofe education ren-
dered her perfectly equal to the taſk, undertook
to put them through the firft rudiments of learn-
ing, and to prepare them for whatever ſtudies
a tutor
ܐ


THE THREE BROTHERS.
157
a tutor might afterwards direct them to. Whe-
ther it was their conftant fociety from their ear-
lieft childhood; in the courfe of which, notwith-
ſtanding the difference of two years, between
the age of Caffander and that of Eugene, each
ſhared invariably in the ftudies as well as the
amufements of the other two; or whether it
was the natural bent of their difpofitions, I know
not, but they were remarkable for bearing to-
wards each other a degree of affection that is
rarely to be found amongst brothers in general.
In their sports they were infeparable; the ine-
quality of their number was never an obftacle to
their all partaking of the fame paſtime, though
it might originally have been intended but for
two; and notwithſtanding there would now and
then arife a trifling diſpute amongst them con-
cerning their play, all differences were ufually
fettled and reconciled before the conclufion of
the game, fo that they never parted from each
other in a pet; but, on the contrary, after they
were tired of play, it was no uncommon thing
to fee them linked all three arm in arm, faun-
tering up and down the garden walks, which were
commonly the ſcene of their amufements; and
in that friendly attitude communicating to each
other their little fancies, difcuffing the remark-
able ftories that occurred in the courfe of their
J
L leffons,


158
THE THREE BROTHERS.
1
וי
leffons, or elfe laying their heads together to
plan and ſtrike out fome new mode of diverfion.
Thus agreeing, and unanimous in all things,
they entered with pleaſure upon the courfe of
ſtudy laid down to them by Mr. Markham, their
Mrs. Smithfon had never, while her fons
were under her care, made their leffons a painful
tutor.
or


THE THREE BROTHERS.
159
1
or diſagreeable tafk; the novelty, therefore, of
Mr. Markham's firft examination, under whom
they found that they were to learn both Latin
and Greek, fo charmed and delighted them, that
they all three jumped for joy when their Papa
fhewed them three Lilly's Grammars, which
they were to begin the next day. Befides, their
fatisfaction at not being obliged to leave their
dear parents, nor to be feparated from each other,
might not a little contribute to the alacrity they
fhewed on this occafion. In effect, the quick-
nefs of their progrefs furprized and delighted Mr.
Markham, their prefent tutor, as well as their
former one, that is their Mama, to whom they
would run every day in raptures of joy to com-
municate the contents of their feveral leffons.
*
Hitherto we have feen Eugene, Richard, and
Caffander, perfectly alike and equal in all things;
it is neceffary now to fhew in what refpects they
were unlike, and how the particular character
and difpofition of each, though leading to ac-
tions extremely different from what the others
would purfue, yet always uniformly concurred
in the exertion of that amiable principle, bro-
therly love.
Eugene, therefore, with much generofity, and
fomething of fire in his compofition, was at the
fame time a little arch, or what is called wag-
gith. His pranks, in general, were the moft in
nocent
J.


160
THE THREE BROTHERS.
nocent in the world, it is true, and he could fay
at leaſt that he never meant to hurt: if, however,
it would fometimes happen, which after all was
feldom the caſe, that any of his little jokes coſt
either of his brothers a tear, that tear, it was eaſy
to be feen, gave Eugene infinitely more pain
than any he himſelf fhed: but the open frank-
nefs and ardent good nature with which he would
confole his weeping brother, feldom failed to
dry it up in a moment. He would never juſtify
his own miſtakes nor his aukwardnefs; and thus
he feldom felt the reproaches of his companions,
becauſe they always found him ready to fubmit
to them candidly, and, whenever it ſo happened,
to own himſelf in fault.
Richard, on the other hand, was all fimpli-
city he had not the leaſt ſhadow of defign in
him; and were it not for the extraordinary ap-
prehenfion that he fhewed in his learning, in
which he outstripped both his brothers, he might
be faid not to have a thought of his own, Thus
Richard, though as cheerful as the day, feldom
laughed unleſs Eugene or Caffander led the joke. -
He never propoſed a new fort of play, or in-
vented a freſh plaything, but always was ready,
with the greateſt good humour, to join in the
one or admire the other, if offered to his atten-
tion by either of his brothers. He might even
be faid to have no wants or likings of his
own,


THE THREE BROTHERS.
161
own, but as they put him in mind of them. If
Eugene faid to the maid, "Molly, I want to go.
to bed;" Richard would add, "fo do I too.".
If Caffander faid, "Mama, pray give me a piece
"of bread and butter," Richard, if prefent,
would commonly join, "Aye, and me too."-
And this difpofition of Richard was the happieſt
in the world, for preferving the friendſhip of the
Three Brothers; fince, whatever advantage or
fuperiority he might have in his learning, all his
amuſements, all the pleafure that he enjoyed.
from fociety, depended wholly on Eugene and
Caffander.
This laft was neither fo volatile as his elder.
brother, nor fo fimple as Richard: he had fome-
thing grave even in his countenance, and though
youngest of the three, was allowed to be much
the moſt prudent; by which means he balanced,
as it were, the oppofite defects of his brothers,
and frequently would act as their adviſer and
cenfor, by reproving Eugene for his too great
vivacity, which led him fo often into fcrapes,
and Richard for his thoughtleſs abfence and ex-
treme credulity. But though he ſometimes took
this freedom, it was always with the greateſt
tenderneſs, being accuſtomed from his infancy
to treat his elders with refpect, particularly his
brothers. Indeed, a refpect for their elders and
fuperiors Mrs. Smithſon took early care to incul
cate


162
THE THREE BROTHERS.
4
Richard
+
cate on the minds of all her children.
was commanded to yield in every thing to Eu-
gene, and Caffander to Richard; and all three to
behave with proper deference to thoſe who were
more advanced in life than themfelves. This
injunction had a good effect more ways than
one it prevented any childiſh contefts for the
preference, as each knew and was contented
with his own rank, and always waited his pro-
per turn. Befides, it made them behave with
good manners to ftrangers, let their condition
in life be what it will; nor was any one of them
ever known to ſpeak or act with petulance even
to a beggar.
1
After remaining a competent time under the
inftruction of Mr. Markham, it was their fa-
ther's pleaſure that they fhould all three enter
the Univerſity together, and purſue their ftudies
there, in order to qualify themſelves for what-
ever of the learned profeffions they might after-
wards chufe. This circumftance gave them in-
finite pleaſure. The love that they bore to each
other while children, was now ripening into a
fteady, ardent friendſhip, which no time could
alter or diminish; and they faw before them a
profpect of being happy in each other's fociety
during the whole courfe of their lives. But hu-
man events are uncertain, and the ſhades of mis-
fortune often intervene unexpectedly to chequer
the


THE THREE BROTHERS.
163
F
}
the most equal and placid funſhine of profpe-
rity. Mr. Smithſon was ftill in trade, and there-
fore liable to accidents and croffes which mer-
chants frequently experience. It happened, in
the beginning of the war, that two fhips, con-
taining property of his to a very confiderable
amount, uninfured, were taken by the enemy.
The deficiency produced in his capital by this
misfortune, joined to feveral other ſmaller loffes,
obliged Mr. Smithſon to become a bankrupt;
after which, conceiving a diftafte to his native
place, he determined to take a voyage to the
Weft-Indies, in order to look after an eftate in
land, which had been bequeathed him as a le-
gacy by fome diftant relation fince the time of
his failure. At his departure, not judging it ex-
pedient to take his wife along with him, he left
her a ſmall fum of ready money, but promiſed
to fend over remittances whenever the property,
of which he went to take poffeffion, could be
turned to any account.
Our Three Brothers were inconfolable at part-
ing with their father: this was the firft time in
their lives that they might be faid to feel the
grief of abfence from their beloved parents; for
while at College they could hardly be called ab-
fent from home, as they converfed weekly, nay,
almoſt daily, by letters, either with Mr. or Mrs.
Smithfon.
•


164
THE THREE BROTHERS.
Smithfon. But their forrow was confiderably in-
creaſed, when, after two years had elapſed with-
out any tidings from their father, they received
a melancholy epiftle from Mrs. Smithfon, in-
forming them of her utter inability to maintain
them any longer at College, and requeſting their
immediate return, in order to confult how they
fhould difpofe of themfelves for their future fet-
tlement in life.
During the laſt two years that they had ſpent
´at the Univerſity, nothing but the ſtricteſt œco-
nomy, on the part of the Brothers, as well as
that of their indulgent parent, could have en-
abled them to fubfift; yet, notwithſtanding the
general diffipation of the place, their temperance
and frugality did not hinder them from fupport-
ing an amiable character, and being highly
efteemed by all who knew them. They were
remarked for an obliging, affable demeanour,
an unexceptionable attention to their College
duties, but particularly for the ftri&t intimacy and
happy degree of unanimity which they always
appeared to maintain. They were, indeed di-
ftinguished by the title of The Three Brothers;
and the wits of the place fpoke of them as an
exception to that remark of the poet,
7
Friendship, like love, is but a name,
Unles to one you fint the flame.
However,


THE THREE BROTHERS.
165
However, there was a confiderable difference in
their difpofitions, which, without the leaft im-
pairing their affection, grew every day more and
more confpicuous. Eugene was now ambitious,
enterprizing, and changeable; his parts were ra-
ther brilliant than folid. Caffander, on the con-
trary, was fteady in his opinions and refolutions,
which he built on the foundeſt and moſt mature
reflection: he appeared more flow in apprehend-
ing the difficulties of ſcience than his elder bro-
ther; but, in return, his memory was more faith-
ful and retentive, and whatever knowledge he
once made his own was ever after at his com
mand; for, as Mr. Pope elegantly obſerves,
Where beams of warm imagination play,
The memory's foft figures melt away.
Richard was a fort of medium between theſe op-
pofites: with ſomething of Eugene's vivacity and
the


166
THE THREE BROTHERS.
the ſteadineſs of Caffander, he had an ardent and
infatiable thirft of knowledge; in effect, he had
recommended himſelf ſo powerfully to his fupe-
riors, by the extent and ſplendour of his attain--
ments, that he was, at this very time of Mrs.
Smithſon's writing for him and his brothers,
pointed out to a nobleman, equally reſpectable
for his rank and principles, as a proper perſon to
be private tutor to his Lordſhip's two fons, who
were lately entered at the Univerſity.
At their return therefore, upon the fummons
of their mother, when ſhe laid before them the
melancholy ſtate of their affairs, the diſappoint-
ment of their expectations, and, to crown all,
the dreadful apprenfions that the entertained of
the lofs of her huſband, either at fea or by the
cafualties of war, concluding with the tendereft
advice to them, to unite their efforts towards the
re-eſtabliſhing of their circumſtances by a ſteady
courſe of induſtry, in whatever profeffions they
might adopt: upon this occafion it was that the
advantages of fuperior application and a more
rapid progreſs in learning appeared confpicuous.
While Eugene and Caffander endeavoured to
comfort Mrs. Smithſon by the ſtrongeſt affur-
ances of their future diligence, and the exertion
of their induſtry in fome line or other that might
afford themfelves and her a decent maintenance,
Richard had the happineſs of being able to make
ta d
1
his


THE THREE BROTHERS.
167
his mother and brothers the immediate tender
of a ſmall competency from the falary which
his noble patron was to allow him, who only
waited for his anfwer to inveſt him with the care
of his children's education. This profpect was a
ſeaſonable relief to Mrs. Smithfon from the de-
ſpondency into which the preſent gloom of her
affairs had thrown her. It is true, the iron hand
of want had not as yet begun to pinch her and
her children, but the near approach of that un-
welcome vifitor (without fuch a refource as Ri-
chard now fuggefted) was fufficient to fill her
mind with the moſt melancholy ideas and dif-
mal prefages of adverfity and diſtreſs.
*
Now, therefore, at length, by the irreſiſtible
decree of neceffity, were our Three Brother's
obliged to part, and take different walks on the
vaft theatre of life. Richard, returning to the v
Univerſity, attached himſelf with ſo much fuc- 31
ceſs to the education of his noble pupils, and to
his own improvement, that, beſides being able
for the prefent to contribute to the comforts of
his mother, and thofe whom he held moft dear 1
next to her, he had the profpect before him of N
obtaining an ample fettlement in the church, o
through the intereſt of his munificent patron,»
whofe favour he enjoyed in as full a meafure as lo
his numerous good qualities entitled him to its
Eugene having procured recommendations to abid
merchant
$


168
THE THREE BROTHERS
merchant in London, repaired thither, and, ap
plying himſelf fteadily to bufinefs, in the courfe
of four years gave fuch proofs of his integrity
and other good qualifications, that he was taken
by the merchant into partnerſhip. Caffander,
in the mean time, fearing to become a burthen
on the moderate penfion that Richard allowed
his mother, embraced the offer of a Newcaſtle
trader, who, having formerly been an intimate
friend of Mr. Smithfon's, agreed to take Caffan-
der a voyage to the Eaft country upon trial.
Caffander was ftill but young, being no more
than fixteen at the time of his entering upon a
fea life, and after his voyage of trial, he pru-
dently made it his choice, in preference to wait-
ing for the uncertain chance of fome more bril-
liant eſtabliſhment. In effect, what with the ad-
vantage of an excellent education, a patient and
humane difpofition, and the uncommon character
(for a ſeaman) of being remarkably fober and
frugal, he in a very few years fo improved him-
ſelf in the knowledge of trade and navigation,
that he was appointed mate of a veffel trading
to Ruffia, the owners of which were fo well-
pleaſed with his activity and good conduct, that
they were determined, notwithſtanding his youth,
to fend him out mafter of one of their fhips the
firft opportunity that offered.
Thus, for fome years after the feparation of
the


THE THREE BROTHERS.
169
•
the Three Brothers, fortune feemed to recom-
pence the fevere lofs that they had felt in the
perſon of their father, concerning whom, all
this time, notwithſtanding every poffible en-
quiry, not the ſmalleſt intelligence had been
received. But now, alas! once more, forrow
and adverfity came hand in hand to diſquiet the
feeling hearts of our three youths, by an hour
of trial fuch as they had never yet experienced.
The news of their mother's death was the fe-
vere prelude to their misfortunes. Richard
had ſcarcely recovered the ſhock of this, when
the death of his patron totally diffipated all the
flattering hopes that he had formed of fortune
and preferment in the church, in which he had
already taken orders. Eugene, and his partner
had for fome time felt their affairs in a critiaal
condition; but this did not hinder him from
exerting his native generofity in the ſervice of
an ancient friend. Indeed, the voice of friend-
ſhip and gratitude always met with a favourable
hearing from Eugene, let their fummons be
ever fo preffing and importunate. His old tu-
tor, Mr. Markham, under whom he and his
brothers had ſpent ſome of the happieſt years of
their life, was at this time in London. Diſabled
by fickneſs and infirmity, advancing faſt towards
helpleſs old age, and forely galled by poverty
and the neglect of the world, he was almoſt
I
without
CO


170
THE THREE BROTHERS.
without a friend. In this crifis, chance threw
his generous pupil in his way, who amply fup-
Cb L
-935
SVOLA
-re
30 42
plied the place of one to him. Befides furniſh-
ing him with the means of fupplying his prefent
neceffity, Eugene, and by his perſuaſion his part-
ner, became fecurity for the payment of a very
confiderable debt, which was on the point of
configning Mr. Markham to a gaol, where he
might probably have paffed the remainder of his
life. But how ill did fortune requite Eugene for
this friendly action! Mr. Markham died in leſs
than three months after, when of courſe the
debt devolved upon thofe who had given fe-
curity for him. Immediately upon the heels of
this misfortune followed another. The affairs
of Eugene's partnerſhip growing defperate, they
were obliged to declare themſelves bankrupt,
and this very kindneſs which he fhewed Mr.
Markham
B


THE THREE BROTHERS.
171
?
14
Markham was reckoned among the misfortunes
that contributed to his ruin. The fhock that
Eugene's fpirits fuffered upon this occafion, as
he found himſelf now unable to fulfil engage-
ments which he looked upon as facred, drove
him from one act of raſhneſs and deſpair to an-
other, till in the end, reduced to extremity of
went, in an obfcure country place, he madly
and precipitately threw himſelf among a com-
pany of travelling players, and, to crown all, in
this unpromifing ſtate of life, being barely able
to fubfift himſelf, he had the defperate impru-
dence to marry.
It ſeems he had formed a
flight acquaintance with a young lady (the
daughter of a clergyman, who was fo ftruck with
*his figure and accompliſhments, that the yielded
to his folicitations to be united with him in the
:ties of clandeftine wedlock, thereby utterly for-
feiting all her expectations of fortune, together
2 with the friendſhip of every one of her rela-
tions. The confequences of this unadviſed ſtep,
2 which brought poverty and her train into Eu-
gene's habitation, in fhapes unknown before, he
- bore with as much fortitude and philofophy as
: ufually falls to the ſhare of five and twenty, that
is, with very little, if any at all. Some time be-
fore this, Caffander, who had made two or three
voyages for his north-country' owners, was in-
wited to London by his brother and his partner,
1 2
to


172
THE THREE BROTHERS.
to take the command of one of the large fhips
in which they were principal proprietors. Over-
joyed at this invitation, which would give him
an opportunity, or rather indeed lay him under
the neceffity, of being frequently with his bro-
ther while on fhore, he came to town with all
fpeed, and was just time enough to be witneſs
to the unfortunate failure of Eugene and his af-
fociate in trade.
Thus were the Three Brothers plunged into
circumſtances of the moſt helpleſs diſtreſs, juft
at a time when they entertained hopes (appa-
rently well founded) of fixing themſelves to
their fatisfaction for life in their refpective pro-
feffions. Had any one of them been exempt
from the preffure of misfortune, the other two
would have been fure of partaking with him
in the comforts that depend on a competency
of wealth. But all three were equally reduced;
and the only remnant of happineſs, that they
could call their own, was the fenfe of their
mutual affection, which ſtill continued unalter-
able, amidſt the moft pinching trials of difap-
pointment and calamity. In this fituation were
the Smithſons, when an incident happened
which put that affection to the proof, and
brought forth inftances of felf-denial and gene-
rofity that well deferve to be recorded. In the
courfe of Eugene's wanderings as a country
player,
Cane


THE THREE BROTHERS.
173
player, fortune conducted him to Gravesend,
where, as he was exhibiting before an audience,
chiefly compoſed of ſeafaring people, the fame
fortune unaccountably led his father to become
a fpectator of his performance. In order to ex-
plain the fudden appearance of Mr. Smithſon,
it will be neceffary to relate what befel him after
his departure from England. The reader will
remember that this gentleman had fet fail for
the Weft Indies, in order to take poffeffion of
an eſtate in one of the islands there; but, hav-
ing pretty early intelligence that the enemy
were mafters of the island, and therefore appre-
hending numberlefs obftacles to his obtaining
clear and quiet poffeffion of the eftate; he
formed the immediate reſolution of getting out,
if poffible, to the Eaft Indies, where he trufted
that, by his general knowledge of trade, he
fhould in a fhort time be able to retrieve his
fhattered circumftances, and return to his native
country with a fortune fufficient to render the
remaining years of his life eafy and comfortable.
At the fame time he took another refolution
(the fource of infinite grief and difquiet to his
family), which was, never to inform them of
the place of his retirement until he had gained
wealth fufficient to releaſe them from the ſtate
of indigence and obfcurity into which, he was
perfuaded, his abſence muſt have plunged them.
舅
​I
}
I 3
This
3


174
THE THREE BROTHERS,
This object he amply accompliſhed in ten years,
during all which time his family confidered him
as dead; and at the end of that period he was
now returning to fhare his riches with thoſe
whom he held moſt dear; when the firſt fight
that faluted his eyes after he went on fhore was
his unfortunate fon figuring in the humble pro-
feffion of a ftroller. It is impoffible to exprefs
the rage, forrow, and diſappointment, which at
once took poffeffion of Mr. Smithſon's breaſt,
when he was at length convinced that his eyes
and ears did not deceive him. He fuddenly
left the theatre, or rather barn, before the play
was half over, and taking no farther notice of
his fon than to leave a note directed for him,
and filled with the bittereft reproaches, he hur→
ried on board the ſhip. Upon his arrival in
London, finding his anxious wiſhes and all the
projects of his affection difconcerted by his eldeſt
fon's imprudence; his next care was to make
inquiry about Richard and Caffander; for his
wife's death he had been informed of by mere
accident a fhort time before he left India.
Richard he foon found out, who, upon the firſt
fummons, flew to embrace his long loft parent,
Mr. Smithſon, after briefly relating to him the
circumſtances of his voyage to and ſucceſs in the
East Indies, began bitterly to lament his misfor
Itune in having a fon fo abandoned to modefty
avat as
and


THE THREE BROTHERS.
175
and difcretion, as he ftyled the unfortunate Eu-
gene. He added, that the bulk of the fortune
which he had realized abroad, he intended now
to divide between his two younger fons, the
elder having proved himſelf fo unworthy of his
favour: that he did not mean to keep them in
expectation until his death, but would put each
of them in immediate poffeffion of an ample
fortune; reſerving for himſelf what he was de→
termined ſhould be fufficient for his neceffities
during the remainder of his life. He concluded
with infifting, that whatever he meant thus to
difpofe in favour of his younger fons, he would
take care to fee fettled in fuch a manner, that
neither Eugene nor his poſterity ſhould ever in-
herit a penny of it.
45
Richard modeftly thanked his father for the
affectionate care that he teftified for his intereft,
but tenderly intreated him not to form too pre
cipitate a refolution to the prejudice of his eldeſt
born. He uſed many arguments to excufe, or
at leaſt to palliate Eugene's indiſcretion; repre-
fented the forrowful effects that a continuance
of his father's refentment might have upon a
mind fo exquifitely feeling as his; and ended
with thefe words: "As to what regards my
own perfonal advantage, I affure you, Sir, I
"feel myſelf naturally very indifferent; and
were I hot fo by nature, the profeffion that I'
I 4
❝ have


176
THE THREE BROTHERS.
*have embraced, the precepts of which I have
"with my whole heart confented to obey, that
"profeffion commands me to fix my thoughts
" and expectations upon matters of a far dif-
ferent nature. Befides, had I the moft worldly
"regard for my own intereft, the affection that
"I have ever borne, and ftill bear to my bro-
"ther Eugene, would ftand as a bar to my ac-
"cepting any fortune to which he had the moſt
diftant claim. I am not without hopes, my
dear father, that when your preſent anger
fubfides, you will once more look upon him
"with the tenderneſs of a parent, in which cafe
you will, I truft, applaud the principle that
"induces me to decline your liberal offer."
Mr. Smithfon, with aſtoniſhment in his counte-
nance, aſked his fon if he was ſerious in refufing
fo handfome a fortune; and finding him fixed in
the determination that he had before expreffed,
he roſe up with evident marks of vexation and
diſappointment; and cafting fome uncharitable
reflections on the deſtiny which, he faid, purfued
him through life, baffling and fruftrating the moſt
favourite and even laudable wishes of his heart,
he added in a tone of voice, fomewhat foftened,
"Little did I expect, when I fent for you, to
"find you an abettor of that profligacy which
"has alienated my heart from your elder bro
"ther. I fondly thought that my children
"would
86
66


THE THREE BROTHERS.
177
"would pay fuch deference to my authority as
"even to adopt my prejudices; but fince you.
"have determined to think for yourſelf, be your
"own maſter. Thank Heaven, I have yet one
"fon left." Richard endeavoured in the moft
refpectful manner, to reprefent the motives of
his conduct, but perceiving that whatever he ſaid
only tended to irritate his father, and that it was
impoffible, for the prefent, to obtain a calm
hearing, he reluctantly withdrew, leaving his fa
ther in a fituation not to be envied by a parent.
Nothing could arrive more opportunely to re-
lieve the depreffion of Mr. Smithfon's fpirits,
than the news that he heard next morning;
which was, that a fhip, in which Caffander had
gone out in the capacity of a mate, after the
failure of Eugene, was returned from her voyage
in the river. His refentment was now not only
pointed at Eugene for his indifcretion, but at
Richard for his too fcrupulous, uncomplying
principles. He was therefore determined to
beſtow his whole fortune upon Caffander. But
what language can exprefs the amazement of
Mr. Smithſon, when, upon his propofing to do
fo, the generous feaman, without the leaft he--
fitation or preamble, flatly refuſed to accept a
penny of it! He thought, however, that reſpect
to his father required him to give the reaſons on
which he grounded his refufal. He did fo; and
1.5
with


478
THE THREE BROTHERS,
66.
with arguments nearly the fame as thoſe uſed
by his brother Richard, he endeavoured to con-
vince his father that paffion had a much greater
fhare than mature deliberation in the fentence
which he was going to paſs upon his eldeſt ſon:
We are all liable to go aftray," faid Caf-
fander: happy is he who has the feweſt faults.
“If we do not forgive thoſe of a ſon, or a bro-
ther, Heaven help us when our own come to
be judged! As for me, I have lived contented
"with a little, and am not unacquainted with
"hardship and diftrefs. God forbid, therefore,
"that I ſhould grafp at my brother's birth-right.
as -But I declare, were Eugene no brother of
"mine, knowing as I do his generous nature
and the warmth of his honeft heart, I would
"go before the maft all my life long, fooner
than accept, to his prejudice, a property
"which nature and reafon fo clearly adjudge to
him.'
""
There was fomething fo ingenuous in this
addrefs of Caffander's, fomething that ſpoke fo
feelingly to his father's breaſt, that, in ſpite of a
fhort conflict which refentment endeavoured to
excite there, he found himſelf conftrained to
yield the point, and while he wiped away a tear,
the offspring of returning tenderneſs and affee-
tion, he took his fon by the hand: "Caf-
"fander,"


THE THREE BROTHERS.
179
fander," faid he, fmiling, "thou haft con-
quered. Surely there muſt be fomething of
extraordinary merit in Eugene, finde he has
found two fo refolute advocates in his favour
as you and your brother Richard. Well, I
"forgive all the paft-it fhall be buried in ob-
livion. Convince me, as I doubt not you
will, that my eldeſt fon poffeffes qualities
worthy to excite fuch fentiments as you have
"both expreffed in his favour, and I fhall be
"happy indeed.”
It is needleſs to add, that the joy produced by
this favourable change in Mr. Smithfon's feel-
ings was foon diffuſed to the breafts of his two
difconfolate fons. Eugene, upon the receipt of
his father's note, had hurried up to town from
Gravefend, like one diftracted, and was now at
Richard's lodgings, indulging the moſt paffionate-
effufions of grief and deſpair; while Richard, de-
preffed with a load of forrows, fat moping in
filence, without a word of comfort to offer to his
brother. They hardly perceived Caffander en-
ter the room; but when he met their eyes, they
ftarted as at the fight of an angel. Something
prophetic whiſpered comfort to their minds even.
before he ſpoke. But how full was the meaſure
of their joy when he announced to them his
father's invitation to repair immediately to his
pre
:
I 6
GEA
66:
66


180
COURAGE INSPIRED
4
H
prefence! The fequel is eafy to be imagined:
all was reconciled: the paft was forgotten, and
the future opened a profpect of happinefs before.
them more fmiling than they had ever enjoyed
before.
Thus the Brothers, by the efforts of their
mutual affection, increaſed the happineſs that
profperity afforded them, fuftained each other,
under the preffure of misfortune, and, by per-
fevering in unalterable friendſhip to each other,
at length enfured both their own happineſs and
that of their deareft and firſt friend on earth-
their Father.
-
COURAGE INSPIRED BY FRIENDSHIP.
Two
WO failors, a Frenchman named Robert,
and a native of Spain, called Antonio,
were flaves to the fame mafter at Algiers.
Friend-


BY FRIENDSHIP.
181
•
Friendſhip is the only confolation of perſons in
diftrefs. Antonio and Robert happily enjoyed.
this confolation-they communicated to each
other their mutual griefs; they converfed per-
petually about their families, their countries,
and of the exquifite delight which the recovery-
of their liberty, ſhould it ever be granted to their
wiſhes, would afford them. Their conferences
always ended in a flood of affectionate tears, and
this expanfion of their hearts enabled them both
to ſupport the hard labour, which was their daily
lot, with uncommon fortitude.
The taſk appointed them was the conftruction
of a road on the top of a cliff which overhung
the fea. One morning the Spaniard, refting
for a moment from his toil, and caſting an anxi-
ous look on the fea, "My friend," faid he, "all
"my vows, all my hopes, are directed towards
"the oppofite bounds of that vaſt liquid plain ;
why can I not, in company with the partner
"of my woes, attain thoſe happy fhores? My
"wife, my children, are ever before my eyes,
eagerly longing for my arrival, or bitterly la-
"menting my ſuppoſed death." Antonio per-
petually indulged himſelf in theſe gloomy re-
flections, and every day that he was fummoned
to his work on the cliff, he turned his eyes to the
ocean, and regretted the fatal expanſe which
ſeparated him from his friends and his country.
66
It


182
COURAGE INSPIRED
* It chanced that one day a Chriſtian ſhip ap-
peared at anchor not very diftant from the ſhore.
"There, friend," cried the Spaniard, do you
"fee that veffel? She brings us life and liberty.
"Though the will not touch here, (for every
one avoids thefe barbarous coafts,) yet'to-
"morrow if you chufe it, Robert, our woes
"fhall end, and we will be free! Yes, to-
"morrow that fhip will pafs within a league of
the fhore, and we will plunge into the fea
"from this rock, or periſh in the attempt; for
"even death is preferable to this cruel flavery."
• If you can fave yourſelf," replied Robert, "I
fhall fupport my unhappy lot with greater re-
fignation. You know Antonio, how dear you
"are to me; my friendſhip for you will only
"terminate with my life. I have only one
favour to aſk of you; endeavour to find out
"my father-If grief for my lofs, and old age,
have not already deſtroyed. him, tell him"-
"What do you mean?". anſwered Antonio;
"I feek your father!And do you think I
could live happily a fingle moment with the
❝idea of having left you in chains ?" "But I
›❝ cannot - ſwim," cried Robert; " and you
"know""I know that I have the ſtrongeſt
friendſhip for you," replied the Spaniard, em-
bracing him, and fhedding tears of affection:
"friendſhip will give me redoubled ſtrength:
you
¢¢


BY FRIENDSHIP.
183
1
* you fhall hold up my belt, and we will both
"fave ourſelves." In vain did Robert repreſent
the danger there would be of his periſhing him-
felf, and dragging his preferver down with him
to deſtruction; nothing could overcome the re-
folution of Antonio. "We will both eſcape, or
both perish together," he cried.
"But we
draw the attention of our favage keepers;
“even fome of our companions would be baſe
enough to betray us-Farewel, I hear the bell
"that calls us from our work; we muſt ſepa-
"rate; farewel till to-morrow!"
66
They now returned to their dungeon.-An-
tonio was wrapped up in the idea of his project :
he fancied he had already paffed the Mediterra-
nean, and was in the arms of his friends, his
wife, and his children. But Robert formed to
himſelf a very different picture: he faw his
friend falling a victim to his own generofity, and
dragged by him to the bottom of the ſea, and
periſhing by that means, when, if he had only
confulted his own fafety, he might have pre-
ſerved himſelf,, and been restored to the boſom
of his family, who moſt probably were continu-
ally lamenting his lofs. "No," faid the un-
fortunate Frenchman to himſelf, "I will not
give way to the folicitations of Antonio; I
"will not repay fo generous a friendſhip by be-
ing the cauſe of his death. He will be free.
"My
66
46
•


184
COURAGE INSPIRED
"My unhappy father will at leaſt learn that I
"am alive, and that my affection for him is
"unabated. Alas! I could wish to be the fup-
"port and confolation of his age. He wanted
my affiftance-perhaps he is now perifhing in
poverty, and wishing to fee and embrace his
"fon. However, if Antonio is happy, I fhall
"die with lefs regret."
1
66
The flaves were not taken from their prifon
the next morning at the ufual hour. The Spa-
niard was all impatience, while Robert was in
doubt whether he ſhould rejoice or grieve at the
difappointment. At length they were called to
their labour, but they could not ſpeak to each
other, for their mafter went with them. An-
tonio could only look at Robert and figh. Some-
times he caft his eyes towards the fea, and
could hardly fupprefs his emotions. At length
night arrives, and they find themſelves alone.
"Let us feize this opportunity," cries the Spa--
niard, "Come !" "No," replies the other::
my friend I never will confent to endanger
your life: Farewel, Antonio! I embrace
66 you for the laft time. Save yourſelf, I con-
jure you; you have no time to lofe. Re-
"member our friendship. I only request you
"to remember your promife in regard to my fa-
"ther. He must be very old, and much in dif-
"trefs; go and confole him. If he ſhould want
"affift-
66
66
66


BY FRIENDSHIP.
185
9
"affiftance, I am fure, my friend" At theſe
words the voice of Robert failed-he fhed a tor-
rent of tears-his bofom was torn with anguiſh.
"You weep, Robert," fays Antonio: "it is not
"tears, but courage, that we now want: refift
"no longer; a moment's delay may ruin us;
"we may never have the opportunity again;
"either deliver yourſelf to my direction, or I
"will dash my head againſt thoſe rocks."
1
The Frenchman threw himſelf at the feet of
the generous Spaniard: he ftill repreſented the
hazard of the attempt, and pointed out the in-
evitable danger that muft attend his refolution of
endeavouring to preferve him. Antonio made
no reply, but catching him in his arms, he ran
to the edge of the precipice, and plunged with
him into the fea. At first they both funk; but,
rifing to the furface, Antonio exerted all his
force, and ſwimming himſelf, kept Robert alfo
above the water, who feemed to refufe his af
fiftance, and to fear left he fhould involve him
in his own deftruction.
H
The people in the fhip were ftruck with an
object which they could not well diſtinguiſh.
They thought it was fome fea-monfter that ap-
proached the veſſel. Their curiofity was now
called another way; they ſaw a boat leave the
ſhore, and haftily purfue what ſeemed to them a
monftrous fea animal. Theſe were the foldiers.
who
1


186
COURAGE INSPIRED
1
who guarded the flaves, and who were anxious
to overtake Antonio and Robert. The laft. faw
them approach, and, cafting his eyes on his
friend, and perceiving that he grew weak, he
made an effort, and got loofe from Antonio, fay-
ing to him at the fame time, "We are purſued.
"Save yourſelf, and let me perifh; I only retard
66 your courfe." He had hardly finiſhed theſe
words when he funk. A new tranſport of friend-
ſhip animates the Spaniard; he darts towards
the Frenchman, and ſeizing him as he is juft
ready to expire, they both difappeared.
The boat, uncertain which way to purfue,
ftopped, while another was fent from the veffel
to diſcover what the object was which they had
ſeen. The waves began to grow rough; at laſt
they diſcovered two men, the one ſupporting the
other, and trying to reach the veffel. They row-
ed to them as faſt as poffible, and came up with
them juft as Antonio's ftrength began to fail.
They took them both on board. Antonio cried
'out feebly, "Affift my friend-I die;”—and his
countenance feemed convulfed with the agonies
of death. Robert, who was in a fwoon, reco-
vering at the inftant, and ſeeing Antonio, without
any fign of life, extended by his fide, was almoft
diſtracted; he threw himfelf on the body of his
friend. "Antonio!" he cried, "my dear An-
tonio, my friend, my deliverer, have I been
<< your


BY FRIENDSHIP.
187
your murderer? Alas! you cannot hear me.
Is this your recompence for having faved my
* life? But what is life? Who can fupport it
"after the lofs of fuch a friend?"?
Saying this, he ftarted up in the boat, and,
feizing a fword, would have plunged it into his
bofom, if he had not been difarmed; but, in the
midft of his lamentations and diftraction, Provi-
dence, apparently to reward an affection fo fin-
cere, interpofed in his favour-Antonio breathed
a figh. Robert flew to the affiftance of his friend,
who, lifting up his languid eyes, tried to find the
Frenchman, and, as foon as he perceived him,
cried out with a tranfport beyond his ftrength,
"I have faved my friend!"
They were both conveyed on board the veffel.
Their exemplary friendſhip diffuſed a reſpect for
them among the whole crew. And, fuch is the
effect of virtue even on the rougheſt minds,
every one contended with his fellows in fhewing
them attention. Robert arriving in France flew
to his father, who was ready to die with exceſs
of joy at feeing him, and was appointed to a
genteel office under the Government. But the
Spaniard, who was likewife offered a very ad-
vantageous poft, for one in his fituation of life,
choſe rather to return to his wife and family.
But abſence did not diminiſh his friendſhip; he
continued ſtill to correfpond with Robert, and
their


188
COURAGE INSPIRED.
their letters, which are maſterpieces of fimpli-
city and affection, do honour to the fentiment
which was capable of producing fo heroic an
action.
SeBewick del
THE


[189]
THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF
JOHN GILPIN;
Shewing how he went farther than he intended, and
came fafe Home again.
OHN Gilpin was a citizen
Of credit and renown;
A train-band captain eke was he
Of famous London town.
JOHN
66
John Gilpin's fpoufe faid to her dear-
Though wedded we have been
"Theſe twice ten tedious years, yet we
"No holiday have ſeen.
To-morrow is our wedding day,
"And we will then repair,
"Unto the Bell at Edmonton,
"All in a chaiſe and pair.
"My fifter and my fifter's child,
"Myſelf and children three,
"Will fill the chaife; fo you muft ride
"On horfeback after we."
He foon replied-" I do admire
"Of womankind but one,
"And you are fhe, my deareft dear,
"Therefore it fhall be done.
"I am a linen-draper bold,
"As all the world doth know,
And my good friend the callender,
"Will lend his horfe to go."
"
Quoth


190
THE HISTORY OF
Quoth Mrs. Gilpin-" That's well faid;
"And, for that wine is dear,
"We will be furniſh'd with our own,
"Which is both bright and clear.”
John Gilpin kifs'd his loving wife:
O'erjoy'd was he to find,
That, though on pleaſure ſhe was bent,
She had a frugal mind.
The morning came, the chaiſe was brought,
But
yet was not allow'd
To drive up to the door, left all
Should fay that ſhe proud.
So three doors off the chaife was ſtaid,
Where they did all get in,
Six precious fouls' and all agog
To dafh through thick and thin.
Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
Were never folks fo glad ;
The ftones did rattle underneath,
As if Cheapfide were mad.
John Gilpin at his horfe's fide,
Seiz'd faft the flowing mane,
And up he got, in hafte to ride,
But foon came down again.
For faddle-tree fcarce reach'd had he,
His journey to begin,
When, turning round his head, he faw
Three cuftomers come in.
cber
"
De
*
So


JOHN GILPIN.
0191
So down he came; for lofs of time,
Although it griev'd him fore,
Yet loſs of pence, full well he knew,
Would trouble him much more.
'Twas long before the cuſtomers
Were fuited to their mind,
When Betty, ſcreaming, came down ſtairs,
"The wine is left behind!"
"Good lack!" quoth he-" yet bring it me,
My leathern belt likewiſe,
66
"In which I bear my trusty fword
"When I do exerciſe."
Now Mrs. Gilpin-careful foul-
Had two ftone bottles found,.
To hold the liquor that the lov'd,
And keep it ſafe and found,
Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew;
And hung a bottle on each fide,
To make his balance true.
W
dadd
tres
Then over all, that he might be
Equipp'd from top to toe,
His long red cloak, well brushed and neat,
o
He manfully did throw badoo dud
10.5-8
Now fee him mounted once again Haroldal to
Upon his nimble ſteed,
Full flowly pacing o'er the ftones, adinues to W
With caution and good.heed.oo sof
300 #F
ܐ
But


192
THE HISTORY OF
But finding foon a ſmoother road
Beneath his well-fhod feet,
The fnorting beaſt began to trot,
Which gall'd him in his feat,
So," Fair and foftly," John he cried,
But John he cried in vain ;
That trot became a gallop foon,
In ſpite of kirb and rein.
So ftooping down, as needs he muſt
Who cannot fit upright,
He grafp'd the mane with both his hands,
And eke with all his might.
His horfe, who never in that fort
Had handled been before,
What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.
Away went Gilpin, neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig;
He little dreamt when he fet out,
Of running fuch a rig.
The wind did blow, the cloak did fly,
Like ftreamer long and gay,
Till loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.
Then might all people well difcern
The bottles he had flung;
A bottle ſwinging at each fide,
As hath been faid or fung.
The


JOHN GILPIN
193
The dogs did bark, the children ſcream'd,
Up flew the windows all;
And ev'ry foul cried out, "Well done!"
As loud as he could bawl.
Away went Gilpin-who but he !
His fame foon fpread around-
"He carries weight! he rides a race !—
"'Tis for a thousand pound!
-
And ftill, as faft as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view,
How, in a trice, the turnpike-men
Their gates wide open threw.
And now as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back,
Were shattered at a blow.
Down ran the wine into the road,
Moft piteous to be ſeen,
Which made his horfe's flanks to ſmoke
As they had bafted been.
But ſtill he feem'd to carry weight,
With leather girdle brac'd;
For all might fee the bottle-necks
Still dangling at his waiſt.
Thus all through merry Islington,
Theſe gambols he did play,
And till he came unto the Waſh
Of Edmonton fo gay;
K
And


194
THE HISTORY OF
And there he threw the Waſh about
On both fides of the way,
Juft like unto a trundling-mop,
Or a wild goofe at play.
At Edmonton his loving wife-
From the balcony fpied
Her tender huſband, wond'ring much-
To ſee how he did ride.
"Stop, ftop, John Gilpin; here's the houſe!"
They all at once did cry;
"The dinner waits, and we are tir'd !"—
Said Gilpin-" So am I."
But yet his horſe was not a whit
Inclin'd to tarry there;
For why?-his owner had a houſe
Full ten miles off, at Ware.
So like an arrow fwift he flew,
Shot by an archer ſtrong;
So did he fly-which brings me to
The middle of my ſong.
Away went Gilpin out of breath,
And fore againſt his will,
Till at his friend the callender's
His horfe at last flood ftill.
The callender, amaz'd to fee
His neighbour in ſuch trim,
Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate
And thus accofted him-
What


JOHN GILPIN.
195
"What news! what news! your tidings tell,
"Tell me you muſt and fhall-
66
Now Gilpin had a pleaſant wit,
And lov'd a timely joke;
And thus unto the callender
In merry guiſe he ſpoke-
Say, why bare headed you are come,
Or why you come at all?”
66
"I came becauſe your
horfe would come;
"And, if I well forebode,:
My hat and wig will foon be here;
They are upon the road."
The callender right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Return'd him not a ſingle word,
But to the houſe went in. *
.
--
8
➢ཏ༣,
Whence ſtraight he came with hat and wig,
A wig that flow'd behind,
A hat not much the worſe for wear,
Each comely in its kind.
K 2
He held them up, and, in his turn,
Thus fhew'd his ready wit-
"My head is twice as big as yours,
66 They, therefore, needs muſt fit.
"But let me fcrape the dirt
away
"That hangs upon your face;
"And ſtop and eat-for well you may
Be in a hungry cafe!
KA
Said


196
THE HISTORY OF
Said John-" It is my wedding day,
"And all the world would ftare,
"If wife fhould dine at Edmonton,
And I fhould dine at Ware."
So turning to his horſe, he ſaid
"I am in hafte to dine;
""Twas for your pleaſure you came here-
You fhall
go back for mine."
Ah! lucklefs fpeech and bootless boaft,
For which he paid full dear;
For, while he ſpake, a braying afs
Did fing moft loud and clear;
Whereat his horfe did fnort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,
And gallopp'd off with all his might,
As he had done before.
Away went Gilpin and away
Went Gilpin's hat and wig ;
He loft them fooner than at first,
For why?-they were too big.
Now Mrs. Gilpin, when fhe faw
Her huſband pofting down
Into the country far away,
She pull'd out half-a-crown ;
And thus unto the youth the faid
That drove them to the Bell,
"This fhall be yours, when you bring back
"My huſband fafe and well."
The


JOHN GILPIN,
197
The youth did ride, and foon did meet
John coming back again,
Whom in a trice he tried to ftop,
By catching at his rein;
But not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted ſteed he frighted more,
And made him fafter run.
Away went Gilpin-and away
Went poft-boy at his heels,
The poſt-boy's horſe right glad to miſs
The lumb'ring of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road,.
Thus feeing Gilpin fly,
With poſt-boy fcamp'ring in the rear,
They rais'd the hue-and-cry. ›
"Stop thief!-ſtop thief!-a highwayman!"
Not one of them was mute;
And all and each that paſs'd that way
Did join in the purſuit.
And now the turnpike gates again
Flew open in ſhort ſpace,
The toll-men thinking, as before,
That Gilpin rode a race.
And fo he did, and won it too;
For he got firft to town,
Nor ſtopp'd till where he had got up
He did again get down.
K 3
A
Now


198
GRAY'S ELEGY.
Now let us fing-Long live the King;
"And Gilpin, long live he;
"And when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to fee!"
6:
GRAY'S ELEGY.
Written in a Country Church-Yard.
HE curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds flowly o'er the lee,
The plowman homeward plods his wearied way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landſkip on the fight,
And all the air a folemn ftillnefs holds;
Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,
Or drowſy tinkling lulls the diftant folds:
Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r,
The moping owl does to the moon complain
Of fuch as, wand'ring near the fecret bow'r,
Moleft her ancient-folitary reign.
Beneath theſe rugged elms-that yew-tree's fhade,
Where heaves the turf in a many a mould'ring
heap,
Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet fleep.
The breezy call of incenfe-breathing morn,
The ſwallow twitt'ring from her ſtraw-built ſhed,
The cock's fhrill clarion, or the echoing horn,
No more ſhall rouze them from their lowly bed.
For


GRAY'S ELEGY.
199
1
For them no more the blazing hearth ſhall burn,
Or bufy houſewife ply her evening care,
No children run to lifp their fire's return,
Or climb his knees the envy'd kifs to share.
Oft did the harveft to the fickle yield,
Their harrow oft the ſtubborn glebe had broke,
How jocund did they drive their team a-field!
How bow'd the woods beneath their ſturdy ſtroke!
Let not ambition mock their uſeful toil,
Their homely joys and deſtiny obfcure,
Nor grandeur here, with a difdainful fimile,
The ſhort and fimple annals of the poor.
The boaſt of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
All that beauty-all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour;
The paths to glory lead but to the grave.
Nor you, ye proud, impute to thofe the fault,
If mem❜ry o'er their tomb no trophies raife,
Where thro' the long-drawn ifle and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem ſwells the note of praiſe.
Can ftory'd urn, or animated buft,
Back to its manfion call the fleeting breath?
Can honour's voice provoke the filent duft,
Or flatt'ry footh the dull cold ear of death?
Perhaps in this neglected ſpot is laid
Some heart once pregnant with celeſtial fire:
Hands that the reins of empire might have fway'd,
Or wake to ecstacy the living lyre.
K4
But


200
GRAY'S ELEGY.'
But knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the fpoils of time, did ne'er unroll;
Chill penury reprefs'd their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the foul.
Full many a gem of pureft ray ferene
The daik unfathom'd caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blufh unfeen,
And wafte its fweetnefs on the defart air.
Some village Hampden, that, with dauntleſs breaſt,
The little tyrant of his fields withſtood;
Some mute, inglorious Milton here may reſt;
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood.
Th' applaufe of lift'ning fenates to command,
The threats of pain and ruin to defpife,
To ſcatter plenty o'er a fmiling land,
And read their hift'ry in a nation's eyes.
Their lot forbade: not circumfcrib'd alone
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confin'd:
Forbade to wade through flaughter to a throne,
And fhut the gates of mercy on mankind.
The ſtruggling pangs of conſcious truth to hide,
To quench the bluſhes of ingenuous ſhame,
Or heap the fhrine of luxury and pride
With incenfe kindled at the Mufe's flame.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble ftrife,
Their fober wifhes never learn'd to ftray:
Along the cool fequefter'd vale of life,
They kept the noiſeleſs tenor of their way.
Yet


GRAY'S ELEGY.
201
Yet e'en theſe bones from infult to protect
Some frail memorial ſtill erected nigh,
With uncouth rhymes and ſhapeleſs ſculpture
deck'd,
Implores the paffing tribute of a ſigh.
Their name, their years, fpelt by th' unletter'd Mufe,
The place of fame and elegy fupply,
And many a holy text around fhe ftrews,
To teach the ruftic moralift to die..
For who, to dumb forgetfulneſs a prey,
This pleaſing anxious being e'er refign'd,
Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,
Nor caft one longing, ling'ring look behind!
On fome fond breaft the parting foul relies,
Some pious drop the clofing eye requires;
Ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
Ev'n in our afhés live their wonted fires.
For thee, who, mindful of the unhonour'd dead,
Doft in theſe lines their artleſs tale relate,
If chance by lonely contemplation led,
Some kindred spirit fhall inquire thy fate:
Haply fome hoary-headed fwain may fay,
"Oft have we ſeen him at the peep of dawn.
Bruſhing with hafty ſteps the dews away,
"To meet the fun upon the upland lawn.
66
"There at the foot of yonder nodding beech,
"That wreaths its old fantaftic roots fo high,
"His liftless length at noon-tide would he ſtretch,
"And pore upon
the brook that bubbles by.
K 5
"Hard


202
GRAY'S ELEGY. ·
"Hard by yon wood, now fmilling as in fcorn,
"Mutt'ring his wayward fancies, he would rove;
"Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,
"Or craz'd with care, or crofs'd in hopeleſs love.
"One morn I mifs'd him on the cuftom'd hill,
"Along the heath, and near his fav'rite tree;
"Another came, nor yet befide the rill,
"Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he:
"The next, with dirges due, in fad array,
"Slow through the church-way path we ſaw him
borne ;
Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay
"Gray'd on the ftone beneath yon aged thorn.
"There fcatter'd oft, the earlieſt of the year,
66
By hands unfeen are ſhowers of violets found;
"The red-breaft loves to build and warble there,
"And little footſteps lightly print the ground."
66
THE EPITAPH.
HERE refts his head upon the lap of earth,
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown:
Fair ſcience frown'd not on his humble birth,
And melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere ;
Heav'n did a recompence as largely fend;
He gave to mis❜ry (all he had) a tear;
1
He gain'd from Heav'n ('twas all he wish'd) a
friend.
No


UNIVERSAL PRAYER.
203
No farther feek his merits to diſcloſe,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,
(There they alike in trembling hope repoſe)
The bofom of his Father and his God.
THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.
F
ATHER of all! in ev'ry age,
In ev'ry clime ador❜d,
By faint, by favage, and by fage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord.
Thou Great Firft Caufe, leaft underflood,
Who all my fenfe confin'd
To know but this, that thou art good,
And that myſelf am blind.
Yet gave me in this dark eſtate
To fee the good from from ill`;
And binding nature faſt in fate,
Left free the human will.
What confcience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,
This, teach me more than hell to fhun,
That, more than heav'n purfue.
What bleffings thy free bounty gives,
Let me not caſt away ;
For God is paid when man receives,
T'enjoy is to obey.
K 6.
Yet


"
204
POPE'S UNIVERSAL PRAYER.
Yet not to earth's contracted ſpan
Thy goodnefs let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thouſand worlds are round.
Let not this weak unknowing hand
Prefume thy bolts to throw,
Or deal damnation round the land,
On each I judge thy foe.
If I am right, thy grace impart
Still in the right to ſtay!
If I am wrong, O teach my
To find the better way.
heart
Save me alike from fooliſh pride,
Or impious difcontent,
At aught thy wiſdom has deny'd,
Or aught thy goodneſs lent..
Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I fee;
That mercy I to others fhew,
That mercy fhew to me.
Mean tho' I am, not wholly fo,
Since quicken'd by thy breath;
O lead me wherefoc'er I go,
Thro' this day's life or death.
This day be bread and peace my lot;
All elfe beneath the fun
Thou know'ft if beſt beſtow'd, or not,
And let thy will be done.
To


THE DUEL.
205
To thee whoſe temple is all ſpace,
Whoſe altar, earth, ſea, ſkies,
One chorus let all beings raiſe !
All Nature's incenfe rife!
+
THE DUEL; OR, THE MAN OF TRUE
COURAGE.
MEL
ELCOUR loft his parents at an age when
he could not be fenfible of the greatneſs
of his misfortune. One of his uncles took him
home, brought him up with his own fon, and
paid the utmoſt attention to his education. Flo-
rival and Melcour, already united by the ties of
kindred, were foon more fo by thoſe of friend-
fhip, which, from their living conſtantly toge-
ther, grew ftronger every day. They were both
defigned for the army. When they were of a
proper age, they got commiffions in the fame re-
giment. Florival always hated application, and
the diffipation that naturally attends a military
life ftill inclined him lefs to it. As for Melcour,
he had not only a very good natural genius, but
ftrong inclination to cultivate it. His ftudies
had been properly directed; and a generous and
humane difpofition, joined with a habit of think-
ing ſeriouſly, led him to condemn the criminal
practice of fighting duels on trivial occafions, a
cuſtom too prevalent in the army.
Different


206.
THE DUEL; OR,
Different purfuits leffened, by degrees, the
friendſhip of the two young men. Florival was
blinded by the love of pleaſure, he ran into all
forts of extravagance, and became involved in
debt. Melcour lamented his folly, affifted him
with his purſe, and endeavoured to fave him from
the ruin into which he was going to plunge.
He repreſented to him how much his conduct
degraded him in the eyes of fenfible people.
"Even thofe," faid he to him, "who now ap-
"plaud your extravagance, will be the firft to
upbraid you when they fee you in diſtreſs.
They call themſelves your beſt friends, and
you
believe them: they have eftranged you
"from me. They have painted me to you in
"the moſt unfavourable colours, and if they
"have not entirely extinguiſhed the friendſhip
"that fubfifted between us, at leaſt they have
"greatly weakened it. The wretches well-knew
"my fincere affection for you; they are inform-
"ed of the pains I have taken to diſcover to you
"their perfidious defigns, and they wiſh to pu-
"niſh me for them. O, my friend, if they ſhould
"fucceed in robbing me of your efteem, their
triumph will be too complete! But, my dear
“Florival, I do not ſpeak on my own account
only. I conjure you, by every ſentiment of
"virtue that united our infancy, not to plunge.
"a dagger in the heart of the beſt of fathers. If
"he
66
66
66
66
66
1


THE MAN OF TRUE COURAGE.
207
" he were to know the exceffes you run into, he
"would die with forrow.
Theſe remonftrances touched the heart of Flo-
rival. He promiſed to amend; but his perfidious
friends repreſented vice to him in fo amiable a
form, that he was unable to refift. Melcour be-
ing informed, that, after having loft a great fum
of money at play, he was gone to diffipate his
forrow by infamous debauchery, immediately
went to him, and urged to him, with fome vehe-
mence, the duties of his fituation, and the pro-
mifes he had made to fulfil them.
Florival was no longer mafter of himſelf; he
fell into a moft violent rage againſt his coufin ;
he even drew his fword on him; and on Mel-
cour's refufing to fight him, he abufed him in
the groffeft terms, and was almoſt tempted to
ftrike him. His coufin ftill kept his temper;
unworthy as Florival appeared of his affection,
he yet only regarded him as a friend and relation.
Overcome by this feadineſs, he at length re-
covered his temper. He was afhamed of his be-
haviour, and begged pardon of Melcour for his
violence, which was immediately granted by the
generous youth, and an immediate and perfect
reconciliation took place.
An officer belonging to another regiment hap-
pened to be preſent during the affair; he had
been witneſs to the provocation given by Flori-
val,


208
THE DUEL; OR,
val, and he imputed the coolness of his coufin
to want of courage. He did not fail to make
many farcaſtic remarks on it, and they came at
length to the ears of fome of Melcour's friends.
The leaft fufpicion is deemed injurious to the
honour of a foldier. After many enquiries, it
was diſcovered whoſe conduct had given riſe to
the fcandal. They were told the honour of the
corps was wounded through them, and it was
their duty to vindicate it. The means were evi-
dent. If the report was true, they muſt fight
each other; if falfe, they muft puniſh the au-
thor of it. Melcour was truly miferable. His
principles difapproved of duelling in any in-
ftance; and in this, if he obeyed the injunc-
tions of his corps, he was reduced to the terrible
neceffity of plunging his fword into the bofom
of his relation and friend. But, in vain did he
repreſent his feelings to his brother officers, they
would hear of nothing but the choice of wea-
pons, time, and place. His forrow was unut-
terable; he retired to his apartment. Florival,
who went to look for him, found him leaning
on a table, hiding his face with his hands, his
eyes ftreaming with tears, and his continual
fighs, only interrupted by the frequent repetition
of the name of Florival. At fuch a fight he
was not able to contain himſelf; he threw him-
felf at the feet of his friend. His appearance
recalled
.


THE MAN OF TRUE COURAGE.
209
1
recalled to Melcour all the horror of his fitua-
tion "What! in a moment I am called upon
"to pierce your heart, and do you come to feek
"me?-O Florival!" faid he, his voice almoſt
choaked with tears, "fhould my arm deprive
you of life, I would not furvive you. What
"fhould I fay to your father? Did he take fo
"much care of my infancy, to fee me ſtained.
"with the blood of his fon? O, wretched old
"man, whatever may be the event of this hor-
"rid duel, it will be an eternal fource of an-
guiſh for you!"
At this inftant fome of the officers forced
open the door; they came to tell Melcour he
could not delay the combat any longer without
giving room to call his courage in queſtion.
What a terrible fituation !-At this inftant the
two friends were embracing each other-they
were unable to return any anſwer.
66
Florival was the firft who broke this mourn-
ful filence. In him the miſtaken principles of
honour at preſent prevailed over thoſe of friend-
ſhip. He got up, and extended his arm to affift
Melcour, without daring to look at him. He
arofe, and walked about the room in the great-
eft agitation; he fancied he faw his relation and
friend murdered by his hands, and his diſtracted
uncle demanding vengeance for the blood of his
fon. At length, recovering himſelf, he turned
to


210
THE DUEL; OK,
to the officers, and faid to them in a firm and
refolute tone of voice: "I will no longer hefi-
"tate to act that part which is pointed out to
-re me by the voice of religion, of reafon, and of
humanity, be the conſequence what it may..
"My determination is fixed. Go, and inform
"thoſe who ſent you, that Melcour prefers an
"imaginary difhonour to a real crime, and that
no confideration upon earth fhall tempt him-
to point his fword againſt the bofom of his
"friend." This anfwer determined his fate."
His brother officers informed him, with the fin-
cereft regret, that, as he had refuſed to fight, it
was impoffible for them. to roll with him, and
that he muſt quit the regiment. Who can de-
fcribe the feelings of Florival, when he heard
this fentence? It was he who had brought Mel-
cour into this terrible fituation. The difgrace-
of his coufin was owing to his follies. Theſe
thoughts almoft drove him to diftraction. His
friends were alarmed for the conſequence, and
removed him by force from the mournful ſcene..
Melcour, left to himſelf, foon determined
what fteps to take. He was determined not to.
return home, to be there expofed to a diſgrace
he was conſcious of not deferving. He refolved
to endeavour to improve the talents which Na-
ture had endowed him with by travelling, till
time ſhould either obliterate the memory of
this


THE MAN OF TRUE COURAGE.
211
ť
66
this unfortunate adventure, or fhew it in its true
light. That very evening he made the proper
preparations for his journey, and wrote a letter
to his coufin, acquainting him with his intended
expedition. "Inform my uncle," he added, "of
"all that has happened; let him know that they
"wanted to compel me to become your murderer.
"He will fhudder at the thought. Though theſe
❝ barbarians, guided only by a falſe ſenſe of ho-
"nour, think me unworthy to ferve my King
"and country, he at leaſt will applaud the cou-
"rageous efforts I have made to preferve us both
"from a crime. This leffon, my dear Florival,
"will be of advantage to you; your eyes are *
"now opened to the conduct of your compa-
"nions. Still continue your regard for me; and
"never eſteem me unhappy while I preſerve a
place in your friendship."
He fet out at day-break the next morning,
accompanied by a fingle fervant. He had not
gone many miles from the garrifon when he faw
a large detachment of the enemy on the point of
defeating an inferior number of French troops.
He could not behold his countrymen in danger
of being vanquiſhed, without burning with ar-
dour to affift them. Regardleſs of the danger of
the attempt, he only liftened to the call of
glory; and this Melcour, whofe courage his bro-
ther officers had prefumed to queſtion, flew to
the


212
THE DUEL; OR,
the field of battle, performed prodigies of va-
lour, took one of the enemy's colours, and ani-
mating his countrymen by his example, they
obtained the victory.
The general officer who commanded the de-
tachment was charmed with the bravery of the
young warrior, and earneſtly defired to know his
name. "Sir," he replied, "I will tell you who
"I am directly; but, will you give me leave
"firft to afk, what is the immediate deftination
"of your detachment?" "It is going," faid he,
"to reinforce the neighbouring garrifon," (nam-
ing that which Melcour had left,) " of which I
"am to take the command." "Then, Sir,"
faid Melcour, "if you will permit me, I will
"attend you thither, and receive there thofe
"marks of your approbation that you ſhall be
"pleaſed to honour me with."
fin
$
They arrived." Sir," faid Melcour, "the.
"only favour I aſk of you, is to call together
"the officers of the regiment of ***?? (that
which he had quitted); they aſſembled, and
Melcour appeared. “Behold, gentlemen,"
faid he, "the unfortunate victim of a falfe ho-
"nour, to which you facrifice every thing,
"though it often renders you cruel and unjuſt.
"Becauſe I refuſed to ſtain my hands with the
“blood of a relation younger than myſelf, and
"who had expiated a very flight offence by the
"moft
4
*
I
I


THE MAN OF TRUE COURAGE.
213
* moſt unequivocal marks of forrow and repent-
"ance; becauſe I liſtened to the voice of re-
ligion and humanity; becauſe I reſpected the
"laws, you have judged me unworthy to carry
"arms in the fervice of my country. Blinded
"by prejudice, you have dared to accuſe me of
"cowardice. For that accufation I have taken
"ample revenge. Thefe colours, taken from
"the enemy, are a fufficient teftimony of my
"courage." His brother officers furrounded
him, and embracing him, by the praiſes they
laviſhed on him, and the excufes they made,
they atoned for the rafh fufpicions they had en-
tertained of him.
"
66
The general, aftonifhed and charmed with
the behaviour of Melcour, preffed him to re-
fume his rank for the preſent, till he could have
an opportunity of reporting fo gallant an action to
the miniſter. Melcour yielded to his folicita-
tions, feconded by thoſe of the officers of the
regiment. Accept," faid the general, "that
"commiffion you was deprived of yeſterday, as
"a tacit avowal of the injuftice of that preju
"dice which condemned you, and may your
"example entirely root it out!" Then turning
to the officers who furrounded him, he added:
"Let the behaviour of this virtuous young
16 man teach you, for the future, not to accufe
"the perſon of cowardice, who, obedient to
"the


214
THE DUEL.
"the laws of true honour, and of his coun-
66 try, refuſes to become a murderer. Re-
"nounce, gentlemen, that fatal error, which
"fhews you the man of true courage in him
"who is not afraid to wash out an injury in
"the blood of his fellow citizen: behold him
"rather in the perſon who has greatneſs of ſoul
"to be above the defire of revenge. For the
"future, defer your quarrels till the day of
"battle, and let the contefts for fuperior refolu-
"tion be decided in the face of the enemies of
"your king and country. Or, if the infult of-
"fered you is amenable to the laws, let the
"laws fix that ignominy on your adverſary that
"his conduct may deſerve. But let your warm-
"eft praiſes be beſtowed on Melcour, and on
"thoſe who have the magnanimity to follow
"the example he has this day given us."
It is impoffible to defcribe the tranſports of
Florival during this affecting ſcene. From that
moment he renounced his fatal errors, and,
ftrictly keeping the folemn promiſes he had
made to his friend, and profiting by his exam-
ple, they both were raiſed to the higheſt ſtations
in the army, which they filled with the greateſt
honour to themſelves, their family, and their
country.
ON


HISTORY OF PHILIP QUARLL.
215
ON THOMAS DAY, Esq.
F penſive genius ever pour'd the tear
Of votive anguish o'er the poet's bier;
If drooping Britain ever knew to mourn
In filent forrow o'er the patriot's urn,
Here let them weep their Day's untimely doom,
And hang their faireft garlands o'er his tomb,
For never poet's hand did yet confign
So pure a wreath to virtue's holy ſhrine;
For never patriot tri'd before to raiſe
His country's welfare on fo firm a baſe;
Glory's bright form he taught her youth to fee,
And bade them merit freedom to be free.
No fculptur'd marble need his worth proclaim,
No herald's founding ftyle record his name,
For long as ſenſe and virtue fame can give,
In his own works his deathlefs name fhall live.
"
THE HISTORY OF PHILIP QUARLL.
INTRODUCTION.
THE
HE refources of the human mind in ftrug-
gling againſt misfortunes are never fo well
underſtood, as in fituations of diſtreſs and diffi-
culty. Nothing is fo feeble, nothing fo help-
lefs, as a being that has been accuſtomed to fub-
fift by the labour of others, without the leaſt ex-
ertion. This is one of the diſadvantages attend-
ing


216
THE HISTORY OF
ing a ſtate of refinement and civilization. Man-
kind forget the fimple dictates of reaſon and na-
ture, and make a thouſand pernicious indul-
gencies neceffary to their ideas of happineſs.
One man imagines that it is impoffible to tranſ-
port himſelf from place to place, without the
affiftance of other animals, who are to relieve
him from the fatigue of uſing his own legs;
another, that it is impoffible to fupply his hunger
without a fplendid table, covered with the pro-
ductions of every climate; a third cannot fleep
unleſs upon beds of down, and in a palace.
Thus are a thouſand things made neceffary to
our happineſs, which have no natural connec-
tion with it, and our lives are confumed in the
acquifition of fuperfluous trifles. Our vanity,
ever ingenious to torment us, renders us in-
capable of repofe, and prompts us to be con-
tinually making ufelefs compariſons with all
around.
Surely, in this reſpect, the uncultured Savage
that inhabits the woods, and afks no more than
a fkin to repel the winds of winter, an hut to
defend him from the ftorms, and a moderate
quantity of the coarſeft food, is happier far than
we. He views the whole detail of European
luxury with indifference and contempt, and pre-
fers his native woods and plains to all the mag-
nificence of our cities; nor would the moſt ef-
feminate
1


PHILIP QUARLL.
217
12
feminate native of our capital be more mortified
to inhabit the rudeft forefts, than he to exchange
them for the endleſs reftraints and ceremonies,
which we ſubmit to in civilized fociety. He
fleeps as found upon a bed of grafs and leaves,
and gratifies his hunger as fatisfactorily with
roafted corn, or millet, as a rich and indolent
citizen can do with all the accumulated inven-"
tions of arts and manufactures. But in the en-*
tire poffeffion of all his bodily faculties, how
great is the fuperiority of the Savage! The in-"
habitant of cities, pale, feeble, and bloated,
drags on a tedious exiftence with difficulty,'
under the incumbrance of an hundred difeafes,
to which his intemperance has fubjected him.
Before half his life is run out, we frequently be-
kold him incapable of uſing his limbs, and that
idlenefs, which was at firft voluntary, becomes
inevitable, from the imbecility he has contract-
ed. In vain would the beautiful revolution of"
the ſeaſons attract his notice, or call him out to
fhare the common bleffings which nature dif-
penſes to all her uncorrupted offspring. Neither
the care of his own neceffary affairs, the de-
fence of his country, nor even fears for his own
perfonal fafety, can any longer animate him to
the ſmalleſt exertion; and fhould he not be in a
fituation to buy the affiftance of others, he muft
remain for ever attached to one ſpot, like a
L
muſcle
*


218
THE HISTORY OF
muſcle or an oyfter. How different from this
is the life of an American or a Tartar! Accuf.
tomed from his infancy to contend with dangers
and difficulties, he becomes hardened againſt
all the viciffitudes of nature, againſt all the at-
tacks of fortune. Wherever the earth extends
her furface, he finds a bed; the foreſt affords
him all the ſhelter he demands; and he can
every where procure, by his own induftry, fuf-
ficient food to fupply his wants. In the uſe of
his limbs, and the full enjoyment of all his na-
tural powers, he is not exceeded by the very
beafts that fly before him. Such are all the un-
civilized nations with which we were formerly
acquainted; fuch are thofe which are lately add-
ed to our knowledge by modern diſcoveries.
But the moſt extraordinary inftances of the
exertions of human beings in difficult fituations,
are to be found in the lives of fuch men, as
have been compelled by ſhipwreck to remain
for ſeveral years on uninhabited islands. De-
prived in an inftant of all the advantages and
fupport which we derive from mutual affiſtance,
they have been obliged to call forth all the la-
tent refources of their own minds. From a con-
templation of thefe we are enabled to form
fome ideas of the wonderful powers of the hu-
man conſtitution, when properly ftimulated to
action by neceffity. The following narrative,
whether


PHILIP QUARLL.
219.
E
1
whether real or fictitious, feems to be admirably
adapted to the illuftration of this fubject, and
therefore we ſhall make no apology for re-⠀
printing it in this collection.
THE HISTORY OF PHILIP QUARLL.
PHILIP QUARLL, was an Engliſh failor, who
affifted to navigate a ſhip in the fouthern feas of
America. During his voyage they were affailed:
by fuch a violent tempeft, which continued,
without intermiffion, for two days and nights,
that the captain and the moſt experienced ma-
riners began to deſpair of the ſafety of the ſhip.
In this exigency, Quarll, being bold and active,
took a hatchet in his hand, and ran up the
fhrowds, by the captain's order, to cut away the
main-yard, which they could not lower; but by
the time he had mounted, there came a fea
which daſhed the ſhip againſt a rock, and, with
the violence of the motion, flung Quarll, who
was aftride, upon the main-yard, on the top of
the rock, where, having the good fortune to fall
into a clift, he was fecured from being waſhed
back again into the fea and drowned, as all the
reft were that belonged to the fhip.
Quarll, in a difimal condition, remained the
fucceeding night in the clift, being continually
beaten with the dafhing back of the fea, and be-
ing both bruifed and numbed, pulled off his
L 2
cloaths


220
THE HISTORY OF
cloaths which were dripping wet, over fatigued,
lays himſelf down on the ſmootheſt place of the
rock he could find, being quite ſpent with the
hardſhip he had undergone, and flept while his
cloaths were drying.
His fleep, though very profound, was not re-
freſhing the danger he had been lately in, fo
ran in his mind, that death was ever before his
eyes, and conftantly disturbed his reft: but na-
ture, which wanted repofe, would be ſupplied.
Having flept a few hours, he awakes almoft as
much fatigued as before, and faint for want of
nouriſhment, having taken none for thirty-fix
hours before: fo having looked upon his cloaths,
which he perceived were not quite dry, he turn-
ed the other fide to the fun, and laid himſelf
down to fleep again; but ſtill nothing but horror
.entered his mind.
When he awoke, he was very much terrified
with his dreams, and ſtared about him in a fright-
ed manner, expecting every minute fome crea-
ture to devour him; but, taking a little courage,
put on his cloaths, which by this time were quite
dry. He then looks about him; but alas! could
fee nothing but the dreadful effects of the late
tempeft, dead corpfes, broken planks, and bat-
tered chefts floating; and fuch fights as at once
filled him with terror and grief.
Turning from thoſe ſhocking objects, which
prefented to his eyes the dreadful death he fo
lately


PHILIP QUARLL.
22F
$
"C
lately had efcaped, he fees on the other fide the
profpect of one more terrible, hunger and thirſt,
attended with all the miferies that can make
life burthenfome. Being feized with the terror
of the threatening evil, he turns again towards
the fea, and looking on the dead corpfes, which
the fea now and then drove to the rock, and
back again, "Oh! that I was like one of you,"
faid he, "paft all dangers! I have ſhared with
you in the terrors of death why did I not
"alfo partake with you in its relief? But why´
"fhould I complain? and have ſo much reafon
"to be thankful! Had I been cut off, when
"the cares of faving this worthless carcaſe in-
"tercepted me from feeking the falvation of
my foul, I ſhould not have had the preſent
66 opportunity of taking care of it." So, having
returned thanks for his late deliverance, he re-
figns himself to Providence, on whom he fully
relies; climbs up the rock, and being come to
the top, fees land on the infide, bearing both
trees and graſs: "Heaven be praiſed !" faid he :
"I ſhall not perish upon theſe barren rocks :" fo
made a fhift to go down to it, the weather then
being calm.
66
A
Being come to the other fide of the rock, he
finds at the bottom of it a narrow lake, which
ſeparated it from the land: therefore pulling off
his cloaths, the water being but fhallow, he
L3
wades


222
THE HISTORY OF
wades over with them in his arms; and drefling
himſelf, walks up a confiderable way in the iſland,
without feeing any human creature, or perceiving
any fign of its being inhabited, which ſtruck a
great damp to his fpirits. He walks it over and
over, croſs-ways and long-ways; yet could fee
-nothing but monkeys, ſtrange beaſts, birds, and
fowls, fuch as he had never feen before.
Having ranged himſelf weary, he fat down
under a cluſter of trees, that made an agreeable
arbour. The place being pleaſant and cool,
made, as it were, for repofe, and he being ſtill
very much fatigued, prompted him to lie down
and fleep, during which his mind is continually
alarmed with the frightful aſpect of grim death.
Sometimes he fancies himſelf ſtriving with the
rolling waves, ftretching out his arm to catch
hold of a plank toffing by; which, juſt come at,
is beaten back by the roaring billows, whoſe ter-
rible noiſe pronounces his death: at other times
he thinks himſelf aſtride upon a piece of a maſt,
labouring to keep himſelf on, and of a fudden
waſhed away, and funk down by a bulky wave;
on every fide of him men calling for help; others,
ſpent and paſt ſpeaking; here fome floating that
are already periſhed, and there others expiring ;
thus in every object feeing his approaching fate.
Being awaked out of that irkſome and uneafy
fleep, he falls into as anxious and melancholy
thoughts:


PHILIP QUARLL.
223
T
thoughts: "I have," ſaid he, "efcaped being
"drowned, but how ſhall I avoid ſtarving? Here
"is no food for man. But why should I de-
"fpair? Cannot I eat grafs for a few days? by
"which time, Providence, which has hitherto
protected me, may raiſe me fome means to
"get from hence." So, being entirely refign-
ed, he walks about to fee the iſland, which he
found furrounded with rocks, at the bottom of
which there was a ſmall lake, which was forda-
ble in moſt places, fo that he could with eaſe
wade over to the rock; which he did at every
fide of the iſland, to fee if he could perceive
any ſhip, whereby he might get away: but, fee-
ing none, and it drawing towards night, he re-
turns, and employs the remainder of the day in
looking for the moſt convenient place for him
to pass away the approaching night; and, hav-
ing fixed upon one of the higheſt trees, he gets
up as far as he well could, fearing fome wild
beaft might devour him if he ſlept below: where,
having returned thanks to Heaven for his late
great deliverance, he commits himſelf to its
care; then fettles, and falls to fleep, and ſlept
till hunger waked him in the morning, having
dreamt over night of abundance of victuals,
which he would fain have come at, but was
kept off by a crofs cook, who bid him go and
fifh for fome to which he anſwered, that he
L 4
was
66


224
THE HISTORY OF
was hipwrecked, and had nothing to fifh withaf.
"Well then," faid the cook to him again, "go
"where thou waft like to lofe thy life, and
"there thou shalt find wherewithal to ſupport
"it."
Being awaked, he makes reflections upon his
dream, which he imagined might proceed from
the emptiness of his ftomach, being cuſtomary
for people to dream of victuals, when they go
to bed hungry. But driven by neceffity, and
led by curiofity, he went to the fame fide of the
rock he had been caft upon; where, having
flood feveral hours without feeing ſhipping, or
aught that might anſwer his dream, the air com-
ing from the fea being pretty ſharp, and he faint,
having taken no manner of food for near three
days, he gave over all hopes of relief. Thus
fubmitting himſelf to the will of Heaven, which
he fuppofed decreed a lingering death to puniſh
him for his paft fins, he refolves to return
where he lay the night before, and there wait
for his doom; but being ſtopped by a ſudden
noife which iffued from a creek in the rock, not
far from where he ftood, he had the curiofity to
go and fee what occafioned it.
Being come to the place he heard the noiſe
proceed from, he fees a fine large cod-fiſh near
fix feet long, dabbling in a hole in the rock,
where the late ftorm had caft it.
One
1.
"


PHILIP QUARLL. ·
225
One under condemnation of death, and juſt
arrived at the place of execution, could not be
more rejoiced at the coming of a reprieve, than
he was at the fight of this fiſh, having felt ſeve-
ral fick qualms, fore-runners of the death he
thought he was doomed to.
"Heaven be praiſ-
"ed!" faid he, "here is fubfiftence for ſeveral
days."
66
So having taken off both his garters, he gets*
into the hole where the fifh lay, and having run.
them through its gills, he hauls it out, and
drags it after him, being heavy, and he very
weak. Going along, he finds feveral oyſters,
muſcles, and cockles, in his way, which the ſea
had caft up and down the rock; and having a
knife about him, he fat down and eat a few: fo
refreſhed himſelf, his fpirits being exhauſted for
want of food. This fmall nutriment very much
recruited his decayed ſtrength, and the thoughts
of his fupply of provifion having difperfed the
dull ideas his late want had bred in his mind,
he cheerfully takes his fiſh, which he drags with
much more vigour than before; and filling his
pockets with falt that was congealed by the fun,
which he found in the concavities of the rock,
away he goes to the place where he lay the
night before, in order to drefs fome of the cod-
fish; where being come, he picks up a parcel
of dry leaves, and, with his knife and a flint,
L5
ftruck
#


226
THE HISTORY OF
#
ftruck fire and kindled them: then getting to-
gether a few ſticks, made a fire preſently, and
broiled a flice of his fifh; of which he eat fo
heartily, that it overcame his ftomach, being
grown weak with fafting. Thus fick, and out
of order, he applies to the recourfe of the fee-
ble, which was lying down; and having much
fatigued and harraſſed himſelf with hauling the
heavy fiſh up and down the rock, he fell aſleep
until the next morning.
Having flept quietly the remainder of the
night, he awoke in the morning pretty freſh and
hearty, but anxious about his future deſtiny;
for though he might for awhile fubfift upon fiſh,
wherewith he might be fupplied by the fea, yet
he could not imagine which way he could be
furniſhed with cloaths and bed againſt the win-
ter; for want of which he muſt miſerably perish.
with cold, unleſs fupplied by fome fuch difmal
accident as expoſed him to the want thereof,
which he heartily wishes and prays may never
happen.
Having made theſe confiderations, he, on his
knees, returns kind Providence his hearty thanks
for all its mercies that had been extended to
him; begging the continuance of its affiftance.
Then, watching the opportunity of getting away
from that melancholy place, he goes to the
other


PHILIP QUARLE.
227
other fide of the rock, to try if he could perceive
any ſhipping in fight.
The wind being pretty high, fed his hopes,
that each fucceeding hour would gratify his.
wiſhing look with that object the preceding
could not bring forth; but he was diſappointed.
The night approaching, kept back all probabi-
lity for that time; however, depending on better
fuccefs the next day, he returns whence he
came; and being hungry, makes a fire, and
broils another flice of the fifh, then lays the reſt
upon broad green leaves, and ftrews falt thereon.
to keep it from ſpoiling, and then goes to reft;
and as he lay undiſturbed the night before under
the trees, and much more eaſy than at top, he
ventured again, committing himſelf to the care
of Providence.
He flept in fafety. that night, but with the
returning morning all his anxieties were renew--
ed, and he determined to lofe no time in pro--
viding as well as he could for all his neceffities.
Accordingly, firſt he begins to think of making
himſelf an houſe to preſerve him from the in-
juries of the weather; but having nothing to
make it of, nor any inftrument but a knife,
which could be of little fervice to him, he re-
folves to go to that part of the rock where he.
was ſhipwrecked, to fee if he could diſcover any
thing among the wreck that might be ſervice-
L 6
able


228.
THE HISTORY OF
able to him and therefore takes a branch of a
tree along with him, and coming to the place,
he ftrips himſelf, and goes into the water, (the
water being low, diſcovering the tops of ſeveral
fharp pointed rocks) and gropes along with his
ftaff for fure footing, wading as high as his chin,
diving to the bottom frequently, and feeling
about with his hands. This he continued do--
ing for almost two hours, but to no purpoſe, not
daring to go out of his depth; for he well knew
that he could do little good there, becauſe he
could difcover no part of the fhip, not fo much.
as the maft, or any of the rigging, but fancied
The lay in fome deep hole, where it was impof-
fible to get at her.
Thus defpairing, and fretting and teazing him-
felf, he calls to, mind that he had a hatchet in
his hand when he was caft away, and thought
probably it might lie in that clift of the rock
into which he was thrown; thither he went, and
looking about, perceived fomething like the
handle of a hatchet, juft above the furface of
the water, at the bottom of the rock; and, go-
Ing down to it, took it up; which, to his great
joy, proved to be the very thing he wanted.
Having got his tool, he dreffes himſelf, and
goes on to the ifland again, intending to cut
down fome trees to make himſelf a hut; look-
ing about, therefore, for the propereft plants,
and


PHILIP QUARLL..
229
and taking notice of a fort of trees, whoſe
branches, bending to the ground, took root and
became a plant, he thought they might be the
fitteft for this purpoſe, and cut a fufficient parcel
of them to make his barrack; which was full
bufinefs for him that day.
The next morning, having paid his uſual de-
votion, he walks out again to look for a plea-
fant and convenient place to make his hut or
barrack upon. He walked feveral hours, and
could find none more ſheltered from the cold
winds than that where he already lay, being in
the middle of the iſland, well fenced on the north
and eaſt fides with trees, which ſtood very thick.
The place being fixed upon, he hews down fome
trees that grew in his way, and clears a ſpot of
ground about twelve feet fquare, leaving one
tree ſtanding at each corner; and, with the
young plants he provided the day before, filled
the diſtance between quite round, fetting them
about fix inches afunder, leaving a larger vacancy
for the door. His incloſure being made, he
bends the branches at the top from both fides,
and weaves them acroſs one another, making a
cover to it, which being ſomething too thin, he
laid other branches over, till they were grown
thicker. Having finiſhed the top, he goes
about clofing the fides; for which purpoſe, tak-
ing large branches, he ftrips off their ſmall
twigs,


230
THE HISTORY OF
twigs, and weaves them between the plants, as
they do for fheep pens, then made a door after
the fame manner.
His barrack being finiſhed, which took him
up fifteen days hard work, "Now," faid he,
"here is a houſe, but where is the furniture ?
"This, indeed, may keep the weather from me,
"but not the cold. The ground on which I do
"and muſt lie, is hard, and, doubtless, in the
"winter, will grow damp, which, with want of
"covering, may occafion agues and fevers, the
"cholic and rheumatiſm, and twenty racking
diftempers, which may caufe me to repent my
"having eſcaped a milder death.”
In this great confternation and perplexity, he
goes to fee if he could fpy any ſhipping riding.
within fight of the island.. As he was walking
along, full of heavy and dull thoughts, which
weighed his looks to the ground, he happened:
to find a fort of high grafs that grows but here
and there, round fome particular fort of trees,
of which he never took notice before. "Heaven.
"be praiſed!" faid he, "I have found where-
"withal to keep my poor body from the ground,
"whilft I am, by Providence, doomed to remain
"here. So paffes on, intending at his return.
to cut down a fufficient quantity of it to make
mats that might ferve him inftead of bed and
bed-cloaths..
66
Having


PHILIP QUARLL.
231
Having looked himſelf almoſt blind, without
feeing the leaſt profpect of what he defired, he
concludes upon going to cut the graſs, which he
ftood in fuch want of, and fpread it to dry,
whilft the weather was yet warm..
That piece
of work kept him employed the remainder of
the day, and beft part of the fucceeding, having
nothing but a pocket knife to cut withal. That
work being done, wanting a tool to ſpread and
turn his grafs, he takes a branch off the next
tree, which, having ftript of all the fmall ones
about it, all but part of that at the top, made a
tolerable fork. Thus being equipped for hay-
making, he went on with his work; and as he
was at it, he faw, at fome diſtance, ſeveral mon-
keys as bufy as himſelf, ſcratching ſomething
out of the ground, which they eat in part upon
the ſpot, and carried the reft to their home.
His hopes that thoſe roots might be for his
uſe, thoſe creatures being naturally dainty, eat-
ing nothing but what men may, made him
haften to the place he faw them ſcratching at,
that by the herb they bear (which they tore off)
he might find out the root.
Having, by the leaves which he picked off
the ground, found fome of the fame, he digs
them up, and carried them to his barrack,
where he broiled a flice of fiſh, and in the aſhes
roafted


232
THE HISTORY OF
roafted them, which eat fomething like chefnuts
done in the fame manner.
This new found-out eatable much rejoiced
him; he returned his hearty thanks to kind Pro-
vidence, that had put him in a way to provide
himſelf with bread, and that of a moft delicious"
kind. As foon, therefore, as he had dined, he"
went out on purpoſe to dig up a good quantity;
but, as he was going to the place where he had
taken notice they grew pretty thick, he ſees a
tortoiſe of about a foot over, crawling before
him: "Heaven be praiſed!" faid he, "here is
"what will ſupply me both with victuals and
"utenfils to drefs it in ;" he ran, therefore, and
turned it on its back, to keep it from getting
away, whilft he went for his hatchet, that he
might cut the bottom ſhell from the top, in or-
der to make a kettle of the deepeſt, and a diſh
of the flat part.
Being tired of cod-fiſh, he dreffes the tortoife,
an animal feldom eaten but upon extremity, the
fleſh thereof often giving the flux; nevertheleſs
he ventured upon it, and liked it extremely,
fome part of it eating very much like veal:
which at that time was a very great novelty to
him, having eaten no freſh meat for a long time
before.
Happening to eat of that part of the tortoiſe;
which is the moft feeding, and lefs hurtful, he
was...


PHILIP QUARLL.
233
1
was in no wife difcompofed; but, having boiled
it all, he laid by the remainder to eat now and
then between his fifh.
Being provided with a boiling utenfil, he often
had change, by means of thofe admirable roots
fo luckily difcovered; fome of which he roafted
for bread, others he boiled with falt cod... This
in a great meaſure mitigated his misfortune, and
foftened the hardſhip he lay under; ſo that
feeing but little profpect of changing his pre-
fent condition, by getting away from thence
yet awhile, he thinks on means to make it as
eafy as poffible whilft he remained in it; for,
having projected a bed, and taking the graſs,
which by that time was dry, he falls to work;
and a mat being the thing concluded upon, he
twiſts his hay into ropes, the bignefs of his leg;
then he cuts a pretty number of fticks, about
two feet long, which he drives into the ground,
ten in a row, and near four inches afunder, and
oppofite to them fuch another row at fix or feven
feet diftance from the firft, which made the
length of his mat; then having faftened one
end of his rope to one of the corner ſticks, he
brings it round the other corner ſtick, and fo to
the next at the other end, till he has laid his
frame; then he weaves acroſs ſhorter ropes of
the fame, in the manner they make pallions on
board with old cable ends. When he had
finiſhed.
·


234
THE HISTORY OF
finished his mat, he beat it with a long ſtick,
which made it fwell up; and the grafs being of
a foft cottony nature, he had a warm and eaſy
bed to lie on.
The comfort and pleaſure he found on his foft.
mat (being grown fore with lying on the ground
for a ſpace of a month or more) fo liberally gra-
tified him for the time and labour he had be
ftowed in making it, that it gave him encourage-
ment to go about another; a covering being the
next neceffary wanted; for though the weather
was as yet pretty warm, and he`in a great
meaſure ſeaſoned by the hardship he had gone
through; yet the winter approaching, and the
preſent ſeaſon being ftill favourable for him to
make proviſion againſt it, he goes and cuts
more grafs, which being made ready for ufe,
he lengthens his loom, to allow for rolling up
at one end, inſtead of a bolfter, and makes it
thicker than the first, which he intends, in cold
weather, ſhall lie upon him inftead of blankets.
Being provided with the moft neceffary fur-
niture he wanted, he thinks on more conveni-
ences, refolving to make himſelf a table to eat
his victuals upon, and a chair to fit on. Thus,
having cut ſeveral ſticks about four feet long, he
drives them in a row a little way in the ground,,
then takes fmaller, which he interweaves be-
tween; having made the top, he fets it upon
four
*


PHILIP QUARLE.
235
[
f
*
1
four other ſticks, forky at the upper end, which
he ftuck in the ground at one fide of his barrack,
to the height of a table; this being done, he
cuts four more branches, fuch as he judged would
do beft for the feat and back of a chair, which he
alfo drove in the ground near his table; and hav-
ing twiſted the branches, which grew to them,
with each other, from back to front, and acroſs
again, he weaves fmaller between, bottoming
his feat; which completes the furniture of his
habitation.
That care being over, another fucceeds, of a
far greater moment: "Here is a dwelling,” faid
he, "to fhelter me from the weather, and a
"bed to reft this poor body of mine; but where
"is food to fupport it? Here I have fubfiſted
"near one month upon a fiſh, which the fame
"dreadful ftorm, that took away forty lives, fent
"me to maintain my own. Well, fince kind
"Providence has been pleaſed to preſerve my
"life preferable to fo many,, who fatally periſhed
"in that difmal accident, I am bound, in grati-
❝tude, to hold it precious; and fince my fiſh is
"almoft gone, and I am not certain of more, I
"muft by degrees bring myſelf to live upon roots,
"which I hope will never be wanting, being the
"natural product of this iſland: ſo I muſt eat of
the fmall remnant of my fiſh but now and then,
"to make it hold out longer. Dainties or plenty
4 were


236
THE HISTORY OF
"were not allotted for him that was doomed to
flavery, but labour and hard living; and, if I
meet here the latter, Heaven be praifed, I
"have efcaped the worfe; I can take my reft,
" and ſtand in no dread of any fevere inſpector
"or tafkmafter."
68
Now being intirely reconciled to the ftate of
life, Providence, on whom he fully depended,
had been pleaſed to call him to, he refolves to
make provifion of thofe excellent roots; and
with his hatchet he cuts a piece of a tree, where-
with he makes a fhovel, in order to dig them up
with more eaſe: with this inftrument he went
to the place where he had obferved they grew.
thickeft, which being near the monkeys quar-
ters, they came down from off their trees in
great numbers, grinning as if they would have
flown at him; which made him ſtop awhile.
He might, indeed, with the inftrument in his
hand, have killed feveral, and perhaps difperfed
the reft; but would not: "Why," faid he,
"ſhould I add barbarity to injuftice? It is but
"natural and reaſonable for all creatures to
*
26
guard and defend their own: this was given.
"them by nature for food, which I am come to
rob them of: and fince I am obliged to get of
"them for my fubfiftence, if I am decreed to be
"here another feafon, I will fet fome in a place
“diſtant from theirs for my own ufc."
Having


PHILIP QUARLL.
-237
Having ftood ſtill a confiderable time, thoſe
animals, ſeeing he did not go forwards, each
went and ſcratched up for itſelf, afterwards re-
tiring; giving him the opportunity to dig up a
few for himſelf; and as he was not come to the
place where they grew thick, he laid them in
fmall heaps as he dug them up; while thoſe fly
creatures would, whilft he was digging up more,
come down from the trees where they ſtood hid
among the leaves, and ſteal them away; which
obliged him to be contented for that time with
as many as his pockets would hold, refolving to
bring fomething next time which would contain
a larger quantity; and fearing thoſe animals,
which are naturally very cunning, fhould dig
them up, and hide them, he comes early the
morning following to make his proviſion; and
for want of a fack to put them in, he takes his
jacket, which he buttons up, and ties at the
fleeves; and as he had obferved, that every root
*had abundance of little off-ſets hanging at it by
fmall fibres, he pulled off his fhirt alſo, of which
The makes another fack, to put them in..
Being naked, all but his breeches, and the day
being pretty hot, he thought he had as good pull
them off too, and fill them, his jacket being but
fhort, and therefore holding but few; taking,
therefore, his bundle in one arm, and having the
hovel in the other hand, he goes to the place
he


238
THE HISTORY OF
he intended to do the day before; and expect
ing to find the fame oppofition as he did then,
he brought with him fome of the roots he had
dug up the preceding day, in order to throw
them amongſt thofe animals, and fo quiet them;
but to his great wonder, and as great fatisfaction,
thofe creatures, which the time before had op-
pofed him with noife and offenfive motions, let
him now paſs by quietly, without offering to
meddle with any when dug up, though he had
laid them up by heaps in their way, and ſtood at
a confiderable diſtance from them.
This ſurpriſing reverence from thofe creatures..
fet him upon deep reflections on what could be
the cauſe thereof; whether it might not proceed
from the proximity of their fhape and his: "but,
then," faid he, "my ftature and colour of ſkin
is fo different from theirs, that they cannot but
diſtinguiſh I am not of their kind: no, it muſt
be a remnant of that awe, entailed by nature
upon all animals, to that moft noble and com-
plete mafter-piece of the creation, called Man,
which, now appearing in the ftate he was firft
created in, and undiſguiſed by cloaths, renews
an image of that refpe&t he has forfeited by his
fatal tranfgreffion, which ever fince obliged him
to hide the beauty of his fabric under a gaudy
difguife, which often renders him ridiculous to
the rest of mankind, and generally obnoxious to
all


PHILIP QUARLL.
239
all other creatures; making a pride of what he
ought to be ashamed of. Well, adds he, fince
my cloaths bred the antipathy, I will remove
that caufe, which will fuit both the nature of
thoſe animals, and my own circumftances."
From that time he refolves to go naked, till the
hardneſs of the weather obliged him to put fome-
thing on.
Having picked up a fufficient quantity of off-
fets to ſtock about two acres of land, he returns
home, leaving behind him a confiderable number
of roots dug up for thoſe poor animals which at-
tended him all the time he was at work, without
offering to touch one till he was gone.
Being come home, he fixes upon a ſpot of
ground near his habitation, and digs it up as well
as he could with his wooden inftrument, in order
to fow his feed; which having compaffed in
about twenty days, he implores a bleſſing upon
his labour, and leaves it to time to bring it forth.
Thus having finiſhed the most neceſſary work
about his barrack, he refolves to take a more
particular view of the island, which till then he
had not time to do; and taking a long ſtaff in
his hand, he walks to the lake, which parts the
land from the rock, and goes along the fide of
it quite round the iſland, finding all the way new
fubjects of admiration: on the left hand ſtood a
rampart made of one folid ftone, adorned by na-
ture


210
THE HISTORY OF
ture with various forms and fhapes, beyond the
power of art to imitate; fome parts challenging
a likeneſs to a city, and cluſters of houſes, with
here and there a high ſteeple ſtanding above the
other buildings; another place claiming a near
refemblance to a diſtant ſquadron of men of war
in a line of battle: farther, it bears compariſon
with the dull remains of fome ſumptuous edifice,
ruined by the often repeated ſhocks of time, in-
citing the beholders to condolence for the lofs
of its former beauty.
At ſome diſtance from thence the profpect of
a demoliſhed city is repreſented to the fight; in
another place large ftones, like ſmall mountains,
laid, as it were, a-top of one another, impreſs
the mind with an idea of the tower of Babel;
and on the right hand a moſt pleaſant land
covered with beautiful green graſs, like chamo-
mile, and here and there a cluſter of trees, com-
pofing moft agreeable groves, amongſt a vaſt
number of fine lofty trees of divers heights and
ſhapes, which ſtood more diftant, whoſe irregu-
larity added to the delightfulneſs of the place.
As he was a walking on, admiring all theſe
wonderful works of nature, having caught cold
(not being uſed to go naked), he happened to
fneeze oppofite to a place in the rock, which
hollowed in after the manner of the infide of
fome cathedral, and was anfwered by a multi-
tude


PHILIP QUARLL.
241
#
3
tude of different voices iffuing from that place.
The agreeableneſs of the furprize induced him
to roufe thofe echoes a fecond time, by giving a
loud hem; which was, like his fneezing, re-
peated in different tones, but all very harmoni-
ous; again he hem'd, and was ſo delighted with
the repetition, that he could have ſpent hours in
the hearing of it. "But why fhould I," ſaid he,
"wafte thofe melodious founds, fo fit to relate
"the Almighty's wonderful works, and ſet forth
"his praife?" Immediately he fang feveral
pfalms and hymns with as much emulation and
devotion, as if he had been in company with
numbers of fkilful and celebrated choriſters.
Having ſpent a confiderable time there with
much pleaſure, he proceeds in his walk, being
refolved to make that his place of worſhip for
the future, and attend it twice a day conſtantly.
About three or four hundred paces farther,
having turned on the other fide of a jetting out
part of the rock, he was ftopt a fecond time by
another furprizing product of nature; a large
ſtone, growing out of the rock, adyancing quite
over the lake at the bottom of it, reprefenting
fomething of a human ſhape, out of the breaſt
whereof iffued a fountain of exceeding clear
water, as fweet as milk, and, when looked at
fronting, was like an antique piece of architec-
ture, which in old times they built over particular
M
fprings;


242
THE HISTORY OF
.
fprings; and on the other fide appeared as if
fpringing from the noftrils of a fea horſe. Theſe
three fo very different and yet rightly compared
likeneffes, being offered by one and the fame
unaltered object, made him curious to examine
what parts of every refemblance helped to make
the others; and having ſpent a confiderable time
in the examination, he found every thing, `which
the front had likenefs of, was employed in mak-
ing the fide reprefentation, by being in fome
places fhortened, and others lengthened, accord-
ing to the point of fight.
Being fatisfied about that ſubject, he enters
upon another as puzzling: the bafon in which
the fountain ran, which was about five yards
diftant from whence the water did fpring, being
but about nine feet over every way, without any
vifible place to evacuate its over complement,
and yet keeping the fame height, without dafh-
ing or running over, altho' the ftream that fell
into it ran as big as his wrift. Having a long
time fearched into the caufe, without any fatis-
faction, he conjectures it must make its way out
fomewhere under ground; fo went on, till he
came to the place he had begun his march at,
which ended that day's work.
f
Having been round the island, which, to the
beſt of his judgment, was about ten or eleven
miles in circumference, of an oblong form, going
in


PHILIP QUARLL.
243
J
I
in and out in feveral places, extending from
north to fouth, the fouth end near twice as broad
as the oppofite; he refolves to employ the next
day in viewing the infide.
So the next morning he walks along the land,
which he found very level, covered with a de-,
lightful green grafs, and adorned with trees of
divers forts, shapes, and height, inhabited with
feveral forts of curious finging birds, of various
colours and notes, which entertained him with
their melodious harmony. In fome places ftood
a cluſter of trees, compofing agreeable and de-
lightful groves, proceeding from only one main
body, whofe lower branches, being come to a
certain length, applied to the earth for immedi-
ate nouriſhment, as it were, to eafe the old ftem
that produced them; and fo became a plant,
and did the fame.
1
Having for fome time admired the agreeable-
nefs and curiofity of the plant, by which nature
feemed to give human kind inftructions; and
looking about, if perchance he could find any
thing in his way for his own proper ufe, he took
along with him a fample of every different herb
he thought might be eatable. Croffing the iſland
in feveral places, he came to a moſt delightful
pond, about two hundred yards in length, and
one hundred and fifty wide, with fine trees
fpreading their branchy limbs over its brink,
M 2
which


244
THE HISTORY OF
which was furrounded with a beautiful bank,
covered with divers kinds of flowers and herbs,
fo naturally intermixed, which completed it in
ornament and conveniency, as though intended
by nature for more than mortal's uſe.
Ci
Having walked feveral times round it with
much pleaſure, he fat down a while upon its
bank, to admire the clearnefs of the water,
through which, to his great comfort, he faw
many different forts of fifh, of various fizes,
fhapes and colours. "Heaven be praiſed!"
faid he, "here is a flock of fresh water fiſh to
fupply me with food, if the ſea ſhould fail me."
Being fufficiently diverted with their chafing
one another, which were of many beautiful and
different colours, and a moſt delightful ſcene, he
proceeds in his walk, and goes to the fouth of
the iſland, where he finds another fubject of ad-
miration, a noble and fpacious wood, whofe
fhades feemed to be made for the abode of peace
and pleaſure. He walked round it with much
delight, which made the time feem thort; yet
he could guefs it to be no lefs than two miles
about.
Having viewed the outfide, whofe extraordi-
nary agreeablenefs incited in him an unfur-
mountable defire to get into it, but where he
was afraid to venture, left there might be de-
ftructive creatures; yet, having recommended
himfelf


PHILIP QUARLL.
245
ť
T
himſelf to the care of Providence, he ventured
into it, finding feveral pleaſant walks, fome
ftraight, edged with lofty trees, as though planted
for pleaſure; others crooked and winding, bor-
dered with a thick hedge of pimentoes, which
caft a moft fragrant fmell; here and there a
large clufter of buſhes and dwarf trees, wherein
fheltered feveral different kinds of wild beafts
and fowls: "Sure," faid he, "this island never
"was intended by nature to lie wafte, but ra-
"ther referved to be the happy abode of fome,
for whom Heaven had a peculiar bleffing in
ftore. Here is every thing fufficient, not only
for the fupport, but alſo for the pleaſure of
life: Heaven make me thankful, that I am
"the happy inhabitant of fo bleffed a land !";
Being hungry, and tired with walking, he goes
home in order to get fome victuals, and having
made a fire, he boils a flice of his falt fifh with
fome roots, and then the herbs he brought with
him, which proved of divers taftes, and all ex-
cellent; fome eating like artichoaks, others like
afparagus and fpinach. "Now," faid he, "what
can I wish for more!" Here I poffefs a plenti-
"ful land, which produces both fleſh and fiſh;
"bears excellent greens and roots, and affords
"the beſt of water, which by nature was or-
"dained for man's drink. Pomp and greatneſs
"are but pageantry, which oftentimes prove
M 3
"more
+30


246
THE HISTORY OF 1
"more prejudicial to the actor, than diverting
"to the beholder; eafe and indulgence are apt
to breed the gout, and various distempers,
"which make the rich more wretched than the
46 poor; now thefe evils, thanks to my Maker!
"I ſtand in no danger of, having but what is
fufficient, which never can do any harm."
Thus thoroughly eafy in his mind, he propofes
to fpend the afternoon at the outfide of the rock,
in viewing the fea, and looking for oyfters; fo
takes in his hand his long ftaff to grapple in
holes; and his breeches, which he ties at the
knees, to bring them in. Being come to a place
of the rock he never had been at before, he fees
at a diſtance ſomething like linen hanging upon
it, which, when he came at, he found to be the
main-fail of a fhip, with a piece of the yard
faftened to it: "Alas!" faid he, "a difmal
"token of infatiable ambition! which makes
"men often lofe their lives in feeking what they
"feldom find; and, if they ever do, 'tis com-
monly attended with a world of care. Happy
“is he who limits his defires to his ability, af-
"piring not above his reach, and is contented
"with what nature requires." Then he falls a
ripping the sheet from the yard, which he finds
in one place tied with one of his garters, (hav-
ing himſelf made ufe of it for want of another
ftring) "Heaven be praiſed " ſaid he, “this is
no
teri
66


PHILIP QUARLL.~
247
*
"
"no effect of another fhipwreck, but a fragment
"of the unfortunate fhip, whofe lofs was my
redemption;" which reflection made him thed
86
tears.
Having ripped the fail in pieces, he rolls them
in fuch bundles as he could conveniently carry,
and lays them down till he had got a few oyſters,
proceeding to grope in holes with his ſtick as he
went on.
About forty paces farther, he finds a cheft in
the clift of the rock, which had been waſhed up
there by the violence of the late form: "Hea
"ven!" faid he, "more fatal effects of fate's
"cruelty and man's temerity! Was the fea
"made for man to travel on? Is there not land
"enough for his rambling mind to rove? Muft
"he hunt after dangers, and put death to defi-.
"ance? What is the owner of this the better.
"for it now? Or who can be the better in a place
"fo remote, and the acceſs to it fo difficult? be-
"ing not to be approached but on the wings of
"Providence, and over the back of death. Now,
"was this full of maffy gold, or yet richer things,
"I thank my God, I am above the ufe of it; yet
"I'll take it home; it was fent hither by Provi-
"dence, perhaps for the relief of fome fo ne-1
"ceffitated and deftitute." Then going to lift it,
he could not; therefore was obliged to fetch his
hatchet to beat it open, that he might take away
what


248
THE HISTORY OF
what was in it by degrees. Having taken as
much of the fail cloth as he could conveniently
carry, with the few oyfters he had got, he went
home and fetched the tool, wherewith he
wrenched the cheft open, from which he took a
fuit of cloaths and fome wearing linen: "Thefe,"
faid he,
"neither the owner nor I want;" fo
laid them down; the next thing he took out
was a roll of feveral fheets of parchment, being
blank indentures and leafes: "Thefe," faid he,
are inftruments of the law, and often applied.
"to injuftice; but I'll alter their mifchievous
properties, and make them records of Hea-
"yen's mercies, and Providence's wonderful
liberality to me; fo, inftead of being the ruin
"of fome, they may chance to be the reclaim-
16
t
66
ing of others." At the bottom of the cheft
lay a runlet of brandy, a Cheſhire cheeſe, a lea-
ther bottle full of ink, with a parcel of pens,
and a penknife: "As for thefe," faid he, " "they
are of ufe; the pens, ink, and parchment
"have equipped me to keep a journal, which
"will divert and pafs away a few anxious hours;
"as for the cheeſe and brandy, they will but
caufe me new cares: before I had them, I
"wanted them not; now, the benefit and com-
"fort I fhall find in them, when gone, will
"make me hanker after them more; I wish I
"had ftill been without them; but now they
5.
"are
"C
("
66
1


PHILIP QUARLL.
249
T
"are here, it would be a fin to let them be
"loft. I'll take them home, and only ufe them
"at my need; which will both make them hold
out the longer, and me grow lefs fond of
"them."
"W
2
J
1
So, by degrees, he takes home the cheft, and
what was in it; and now having materials to
begin his journal, he immediately fell to work;
that for want of other books, he might, at his
leifure, perufe his paft tranfactions, and the
many mercies he had received from Heaven;"
and that, after his deceaſe, whoever is directed
thither by Providence, upon reading his won-
derful eſcapes in the greateſt of dangers; his
miraculous living, when remote from human
affiftance; in the extremity, might not deſpair.
Thus he begins from his being eight years old
(as well as he can remember, he heard an old
aunt of his fay) to the day of his being caft away,
being then twenty-eight years of age, refolving
to continue it to his death.
He now refolves to make provifion against
winter, and the feafon being pretty far advanced,
he gathers a good store of fucf and roots, begins
to line the outfide of his barrack with a wall of
turf, and lays the fame at top, to keep out the
wet. And as he now and then found fmall
fhell-fish and oyfters upon the rock, he makes
a bridge over the lake, which in warm weather
M 5.
he


250
THE HISTORY OF
he uſed to wade, that in the winter he might
go over dry. So, having completed his bridge,
which was made of two ftrong poles, which
reached from the land to the rock, and ſeveral
leffer branches laid acrofs pretty clofe, he re-
tires home, the day being far fpent. The fol-
lowing night there arofe a violent ftorm, attend-
ed with dreadful claps of thunder, which the
many echoes from the rock rendered more ter-
rible; and lightnings, flaſhing in a moſt fright-
ful manner, fucceeding each other, before the
preceding was well out of the ſky, which put
poor loneſome Quarll in fuch a confternation,
that notwithſtanding his reliance on Heaven's
protection, he would have given the world (had
it been in his poffeffion) to have been within
the reach of human affiftance; or at leaſt to
have ſome company; folitude adding much to
his terror and affliction.
The glorious rifing of the next morning's fun
having laid the mortifying rage of the bluſtering
winds, Quarll, whofe late alarm was hardly
quelled, ftill fufpecting its moft reviving rays to
be terrifying glances and flashes of lightning;
but having lain awhile, and hearing no noife,
but that which ftill raged in his mind, was at
laft convinced the ftorm was over; and fo gets
up with a refolution to go and fee if he could
difcern any effect of the late tempeſt.
Jurit
Being


PHILIP QUARLL.
251
W
Being come at the other fide of the rock, he
faw indeed ſurpriſing objects, but not afflicting;
the miſchief that was done, being to the inhabi-
tants of the fea only, a vaft number of which
had, by the wind, been difelemented: a quantity
of ftately whitings, fine mackerels, large her-
rings, divers fizes of codlings, and feveral other
forts of fiſh, with a great number of fhells, of
different ſhapes and bigneffes, lying up and down
upon the rock. "Heaven be praiſed !" ſaid he,
"inſtead of damage to bewail, what thanks have
"I now to return for this mighty benefit! Here
"the powerful agent of miſchief is, by kind
"Providence, made a minifter of good to me:
"make me thankful! I am now provided for
"all the next winter, and yet longer, by which
"time I am certain to have a freſh ſupply."..!
Thus having taken up as many fiſh as he
could hold in his arms, he carries them home,
and brings his fhirt, which he ufed inftead of a
fack; fo, at feveral times, he brought away all
the fifh, and as many of the fhells as he had oc-
cafion for; of fome of which he made boilers
and ftewpans, of others difhes and plates: fome
he kept water in, and others fifh in pickle; fo
that he was ſtocked with neceſſary veffels as
well as provifion.
Being very weary with often going backwards
and forwards with his fish, which took up all
M 6
that


252
THE HISTORY OF
that day to bring them home, he fits down to
reft himſelf; and the runlet of brandy lying by,
he was tempted to take a fup, which was at that
time very much wanted, his fpirits being very
low; but was loth to tafte it, left he should
grow fond of the liquor, and grieve after it when
gone: fome moments were ſpent before he
could come to a refolution; at laft, having con-
fidered the uſe of it, which fuited the prefent
occafion, he concludes to take a dram, and to
ufe it like a cordial, which it was firft intended
for; but the veffel out of which he drank being
at his mouth, the cordial turns to a nectar; one
gulp decoys another down; fo the intended
dram became a hearty draught. The pleaſant-
nefs of the liquor made him forget its nature;
fo that poor Quarll, who had, for the ſpace of
near three months before, drank nothing but
water, was prefently overcome with the ftrength
of the brandy, and fell aſleep in his chair, with
the runlet on his bare lap, from whence it foon
fell to the ground, and, being unſtopt, ran all
out.
1
L
Being awaked with hunger, having flept from
evening till almoft noon of another day, which
he knew not whether the fuccecding or the next
to it; feeing what had happened, he was forely
vexed, and could have wept at the accident;
but confidering the liquor which occafioned it
might


PHILIP QUARLL.
7253
C
might perhaps, in time, have cauſed greater miſ-
chief, he was foon reconciled to the lofs, but
could not with that of the right order of the
days, which having entirely forgot, hindered the
going on of his journal; fo was obliged to make
only a memorial. That damage being repair-
ed, another appears of a far greater confequence;
the Sunday is loft, which he had fo carefully
obferved to that time: how can that be made
up? "Now," faid he, "fhall I daily be in
<<
danger of breaking the fabbath, knowing not
"the day. O fatal liquor! that ever thou wert
"invented to cauſe fo much mischief! But why
"fhould I lay the blame upon the ufe, when it
"is the abufe that does the hurt? and exclaim
"againſt a thing which, being taken in modera-
❝tion, is of fo great a benefit, reviving a faint-
"ing heart, raiſing finking fpirits, warming cold
"and decayed nature, and affuaging feveral
pains." So blames himſelf highly for gratify-
ing his appetite with that wherewith he only
ought to have refreſhed nature; and fince that
often mifguided faculty had prompted him to
commit the fault, he dedicated that day, in
which he became fenfible of it, to prayers and
fafting; and every feventh from that he fets
apart for divine worship only, which he hoped
would keep him from breaking the command-
ments for keeping holy the fabbath day: fo
went
66


254
THE HISTORY OF
1.
}
went to the place where the echoes, in many
different and melodious founds, repeated his
thankſgiving to the Almighty, which he had
fixed upon to pay his devotion, and there ſpent
the reft of the day in prayers and finging of
pfalms.
The next morning, having breakfaſted with
fome of his ufual bread, and a flice of the
cheeſe he found in the cheft, he goes about
curing his fish, in order to falt them: having laid
by as many for the prefent uſe as he thought he
could eat whilft freth, he improves the fair wea-
ther, to dry one part of the remainder, and
keeps the reft in pickle.
The winter being near at hand, and the wea-
ther growing damp and cold, hinders him from
taking his walks; fo being confined within doors,
he employs his idle hours in beautifying his
utenfils, which were not to be uſed on the fire;
and bestowed fome pains in ſcraping and poliſh-
ing the reft of his fhells, fome as fine as though
they had been nakers of pearl; which made
them not only more fit for their intended uſes,
but alſo a great ornament to his barrack, which
he fhelved round with plaited twigs after the
manner of his table, and fo ſet them upon it.
Thus he spent the beft part of the winter;
making no farther remarks, but that it was very
sharp, attended with high winds, abundance of
hail


PHILIP QUARLL.
255
$
A
hail and fnow, which obliged him to make a
broom to fweep it away from about his hut,
which otherwiſe would have been damaged by
it.
But fhivering winter, having exhauſted his
frofty ftores, and weary with vexing nature, re-
tired; Boreas alfo, grown faint with hard blow-
ing, is forced to retreat into his cave; gentle Ze-
phyrus (who till then kept up in his temperate
cell) now comes forth to ufher in the blooming
fpring; fo mildly flips on to inform Nature of
her favourite's approach, who at the joyful news
puts on her gay enamelled garb, and out of her
rich wardrobe ſupplies all vegetables with new
vefture, to welcome the moſt lovely gueft. The
feathered chorifters alfo receive new ftrength;
their tender lungs are repaired from the injuries
the foggy and mifty air did occafion; and, thus
revived, are placed on every budding tree, to
grace his entrance with their harmonious notes.
Quarll alſo, whom bad weather had confined
within doors a confiderable time, which had in
a great meaſure numbed his limbs, and dulled
his fenfes, now finds himſelf quite revived: he
no longer can keep within; the fair weather in-
vites him out; the finging birds on every fide
call to him; nature itſelf fetches him out to be-
hold her treaſures.
Having with unfpeakable pleaſure walked
fome


256
THE HISTORY OF
fome time, diverted with the fweet melody of
various finging birds, and the fight of abundance
of different forts of bloffomed trees, and bloom-
ing flowers; all things within the iſland infpir-
ing joy; he had the curiofity to go and view the
fea; fo goes over his bridge; and then, at the
other fide of the rock, where he finds more ob-
jects, requiring as much admiration, but affording
a great deal lets plcafure; vaft mountains of ice,
floating up and down, threatening all that came
in their way.
Theſe terrible effects of the winter, which to
that time he was a ftranger to, occafioned his
making thefe reflections:
He who on billows roves, riches or wealth to gain,
Is ever in danger, and labours oft in vain;
It fortune on him fmiles, giving his toil fuccefs,
Each ay new cares arife, which mar his happineſs.
L
The only treature then worth laying up in ſtore,
Is a contented mind which never leaves one poor;
He is not truly rich who hankers after more.
So, having returned Heaven thanks for his
happy ſtate, he creeps to the north-eaft fide of
the rock, at the foot of which lay an extraordi-
nary large whale, which the late high wind had.
caft there, and died for want of water. "If
"this," faid he, "is all the damage that has been
"done laft winter, it may be borne;" fo went
down, and meaſured the length of it, which was
1
above


PHILIP QUARLE.
257
1
"
1
above thirty yards, and proportionable in big-
nefs: there were fhoals of fmall fithes fwimming
about it in the fhallow water wherein it lay, as
rejoicing at its death. Thus," faid he," the
oppreffed rejoice at a tyrant's. fall. What
"numbers of thefe have been deftroyed to make
"this monstrous bulk of fat! Well, happy are
they, who, like me, are under Heaven's go-
"vernment only." So with his knife, which
he always carried in his pocket, cuts ſeveral
flices of the whale, and throws them to the
finall fishes, faying, "It is but juſt ye ſhould at
"laft feed on that which fo long fed on you."
As oil ran, in abundance, from the places he had
cut the flices out of, it vexed him to fee that
wafted, which might turn to good money: "But
why," faid he, "fhould I be diſturbed at it?
"What uſe have I for any? Providence takes
"none, it gives me all gratis." So goes on
feeling for oyſters with his ftaff, which he al-
ways walked with.
66
66
66
Having at laſt found a hole, where by their
rattling at the bottom with his ftaff, he judged
there might be a pretty many, he marks the
place, and goes home to contrive fome inftru-
ment to drag them up, being yet too cold for
him to go in the water; and as he had no tool
but his knife and hatchet, both improper to
make a hole in a board, as requifite to make a
rake
•


258
THE HISTORY OF
rake, which was wanting for that purpoſe: he
beats out the end of his cheft, in which there
was a knot: ſo having driven it out, he faftens
the ſmall end of a pole to it. Thus equipped,
he went and raked up oyfters, which added one
diſh to his ordinary, and fauce to others; yet at
length his ftomach growing qualmiſh with cat-
ing altogether fith, and drinking nothing but
water withal, he wishes he could have a little
fleſh, which he might eaſily, there being ani-
mals enough in the wood apparently fit for food;
but then he must deprive them of their lives,
barely to make his own more eaſy.
Thus he debates with himſelf for fome time,
whether or no it would not be injuſtice for him
(who only by a providential accident was
brought thither to ſave his life) now to deſtroy
thoſe creatures, to whom nature has given a
being, in a land out of man's reach to diſturb:
yet nature requires what feems to be againſt na-
ture for me to grant: I am faint, and like to
grow worſe, the longer I abſtain from fleſh.
Having paufed a while; " Why," faid he,
"fhould I be fo fcrupulous? Were not all things
"created for the uſe of man? Now, whether it
"is not worſe to let a man periſh, than to de-
"ftroy any other creature for his relief? Nature
"craves it, and Providence gives it: now, not
"to uſe it in neceffity, is undervaluing the gift."
Sa


PHILIP QUARLL.
259
So having concluded upon catching ſome of
thoſe animals he had feen in the wood, he con-
fiders by what means, having no dogs to hunt,
nor guns to fhoot. Having paufed a while, he
refolves upon making gins, wherewith he had
feen hares catched in Europe: thus taking fome
of the cords which he found with the fail at the
outfide of the rock, he goes to work, and makes
feveral, which he faftens at divers gaps in the
thickſet within the wood, through which he judg-
ed that fort of beaſt, he had a mind for, went.
Impatient to know the fuccefs of his fnares,
he gets up betimes the next morning, and goes to
examine them; in one he found a certain ani-
mal fomething like a fawn, the colour of a deer,
but feet and ears like a fox, and as big as a well-
grown hare. He was much rejoiced at his game,
whoſe mouth he immediately opened, to fee if
he could find out whether it fed upon grafs, or
lived upon prey: the creature being caught by
the neck, and ſtrangled with ftruggling, before it
died, had brought up in its throat fome of the
greens it had been eating, which very much
pleafed him; accounting thoſe which lived upon
fleſh as bad as carrion.
Having returned thanks for his good luck, he
takes it home in order to drefs part of it for his
dinner; fo cafes and guts it: but it proving to be
a female, big with three young ones, grieved him
to


260
THE HISTORY OF
to the heart, and made him repent making thofe
killing noofes. "What pity," ſaid he, that fo
many lives fhould be loft, and creatures wafted!
"One would have ferved me four days; and here
" are four killed at once. Well, henceforth, to
"prevent the like evil, I will take alive what I
(6
juſt want, and fave all the females." So,
having stuck a long ftick at both ends in the
ground, making a half circle, he hangs one quar-
ter of the animal upon a ftring before a good
fire, and fo roafts it.
*
His dinner being ready, having faid grace, he
fet to eating with an uncommon appetite; and,
whether it was the novelty of the difh, or that
the meat did really deferve the praife, he really
thought he never eat any thing of flesh, till then,
comparable to it, either for taſte or tenderneſs.
Having dined both plentifully and deliciouſly,
he moſt zealouſly returns kind Providence thanks
for the late, and all favours received; then pur-
fuant to his refolution, he goes to making nets, in
order to take his game alive for the future; and as
he had no fmall twine to make it with, he was
obliged to unravel fome of the fail which he luck-
ily had by him; and with the thread, twiſted ſome
of the bignefs he judged proper for that uſe.
Having made a fufficient quantity, he makes
a couple of nets, about four feet fquare, which
he faſtens in the room of the killing fnares; fo
fo
"


PHILIP QUARLL.
261
J
j
1
fo retired, and refolved to come and examine
them every morning.
Several days paffed without taking any thing,
fo that he wanted fleſh for a whole week, which
did begin to diforder his ftomach, but not his
temper; being entirely refigned to the will of
Providence, and fully contented with whatever
Heaven was pleaſed to fend.
One afternoon, which was not his cuftomary
time of day to examine his nets, being too viſible
in the day time for game to run in; he happened
to walk in the wood, to take the full dimenfions
thereof, fo chanced to go by his nets; in one of
which were taken two animals, as big as a kid
fix weeks old, of a bright dun, their horns up-
right and ftraight, their ſhape like a ſtag, moſt
curioufly limbed, a fmall tuft of hair on each
fhoulder and hip. By their horns, which were
but fhort, they appeared to be very young,
which rejoiced him the more, being in hopes to
tame thofe which he did not want for preſent/
ufe; fo carried them home joyful of his game,
depending upon a good dinner; but was fadly
diſappointed: the animals he found were ante-
lopes (calling to mind he had feen them in his
travels), which proving both females, he had made
a refolution to preferve. Though they were too
young to be with kid, and he in great need of
fleſh, yet he would not kill them; fo with cords
faftens
$
.
P
1
11
1
7
1


262
THE HISTORY OF
faftens them to the outfide of his lodge; and with
conftant feeding them, in two months time made
them fo tame, that they followed him up and
down; which added much to the pleaſure he al-
ready took in his habitation, which by that time
was covered with green leaves, both top and fides;
the ſtakes it was made of having ſtruck root, and
fhot out young branches, whofe ftrength increaf-
ing that fummer, to fill up the vacancy between
each plant, he pulled the turfs wherewith he had
covered the outfide and top of the hut between
them, to keep the cold out in the winter.
His former hut, being now become a pleaſant
arbour, gave him encouragement to beſtow
fome pains about it towards the embelliſhment
of it, which feemed to depend on being well at-
tended. He refolved upon keeping it pruned
and watered, the better to make it grow thick
and faft, which anſwered his intent; for in three
years time, the ſtems of every plant that com-
pofed the arbour, were grown quite clofe, and
made a folid wall of about fix inches thick,
covered with green leaves without, which lay
moft regular and even, and within had a moſt
agreeable ſmooth bark, of a pleaſant olive colour.
His late arbour being, by his care and time, and
nature's affiftance, become a matchlefs lodge, as in-
tended by nature for fomething more than human
gueſts, he now confults to make it as commodi-
14
ous


PHILIP QUARLL.
263
66
ous as beautiful. "Here is," faid he, "a de-
lightful dwelling, warm in the winter, and cool
"in the fummer; delightful to the eye, and com-
"fortable to the body; pity it ſhould be em-
ployed to any uſe but repofe and delight!"
So refolved upon making a kitchen near it. Thus
having fixed upon a place convenient at the fide
of his lodge, about fix feet from it, twelve in
length, and eight in breadth, which he enclofed
with the turfs that covered the outfide of his ar-
bour, before it was fufficiently thick to keep out
the cold; then having laid ſticks acroſs the top
of the walls, which were about eight feet high,
he lays turf thereon, and fo covers it, leaving an
open place for the finoke to go out.
The outfide being done, he goes about infide
neceffaries, as fire-places to roaſt and boil at;
thus cuts a hole in the ground, at a ſmall diſtance
from the wall, after the manner of ftew-ftoves in
noblemens' kitchens; then, at another place, he
fets two flat ſtones, about eight or nine inches
broad, and one foot long, edgeways, oppofite to
one another, near two feet aſunder; then puts a
third in the fame manner, at the end of the other
two; fo makes a fire-place fit to roaſt at: then, for
other conveniences, he weaves twigs about fticks,
ftuck in the wall on one fide of the kitchen,
where he lays the fhells fit for utenfils, which
both adorned and furnished it.
66
Having


264
THE HISTORY OF
Having completed that piece of work, he goes
and vifits his plantations, which he finds in a
thriving condition; the roots being, in fix months
time, grown from the bignefs of a pea (as they
were when firſt ſet) to that of an egg: his ante-
lopes alfo were come to their full growth and
complete beauty, which exceeded moft four-
footed beafts, having a majeftic prefence, body
and limbs repreſenting a ftag, and the noble
march of a horfe: fo every thing concurred to
his happinefs. For which having returned his
moſt liberal benefactor his grateful acknowledg-
ments, he thinks on means to prevent any ob-
ftructions that may intercept the continuation
thereof; and as the want of cloaths was the only
cauſe he could think of to make him uneafy,
having but the jacket and hoſe which were given
him on board, to fave his own cloaths, which
when worn out he could not recruit; therefore,
to accuftom hiinfelf to go without, he leffens
thofe he had, and takes away the lining from the
outfide, in order to wear the thickeft in the cold-
eft weather, and fo thins his dreſs by degrees,
till at last he went quite naked.
Having thus concluded, as being the beſt ſhift
neceffity could raiſe him, he falls to ripping his
jacket, in the lining whereof he finds feven peas
and three beans, which were got in a hole at
the corner of his pocket.
Thofe


PHILIP QUARLL.
265
66
Thoſe few made him wifh for more, which
he had no room to hope for, they being raiſed
by feed, which the island did not produce:-
"Theſe few," faid he, "which at prefent are
"hardly fufficient to fatisfy a woman's longing,,,
may, with time and induſtry, be improved to
a quantity large enough to ferve me for a
"meal;" then lays them up againſt a proper
time to fet them; ſo ſpent the remainder of that
fummer in walking about the iſland, watering his
lodge, weeding his root plantation, attending his
nets, which now and then ſupplied him with an
antelope or goat, to eat at intervals between fiſh
he commonly found on the rock after high winds
and ſtorms; never failing to viſit the ſea three or
four times a week, according as the weather did
prove; thus diverting many anxious hours with
variety of objects that element affords. Some-
times he had the pleaſure of feeing great whales
chafing one another, fpouting large ftreams of
water out of their gills and noftrils; at other
times, numbers of beautiful dolphins rolling
amongſt the waves; now and then a quantity of
ftrange monftrous fifh playing on the ſurface of
the fea, fome whereof had heads (not common
to fishes) like thoſe of hogs; others not unlike
thofe of dogs, calves, horfes, lions, bulls, goats,
and feveral other creatures: fome chafing another
fort; which to avoid being taken, would quit
their
N
66


266
THE HISTORY OF
their element, and feck refuge in the air, and fly
fome yards above the water; till their fins being
dry, obliged them to plunge in again.
Theſe paſtimes being generally fucceeded with
bad weather, and dreadful ftorms, checked the
pleaſure they gave with a dread of the evil that
threatened to follow. Thus commiferating the
cafe of thoſe whofe misfortune is to be expoſed
to them; having ſpent fome time in reflection,
he goes to his uſual devotion, and calling to
mind, that in all that time he never faw a young
fiſh in the pond, he conjectured that ſomething
might deftroy the fmall ones; and as he ima-
gined fo it proved: for at his approach, a large
fowl flew out of the pond with a fiſh in its bill,
being too large for it to fwallow...
At that diſtance, the bird being alfo upon the
wing, he could neither difcern colour nor make;
but he had the fatisfaction of diſcovering the
cauſe why the fiſhes did not increaſe, they being
devoured when young by that creature; which
to prevent for the future, he ftudies means to kill
the deſtroyer, nets not being proper inftruments;
it being requifite, for that purpoſe, to have one
all round, as alfo to cover the pond, which was
impoffible by reaſon of its largeneſs; and a lefs
being of no uſe, the birds probably not coming
to one certain place. He wished for a gun and
ammunition fitting, as being the moſt probable
things


PHILIP QUARLL.
267
things to fucceed; but no fuch inftrument being
within his reach, he ponders again; during
which time, a crofs-bow offers itſelf to his mind,
but is as diftant from his reach as the gun. It is
true, there was ftuff enough in the island to
make many, but no tools but a hatchet and
pocket knife, wherewith, if he made ſhift to cut
and ſhape a bow, he could not make a latch and
fpring neceffary to it; fo he muſt not think on
it: yet, a bow being the only thing he could
apply to, he goes about one forthwith. Thus
having picked a branch of a tree, which had the
reſemblance of yew, and as tough, of which
they are ſometimes made, he, with the tools he
had, made a ſhift to make one about fix feet
long, and arrows of the fame, which he hardens
and ftraightens over the fire, then having flit
them at one end, about two or three inches, he
flips in a bit of parchment, cut ſharp at one end,
and about three inches at the other, then ties the
end clofe, to keep it in, which ferved for feathers;
and, with the ravelling of fome of the fail, he
makes a ftring to it.
Thus equipped for an archer, wanting nothing
but ſkill, which is only to be gained by practice,
he daily exerciſes ſhooting at a mark for the ſpace
of a fortnight; in which time he made fuch an
improvement, that at three ſhoots he would hit a
mark
N 2


268
THE HISTORY OF
mark of about three inches fquare, at near fifty
paces diſtance.
Being fufficiently fkilled, he goes and lies in
wait for his defired game; fo placed himſelf be-
hind a tree, as near the pond as he could, whi-
ther the bird came in a few hours after.
The creature being pitched upon the bank,
never ſtood ſtill, but kept running round, watch-
ing for a fizeable fiſh fit to ſwallow; ſo that he
had no opportunity to foot; till having, at laſt,
efpied out one, it launched itſelf into the pond,
but rofe more flowly, which gave him time to
take aim: nevertheleſs, he miffed it being in
motion; but when come to the top, he ftruck it
through the body as it opened its wings, and laid
it flat on the other fide of the pond. He took it
up, wonderfully pleafed at his good fuccefs the
firft time of his practiſing his new acquired art;
yet, having taken notice of the bird's beauty, he
had a regret for its death, though he might, in
time, have rued its living; the ſtock of fish
weekly decreaſing, by his own catching one now
and then with a ſmall net he made for that uſe,
when ſhort of other provifions, and their recruit-
ing prevented by that bird's daily devouring their
young.
The inexpreffible beauty of the feathers,
which were after the nature of a drake, every
one


PHILIP QUARLL.
269
اه
one diftinguiſhed from another by a rim round
the edge thereof, about the breadth of a large
thread, and of a changeable colour, from red to
aurora and green; the ribs of a delightful blue,
and the feathers pearl colour, fpeckled with a
bright yellow; the breaſt and belly (if it might
be faid to be of any particular colour) was that
of a dove's feather rimmed like the back, di-
verfly changing; the head, which, was like that
of a ſwan for make, was purple alfo, changing
as it moved; the bill like burnished gold; eyes
like a ruby, with a rim of gold round it; the feet
the fame as the bill; the fize of the bird was
between a middling goofe and a duck, and in
fhape refembling a fwan.
Having bemoaned the death of that delightful
creature, he carefully takes out its flesh, which,
corrupting, would fpoil the outfide; then fills
the fkin with fweet herbs, which he dried for
that uſe; and having fewed up the place he had
cut open to take the flesh out, he fet it up in his
lodge.
His good fuccefs in archery made him love
the exercife; fo that what odd hours he had in
the day (befides thofe he fet apart for his divine
worſhip, and thofe neceffary occupations about
his lodge, plantations, and making remarks) he
beftowed in fhooting at the mark, which in time
made him fo expert, that he hardly would mifs
N 3
a ftand-
At


270
THE HISTORY OF
a ſtanding mark the bigneſs of a dove, at forty
or fifty yards diſtance, once in ten times; and
would shoot tolerably well flying, having once
occafion to try it upon a monſtrous eagle, which
often flew round over the place where his ante-
lopes and goats fed, near his lodge, which he
fhot at, fearing it would damage them, and killed
it with the fecond arrow.
The fummer being over, during which, hav-
ing been much taken up about his habitation
and plantations, he had neither time nor oppor-
tunity to make remarks, farther than it was fome
days very ſhowery, and for the moſt part gene-
rally very hot; but now the weather being
grown fomething cold, and the wind pretty
fharp, he muſt be obliged to put on fome cloaths
to keep it off, being as yet too tender to go any
longer without; next to provide for his antelopes
against the approaching winter; fo makes a
lodge for them, at the backfide of his kitchen,
with ſticks, which he drove into the ground,
about two feet from the wall, and then bends
them about three feet from the ground, and
fticks them in the faid wall, and ſmaller bran-
ches he interwove between them: he fhuts up
the front, and covers the top, leaving both ends
open for the antelopes to go in at; then lays
grafs (which he dried on purpoſe) in the ſaid
lodge, for them to lie on. Thus, having dug up
a con-


PHILIP QUARLL.
271
a confiderable quantity of roots, and being al-
ready stocked with falt-fiſh, both dry and in
pickle, he was pretty well provided for his cattle
and himſelf, againſt the enſuing winter, which
proved much like the preceding one, only not ſo
ftormy.
The fucceeding fpring having awaked flum-
bering nature, and revived what the preceding
hard feafon had caufed to droop, every vegetable
puts on new cloathing and recovers its wonted
beauty; each animal affumes freſh vigour; the
beafts in the wood leap and bound for joy, and
each bird on the trees fings for gladneſs. The
whole creation is, as it were, repaired, and every
creature decked with new life. Love by Na-
ture's direction, for the increaſe of every kind,
warms their harmleſs breafts; each animal feeks
a mate; our tame antelopes quit their abode,
and range the woods for the relief ordained to
quell their innocent paffion; which being affu-
aged, they return home, pregnant with young,
to their maſter's great fatisfaction; who, having
given them over, was doubly rejoiced to fee
them come again in an increafing condition.
"Heaven be praiſed!" ſaid he, “I ſhall have a
"ftock of my own, and will not fear wanting."
So, having made fitting preparations againſt
their kidding, he goes and examines the im-
provement of his new plantation, where he
N 4
found
"


272
THE HISTORY OF
found his roots grown full as large as any of
thofe that grew wild. "Make me thankful!"
faid he, "I am now provided with all neceffary
"food. I fhall no more need to rob thoſe poor
"creatures of that which Nature had provided
"for their own proper ufe." Next he goes and
views his fmall ftock of peas and beans, which he
found in a very promifing cafe. So, whilft the
weather was fair, he falls to clearing a ſpot of
ground to fet them in, as they increaſed.
Turning up the ground he found feveral forts
of roots that looked to bee a table, fome whereof
were as big as a large carrot, others lefs. He
broke a bit of every one, fome of which break-
ing fhort, and being not ftringy, he judged they
muſt be eatable; then he ſmells them, and find-
ing the fcent not difagreeable, he taſtes them.
Some were ſweetiſh, others fharp and hot, like
horfe-radiſh; and thofe he propofes to uſe inſtead
of fpice.
Sure," faid he, "theſe being of a
pleaſant ſcent and favour, cannot be offenfive
"to nature." So having manured his ground,
he takes a ſample of every root which he judged
eatable, and boils them, as the fureft way to ex-
perience their goodneſs.
66
Moft of them proved not only paffable good,
but extraordinary; fome eating like parſnips,
others almoft like carrots, but rather more agree-
able; fome like beets and turnips; every one
66
10
in


PHILIP QUARLL.
273
in their feveral kinds, as good as ever he eat in
England, but of different colours and make; fome
being bluish, others black, fome red, and fome
yellow. Thefe though not wanted, having fuf-
ficient to gratify a nicer taſte than his, were,
nevertheleſs, extremely welcome, being fome-
what like his native country fare and product.
So having returned thanks for this moft agree-
able addition to his ordinary, he fets a mark to
every herb which thofe roots bore, in order to
get fome of the feed to fow in a ground he would
prepare fo, being provided with flesh, fish,
herbs, and feveral forts of roots, he goes and ex-
amines what improvement his peas and beans
have made, which he found increaſed to admira-
tion; the feven peas having produced one thou-
fand, and the three beans one hundred: having
returned thanks for that vaft increaſe, he lays
them by, in order to fet them at a proper fea-
fon, as he had done the year before.
By this time his antelopes had kidded, one of
them having brought three young ones, and the
fecond two. This vaft addition to his provifions
very much rejoiced him, being fure now not to
want fleſh at his need, which before he was in
danger of, finding but feldom any thing in his
net: fo makes account to live upon two of the
young bucks whilft they lafted, killing one as
foon as fit for meat, and fo now and then ano-
N 5
ther,


274
THE HISTORY OF
ther, faving only five to breed; one whereof
fhould be a mate to keep the females from the
wood; left at one time or other they ſhould ſtay
away for good and all.
The old ones being well fed, as he always
took care to do, providing for them ftore of thoſe
greens he knew they loved; as alfo boiled roots
for them now and then, of which they are very
fond; the young ones throve apace, and grew
very
fat fo that in three weeks time they were
large and fit to eat. He killed one; which be-
ing roafted, proved to be more delicious than
any houſe-lamb, fucking pig, young fawn, or
any other fuckling whatever.
Having lived upon that, with now and then a
little fifh, about one month, which was as long
as he could keep it eatable, having dreſſed it at
two different times, five days interval; eating
the cold remains in ſeveral manners; referving
one of the other two males for a time he fhould
be fcanted, and in want of flesh; but was un-
luckily diſappointed by a parcel of large eagles,
which flying one morning over the place where
the young antelopes were playing, being of a
gay, as well as active difpofition, launched them-
felves with precipitation upon the male he re-
ferved for time of need, and one of the females
which he kept for breed: feeing his beloved di-
verters carrying away by thoſe birds of prey, he
runs


PHILIP QUARLL.
275
runs in for his bow, but came too late with it,
the eagles being gone.
Having loft his two dear antelopes, eſpecially
the female, having doomed the male for his
own eating, he hardly could forbear weeping to
think of their being cruelly torn to pieces by
thoſe ravenous creatures: thus having for fome
time lamented the lofs, and bewailed their hard
fate, he thinks on means to prevent the like evil
for the time to come; and as his bow was not
always at hand, he refolves upon making a net,
and faſtens it between the trees he faw them
come in at.
The fucceeding winter proving very wet and
windy, gave him but little invitation to take his
ufual walks; ſo having every thing he had oc-
cafion for at hand, he kept cloſe to his net mak-
ing; for which having twine to twiſt, and thread
to ravel out, tò make the faid twine, kept him
employed till the following fpring, which came
on apace.
Having finished his net, and every thing
which belonged to it, he goes and faftens it to
the trees, as he had propoſed; then takes a walk
to his new plantations, which he found in a
thriving condition; for which, and other bene-
fits already received, he refolves, as in duty
bound, to attend at his ufual place of worſhip,
and fing thankſgiving pfalms, which the hard-
N 6
nefs
1


276
THE HISTORY OF
nefs of the weather had kept him from all the
late winter; but it now coming into his mind,
that whilft he was at his devotion, returning
thanks for the fair profpect of a plentiful crop,
his antelopes would break into the cloſe, the
hedge being as yet but thin, and devour the pro-
mifing buds, which are the principal occafion of
bis devotion; this not altogether improper con-
fideration puts a fad check to his religious in-
tention and though there was a vaſt obligation
to prompt him to the performance of that part
of his duty, yet he could not, with wiſdom, run
the hazard, out of mere devotion, to lofe fo pro-
mifing a crop, which he ſhould never be able to
retrieve; all his ftock of feed being then in graſs.
:
As he was debating in his mind between re-
ligion and reaſon, whether the latter ought not
to be a director to the former, he perceived his
antelopes making towards the peas, to which
they, doubtless, would have got in, had he not
returned, and driven them another way: which
accident convinced him he might find a more
proper time to go about his devotion; no man
being required to worship to his prejudice: fo,
having put off his religious duty till he had better
fecured his peas and beans, he cuts a parcel of
branches, wherewith he ftops thoſe gaps to pre-
vent the creatures going in; and having com-
pleted his work, he goes to his devotion, adding
to


PHILIP QUARLL.
277
+1
-to his ufual thankſgiving a particular collect for
his luckily being in the way to prevent his being
fruftrated of the bleffing Heaven fo fairly pro-
miſed to beftow on his labours.
Having paid his devotion, he walks about the
iſland, being all the way delighted with the birds
celebrating their Maker's praiſe, in their diffe-
rent harmonious notes! "Every thing in na-
"ture," faid he, " anſwers the end of its crea-
"tion, but ungrateful man! who, ambitious to
"be wife as his Creator, only learns to make
"himfelf wretched." Thus he walks till even-
ing, making feveral reflections on the different
conditions of men, preferring his preſent ſtate to
that of Adam before his fall, who could not be
fenfible of happineſs, having never known a re-
verfe; which, otherwife, he would have been
more careful to prevent. Being come home and
near bed-time, he firſt ate his ſupper, and then,
having performed his cuftomary religious fervice,
he goes to bed. The next morning, after pay-
ing his ufual devotion, he takes a walk to his
plantations, on which he implores a continua-
tion of the profperous condition they appear to
be in; next he goes to examine his nets, in
which he finds a brace of fowls like ducks, but
twice as large, and exceeding beautiful: the
drake (which he knew by a coloured feather on
his rump) was of a fine cinnamon colour upon
his


278
THE HISTORY OF
his back, his breaſt of a mazarine blue, the belly
of a deep orange, his neck green, head purple,
his eyes, bill, and feet, red; every colour chang-
ing moſt agreeably as they moved. The duck
was alſo very beautiful, but of quite different
colours, and much paler than the drake's.
66
The diſappointment in catching thofe delight-
ful fowls, inftead of ravenous eagles, as he had
purpoſed, no ways diſpleaſed him, but he rather
was rejoiced to have fuch beautiful fowls to look
at; yet it went much againſt his mind to deprive
thofe creatures of their liberty (the greateft com-
fort in life) which nature took fuch pains to
adorn: “But," ſaid he," they were created for
"the uſe of man: fo, in keeping them for my
pleaſure, they will but anfwer the end of their
"creation. Their confinement fhall be no
"ftricter than my own; they ſhall have the
"whole iſland to range in." He then pinions
them, puts them in the pond, and makes baſkets
for them to ſhelter in, which he places in the
branches of thoſe trees that hung cloſeſt to the
water, taking particular care to feed them daily
with roots roafted and boiled, and the guts of
the fish and other creatures he uſed for his own
eating; which made them thrive mainly, and
take to the place; fo that they had a breed in
their ſeaſon.
The five antelopes had by this time kidded,
and


PHILIP QUARLL.
279
1
and brought ten young ones: his peas and beans
alfo were wonderfully improved, having that fea-
fon enough to ſtock the ground the year follow-
ing. Thus he returned kind Providence thanks
for the vaft increaſe, and concludes to live upon
the young antelopes as long as they lafted, re-
ferving only one for fuck of the old ones, to
keep them in milk, of which he had taken no-
tice they had plenty, defigning to draw it daily
for his own ufe; fo that in a little time he had
enough to fkim for cream, which he uſed for
fauce inſtead of butter, and made fmall cheeſes
of the reft. Now having a pretty ſtore of dairy
ware, he refolves to make a place to keep it in;
the kitchen wherein he was obliged to lay his
falt fiſh, (which commonly ſmells ftrong) not
being a proper place for cream and milk: for
which end he makes a dairy-houfe at the other
fide of his dwelling, with branches of trees, after
the manner of a cloſe arbour, and thatches it
over with grafs; which anfwering the kitchen
in form and fituation, made uniform wings, that
added as much to the beauty as conveniency of
the habitation.
Having completed his dairy, he proceeds in
his refolution of making cheeſe, having learned
the
way
in Holland; and for want of rennet to
turn his milk, he takes fome of the horſe-radiſh
feed, which, being of a hot nature, had the fame
effect; having curd to his mind, he ſeaſons it to
his


280
THE HISTORY OF
his palate; then with his hatchet, he cuts a
notch round in the bark of a tree, about eighteen
inches in circumference; and a fecond in the
fame manner fix inches below that; then flits
the circle, and with his knife gently opens it,
parting it from the tree: thus he makes as many
hoops as he judged would contain his pafe,
which, being girded round with cords to keep-
them from opening, he fills with the faid pafte,
and lays them by, till fit to eat.
This being done, which completed his provi-
fions, he returns thanks for thoſe bleffings which
had been fo liberally beſtowed on him: "Now,"
faid he, "Heaven be praiſed! I exceed a prince
"in happineſs: I have a habitation strong and
66
lafting, a beautiful and convenient freehold,
"ftore of comforts, with all neceffaries of life
"free coft, which I enjoy with peace and plea-
"fure uncontrouled: yet I think there is ſtill
"fomething wanting to comple my happineſs:
"if a partner in grief can leffen forrow, certain-
"ly it muſt in delight augment pleaſure. What
objects of admiration are here concealed, and
"like a mifer's treaſure, hid from the world!
"If man, who was created for blifs, could have
been completely happy alone, he would not
"have had a companion given him :" thus he
walks about thoughtful till bed-time.
66
In that difpofition he goes to bed, and foon
fell aſleep the night alfo, being windy, added
to
66


PHILIP QUARLL.
281
J
to his difpofition; but his mind finds no repoſe:
it ftill runs heavy upon the fubject that took it
up the day before, and forms ideas fuitable to
his inclination; and as folitude was the motive
of its being diſturbed, he indulges it with the
thoughts of company, dreaming that the fame
of his ftation, and happy ſtate of life, was ſpread
about the world; that it prompted a vaft num-
ber of people, from all parts, to come to it,
which at laſt induced ſeveral princes to claim a
right to it; which being decided by a bloody
war, a governor was fent, who laid taxes, de-
manded duties, raiſed rents, and warns him to
be gone, having fixed upon his habitation for
himſelf to dwell in. Being fadly difturbed, he
cries out in his fleep, "This is a great puniſh-
"ment for my uneafinefs: could I not be con-
"tented with being lord of this ifland, without
provoking Heaven to bring me under the
power of extorting governors?"
There happening a great noife, he ſtarts out
of his fleep, with the thoughts of hearing a pro-
clamation; and cries out, "Alas! it is too late
"to proclaim an evil which is already come :"
but, being thoroughly awake, and the noiſe ſtill
continuing, he found he had been dreaming,
which very much rejoiced him, he therefore put
on his cloaths, and haftens to the place he heard
the noife come from.
<<
""
Being


282
THE HISTORY OF
1
Being within forty or fifty yards thereof, he
faw a number of monkeys of two different kinds;
one fort ſquealing and fighting againſt the other
without intermixing, but ftill rallying as they
fcattered in the fcuffle. He ftood fome time
admiring the order they kept in; and the battle
ftill continuing as fierce as at firſt, he advanced
to ſee what they fought about, for he took no-
tice they ſtrove very much to keep their ground.
At his approach the battle ceaſed; and the
combatants, retiring at ſome diſtance, left the
fpot of ground, on which they fought, clear;
whereon lay a confiderable quantity of wild
pomegranates, which the wind had fhook off the
trees the night before, and which were the oc-
cafion of their ftrife.
His coming having cauſed a truce, every one
of thofe creatures keeping ftill and quiet during
his ſtay, he refolves to uſe his endeavours to
make a folid peace; and as that difference had
arifen from the fruit there prefent, to which he
could fee no reaſon but that each kind had an
equal right, he divides it into two equal parcels,
which he lays oppofite to each other towards
both the parties, retiring a little way, to fee
whether this expedient would decide the quar-
rel which anſwered his intent; thofe animals.
quietly coming to that ſhare next to them and
peaceably carrying it away, each to their quar-
ters.


PHILIP QUARLL.
283
ters. This occafioned feveral reflections on the
frivolous, and often unjuft quarrels that ariſe
among Princes, which create fuch bloody wars,
as prove the deftruction of vaft numbers of their
fubjects. If monarchs," faid he, "always act-
"ed with as much reafon as theſe creatures,
"how much blood and money would they
"fave!" Thus he goes on to his uſual place of
worſhip, in order to return thanks, that he was
free of that evil, the dream whereof had fo tor-
tured his mind, though he confeſſed he juſtly
deferved the reality, for his uneafineſs in the
happieſt of circumftances.
1
Having paid his devotion, he takes a walk to
fee how his peas and beans came on, which he
found in a very improving diſpoſition, each ſtem
bearing a vast number of well filled pods.-
"Heaven be praiſed!" faid he, "I ſhall eat of
"this year's crop, and have fufficient to ſtock
my ground the enſuing one."
66
Thus being plentifully fupplied with neceffa-
ries, and in a pleaſant iſland, every thing about
him being come to perfection; his dwelling,
which ſeems intended by Nature for fome im-
mortal gueſt, being, by time, yearly repaired and
improved, leaving no room for care; yet the un-
wife man, as if an enemy to his own eaſe, can-
not be contented with the enjoyment of more
than he could reaſonably crave, but muſt diſturb
his


284
THE HISTORY OF
his mind with what concerns him not: "What
pity," ſaid he, "fo delightful a habitation, at-
"tended with fuch conveniences, and fituated
"in fo wholefome an air, and fruitful a land,
"fhould at my death lofe all thofe wonderful
properties, being become uſeleſs for want of
fomebody to enjoy them? What admiration
"will here be loft for want of beholders? But
"what kind of man could I fettle it upon, wor-
"thy of fo fine an inheritance? Were it my
"pleaſure to chuſe myſelf an heir, fuch only ap-
66 pear virtuous, whofe weak nature confides to
"chaſtity; every conftitution cannot bear ex-
"cefs: want of courage occafions mildnefs, and
"lack of ſtrength good temper: thus virtue is
"made a cloak to infirmity. But why do I thus
willingly hamper myſelf with thoſe cares Pro-
"vidence has been pleaſed to free me of?"
Thus he holds the island from Providence:
freely he bequeaths it to whom Providence ſhall
think fit to beſtow it upon; and that his heir
may the better know the worth of the gift, he
draws a map of the whole eftate, and made an
inventory of every individual tenement, appur-
tenances, meffuages, goods, and chattels, and
alſo a draft of the terms and conditions he is to
hold the here-mentioned poffeffion upon; viz.
Imprimis, A fair and moſt pleaſant ifland,
richly stocked with fine trees, and adorned with
feveral
66
66
66


PHILIP QUARLL.
285
t
3
feveral delightful groves, planted and improved
by Nature, ftored with choice and delicious roots
and plants for food, bearing peas and beans;
likewiſe a noble fifh pond, well stocked with di-
vers forts of curious fiſh; and a ſpacious wood,
harbouring feveral forts of wild fowl, and beasts,
fit for a King's table.
Item, A dwelling commenced by art, improved
by Nature, and completed by time, which yearly
keeps it in repair, and alſo its furniture.
Item, The offices and appurtenances thereof,
with the utenfils thereunto belonging; which
faid ifland, dwelling, &c. are freehold, and clear
from taxes; in no temporal dominion, there-
fore ſcreened from any impofitions, duties, and
exactions; defended by Nature from invafions
or affaults; guarded and ſupported by Provi-
dence: all which incomparable poffeffions are to
be held upon the following terms, viz.
That whofoever fhall be by Providence ſet-
tled in this bleffed abode, fhall, morning and
evening, conftantly (unleſs prevented by ill wea-
ther or accident) attend at the eaft fide of this
ifland, and within the alcove Nature prepared
for the lodgment of ſeveral harmonious echoes,
and there pay his devotion, finging thankſgiving
pfalms to the great Origin and Director of all
things, whofe praiſes he will have the comfort
to hear repeated by melodious voices.
Next,


286
THE HISTORY OF
Next, he ſhall religiouſly obſerve and keep a
feventh day for worship only, from the rifing of
the fun until the going down thereof: therefore
he ſhall, the day before, make all neceffary pro-
vifion for that day.
That he ſhall, after any tempeftuous wind or
ftorm, vifit the fea at the outfide of the rock, at
the eaſt, ſouth, weft, and north ends, in order to
affift any one in diftrefs.
He ſhall not be wafteful of any thing what-
foever, eſpecially of any creature's life; killing
no more than what is neceffary for his health:
but fhall every day examine his nets, ſetting at
liberty the overplus of his neceffity, left they
ſhould periſh in their confinement,
He muſt alſo keep every thing in the fame or-
der and cleanneſs he ſhall find them in ; till and
manure the ground yearly; fet and fow plants
and feeds, fit for food, in their proper ſeaſons.
Having written this at the bottom of the map
he had drawn, being fupper time, he takes his
meal; then goes to his ufual evening devotion;
and, after an hour's walk, to his bed, fleeping
quietly all night, as being eaſy in his mind.
The next morning he takes his uſual walks,
and vifits his nets. In that he had fet for eagles,
he found a fowl as big as a turkey, but the co-
lour of a pheaſant, only a tail like a partridge;
this having no fign of being a bird of prey, he was
loth
!


PHILIP QUARLL.
287
مل
loth to kill it; but having had no freſh meat
for above a week, he yields to his appetite, and
dreffes it, eating part thereof for his dinner: it
was very fat and plump, and eat much like a
pheafant, but rather tenderer, and fuller of gravy.
Though he was very well pleaſed with the
bird he had taken, yet he had rather it had been
one of the eagles which kept his young ante-
lopes in jeopardy; but as he could not deſtroy
them with his net, which had hung a confider-
able time without the intended fuccefs, he pro-
jects the prevention of their increaſe, by de-
ftroying their eggs, leaving his nets wholly for
the uſe they had been ſucceſsful in; and ſearches
the clifts of the rocks next the ſea, where thoſe
birds commonly build, where having found fe-
veral nefts, he takes away the eggs that were in
them, being then their breeding time, and car-
ries them home, in order to empty the ſhells,
and hang them up and down in his habitation,
amongst the green leaves which covered the
cieling thereof; but having accidentally broke
one, and the yolk and white thereof being like
that of a turkey, he had the curiofity to boil
one and taſte it, which eat much after the inan-
ner of a fwan's. The reft he faved to eat now
"
and then for a change, reaping a double advan-
tage by robbing thoſe birds, leffening thereby
the


288
THE HISTORY OF
the damage they might do him in time, and ad-
ding a difh to his preſent fare.
In this profperous way he lived fifteen years,
finding no alteration in the weather or feaſons,
nor meeting in all the time with any tranſactions
worthy of record; ftill performing his ufual ex-
erciſes, and taking his walks with all the content
and fatisfaction his happy condition could pro-
cure, entirely forſaking all thoughts and defires
of ever quitting the bleſſed ſtation he then had
in his poffeffion.
Thus having walked the iſland over and over
(which though delightful, yet the frequent repe-
tition of the wonders it produces, renders them,
as it were, common, and lefs admirable) he
proceeds to view the fea, whoſe fluid element
being ever in motion, daily affords new objects
of admiration.
The day being fair, and the weather as calm,
he fat down upon the rock, taking pleaſure in
feeing the waves roll, and, as it were, chace one
another; the next purſuing the firft, on which
it rides, when come at; and being itſelf over-
taken by a fucceeding, is alfo mounted on thus,
wave upon wave, till a bulky body is compofed,
too heavy for the undermoft to bear, and then
finks all together: this, faid he, is a true em-
blem of ambition; men ftriving to outdo one
another are often undone.
As
T


PHILIP QUARLL.
289
اتہ
갱
​2
1
1
As he was making reflections on the empti-
nefs of vanity and pride, returning Heaven
thanks that he was feparated from the world,
which abounds in nothing elſe, a ſhip appears
at a great diſtance, a fight he had not feen fince
his fhipwreck: "Unlucky invention!" faid he,
"that thou ſhouldeft ever come into men's
"thoughts! The Ark, which gave the firſt notion
"of a floating habitation, was ordered for the
"prefervation of man; but its fatal copies daily
"expoſe him to deftruction." Having there-
fore returned Heaven thanks for his being out
of thoſe dangers, he makes a folemn vow, never
to return into them again, though it were to
gain the world; but his refolution proved as
brittle as his nature was frail. The men on
board had ſpied him out with their perſpective
glaffes; and fuppofing him to be ſhipwrecked,
and to want relief, fent their long-boat with
two men to fetch him away.
At their approach his heart alters its motion;
his blood ftops from its common courſe; his
finews are all relaxed, which entirely unframes
his reaſon, and makes him a ſtranger to his own
inclination, which, ftruggling with his wavering
refolution, occafions a debate between rope and
fear; but the boat being come pretty nigh, gave
hope the advantage, and his late refolution yields
to his revived inclination; which being now en-
O
couraged


290
THE HISTORY OF
1
couraged by a probable opportunity of being an-
fwered, ruſhes on to execution. He now, quit-
ting all his former reliance on Providence, de-
pends altogether upon his getting away, bleffing
the lucky opportunity of feeing his bleſſed coun-
try again, for which pleaſure he freely quits and
forfakes all the happineſs he enjoyed; gladly
abandoning his delightful habitation, and plen-
tiful ifland. He thinks no more of Providence ;
his mind is entirely taken up with his voyage;
but difappointment, which often attends the
greatest probabilities, fnatches fuccefs out of his
hand before he could grafp it, and intercepts his
fuppofed infallible retreat: the boat could not
approach him, by reaſon of the rocks running a
great way into the fea under water; nor could
he come at the boat for fharp points, and deep
holes, which made it unfordable as well as un-
navigable; fo that after ſeveral hours ſtriving in
vain on both fides to come at one another, the
men, after they had ſtriven all they could, but
to no purpoſe, ſaid ſomething to him in a rage,
which he underſtood not, and went without him,
more wretched now than when he was firſt caft
away. His fuil dependence on a retreat made
him abandon all further reliance on Providence,
whom then he could implore; but now, having
ungratefully deſpiſed Heaven's bounties, which
had been fo largely beſtowed on him, he has
forfeited
1


PHILIP QUARLL.
291
forfeited all hopes of affiftance from thence, and
expects none from the world. Thus deftitute,
and in the greateſt perplexity, he cries out,
"Whither ſhall I now fly for help? The world
❝ can give me none, and I dare not crave any
"more from Heaven. O curfed delufion! but
"rather curfed weakneſs! Why did I give way
"to it? Had I not enough of the world, or was
“I grown weary of being happy?" So faying,
he falls a weeping : "Could I fhed a flood of
"tears fufficient to wash away my fault, or eaſe
(6 me of the remorfe it does create!"
The pains and labour he had been at in the
day, climbing up and down the rock, dragging
himſelf to and fro, to come at the boat, having
very much bruifed his limbs; and the difap-
pointment of his full dependence on the late
promifing fuccefs, as alfo the tormenting re-
morfe, and heavy grief, for his finful reliance
thereon, much fatiguing his mind, rendered
fleep, which is ordained for the refreſhment of
nature, of fmall relief to him; his thoughts are
continually disturbed with frightful vifions; all
his paſt dangers glare at him, as if threatening
their return.
Being now awaked from his diſagreeable fleep,
he makes a firm refolution never to endeavour
to go from hence, whatever opportunity offers,
though attended with ever fo great a probability
O 2
of


292
THE HISTORY OF
?
of fuccefs, and profpect of gain; fully fettling
his whole mind and affection on the ftate and
condition Heaven has been pleafed to place
him in; refolving to let nothing enter into his
thoughts, but his moft grateful duty to ſo great a
benefactor, who has fo often and miraculouſly
refcued him from death.
Thus having entirely baniſhed the world out
of his mind, which before often diſturbed it, he
limits his thoughts within the bounds of his
bleffed poffeffion, which affords him more than
is fufficient to make his life happy: where
plenty flows on him, and pleaſure attends his
defires; abounding in all things that can gratify
his appetite, or delight his fancy: a herd of de-
lightful antelopes, bounding and playing about
his habitation, divert him at home; and in his
walks he is entertained with the harmony of
divers kinds of finging-birds; every place he
comes at offers him new objects for pleaſure:
thus all feems to concur in compleating his hap-
pinefs.
In this moft bleffed ftate he thinks himſelf as
Adam before his fall, having no room for withes,
only that every thing may continue in its prefent
condition; but it cannot be expected, that fair
weather, which fmiles on the earth's beauty,
will not change. The fun muft go its courfe,
and the ſeaſons take their turn; which confider-
ations


PHILIP QUARLL.
293
#1
1
09
ations muſt, for the preſent, admit ſome ſmall
care he is naked, and his tender conftitution
fufceptible of the cold; therefore the cloaths he
was caft away in being worn out, he is obliged
to think of providing fomething to defend his
limbs from the hardneſs of the approaching
winter, whilft it was yet warm. Having con-
fidered what to make a wrapper of, he con-
cludes upon uſing of the graſs he made mats of,
on which he lay, being foft and warm, very fit
for that purpoſe: of this he cuts down a fufficient
quantity, which, when ready to work, he makes
ſmall twine with, and plaits it in narrow braids,
which he fews together with fome of the fame,
and ſhapes a long looſe gown, that covered him
to his heels, with a cap of the fame.
By that time he had finiſhed his winter-garb,
the weather was grown cold enough for him to
put it on. The frofty ſeaſon came on apace, in
which there fell fuch a quantity of ſnow, that
he was forced to make a broom, and ſweep it
away from about his habitation twice a day; as
alſo the path he made to the places he had oc-
cafion to go to, toffing the fnow on each fide,
which before the winter was over, met at top,
and covered it all the way; which obliged him
to keep within doors for a confiderable time,
and melt fnow inftead of water; left, going for
03
fome,


294
THE HISTORY OF
fome, he might chance to be buried amongſt the
fnow.
The winter being over, and the fnow diffolv-
ed, the gay fpring advances apace, offering na-
ture its ufual affiftance, repairing the damages
the laft froft had done: which joyful tidings
made every thing fmile. Quarll, alfo, finding
himfelf revived, took his former walks, which
the preceding bad weather had kept him from,
though there had been no confiderable ftorm the
winter before.
N
He having a mind to view the ſea, and being
come to the outfide of the north-west end of the
rock, fees at the foot thereof, fomething like
part of the body of a large hollow tree, the ends
whereof were ſtopped with its own pitch; and
the middle, which was flit open from end to end,
gaping by a ſtick laid acroſs.
This put him in mind of canoes, with which
Indians paddle up and down their lakes and ri-
vers and being on that fide the rock next to
the iſland of California, he fancied fome of
them were come to viſit this iſland, though not
many in number; their canoes holding at moſt,
but two men ; for the generality, one only; yet,
as fome of theſe people are accounted great
thieves, daily robbing one another, he haftens
home to fecure what he had; but it was too
late;


PHILIP QUARLL.
295
late; they had been there already, and had ta-
ken away the cloaths he found in the cheft;
which being by far too little for him, hung care-
lefsly on a pin behind his door. Had they been
contented with that, he would not have regarded
it; but they carried away fome of his curious
ſhells, and, what grieved him moft, the fine bird
he had taken fuch pains to dreſs and ſtuff, and
care to preferve; as alfo his bow and arrows.
Having miffed thefe things, which he much
valued, he haftens to the outfide of the rock,
with his long ſtaff in his hand, in hopes to over-
take them before they could get into their
canoe; but happened to go too late, they being
already got half a league from the rock. Yet
they did not carry away their theft: for there
arifing fome wind, it made the fea fomewhat
rough, and overfet their canoe; fo that what
was in it was all loft but the two Indians, who
moſt dexterously turned it on its bottom again,
and with ſurpriſing activity leaped into it, one at
the one fide, and the other at the oppofite; fo
that the canoe being trimmed at once, they
paddled out of fight.
Having feen as much of them as he could, he
walks to the north-eaft fide, in order to diſcover
the effect of the high wind, which happened the
night before.
Being come to the outſide of the rock, he
04
per-


296
THE HISTORY OF
perceives fomething at a diſtance like a large
cheft, but having no lid on it; taking that to be
the product of fome late ſhipwreck, he grieved
at the fatal accident; "How long," reflected he,
"will covetouſneſs decoy men to purſue wealth,
"at the coft of their precious lives? Has not
"nature provided every nation and country a
"fufficiency for its inhabitants? that they will
"rove on this most dangerous and boisterous
fea, which may be titled death's dominions,
many periſhing therein, and not one on it be-
"ing fafe."
As he was bewailing their fate who he ima-
gined had been caft away, he fees two men
come down the rock, with each a bundle in his
arm, who went to that which he had taken to
be a cheft: and, having put their load in it,
puſhed it away till come to deep water; then,
having got in it, with a long ftaff, fhoved it off,
till they could row to a long hoat that lay at ſome
diſtance behind a jetting part of the rock, which
fcreened it from his fight, as alfo the fhip it be-
longed to.
66
The fight of this much amazed him, and
made him ceafe condoling others fuppofed lofs,
to run home and examine his own; well know-
ing thoſe bundles, he faw carried away, muſt
needs belong to him, there being no other move-
ables in the iſland but what were in his lodge.
1
Being


PHILIP QUARLL.
297
Being come home, he finds indeed what he
fufpected; thofe villains had moſt facrilegiouſly,
rifled and ranfacked his habitation, not leaving
him fo much as one of the mats to keep his
poor body from the ground; his winter garb alfo
is gone, and what elfe they could find for their
ufe.
}
The lofs of thofe things, which he could not
do without, filled him with forrow. "Now,"
faid he, “I am in my firſt ſtate of being; naked
"I came into the world, and naked I ſhall go
"out of it;" at which he fell a weeping.
Having grieved awhile, "Why," faid he,
"fhould I thus caft myſelf down Is not Pro-
"vidence, who gave me them, able to give me
"more?" Thus, having refolved before winter
to repleniſh his lofs, he reſts himſelf.contented,
and gives the ruffians evil action the beſt con-
ftruction he could. "Now I think on it," ſaid
he, "theſe furely are the men, who, about
"twelve months fince, would charitably have
"carried me hence, but could not for want of
"neceffary implements; and now being better
"provided, came to accomplish their hofpitable
defign; but not finding me, fuppofing I was
"either dead or gone, took away what was here
"of no ufe; much good may what they have
got do them, and may it be of as much ufe to
"them as it was to me." Thus walks out, in
O 5
order
66


298
THE HISTORY OF
order to cut grafs to dry, and make himſelf new
bedding, and a winter garb.
Having walked about half a mile, he perceives
the fame men coming towards the pond. "Hea-
"ven be praiſed!" faid he, "here they be ftill.
"Now when they fee I am not gone, nor wil-
ling to go, they will return my things, which
"they are fenfible I cannot do without," with
which words he goes up to them,
By this time they had caught the two old
ducks, which, being pinioned, could not fly away
as the reft did. He was much vexed to fee the
beft of his stock thus taken away, yet, as he
thought they were come to do him fervice, he
could grudge them nothing, that would any wife
gratify them for fo good an intent. But having
returned them thanks for their good will, he told
them he was very happy in the iſland, and had
made a vow never to go out of it.
Theſe being Frenchmen, and of an employ-
ment where politenefs is of little uſe, being
fiſhermen, and not underſtanding what he ſaid,
only laughed in his face, and went on to the pur-
poſe they came about: then having as many of
the ducks as they could get, they proceeded to-
wards the houſe where they had ſeen the ante-
lopes, fome of which not running away at their
approach, they propoſed to catch hold of them.
Being come to the place where they uſed to
feed,
1


PHILIP QUARLL.
299
feed, which was near the dwelling, the young
ones, not being uſed to ſee any men in cloaths,
nor any body but their mafter, prefently fled;
but the two old ones, which he had bred up,
were ſo tame, that they ſtood ftill, only when
the men came to them, they kept cloſe to him,
which gave the men opportunity to lay hold of
them; when, notwithſtanding Quarll's repeated
intreaties, they tied a halter about their horns,
and barbaroufly led them away.
Quarll was grieved to the heart to fee his
darlings, which he had taken fuch care to breed
up, and which were become the principal part
of his delight, following him up and down, and
which, by their jumping and playing before him,
often difperfed melancholy thoughts; notwith-
ſtanding all theſe endearing qualifications, thus
hauled away he weeps, and on his knees begs
they may be left; and though they underſtood
not his words, his actions were fo expreffive and
moving, that had they had the humanity of can-
nibals, who eat one another, they would have
yielded to fo melting an object as the poor bro-
ken hearted Quarll was; but the inflexible
boors went on, cruelly hauling and dragging the
poor creatures, which, as if fenfible of the bar-
barity of the act, looked back to their afflicted
mafter, as craving his affiſtance; which, at laſt,
fo exafperated him, that he was feveral times.
0 6
tempted
1
1


300
THE HISTORY OF
tempted to lay on the raviſhers with his long
ſtaff; as often was ftopt by the following con-
fideration: Shall I," ſaid he, "be the de-
"ftruction of my fellow creatures, to reſcue out
"of their hands, animals of which I have an
improving ftore left, and deprive them of
"their healths, and perhaps of their lives, to
<s recover what coft me nought? Let them go
"with what they have, and the merit of their
"deed be their reward." Thus he walks about
melancholy, bemoaning his poor antelopes fate,
and his own misfortune: "6 They were uſed to
“liberty,” ſaid he, "which they now are depriv-
"ed of, and for which they will pine and die,
"which, for their fake I cannot but wish; for
"life, without liberty, is a continual death.”
As he was walking, thinking (as it is uſual
after the lofs of any thing one loves) of the
pleaſure he had during the enjoyment, the ruf-
fians having fecured the poor animals, came
back with ropes in their hands. "What do
"they want next?" faid he," have they not all
they defire; would they carry away my habi
"tation alfo? Sure they have no defign on my
perfon; if ſo, they will not take it ſo eaſily as
"they did my dear antelopes." Thus he re-
folved to exerciſe his quarter ftaff, if they offer-
ed to lay hands on him. The villains, whoſe
defign was to bind him, and fo carry him away,
feeing
<s
<<
64.
t...


PHILIP QUARLL.
301
S
ſeeing him armed and refolute, did not judge it
fafe for them to advance within the reach of
his weapon, but kept at ſome diſtance, divining
how to feize him.
+ Quarll, who, by their confulting, gueffed at
their defign, not thinking proper to let them
come to a refolution, makes at the neareſt, who
immediately takes to his heels, and then to the
next, who immediately does the fame. Thus
he follows them about for a confiderable time;
but they divided, in order to tire him with run-
ning, till the night approaching, and the wind
rifing, made them fear their retreat might be
dangerous, if they deferred it; fo that they went
clear away which being all he defired, he re-
turned as foon as he faw them in the long-boat,
which they rowed to their fhip, that lay at an-
chor fome diſtance from the rocks.
Theſe wretches being gone, he returns Hea-
ven thanks for his deliverance; and as his bridge
had favoured their coming, he pulls it off, and
only laid it over when he had a mind to view
the fea, and goes home to eat a bit, having not,
as yet, broken his faft. Having, therefore, eaten
fome of his roots and cheeſe, and being wearied
with hunting theſe boors, he confults how to lie,
his bed and bedding being gone, as alfo his win-
ter gown, and the nights being as yet cold:
however, after a fmall confideration, he con-
cludes


302
THE HISTORY OF
cludes to lie in the lodge, which was left va-
cant by the ftolen antelopes abfence; whofe lit-
ter being made of the fame grafs as his mats
were, he lay both foft and warm.
Next morning having paid his uſual devotion,
he goes into the kitchen, in order to breakfaſt,
and afterwards to take his cuftomary walk.
Whilft he was eating, there arofe a noife in the
air, as proceeding from a quantity of rooks,
jackdaws, crows, and fuch like birds, whofe
common notes he was acquainted with; and as
the noiſe approached, he had the curiofity to go
and fee what was the matter, but was prevented.
by the coming of a large fowl, which flew over
his head, as he was going out; he turned back.
to gaze at the bird, whofe beauty feized him
with admiration; the pleaſure of feeing fo
charming a creature quite put out of his mind
the curiofity of looking from whence proceeded
the diſagreeable noife without; which ceafing
as foon as the bird was fheltered, made him ima-
gine thoſe carrion birds had been chafing that
beautiful fowl, which, feeing itfelf out of dan-
ger, ſtood ftill, very calm and compoſed; which
gave him the opportunity of making a difcuffion
of every individual beauty which compoſed fo
delightful an object; it was about the bigneſs
and form of a fwan, almoſt headed like it, only
the bill was not fo long nor fo broad, and red
like


PHILIP QUARLL.
303
a
"
like coral; his eyes like thofe of a hawk, his
head of a mazarine blue, and on the top of it a
tuft of fhining gold coloured feathers, which
ſpread over it, hanging near three inches be-
yond, all round; its breaſt, face, and part of its
neck, milk white, curiouſly ſpeckled with ſmall
black ſpots, a gold coloured circle about it; its
back and neck behind of a fine crimson, fpeckled
with purple; its legs and feet the fame colour
as its bill; its tail long and round, fpreading like
that of a peacock, compofed of fix rows of fea-
thers, all of different colours, which made a moft
delightful mixture.
Having ſpent ſeveral minutes in admiring the
bird, he lays peas, and crumbled roots, both
roaſted and boiled, before it: as alfo water in a
ſhell, withdrawing, to give it liberty to eat and
drink; and ſtood peeping to fee what it would
do: which, being alone, having looked about,
picks a few peas, and drinks heartily; then
walks towards the door in a compoſed eaſy
manner, much like that of a cock.
Quarll, being at the outfide, was dubious
whether he ſhould detain him, or let him go;
his affection for that admirable creature equally
prompts him to both: he cannot bear the
thoughts of parting with fo lovely an object, nor
harbour that of depriving it of liberty, which it
fo implicitly intrufted him withal. Thus, after
a ſmall


304
THE HISTORY OF
1
a fmall paufe, generofity prevails over felf-plea-
fure; "Why fhould I," faid he, "make the
place of its refuge its prifon ?". He therefore
makes room for it to go, which, with a flow
pace, walks out; and having looked about a
little time, mounts up a confiderable height;
and then takes its courfe north-weft.
66
There happening nothing the remainder of
the year worthy of record, he employs it in his.
cuſtomary occupations; as pruning and watering
his lodge and dairy, making his mats to lie on,
as alfo his winter garb; every day milking his
antelopes and goats; making now and then but-
ter and cheeſe, attending his nets, and fuch like
neceffary employments.
The mean time, the French mariners, who,
probably, got money by what they had taken
from him the year before, returned, it being
much about the fame feafon; and being refolv-
ed to take him away, and all they could make
any thing of, out of the island, were provided
with hands and implements to accompliſh their
defign; as ropes to bind what they could get
alive, and guns to fhoot what they could not
come at, faws and hatchets to cut down log-
wood and brazil, pick-axes and ſhovels to dig up
orris roots, and others of worth, which they
imagined the iſland produced; likewife flat bot-
tomed boats to tow in fhallow water, where
others


PHILIP QUARLL.
305
"
others could not come; and thus by degrees to
load their fhip with booty: but ever watchful.
Providence blafted their evil projects, and con-
founded their devices, at the very inftant they
thought themſelves fure of ſucceſs: implements:
in a flat-bottomed boat were towed to the very
foot of the rock, by a young fellow, who being
lighter than a man, was thought fitteft to go with
the tools, which pretty well loaded the boat.
Their materials being landed, to their great
fatisfaction, the men on board embarked in two
more of the fame fort of boats; but were no
fooner in them, than a ſtorm arofe, which daſh-
ed their flender bottom to pieces, and waſhed
them into the fea, in which they periſhed, over-
fetting alſo the flat bottomed boat on ſhore, with
the load, and the lad underneath it.
The ftorm being over, which lafted from about
eight in the morning till almoſt twelve at noon,
Quarll, according to his cuftom, went to ſee if
he could perceive any damage done by the late
tempeft, and if any, diftreffed by it, ftood in
want of help.
Being at that fide of the rock he uſed to viſit,
he could fee nothing but a few fiſhes and fhells
the fea had left in the clifts: "If this," faid he,
"be all the damage that has been done, make
"me thankful; it will recruit me with freſh fiſh
"and utenfils." Going to the N. W. part,:
where


306
THE HISTORY OF
where he fees a battered boat, floating with the
keel upwards," This," faid he, "bodes fome
"miſchief;" but thought it not to be of any
confequence. Having gone about fifty yards
further, he efpies a fmall barrel at the foot of
the rock, with feveral planks and fragments of a
fhip floating with the tide: " Alas!" faid he,
"theſe are too evident proofs of a ſhipwreck,
"to hope otherwife." As he was looking about,
he hears a voice cry out, much like that of a
man, at fome diftance, behind a part of the
rock: being advanced a ſmall matter beyond
where he was, "Heaven be praiſed !" faid he,
"there is fomebody, whom I am luckily come
"to fave, and he is moſt fortunately come to be
66
my companion: I cannot but rejoice at the
"event, though I heartily grieve for the acci--
"dent." Haftening to the place where he
thought the cries came from, which, as he ad-
vanced, he could difcern to be too fhrill for a
man's voice; "Certainly," ſaid he, “this muſt
"be fome woman by the noiſe."
He then, with his ſtaff, endeavoured to break
that which he took to be the lid of the cheft,
but proved the bottom; and as he was ſtriking,
the boy underneath, calling to him to turn it up,
thruft his hand under the fide, which he per-
ceiving, though he underſtood him not, ſtood
ftill. Finding his miſtake, " This," faid he,
"is


PHILIP QUARLL.
307
" is a flat-bottomed boat, fuch as the French-
"men ufed the year before, when they came
"and plundered me. Now, am I fafe if I turn
"it up? Doubtlefs they are come in great num-
"bers." Paufing awhile, and the lad (whom
he took to be a woman) ftill continuing his
moan, he was moved to compaffion; and, hav-
ing confidered the boat could not hold any great
number, he ventures: "Let what will come on
"it, or who will be under, for the poor woman's
"fake I will relieve them; there cannot be
66 many men. However I will let but one out
"at a time; if he be mischievous, I am able to
"deal with him." At this, he puts the end of
his ſtaff where he had feen the hand, and lifts
it
up about a foot from the ground. Out of the
opening immediately creeps the boy, who, on
his knees falls a begging and weeping, expecting
death every moment, as being the merited pu-
niſhment for the evil purpoſe he came about.
Being affected with his fupplications, though
the fight of the preparations made for his intend-
ed ruin had moved him to anger againft that
mercenary nation, he helps the young fellow up
by the hand, and the night coming on apace,
he takes one of the hatchets that lay by, and
gave another to the boy, then falls a knocking
the boat to pieces, and directed him to do the
fame, which he accordingly did.
The


308
THE HISTORY OF
The boat being demolifhed, they carried the
boards up higher on the rock, as alfo the reft of
the things; left, in the night, fome florm fhould
rife, which might wash them back into the fea;
it being then too late to bring them away. Hav
ing done, they each of them took up what they
could carry, and fo went home. The young
Frenchman, finding a kinder treatment than ei-
ther he deſerved or expected, was extraordinary
fubmiffive and tractable; which made Quarl
the more kind and mild; and inſtead of con-
demning his evil attempt, he commiferated his
misfortune, and in room of refentment fhewed
him kindneſs. Thus having given him of what
he had to eat, he puts him to bed in his lodge,
wherein he lay, till he had got his mats made
up; then went to bed himſelf.
"
#
The next morning he rofe and walked about
till he thought it time for the boy to rife; he
then calls him up, and takes him to the place
that he uſually went to every morning and even-›
ing to fing pfalms; where the youth being come,
and hearing fo many different voices, and feeing
nobody, was ſcared out of his wits, and took to
his heels, making towards the rock as faft as he.
could; but as he was not acquainted with the
eaſieſt and moſt practicable parts thereof, Quarl
had made an end of his pfalm, and overtook
him before he could get to the fea fide, into
which


PHILIP QUARLL.
309
which he certainly would have caſt himſelf at
the fright; but Quarll, who, by the boy's ftar-
ing, gueffed his diſorder, not having the benefit
of the language, endeavoured to calm him by
his pleafing countenance, and prevented his
drowning himſelf; but could not keep off a vio
lent fit the fright had occafioned, which held
him feveral minutes.
'The fit being over, he and the boy took away
at divers times the remains of the boat, and
what was in it, which they could not carry home
the day before then taking up two guns,
"Now," faid he, "thefe unlucky inftruments,
"which were intended for deftruction, ſhall be
"employed for the prefervation of that they
"were to deſtroy" and taking them to his lodge,
fets them at each fide of the door; then being
dinner time, he ſtrikes a light, and fets the boy
to make a fire, whilft he made fome of the fiſh
fit to fry, which he picked up upon the rock the
evening before; then takes dripping he faved,
when he roafted any flesh, to fry them with.
The boy, who had lived fome time in Holland,
where they uſed much butter, ſeeing dripping
employed in room thereof, thought to pleaſe
his maſter in making fome; and as he had ſeen
milk and cream in the dairy arbour, wanting a
churn only, there being a fmall rundlet lying
empty,
I


310
THE HISTORY OF
empty, he takes out one of the ends of it, in
which, the next day, he beat butter.
Quarll, feeing this youth induſtrious, begins
to fancy him, notwithſtanding the averfion he
had conceived for his nation, ever fince the ill
treatment he had received from his countrymen;
and, as fpeech is one of the moſt neceffary fa-
culties to breed and maintain fellowſhip, he
took pains to teach him Engliſh.
66
The lad being acute and ingenious, was ſoon
made to underſtand it, and in fix months capable
to ſpeak it fufficiently, fo as to give his maſter a
relation of his late coming, and to what intent.
"The men," ſaid he, "who about one year
"fince carried away from hence fome antelopes,
with extraordinary ducks, and feveral rarities,
"which they ſaid belonged to a monftrous Eng-
66 lifh Hermit, whofe hair and beard covered his
"whole body, having got a great deal of money
66
by fhewing them, encouraged others to come;
"whereupon feveral, joining together, hired a
"a fhip to fetch away the Hermit, and what
"elfe they could find; therefore brought with
"them tools, and guns to ſhoot what they could
"not take alive.". "Barbarous wretches!" re-
plied he, "to kill my dear antelopes and ducks!
Pray, what did they intend to do with me?”.
Why," faid the boy, "to make a fhow of
66
you."
66
---


PHILIP QUARLL.
311
I
3
da
2:
66
you."-"To make a fhow of me! Sordid
"wretches!, is a Chriftian then ſuch a rarity
"amongst them? Well, and what were the faws
"and hatchets for?"-"To cut down your
"houfe, which they intended to make a drink-
"ing booth of."-" Oh, monftrous! what time
and nature has been fifteen years a complet-
ing, they would have ruined in a moment:
"well, thanks to Providence, their evil defign
"is averted. Pray, what is become of thoſe
facrilegious perfons?"" They are all drown-
"ed," faid the boy.-"Then," replies he, "the
"Heavens are fatisfied, and I avenged: but how
"cameft, thou to efcape? for thou waft with
"them."-"No," replied the youth, "I was
upon the rock when their boat was daſhed
againft it, and was overfet with the fame fea,
"under the flat-bottomed boat, where you
"found me.". "That was a happy overfet for
"thee. Well, is there no gratitude due to Pro-
"vidence for thy eſcape?"" Due to Provi-
"dence!" faid he, "why, I thought you had
"faved me: I am fure you let me out."-
"Yes," replied Quarll, "but I was fent by
"Providence for that purpofe."-"That was
kindly done too," ſaid the boy; "well, when
"I fee him, I will thank him: doth he live
“hereabout?"—" Poor ignorant creature !" re-
plied Quarll; "why Providence is every where.
"What!
«
66
66
66
66


812
THE HISTORY OF
·
"What! didſt thou never hear of Providence?
"What religion art thou of?"-Religion !" art-
fwered the youth: "I don't know what you
"mean: I am a fiſherman by trade, which my
"father lived by,"—"Well," ſaid Quarll,
"did
"he teach thee nothing elfe? no prayers?"-
"Prayers!" replied the lad; "why, fiſhermen
"have no time to pray; that is for them who
"have nothing elſe to do: poor folks muſt work
" and get money; that is the way of our town."
"Covetous wretches! Well," faid he, "I
grudge them not what they poffefs, fince it is
"all the happineſs they aſpire at; but thou fhalt
"learn to pray, which will be of far more ad-
"vantage to thee than work, both here and
"hereafter:" from which time he begins to
teach him the Lord's Prayer and the Ten Com-
mandments, as alfo the principles of the Chrif-
tian religion; all which inftructions the youth
taking readily, won his affection the more: he
likewife taught him to fing pfalms, which far-
ther qualified him to be his companion in ſpiritual
exerciſes as well as in temporal occupations.
Now, having company, he is obliged to en-
large his bed, the lodge being wanted for his
antelopes againſt breeding time: he adds, there-
fore, to his mats. His other proviſions alſo
wanting to be augmented, and he having both
tools and boards, out of the flat boat which he
had
66


PHILIP QUARLL.
318
tu
had taken to pieces, he and the lad went about
making large boxes to falt fleth and fifh in;
then, with the boards that were left, they made
a table for his dwelling that he had before, and
one for his kitchen, as alſo ſhelves in the room
of thoſe that were made of wicker: then, hav-
ing recruited his fhell utenfils that were ftolen
the year before, he was completely furniſhed
with all manner of conveniences; and Provi-
dence fupplying him daily with other neceffa-
ries, there was no room left him for wiſhes, but
for thankſgiving, which they daily moſt religi-、
ouſly paid.
In this moſt happy ſtate they lived in peace
and concord the ſpace of ten years, unanimouſly
doing what was to be done, as it lay in each of
their ways, without relying on one another.
Quarll, who before, though alone, and de-
prived of fociety (the principal comfort of life)
thought himſelf bleſſed, now cannot expreſs his
happineſs, there being none in the world to be
compared to it, heartily praying he might find
no alteration until death: but the young man,
not having met with fo many diſappointments
in the world as he, had not quite withdrawn his
affections from it; his mind fometimes will run
upon his native country, where he has left his
relations, and where he cannot help wiſhing to
be himſelf: thus, an opportunity offering itſelf
P
one


314
THE HISTORY OF
one day, as he went to get oyfters, to make
fauce for fome fresh cod-fifh which Quarll was
dreffing, he faw, at a diſtance, a ſhip; at which
his heart fell a panting; his pulſes double their
motion; his blood grows warmer and warmer,
till at last, inflamed with defire of getting at it,
he lays down the bag he brought to put the oyf-
ters in, as alfo the inftrument to dredge them up
with, and takes to fwimming. The men on
board having efpied him out, fent their boat to
take him up; fo he went away without taking
leave of him he had received fo much good
from; who, having waited a confiderable time,
fearing fome accident would befal him, leaves
his cooking, and goes to fee for him; and, be-
ing come at the place where he was to get the
oyfters, he fees the bag and inflrument lie, and
nobody with them. Having called feveral times
without being anfwered, various racking fears
tortured his mind: fometimes he doubts he is
fallen in fome hole of the rock, there being
many near that place where the oysters were:
he, therefore, with his ftaff, which he always
carried with him when he went abroad, at the
other fide of the rock, grabbled in every one
round the place; and, feeling nothing, he con-
cludes fome fea-monſter had ftolen him away,
and, weeping, condemns himſelf as the caufe of
this fatal accident; refolving for the future to
punish


PHILIP QUARLL.
315
A
ㄅ​ㄨ​ˋ
punish himſelf by denying his appetite; and
only eat to ſupport nature, and not to pleaſe his
palate.
66
Having given over hopes of getting him again,
he returns home in the greateſt affliction, re-
folving to faft till that time the next day but,
happening to look weftward, in which point the
wind ftood, he perceives fomething like a boat
at a great diſtance; wiping the tears off his eyes,
and looking ſtedfaſtly, he diſcovers a fail be-
yond it, which quite altered the motive of his
former fear: "No monſter," ſaid he, "hath
"devoured him; it is too plain a cafe, that he
"has villainously left me: but what could I
expect of one who had projected fuch evil
againſt me?" So faying, he went home, and
made an end of dreffing his dinner; refting him-
felf contented, being but as he was before, and
rather better, fince he had more conveniences
and tools to till his ground and dig up his roots
with. Having recommended himſelf to Provi-
dence, he reſumes his ufual works and recrea-
tions, refolving that no cares fhall mar his hap-
pineſs for the future, being out of the way of all
thoſe irreſiſtible temptations with which the
world abounds, to lay the beſt men's hopes in
the duft.
66
Being again alone, the whole bufinefs of the
houſe lies upon his hands; he muſt now prune
P 2
and


316
THE HISTORY OF
and trim the habitation that daily harbours him,
being made of fine growing plants, which yearly
fhoot out young branches: this makes them
grow out of ſhape. He muſt alſo till the ground,
fet and gather his peas and beans in their fea-
fon; milk and feed his antelopes daily; make
butter and cheeſe at proper times; dig up his
roots; fetch in fuel and water when wanted;
attend his nets; go to deſtroy eagles neſts; and
every day dreſs his own victuals: all which
neceffary occupations, beſides the time dedicated
for morning and evening devotions, kept him
wholly employed, which made his renewed foli-
tude leſs irkſome. And, having walked all that
afternoon to divert his thoughts, admiring all the
way the wonderful works of Nature, both in the
furprizing rocks which fürrounded the ifland,
and in the delightful creatures and admirable
plants that are in it; being weary with walking,
he returns home, thanking kind Providence for
fettling him in fo bleffed a place; and in his
way calls at his invifible choir, where, having
fung a thankſgiving pfalm, and his uſual evening
hymn, he goes to fupper, and then to bed, with
a thoroughly contented mind, which occafions
pleaſant dreams to entertain his thoughts.
A.
There happening a great noife of ſquealing,
it waked him out of his dream; and his mind
being impreffed with notions of war, it at firft
1900
feized


PHILIP QUARLL.
317
1
1
feized him with terror; but being fomewhat fet-
tled, and the noiſe ftill continuing, he perceived
it proceeded from the two different kinds of
monkeys in the ifland, which were fighting for
the wild pomegranates that the high wind had
fhaken off the trees the preceding night, which
was very boisterous.
Having gueffed the occafion of their debate,
he rifes, in order to go and quell their difference,
by dividing amongst them the cauſe thereof.
Getting up, he opens the door, at the outfide of
which, an old monkey of each fort were quietly
waiting his levee, to entice him to come, as he
once before did, and put an end to their bloody
war.
He was not a little furprized to fee two fuch
inveterate enemies, who at other times never meet
without fighting, at that juncture agree fo well.
That moſt furprizing fign of reaſon in thoſe
brutes, which, knowing his decifion would com-
poſe their comrades difference, came to implore
it, put him upon theſe reflections: Would
"Princes," faid he, "be but reafonable as thofe
"which by nature are irrational, how much
"blood and money would be faved!" Having
admired the uneafinefs of thofe poor creatures,
who ftill went a few fteps forward, and then
backward to him; he was in hopes to decoy
one or both into his lodge, by throwing meat to
P 3
them :


318
THE HISTORY OF
them but thofe exemplary animals, hearing
their fellows in trouble, had no regard to their
ſeparate intereft, taking no notice of what he
gave them; but kept walking to and again with
all the tokens of uneafinefs they could exprefs;
which fo moved him, that he haftened to the
place, where his prefence cauſed immediately a
ceffation of arms, and both parties retired a con-
fiderable diftance from each other, waiting his
fharing the windfalls, which being done, they
quietly took that heap which lay next each
kind, and went to their different quarters.
Fourteen years more being paffed, every thing
keeping its natural courfe, there happened no-
thing extraordinary, each fucceeding year re-
newing the pleaſures the preceding had pro-
duced. Thunders and high winds being fre-
quent, though not equally violent, he thought it
not material to record them, or their effects, as
blowing and throwing fiſhes, fhells, empty vef-
fels, battered chefts, &c. upon the rock; only
tranfactions and events wonderful and uncom-
mon; and there happened a moft furprizing
one a few days after, which though of no great
moment, is as worthy of record as any of far
greater concern, being a wonderful effect of
Providence, manifefted in a miraculous manner,
though not to be faid fupernatural...
One


PHILIP QUARLE.
319
One morning, when he had roaſted a parcel
of thoſe roots which he uſed to eat inftead of
bread, and this he commonly did once a week,
they eating beft when ftale; having fpread them
on his table and cheft to cool, he went out to
walk, leaving his door open to let the air in.
His walk, though graced with all the agree-
ables Nature could adorn it with to make it de-
lightful; a grafs carpet, embroidered with beau-
tiful flowers, of many different colours and ſmells,
under his feet, to tread on; before, and on each
fide of him, fine lofty trees, of various forms and
heights, cloathed with pleaſant green leaves,
trimmed with rich bloffoms of many colours, to
divert his eye; a number of various forts of me-
lodious Inging birds perching in their moſt lovely
fhades, as though Nature had ftudied to excel
man's brighteſt imagination, and exquifiteneſs of
art; yet all theſe profufeneffes of Nature's won-
ders are not fufficient to keep away or expel
anxious thoughts from his mind. It runs upon
his two dear antelopes, the darling heads of his
prefent ftock, which he took fuch care to bring
up, and were fo engaging, always attending him
in thoſe fine walks; adding, by their fwift races,
active leapings, and other uncommon diverfions,
to the natural pleaſantnefs of the place; which
now, by their moſt lamented abſence, is become
P 4
a dull


320
THE HISTORY OF
a dull memorandum of the barbarous manner in
which they were raviſhed away from him.
In theſe melancholy thoughts, which his
loneſomeneſs every now and then created, he
returns home, where Providence had left a re-
medy for his grievance; a companion, far ex-
ceeding any he ever had, waits his return, which
was a beautiful monkey of the fineſt kind, and
the most complete of the fort, as though made
to manifeft the unparalleled ſkill of Nature, and
fent him by Providence to diffipate his melan-
choly.
Being come to his lodge, and beholding that
wonderful creature, and in his own poffeffion,
at the fartheft end of it, and him at the entrance
thereof to oppoſe its flight, if offered, he is at
once filled with joy and admiration: "Long,"
faid he, "I endeavoured in vain to get one, and
"would have been glad of any, though of the
"worft kind, and even of the meaneft of the
"fort; and here kind Providence has fent me
one of an unparalleled beauty.”
Having a confiderable time admired the beaft,
which all the while ftood unconcerned, now and
then eating of the roots that lay before him, he
fhuts the door, and goes in, with a refolution of
ftaying within all day, in order to tame him,
which he hoped would be no difficult matter,
66
his


PHILIP QUARLL.
321
his diſpoſition being already pretty familiar, little
thinking that Providence, who ſent him thither,
had already qualified him for the commiffion he
bore; which having found out by the creature's
furpriſing docility, he returns his Benefactor his
moft hearty thanks for that miraculous gift.
This moſt wonderful animal having by its fur-
priſing tractability and good nature, joined to its
matchleſs handſomeneſs, gained its maſter's love,
beyond what is ufual to place on any fort of
beafts; he thought himſelf doubly recompenfed
for all his former loffes, eſpecially for that of his
late ungrateful companion, who, notwithſtanding
all the obligations he held from him, baſely left
him at a time he might be most helpful: and as
he fancied his dear Beaufidelle (for fo he called
that admirable creature) had ſome ſort of reſemb-
lance to the picture he framed of him, he takes
it down, thinking it unjuſt to bear in his fight
that vile object, which could not in any wife
claim a likeneſs to fo worthy a creature as his
beloved monkey.
One day, as this lovely animal was officiating
the charge it had of its own accord taken, being
gone for wood, as wont to do when wanted, he
finds in his way a wild pomegranate, whofe ex-
traordinary fize and weight had cauſed it to fall
off the tree: he takes it home, and then returns
for


322
THE HISTORY OF
for his faggot; in which time Quarll, withing
the goodness of the infide might anſwer its out-
ward beauty, cuts it open; and, finding it of a
dull lufcioufnefs, too flat for eating, imagined it.
might be uſed with things of an acid and ſharp
tafte; having therefore boiled fome water, he
、puts it into a veffel, with a fort of an herb which
is of taſte and nature of creffes, and fome of the
pomegranate, letting them infuſe fome time,
now and then ſtirring it; which the monkey hav-
ing taken notice of, did the fame: but one very
hot day, happening to lay the veffel in the fun,
made it turn four.
Quarll, who very much wanted vinegar in his
fauces, was well pleaſed with the accident, and
fo continued the fouring of the liquor, which
proving excellent, he made a five gallon veſſel of
it, having feveral which at times he found upon
the rock.
Having now ftore of vinegar, and being a great
lover of pickles, which he had learnt to make by
ſeeing his wife, who was an extraordinary cook,
and made of all forts every year; calling to mind
he had often in his walks feen fomething like
mushrooms, he makes it his bufinefs to look for
fome: thus he picked up a few, of which Beau-
fidelle (who followed him up and down) having
taken notice, immediately ranges about, and be-
P
ing


PHILIP QUARLL.
323
ing nimbler footed than his mafter, and not
obliged to ſtoop fo low, picked double the quan-
tity in the ſame ſpace of time; fo that he foon
had enough to ferve him till the next ſeaſon..
His good fuccefs in making that ſort of pickle
encourages him to try another; and, having taken
notice of a plant in the wood that bears a ſmall
green flower, which, before it is blown, looks
like a caper, he gathers a few; and, their taſte
and flavour being no way difagreeable, judging
that, when pickled, they would be pleaſant, he
tries them, which, according to his mind, were
full as good as the real ones; and gathers a fuf-
ficient quantity, with the help of his attendant,
ſtocking himſelf with two as pleaſant pickles as
different forts. But there is another which he
admires above all: none, to his mind like the
cucumber; and the ifland producing none, left
him no room to hope for any; yet (as likeneſs
is a vaſt help to imagination) if he could but find
any thing, which ever fo little reſembles them in
make, nature, or tafte, it will pleaſe his fancy :
he therefore examines every kind of buds, blof-
foms, and feeds; having at laſt found that of a
wild parfnip, which being long and narrow, al-
moft the bignefs and make of a pickling cucum-
ber, green and crifp withal, full of a ſmall flat
feed, not unlike that of the thing he would have
it


324
THE HISTORY OF
it to be, he pickles fome of them; which being
of a colour, and near upon the make, he fancies
them quite of the taſte.
His beans being at that time large enough for
the first crop, he gathers fome for his dinner :
the thells being tender and, of a delicate green,
it came into his mind, they might be made to
imitate French beans: "they are," faid he,
near the nature, I can make them quite of the
"fhape, fo be they have the fame favour." Ac-
cordingly he cuts them in long narrow flips, and
pickles fome; the other part he boils; and there
being none to contradict their tafte, they paſſed
current for as good French beans as any that
ever grew.
66
The diſappointment of having ſomething more
comfortable than water to drink being retrieved
by producing, in the room thereof, wherewithal
to make his eatables more delicious, he proceeds
in his firſt project; and, taking neceffary care to
prevent that accident which intercepted ſucceſs
in his firſt undertaking, he accompliſhes his de-
fign, and makes a liquor no wife inferior to the
beſt cyder: fo that now he has both to revive
and keep up his ſpirits, as well as to pleaſe his
palate, and fuit his appetite.
Having now nothing to crave or wish for, but
rather all motives for content; he lies down with
a peace-
*


PHILIP QUARLL.
325
$
a peaceable mind, no care or fear diſturbing his
thoughts: his fleep is not interrupted with fright-
ful fancies, but rather diverted with pleaſant and
diverting dreams; he is not ftartled at thunder or
ftorms, though ever ſo terrible, his truſt being on
Providence, who at fundry times, and in various
manners, has reſcued him from death, though
apparently unavoidable; being for above thirty
years miraculouſly protected and maintained in
a place ſo remote from all human help and af-
fiftance.
3013
FINIS.
1..
A.
'I
Ave 1
1


"
LORD MACARTNEY'S
EMBASSY TO CHINA.
BY AUTHORITY.
In a few days will be publiſhed, in one large Volume Oc-
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fome of the most eminent Artiſts, price only Ten Shillings
and Sixpence in boards,
AN HISTORICAL ACCOUNT
OF THE
Embaffy to the Emperor of China;
Undertaken by Order of the
KING OF GREAT BRITAIN.
Including the Manners and Cuſtoms of the Inhabitants;
and preceded by an Account of the Cauſes of
THE EMBASSY AND VOYAGE TO CHINA.
Abridged principally from the Papers of EARL MACARTNEY,
AS COMPILED
BY SIR GEORGE STAUNTON, BART.
Secretary of Einbaſſy to the Emperor of China, and Miniſter
Plenipotentiary in the abſence of the Embaffador.
LONDON:
Printed for JOHN STOCKDALE, Piccadilly; and JAMES
SCATCHERD, Ave Maria Lane."
The above Work is publiſhing, in ten Weekly Numbers,
át One Shilling each; five of which are publiſhed with fifteen
Plates.
BOOKS


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The Hiftory of Sandford and Merton. By Thomas Day,
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bound.
Sandford


300
Øvor
ت
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T
Books publifhed by JOHN STOCKDALĖ.
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This Dictionary for beauty of paper, elegance of
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AIKIN's Hiftory of Mancheſter and its Environs, 4to.
650 pages and 73 plates
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Bonnet's Philofophical Inquiries, &vo.
Shakespeare, with Index, 2 vols. 8vo.
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Biographical Sketches of 39 eminent Perfons, with a Deſcription
-
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S M M
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Life of Ruddiman, 8vo.
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Davis's Hiftorical Tracts relating to Ireland, with his Life, 8vo.
by George Chalmers, F. R. S. S. A.
Day's Dying Negro, new edition, with a frontispiece by Metz
and Neagle
"
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I
2
I
·
Fillon's history of Kentucky, with a large map, 19 inches by 17
Fleurieu's Voyages and Difcoveries of the French and Spaniards,
with 11 plates, 4to
Gordon's (Sir Adam) Contraſt, 2 vols, 12mo
smo» ++3HO7
1900000006
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6636
0000
O
o 16
O
O
16121
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0 15
De Foe's Hiftory of the Union, 4to
Edwards's Hiftory of St. Domingo, 4to
2 12
Hiftory of the Weſt-Indies, 2 vols. 4to, with 16 maps
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The 15 maps and hiftorical plates, feparate, 4to, to complete the
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Affiliant for the Vifitation of the Sick, 12mo, bound. a
5
HOOOo do
5 6
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3
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76
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409606669
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