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EHOLD a man in his firſt claſs of years, When youthleſs ſports made way for growing Cares, The chequer'd fortunes of a manly age, Buſies reflecting ſenſe with thoughts more ſage: Various affairs will cauſe a world of woes: Then, in the fall of life, how ſweet’s repoſe ! The calm he now enjoys, makes full amends For all he felt—Heav'n never ill intends; Suff’rings are ſent to us from God above, To make us pračtiſe faith, and ſacred love, Aw'd into patience, by freſh ſcenes of fate, We live too ſoon, and learn to live too late. In buſy worlds, and trading peopled towns, More faſt we fin, than fin itſelf abounds, In ſoft repoſe Quarll empires does diſdain: Free from diſquiet, ſolitude’s his gain. ... Thoughts more ſublime, a haven more ſerene, may cauſe the ſplee Nought e'er to vex him that may Methinks I with him ſhare of And wiſh no better paradiſe t Here’s not Ambition with her gau . . . . 4...#3:38 ºnly train, Nor Envy trampling down the poor an 6 on solitude. Nor Avarice nor haughty Pride invade, Nor can Remorſe his ſlumb'ring nights upbraid : In peace he reſts, unenvy’d or unknown, And pities monarchs on their toilſome throne. *Tis with content Quarll lives; he’s truly bleſs'd, Has nought to dread, nor is with ought diſtreſs'd ; Prays for his country, and its preſent prince, That he may reign in heav'n, when call'd from hence. There, in thoſe lonely ſhades, he juſt uproſe, A type of reſurre&tion to diſcloſe; ' A reſurre&tion from a wat'ry hell, Where ſhoals of terror ſtrove which ſhould excel; A reſurre&tion, emblem of the laſt, - Which will recal our ev'ry guilt that’s paſt; Drawing a glare of conſcience to our view, Of horror for our fins, both old and new ; But ſo unſpotted in his preſent ſtate, I’d wiſh myſelf as happy; not more great : - I'd know no change ; but, when God calls, obey, Prepar’d in my account for judgment-day: Then happy riſe from cares, and worldly toys, To more ſubſtantial and eternal joys. This honeſt Hermit, at a tranſient view, Seems to be born all precedent tº out-do. * Something uncommon makes him wondrous ſeem : Sound are his morals, drawn from ev’ry theme. Thus from our Engliſh Her M1T learn to know, ..That early piety oppoſes woe. * sº THE ENGLISH HERMIT. * Book I. * An account how Mr. Quarll was found out; with . a deſcription of his dreſs, habitation, and utenfils; as alſo his converſation with the perſons who firſt diſcovered him. HAVING concluded all thoſe mercantile affairs, which I undertook, by this voyage, to negociate; and being upon my return for England, and wind- bound ; during my ſtay I daily walked about the ſea-ſhore. Very early one morning, the weather being extremely fair, and the ſea wonderfully calm, as I was taking my uſual turn, I aceidentally fell into diſcourſe with a Spaniſh Mexican inhabitant, named Alvarado; and as we were viewing the rocks which abound in thoſe ſeas, he deſired me to take notice of a vaſt long one about ſeven leagues from ſhore, which he ſaid, was ſuppoſed to incloſe ſome land, by its great ex- tent; but the acceſs to it was very dangerous, by -- ſon of the rocks, which reached ſo far under wa being in ſome places too ſhallow for boats, an 8 PHILIP QUARLL. others too deep to ford over; and the ſea common- ly very rough in that place, hitherto prevented far- ther reſearches, ſuppoſing the advantage which might accrue from the land, would not countervail the coſt and trouble of making it inhabitable; for that he and ſome friends had, on a fine day, as it now was, the curioſity to go as near as they could with ſafety, which was about fifty yards from the main rock, but were forced to return as unſatisfied as they went ; on- ly, that he had the pleaſure of catching ſome delicious fiſh, which lay playing upon the ſurface of the water, having a rod in his hand, and lines in his pocket, be- ing ſeldom without when he walks on the ſea-ſhore; theſe fiſh are ſomewhat larger than an herring in its prime, ſkinned like a mackerel, made as a gudgeon, and of divers beautiful colours; eſpecially if caught in a fair day; having ſince obſerved, that they are more or leſs beautiful, according to the ſerenity of the weather. - The account he gave me of them excited my curi- oſity to go and catch ſome; and he being, as uſual, provided with tackle, we picked up a parcel of yellow maggots, which breed in dead tortoiſes upon the rock, at which thoſe fiſhes bite very eagerly. . Thus equipped with all neceſſaries for the ſport, we agreed with a yº, one of the long-boat's crew, belonging to the ſhip I came over in ; whoſe . maſter being juſt come on ſhore, and not expected to return ſpeedily, he readily conſented to row us thi. ther for about the value of a ſhilling. Being come to the place, we found extraordinary ſport; the fiſhes were ſo eager, that our fines were no ſooner in but we had a bite. - *Whilſt we were fiſhing, the young man that rowed us thither, eſpying a cleft in the rock, through which he ſaw a light, had a mind to ſee what was at the other fide; ſo put off his clothes in order to wade to it: thus, having taken the hitches of the boat, he gropes .# for ſure footing, the rock being very full of OlćS, Being come to the cleft, he creeps through, and in a ſhort time returns, calling to us with precipitation, which expreſſed both joy and ſurpriſe : gentlemen! gentlemen I ſaid he, I have made a diſcovery of a new land, and the fineſt that the ſun ever ſhone on : leave off your fiſhing; you will find here much better buſineſs. Having by that time caught a pretty hand- fome diſh of fiſh, we put up our tackling, faſtened our boat to the rock, and ſo we went to ſee this new- foundland. º Being come at the other fide of the rock, we ſaw as he ſaid, a moſt delightful country, but deſpaired going to it, there being a lake about a . at the bot- tom of the rock, which parted it from the land; for neither Alvarado nor myſelf could ſwim : but the young fellow, who could, having leaped into the wa- ter, finding it all the way but breaſt- § we went in alſo, and waded to the other ſide, which aſcended gently, about five or fix feet from the lake, to a moſt pleaſant land, flat and level, covered with a curious graſs, and ſomething like chamomile, but of no ſmell, and of an agreeable taſte : it bore alſo abundance of fine lofty trees, of different kinds and make, which in ſeveral places ſtood in cluſters, compoſing groves of different heights and largeneſs. Being come to a place where the trees ſtood in ſuch a diſpoſition as gave our fight a greater ſcope, we ſaw, at ſome diſtance, sº moſt delightful wood of confiderable extent. The agreeableneſs of the perſpective made by nature, both for the creating pleaſure, and condale *a* : ce of grief, to PHILIP QUARLL. prompted my curioſity to a view of the delights which the diſtance we were at might, in ſome meaſure, rob . us of: but Alvarado, who, till then, had diſcerned no- thing whereby we could judge the iſland to be inhabit- ed, was fearful, and would not venturefarther that way, leaſt we ſhould of a ſudden be ſallied upon by wild beaſts out of the wood; and, as I could not diſcom- mend his precaution, the thickneſs of it giving room to believe there might be dangerous creatures in it; fo he went ſouthward, finding numbers of fine trees, and here and there ſmall groves, which we judged to be compoſed of forty or fifty ſeveral trees : but, upon examination, we found it, to our great amaze- ment, to proceed from only one plant; whoſe outmoſt lower branches, bending to the ground, about ſeven or eight feet from the middle ſtem, ſtruck root, and became plants; which did the ſame ; and in that manner covered a confiderable ſpot of ground; ſtill gº's leſs, as they ſtood fartheſt from the old ody. ? Having walked ſome time under that moſt ſurpriſ. ing and wonderful plant, admiring the greatneſs of nature’s works, we went on, finding ſeveral of the ſame in our way, wherein haboured monkeys ; but their ſwift flight prevented our diſcerning their co- lours : yet, going on, we found there were two kinds; one having green backs, with yellow faces and bellies; the other grey, with white bellies and faces; but both forts exceedingly beautiful. . . At ſome diſtance we perceived three things ſtand- ing together, which I took to be houſes: I believe faid I, this iſland is inhabited, for, if I miſtake not, yonder are dwelling-places. So they are, ſaid Alva- rado; and therefore I don’t think it wiſdom to ven- ture any farther, left they ſhould be ſavages and do PHILIP QUARLL. II us hurt; ſo would have gone back : but I was re- ſolved to ſee what they were, and perſuaded him to go on; ſaying, it would be time enough for us to retreat when we perceived danger. That may be too late, ſaid he for as evil does not always ſucceed dan- ger, danger does not always precede evil; we may be ſurpriſed. Well, well, ſaid I, if any people ſhould come upon us, we muſt ſee them at ſome diſtance; and if we cannot avoid them, here are three of us, and a good long ſtaff with an iron point at one end, and a hook at the other: I ſhall exerciſe that, and keep them off, at leaſt till you get away : come along and fear not. So I pulled him along. - Being come near enough to diſcern better, we found, that what we took for houſes were rather ar- bours, being apparently made of green trees: then, indeed, I began to fancy ſome wild people inhabited them, and doubted whether it were ſafe to go nearer; but concealed my doubt, left. I ſhould intimidate Al- varado ſo that he ſhould run away, to which he was very much inclined. I only ſlackened my pace, which Alvarado perceiving, imagined that I ſaw ſome evil coming, which he thought unavoidable; and not daring to go from his company, he only condoled his misfortune; he dearly repented taking my ad- vice : that he feared we ſhould pay dearly for our filly curioſity; for indeed thoſe things were more like thieves’ dens, or wild people’s huts, than chriſ- tians’ habitations. By this time we were come near a ſpot of ground, pretty clear of trees, on which ſome animals were feed- ing, which I took to be goats; but Alvarado fancied them to be deer, by their ſwift flight at our appear- ing : however, I fancied by their ſhyneſs; that we were out of the way in our judgment concerning 12 PHILIP QUARLL. the arbours: for, ſaid I, if theſe were inhabited, thoſe creatures would not have been ſo ſcared at the ſight of men; and, if by nature wild, they would not graze ſo near men’s habitations, had there been any body in them. I rather believe ſome hermit has formerly lived there, and is either dead or gone. Al- varado, who to that time had neither heard nor ſeen any thing that could contradićt what I had ſaid, be- gan to acquieſce to it, and goes on. `, Being come within reach of plain diſcernment, we were ſurpriſed : if theſe, ſaid I, be the works of ſa- vages, they far exceed our expert artiſts. Their re- gularity appeared unconfined to the rules of art, and complete archite&ture without the craft of the artiſt; nature and time only being capable of bringing them to that perfeótion. They were neither houſes, huts, nor arbours; yet had all the uſefulneſs and agree- ments of each - i Having ſufficiently admired the uncommon beauty of the outſide without interruption, but rather divert- ed with the moſt agreeable harmony of various fing- ing-birds, as perched on a green hedge, which ſur- rounded about one acre of land near the place, we had the curioſity to ſee the infide; and being near- eſt the middlembit, we examined that firſt. . It was about nine feet high, and as much ſquare; the walls were ſtraight and ſmooth, covered with green leaves, ſomething like thoſe of a mulberry-tree, lying as cloſe and regular as ſlates on a ſlated houſe; the top went up rounding like a cupola, and covered in the ſame manner as the ſides: from each corner, iſſued a ſtraight ſtem, about twelve feet higher, bare of branches to top, which were very full of leaves, and ſpread making a moſt pleaſant canopy to the manſions . - - 'º. * , , ; : r - * : *::#;º t s > -º- tº PHILIP QUARLL. 15 Being full of admiration at the wonderful ſtrućture and nature of the place, we came to a door which was made of green twigs neatly woven, and faſten- i. with a ſmall ſtick, through a loop made of the 3. In e. The door being faſtened without, gave us encou- ragement to venture in ; it being evident that the hoſt was abſent: ſo we opened it, and the firſt thing we ſaw, being oppoſite to the door, was a bed lying on the ground, which was an hard dry hearth, very ſmooth and clean : we had the curioſity to examine what it was made of, and found it another ſubjećt offid- miration. The covering was a mat about three inches thick, made of a ſort of graſs, which though as dry hay, was as green as a leek, felt as ſoft 3S the gs, cotton; and was as warm as wool : the bed was inade of the ſame, and in the ſame manner, but three times as thick; which made it as eaſy as a down- bed; under that lay another but ſomewhat harder. At one ſide of the room ſtood a table made of two pieces of thin oak board, about three feet long, faſten- ed upon four ſticks driven into the ground, and by it a chair made of green twigs, at the door; at the other ſide of the room lay a cheſt on the ground, like a ſailor's ſmall cheſt; over it, againſt the wall, hung a linen jacket and breeches, ſuch as ſeamen wear on board ; on another pin hung a large coat, or gown, made of the ſame ſort of graſs, and after the ſame manner as the bed’s covering, but not above half an inch thick; and a cap by it of the ſame: theſe we ſuppoſed to be a winter garb for ſomebody. Having viewed the furniture of the dwelling-place, we examined its fabric, which we could not find out by the outſide, it being ſo cloſely covered with leaves; , * we found it to be ſeveral the inſide being 5. *** I4. PHILIP QUARLL. trees, whoſe bodies met cloſe, and made a ſolid wall, which by the breadth of every ſtem, we judged to be about fix inches thick : their bark being very ſmooth, and of a pleaſant olive colour, made a mighty agree- able wainſcotting ; the roof, which was hung very thick with leaves and branches, which reached from end to end, and were croſſed over by the fide ones that were woven between, which made a very even and ſmooth ceiling, ſo thick of leaves and branches, that no rain could penetrate. My companion’s uneaſineſs, expecting the hoſt’s return every moment, hindered my examining every thing more narrowly ; and hav- ing ſlightly looked into the cheſt, which lay open, wherein we ſaw nothing but ſheets of parchment, which his haſte would not permit me to look into, we went away. - - Going out we ſaw at one corner of the room, be- hind the door, a couple of firelocks, the fight of which much alarmed my company, and, I muſt con- feſs, ſtartled me ; for till then, I was inclinable to believe ſome hermit dwelt in the place: but finding arms in the room of a crucifix, and religious pićtures, which were the common ornaments of thoſe religious men, made me waver in my opinion ; and having taken the pieces in my hands, which, for ruſt, ap- peared not to have been fit for uſe for many years, re- newed my former opinion ; ſuppoſing them to be the effects of ſome ſhipwreck, which the hermit found upon the rocks. But my company, perfiſting in their own, haſtened out, and would have gone quite away, without ſeeing any more, had I not, by many argue ments, made them ſenſible, that if thoſe arms had been intended for the evil uſe Alvarado imagined, they would have been kept in better order; to which be- ing obliged to acquieſce, he conſented to go and es: PHILIP QUARLL. I 5 amine the other, it being as worthy of admiration as that we had ſeen, though quite of another nature, but much of the ſame height and make. The next we came at was covered with the ſame ſort of graſs as grew on the ground, which lay as even as though it had been mowed and rolled; behind it, were ſeveral lodges, made, as it were, for ſome dogs; but we neither ſaw nor heard any. Having viewed the place all around, we poſted the young fellow with us at the outſide, to give notice when any body appeared, left we ſhould be ſurpriſed whilſt we ſaw the infide : ſo, having opened the door, which was made and faſtened after the manner of the firſt, we went in, expecting to find another dwellin place, but it proved rather a kitchen; there being no bed, but only a parcel of ſhells, of different ſizes, which we ſuppoſed to be applied for utenfils, ſome being ſcorched at the outfide; as having been on the fire, but exceeding clean within ; the reſt were, both inſide and outfide, as fine as nakes of pearl. At one end of the room was a hole cut in the ground like a ſtew-ſtove, in great kitchens ; about three or four feet from that there was another fire- place, made of three ſtones, fit to roaſt at ; in both which places appeared to have been fire lately, by wood coals, and aſhes freſh made. This confirmed my opi- nion, that it wasan hermitage. Alvarado, who all along . feared we ſhould meet with men who would miſuſe us, was not a little pleaſed to find fire-places in room of beds, and kitchen utenfils inſtead of weapons. I hope, ſaid he, we are not in ſo great danger as I fear- ed; here cannot be many men, unleſs they crowd to- gether in yonder place ; and, if ſo they would have been here before now, had they been in the way. *His fears being in a great meaſure diſperſed, we look- 2 - B 2 e 16. PHILIP QUARLL. ed about more leiſurely ; and, ſeeing ſeveral ſhells, that were covered, on a ſhelf that lay acroſs two ſticks in the wall, which was made of turf, we had the cu- rioſity to ſee what was in them; and found in one, pickled anchovies; in others muſhrooms, capers, and other ſorts of pickles. Let them, ſaid I, be who they will that dwell here, I am ſure they know good eating ; and therefore, probably, may be no ſtrangers to good manners. Upon another ſhelf, behind the door, lay divers forts of dried fiſhes; and upon the . #. ſtood uncovered, two cheſts with fiſh and fleſh in ſalt. . Theſe proviſions being ſomewhat too voluptuous for an hermit, gave us room for ſpeculation. I have lived (ſaid Alvarado) at Mexico theſe ſix years, and have been at Peru about twenty times, and yet never heard talk of this iſland; the acceſs to it is ſo diffi- cult, and dangerous, that, I dare ſay, we are the firſt that have been on theſe fides of the rocks. I am very apt to believe, that a company of determin- ed Buccaniers, which are ſaid to frequent theſe ſeas, ſhelter here; and that the habitation we have ſeen, and this place, belong to their captain; and that the company reſorts in caves up and down theſe rocks. Really I could not well gainſay it, it being too proba- ble; yet I would not altogether acquieſce to his opi- nion, left he ſhould thereby take a motive to go away. before we had ſeen the other place. I muſt confeſs, ſaid. I, here is room for conjećtures, but no proof of certainty; however, let it be as you ſay, it is a plain. caſe here are none to diſturb us; therefore whilſt we have liberty, let us ſee the other place ; ſo we faſten-. ed the door as we found it, and went to the next, which was ſhut after the manner as the two preced ing, but made of quite different ſtuff; being a com PHILIP QUARLL. 17 plete arbour, compoſed of trees, planted within a foot of one another, whoſe branches were woven together in ſuch a regular manner, that they made ſeveral agreeable compartments, and ſo cloſe, that nothing but air could enter; it was of the ſame height and bigneſs with the kitchen : which ſtood at the other end of the dwelling-place, which made a very uni- form wing to it. The coolneſs of the arbour removed our doubts of its being another dwelling, unleſs only uſed in hot weather. f Having ſufficiently viewed the outſide, we went in, and found ſeveral boards, like dreſſers, or tables in a pantry, on which lay divers broad and deep ſhells, as beautiful as thoſe in the kitchen ; in ſome of which was butter, in others cream and milk. On a ſhelf lay ſeveral ſmall cheeſes, and on others a parcel of roots like Jeruſalem artichokes, which ſeemed to have been roaſted. All this did but confirm the opinion we were in, that it was no hermitage; there being ſufficient to gratify the appetite, as well as to ſupport nature. Therefore not knowing what to think of the maſter of the houſe, we made no long ſtay, but concluded to haſte and get our fiſh dreſſed, it being near dinner- time; and as the trees ſtood very thick in land, and might conceal men from our fight till we came too near to ſhun them ; we thought it proper to walk on # the outfide, near the rocks, that we might ſee at ſome diſtance before us. - - - Walking along, a phlegm ſticking in my throat, I happened to havk pretty loud; the noiſe was anſwer- ed from I believe twenty places of the rock, and in as many different founds; which alarmed Alvarado, who ºok it to be a ſignal from men concealed up and # down the rock, not confidering the difficulty of their 2O PHILIP QUARLL. to diſcern our ſpeaking Engliſh, let fall a bundle of ſticks he had under one arm, and a hatchet he carried in the other hand, and runs to me, being next to him, embracing me, and ſaying, Dear countrymen, for I hear you are Engliſhmen, by what accident are ye come hither ? a place, the approach whereof is de- fended by a thouſand perils and dangers, and not to be come at but by a narrow eſcape of death. Are ye ſhipwrecked 2 No, thank God, ſaid I, moſt re- verend father; it was mere curioſity that brought us hither ; theſe perils, which you ſay defended the ap- proach of this iſland, being abſent, by the extraordi- nary calmneſs cºf the ſea. But, if I may aſk, pray how did you come hither ? By the help of providence, replied the good old man, who ſnatched me from out of the ravenous jaws of death, to fix me in this ſafe and peaceable ſpot of land. I was ſhipwrecked, thanks to my Maker, and was ſaved by being caſt away. I conceive, fir, ſaid I, you have been chaſed by ſome pirates, and eſcaped ſlavery by ſtriking upon the rocks, which ſurround this iſland: but now you have avoided that diſmal fate, embrace the lucky op- portunity of getting away from a place ſo remote from human aſſiſtance, which your age makes you ſtand in need of. That is your miſtake, replied the old man : he who truſts in God, needs no other help. I allow * that, fir, ſaid I, but our truſt in God doth not require us to caſt away, or deſpiſe the help of man. I do not in the leaſt queſtion your piety, but miſtruſt the frail- ty of nature, and debility of age; therefore would have you come and live within the reach of atten- dance. You may without ſlackening your devotion, live in the world; you ſhall have no occaſion to con- cern yourſelf with any cares that may diſturb your [... thoughts. No, replied the old man ; was I to e made emperor of the univerſe, I would not be con- PHILIP QUARLL. 21 cerned with the world again; nor would you require me, did you but know the happineſs 1 enjoy out of it. Come along with me; and if after you have ſeen how I live here, you perſiſt in your advice, I will ſay you have no notion of an happy life. I have, good fir, ſaid I, already ſeen, with great admiration, your matchleſs habitation; but there are other neceſſaries your age requires; as clothes, to defend the . of the air; and meat ſuitable to the weakneſs of your ſtomach. That is your miſtake, replied the old man, I want for no clothes; I have a change for every ſea- ſon of the year: I am not confined to faſhions, but ſuit my own conveniences. Now this is my ſummer dreſs; I put on warmer as the weather grows colder; and for my meat, I have fiſh, fleſh, and fowls; and as choice as a man can wiſh for. Come, you ſhall dine with me, and ten to one but I may give you ve- niſon, and perhaps a diſh of wild fowl too: let us go' and ſee what Providence has ſent us. So we went to a wood, about a mile farther, where he had faſtened ſeveral low nets, in different gaps, in the thickſet; in one of which happened to be an animal ſomethin like a fawn, twice as big as an hare, the colour of a fox, and faced and footed like a goat. Did I not tell you, ſaid the good man, I might chance to give you veniſon now let us look after the fowls. So we, ‘went a little farther, at a place where he had hung a long net between two high trees, at the bottom of which was faſtened a bag of the ſame to receive the fowls, who in the night, being ſtopped by the net, fluttered to the bottom, there alſo happened to be É. ... A couple of fowls, made like woodcocks, but of the bigneſs and colour of a pheaſant, were taken at the bottom of a bag. Now ſaid the old man, theſe I have without committing the fin of bidding #, 22 PHILIP QUARLL. leſs for them than I know they are worth, or making the poulterers ſwear they coſt them more than they did. Well, now I may give you a diſh of fiſh alſo, it is but going half a mile, or thereabouts. There is no need, fir, ſaid I, for any more, there are but four of us, and here is proviſions for half a ſcore ; but if you are diſpoſed for fiſh, we have ſome in the boat on the other fide of the rock : it is but going for them. Very well, ſaid the old man; it is but going about a mile, then ſtrip and wade over a lake, then climb up a rugged rock twice backward and forward, to fetch what we can have for only taking a pleaſant walk, all the while diverted with the ſweet harmony of a number of fine birds. Look here : this complaiſance often puts men to a world of needleſs trouble : come, we will make a ſhift to pick a dinner out of theſe. Sir, ſaid I, it is no ſhift where there is ſuch plenty. Plenty 1 ſaid the old man ; why I tell ye, this is a ſe- cond garden of Eden; only here is no forbidden fruit, nor women to tempt a man. I ſee, fir, ſaid I, Pro- vidence ſupplies you plentifully with neceſſaries, if age does not deprive you of ſtrength. Age | replied the old man, why I am not ſo old as that comes to, neither: I was but eight-and-twenty when I was caſt away, and that is but fifty years ago. Indeed if I lived as you do that dwell in the wife world, who hurry on your days as if your end came on too ſlow, I might be accounted old. I do not gainſay, reverend father, but that you bear your age wonderfully well ; but a multiplicity of days muſt make the ſtrongeſt na- ture blind: yes, time will break the tougheſt conſtitu- . tion, and by what you ſay, you have ſeen a confider- able number of years. Yes, replied the old man, a few days have run over my head, but I never ſtrove to outrun them, as they do that live too faſt. Well, ſays PHILIP QUARLL. 23 he, you are a young man, and have ſeen fewer days than I, yet may be almoſt worn out : come, match this, ſays he. With that he gave a hem, with ſuch a ſtrength and clearneſs, that the ſound made my ears tingle for ſome minutes after. Indeed, fir, ſaid I, you have ſo far outdone what I can pretend to do, that I will not preſume to imitate you. Then I am afraid, ſaid he, you will prove to be the old man. Well, then you, or your friend, the ſtrongeſt of you, fetch hither that ſtone; it does not look to be very heavy (pointing at a large ſtone that lay about two yards off) I will endeavour, fir, ſaid I, to roll it, for I dare ſay, it is paſt my ſtrength to lift it. So to pleaſe the old man, I went to take it up ; but could hardly move it. Come, come, ſaid the old gentleman, I find that muſt be work for me. With that he goes, takes up the ſtone, and toſſes it to the place he bid me brin it. I fee, ſaid he, you have exerted your ſºft too often, which makes you now ſo weak: well, you fee the advantage of living remote from the world: Had you had leſs of human aſſiſtance, I am apt to be- lieve you would not want it ſo ſoon as you are likely to do. Come let us make much of that little ſtrength we have left, taking neceſſary ſupport at proper times: it is now paſt noon; therefore let us loſe no time, but haſte home to get our dinner ready. So we went back to the place where the bundle of ſticks lay, which we made the young fellow with us carry, and went dire&tly to the kitchen; where, whilſt he made a fire, one caſt the animal, and the other two pulled the fowls. I am ſorry, ſaid the old man, you? muſt take that trouble; but your preſence has fright- ened away my ſervant, who uſed to do that work for me. . Have you a ſervant, then, fir, ſaid I. Yes faid he, and one a native of this iſland." Then I find, º º 24 PHILIP QUARLL. fir, ſaid I, this iſland is inhabited. Yes, anſwered the old man with monkeys and myſelf, but nobody elſe, thank God: otherwiſe I can tell you, I ſhould hardly have lived ſo long. Then, fir, ſaid I, I ſup- poſe that was it we ſaw run up a tree. Yes, ſaid he, my, monkey like myſelf, loves not much company. Pray, fir, ſaid I, how did you bring him ſo well command, as to keep him with you, when he h liberty to run away ? I wonder the wild ones : entice him from you. I had him young, replied the old man, and made very much of him, which thoſe creatures dearly love: beſides, when he was grown up, the wild ones would not ſuffer him amongſt them; ſo that he was forced to remain with me. I had ano- ther before this ; but he I may ſay, was ſent by Pro- vidence, both to be an help and diverſion to me; §: he was ſo knowing that he took a great deal of la- bour off my hands, and diſperſed many anxious hours, which the irkſomeneſs of my ſolitude had created. It is now about twelve years fince; for I keep a me- morial, which indeed I deſigned to have been a jour- nal ; but I unfortunately let the regular order of the days ſlip out of my memory; however, I. obſerve a ſeventh day, and reckon the years from winter to winter; ſo I cannot well miſtake. One day, when I had roaſted a quantity of roots, which I eat inſtead of bread, having ſpread them on my table and cheſt to cool, in order to lay them by for uſe ; I went out, leaving my door open, to let Having walked an hour or two, I returned home, where I found a monkey, whom the ſmell of the hot roots had brought; who during my abſence, had been eating. Myºpreſence very much ſurpriſed him, yet * i.º.º. only diſcontinued eating, ſtar- PHILIP QUARLL. 25 ing me in the face; the unexpečted gueſt at once ſtart- led me, and filled me with admiration; for, certain- ly no creature of its kind could be compared to it for beauty. His back was of a lively green, his face and belly of a lively yellow ; his coat all over ſhin- ing like burniſhed gold. The extraordinary beauty of the creature raiſed in me an ardent deſire to keep him; but I deſpaired of ever making him tame, be- ing come to his full growth : therefore having reſolv- ed to keep him tied, I went in and ſhut the door, the beaſt, which till then, had not offered to make his eſcape, appeared very much diſturbed, and ſtared about him for ſome place to get out at : perceiving his diſorder, I did not advance, but turned my jº to him; to give him time to compoſe himſelf, which he in a ſhort time did, as appeared by his falling to eat again ; which made me conceive hopes that I ſhould in time, make him familiar. Having about me ſtale roaſted roots, which eat much pleaſanter than the freſh, and are leſs ſtuffing, I threw ſome at him, at which he ſeemed diſpleaſed, and ſtood ſtill a while, ſtaring in my face; but my looking well pleaſ- ed, which I believe the animal was ſenſible of, made him pick them up, and fall to eating with a freſh ap- petite. I was overjoyed at his eaſy compoſure; ſo reached him water in a ſhell, that the want of nothing might induce him to retreat. I ſet it down as near him as I could, without diſturbing him, he came to it very orderly, and having drank his fill, he laid it down, and looked me in the face, careleſsly feratching his backfide ; ſeeing he had done, I adº vanced, and took away the ſhell, at which he never The forward diſpoſition of the beaſt towards a per- feet familiarity, made me gºla to ſtay within thº 28 PHILIP QUARLL. and, from the very beginning, be ſo docile and trac- table. O ! ſurely it was endowed with more than natural inſtinét 1 for perfeót reaſon was ſeen in all its aćtions. Indeed I was happy whilſt I had him ; but my happineſs, alas ! was not of long ſtanding. As he ſpoke, I perceived tears in his eyes. Pray, fir, ſaid I, what became of that wonderful creature Alas! ſaid he, he was killed by monkeys of the other kinds, which fell upon him, one day, as he was go- ing for water by himſelf: for the poor dear creature was grown ſo knowing, that if, at any time, either firing or water was wanted, I had nothing to do but to give him the bundle of cords, or the empty veſſel, and he would ſtraight go and fetch either: in ſhort, he wanted nothing but ſpeech to complete him for hu- man ſociety. Indeed, fir, ſaid I, I cannot blame you for bemoaning the loſs of ſo incomparable a crea- ture; the account you give of him well entitles his memory to regret : but I hope this you have now, in a great meaſure, makes up your loſs. O ! not by far, replied the old man ; indeed he goes about with me, and will carry a faggot, or a veſſel of water, pick a fowl, turn the ſpit or ſtring, when meat is roaſting ; yet he is nothing like my dear Beaufidelle; for ſo I called that moſt lovely creature; beſides, this is unlucky in imitating me, he often does me miſ- ¥ chief. It was but the other day I had been writing for fiv x hours; I had occaſion to go out, and happened to leave my pen and ink upon the table, and the parchment I had been writing on cloſe by it: *I was no ſooner gone, but the miſchievous beaſt falls ork, ſcribbling over every word I had been writ- and when he had done, he lays it by in the ºff, as he ſaw me do what I had written, and takes out another, which he does the ſame to, and ſo to f PHILIP QUARLL. 29 half a ſcore more ; my return prevented his doing more miſchief: however, in a quarter of an hour, that I was abſent, he blotted out as much as I had been full fix in months writing. Indeed I was angry, and would have beaten him ; but that I confidered my revenge would not have repaired the damage, but ra- ther perhaps, add to my loſs, by making the beaſt run away. Pray, fir, ſaid I, how came you by him 2 did he alſo give himſelf to you ? no, replied the old man, I had him young, and by mere accident, unex- pećted and unſought for ; having loſt both time and labour about getting one in the room of him I had ſo unfortunately loſt. The old ones are ſo fond of their young, that they never are from them, unleſs in their play they chaſe one another into the other kind’s quarters, where their dams dare not follow them : for they are ſuch enemies to one another, that they watch all opportunities to catch all they can of the contrary ſort, which they immediately ſtrangle : which keeps their increaſe very backward, that would otherwiſe grow too numerous for the food the iſland produces ; which is, I believe the cauſe of their ani- moſity. 3. - - About eight years ago, which is the time I had this beaſt, I was walking under one of the cluſters of trees where the green fort of monkeys harbour, which being the largeſt and moſt ſhady in the iſland, I took the moſt delight therein : as I was walking, at a ſmall diſtance from me this creature dropt off a tree, and lay for dead; which being of the grey sind, made me wonder leſs at the accident. -I went and took him up; and accidentally handling his throat, I open- ed his windpipe, which was almoſt ſqueezed cloſe by that which took him, which my ſudden comin vented from ſtrangling quite. I was extremely wº 30 PHILIP QUARLL. pleaſed at the event, by which I got what my paſt cares and diligence never could produce me. Having pretty well recovered its breath, and 1 ſeeing no viſi- ble hurt about it, I imagined that I ſoon might re- cover it quite ; ſo haſtened home with it, gave it warm milk, and laid it on my bed ; ſo that with careful nurſing I quite recovered him ; and with good keeping made the rogue thrive to that degree, that he has outgrown the reſt of his kind. No queſ- tion, fir, ſaid I, having taken ſuch pains with him, you love him as well as his predeceſſor. I cannot ſay fo, neither, replied the old man; though I cannot ſay but that I love the creature : but its having the ill fortune to be of that unlucky kind which was the death of my dear Beaufidelle, in a great meaſure leſſens my affections. Beſides, he falls ſo ſhort, both of his me- rit and beauty, that I muſt give the deceaſed the pre- ference : and was it not for his cunning tricks, which often divert me, I ſhould hardly value him at all : but he is ſo very cunning and facetious, that he makes me love him, notwithſtanding I mortally hate his kind. I muſt divert you, whilſt dinner is getting ready, with an account of ſome of his tricks. Being extremely fond of me, he very ſeldom would be from me, but followed me every where : and as he uſed to go with me when I went to examine my nets, ſeeing me now and then take out game, he would of his own accord, when he ſaw me buſy writing, go and fetch what happened to be taken. One day finding a fowl in the net-bag, he pulled it alive as he brought it home; ſo that I could not ſee any thing whereby to diſcern its kind. As ſoon as he came in, he ſet it down with ſuch motions as ex- preſſed joy; the poor naked fowl was no ſooner out of his clutches, but that it took to its legs, for PHILIP QUARLL. 31 want of wings : its ſudden eſcape ſo ſurpriſed the cap- tor, that he ſtood amazed for a while, which gave the poor creature time to gain a confiderable ſcope of ground ; but the aſtoniſhed beaſt, being recovered from his ſurpriſe, ſoon made after it: but was a con- fiderable time before he could catch it, having nothing to lay hold of; ſo that the fowl would ſlip out of his hands. The race held about a quarter of an hour, in which time the poor creature, having run itſelf out of breath, was forced to lie down before its purſuer, who immediately threw himſelf upon it; ſo took it up in his arms, and brought it home, but was not ſo ready to ſet it down as before ; for he held it by one leg till I had laid hold of it. - I had a ſecond time as good diverſion, but after ano- ther manner. One morning early, whilſt I was buſy in my cottage, he went out, unperceived by me; and having been a confiderable time abſent, I feared that ſuch another accident had befallen him as that which happened to his predeceſſor; ſo I went to ſee after him, and as he would often go and viſit the nets in the woods, I went there firſt, where I found him very buſy with ſuch an animal as this we have here, which he found taken in one of the gap-mets, and being near as big, he kept him a great while ſtruggling for maſ- terſhip ; ſometimes he would take it by the ears, now . and then by the leg, next by the tail; but could not get him along : at laſt he laid hold of one of his hind legs, and with the other hand ſmote him on the back, in order to drive him, not being able to pull him along; but the beaſt being ſtrong, ſtill made towards the thickſet, where he certainly would have hauled the driver, had I not come up to help him. Thus the old gentleman entertained us with his monkey’s tricks whilſt dinner was dreſſing. 32 PHILIP QUARLL. The dinner being ready, we went to the dwelling- place to eat it, leaving the young fellow that was with us to attend the roaſted meat, while we ate the firſt diſh. -- The old gentleman having laid the cloth, which, though ſomething coarſe, being made out of part of a ſhip’s fail, was very clean, he laid three ſhells on it, about the bigneſs of a middle-ſized plate, but as beau- tiful as any nakes of pearl I ever ſaw ; gentlemen, ſays he, if you can eat off ſhells, ye are welcome; I have no better plates to give you. Sir, ſaid I, theſe are preferable to filver ones, in my opinion ; and I very much queſtion whether any prince in Europe can pro- duce ſo curious a ſervice. They may be richer, re- plied the old man, but not cleaner. - The firſt diſh he ſerved was ſoup in a large deep ſhell, as fine as the firſt, and one ſpoon made of ſhell, which he ſaid was all his ſtock, being not uſed to, nor expecting company : however, he fetched a couple of muſcle ſhells, which he waſhed very clean; then gave Alvarado one, and took the other himſelf, obliging me to make uſe of the ſpoon : ſo we ſat down, Alva- rado and 1 upon the cheſt, which we drew near the table, and the old gentleman (though much againſt his will) upon the chair. . . . . . . . . . . Being ſat down, we fell to eating the ſoup, whoſe fragrant ſmell excited my appetite; and I profeſs the taſte thereof was ſo excellent, that I never eat any comparable to it at Pontac's, nor any where before : it was made of one-half of the beaſt we took in the morning, with ſeveral forts of herbs which eat like ar- tichokes, aſparagus, and celery; there were alſo bits of roaſted roots in it, inſtead of toaſted bread, which added much to the richneſs of it, taſting like chef- nuts; but what ſurpriſed me the moſt, there were PHILIP QUARLL. 33 green peaſe in it, whoſe extraordinary ſweetneſs was diſcernable from every other ingredient. Pity, ſaid I, the acceſs to this iſland is ſo difficult; what a bleſ- fed ſpot of land would it make, were it but inhabit- ed here naturally grows what in Europe we plow, till, and labour hard for. You ſay, replied the old man, this would be a bleſſed ſpot of ground, if it was inhabited : now I am quite of another opinion ; for I think its bleſſings confiſt in its not being inhabited, being free of thoſe curſes your populous and celebrat- ed cities abound in ; here is nothing but praiſes and thankſgivings heard : and as for nature beſtowing freely, and of her own accord, what in Europe you are obliged, by induſtry and hard labour, in a man- ner to force from her, wonder not at ; conſider how much you daily rob her of her due, and charge her with ſlander, and calumny: do you not frequently ſay, if a man is addićted to any vice, that it is his nature, when it is the effect and fruit of his corruption ? ſo nature, who, attended the great origin of all things at the creation, is now by vile wretches, deemed in fault for all their wickedneſs: had man remained in his firſt and natural ſtate of innocence, nature would alſo have continued her original indulgence over him; we may now think ourſelves very happy if that bleſ- fing attends our labour which before the fall of man flowed on him, accompanied with eaſe and pleaſure. Now theſe peaſe, which have ſo much raiſed your ſurpriſe, are indeed the growth of this iſland, though not its natural product, but the gifts of providence, and the fruits of labour and induſtry. I have tilled the ground ; providence procured the ſeed; nature gave it growth, and time increaſe : with ſeven peaſe and three beans, I have, in four years time raiſed ſeed enough to ſtock a piece of ground, out of which Iga- 34 PHILIP QUARLL. ther yearly a ſufficient quantity for my uſe, beſides preſerving freſh ſeed. No doubt, fir, ſaid I, but when right means are taken, proſperity will attend. By that time, having eaten ſufficiently of the ſoup, he himſelf would carry the remains to the young man in the kitchen, and fetch in the boiled meat and oy- ſter ſauce, which he brought in another ſhell, much of the ſame nature with that which the ſoup was ſerved in, but ſomething ſhallower, which eat as de- licious as houſe-lamb. , Having done with that, he fetches in the other half of the beaſt roaſted, and ſeveral ſorts of delicate pic- kles which I never eat of before, and muſhrooms, but of a curious colour, flavour, and taſte : theſe, ſaid he, are the natural produćt of a particular ſpot of round; where, at a certain time of the year, he #. he gathered, for the ſpace of fix days only, three fizes of muſhrooms : for though they were all buttons, and fit to pickle, by that time he had gathered all, he had alſo to ſtew, and ſome about four inches over, which he broiled, and they eat as choice as any veal cutlet. - * . . . . . Theſe pickles, fir, ſaid I, though far exceeding any I ever did eat in Europe, are really, at this time," needleſs ; the meat wanting nothing to raiſe its re- liſh; no fleſh being more delicious. - Having done with that, I offered to take it away, but he in no wiſe would permit me; ſo went away with it himſelf, and brought the fowls, at which I - wi newhat vexed ; for I feared I ſhould find no roc y ſtomach for any, having eat ſo heartily of the meat; but having, at his preſſing requeſt, taſt- ed them, my appetite renewed at their inexpreſſible - jº,"; I fell to eating afreſh. * . Having done with that diſh, the young man, hav- * PHILIP QUARLL. 35 ing nothing to do in the kitchen, came and was bid to take away and fall to : in the mean time, the good old man fetched us out of his dairy a ſmall cheeſe of his own making, which being ſet down, he relat- ed to us the unaccountable manner he came by the antelopes which ſupplied him with the milk it was made with ; which introduced ſeveral weighty re- marks on the wonderful acts of providence, and the ſtrićtneſs of the obligations we lie under to our great benefactor; likewiſe the vaſt encouragement we have to love and ſerve God, the benefits and comforts of a clear conſcience, as alſo the ineſtimable treaſure of content: from that he epitomized the different tem- pers and diſpoſitions of men, much commending time- ly education as being a means to reverſe and change evil inclinations; highly praiſing the charity of thoſe pious people, who chuſe to beſtow good ſchooling upon poor folks’ children, before clothing, and even food; the firſt being rather the moſt neceſſary, and the laſt the eaſieſt to come at. - . That diſcourſe being ended, he inquired very care- fully into the ſtate of his native country, which, he ſaid, he left fifty years ago in a very indulgent diſpo- fition. I gave him the bett account I could at that time of all the tranſa&tions that had happened in Eng- land fince his abſence. The relation of paſt evils, faid he, are like pictures of earthquakes and ſhip- wreck, which affect the mind but ſlightly ; and, though I think myſelf out of any prince’s power, yet. I ſhall always partake with my countrymen’s grief pray be explicit; what king have we now a com- plete patriot, and father to his ſubjećts, ſaid I : both tender-hearted and merciful, encouraging virtue, and ſuppreſſing vice, a promoter of religion, and an ex- araple of charity. Then, ſaid he, in a manner which 36 PHILIP QUARLL. expreſſed zeal and joy, long may that pious monarch live, and his bleſſed poſterity for ever grace the Bri- tiſh throne And may Old England, by its faithful obedience and loyalty, henceforth atone for its paſt rebellions, that it may remove that execrable re- roach it now lies under! to which we all ſaid, Amen. Then he filled up the ſhell we drank out of, and drank good King George’s health, which was ſuc- ceeded with that of the Royal Family, and proſperi- ty to the Church. Thus ended a moſt delicious and ſplendid dinner, and a converſation both delightful and inſtructive: but, having not as then mentioned any thing about his own hiſtory, which I exceeding- ly longed to inquire into, I begged him to inform us by what accident he came thither, and how he had ſo long maintained a good ſtate of health. To which he anſwered, time would not permit him to relate his own hiſtory, being very long, and the remainder of the day too ſhort : but that he would, before we part- ed, give it me in writing ; having, for want of other occupation, made a memorial : but as to the main- taining of his health, he would tell me by word of mouth. The receipt, ſaid he, is both ſhort and eaſy ; yet I fear you will not be able to follow it: look, you muſt uſe none but wholeſome exerciſes, obſerve a ſober diet, and live a pious life : now, if you can confine yourſelf to this way of living, I will be bound, that you will both preſerve your health, and waſte leſs money : but, what is more valuable than *all that, you will not endanger your precious ſoul. I returned him thanks for his good advice, and pro- miſed him I would obſerve it as ſtriëly as I could. I am afraid, replied he, that will not be at all : you have too many powerful obſtacles, the world and the fleſh, from whom your affections muſt be entirely with- - 3 PHILIP QUARLL. 37 f Take but your due, and never covet more. drawn, and all commerce prohibited which is moral- ly impoſſible whilſt living : therefore, ſince you are obliged to converſe with the world, I will give you a few cautions, which, if rightly taken, may be of uſe to you. Make not the world your enemy, nor rely too much on its fidelity. Be not too free with your friend : repetitions of fa- vours often wear out friendſhip. .. Waſte not your vigour or ſubſtance on women, left weakneſs and want be your reward. Secrets are not ſafe in a woman’s breaſt; it is a con- finement the ſex cannot bear. País no contračt over liquor; wine overcomes reaſon and dulls the underſtanding. - He who games puts his money in jeopardy, and is not ſure of his own. " " … There is but little honour to wager on ſure grounds, and leſs wiſdom to lay upon a chance. And in all your dealings take this for a conſtant He whom unlawful means advance to gain, Inſtead of comfort, finds a conſtant pain : What e'en by lawful arts we do poſſeſs, Old age and ſickneſs make it comfortleſs. Be rul’d by me, not to increaſe your ſtore By means unjuſt, 'twill make you poor, I returned him thanks for his good morals, the copy of which I begged he would give me in writing, for my better putting them in practice; to which he rea- ht obſerve them ; and ap a confiderable be- after. ~~...~ %g ****5 tº **** * I was obliged to . ſh f , which e much ; for I was o taken wi , that if I had not had a º and mother, whoſe years required my preſence, ſpent the reſt of my days with him. I i my duty; but, after ged to yield º . ź preſſed my v. -- ook my leave. The good ving my regret to leave him, could not to part with me. Indeed, ſaid he, with . eyes, I ſhould have been very glad to have d a fellow-creature in th -X. § I adviſe you to of it is ſo dangerous * there- § he ſhow you ſome ol . robbed once by Indians; villanouſly inveſ * by pirates; the rufi d to carry him away, like a ſlave, to their own c , and there make a ſhow of him, as if he had been a monſter. Talking, we walked under ſeveral of the before- mentioned cluſters of trees which proceed from one fingle plant: being come to one larger than the and which he ſaid he frequen º largeſt in the iſland; this, ſaid he, own branches, a whole acre of lan ral remarks on the wonderful works of nature ºn'virtués and properties as life happy. From that he m ions on the fatal effects of diſ 4o PHILIP QUARLL. it again. With that he takes out of his breeches pock- et ſome roaſted roots, which he commonly carried about him, to throw at them when he went that way, which made them leſs ſhy of him, Having broken the roots in bits, he lay them down in their fight; for they on both ſides were peeping under the leaves of the trees where they harboured: then he cut a ſcore of ſticks, about the thickneſs of one’s finger, and near a foot and a half long, and lay them over the bits of roots: then we retired to ſome ſmall diſtance, and hid ourſelvs behind the trees. We were no ſooner out of fight but that they haſ- tened to the meat; the green monkeys having leſs ground to go, were at them firſt ; yet never ſtopt, but went on to hinder the other's approach, who vi- gorouſly ſtrove to gain ground. The ſtruggle was hard, and the vićtory often wavering : each party al- ternately gave way : at laſt the grey ſort kept the advantage, and drove their adverſaries back, who be- ing come where the ſticks lay, immediately took them up, and charged their enemies with a freſh courage, i. a yielding army that has received new forces: thus, with their clubſters in the front, they fell on their adverſaries with great vigour, knocking them down like our Engliſh mob at an election ; ſo drove them back again almoſt to their own quarters. In the mean time ſtragglers of both kinds, who had not joined with the main bodies of the armies, ſeeing the coaſt clear, and the proviſions unguarded, unanimouſly fell to plunder, and quietly did eat what their comrades fought for ; which the combatants per- éeiving, left off fighting, and of one accord turned upon the plunderers, who, by that time having de- voured the booty, left them the field without con- ys *š. tending any farthe PHILIP QUARLL. 4 The battle being over, the old gentleman would have us to go on, leaſt, ſaid he, they ſhould fall to it again out of revenge; for theſe creatures are very ſpiteful. - º s Having diſperſed them by our advancing, as intend- ed, we walked from under the trees at the outſide, to have a better view of the rock, which in ſome places, he ſaid, changes its form as one approaches it: and as he ſaid, being got clear of the trees, we ſaw at diſtance, as it were, a conſiderabic number of build-, ings, and here and there ſomething like iteeples, which repreſented an handſome city ; and ſeemingly the houſes appeared ſo plain, that had I not been ap- priſed of the illuſion, I ſhould have taken it for ſuch ; but Alvarado and the young fellow, could not be per- fuaded but what we ſaw were really buildings, and even in the iſland, though the old gentleman inade us itop awhile, the better to obſerve every thing ; then bid us keep our eyes fixed at what we looked at, and go on : we perceived every particular of what we obſerved to change its form ; that wilicia at firit ſeem- ed to be a fronting, ſhowed itſelf either ſideways or backwards: and ſo of every object, till being come at a certain diſtance, all the agreeableneſs of the proſpec- tive, of a ſudden, turned into its real ſhape like a phantom ; which whilſt viſible, ſcreens that which it ftands before ; but, by its vaniſhing, leaves it diſ- covered. * Being come as near th it would permit, we coul could in the leaſt ſoften its ru more agreeable aſpect, than tho ſented in the pictures of ſhipwre The old gentleman thereu - ad obſervations on the alterations that di D′ 3 42 PHILIP QUARLL. upon objećts, and ſhowed how eaſily ºur organs of fight may be deceived; drawing from this inference, that we ºught not to be too poſitive of the reality of what we }. afar off, nor to affirm for truth that which we only heard of. º Having ended that diſcourſe, he carried us to the other fide of the jutting part of the rock, which, ad- vancing like a baſtion of a fortified wall, ſcreened from our eyes a ſecond piece of wonder; a fine rain- bow, iſſuing, as it were, out of the mouth of a giant, lying on a rock, reaching quite over the lake; at the bottom of it I could not but ſtop to admire the vari- ous colours it conſiſted of, which far exceeding in beauty and livelineſs, any I ever ſaw in the ſky, I pre- ſently imagined that it proceeded from the rays of the ſun falling upon ſome pond, or ſtanding water, whoſe refle&tions roſe and met the tops, which cauſed that beautiful circle. But Alvarado, who, by what he had ſeen before, concluded that the iſland was en- chanted, ſaid, it was another illuſion, which the place was full of ; and would have gone away, but that the old man fell a laughing, and ſaid, it is a fign you ſel- . dom inquire into natural cauſes: well, do but come a little nearer to it; and you will find that which you term an illuſion, is the natural effects of all fountains when the ſun ſhines. - Being come to the place it proceeded from, it proved, as he ſaid, only a fountain, but of the clear- eſt and ſweeteſt water that ever was taſted ; but the place it iſſued out of was changed from the likeneſs of a giant to that of ſome ſtrange fort of creature; which though having no particular reſemblance, yet would bear being compared to ſeveral different things. The old man’s a was, that it reſembled a whale ſpurting water out of one noſtril. Alvarado, ſuppoſ- - * PHILIP QUARLL. 43 ed it to be more like a horſe, or a cow; and rather the laſt, there being horns plain to be ſeen. For my part, I could find no proper ſimilitude to it, but that of an old ruined monument, which formerly they built over the heads of ſprings. Timothy An- chors (for that was the name of the young fellow that was with us) being aſked, what he could make of it? Why really, ſaid he, nothing, unleſs it be an old patched-up pump that ſtands at the end of my mo- ther’s court in Roſemary-lane (which every ſpring runs out of itſelf;) which compariſon made us all to laugh. x- Thus we differed in our opinions as to the likeneſs, yet agreed, that it was the fineſt fountain, and the beſt water we ever ſaw or drank. What ſurpriſed me moſt, was, the force where with it ſprung from the rock that ſtood full five yards from the place it fell on, which was another ſubjećt of admiration; for certainly the arts of men could not have invented nor completed a more compačt or pleaſanter baſon, though it had been for a fountain to adorn a monarch’s garden : indeed there were no maſons, nor any ex- pert artiſt’s exquiſite works to be ſeen, but a deal of nature’s matchleſs underſtanding : there regularity, dimenſion, and proportion, concerted to make it uſe- ful, convenient, and agreeable. The baſon was very near round, about eight feet. diameter, a bank around it near a foot high, and as broad at top, ſlanting gently at the bottom, both in- ſide and outfide, which made a moſt pleaſant and uni- form bank, adorned with various ſmall flowers and herbs of divers beautiful colours, and moſt fragrant ſmells. = . w Having viewed with pleaſur regularity in a wild and unin amazement ſuch place, I walked - tay would permit: N. le an, taking me ſaid he, beſtowed e fertility of this # . tº # or that whic ent many hours in that rant; but have found #. i-pond, by no means ſtay, but takes his leave, ſaying, he was not very curious of ſupernatural things. Supernatu- ral, ſaid the old man, you cannot well callit, though to you it may be very amazing : it is therefore well deſerving your fight; I mean your hearing ; the eyes having no ſhare in the entertainment: we ſhall only ſing a few pſalms; I am ſure there can be no harm in that, but rather good, being an holy exerciſe in di- vine worſhip, in which all good ſouls ought to join. That may be, ſaid Alvarado; but I love to ſee thoſe with whom I worſhip ; I do not think myſelf as yet company for ſpirits. As for your part, ſaid Alva- rado, (ſpeaking to me) you may do which you pleaſe; but take care your curioſity do not coſt you too dear. . Tim and I will wait for you in the boat; but pray be not too long before you come. So &:::::::: the old gentleman thanks for his kin ſainment, they went away; at which the good man was much *:: What, B r friends imagine fºg. º --> ::::::3% wer thoſ N. echoes, that hitherto nothing but the Almighty’s praiſes, º ‘ouſneſs, ſ aying, i thereof to : Now, ſaid th and fing the hun fir, .." do not know § 3%;3% & 3%'.3% OVCC. to be fiſhes by their ſwimming N. o my thinking, looked like ſtars ſhooting from place to place in the ſky. Having ſpent ſeveral minutes in ad- miring the ſurpriſing nature and beauty of the fiſhes I took notice of the pon v. which 48 PHILIP QUARLL. Providence; that if ever theſe writings ſhould have the luck to fall into the hands of men after my deceaſe, they might be an encouragement to the deſtitute, and a comfort to the afflićted, that he who rightly ap- plies himſelf, and firmly truſts in the Almighty, ſhall, at his extremity, find relief: and now my intent is in ſome meaſure anſwered, expe&ting you will reviſe and publiſh it when you come to Old England. I muſt enjoin you not to give it out as my own dićta- tion, but an hiſtory taken from heads out of my me- morial ; for I have been obliged to inſert particulars, and uſe ſuch expreſſions, without which the account I give of myſelf would have been imperfečt ; and which, being related as by me, may chance to be ac- counted ſelf-flattery, which is a cenſure I would will- ingly avoid. I told him he might depend upon it, I fhould always, and on all accounts, be very tender of any thing that could in the leaſt lefſen the merit of the ſubject, or tarniſh the luſtre of the hiſtory. With that the good man takes me in his open arms, and embraces me over and over with all the tender- meſs words and ačtions could expreſs; ſaying, with tears in his eyes, that my exit was a renewing of his paſt grief, and would for a confiderable time damp the pleaſures he before my coming did enjoy in his folitude; ſince now he again has had the comfort to converſe with one of his dear countrymen, after full §. fifty years being ſevered from human ſociety. The height of his grief having for ſome moments ſtopt the utterance of his words, he fighing laid his head upon my neck, ſqueezing me cloſe in his arms. This moſt tender and moving ačtion moved me to a reciprocal grief: never did any man reflect with mºre reluétancy than when I parted with that good •ld man, who having recovered in ſome meaſure his º PHILIP QUARLL. 49 former firmneſs of mind, his foul being again reſign- cd we repeated our embraces with a mutual affection. Then I took my leave; but he would not part with me there ; he would by all means wait on me to the lake I was to wade over to come at the rock, on the other fide of which the boat waited for me : and when I came thither, he would alſo have waded over with me, that he might have the ſatisfaction of ſeeing me ſafe from the dangerous rock ; but I would in no wiſe permit him. Thus having prevailed upon him to ſtay behind, I prepared to wade over : ſo after a few more embraces, I croſſed the lake, and came to my impa- tient companions, who received me with heavy repri- mands for truſting myſelf ſo long alone with that ne- cromancer; for nothing, ſaid they, ſhall ever perſuade me, a man can have ſuch plenty of dainties with only the help of nature: no, no, he may talk of Provi- dence as much as he pleaſes; he applies to the black art, and thoſe voices he calls echoes are his inviſible imps, which (if truth be known) are often employed in raiſing the wind, and cauſing ſtorms which render theſe ſeas often ſo dangerous: and it has been tib- ſerved, that few or no ſhips come near theſe rocks, and eſcape being ſtaved. For my part, I aſſure you I do not think myſelf ſafe, whilſt within the reach of his enchantments. With that he takes one of the oars out of young Tim's hand, and falls to rowing. Indeed, ſaid Tim, as you ſay, he looked very much like a conjuror with his long hair and beard; and I believe he is conjuring now. See, here is bad wea- ther coming ; let us make haſte from theſe rocks. . . . Even as he ſaid, in ſhort, ſo it happened ; for in . a little time after the wind roſe, and the ſea began to be a little rough ; ſo that I was forced to take the hitcher, and with it “.the boat from the rocks, $o PHILIP QUARLL. whither the waves very often drove us ; but, ſtanding out to ſea, the wind grew more calm, and fair for the continent : I took one of the oars, and by help of our ſail, in a ſhort time we got ſafe to ſhore; where being arrived very much fatigued, we put up at the firſt cottage, which was inhabited by an old man and woman, Indians, where we dreſſed our fiſh, and went to ſupper; which was ſcarce over, but I was hurried on board, the wind being tacked about, and fair for our departure. We weighed anchor on the ſeventeenth day of May, 1724, and ſtood out to ſea, and ſailed ſouth and by eaſt till we arrived on the 26th at Panama on Terra Firma, after meeting with ſome ſtormy wea- ºther. Here we began to traffic, in our way home, or ſome corn, neceſſary for our following voyage ; *as alſo cotton, ſome metals, roſin, gums, and pep- ºper. Our ſtay was not long here; for we failed from thence on the fifth of June, the wind being then very favourable : but we had not failed above twenty leagues, when we met with a violent ſtorm, which laſted ſomehours, and the wind blowing hard at N. N. E. we had the misfortune to loſe our ſurgeon, one John Davis, who being imprudently upon deck was waſhed overboard by a prodigious wave coming in at the forecaſtle : our ſhip received no damage in that ſtorm, but our loſs of Mr. Davis was very great, and worſe than if any other man on board had been miffing; for we might alſo call him our chaplain, as a well as ſurgeon; and by his exemplary pious life, dur- *ing the time he belonged to our ſhip, he might really be called a divine. He was a man, who as he told me, had been educated at Hart-Hall, Qxon, in his early day *. and was deſigned for the ſacred robe; but biºgenius very much inclining to the pleaſant art PHILIP QUARLL. 51 of phyſic and ſurgery, he afterwards made them his pračtice; but meeting with ſome misfortunes, about the 35th year of his life, he left England in the year 1711, and embarked aboard the John and Mary for sº New England, where he lived till the year 1723, when our ſhip arrived at that country, at that time want- ing a ſurgeon, for our own died juſt at our approach near the continent. Our captain, on inquiry, hearing an excellent charaćter of Mr. Davis, agreed with him for our voyage till we returned back thither again. I think it but juſt to eternize his memory in theſe memoirs, and give him the chara&ter which he merited. # He was a pious good man, ſober, juſt, and virtu- ous ; ready to ſerve, but never to offend any man. His morals were inſtrućtive to all thoſe who knew him, and his conſtant exhortations (while onboard our ſhip) to frequent daily prayers, was the reaſon that we eſteemed him the doctor of our fouls, as well as ſurgeon to our bodies. Nay, which is ſtill more, while he was with us, though he never entered intºſa- cred orders, yet he told us, he thought it his duty to give us the beſt inſtructions he was capable of, for the preſervation of our ſouls and bodies, both which were always in danger: and accordingly, after di- vine ſervice (as I may call it) was performed by him in a very ſolemn manner, he would frequently diſcourſe on the heinouſneſs of the fin of man, which occaſion- cd the ſufferings of Chriſt; on the terrors of hell, and the joys of heaven; as alſo on the glorious creation of: the world, ſetting forth the works of omnipotence inº very lively colours, telling the advantage, pleaſure, and beauty; that attended a godly life. Sometimes. his diſcourſes would be on natural philoſophy, which were extremely well digº : at other times on forme ...º s” PHILIP QU ARL . of the ſciences, moſt of which he well und to which we gave very great attention, firous of ſuch uſeful knowledge: in ſhort, th. was greatly lamented by the captain as well as myſelf, and indeed by all the ſhip's crew ; for he was a man of a quick thought, and lively apprehenſion ; had an univerſal knowledge in things, entirely free from re- ſervedneſs, but of perfect humility and condeſcenſion, erſtood, and ----- dear to all that ever knew him. Thus, having given an imperfeót charaćter of that great man, to whoſe memory I owe ſo much, I ſhall proceed to a further deſcription of ou age. A to the coaſts on thoſe ſeas, I think it needleſs tº  & § . any mention thereof, they having been gº ºg ſcrib hers ſcribed already by our modern geogr anywiſe uſeful to my purpoſe ; ſo th ly omit it, and only give an account o where we traded or touched at for freſh F 3. and emark what happ ed mo ice in our voyage home to England. : weather now proving more favourable, I be orials of my good old. . ing ſympathy did of his misfort could I leſs ſympat ermitical life. I hat he had lab amazed by this good man’s preet doned the world, content to live in leſome iſland, uninhabited by any m he has had the ſpace of fifty emplate on the follies an vils that attend this pºi 3.S abide and never deparl §.º. o peaceably 54 PHILIP QUARLL. bit by one, and did not live above ſix hours after ; though his death had been prevented, I believe, had we not met with the misfortune of loſing Mr. Davis our ſurgeon. Here, alſo we caught ſome mullets, and ſeveral forts of fiſh, extremely good, though un- known to us as to their names. In this iſland there is a creature which the Indians call a Mundago, but the Spaniards a Sloth, which I think is its propereſt name; for it is a creature which ſeems to ſleep as it walks, by its ſlow motion : and it is reported, that it eats the leaves of trees, which are its only food ; but is ſo prodigiouſly lazy, that when it has cleared one tree of its leaves, it will be almoſt ſtarved to death be- fore it attempts to climb another: in ſhort, it is a very ugly creature, and ſeems to be of the monkey kind by its make, but its hair is thicker and longer, nor is it ſo agreeable to look at, and is different in its nature. Here we alſo got freſh water and wood; for there are very good brooks on that iſland, and wood enough. While we lay near the iſland I went aſhore; and, in my converſation with a Spaniard, he related to me the following account of one Thomas Jenkins, a Lancaſhire man, who was boatſwain on board a merchant’s ſhip, whoſe name I have fince forgot, who was left on that iſland, and lived alone there two years and three months; but was firſt ſeen on that iſland by ſome Indians who came from the main for oyſters and other ſhell-fiſh, which they fre- quently gather for the Spaniards. He made his eſ- ºcape from them, and hid himſelf in the woods; fear- *ing that they would carry him to the Spaniards; and, by that means, he might be made a ſlaye; chufing rather ſolitude, than to enter into bondage for his life. However, an Engliſh ſhip trading on that coaſt, had notice of it from the Indians; and, imagini that he might be an Engliſhman caſt away, or PHILIP QUARLL. 55 ſhore there (as he really was) by ſome pirate who had been on thoſe ſeas, they ſent their boat with fix hands, to the iſland, in ſearch of him. They took their ſpeaking trumpet with them, and, by that means, after about fix hours ſtay on the iſland, they found him out. He told them, that, at his firſt being ſet on ſhore upon the iſland, it ſeemed very melancholy and frightful ; when he begun to refle&t on the barbarity of the pirates, to leave him there without proviſions, or any manner of neceſſaries whereby he might ſupport himſelf (they leaving him only his wearing clothes, and his pocket-knife. If they had left him any fire arms and ammunition, his caſe would not have been near ſo deſperate; becauſe he then might have not only defended himſelf againſt any ene- my, but likewiſe have killed ſome goats, or fowls, for his ſubſiſtence.) He alſo ſaid, that what made him very melancholy, was, to think his habitation, and place of abode, was where he could have no hu- man ſociety, and in an iſland that he, at firſt, knew not whether there was any thing on it for his ſub- ſiſtence, as never being on that coaſt before. But the ſecond day of his being there, he took a ſurvey of the iſland, and found, that there were monkeys, goats, &c. and alſo good fiſh. He dreaded greatly the ſnakes, which were larger than he had ever ſeen before; however, as they endeavoured to get from him, he reſted pretty well ſatisfied; hoping there was no beaſt of prey to hurt him there; for fear of which, at firſt he climbed up into a pimento-tree * to ſleep. He was well pleaſed to find ſuch good ſhell- " fiſh, which was the only food he lived on for the firſt five days; when, by accident, he caught a young kid, which very much rejoiced him : but he was at a loſs for fire tº dreſs it; till, having nothing to em- produced fire, he PHILIP QUARLL. the thongs, three or four times doubled together, to ſ r ſole he Spaniards told me, that he was ll inured to that way of life, when he was taken m the iſland, that it was a confiderable time before e could reliſh either . ºššš... ...; --~1. which was dreſſed on board the ſhip. Spaniard an account of the Hermit, to which he paid ºvery great attention. sº < ºš iving refreſhed ourſelves, we ſailed from ter a ſtay of three days only in the bay; it a pretty many goats from the iſland, and , or Indian From thence we ſteered anaorn s, but, in our paſſage, met tournadoes, attended with very h we thought proceeded from their eatin of ſome young ſeals they had cau S- Brazils, and proved very uſ but Jung, for that to PHILIP QUARLL. wont be troubled with the wantons, and play the trick your fifter Juno did. Pray, how does the child do 2 To which ſhe anſwered, It be ver well, but it cry, cry, ver much, great deal. Well, ſays the captain ; but, Diana, I ſent for you on another oc- caſion : do you not remember Mr. Davis, our fur- geon and chaplain Yes, ſays ſhe, me ver well know him; he give me vergret goot ſtuff (meaning a dram): But, ſays the captain, you know, Diana, he was a very good man, and uſed to tell you your duty, and teach you how to ſay your prayers. Yes, ſays ſhe, me ver well remember dat he be ver goot ma R. then, ſaid the captain, Diana, what do you think being made a chriſtian, and chriſtened as we chriſ tians are 2 Me mak chriſtian (ſays ſhe) hou? Why, ſays the captain, you know Mr. Davis taught you o read, and you learned to ſay your prayers: they -fare very good prayers are they not ? to pray to God, Yes, ſays ſhe they be ver goot prayers; me love dem vergret muſh. Well then, ſays the captain, are you willing to be # and do as thoſe prayers learn you to do 2 Yes, ſaid ſhe, me be always ver goot, me be verglad me learn me prayers, me learn more, me tank you. So by the captain’s advice, I read the public baptiſm of thoſe of riper years, and baptized her : ſhe anſwering the queſtions by the inſtructions of the captain; and we chriſtened her by the name of Elizabeth, which was the name of our ſhip. As ſoon as the ceremony was over, the captain ordered Elizabeth to dreſs the child in as decent a manner as ſhe could, and bring it to his cabin; in the mean time we drank the bottle of wine. As ſoon as the child was dreſſed, Elizabeth carried it to the captain, who ſent for Thomas Hig- gins, and told him that Diana was chriſtened, and that s º º * God to bleſs me with life, I will ſee to me (though I am not the father of it), was called Antiope ; and they both went to of Thomas. . . tº: The weather here was extrem PHILIP QUARLL. he himſelf, and the lieutenant, were to ſtand godfa- thers: and that his ſon was to be chriſtened; and de- ſired to know what name ſhould be given to the child; to which he anſwered his own, viz. Thomas. But I never ſaw ſuch an alteration in any man in my life, as I immediately obſerved in him. So ſuddenly it ap- peared, that it ſurpriſed us all. For he, who before was deječted, even to the greateſt degree imaginable, now appeared fully ſatisfied in his mind; and con- ſcience no longer ſeemed to fly in his face ; but he ; full of mirth and jollity. So by the captain’s chriſtened the child in a very decent man- captain and lieutenant ſtood godfathers, izabeth ſtood godmother. When the ceremo- ny was over, the captain ſaid, Tom, as this child was begot on board my ſhip, and I am its godfather, and as it is now a chriſtian, I think it properly .# ſee it rought up in a chriſtian manner, which, i pleaſ, performed * ...&#.3. and not only that, but will take care of it, if it lives during my life, and ſee it well educated. So the captain ordered half a goat, to be roaſted ; and he, the lieutenant, and 1, with Tom and Elizabe t whom he permitted on that occaſion, ſupped table, and were very merry ; which ſo rejoiced £i zabeth, that ſhe, immediately after ſupper, related what had happened to her fellow negro-woman, which and told her, that her ſon was baptized b the aar me; but there were cold dews at night, ery dangerous; for three of our men 62 PHILIP QUARLL. - ... As we ſailed, on the twenty-fifth at night, the ſea very much ſurpriſed us, it ſeeming to be as red as blood; which occaſioned Stephen Jones, who was upon the watch, with ſome others, to call us up ; hey had never ſeen the like before. When we 1e upon deck, we ſuppoſed it to be a great quanti- y of the ſpawn of fiſh ſwimming on the water; it being very fair. Having paſſed the line, we made the Galliapagoes on the fifth of July, where we an- chored about a mile off the ſhore, in a good, ſmooth, g to ſail, we found that our ſhip had runk a leak; ſo that we were obliged to have one nd at the pump continually. Before we had ſailed ºue e wind freſhened upon us, and the ſky sº us, which made us take in our topſails; afterwards we reefed our mainſail and mizen : - -gan to rain, and poured down, º The ſea ſeemed as if it i fire, by the prodigious thunder and a being night, the elements over inary black at north-eaſt, and it mov- PHILIP QUARLL. “s head looked moſt diſmally black, but all around the horizon was as red as blood: the waves, which ſeem- ed to daſh againſt the clouds, by the violence of the wind, ſparkled like lightning, which, together with the thunder, made a terrible noife; at laſt, breakingi upon our deck, it carried away one of our ancho and we durſt not bring our ſhip to the wind, for fear of her foundering : it being dangerous, in a ſtorm, to turn a ſhip backward and forward; ſo we were obliged to lie in the trough of the ſea. But the wind n abating, we obſerved, to our great joy, a Sanct at the top of our ſpindle: theſe C re, good ſigns, when ſeen aloft; but bad o nd denote a great ſtorm, when ſeen on the decks. It is a ſmall glimmering light, like a ſtar, when aloft; but when on the deck, it appears like a glow-worm. It is the opinion of mariners, that it a fort of jelly, incorporated by the wind, rain, ſe pours, and air ; becauſe it is never obſerv in ſtormy weather. We ſailed right before the wind, whic weſt, but were obliged to keep continua till the eighteenth day ; when we ma Labos, about twelve at noon. That ſafe into the harbour, and anchored a thoms water, in clean ground, between iſlands : here we reſolved to careen our ſhip. Ac cordingly, obſerving the time of high water, we put her into a cove, in the ſouthernmoſt iſland, where we hauled her up as far as we could on the land our carpenter and all hands ſet to work the nex º is barren, and without freſh water. F eral ſeals, ſea-lions, boobies, and p wl about as big as a duck, whoſe fl PHILIP QUARLL re found a ſmall black fowl, which makes e ground to rooſt in at night, whoſe fleſh ry good; and a great many vultures and crows. had careened our ſhip, and were in readineſs to il on the twenty-fixth, and ſailed for the iſland Fer- indos, and made the middle bay on the ſeventh of Auguſt, winter being juſt over there ; which conti- nues only for two months, viz. June and July. We have verbal accounts here, of ſeveral men who have been left or caſt away, and have lived ſome time, and very well, on this iſland. Here we mended. men who had been ill on our voyage, ~ ecovered their health ; for the green pimento diffuſed a very agreeabl refreſhing ſmell all e iſland. Here we ſpent ſome time in taking | º lying water up, which od; we alſo boiled a confiderable num- s, of which there are plenty here; we ty of young ſeals, which eat very well; are unwholeſome : and at the ſouth e found ſome goats, of which w y, which were excellent good. Here of turnips and watercreſſes, which made the iſland ºf s ſent our boat on ſhor eople, from the ill. rom the French . . . 3. - PHILIP QUARLL. 65 ly ſharp, and really diſhoneſt ; for if they trade with you, and cannot get the advantage of you which they think you would have of them, they will ſnatch your We weighed anchor on the twentieth, and ſailed from hence round Cape Horn, in 51 degrees 15 mi- nutes lat. as our pilot informed me, I being only a merchant on board, and therefore do not pretend to make a methodical journal, only as I promiſed to give account of the moſt material paſſages in our ge home. w d the cape the weather favoured us extremely, goods, and run away with them. and nothing happened, that was material, only that we were chaſed by a pirate ſhip for about twelve hours, on the twenty-ninth : but the night coming on, it favoured us ſo, that we loſt her. On the fourth of September we made Faulkland’s iſland. Here we ſaw a great number of porpoiſes, which often leaped out of the water, of an uncommon ſort. On the 5th we had the misfortune to have one of our men fall. -- into the ſea, as he was throwing the lead; and he was drowned before we could give him any he We had very briſk gales at ſouth-weſt. We ſailed, and made Cape St. Antonio, near the mouth of the river de la Plata in Paragua, on the twenty-fifth, the wind ſouth by weit ; when we ſtood out to ſea, and made the iſle of Grande, on the coaſt of Brazil, on the twenty-ninth. We got a pilot, who conducted us into the watering-cove, at the inner weſternmoſt point of the iſland. In ſounding as we went in, w hardly met, in any place, with leſs than ten fathom water. The iſland is about nine leagues long, high land near the water-fide ; it abounds with wood, has monkeys, and other wild beaſts; plenty of good tim- % ber, freſh water, and oranges and lemons. §§ ; 66 PHILIP QUARLI. We had pleaſant weather, but extremely hot. We received a letter from our owners, commanding re good punch.) oyage from the Gallia- pagoes, I applied myſelf to the peruſal of my good old man’s memoirs, which I took very great delight in ; and finding the whole ſeries of his minor years attended with ſuch a number of unaccountable acci- dents, hardly to be paralleled, I thought proper deſigned them to be publiſhed on my arrival in land, to digeſt them in a more regular manner t found the % ed nor diminiſhed; nor did I what he himſelf had wrote, life z nec to the accidents of ry : for his abſence from England ſo long as fif- afioned him, in ſome manner, not to inted with the language as it is now by his living without any converſation had made him, in ſome meaſure, for- her-tongue. Though I really think, into confideration, that his account was d his life been publiſhed, as in have appeared very obſolete, , though ever ſo entertaining. ed all the paſſages of his firſt 'gether, and thought proper to § from his hermitical confinement nd, which at firſt fight appeared ſo full of , and nothing but a proſpe&t of the moſt mi- ho me, and not to ſail for New England, as deſigned. we got beef, mutton, hogs, fowls, ſugar, rum, ions (ſo that now we did not want . m wrote in his manuſcript; but neither add- the leaſt vary from l § only I made ſome amendments which I thought art by themſelves, that part of his º PHILIP QUA RLL. § dence, as a ſupporter of the diſtreſſed, but he found almoſt every thing neceſſary for human life on that ſmall iſland; and he, who then thought of nothing but immediately periſhing in the moſt miſerable con- dition, has lived, by the help of divine Providence, in a ſafe and plentifulmanner; and is now ſo inured t unto, that he deſpiſes the populous world, and its vanities; he alſo confiders its pompous glory to be of no more ſubſtance than a ſhadow ; and that there is no felicity on earth, unleſs in ſolitude, . I likewiſe methodiſed his account, during his re- fidence on the iſland, in the former manner; and made another book, or part ; which with this account of my finding him on the iſland, and my conference with him, completes my deſign : ſo that it cannot be called an imperfect deſcription, but complet three books. So I return to my voyage. In our voyage from Juan Fernandos we f large bird, which is called an Alcat ſpread their wings from eight to ten feet w ::::::::::: *% the Brazils is a ſerpent called Liboya, or the Roebuck Serpent, the report of which is incredible (in my opi- nion) but affirmed by ſome of the Portugueſe; vi. drugs. We treated the Portugueſe very civilly, whº ſupplied us with all things neceſſary for our uſe. Dur. sing our ſtay here, there arrived a brigantine laden with negroes, for the golden mines. Here four of our men, died, and ran away from us, the laſt c sh we had juſt occaſion to ful ź 68 PHILIP QUARLL. get enough on their fide to over-power the captain and the party; and agreeing, among themſelves, that it was a very difficult matter to become maſters of the ſhip ; and, befides, confidering the hazard they run, in being puniſhed, after ſuch a ſevere manner as they ſhould be, if found out by any means, before they could accompliſh their deſign, or if they ſhould fail in their attempt; made them rather chuſe to deſert the ſhip, than continue any longer. Though our captain was an extraordinary good man, yet rogues will be always employing their wicked thoughts; and neither clemency nor good uſage can make them per- form their duty in their ſtations. The tenth of Oétober, after having ſet Antiope, one of our negro women, on ſhore, who refuſed to be chriſtened as Diana was, we began to ſail, but kept Elizabeth and Juno on board; the captain reſolving that ſhe ſhould live with him as his ſervant; and by that means would bring up Tom’s child: we did not meet with any thing very remarkable; but after about twenty-four hours eaſy ſail, we paſſed the tro- pic, and next day ſaw land. We ſtood from it ſouth ſouth-weſt, and had cloſe cloudy weather all night, with ſhowers of rain. When day broke, we ſaw Aſ- cenſion iſland, at about a league diſtance; and about nine o'clock we came to an anchor. The ſea is here very deep. The next day we weighed anchor, and failing north north-eaſt, till the ſeventeenth, with a freſh gale at weſt ſouth-weſt, we croſſed the line. The next day an ugly accident happened; for we brought a young bear from Mexico; and our men being often uſed to play with her and teaze her, it proved very fatal to one Thady O’Brien, an Iriſh boy, of about fixteen years of age, who had been fretting the creature with a ſmall rope, which he made a s PHILIP QUARLL. 69 nooſe to, and ſlipped her hind leg into it, and ſo wor- ried her. Her blood growing warm, and ſhe being enraged at his hunting her to and fro on the deck, where he happened to ſlip down; the bear immedi- ately ſeized poor Thady by the neck, with ſuch vio- lence, that, before any body could deliver him from her paws, the poor boy’s throat was tore to pieces; ſo that he died inſtantly, º We ſailed but very ſlowly now, meeting with con- tinual calms, and direéted our courſe for Cape Verde iſlands; but on the twenty-fixth we had a heavy tour- mado, attended with lightning, which fell as if the element had been on fire; but it continued only for a ſhort time: afterwards the weather proved ex- tremely fair, the wind being full ſouth. A ſailor go- ing up to furl the main-top-gallant on º he third of No vember, in the morning ſaw land, and ſuppoſed it to be one of Cape Verde iſlands, bearing ..., diſ- tant about ſeven leagues, ſmooth water, and freſh gales: about four o’clock we bore north north-weſt, and went with an eaſy ſail till day-light, and made the iſland of St. Vincent; when, about nine o’clock, we anchored in th - - where we rode till the next day; and then we went to St. Nicholas, another, and one of the largeſt of th Cape Verdé iſlands. Theſe iſlands are ſo called from Cape Verde in Africa, and are moſtly inhabited by Portugueſe. One of them is called Sal: it derives its name from the prodigious quantity of f * naturally congealed in ſalt ponds. Ther poor goats on this iſland, and ſome wild e bay in about five fathoms water, 7s PHILIP QUARLL. In St. Nicholas we traded with ſome of the Spani- ards for ambergreaſe; but they were fraudulent, hav- ing counterfeited it much. Here are ſome vineyards, and plantations belonging to the Portugueſe ; and wine, much like Madeira, of a pale colour, alſo, and thick. The people are ſwarthy, and the inhabitants live ſcattering in the valleys. While we were at this iſland, we ſcrubbed our ſhip’s bottom, and dug ſome wells on the ſhore, where we got freſh water. Here an ugly accident had like to have happened : for one of our men, going down into the hold with a candle, ſet fire to a bale of cot- ton, which, by his careleſſneſs, had like to have been the loſs of our ſhip: but, (thanks to God) it was diſ- covered, by its ſmother, juſt before it began to blaze out; ſo that by immediate help, we got it extin- sº gº. Yº ſoon after we hoiſted it upon deck, for fear any of the fire ſhould remain, and revive again; and becauſe we would have it in mind, for our ſafety. - - . On the eighth we went to the iſle of Mayo, another of Cape Verde iſlands, but made no ſtay. We ſaw at ſouth-weſt, the iſland del Fuego, which is remarkable for being a Volcano, or burning mountain, out of which iſſue flames of fire; but they are only diſcern. ed in the night, and then are ſeen a great way at ſea: yet there are inhabitants on this iſland (as I have bee inform the Portugueſe of the iſland of St. Nicho- 'd at the foot of the mountain, near the are, alſo, cocoa-nuts, plaintains, goats St. Aritanio, another of the Cape ! is a very large ſpider (as I was irong, that it i Here are, alſo PHILIP QUARLL. 7t pretty near the deck; and the wind blew ſo extreme: blown away. During the ſtorm, it rained e faſt, which continued for about four hours wild aſſes; likewiſe, ſalt-pits, where great quantities of ſalt is naturally made by the fun’s heat; with which they load yearly ſeveral ſhips, and are able to fell much greater quantities than they do, if they had but vent for it. Having diſpatched dur affairs at the Cape Verde iſlands, we weighed with the flood, having a ſmall gale at ſouth ſouth-weſt: on the ſeventeenth it began to blow, and veered to the ſouth-weſt by ſouth. - That evening we ſaw three ſail of ſhips at weſt north- weſt, bearing, as we ſuppoſed, for the Canary iſlands as well as ourſelves. The night coming on, which was extremely clear and fine, we paſſed the tropic about the break of day; ſoon after which we obſerved a north bank lying in the horizon. We then provided for a ſtorm, which thoſe clouds denote. The wind was at north-weſt. We brought the ſhip under our main-ſail and mizen only, and ballaſted our mizen ; but yet the wind and ſeas were too high for us, and every wave ſeemingly threatened to overwhelm us; ſo that we beat up and down with only our bare poles, which we feared would break in upon our deck, which muſt have foundered us, in caſe it had ſo happened : we alſo lowered our main-yard, and fore-yard down a port laſt, as I obſerved the ſailors called it, that i fierce, that we did not dare to looſe an - . w y head-ſail all; for, if we had, they certainly wou ai ve been - -> º º ained exceeding when it to get l changed, and was pretty calm ; and we beg everything in good order. The wind that evening changin, - w - # to ſouth-weſt, about fix the next evening fº iffe, at about nine leagues fiſh and a great deal 72 PHILIP QUARLL. of ſea thiſtle ſwimming. We ſailed all night with a ſmall eaſy gale, and at break of day made the Cana- ries: bearing north-weſt by weſt, about three leagues. We crowded all our ſail, and came to an anchor, in the harbour of Santa Cruz, in the iſland of Teneriffe, on the twenty-firſt, in about thirty fa- thoms water, black ſlimy ground, about half a mile from the ſhore. The land being for the moſt part brettv high, it is very bad going aſhore here in boats 5 iding here are often obliged to put to ſea, or ſlip their anchors, by reaſon the road lies ſo open to the eaſt : ſhips are here ſupplied with good water between the coves, where they generally water. Santa Cruz, a ſmall town fronting the ſea, has two forts to ſecure the road: here ſome Engliſh merchants ide, Their houſes are low and uniform, covered with pantiles. Here are oranges, lemons, and other fruits; alſo, flowers and fallading ; and a great number of pleaſant gardens. At Oratavia, t try is ſo full of riſings and fallings, that fome to walk up and down in it : moſt uſed by them. Here grows Malmſey wine ; here are alſo Cat sm wine; likewiſe, a great m orced to ſlip their cables, p , by reaſon of the winds, PHILip QUARLL 73 grows a tree; which being continually covered with clouds, from its leaves always drop great quantities of excellent water. Theſe Canary iſlands are common- ly the rendezvous of the Spaniſh Weſt-India fleet, where they generally receive orders for unlading their wealth. . From the harbour of Santa Cruz we ſailed, on the twenty-fifth of November, to the Canary iſlands: here the ſoil is ſo hat they have two harveſts in the year. Its c --------- j commodities are honey, wax, ſugar, and the beſt of wines; of which we took in a ſuffi- cient quantity of each : here are, alſo, dragon’s-tree, which produces a red liquor called dragon’s-blood. Theſe iſlands are exceeding wholeſome though they are inclinable to heat. Ž Having taken in the cargo which we deſigned from theſe iſlands, we ſailed from thence on the third of . December for the Madeira iſland, with a fair wind at fouth ſouth-weſt, and ſaw ſeveral ſhips ſailing towards . : the next day at eight in the morning, we ma nd, which was the Madeira, at about four s d came to an anchor: here are § rivers, which refreſh the country. It is a very beautiful iſland, exceedingly fertile, and produces excellent wine, which is very ſtrong. We nchored in the port; which reſembles an half moon, lot far from the town. Near this iſland is another not ſo large as this (which is about fixty leagues i compaſs) called Porto Santo, which affords ſame commodities as Madeira: here we to thirty pipes of Madeira wine; and having ac d our buſineſs, we left that iſland on the tenth, and ailed for the Lizard with a weſterly wind. We gº aſt, and the ſk a stressee º PHILIP qi hard clouds, very thick, one by another which we imagined an approaching ſtorm : accordingly, we pro- vided for it, by reeving our top-ſails, and took in our ſails as faſt as poſſible. The wind began to blow very briſk gale, and ſoon after the ſtorm began, the wind ſtill increaſed by ſqualls of rain and hail, which came very thick, and faſt, and the ſea ran very high; ſo that we were obliged to run before the wind. We hipped little or t h ſome waſhed into er deck; and the waves a dol- phin was caſt thereon. blew very hard, but about eight hours aſ ated its fierceneſs, and then veered to the and the foul weather broke up, and we had ſmaller gales, with ſome calms, and fair weather. On the eighteenth the wind veer- ed to ſouth ſouth-eaſt, which continued a briſk gale till the twenty-ninth, and we kept right before wind and ſea, the wind ſtill increaſing ; and we made the Lizard on the twenty-ſeventh, at about t ºut 8. and ſtood in for the land, and came to a ~ - º as I pro ai 3:32: o any bod # readers THE An account of the birth and education of Philip Quarll ; as alſo, the moſt ſurpriſing tranſacti of his life, from his infancy to his being caſt º away. ; : * : *... . . . . . . . om the memoirs he gave to Mr. Edward perſon who found him on the PHILIP QUARLL was bor St. Giles, in the year 1647. Quarll, formerly a maſter-buil himſelfi 76. PHILIP Q. ſhe and her poor yoke ere drudging to get him bread) to commit him to the care of one kind neighbour or another, for a ſmall confideration, till he could prattle, and go alone ; at which time ſhe him to ſchool to a good old almſwoman, where ontinued till he was fix years old. One day a neighbour who formerly had the care of the child in his mother's abſence, having contract- ed particular love for him, being a very pretty child; finding him, after ſchool time, fitting at his father’s door, takes him by the hand, and leads him to his mother, then at work, at an old lady’s houſe in Great- Ruſſel-ſtreet. The houſekeeper, who was naturally fond of chil- dren, ſeeing this pretty child, takes him up in her ns and runs to her good old lady, who had juſt ded her cuſtomary private devotion. The child, whom the poor woman kept very neat , and clean, beyond what could be expected out of her ſmall gettings, was naturally very handſome ; being tall of his age, and well ſhaped; his features regular, and well-proportioned; his complexion fair; his hair long and curling; his countenance mild, and ſpright- ly; his behaviour gentle and eaſy; all which qualifi- cations rendered him completely amiable, and made : old lady ive an inclination for him uncom- for a ſ r’s child, eſpecially of ſo mean a him, ſhe wiſhed he had y creature, though no kin to me by birth 2 land ſuitable to my inclination, has, by a related to me. Hi PHILIP QUARLL. ſhe could not refuſe; now I will give him education, the principal and moſt neceſſary care by which real love can be expreſſed to a child. So, having given orders that a good ſchool might be inquired after, ſhe put him to board to a maſter whoſe commendable charašter of inſtructing his ſcho- lars, in their duty to God and man, as well as in li- terature, had procured him a confiderable number of children of the beſt families. There ſhe intended to have kept him till he was, by years and learnin la- lified for ſome genteel trade, intending to leave him in her will, forty pounds, to ſet him up, when out, of his time. -> * . . . . ; But now ill fate begins to ſhow its averſeneſs to poor Phil.’s happineſs : the worthy lady di |- denly, and was interred a few days after, to his . ſpeakable prejudice, and threatening ruin. But watchful Providence, who had decreed him good, averted the apparent evil, and only permitted ſome § n to her purpoſes, the better to raiſe his er ſucceeding favours, when ſenſible of conceived a particular love for noh docility, and extraordi- his ſcho ing) was ver ing to 78 IILIP QUARLL. wither away for want of cultivation. Thus having pondered awhile, love and charity, after a long ſtruggle with intereſt, gained the vićtory; the old man concludes to give him his learning, if his rela- tions would only find him in board and other me- ceſſaries. … w This being concluded upon by both parties, Phil. continued to go to ſchool for the ſpace of four years longer; during which time, he made himſelf a com- plete maſter of the grammar, writing, and arithme- tic ; he alſo made a vaſt improvement in finging, having all that time been taught by a maſter, who at- tended ſome boarders three times a week; who, find- ing an extraordinary voice, and natural diſpoſition, 2. oy, took a fancy to teach him : ſo that Phil. me reſpects, qualified to attend the ſchool, ature of uſher, had his age permitted it. But as yet too young to keep the ſcholars in awe, ich is neceſſary in a ſchool, the maſter only gave him his board, till the elder ſcholars left off and he was grown bigger ; intending then to allow him a ſuf- ency to maintain himſelf, as others do in that ſtation. utill fate ſtill attends the boy: the good old an died in leſs than a twe th, and was ſuc- seeded by a ſuperannuate ‘miſt miniſter ; - -, -º-º-º: ſchool as his prede- ant: ſo Phil. was his poor mother Poor Phil, who had conceived a notion that there is a ſervitude and hardſhip entailed upon that ſtation, was very loath to reſolve upon entering into it; but as he was a very diſcreet boy, not inclined to play, as children commonly are, and ſeeing that there was 2. a neceſſity for him to reſolve upon ſomething ; to make his choice the more eaſy, he conſults the maſ- ters’ nature and temper, rather than the goodneſs and profitableneſs of the trade: and as there lived in the neighbourhood a lockſmith, ever fince he was born, who being great with his father, would often play with him, when a child, and now and then give him farthings to buy fruit; he choſe to be bound to him ; which was done in about a month’s time. - They both agreed wonderfully well, th % ing very kind and good-natured, and gent and careful ; ſo that thoſe fears of meetin hardſhips being diſperſed, he cheerfully w without thinking the time tedious. But this ha neſs though ſlight, is but of a ſhort laſting ; for the poor man, having been bound for a relation, who failed, had all his effects ſeized upon, and hi thrown into goal; and poor P in was obliged to come to his moth This accident was a vaſt diſ boy’s learning his trade, he bei his unfortunate maſter begging no other ; hoping every day to n and carry on buſineſ: want of employment, wo with neighbours’ children. One day, as he was playing at ce of his art. The ſpoke him of no confi- n to hope that he might g ſtopt a while, he took the being hot with running at a pump hard by. He g, Do you mean to kill rink cold water now when with me, and I will give º: you ſhall only go a ſhort maſter the innocent boy nd if it’s not too far : b ad, not being uſed to ſtrong he, he fell aſleep on the bench e door upon him and not to awake him, home, having ſlept till it was dark, being afraid to anger his relations by ſtaying out late, contrary to his cuſtom, being uſed to orderly hours, and would have gone away, had not Turner, whoſe projects would have been quite unhinged, uſed all the devices he was maſter of to perſuade É. ... Firſt he beſpeaks a ſupper of that which the liked beſt, who fince his being come from the boarding-ſchool, had been uſed to none but coarſe meat, his poor parent’s ability affording no better: then, to divert away the time he intended to prolong till his opportunity ſuited, he told him ſeveral ſtories, and, moſt particularly, that of his pretended uncle’s unkindneſs to lock him out of doors, and of his cunning invention to get in at own time and unknown to him; but that afraid he muſt be forced to lie o would be his death, being not uſed to ſuc The poor tender-hearted boy, who could ſcarce for- bear crying, whilſt he related this diſmal ſtory of his uncle’s unkind uſage, aſked him what was the matter he could not get in that night as well as at other times 2 Becauſe, replied the ſly knave, the boy that uſed to let me in is fick of the ſmall-pox, a I have heard fince you fell aſleep. What! you get ſomebody elſe? ſaid fimple Phil. I do that for you, if I could tell own home; for my mothel being obliged to anſwered the ſubt # * to ſtay. having re- left countenance, repri- of being drawn into bad o be more cautious for jeopardy, at by gained the : for wh ing no probability of £º ſtation he was e reſolved upon g wanting for that employment neither charaćter nor recommendation, which he was ſenſible would be a hard matter to get, by reaſon of this moſt fatal accident." Thus having imparted his deſign to his loving mo- ther, who, with much reluctance, acquieſced in his going from her, and leaving his native country, where ſhe once had hopes to ſet well ſettled; ſh with weeping eyes, impl ºrh - and receive him into his proteć acquainted with no one that co him in that matter, ſh there, ſaid ſhe, you m who perhaps m dear child, all ou for : in The ge d cou n mother, and then to come home to him, at the ſign of the Black-Boy, near the Iron Gate; that he need bring no clothes with him, for he would provide every thing neceſſary for the voyage. - -- The overjoyed boy, having told his mother of his extraordinary ſucceſs, gave her the money, being in great haſte to return to his new maſter: ſo having embraced his tender mother, and ſhe her dear ſon, weeping over one another for ſome time, he leaves her at work. º º º º - The good woman, though ſhe had all the reaſon in the world to be eaſy in her mind, that the boy was out of thoſe temptations which great want, and bad company, might lead him into, could not be recon- led at his going fr r; but ſeeing no remedy, ſhe 3 cr fter him, accompanied with crow s of pr wers of tears re had bee him clothes and linen him a new cap-a-pee; a few days after ſet ſail Phil, whoſe agreeable aſpećt m the love of the ſhip's crew, man at t urned n learned PHILIP QUARLL. 85 ble of, whom he had often diverted with his finging during that voyage, allowed him ſailor’s pay the fol- lowing voyage, which was ſoon after : for in leſs than three weeks time the ſhip was new laden, and ſet out again for the ſame place, and was gone as long as be- fore ; at the end whereof it returned home richly laden, and in a ſhorter time than was common : which being put in the news, as uſual, prompted a certain number of Drury-lane nymphs to go down to the place where they heard the ſhip was arrived ; ſuppoſ- ing that the luſty ſailors, having a long time been con- fined to ſalt meat, would, at their arrival, being fluſh of money, purchaſe a bit of freſh at any rate. Being come to Gravefend, where the ſhip lay, t found according to cuſtom, the jolly crew in houſe, ſpending like aſſes, what they had ea horſes, even before they had received it. At the ladies coming, the elevated ſailors, who h been ſailing on ſalt water for the ſpace of three year. and fince ſet their brains floating in ſtrong drink, for fix hours, having loſt the rudder of their reaſon, ran headlong upon thoſe quick-ſands, where moſt of them loſt all they had, before they could get o The ingenious ladies, who had neſty, improved the abſence of th and, being very expert in the art º fell to examining the depth hallow-ora § fellow’s pockets; which finding very low, they were much diſheartened from going on, for fear of running aground. But, underſtanding that their ſhip had not yet been cleared, they caſt their anchor there, waiting for a freſh gale. 86 PHILIP QUARLL. ful Phil. behind: who, being a ſtranger to the game they were going to play at, did not dare to take a artner: but croſs fate ſtill attending him, a ſnare is laid in which he muſt fall. Every man but modeſt Quarll, being gone away with a wench ; one, being ſupernumerary, ſtayed behind. The crafty creature, who, from her firſt coming in, had fixed on the innocent young man for her quarry, kept at ſome diſtance from her comrades; waiting their abſence, to work her deſign. * * * Unthinking Phil. having no ſuſpicion of her cun- attacks, ſtood no longer fiege, but capitulated at the rſt ſummons. It is true, ſhe was provided with § illery, as no fortifications againſt love could sº ; \ u - rce the moſt ſtubborn to or at leaſt parley, which is a forerunner * , º º im, as being the firſt battering- the ſex plants, when hey p a breach in sheart; ſhe charges - y of engaging words, whilſt her looks º, having fixed her baſiliſk' 8 eyes upon h # ſuch prevailing terms, as no mony; which ; the chaplain of PHILIP QUARLL. 87 ed with their miſtreſſes, and had diſmiſſed them with rough uſage, and ill language, of which threy gene- rally are fluſh, when money is ſcant. The diſappointed wretches, ſeeing no redreſs for their treatment lately received, which they well knew roceeded from want of money, concluded upon ſtay- ing in that place till their ſhip was cleared; by which time their appetite being ſharpened again, and they fluſh of money, and hoping they ºº: chaps; they took a garret in a º ſhop, where they made ſhift to kennel together, and live upon ſhort commons. , , Our new-married couple, whoſe money was but ſcanty, were alſo obliged to put up with indifferent quarters; but the hopes of receiving the poor huſ- band’s pay ſoon, and withal, the thoughts of be ed from a goal, which ſhe was in dange married, being the principal advantage ſhe p ed to herſelf by having a huſband, it made her now eaſy. But ſhe, and all the reſt of her compani- ons, were diſappointed. The ſhip being unladen, the cargo proved damaged, by the leaking of the veſſel, which is commonly made good by the ſailors: ſo that, inſtead of three year’s wages being due, the poor men ſ - § | pockets, and the latter to ſeek for cu their extravagance, and to º ho during the voyage, had ſaved a hich his maſter gave #. at fundry at the ſea, by the late accid fortune in another me 88 PHILIP QUARLL. His crafty wife, who was, by her marriage, ſcreen- ed from her creditors, depending upon her former occupation, indulged him in that reſolution ; ſo they ſet out with that little he had and arrived pretty bare. Finding no friends in London, his maſter being dead whilſt he was at ſea, he reſolves to enliſt in the foot- guards for bread, having no other dependance ; ſo conſults with his ſpouſe about a lodging, till he had s: § or him. She, indeed, was beſt town, and knew of ſeveral that r ſtock and ſtation, but durſt go to none, having bilked moſt of them, and left a ſcore with the reſt. But lodging muſt be had before night; and the day was far ſpent; which ſet her a thinking, neceſſity being the mother of invention: and ſhe, as is peculiar to women of her employment, being well ac- quainted with it, was no ſtranger to ſhifts; and pre- ſently finds one, ~ i - Having pondered for a ſhort time, ſhe concludes upon going to her laſt lodgings ; where though ſhe was confiderably in debt, ſhe queſtioned not but ſhe ſhould ſtill find a kind reception, and that her land- lady, where ſhe had been about a fortnight, having #". over her debt, would at her coming ſlacken the ill opinion ſhe had conceived of her, and afford her kind uſage; ſo, having fixed a rendezvous for her huſband, ſhe haſtens there; where ſhe found, as was expected, the old woman as overjoyed as fur- o ſee her; and much more, when ſhe under- ſhe was married to a ſailor, lately arrived from e year's voyage ; who in a ſhort time, would tred, and that then ſhe would rub off her ſcore. ld . n thinking herſelf ſecure of her debt, PHILIP QUARLL. 89. lodgings but in her houſe; that ſhe would make every thing as eaſy and convenient as ſhe ſhould deſire; be- ing as welcome to ſcore, as with ready money. The ſubtle woman having gained her ends, goes and fetches her hu , whom the over-reached d woman receives moſt kindly, expreſ ºšj. a quartern of all-fours, the chief con b & houſe; that being drank, was ſucce cond, at the new tenant’s coſt; whic with a cheerful welcome to as many as encouraged the coming in of half a do theſe warmed the company, and particularl landlady; who having greeted Quarll for hi iage, over and over, fell upon pi fe, whom ſhe had known for a long time; er all the encomiums that virtue itſelf cou his manner they lived about a fortnight, ſtill on ſcore, which increaſed very faſt, and no prof- : of money, it obliged the landlady to put them hind ; often aſking when they expected the ſhip e c d. Quarll, who diſcerned, by the cloud appeared over her brow, a th ning ſtorm of an harbour, . fate, a go º PHILIP QUARLL. One day that he mounted guard out of his turn, being upon duty at the Park-gate, next to Chelſea, about ten at night, the place being clear of people, he fell a finging to divert melancholy thoughts, which ſolitude is apt to indulge : at that time hap- pened to come by a colonel of the ſame regiment, who, being merrily diſpoſed, ſtopped for ſeveral mo- ments to hear him fing: Quarll, having made an end g, fell a whiſtling the tune; at which the ame to him, ſaying, How can you profane ſuch a fine tune with whiſtling, when you can fing it ſo well ? pray let me hear you do it once more, and grace it with that good voice nature has given you. Quarll, having made ſome few modeſt excuſes, yields to his preſſing ſolicitations, and ſings the ...; over again, and with more care than before; which ſo pleaſed the gentleman, that he ſtood half with him aſking him queſtions : and being by formed whoſe company he belonged to, having conſent to be exchanged, he gives him five ſhillings to drink his health ; and charges him to come to him, at the Mitre tavern, at Charing-croſs, the next day eight of the cloc § and aſk for colo- II. - y went to the appointed; where he finds the co- º - with more civility and cor ſance 1 is commonly paid to men of his coat: defired him to fit down amongſt them, a w bing round once or twice, the colonel having his finging to the company, he was deſired he ſung to the colonel the night before ſhot told the gentlemen, he wi with half a ſcore more gentlemen, PHILIP QUARLL. 91 his ſkill and voice, deſerved the honour of their hearing, and that he would do the beſt he could ; having, at their requeſt, drank another glaſs, he fung the ſong they deſired, to their great ſatisfaction and applauſe. . After a ſhort ſpace of time was ſpent in the praiſe of finging, and a talk of what an engaging accom- pliſhment it is, either in man or woman ; ſome of the company, holding that the charms of muſic are nº wife inferior to the power of love; it occaſioned a very agreeable debate, there being in the company a gentleman unfortunately under that circumſtance, who would give love the ſupremacy over all that can affect our minds : ſeeing that it ſtrips a man of the benefits of his own ſenſes, of the ſtrength of his reaſon, and foundneſs of judgment. No obječt is fair, but that whoſe idea hath impreſſed the mind; no harmony he it in the beloved voice, or that which founds its praiſe; dainties have no favour in the abſence of that which every thing reliſhes; the faireſt days are but dull, if not enlivened by the light of the charn er's preſence. :: . . .33% Thus he run on, till the company, perce was beginning to be uneaſy, deſired Quarl % entleman a love-ſong, who ſpoke ſo mu ; which he did, and pleaſed the lover ſo e the made him a preſent of half-a-guir tleman, who was altogether for muſic, h ked Quarll whether he had any thing in t of it, having alſo his requeſt anſwered ; ma f the company crave a ſong in the com ited their inclinations; ſom 3. PHILIP QUARLL. which being over, the company who had been ſo well diverted with Quarll's ſinging, conſulted together to do him ſervice: and as he was well qualifie teach, they propoſed to recommend him ſch A gentleman in compan ing a fifter who in ed to learn, he writes a letter to her, defiring would make uſe of no other maſter; which letter was to carry the next morning : and as his regi tal clothes might leſſen her opinion of his meri bids him, before he goes, to call at his lodgings, and he would preſent him with a ſuit of clothes, which he wore but part of laſt ſummer, and therefore little the worſe for wearing. And, as he wanted but an hat to be completely dreſſed (having an extraord j of hair) another gentleman bid call on him for one; ſo that he had all he wante The gentleman having given him direéti go for the things, and the colonel his pron et him diſcharged out of the company he did at leaſt, to have him, exchanged into unexpected but lucky adventure, lik Irpriſe unframed his reaſon, and makes ing happineſs. Thus tranſported fore, and in a fair ećt o ſelf; he haſtens home, and in his n which he ought not to be ſeen there, obnoxious to moſt, and more eſpecia His landlady, who, till the xpect her money, thinkingh PHILIP QUARLL. 93. being diſcharged, to go another voyage ; ſeeing him in that hope-killing dreſs, gave a ſhriek as if ſhe had ſeen the devil: ſlanders and abuſes, ſtriving for utterance, crowd in her foaming mouth ; and, like a id torrent, which, running from a large extent ſwells, and overflows its ks ; ſo her paſſions finding her mouth too ſmall a paſſage, breaks out through her eyes: thus, hav- ing ſhrieked out and roared awhile, which occa- fioned all her lodgers to come down, ſhe charges poor aſtoniſhed Quarll with ſhoals of abuſes, in the vileſt and moſt inſulting terms that the moſt inveterate ma- lice can expreſs. . Thus having exhauſted her ſtock of ſlanders, her tongue having uttered all the evil ſhe could, ſhe ſet her miſchievous hands to work upon his wife ; who being come to ſee the occaſion of her ſhrieking, ſtood like ereft of her ſenſes: ſo having torn her head-clothes off her head, with words' ſuitable to the barbarous deeds, ſhe thruſt them both out of doors; which, though the rudeſt ačtion that could denote , the ºn. of her intended revenge, was to them, at that time, the kindeſt act ſhe could form. à That unexpe&ted treatment was no ſmall check to Quarll's cheerful diſpoſition, but having confidered, that one time or other he muſt have ſtood the ſhock, rejoic º . it is over ; and, being free from the are of getting her paid, he has at that time nothing to think of but to find another lodging; which being th late to go about, he concludes to wait for morning at a certain cellar at Charing-croſs, which is open all night. Going along, ſhe mildly blamed him. for § 3. . dviſed coming in that dreſs, which, he e, could produce no better effect. To 94. PHILIP QUARLL. º which he anſwered, he never could have wiſhed for better: for, by her turning him out of doors, ſhe had paid herſelf: which he would have done, had he ſtaid : but now he was come away, being provided, and in a bette he would have lodgings; ſo told her of the adventure, which much rejoiced her; and from that time made her reſolve to forſake her former way of living, which misfortunes only drove her to, being not .# by evi º as many are. The morning being c went to ſeek for lodgings, he went for was promiſed the evening before, which fitted if made on purpoſe, and made him appear as one of evil inclination, . whi ſt º the genteel employment he was recommended for. Being new ſhaved and powdered, he went with the letter, according to order; and was received ſuitab to the recommendation given him. up, made him drink chocolate with -----> . avi is with him for a $ aving required a ſong, ſhe agr guinea a month, the uſual rate, and at entrance, as is common ; ſo beg nea unes. Thus joyfully here he had ſpent the night d appointed to meet his wife, .*.*.*. rter of an hour, hoping ſhe haſ PHILIP QUARLL. 95 him in ſo different a garb from that which ſhe left him in : which he perceiving, comes up to her, and takes her by the hand, going to aſk her the ſucceſs of her walk : but ſhe, putting it out of his power, in an angry manner, bidding him go about his buſi- w having none with her, preventing his ſpeaking. His filence, which ſhe took to proceed from . neſs, occaſioned her looking . in the face ; in which diſcovering her dear huſband’s features to * * º handſomeneſs, his genteel clothes were n, ſhe was ſeized with ſuch a ſurpriſe, r ſpeechleſs for ſome minutes. , diſcerning her diſorder by the fading of her freſh complexion, was as much ſurpriſed as ſhe. Thus trembling, he takes her in his arms: my dear, ſaid lat’s the matter? are you not well ? Having ł her ſpeech, ſhe embraced him, ſaying, how , when my dear heart and ſoul app. words, and the return kindled love's fire in his hea ałł ardly can º his new Thus, giving her a kifs, My love, ſ got me a lodging 2 Yes, my dear, f wife; you ſhall ever dwell in my heart. to lie in your arms, anſwered he ; th e here. Well, then ſaid ſhe, I hav 3|a. io having each of them 96. PHILIP QUARLL. ſhe cavils with time for flying too faſt. Whole days and nights are too ſhort for her to behold her dear. She continually bears his image in her heart, and wiſhes ſhe could for ever have him in her arms; which from that time ſhe conſecrates to chaſte embraces; devoting herſelf wholly to the diligent aſſiduous prac- tice of the neceſſary qualifications in a wife, to render a huſband truly happy: the execution of which wiſe and virtuous reſolutions, gained her the º and fincere love and affection a really can ſhow or expreſs to a darling wife. They lived in that truly happy ſtate abº year; at the end of which, cruel fate, envious of his uncommon happineſs, moſt barbarouſly robs him of it, almoſt as ſoon as he had favoured its incomparable and matchleſs ſweets. One ſummer morning, loving and truly knowing her º delighted in flo eens, went to Covent-Garden, in order to buy ſo armiſh her windows and chimney, being the only g wanting to complete the neatneſs of which ſhe kept in the greateſt order. ng, ſhe moſt unfortunately met with the per- night, who deceived her out of her virtue, : rith whom ſhe had lived a confiderable time, in expectation of his fulfilling the promiſe he made her when ſhe put him in poſſeſſion of her maiden treaſure; ho being glutted with his ſacrilegious theft, moſt afely and ungratefully left her deſtitute. Fain would ſhe have ſhunned the fatal principal and origin of her paſt misfortunes, and helliſh motive of her late evil life, ſhe mortally abhorred, and zealouſly re- nounced; but inexorable fate has decreed her ruin ; oid him, he oo near before ſhe PHILIP QUARLL. 9. perceived him, and had hold of her hand, ere ſhe could ſhift it out of his way. ". Being thus ſuddenly ſtopped by him, ſhe would have embraced the ſevereſt death, to avoid the vile ſeducer, by whom her innocence was firſt betrayed. The irreconcileable antipathy ſhe had conceived for the mortal enemy of her newly-retrieved virtue, being ſtartled at his terrifying appearance, ſet her whole lty in an uproar, and ſcares away her ſenſes; not word left her to expreſs her trouble. , - s knight, whoſe late love for the fair Sally, fe regular living had repaired thoſe charms her former lewd life had .# much damaged) was revived, and grown more paſſionate than ever, tering his hopes with the thoughts, that her preſent diſorder proceeded from joy and ſurpriſe, took the ortunity of an empty hackney-coach, which was º sy, to bring her to his lodgings: ſo, : ſtopped it, he puts in the poor diſpirited woma together inſenſible of what was done, or deſig , with the ſhaking of the coach tle ſpirit, and finding herſelf ſo m power, as aimed at her total ruin, ſhe g ºfhriek which occaſioned the coach to be fl ome people who were going by, but his he . ..", her ...'...." - buſe till ſhe was entirely recovered, repr langer of expoſing herſelf by oppoſi tion, being then near a ſtreet had lived together a confiderable ſure pacified her; ſo "... h *.*. people wh 9s PHILIP QUARLL. with all the marks of paſſionate love, ſwearing over and over, he was her ſlave for ever ; and that now Rind fortune brought them together, none but death ſhould ſever him from the perſon he loved ſo dear; and that he would expire in thoſe ſoft arms, which often gave him life. Theſe fond expreſſions which ſhe formerly had gi- ven credit to, are now upbraidings and reproaches for her too eaſy credulity, and only increaſed h red t for the deluder; which, at that time ght proper to conceal : thus, reſtraining h n, ſhe aſſumes a feigned calmneſs, and mildly returns him thanks for his love, which he cannot indulge, being married. Married 1 ſaid he, and I living ! was not you mine : I was indeed, replied ſhe, bluſhing with anger and ſhame. But what was I? I tremble to think on it. Why, ſaid he, my love and heart's de- light, and ſhall be, whilſt breath keeps it in motion. Oh! falſe man, ſaid ſhe, weeping moſt bitterly, re- at not thoſe deluding words, which betrayed my Come, ſaid he, ceaſe that flood which over- ny ſoul with the bittereſt of ſorrows, and re- e moſt penitent of men from the crueleſt of : my ſubmiſſive obſervance of your inclina- all henceforth atone for all paſt given diſplea- Mean you, ſaid ſhe, as you ſpeak 2 by all ſacred, I do, replied he. Then, ſaid Sally, joy- º, ſet me down here, and I’ll forgive what’s paſt. No, my dear, this being a requeſt I cannot in hot ant, I may, without breach of promiſe refuſe; ſt ſee you quite re-eſtabliſhed firſt. By this time the coach was arrived to the directed place, which proved to be an houſe where ſhe had laſt ºved with the knight ; which being open, and the PHILIP QUARLL. 99 landlady at the door, obliged her to go in without *reſiſtance, fearing it would be no uſe, but rather pre- judicial to her deſign : ſo ſhe quietly went in, hop- ing ſhe ſhould have a better opportunity to get away, after ſhe had made the landlady underſtand that ſhe was married. But the ſordid wretch, hoping the knight would lodge there again, who proved an ex- traordinary beneficial lodger before, went out of the room, and left her to his pleaſure. & , Po, y, ſeeing herſelf at the point of being a ind time undone, there being no one to affiſt her within, nor hopes of any help from abroad, the room ſhe was in being backwards, next to large gardens, and diſtant from the houſe, and iºr. o hearing ; gives herſelf up to deſpair, ſeeking the portunity of laying hold of his ſword, on which ſhe was reſolved to fall, rather than yield to his adulter- ous deſires. Thus, whilſt the knight was labouring to expreſs the height of his love, by the moſt endear- ing terms, and prevailing words, the moſt paſſionate lover could invent; ſhe, of a ſudden, ſnatche . ſword from his fide, and turned the point thereof wards her breaſt, in order to execute her though virtuous reſolution. What do you he, laying hold of her arm. To get myſelf at ſaid ſhe, which you baſely refuſe : ſo falls intº lent fit, which laſted ſome minutes; which wasn er over, but it was ſucceeded by another, and for the ſpace of three hours; at the end of which ſhe was ſo faint and weak, that her life was deſpaired of, and ſo continued all day : which made the knig . p 3& kni repent that he had forced her to ſtay, ſo m gainſt her will; heartily wiſhing that he knew where that he might ſend her home; which ſhe ico PHILIP QUARLL. being not well enough to tell, the landlady, by the knight’s order, got the beſt room in the houſe fitted up for her ; and the bed being warmed, ſhe was carefully laid in it, and a doćtor ſent for; who hav- ing felt her diſordered pulſe, ſaid, her indiſpoſition proceeded from paſſion and grief; and ordered that ſhe ſhould be let blood, which would give her op- ; ::::::::... …?. w preſent relief. The phyſician was an no ſooner gone, but the ſurgeon was ſent f & 2 . form the doćtor's orders, which gave h eaſe, and in a little time cauſed her to laſted all the night. 3& &. ... , 3 This great and ſudden amendment much rejoiced afflićted knight, who made a vow not to e was reſtored to her wonted health ; night. . . . . . . . . , Sally, whoſe good night’s reſt. ure recovered both ſtrength and in a ſtrange bed, and from he ſe, which did ! ſaid ſhe, by re! what fiends could ra- pouſe's arms Then ſeeing bed-fide, ſhe gives a loud er ſaid ſhe, is it then by iſh ſtratagems that I am aga wer at which ſhe fell into —No, moſt virt • PHILIP QUARLL. IOI by heightening her grief. Oh! ſaid ſhe, with a freſh ſhower of tears, how can I now look my dear huſ- band in the face, when my very juſtification turns to my ſhame 2 The knight, who was in as great a conſternation as ſhe could be in, takes her hand, which lay motion- leſs out of the bed, and, bathing it with tears, begs her to forbear terrifying his moſt penitent ſoul, pro- mifing to rectify all paſt wrongs : you remember, my life, ſaid he, the vows I made when firſt you gave yourſelf to me: I renew them now, and would fulfil them, but that it would expoſe you to the rigour of the law : therefore I will only, for the preſent, ſettle five hundred pounds a year upon you for your till, by your huſband’s death, I am empowered to make you lawful miſtreſs of all my eſtate. Pray, com- poſe yourſelf, and ſedately confider on it, and, when 'tis come to a concluſion, I will attend for your an- ſwer: ſo withdrew for awhile. 3. This generous offer, expreſſing the fincerity of his love, for whom ſhe had formerly more than a common eſteem, in a great meaſure appeaſed her paſ offered atonement diſarms her revenge ; pleads for him ſhe had condemned, and blam ſelf for the crimes ſhe had charged him with. could I, ſaid ſhe, think my virtue ſafe in his on whom love has ſuch an aſcendant (which is itſel guilty of as many faults as it covers ?) if he went away with my heart, it was but a breach of truſt : beſides, his abſence was no flight, it being occaſioned by buſineſs. Having made theſe reconcileable reflections, and being at the point of accepting his offer, conſcience ſtarts, an ofes her reſolution: her huſband ſtands in the way, rigged in al, thoſe engaging qualifica- 19, . PHILIP QUARLL. # tions which had won her affection. This coming into her mind, in a manner ſcares away her reaſon; ſhe cannot help loving both : her love for the knight pleads ſeniority, and that for her huſband juſtice. The firſt is attended with intereſt, the laſt is prompt- !--------. le debate is great, and both their : reaſon is called to decide the mat- , which (as it is her cuſtom) ſedately ighed the cauſe, examined both accidents and in- cidents, at laſt ſeems inclinable to favour the love for the knight; but juſtice, who is always in th . will not refign it: peace and content, the only mo- sworth contending for, muſt be conſulted. They, being alſo cautious of giving a raſh verdićt, examin- ed on which ſide they were in moſt ſafety: and, find- ing themſelves moſt ſcreened from upbraidings and reproaches (their mortal enemies for the knight) gas it on his fide. So juſtice, who ſeldom gets its du is forced to drop the cauſe, and tacitly withdrew. - le knight’s offer, being the ſofteſt choice for an d quiet life, which ſhe could not reaſonably m her huſband doubtleſs would, from :cident, conceive an ill opinion of her vir- sh although at that time blameleſs, ſhe ity vindicate) having ſent for the to him after this manner: %. reaſon to repent my being too many vexations it had occaſioned ld I upon the bare repeating of expoſe myſelf to the ſame, you ; but blame me. Indeed, dear Sally, it interrupting her, I own you have ſuf- - 3. ity; but I will this # r a lawyer, * º - a : *. jº PHILIP QUARLL. i. ders that a mercer ſhould be fetched for her, to ta. her choice of the moſt modiſh filks, and then for a filk night-gown, for her to wear till her clothes were made; as alſo for all manner of linen, ſhoes, and ſtockings. Then having new rigged her from top to toe, now, ſaid he, my dear, you are entirely #. me directions that I may ſend your hu he can challenge as his own ; ſo writes letter : Left the abſence of her, who unthinkingly gave herſelf to you for a wife (though not at her own diſ- poſal, being mine before) ſhould cauſe you any ther trouble, theſe are to ſatisfy you, that I hav retaken poſſeſſion of my own; ſo ſend you back her lothes, as being all you can claim a right to. w - I am yours, a Having ſealed up the letter, and bundled, clothes, a porter was called, to whom orders given, to carry the bundle and letter, to the moſt perplexed and concerned Quarll, who ſpent the night in unſpeakable torment. A thouſand diſmal acci- racks for his tortured ſoul. He tumbles on his like an unmaſted ſhip toſſed about by a violent ſtorm, curſing the tedious hours for creeping thus in the dark night; taxing the ſun with ſloth, an with unkindneſs. Thus, like one bereft o and quite void of reaſon, he ſnar re, PHILIP QUARLL. forth its dawn, to proclaim its approach, he ſtarts from off the bed whereon he lay as if upon thorns, and like a madman, runs about to inform himſelf of what he dreads, more than death, to know. But, having ſpent ſeveral hours in diligent inquiry after lately befallen accidents, without hearing of any ; jealouſy creeps in, which in ſome meaſure removes his former fears, but nowife leſſens his pains he returns home as much racked as before. . Being arrived, he finds on his table a bundle, and a letter, which his landlady told him were brought by a porter. His impatience to know the contents of :h were equal; but the bundle being more ſurpriſing o him, he precipitately opens it firſt ; which finding it to be every individual part of the clothes his wife had on the day before, when ſhe went out; with the ſurpriſe, he lets it drop out of his hands, and, like one thunderſtruck, remained ſpeechleſs for ſeveral minutes. Then fetching a deep and heavy figh, at- tended with a ſhower of tears, he bitterly exclaims againſt himſelf for queſtioning the faithfulneſs of that love, of which he has now ſuch fatal proof. Thus, concluding ſhe had drowned herſelf, and that the letter would inform him of the cauſe there- of : he takes it up, ſaying, O that thou hadſt been a timely forerunner of the fatal tidings thou art bearer of yet, for her dear ſake that wrote it, I will peruſe thee, though thy contents be but racks for me, and the moſt cruel tortures that ever were or can be invented. . But great was his ſurpriſe, when he found it to come from a man ; and inexpreſſible his confuſion at the contents : his ſenſes are all in an uproar; he s his eyes for not ſeeing right; his apprehenſion ing; his blind love taxes his PHILIP QUARLL. Io; reaſon with raſhneſs, the miſtaken expreſſions being but illuſions proceeding from an oppreſſion upon the intelle&ts : ſo lays down the letter till his diſturbed mind was better ſettled. Yet he cannot be eaſy ; he muſt, with ſome other writing, try whether his eyes are ſtill defective : on which, finding no fault, he haſtily takes up the letter again; but alas! it was the ſame as before. My judgment, ſaid he, has been as much wronged as my love. So, after a few confiderations, calling to mind, that as an accident had procured her to him, he ought, without reluctan- cy, to ſurrender her again ; having made a reſolu- tion never to venture any more on that uncerta ſtate, which commonly promiſes happineſs, but of. ten brings ſorrow : he ſhifts his lodging, and goes to live where he was unknown, the better to paſs for a bachelor ; in which free ſtation he enjoyed peace undiflurbed and pleaſures uncontrolled, for the ſpace of twelve months : but croſs fate ſtill pur- ſues him ; he muſt again be fettered, and be t heavier chains than before. A ſecond mate is allot- ted him, who, though very chaſte, dooms him wretch- ed, being ſhort of other qualifications neceſſary in a wife to make a man happy, This woman had been bred up from her infancy under the care of a lady, whoſe two daughters Quarll taught to fing, and had lived with her in the ſtation of a chamber-maid, ever fince ſhe was big enoug officiate in that place; during which time, having behaved herſelf to her miſtreſs’ co had gaun- 2. ----> raffection ; ſo that thi d lady, being deſir- š a woman, ſhe c 1 of, PHILIP QUARLL. ſerved him ever ſince he came to her houſe, to carry and behave himſelf very decently. Thus having de- clared her mind to her, who had already a great incli- nation that way, ſhe readily ſubmitted to her lady’s will, who promiſed to bring it about. § The good lady, having conceived the principal means to bring her deſign about, took the opportu- nity of Quarll's next coming, to propoſe it to him, promifing to make her worth three hundred pounds, which was the only motive that could engage him to break the reſolution he had made. The young wo- man being alſo very agreeable in her perſon, and ex- aordinary obliging to him, he readily accepted the TCT, - . The old lady, having ſo far prevailed upon him, is reſolved to puſh on till quite concluded: ſo has them married in leſs than a week, and gave them lodgings in her houſe, where they continued but one month. The new-married wife, thinking her- ſelf in ſome meaſure, under confinement whilſt in the good lady’s houſe, to whom duty and gratitude oblig- ed her to be more than indifferently obſerving, being likewiſe ſomewhat ambitious of living great, perſuades her huſband to take a fe, and furniſh it ; which being done according to deſire, they went away from the kind old lady to live by themſelves, without confidering the expenſe of houſekeeping, which they both, till then, had been ſtrangers to, but, in a little time, became too well acquainted with. ing the houſe dred pounds being gone in furniſh- ind paying two years’ rent, and as herſelf had but lately over- to reduce his charges, and, some; ſo diſcharges the f PHILIP QUARLL. to, perfluous ſervant, whoſe buſineſs was only to indulge her indolence, and increaſe her pride. That ſudden leſſening of her attendants checked her ambitious diſpoſition in ſuch a manner that it threw her into the ſpleen ; which was like to have coſt him more money in doćtors, than the ſervant’s wages which he endeavoured to ſave. Being taken very ill, and knowing not what to complain of, a doćtor was granted at her importuni- ty, rather than her need ; who, being come, and find- ing her indiſpoſition lie in her temper, more than a defe&t of nature, ordered her medicines to make them both in the ſame condition. " . . . º Her ſtrength decaying, and the apothecary’s bill increaſing, which are the uſual effects of imaginary illneſs, made her huſband apprehenſive, that conſi- derable charges might accrue from her fanciful and imaginary diſtemper, which he would not indulge ; and feared to check too ſuddenly, left it might pro- duce ſome other ill effect : ſo, in compliance to her natural pride, he promiſes her going into the country, as being a proper expedient to ſave his money, and to be rid of a grunting companion, at leaſt during the ſummer. This propoſal, ſuiti mbition to imitate qua- lity (who, for the generality, go out of town about that time of the year) was ſoon accepted of ; and that opportunity of being freed from one of the greateſt plagues which can befal a man, by him as º arll, having got her in the mind, was no wife di- get it performed; but made diligent inquiry º N. in ace in the country, for s and cheapneſs; which being info ith takes a horſe; and having foun .3% old countryman, with his wife and daughter, in Yorkſhire, whoſe diligent cares, and frugal living, whilſt young and ſtrong, had been rewarded with a moderate competence, to keep him from toiling when grown old: who, having d pleaſant and commo dious habitation, diſtant from meddling and inſpecting neighbours, and room to ſpare, were gry glad to a gentlewoman to board, bein em in their remote living, and therefore ſt upon no rate ; which fuiting Quarli’s circumſtances and wiſhes, he began to conſult on means to keep his wife there for a conſtancy and as he well knew ſhe never would conſent, nor he be able to force her to it by violence, he applies to ſtratagems. Thus, hav- *ing given her the beſt charaćter he could to the old ſhe had one failing, but that it was nowife trouble- ſome, provided one give her her way: ſhe is very vapouriſh, and looks for great attendance : O dear! *"...","...","...'. PHILIP QUARLL. Io9 letters: I charge you, let her have no paper, only at firſt ; to write to me once, or twice, or ſo ; and that you will gueſs, when proper, by her railing, which will be a token of her being diſcompoſed : and, as for her diet, ſhe is ſomething dainty; but I fee you have plenty of poultry, which ſhe loves. well. O dear, fir, anſwered the old woman, have fiſh, fleſh, and fowl, when ſhe pleaſes have a fine pond in the ground, well ſtocked wi fiſh ; and cocks and hens enough, you fee, about the yard ; aſid for butcher’s meat, it it two or hours ride to the next town. So Quarll having agreed beforehand, which he promiſe -- boarded there, he returns to London, in order to fetch his wife; who having projected a greatneſs of iving in the country, which ſhe was diſappointed of n town, immediately inquired into the appearance of the houſe, the handſomeneſs of the lodgings, and the gentility of the neighbours: to which queſtions Qu { care to anſwer ſuitable to her inclina- º : ncluded to go the next day, they went out to mak fion of ſuch things as cannot well be had in t y; as, Nantz brandy, ratafia, uſquebaugh, co ocolate, and ſuch things as were neceſſary for genteel company. ing provided with every thing, they ſet out the next day; but as neither lodgings, houſe, or neigh- bourhood, anſwered her ambition, nor his comi dations, he contrived to arrive in the night, that ſhe might not find the deceit ; and as the good people of the houſe, according to direction, ſhowed h abundance of reſpect, giving her the title of 1 od ſupper being prepared, ſhe inquir the matter. The next morning Q ſ one quarter io do whilſt ſhe 116 pHILIP QUARLL. having repreſented to his ſpouſe, it would be of pre- judice to him, if he ſtayed any longer from his ſcho- lars, having already loſt fix days, took his leave of her, and left her in bed, it not being her uſual time to riſe; ſo having promiſed to be with her in a ſhort time, to ſee how ſhe liked her lodgings, he returned ndon, having firſt renewed his charge to the :ople of the houſe, of giving her her humour; and, above all, not to let her go out alone, nor con- ſent to her coming up to London; which, in a little time, he queſ but ſhe would be very deſir- ous of §: Omarll bein the old people, according to their charge, were extraordinary diligent and careful in pleafing their new lodger; who, finding her ambi- tion gratified by their obſervance, kept in that day : but the next morning, having a fancy to walk out, the young woman of the houſe took her to ſee the ground and cattle which belonged to them, as being the principal things ſhe could ſhow her; there being neither houſe nor habitation, ºl, as it ºs W. rea ady to ſtar PHILIP QUAI . 111 her home; where, being come, they would have laid her upon the bed; but ſhe, who took this act of their caution for an effect of their careful attendance, told them, that indeed ſhe could not find fault with them; and that her habitation might ſuit their birth; but really it did not hers, which her huſband very well knew ; and therefore ſhe never would * * him for bringing her thither, and that h ſoon know : ſo deſired them to give her pa ink, if the houſe could afford ſuch a thing. The good people, who had been cautioned to give her her humour in that at the beginning, having none at home, ſent the boy that attended their ſheep on horſeback to the next town for them; then, leav- ing her to compoſe herſelf, they retired to bewail among themſelves her misfortune, which they per- ceived to be the effect of pride, refle&ting upon the happineſs of their own condition, and the pleaſure of a contented life. - . “* Now, ſaid they, ſhe has been brought up in a where exceſs of pleaſure and luxury are made arriv but alas ! - leir life is “vanity in faſhions, en “together with their inſepara gº “only contribute to make an unhappy life ith (*) are ſe s, for theſe reaſon ir any thing from his ry life. 2. And ery lively ideas is ſolitude. I I 2 IP QUARLL. “miſerable. Here this gentlewoman wants for no “ manner of neceſſaries to make life comfortable, “but has rather a ſuperabundancy. Could ſhe re- “jećt that horrid pain cauſing quality of pride, and “learn a little humility, it is that brings content, and “ſweetens all the misfortunes of this life. How pre- ferable is our ſtation to hers : how ſolid is the ure we enjoy in this ſolitary habitation, com- * pared to the trifling joys the great ones poſſeſs in “the moſt populous cities O, happy fields, and fi- “lent groves, where nothing but eternal rounds of “ pleaſure centre here no debaucheries, rioting, “faſhions, and luxurious entertainments ; no envy, “ of other’s good fortune, no drunkenneſs, ſwearing, “ and blaſpheming the mercies of the Almighty God, “ever take place, as in flouriſhing cities: but Pro- “vidence gives us all things with a bountiful hand : “in ſhort, we have all we defire, and more than we “juſtly deſerve. Here the beauteous birds, joyful- “ly hop from bough, to bough, ſtretching their “ tuneful throats, and warble out melodious “to their great Creator’s praiſe; wh “in harmonious echoes, repeat the ſame to the fruit- “ful neighbouring val ere is nothing to be * ſeen or heard but u acclamations of praiſe “ to the great God of all things. This is the real “ſolid pleaſure: this it is that makes us perfectly hap- “py. For how much more eligible is the company “of irrational animals, or even inanimate things, “ than the ſociety of men, who have diveſted them- “ſelves of all things but ſhape, whereby to diſtin- “guiſh them from the moſt deformed brutes, or, in- “deed, from more horrible devils? This gentlewo- - s tº *k, d of our OW º ºf PHILIP QUARLL. 113 “ignorant; but now we may ſee, that happineſs “conſiſts not in riches, nor content in gaudy appa- “rel.—But why do we tarry here 2. It is not pro- “ per to leave the gentlewoman ſo long alone, left, “in one of her fits, ſhe ſhot herſelf a miſchief: “ therefore let one of us go to her.” So the good woman of the houſe went to finding her in tears, uſed all poſſible endea divert her melancholy, but all to no purpoſe ; for ſhe was interrupted by exclamations againſt, That Villain That Rogue her huſband. The good woman, º that words would not prevail, thought that a glaſs of ratafia might do better; ſo deſired her to comfort herſelf, and take a glaſs of her cordial ; to which ſhe ſoon conſented, and after that four or five more, which had the defired effect ; for her me- lancholy was by this time turned into the moſt vio- lent fits of the ſpleen, and preſently into drowſineſs. The landlady perceiving her condition, deſired her to lie down, and refreſh herſelf by taking a little ſleep: on her bed, and watching her fo laying her d to ſleep, retired After ſhe had ſlept a very ſplenic humour why pen, ink, and pap ſaid the old woman, we did ſhip was awake; and we but I will bring it to you pr brought it. Which ſhe no began to write the following don) would not kill me quick enough itſelf, that you have decoyed me to an hovel, the dullneſs whereof is ſufficient to make any well-bred dog pine itſelf to death ; here not being a rational creature to talk to, but the inſipid folk he hut ; who, being ſtript of their clumſy human ſhape, will be as complete br as their oxen and cows. Pray ſee that you fo h fetch me hence, or expect to incur all the reſentment an injured wife can ſhow, as ſoon as ar- rived in London, where I ſhall ſurely come in a few days, though I was to travel all the way barefoot. Yours, &c. MARY QUARLL. This letter being wrote, the good people of the & 3. . . . .3 in a great conſternation, whether they ought to ſend it, or not; but, after ſome conſulta- tion about the matter, they concluded it ſhould go, left her huſband ſhould take it amiſs. : Quarll, who expected ſome ſuch letter from his haughty dame, as ſoon as ſhe had diſcovered the cheat, had, with a grea f judgment, prepared h O u! ſe W e r e ºg. itrun your reaſon, it § ſhould haſten ſending any more, ing, ſeeing it did above all thing not give them the ſlip tify them for their trouble. This obliging letter, together with a preſent pair of handſom en ſtockings, and lemon-colour ed gloves to the daughter, n the old folks’ affection, that t … º ſerving his order . different ſucceſs ; for, i give her opportunity of writ- aggravate her . fe had a quite Inſtead of p g her into con- ſideration, it ſet her in ſuch a violent rage, as would ſcarce permit her to read it throughout: ſo tearing it to pieces, ſhe ſtorm it, Conſider my circum- ſtances ! vile wretch 1 im behold my portion, ter a dwelling than a iately to the town, and -morrow ; for I get me a place in the ſtage agai will go and tear that villai The good woman w her thus deſpiſe her in a mile round; but a of her vapours, inſtead of vindic ough old and low built, v very convenient, t N. wiſhing it had b ſending to take } : º - ed upon going the week follow- as again diſappointed, by one miſhap or om time to time : till at laſt ſhe be- - ir giving of meaning to keep er there : th lved to go herſelf; but not knowing the way, ſhe defired ſomebody might be *ſent along with her; which they were ready to grant, ver had, being always out of the way, - ºn, ſhe began to think ce r huſband to be rid of her g for her board and lodging, which d done before-hand, and agreed ſtay, which, very probably, might !d t nt him, by w ek out the it was a c with only he underſt ing b would direct her; but ºned of ſuch gilant to % 117 le by long experience knew, calls for her grand ſpecific ; and, after ſhe had drank three- or four refreſhing glaſſes, ſhe became more eaſy, and retired to reſt: when having ſlept a few hours, ſhe awakes ſomething better compoſed. Thus confider- ing that all the reſentment ſhe was capable to ſhow could not mend her condition ; ſhe therefore conclud- ed to make her landlord and landlady her friends, that if ſhe did not enjoy her liberty, as ſhe propoſed, ſhe might at leaſt enjoy a little more content in her confinement. - * * Thus ſhe reſolved, and indeed kept her reſolution a long time : laying aſide her haughty temper, and curbing thoſe violent paſſions ſhe had ſo long accuſ- tomed herſelf to, ſhe now bega ch more fa- miliar and condeſcending, than w e had hitherto ſhown, to the great {. and ſurpriſe of the good peo- ple; who by this ſtrange alteration, were in great hopes her madneſs was wearing off; and, upon that account, were extremely induſtrious to humour her in every point; uſing her with all the good manners, they were capable of: which ſhe eaſily perceiving, thought to make uſe of their credulity to her advan- tage; for ſhe was a woman of quick penetration : and, finding how egregiouſly thoſe ignorant people had been impoſed upon, in relation to her phrenſ ans to regain her liberty was tone, and which ſhe º reaſe or recovery, ier ends for all their Now the ſcene was entirely ed; the raving, proud, ill-natured gentlewoma ame the moſt plea- fant, ſociable, and beſt-natured perſon they had ever met with : and they, who juſt before conceived ſo great a diſlike to her, were now ſo delighted with her company and converſation, that ſhe was leſs alone than formerly, they always contriving ſome diverſion or other to drive away her melancholy, and to pre- vent a relapſe; hoping d the welcome news of St recovery to her huſband: frequently plea- try tales, ſhowing her all the ardens, and orchards could af- º: little contrivances to paſs the mile ſhe endeavoured to divert them al adventures of the Londoners. This oft a whole month, with all the ſeem- reimagin herſelf in no §.º.º.º.º.º...? - o obtain ed in the 3. lewoman, w tions of his e Dut > - ligious woman, to church two or three times every day, where he was obliged conſtantly to attend her, and ſo much gravity not ſuiting his mercurial temper, ſoon obliged him to quit his poſt. But he, being an arch wag, and a ſly knave, ſoon advanced himſelf to be a footman to a young nobleman. Here he began to ſhow his genius: for his maſter being a young gentleman very much delighting with love ad- ventures, frequently iſe of him in thoſe caſes ; and, finding him to be of a ſharp, re eareful, and well ſkilled in taciturni him ſecret meſſenger in ordinar in which ſtation he behaved himſ having all the accompliſhments neceſſa ty a truſt, viz. ºvigilance, diſpatch, and theſe ſo well managed, that & itation, an f lat 12o º poſe, diſguiſes himſe man, and equipped his on purpoſe to make him venture. :: * § This place, where the wake was kept, was about ten miles from the nobleman's ſeat; ſo each mount- ed his horſe, and away they rode: when, being ar- rived at the town, nigh which they were to hunt their game, they both alight, and put up their horſes at an inn; and, having pulled off their boots, out they walk towards the pla rendezvous: as ſoon as they came within fight ice, they beheld the fields prettily beſpottet ifferent companies, at as many different diverſions. In one place a par- cel of wreſtlers, eagerly contending, with broken ſhins, for a pair of gloves; in another, a company of cudgel-players, with battered ribs, fighting for a laced hat; ſome at one game, and ſome at another: but Tom and his maſter, who cared for neither bro- *...º.º.º. º: gºgº gº Out ntry gentle- : ſame garb, n in his ad- PHILIP QUARLL. at sº % to be at it. Do you long to ſee what I will do? ſays the nobleman; why, I intend to work miracles; I ſhall make my nymph a goddeſs, before I leave her: Well then, replied Tom, I ſuppoſe I may take th privilege to make my girl a nymph, at leaſt. While they were thus talk ing, they ſtood like two hawks hovering over they prey, not knowing on which to fix their fatal talons, and the ruſtics ſtaring at them with open mouths, and diſtended noſtrils, not knowing what to think of them. At length Mr. Scrape, by tuning his melodious battered fiddle, ſum- mons all the girls to readineſs, each preparing her feet for the ſport; while every Hob began to ſeize a partner, and Tom and his maſter (in the mean time, you may be ſure) were not idle: for, offering their ſervice to a couple of pretty cherry-cheeked º: as Tom called them, the innocent girls very gladly accepted their offers, little dreaming their wicked in- tentions; but the miſchief was, the nobleman had got the girl which Tom had the moſt inclination to; which cauſed ſuch a ſecret envy in his breaſt, - came the fatal cauſe of his unfortunate diſgrace. Now the dance was begun with great fury on both firls romping and tearing, and the fellows ld hauling, and ſh º e ſo many mad devils, while T ſtrangers to ſuch kind of diverſion - he country fellows mock- fing, and ſeeing his I I22 PHILIP QUARLL. upon them, and kiſſed them till they were almoſt ſtifled ; then hoiſting them up, extends his mouth to a full yawn, and laughs as loud, and with as great a grace, as any of them; while Tom, to ſhow his aćtivity jumps about a yard high, always taking care to light upon ſomebody’s toes: which jº. put the whole company into a loud fit of laughter, ex- cept the perſon hurt; who, in compliance to the reſt, was obliged to put her mouth in a grinning poſture. . . . . Thus they became the moſt facetious companions. imaginable (every one praiſing the two gentlemen’s good humour and activity) and, in ſhort, became the wonder of the whole company. But Tom and his maſter, having tired i. and their partners ſufficiently, began to think of retiring, in order to freſh their wearied limbs; and, motioning the ſame nymphs, the poor girls ... accom- em. Now, they thought themſelves ſecure tended ſport, and condućted them, for to the inn where they had put up their PHILIP QUARLL. is appear: the two girls, perceiving the time, defired leave to go home, which the nobleman abſolutely re- fuſed ; Tom, thinking to make ſure of his game . upon the road, conſented to go with his partner ; which the other hearing, begged not to be left alone, but that ſhe might go likewiſe : the nobleman (think- ing he had not brought her to the deſire ch) as heartily defired her to ſtay, vowing that nobody ſhould wrong or hurt her; but when the other gentle- man returned (meaning Tom) they would both con- dućt her home; ſo, by mere dint of argument, pre- vailed upon her to tarry till Tom’s return. Now Tom, as ſoon as he had got from the town, began to attack his fort, which after a little parley, furrendered at diſcretion; ſo Tom razed the walls to the ground, entered the caſtle, and took poſſeſſion of the city ; all which being tranſačted, he leaves her, promiſing to reviſit her the next day, ends haſty ſteps towards the inn, with a deal of impatience; muttering theſe words as he went : What a block- head was I to let my maſter be too ni for me ! . Ah! fool that naarſal wheth ſo ſaid, I 24 PHILIP QUARLL. to tarry; telling her, he was a little tired with the walk he had taken, and wanted to refreſh himſelf: ſo defired her to ſtay, while he only took a glaſs, and he would go with her. The girl, very unwill- ingly, complied, and ſat down again. The noble- man finding Tom had no mind to part with her, ima- gined he was bringing about what himſelf ſo long en- deavoured in vain ; and therefore, pulling out his watch, he ſtarts up in haſte, and ſays he muſt needs go, for it was paſt the time that he promiſed to be at a certain place : ſo tells the innocent girl he very unwillingly left her ; but he hoped this would not break their new acquaintance, for he would pay her a viſit in a ſhort time, defiring to be excuſed for this time; and he believed he could prevail upon the other conduct her home. Tom, who under- * aming, follows him to the door, and there receives his charge, which was, that he ſhould bring her to a houſe they both knew, about three miles off, as ſoon as poſſible : ſo took his leave, mounted his horſe, and went thither, impatiently waiting for his prey. . Now Tom was extremely pleaſed with his maſter’s intentions, reſolving to put the bit upon the biter . . and, as ſoon as the nobleman departed, began to at- t he fortification with all the artillery wine and ſoft words could ſupply him with : but the defendant, proof to battery of this kind, held out nobly a long time, and moved ſtrongly for a ceſſation of arms, de- - us turns of intrigues, reſolved not to loſe his yeing well aſſured he ſh ing her to arti- th attack, which o cry for quar- ime ; and bega g that ſhe was o T PHILIP QUARLL. 125 fuáded her to lie there ; aſſuring her, that he would fee her well provided for, and ſo, in ſhort, ſhe bluſh- £ 3. . . . . .3: om having gained his point, orders a bed to be got ready ; and then defired his miſtreſs, who was, by this time, much overcome with wine and ſlet o go to bed. The poor girl (ſtill between d nd fear) knew not what to ſay, but, trem enies what her looks deſired ; and, after a many arguments on both fides, ſhe reſigns herſelf en- tirely to him. The ſly knave, joyful of his prey, condućts his miſtreſs to bed; but, as they were go- ing, the old crafty innkeeper cries, in mere form, I hope, fir, that is your wife, for I would by no means have anything diſhoneſt done in my houſe. Yes, yes, (ſays our rogue) you may aſſure yourſelf it wife, or elſe I ſhould not have offered to go to b with her, while the poor girl, hiding her face, up ſtairs as faſt as ſhe could. They had not been long above, when the noble- ineaſy at their delay, returns to the inquires after the couple he left. Why, hoſt, they are a-bed: A-bed ſays the noblem: a-bed | Yes, anſwered he, it being too late to go home, they took up their lodgings here. Whi they a-bed together? ſaid the gentleman. the innkeeper, I left them both together. bleman, hearing this, ſtood like one thund º his blood all in fion, very coolly inquired he had ſome b ntleman, and he e innkeeper, una 126 PHILIP QUARLL. gentleman was returned, and wanted to ſpeak with him. Tom not being yet undreſſe # # : : maſter’s fiery temper, and the juſt reſet ure to meet with, opens the window, % # * jumps, without ſaying a word; and, having bruiſed himſelf with the fall, lay ſome time upon the ground ; ill, recovering himſelf a little, he precipitately got over the garden wall, into which he had dropt from the window ; and ſcours over the fields as faſt as he could, without ever looking back. But having run himſelf out of breath, and thinking himſelf out of danger, down he fits, refle&ting upon his melancholy circumſtances. O miſerable wretch! ſays he, what have I done How dare I ever ſee my maſter, who always repoſed his truſt in me 2 and I, like a perfidious villain, to deceive him certain death attends me, if I go home ; and, if I tarry here there’s nothing but beggary or ſtarving; I have at once loſt all credit and reputation, and ſee nothing but ruin, unavoidable ruin. O woman, woman 1 eurſed be- º g woman what an infinite number of miſ- are ye the ſource of 1 But why do I exclaim woman ſo innocent, and ſo charming, when traitorous deceiver, ſought nothing but her miſery O juſt heaven! it was you that ſaved impending ruin, and deſervedly threw all fatal ". myſelf: well, I will bear them patiently; load me with all the evils you can bring, ill they § * mount ſo high, you can lay no more. Rav- ld curfing in this manner, d his ſpirits, fell aſleep. - Having ſlept ſome time, he awakes, ere he was. Did I dream, ſays he, or luft certainly be true; I am the moſt breathing; the very ſame ruin, PHILIP QUARLL. 127 the poor innocent girl, has juſtly fallen upon myſelf; and what is ome of her I know not, nor dare I to inquire; hope, as heaven has hitherto pro- tected her, it will likewiſe preſerve her from the evil intents of my maſter. . Reflecting upon himſelf in this manner, he walked about till day-light, not knowing what to do, or whither to go: he was now a great way from Lon- don, deſtitute of friends or acquaintance, little or no money in his pocket, and durſt not ſee his maſter. Deſpairing in this condition, he ſaw a company of haymakers going to work; it being ſummer-time ; and reſolved to make one of their number if poſſible ; hoping by that means to keep himſelf from ſtarving, and work his paſſage up to London. . With this reſolution he attacks the haymakers, aſking them from whence they came, and whither they were going ; which they anſwered very civilly, telling him they came from London, and were going towards the north of England : ſo, being baulked in expectation of coming to London, along with im, he knew not what to do ; but at laſt reſolves to go along with them, hoping to meet ſomething in his way that might make his journey pleaſant; ſo tells them his reſolution to make one amongſt them : but they, ſeeing a man genteelly dreſſed petitioning. for a poor haymaker’s place, took him to be only in jett, and told him they ſhould be glad of ſuch a com- panion, if he ſpoke as he thought. He them the ſince ſaid they ſhould be very glad to ſerve eir maſter would be in the field by-and hire him, for he wanted hands : nd tarried till the old who, finding a well-dreſſed young fellow wanting employment of that kind, aſked him. * * ~~~~ ueſtions, which Tom anſwered ve er, therefore, taking it only frolic, w not to baulk him, and ſo hired him, ſaying, go to work that very day, if he would ; but nting a fork, told him, that, as ſoon get his tools in readineſs, he would com a man to go to the next town to buy one, , as ſoon as brought, he falls to work very m went with them from place to place, con- himſelf to their cuſtoms in every point, a very merry companion, and much below . reſent life became much p mer, never inquiring after his y nor did he know wha At laſt, it fell to his lot to be h r , ſeeing worked for ; who, ſeein sº PHILIP QUARLL. 129 time would certainly bring about his purpoſe ; which not long after happened in this manner: Tom, during her alteration of temper, had more liberty of converſe than before ; and often diverted her with entertaining ſtories ; and one day, being alone with her, opened to her the whole ſeries of his paſt fortunes and misfortunes, which ſhe heard with great attention and pleaſure : for Tom had never be- ore diſcovered himſelf to any ; but thinking to gain credit with this gentlewoman, made her only privy to it. When Tom was gone, ſhe began to reflect on the fellow’s dexterity ; and believing him well ſkilled in all kinds of adventures, thought he might be a fit inſtrument for her eſcape, and reſolved to adviſe with him about it ; accordingly the next day took an opportunity to call him to her again, when ſhe was alone, deſiring him to divert her with ſome of his merry tales, telling him ſhe was then very melancho- ly. Madam, ſays Tom, I am ſorry I ſhould find you melancholy ; but I will do all I can to ple § Ay, ſays ſhe, if you knew the occaſion of n lancholy, you would pity me, as well as bef but you cannot be ignorant what a priſoner I am made here, how conſtantly I am attended, and have ſcarce anything but brutes to ſpeak to ; I can aſſure you that this uſage is enough to make me as mad as the people take me to be ; for I never was brought up in this manner, which my huſband knows; it is only a contrivance of his to keep me here a c loſe pri- ſoner, if poſſible; but I will deceive him; for if a woman’s invention can find any means to eſcap curſed place, he ſhall be ſure to ſee me in Lo quickly, to his great mortification. The º and that §. º.º.º.º.º.º.º. rogue heard her very quietly, and tho e his deſired ends; ſo tells her your clothes, and everything you have a mind t hould be releaſed that very night, if ſhe pleaſed, and he himſelf would accompany her to London ; for he longed to be there again: ſhe was glad to hear him. ay ſo; and aſked by what means he intended to con- her thence. O Lord ſays he, eaſy enough; tell you how ; I’ll take a ladder and ſet it againſt your window, and ſo come into your room, and take ſend to London, and carry them to a particular ::::::::::::::::: of mine ; then I’ll come back and fetch ou, and condućt you to the next town, which is not a . r fix miles off, and ſtay there for the ſta coach, and ſo both go to London toget gentlewoman, willing to get her liberty at any agreed to the propoſal, only deſiring another day ook after all her things, and pack them up conv fe ſhe would not hurry herſelf, left they l, and ſtop her journey. " ſented to what fl.". and wiſhed f time ; which being come, and all s, he brings the ladder, and mounts »m ; while ſhe as readily del ll her baggage ready packed : reſent- d uſed to en- ſcend the PHILIP QUARLL; 131 to ſee what was the matter; and, perceiving the tlewoman’s window open, and a fellow running * : yard, cries out, Murder . Thieves | Thieves! which alarmed the whole family; ſome get- ing pitchforks, ſome pokers; ſome one thing, ſome another, in order to ſcare the thieves ; but the old man, with his fowling-piece in his hand, lik commander, led the van, ſearching all his for thieves, and to ſee what he had loſt, c looking into every hole and corner, not advance too faſt, for fear of a ſurpriſe to Mrs. Quarll's room, whoſe window - to her a long time; but heal d ſhe was murdered, and there loor, and ſearches the room ; b. Mrs. Quarll to be found; they ſtare - not knowing what to think. However, had examined all the houſe, they boldly - nt the thi 3. :eived ſomet 132 PHILIP QUARLL. a-croſs theyard ſo ſwiftly. Thus they diſputed a long time, but at laſt agreed that ſhe ought to be carried to bed again, and have care taken of her : and ſo carried her up ſtairs; and then went to finiſh their ſearch, while the good old woman and her daughter undreſſed her, got her to bed, and ſat up with her all that night. 2. After all was finiſhed, the old man, willing to know what quantity of men he had loſt, calls a general muſter; and, finding Tom miſſing, wondered where he was got to, aſking if he lay at home that night; they told him no ; but they believed he was gone a ſweethearting. A ſweethearting ! ſays the old low, well, let him be there always; for he ſhall ne- wer come hither again : how do I know but he has ſent the thieves to rob me, or that he is one of them himſelf? If he ever comes hither, I will turn him about his buſineſs as ſoon as I ſee him. But Tomº underſtood better things than to come thither again; : knew the adventure would be blown, and then rtainly diſcarded with diſgrace; ſo make the beſt of what he had lever heard of again. n as come to her ſpeech, con- e, and lays the blame upon ent her thither to be mur- ad his deſired end, only that ſhe as tilt un, auſe of her own death. The old as ſoon as he knew the matter perfeółly, writes her huſband a full account of the whole ſtory; Elling him he was in a fair way to loſe his wife : and t, if it ſhould ſo happen, he had no o d for her clothes, for ſhe l § hd tells him by what means. ad read the lett s very PHILIP QUARLL. wife's folly; but reſolved, if ſhe recovered, ſhe ſhould tarry ſome time without clothes, which he knew would be puniſhment enough to her pride : ſo write back to them, that they ſhould take all poſſible to reſtore her to her health, and likewiſe to p any thing of that kind for the future; telling that in a little time he would ſend her ſome and make them amends for their trouble. bre ſhe perfeótly rec N. fore that time, her huſband had ſent her ſome new clothes, was, in a great meaſure, reconciled more eaſy in her mind than before. good people, whom ſhe trageous paſſion, were very and took that opportunity t eſs of her condition; bein well provided with all ne 134 PHILIP QUARLL. mit to continue there till the fall of the leaf; againſt which time ſhe would contrive ſome way or other to go, if her huſband did not come for her. But Quarll, who, ever fince her being in the coun- try, had enjoyed the uncontrolled pleaſure of a fin- gle life, having no mind to interrupt them by her pre- ſence, took care to ſecure her there ; ſending her guardians now-and-then freſh charge to be watchful over her, and a ſmall preſent to encourage them to It. º - - & te, who was ever averſe to his happi- a new interruption thereto. tlar neſs, ſug having given over houſe-keeping, happened to com and live at a mantua-maker’s, of vaſt buſineſs, and re. ed worth money. She was a ſingle woman, pret- handſome, but intolerably proud and conceited; Which was the cauſe of her being ſtill unmarried, thinking herſelf too good for any tradeſman, or any thing below a gentleman; which ſeeing no proſpect to eing already twice encumbered in the trouble- e of matrimony, and but juſt rid of his § o venture any more : fo ion ; but her love increaſ. ng taken notice of, ſhe was : to an old gentlewoman, who him ; who, having doubt- PHILIP QUARLL. 135 leſs been in the ſame condition, was, by experience, capable to give her advice. . The old gentlewoman (as it is peculiar to them, when paſt the ſport themſelves, do love to promote it in others) took upon her the management of that af- fair ; and from that time watched the opportunity of ſpeaking to him, which was only in the morning be- fore he went out, or at night when he came home, being abroad all the day beſide : fo, having reſolved upon it, the next morning ſhe leaves her own door open, which was oppoſite to his, wai ~~~~ :- out, to invite him to a diſh of chocol had ready for that purpoſe. . Having, according to her deſire, got him into her chamber, as he was drinking his diſh, ſhe feign of laughing. You wonder, ſaid ſhe, what it is I laugh at ; but, I dare ſay, you will laugh as we I, when you know : why, our man-hater is in lo at laſt ; in love up to her ears, re as you alive. Our man-hater, madam . that : Do not you know 2 repli landlady, who has refuſed ſo many how happily might that woman h might have rode in her coach years. was good enough for madam : this ha and that another: in ſhort none could is true, indeed, ſhe is very deſerving : th of her is in the fight, and that you know is agreeable : but did you ſee what a fine b you would be ready to run mad for her the fineſt leg and foot that ev rt, ſhe is fit for a king's em. S. ood properties beſides; and one above al ps you will ſay is the principal; ſhe ha a great *. % that will f PHILIP QUARLL f, I dare ſay; I wiſh I knew on whom : ſt be ſome angel; for I have heard her find : with very handſome men that have addreſſed er: pray, did you ever obſerve any man to come ere? he muſt be the perſon; for all her concerns rith women. Indeed, replied Quarll, I never ; ſo have not an opportunity to make obſerva- But I have, ſaid ſhe ; and made it my buſi- º * yet never ſaw any man in this houſe you ; ſuppoſe you ſhould be he at , there is no danger, anſwered Quar s refuſed ſo many rich matches, wil her mind on a poor finging-maſter. How do low that * replied the old lady : love comes y, and marriage by fate, and it may be yours I would have you cultivate § almoſt ſwear you poſſeſs; you le: here is an agreeable woman in iod buſineſs, a houſe well furniſh- at money-bags well filled; now, if to make your fortune, here is a fair rll was ſa HILIP QUARLL. 137 him her aſſiſtance. So he took his leave, and went about his daily affairs, leaving the management of that to her ; who immediately went to inform the amorous landlady of her ſucceſs. :- -: Quarll being returned at night, the old lady, pur- ſuant to the buſineſs ſhe had taken in hand, follows him to the chamber, with the joyful news that ſhe had by her landlady’s bluſhing, diſcovered what her modeſty would have concealed ; that he was the man beloved; and, therefore, ſhe would not have him de- lay his being made happy : to whic nſwered, as ſhe had been the firſt cauſe of his happineſs, he left the accompliſhment thereof to her direction. Well, then, ſaid ſhe, if I have the ordering of it ſhall be done next Sunday, as being, of all the the moſt bleſſed day: and ſo bid him good night. The old gentlewoman, being made ſole directreſs : affair, was very diligent in the accompliſhment. thereof; ſo had them married on had pro- poſed. The buſineſs was done privat joy it produced could not be concealed : every body read bride in the new married wife’s face; ſo that greet- ings daily filled the houſe; which, for a month, was a reſidence for mirth; and, during the ſpace of a year, the feat of happineſs; peace kept the door, and plenty attended them. But churliſh fate, wh ever perſecuted him, would not permit that h ſtate to continue ; and, the more to aggravate hi loſs, makes love, the chief author of his ow the principal inſtrument of his ſorrow : jealouſy, the greateſt plague that can befal a married life, infects wife. She is upon thorns whilſt he is abſent, and ; :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: : fears of what he uneaſy when preſent, with th being often diſturbed, immediately taken up by nded with ruin, the de- 's ſurly fate. Buſineſs hands, makes them negli- : the huſband diverts his : drinks away her ſorrow money growing ſcant, credit muſt , being not redeemed, expoſes d filkman, with whom his wife deal arried, having received money, but marriage, and ſeeing her diſcontent, huſband (who appeared ſomething too ºº: 8 the occaſion ng in n from * PHILIP QUARLL. 139 ing ſhe would, when cooler, confider of it, and be reconciled. º º But great was his ſurpriſe, when next morning, inſtead of his wife’s coming according to expectation, a judgment is ſerved upon the goods of the houſe, at the ſuit of an upholſterer; ſo the houſe being entire- ly unfurniſhed, he was obliged to ſeek new lodgings, . where he continued a full quarter without hearing of his wife. . Quarll, hoping his wife had left hi neſt, indulges himſelf with the thought third time delivered from the greateſ that can involve a man; wondering how he c often fall into the ſame ſnare : three wives, ſai in three years 1 and every one equal plagues, thou of a different nature the firſt a whore, whom Iw moſt luckily rid of by accident: the ſecond a proud lazy, indolent creature; ſhe by ſtratagem is ſecured and the third a conceited jealous wretch; to tentation I owe my deliverance. Well, now once more free, I will take care how I hamper my- ſelf again : ſo makes a ſtrong reſolution, let what would happen, to live fingle from t * ...º. after. -- But his reſolution, though ever ſo ſtrong, avert fate’s irrevocable decree: a fourth wife -- im, which will bring upon him more e than he has yet gone throug ot only be broken, and his eaſe d uſt be in jeopardy, º A will his # 140 PHILIP QUARLL. between Quarll, who went for a bachelor, and her, being a widow : all the company liked the propoſal, and earneſtly urged on the match. Quarll, being a briſk, handſome, genteel young man, which qualifications have a vaſt aſcendancy upon the ſex, eſpecially on widows, made a confiderable impreſſion upon the hoſteſs ; who, being already above forty, was willing to intermix her ſupernume- rary years with thoſe of a huſband of a leſſer age : ſo, turning to jeſt what ſhe heartily wiſhed to be in earneſt, anſwers, in a joking manner, that Mr. Quarll doubtleſs had, before that time, made a bet- ter choice; ſo would hardly agree to their propoſal. A better choice I ſaid the gentlemen, I deny that : here is a handſome jolly woman, a noble houſe well- accuſtomed, a cellar well ſtocked with good wine, and bags, doubtleſs, well filled with money : I ſay he cannot make a better choice, nor ſhall he make any other; ſo here’s to its good ſucceſs ; thus he drinks to her, who in a joking way, puts it about. The glaſs having been round, now, Mr. Quarll, ſaid the colonel, let us have a love ſong to conclude the matter. 3... . .3 . Quarll, who thought the gentlemen had been but in jeſt, in his heart wiſhed it could turn to earneſt. The notion of a good eſtabliſhment, and proſpect of a confiderable advantage, having blanched over thoſe great obſtacles his preſent low circumſtances, and ele- wated condition, made him overlook, he did all he ſ g PHILIP QUARLL. 141 which he offered to purchaſe her love. Indeed, ſaid ſhe, in a pleaſant manner, I do not know what your thoughts may be ; but I never heard more agreeable expreſſions. Well then, widow, ſaid theſe gentlemen, you cannot, in gratitude, and good manners, but an- ſwer them j. Indeed, gentlemen, ſaid ſhe, 1 can ſay no more, but that they are mighty pretty words and charmingly ſung. Well then, repli . colonel, I will ſay the reſt for you. The lover having expreſſed his º in ſuch ſoft terms, and engaging a way, you cannot, without doing violence t - goodnature, deny him what he requeſts in a manner nor ſhall; I ſay the word : confirmed by all the company. To whic no anſwer, it was taken for granted. S age being concluded on, the next day was fixed 3 w reſolved not t 142 PHILIP QUARLL. 38% not live any longer from him; ſhe muſt have him with her at any rate, and will not reſt till ſhe finds out his lodgings ; from whence ſhe reſolves to waſh all ſorrow away with her tears, and ſettle him again in her arms. So ſhe ſtraight goes to the tavern ſhe ſaw him come out of, ſuppoſing it might be a houſe he conſtantly uſed, on purpoſe to inquire where he lodged. : . The new wife who was then in the bar, to whom ſhe applied, perceiving her in ſome ſort of diſorder, was very inquiſitive to know her buſineſs; which the #." woman refuſing to ſatisfy her, ſhe told her that he lived there, and that ſhe was his wife; and there- * eft to know her concern. At theſe moſt 3% ds, ſhe falls like one thunder-ſtruck upon the ground, deprived of all her ſenſes; and, for a confiderable time, lies as though bereft of life, § This dull ſcene turns the new wife's paſſion into commiſeration; and ſhe pities that misfortune which in her mind ſhe before condemned as a crime. This, ſaid ſhe, is a true fign of love, which a harlot is not capable of : I cannot blame her for loving him, but rather condole her misfortune. So, having ordered fair water and hartſhorn drops to be brought, gave ::...?....? ſome in a glaſs of water, which in a ſmall time fetched her a little to life; who, recovering, cried 5ut, had I not been ſo bewitched as to go from him, ould not have left me. Theſe . rt e officious condoler into a reveng diately imagined ſhe had lately iſtre d, doubtleſs, woul PHILIP QUARLL. 143 dam, replied the poor afflićted woman ; I am his lawful wife: ſo produces her certificate, (which ſhe happened to have about her ; ) which cauſed almoſt as much diſorder in the beholder, as ſhe herſelf was lately in. Having recovered her ſpeech, which the late fur- priſe had obſtructed, ſhe aſked her, in a violent paſ- fion, Why ſhe had been ſo baſe as to give him the op- portunity to come and cheat her, by her leaving him; for ſhe was his wife alſo : To which ſhe an- ſwered, That ſhe could not juſtify her going from him, though indeed ſhe had great provocation, he not proving the man ſhe took him to be. What re- plied ſhe in the bar, was he not man enough for you ? I think you are very hard to pleaſe: however, fince the deceit made you leave him, why do you diſturb yourſelf about him He has not deceived me; unleſs it be in having a wife before : but as you left him of your own accord, he had no more to do with you. No 1 replied ſhe, in a paſſion; but he ſhall find, and ſo ſhall you, that I have to do with him : ſo went away. § It being then about noon, his uſual time to come home from market, ſhe went into a public-houſe op- poſite to the tavern, there to wait his return, whi was a little after. As ſoon as ſhe ſaw him, him a call over. ... . . . . . . º.º.º. The ſin and unexpeace fight of th : on cle to the happineſs he then enjoyed, moſt bly ſhocking to him ; he wiſhed he ha th to have miſſed her; but to no purpoſe : lid no I44. PHILIP:OUARLL. fiery temper, was afraid ſhe ſhould break out in a paſſion in the ſtreet; which would have expoſed him, and brought it to his new wife's knowledge, being near home; ſo haſtens over to the houſe ſhe was in, ther coming ; and, judging his beginning aid her with i. elopement would, in ſome moderate her railing at him, he tells her, ters the room, I hope, madam, you have, by this time, found a man more to your mind. This was ſuffici provoke a milder temper to reproach in ºri lulterous marriage, of which ſhe was is but a fault, but his a crime : but not proper means to advance a re- ch was her intent, ſhe bridles her es her nature to a ſubmiſſion ; ſo *8. his feet and falls a weeping, owning ſhe had committed a fault, for which ſhe # *% . . . repented, and promiſed to atone b viour; calling heaven to witneſs moſt unhappy ſeparation. being of a compaſſionate flexible by her tears; ſo takes he his coat, as he was ſtepping into t the diſorder this ſecond ſurpriſe put : him to go again into the houſe he juſt came out f, ſhe immediately followed him, r iling as much as the . ion an & º after his prey, and pulls him b eaving in 146 . PHILIP QUARLL. The following ſeſſions happening to be extraordi- nary great, by the vaſt number of criminals, his trial and ſeveral more, were put off till the next ; ſo that he was confined at the time he uſed to ſend the money for his wife’s board in the country: and, not daring to employ an acquaintance on that affair, left hey ſhould inquire into the occaſion of his ſending that money ; he defired one, who often came to vi- fit a priſoner, to do him that favour: which he readily promiſed, but did not perform : ſo that the people in the c were uſed to be paid a quarter * ::: * * : *::::::::::: q, were ter in arrears: which, with the boarder's preſſing importunity to come up to Lon- don, made them at laſt reſolve upon it ; where being arrived, they immediately inquired after the unfortu- nate Quarll, whoſe impriſonment they ſoon heard of, as alſo of the cauſe thereof. v This did not a little exaſperate the already ſuffici- ently provoked inquiſitreſs; who, preſently imagin- ing, with good reaſon, that his confining her i country was merely for that inten ſecute him according to the utmoſt rig till his trial came on ; and then ſhe ſhould he proſecutor, and, at her own diſcretion, e mean time, his firſt wife, who had lately been (the knight who kept her being not long vaſt fortune) having heard of ed for º CO PHILIP QUARLL. 147 - of his preſent misfortune, reproached her with her leaving him, which was the original cauſe thereof. The innocent, yet guilty Sally, whoſe inclination, diſpoſition, and reſolution, had been violated, relat- ed the diſmal account of her fatal raviſhment, and pleaded her cauſe with ſuch a prevailing eloquence, as new kindled his former love, and made him (though the ſufferer) give it on her fide. . Being thoroughly reconciled, and having ſpent ſome hours in expreſſing both their griefs, they at laſt parted after a thouſand cordial embraces; and as ſhe was enabled, by the ſettlement the knight had made upon her, ſhe ſupplied him with money and neceſſaries during his confinement in Newgate; and was with him conſtantly every day, almoſt from morning to night; and, when he was called upon his trial, ſhe attended in the court, more concerned than if ſhe herſelf had been arraigned. . . . . The ſeſſions being commenced, he was firſt called to the bar; his indictment being read, he deſired to be heard by hi 3.: … . . . . . . . . deponent, having proved her marriage, requi priſoner at the bar ſhould be obliged to live or allow her a ſufficient maintenance, as gº. ..... . . . . .º.º.; elongs to me, ſaid ſh firſt wife; ſo produces her certificate. A appearing, ſtartles both the judges, and the pri who thought her ſe. Sally, who priority e ſo much pleaded for, thoug while to claim it, bei then had been filent, ſeein nſel; which was granted. The aired the I 48 . QU AR L L. ſeeing theſe women contending for that which be- gs to neither of them, I think myſelf º to claim my right: I am the firſt wife, and pleaſe y lordſhips. How a fourth wife, and indićted but rds, replied an old furly judge upon the bench, be known, he has half a ſcore ; I ſee it in his theſe ſmock-faced young fellows are ſo ad- d by the women, that they have not power to re- y thing. Sally, who thought to do the pri- taking the privilege of firſt wife into ing the ſucceſs of her good intent wn, but that the judges told her the proſecutrix, and was oblig- proſecution. This cauſed ſuch PHILIP QUARLL. I49 if ſhe is his firſt wife that way, I dare ſay he is not her firſt huſband by many. So ſhe was hiſſed out of the court. Then the judge addreſſing the next pre- tender, I hope, ſays he, yours lot prove a ſai- lor’s wedding, as hers did. A ſailor’s No, my lord, replied the ſecond wife; I have witneſſes enough to mine ; my lady Firebraſs, with whom I lived, and her two daughters, ſaw me fairly married in St. Martin’s church. How came it, ſaid the judge, you did not ſue him before he married the third wife 2 You ſhould have prevented his cheating any other poor woman. Why, my lord, ſaid ſhe, I knew nothing of it: he kept me a priſoner in the country, at this good woman’s houſe, where he de- coyed me, under pretence of being careful of me: I muſt go into the country for a month or two, to take the air; but when he had me there, there he kept me ever fince, charging the people of the houſe not to ſuffer me to come up to London, nor yet to go ing I was mad, becauſe I complained - º ry pretty device replied the old judge. Yes, my lord, cried out all the women in the court (who were come in gre hear a trial about a rape committed b a maid of fifty years of age) and a very bat dent, if not ſeverely puniſhed : ſhould this be ſuf fered, a poor wife will not dare to be out of º or complain, in hopes to be her huſband, under colour ſure of the country air, § ~ London. º º * § 3. The judges, preceden -------------- iss PHILIP QUARLL groan at their pleaſure, and alſo accept band's kindneſſes when offered. The court being filenced, the proceedings went on: dges having been ſpoken to by articular friends, who were related more favourable in their urly judge, with whom no of their huſ. The three wives then preſent having proved their marriage, the priſoner at the bar was aſked, what he had to ſay in his own defen in coming ag ſtrućtions . y unfit for me retire- or her, § Unfit for huma $ in great fury *: madneſs—My counſel ; I deſire, whom I have lived mi ther ſhe in all that ti ſymptoms of mad woman, Ih cannot ſay 1, mad, but once. this letter, whic there, may be judge whether I d §. bei ad is, PHILIP QUARLL. Whether a man or woman's being frantic (which but few in this town are more or leſs) do impower either to marry again; and if they will allow that, why did he marry a third The ſecond is not mad. The fe- cond, replied the counſel, eloped, my lord, and was from her huſband half a year; and it is to be queſ- tioned, whether ſhe would ever have come near him, had ſhe not accidentally found this opportunity to trouble him. It is a plain caſe, my lord, ſaid ano- ther judge, the priſoner is guilty of the crime he ſtands indićted for; yet I do not ſee but that there is room for favour. His conſtitution perhaps may require a woman for the maintenance of his health, and his inclination is averſe againſt vile women : be- fides, my lord, we do not hear that he did cohabit or correſpond with more than one at a time ; and ne- ver ſought a ſupply till he was deſtitute. In my opi- nion, my lord, he may be favoured a little. The ill-natured judge told him very furlily, that the fact was plain; and that he was tried according to the laws of his country, and muſt expect to ſuffer the penalty of thoſe laws : but he could ſee no room for favour, unleſs his Majeſty would graciouſly be pleaf- ed to ſhow it him; and it was entirely out of his own power; ſo ſums up the evidence, and refers it to the º; and after having . ºverdićt, Death. hing one another with offing their huſband, be relieved by man; in as recovered, went back to the priſoner a the court broke up : a carry him to Newgat night. As ſoon as the k ed for pen, ink, an his colo and wrote the following letter t May it pleaſe your Honour, "I AM now under the terrible ſentence of con nation; I need not tell you upon - fe being too well known to the v 1st PhILIP QUARLL. head, nor moved his eyes, ſhe went ſoftly up to him, and ſpoke to him : he no ſooner heard her voice, but he ſtarts, and looks like one juſt awake from a dream; and then burſts into tears and could not ſpeak a word; which Sally ſeeing, could not forbear weeping ; and fell upon his neck, deſiring him with all tenderneſs to ſtop the torrent; for ſhe had ſome joyful news to tell him. What joyful news, ſays he, can you bring a man under my wretched circumſtances? Can anything elevate the mind whom Heaven itſelf has contrived to depreſs : Am not I the very out-caſt and ſcorn of Providence 2 Have not I been unfortunate from my infancy And why will you ſtill add to my miſery: it is you that now makes me wretched: had you not ſo compaſſiona ſiſted me in this my diſmal cala- mity with ſo much tenderneſs, I then willingly ſhould have left this hateful world, without thinking of you? but why muſt I make you the wretched partner of my misfortunes? It is that adds to my uneaſineſs. O that I had not ſeen you in theſe my laſt moments! Sally, interrupting him, ſaid, Come, talk not of laſt moments; you may yet enjoy many happy years ; your colonel has promiſed to uſe his utmoſt endea. vours to preſerve your life. I do not flatter myſelf with anything of that kind, ſays he, but if ſuch a ſhould happen, I am fully reſolved not to tarry in England, which has brought upon me ſo dire miſhaps. he colº t m PHILIP . QUAR d L. * 1 55 as ſoon as come down, cries out, So colonel, what brings you here ſo ſoon 2 Did you come to break- faſt with me? the colonel ſeeing him ſo facetious and F. told him his meſſage. My lord, as ſoon as he heard it, anſwered, that upon his honour, he cer- tainly would grant his requeſt; and made him ſtay to breakfaſt with him. . . As ſoon as breakfaſt was over, he took leave of his lordſhip, and away he comes to bring the tidings. to Quarll, whom he found alone, Sally having juſt left him. The colonel told him, he was ſorry to ſee him there, with other compliments uſual in ſuch caſes : and related to him the ſucceſs he had with my lord Danby: ſo deſired him to be of good cheer. Quarll fell at his feet, and expreſſing his gratitude in the moſt thankful terms imaginable; telling him, his life ſhould always be at his ſervice. His colonel, raiſing him up, told him he was very well ſatisfied : and, after a little more converſation, left him. Sally, in the mean time, was not idle ; for ſhe went sh piece of plate, and preſented it to he might favour Quarll in his re- y: which had the defired effect: the recorder, th port to his Majeſt for, when the death- W. lays after my lord Danby pro- ious pardon; which his PHILIP QUARLL. very much damaged in the late ſtorm ; but about twelve o’clock the ſame night we came thither, a moſt violent hurricane blew in upon us, broke our cables and drove us aſhore; where again I loſt th ſhip and cargo, bi the men ſaved : thus I thin} I have been unfortunate ; but ſince they are paſt, n ink of them: we ſhall have a pleaſant voyage u ſay you have a mind to refide at . , where I muſt touch in my return, I would have tou lay out your money in the woollen manufacture and cutlery ware, w every good commoditie in thoſe parts. Qua § and parted with him. 158 PHILIP QUARLL. before the wind, in order to avoid being taken by thoſe infidels, who purſued them from four o’clock on Friday morning, till ten at night the following Sunday, at which time there aroſe a ſtorm; the ſky looked very black, the wind being at north-weſt, and clouds began to riſe and move towards them, having hung all the morning in the horizon: ſo that they took in their topſails, and furled their main-ſail : the ſea ran very ſhort and broke in upon their deck; how- ever, they put right before the wind, and ſailed ſo for three weeks, when the de Cape Horn ; they had no ſooner got round the Cape, but the wind veered to the ſouth, and it fell flat calm ; which con- tinued for two days, when the wind ſprung up at ſouth-weſt, and they ſcudded before the wind very ſwift, and made an iſland whoſe name none of them knew, the ſhip having never been on the coaſt before; but there they found wood, water, and herbs of fe- veral forts, ſome ſeals and ſea-fowls. Here they re- freſhed themſelves for four days; and then weighed r, the wind being fair at full ſouth, and traded its on the coaſt of Peru, Chili, and Mexi- t Aquapulco they ſailed, having a freſh . E. They had not ſailed above one e wind veered to the ſouth-weſt, and int gale of wind; and there being a great ſea, ſo that their ſhip took in a great deal of water, the wind continuing two days increaſing to a very great ſtorm, which held for one day and two nights more; during which time they ed themſelves near ſome rocks. The ſtorm rathe reaſing, and ~~~~inº deſpaired of ſaving the ſhip ; PHILIP QUARLL. iss order to cut down what ſtopt the working of the main-yard : but, by that time he was got up, there came a ſea which daſhed the ſhip to ſhatters againſt the rock; and with the violence of the ſhock, flung Quarll, who was aſtride upon the main-yard on the top of the rock ; where, having the good fortune to fall in a cleft, he was hindered from being waſhed back again into the ſea, and drowned as every body were that belonged to the ſhip. Quarll, in a diſmal condition, remained the ſuc- ceeding night in the cleft, being continually beaten with the daſhing back the ſea, and being both bruiſed and numbed, pulled off his clothes which were dropping wet, and ſpread them in the fun ; and being 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 ſlept while his clothes were drying. His ſleep, though very profoun #. d, was not refreſh- *ing : the danger he had been lately in, ſo ran in his mind, that grim death was ever before his eyes; which conſtantly diſturbed his reſt : but nature, wanted repoſe, would be ſupplied, though it be ken. Having ſlept a few hours, he awakes al much fatigued as before, and faint for wal having taken none for thirty-fix having looked upon his clothe eived were not quite dry, he turned th fide to the fun, and laid himſelf down to ſleep ag im. He dreamt he was in a ter the clouds pouring down vaſt ſtreams of liquid fire, and the raging ocean all in flames. In this diſmall condition he knew not what to do; but ſpying ſome land, as he thought at a little d 2% ance from the ſhi P, dron of oil in a blaze, reſolved to try whether he could not jump aſhore; but juſt as he was going to leap, he ſaw a horrid frightful monſter, with glaring eyes, and open mouth run from the boiling fl and make at him to devo 1; which ſcared him he was very much terrified with ſtared about him in a frightful man- every minute ſome creature to devour º jº, tº d ſuch aſpects. oating, a n t sº º e more ter- º miſeries PHILIP QUARLL. 161 ſeeking the ſalvation of my ſoul, I ſhould not have had the preſent opportunity of taking care of it. So, having returned thanks for his late deliverance, he reſigns himſelf to Providence, on whom he fully relies; climbs up the rock, and being come to the top, ſees land at the infide, bearing both trees and graſs: heaven be praiſed ſaid he ; I ſhall not periſh upon the barren rocks : ſo made a ſhift to go down it, the weather then being calm. - sº miraculous aćts being there. PHILIP QUARLL. º t and cool, made, as it were, epoſe, and he being ſtill very much fatigued, prompted him to lie down and ſleep; during w his mind is continually alarmed with the frightfu e rolling waves, ſtretching out his h jouring to keep him r, and ſunk down m men calling f ing, here ſome float 3. # here others expi and having fixed upon one of the higheſt trees, he gets up as far as he well could, fearing ſome wild beaſt might devour him if he º: below: where, having returned thanks to heaven for his late deliver- ance, he commits himſelf to its care ; then ſettles, and falls to ſleep, and ſlept till hunger awaked him in the morning, having dreamt over-night of abundance of vićtuals, which É. fain would have come at, but was ke y a croſs cook, who bid him go and fiſh § which he anſwered that he was ſhip- cked ; and had nothing to fiſh withal. Well then, ſaid the cook to him again, go where thou waſt like to have loſt thy life, and there thou ſhalt find wherewithal to ſupport it. Being awaked he makes refle&tions upon his dream, which, though he imagined it might proceed from the emptineſs of his ſtomach, being cuſtomary for peo- ple to dream of vićtuals, when they go to bed hun- gry, yet at that time it may prove ominous; ſo dri- ven by neceſſity, and led by curioſity, he went to the ſame ſide of the rock he had been caſt upon; where having ſtood ſeveral hours without ſeeing ſhipping, --- that might anſwer his dream ; the air com- ng from the ſea being pretty ſharp, and he faint, having taken no manner of food for near three days, he gave over all hopes of relief. Thus ſubmitting himſelf to the will of heaven, which he ſuppoſed de- creed a lingering death to puniſh him for his paſt fins, he reſolves to return where he lay the night before, and there wait for his doom ; but being ſtopped by a ſudden noiſe which iſſued from a .#. the rock, not far from where he ſtood, he had the curioſity to go and ſee what occaſioned it. & & - º & eing come to the place he heard the noiſe pro, eed he ſees a fine large cod-fiſh near feet long, 166 PHILIP QUARLL. which was lying down; and having much fatigued and haraſſed himſelf in hauling the heavy fiſh up and down the rock, he fell aſleep till the next morning ; during which time his reſt was very much diſturbed with the frightful dream of being attacked by a ter- rible monſter, ſuch as never was heard of, either for bigneſs or grimneſs; which purſued him, till .# gº run himſelf out of breath, he was forced to lie expoſ- ed to his fury; but was prevented being devoured by a grave old gentlewoman of a moſt graceful and ma-. jeſtic countenance, at whoſe ſudden appearance the monſter fled. Having recovered breath, and ſtrength to ſpeak, he returns the old lady thanks for his deli- verance, and begs leave to wait on her home that he might know whither to come and pay his conſtant duty to her for this her late great kindneſs: to which ſhe anſwered, that ſh fixed in no particular ha- bitation, but dwelt at every poor man's houſe; her occupation being to affilt the helpleſs, but not the ſlothful and negligent : that he ſhould ſee her again before it was long. Mean time, ſhe bid him not go on in evil ways, but whenever overtaken not to de- ſpair; for ſhe was always at hand; nevertheleſs ſhe would not have him too depending. And ſo went away, leaving him very eaſy and pleaſed in his mind, that he had eſcaped ſuch vaſt danger. Having ſl ly th he awoke in the morning PHILIP QUARLL. pearance unavoidable, to keep him from deſpair in this his great extremity, promifing to be at hand upon occaſion ; yet would not have him neglect means to get away from a place where want threat- ens him : for though he might for a while ſubfiſt upon fiſh, wherewith he may be ſupplied, being ſurrounded by the ſea, yet he could not imagine which way he could be furniſhed with clothes and bed againſt the winter; for want of which he muſt miſerably periſh with cold, unleſs ſupplied by ſome ſuch diſmal acci- dent as expoſed him to the want thereof, which he heartily j and prays may never happen. , Having made theſe confiderations, he, on his knees, eturns kind Providence his hearty thanks for all his mercies that had been extended to him ; begging the continuance of its aſſiſtance. Then, as he took di rections from his dream, watching the opportunity of sº. away from that melancholy place, he goes her fide of the rock, to try if he could per- to the ot ceive any ſhipping in fight. The wind being pretty high, fed his hopes that each ſucceeding hour would gratify his wiſhing look, with that objećt the preceding night could not bring # forth ; but was diſappointed. The night ing, kept back all probability for that t % ending on better ſucceſs the ne: ce he came ; and being hungr PHILIP QUARLL. ed with the dread of thoſe hardſhips he muſt proba- bly undergo, if obliged to continue there all winter, ſo ran in his mind, that they occaſioned ideas ſuitable to thoſe he had formed the day before: and cold be- ng the greateſt of his fears, it is alſo the principal that he was in a ſpacious place, paved with of a prodigious bigneſs, and ſurrounded h mountains of ice, which echoed with ſhiv- he farther end § plexion w PHILIP QUARLL. could have with that ſurly moroſe old fellow; when liſtening a while, he perceived ſhe was aſking boons. of him in the behalf of a vaſt number of all forts of creatures that attended her at ſome diſtance behind, which he refuſed in a moſt churliſh manner ; and as ſhe ſtill perfiſted in her ſuit, following him up and down, the ill-natured old man ſlily ſteps to the froſty mountain, and pulls down a large clod of j. ſtopped a gap therein, whence came a crea- ture made and featured > - º:... ::::: ſtrous fize and frightful aſpect; his exceſſive broad cheeks hanging down on each fide of his long piked belly hung down looking juſt like a ſail without wind. That monſter was no ſooner out, but from the ſpiteful old man to drive away and all her attendants; which word of command wa no ſooner given, but it was put in execution. Having filled his ſhrivelled jaws with wind, which then out like ſo many kettle-drums, he falls a blow upon one of the hills of ſnow, and turns it into ath ſhower, which he drove with violence agai angel-lik º fled for ſh a thi helter. ~ - º This barbarous treatment to the moſt deſervin creatures put him in amaze; to whom the ğ.º. (ſeeing he did not go with the g, Doſt thou put me to del h I ke a man, but of a mon- & chin, like two empty bladders; and his prepoſterous - had orders the woman, w lve with violence againſt that e creature, and her clients, who immediately Con tin . he rig he calls to mind, that PHILIP QUARLL. thick: the place being fixed upon, he hews down ſome trees that grew in his way, and clears a ſpot of ground about twelve feet ſquare, leaving one tree ſtanding at each corner; and with the young plants he provided the day before, filled the diſtance between quite round, ſetting them about fix inches aſunder, leaving a larger vacancy for the door : his incloſure being made, he bends the branches a-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 thick- er: having finiſhed the top, he goes about cloſing the fides; for which purpoſe, taking large branches, he ſtrips off their ſmall twigs and weaves them between º hey do É. ſheep-pens, then made a rd work : now, ſaid he, here is a houſe, e furniture ? This, indeed, may keep PHILIP QUARLL. am, by Providence, doomed to remain here ; ſo paſ ing at his return, to cut down a ſuf quantity of it to make mats that might ſe ſtead of bed and bed-clothes, . Having looked hir leaſt pi ~ ºlº is a , ſuch want of, a ther was yet wa ployed the remº ſucceeding, h cut withal. T to ſpread and tur next tree, which, ha about it, all but part made a tolerable fork 174 PHILIP QUARLL. that he had put him in a way to provide himſelf with bread, and that of a moſt delicious kind. As ſoon therefore as he had dined, he went out on purpoſe to dig 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, crawl- ing before him : heaven be praiſed ſaid he, here is what will ſupply me both with vićtuals, and utenfils to dreſs it in : he ran therefore, and turned it on its back, to keep it from getting away, whilſt he went to fetch his hatchet, that he might cut the bottom ſhell from the top, in order to make a kettle of the deepeſt, and a diſh of the flat part. N. Being tired of cod-fiſh, he dreſſes the tortoiſe, an animal ſeldom eaten but upon extremity, the fleſh ºthereof often giving the flux : nevertheleſs he ventur- ed upon it, and liked it extremely, ſome part of it eating very much like veal; which at that time was a very great novelty to him, having eaten no freſh at for a long time before. Happening to eat of the part of the tortoiſe which is the moſt feeding, and leſs hurtful, he was in no wife diſcompoſed; but, having boiled it -3. 2 w 3, ... taking tº gº, PHILIP QUARLL. 175 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 bigneſs of his leg ; then he cuts a pretty number of a.i. about two feet long, which he drives in the ground, ten in a row, and near four inches aſunder, and oppoſite to them ſuch another row at fix or ſeven feet diſtance from the firſt, which made the length of his mat; then having faſtened one end of his rope, to one of the corner ſticks, he brings it round the other corner ſtick, and ſo to the next at the other end, till he has laid his frame : then he weaves acroſs ſhorter ropes of the ſame, in the man- ner they make pallions on board with old cable-ends. When he had finiſhed his mat, he beat it with a lon ſtick, which made it ſwell up ; and the graſs being of a ſoft cottony nature, he had a warm and eaſy bed to lie on. - - - The comfort and pleaſure he found on his ſoft mat (being grown fore with lying on the ground for the ſpace of a month and more) ſo liberally gratified him for the time and labour he had beſtowed in making it, that it gave him encouragement to go about ano- ther; a covering being the next neceſſary wanted; though the weather was as yet pretty warm, and a great meaſure, ſeaſoned by the hardſhips he ine through ; yet the winter approaching, and the preſent ſeaſon ſtill favourable for him to make pro- againſt it, he goes and cuts more graſs; being made ready for uſe, he lengthens his loo allow for rolling up at one end, inſtead of a bolſt; and makes it §: than the firſt ; which he i tends, in cold weather, ſhall lie upon him inſt Being provided with the moſt neceſſa wanted, he thinks on more conv 76 PHILIP QUARLL. ing to make himſelf a table to eat his vićtuals upon, and a chair to fit on , having cut ſeveral ſticks about four feet long, rives them in a row a • ------ *- : *. § then takes ſmaller, whi way in the s … nterweaves n: having made the top, he it upon four other ſticks, forky at the upper end, g ſtuck in the ground at one ſide of his bar- the height of a table; this being done, he º lches, ſuch as he judged would : and back of a chair, which he ound near his table; and having 1. , which grew to them, with from back to front, and acroſs again, he aller between, bottoming his ſeat; which Awar. r ſucceeds, of a far ing, ſaid he, to ſhel- d to reſt this poor ſupport it? here PHILIP QUARLL. 177, Now being entirely reconciled to the ſtate of life Providence, on whom he fully depended, had been pleaſed to call him to, he reſolves to make proviſion of thoſe excellent roots ; and with his hatchet he cuts a piece off a tree, wherewith he makes a ſhovel, in order to dig them up with more eaſe : with this inſtrument he went to the place where he had obſerv- ed they grew thickeſt, which being near the mon- keys’ quarters, they came down from off the trees in great numbers, grinning as if they would have flown at him; which made him ſtop a while; he might in- deed, with the inſtrument in his hand, have killed ſe. veral, and perhaps have diſperſed the reſt: but would not : why, ſaid he, ſhould I add barbarity to in- juſtice; it is but natural and reaſonable for every creature to guard and defend their own ; thi given them by nature for food, which I them of ; and fince I am obliged to get my ſubſiſtence, if I am decreed to be here another ſeaſon, I will ſet ſome in a place diſtant from theirs for my own uſe. ..º.º. . . . . . º. . . . . *:: * : 33 Having ſtood a confiderable time, thoſe animals ſeeing he did not go forwards, each went and ſcratch- ed up for itſelf, afterwards retiring: 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 ſmall heaps as he dug them up; while thoſe ſly creatures would, whilſt he was digging up º-2 § * g the leaves, and ſteal them away : N. wh ing thoſe anima 17s PHILIP QUARLL. " turally very cum ſhould dig them up, he comes the morning following to make for want of a ſack to put them in, ket, which he buttons up, and ties and as he had obſerved that every root had of little off-ſets hanging at it by ſm º " ed off his ſhirt alſo, of which he makes anot to put them in. Being naked, all but his breeches, and the d ... ſ. and fill . k r but ſho PHELIP QUARLL. 179 often renders him ridiculous to the reſt of man - --s th Man, which now appeared in the ſtate he was firſt created in, and undiſguiſed by clothes, renew an image of that reſpect he has forfeited by his fatal tranſgreſſion, which ever fince obliged him to hide the beauty of his fabric under a gaudy diſguiſe, . *** k- and generally obnoxious to all other creatures, # ing a pride of what he ought to be aſhamed of: adds he, fince my clothes bred the antipathy, I will remove that cauſe, which will ſuit both the nature of thoſe animals, and my own, circumſtances. From that time he reſolves to go naked, till the hardneſs of the weather obliged him to put ſomething on. ked up a ſufficient quantity of off-ſets to wo acres of land, he retur for thoſe poor animals, which attended h he was at work, without off bl ~ ** **** orth. work abou time to 18o PHILIP QUARLL. and cluſters of houſes, with here and there a high ſteeple ſtanding above the other buildings; another place claiming a near reſemblance to a diſtant ſqua- dron of men of war in a line of battle ; further, it bears a compariſon with the dull remains of ſome ſumptuous edifice, ruined by the often repeated ſhocks of time, inciting the beholders to condolence for the loſs of its former beauty. At ſome diſtance from thence the proſpect of a demoliſhed city is preſented to the fight; in another place larger ſtones placed 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 chamomile, and here and there a cluſter of trees, com- poſing moſt agreeable groves, amongſt a vaſt number of fine lofty trees of divers heights and ſhapes, which ſtood more diſtant, whoſe irregularity, added much to the delightfulneſs of the place. - As he was walking on, admiring all theſe wonder- rks of nature, having caught cold (not being go naked) he happened to ſneeze oppoſite to a the rock, which hollowed in, after the man- leneſs of the ſurpri les a ſecond time, by PHILIP QUARLL. 181 if he had been in company with numbers of ſkilful and celebrated choriſters. 2 - Having ſpent a confiderable time there with much pleaſure, he proceeds in his walk, being reſolved to make that his place of worſhip for the future, and at- tended it twice a day conſtantly. - About three or four hundred paces farther, havin turned on the other ſide of the getting-out part .# the rock, he was ſtopt a ſecond time by another ſur- priſing product of nature; a large ſtone, growing out of the rock, advancing quite over the lake at the bottom of it, repreſenting ſomething of a human ſhape, out of the breaſt whereof iſſued a fountain of exceeding clear water, as ſweet as milk, and, when looked at fronting, was like an antique piece of archi- tecture, which in old times they built over particular ſprings ; and on the other fide appeared as if ſpring- ing out of the noſtrils of a ſea-horſe : theſe three ſo , very different, and yet compared likeneſſes, being of- fered by one and the ſame unaltered objećt, made him curious to examine what parts of every reſemblance helped to make out the others : and having ſpent a confiderable time in the examination, he found every thing which the front had likeneſs of, was employed in making the ſide-repreſentation, by being in ſome places ſhortened, and others lengthened, according to the point of fight. * . Being ſatisfied about that ſubjećt, he enters up another as puzzling : the baſon, in which the foun- tain ram, which was about five yards diſtant from whence the water did ſpring, being but about nine feet y way, without any viſible place to evacuate impliment, and yet keeping the ſame height without daſhing or running over, although the ſtream that fell into it ran as big as his wriſt. Having a 182 PHILIP QUARLL. long time ſearched into the cauſe, without any ſatis- faction, he conjećtures it muſt make its way out ſome- where underground ; ſo went on, till he came to the place, he had begun his march at, which ended that day’s work. - . . Having been round the iſland, which to the beſt of his judgment, was about ten or eleven miles in cir- cumference, of an oblong form, going in and out in ſeveral places, extending from north to ſouth, the ſouth end near twice as broad as the oppoſite; he reſolves to employ the next day in viewing the inſide. . - Then recommending himſelf to Providence, as he never failed to do, both morning and evening, he goes to bed; but not being ſleepy, the over ačtive ãº, in man roves from one ſubjećt to another: his mind runs from his preſent ſtation to his former, re- aſſuming his paſt pleaſures, which he never muſt hope to meet with again, and calls in all the evils his preſent condition of life lays him expoſed to. Theſe dull thoughts, quite diſlodge his late born hopes of heaven’s affiſtance, and ſhakes his future dependance on Providence : he ſnarls and quarrels with his fate, and repines at his condition ; which not being in his power to mend, he wiſhes for eternal ſleep, to free #. mind of tumults and cares, which crowd upon him. . $: . Sleep was granted him, but not reſt : his repining is chaſtiſed with terrifying dreams of the puniſhment he had been condemned to ; all his paſt troubles come upon him in the moſt grievous and ſhocking manner they could appear; his raging wives at once fall upon him, exerting their utmoſt malice and revenge, which he cannot avoid, but by embracing either an ignomi- mious death, or a ſevere and vile bondage. Theſe PHILIP QUARLL. 183 terrible aſpects put him in the ſame pains and agony, as if already feeling the aſſigned torment. 8. Having in his dream, with hard ſtrugglings, eſcap- ed death, he finds himſelf in an exceeding hot coun- try, his half naked body continually bending to the hard and dry ground, grabbling round a nauſeous weed for fulſome worms, every now and then laſhed by a croſs and ſevere taſk-maſter; who hurries him to work : in this great perplexity he cries out, Oh, that I had ended my woeful days at the ſhameful gibbet ! ſure it would have been a milder fate At which he awaked in ſuch a conſternation, that it was ſeveral minutes before he could be thoroughly ſatis- fied it was but a dream. Having recalled his diſperſ- ed ſenſes, he made this refle&tion: that it really was the penalty that he had been ſentenced to, and by Providence preſerved from. Setting then his preſent condition in oppoſition to that, he acknowledges his ingratitude, for which he ſecretly repents, and on his knees, with weeping eyes, aſks pardon, imploring the continuance of Providence’s protection ; reſolv- ing for the future, never to think or wiſh to change that ſtate of life it had pleaſed heaven to place him in ; wholly dedicating the remains of his days to God’s worſhip: holding henceforth, as ineſtimable, the happineſs of being freed from thoſe cares, which daily flew on them who are concerned with the world which might cool or ſlacken his duty to ſo great a benefactor . Having entirely reſigned himſelf to the wi caſts off all cares, and baniſhes from h ld create any ; reſolving to e N. ºran between the intervals of time ed to divine worſhip, in the contemplat 184 PHILIP QUARLL. %. the many wonderful works of nature, manifeſted in ſuch various manners all over the iſland. * So he walks along the land, which he found very level, covered with a delightful green graſs, and adorn- ed with trees of divers forts, ſhapes, and height, in- habited with ſeveral ſorts of finging birds, of various colours and notes, which entertained him with their melodious harmony : in ſome places ſtood a cluſter of trees compoſing agreeable and delightful groves, proceeding from only one main body whoſe lower branches being come to a certain length applied to the earth for immediate nouriſhment, as it were, to eaſe the old ſtem that produced them ; and ſo became a plant and did the ſame. - Having for ſome time admired the agreeableneſs and curioſity of the plant by which nature ſeemed to give human-kind inſtrućtions; and looking about, if perchance he could find any thing in his way for his own proper uſe ; he took along with him a ſample of every different herb he thought eatable. Croſſing the iſland in ſeveral places, he comes at a moſt delight- ful pond, about two hundred yards in length, and one hundred and fifty wide, with fine trees ſpreading their branchy limbs over its brink, which was ſurrounded with a beautiful bank, covered with divers kinds of flowers and herbs, ſo naturally intermixed, which com- pleted it in ornament and conveniency, as though in- tend r more than mortals' uſe. . . . . . . . Having walked ſeveral times around it, with much pleaſure he ſat down awhile upon its bank, to admire the clearneſs of the water, through which, to his great comfort, he w gneſſes. he aw many di ferent forts of fiſh, of various ſhapes, and colours : Heaven be praiſed 1. e is a ſtock of freſh-water fiſh to ſ º if the ſea ſhould fail me. PHILIP QUARLL. 185 Being ſufficiently diverted with their chaſing one another, which were of many beautiful and different. colours, and made a moſt delightful ſcene, he pro- ceeds in his walk, and goes to the ſouth of the iſland, where he finds another ſubject of admiration; a noble and ſpacious wood, whoſe ſhades ſeemed to be for the abode of peace and pleaſure : he walked round it with much delight, which made the time ſeem ſhort; yet he could gueſs it to be no leſs than two miles about. Having viewed the outſide, whoſe extraordinary agreeableneſs excited in him an unſurmountable deſire to get into it. But here he was afraid to venture, left there might be deſtructive creatures; yet, having recommended himſelf to the care of Providence, he ventured into it, finding ſeveral pleaſant walks, ſome ſtraight, edged with lofty trees, as though planted for pleaſure ; others crooked and winding, bordered with a thick edge of pimentos, which caſt a moſt fragrant , ſmell; here and there a cluſter of buſhes and dwarf- trees, wherein ſheltered ſeveral kinds of wild beaſts and fowls. Sure, ſaid he, this iſland never was in- tended by nature to lie waſte, but rather reſerved to be the happy abode of ſome, for whom heaven had a particular bleſfing in ſtore: here is everything ſuffici- ent, not only for the ſupport, but alſo for the plea- ſure of life; heaven make me thankful that I am the happy inhabitant of ſo bleſſed a land. Being hungry, and tired with walking, he goes home, in order to get ſome vićtuals, and, having made . a fire, he boils a #. his ſalt fiſh with ſome roots; and then the herbs he brought with him, which prov- ed of divers taſtes, and all excellent ; ſome eating like artichokes, others like aſparagus and ſpinage. Now, ſaid he, what can I wiſh for more ?' here I * 186 PHILIP QUARLí. º poſſeſs a plentiful land, which produces both fowls, 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 often proves more prejudicial to the aćtor, than diverting to the beholder; eaſe and in- dulgence are apt to breed the gout, and various diſ- tempers, which make the rich more wretched than the poor: now theſe evils, thanks to my Maker, I itand in no danger of, having but what is ſufficient, which never can do any harm. Thus thoroughly eaſy in his mind, he propoſes to ſpend the afternoon at the outfide of the rock, in viewing the ſea and looking for oyſters; ſo takes in his hand his long ſtaff 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 before, he ſees at a diſtance, ſomething like linen hanging upon it ; which, when come at, he found to be the main-ſail of a ſhip, with a piece of the yard faſtened to it: alas! ſaid he, diſmal token of inſatiable ambition which makes men often loſe their lives in ſeeking what they ſeldom find ; and, if they ever do, it is commonly attended with a world of care. Happy is he who limits his defires to his ability ; aſpiring not above his reach, and is, con- 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 ºº::::::: * : 3:3: . of it for want of another ſtring) Heaven be praiſed, , ſaid he, this is no effect of another ſhipwreck, but a t of the unfortunate ſhip, whoſe loſs was ption ; which refle&tion made him ſhed tented with what ed the ſail in pieces, he rolls them up PHILIP QUARLL. 187 in ſuch bundles as he could conveniently carry, and lays them down till he had got a few oyſters, pro- ceeding to grope in holes with his ſtick as he went Oſlº - - - - --> . X:::: . About forty paces farther he finds a cheſt in a cleft - of the rock, which had been waſhed up there by the violence of the late ſtorm: Heaven ſaid he, more fa- tal effects of fate’s cruelty, and man’s temerity Was the ſea made for men to travel on 2 Is there not land enough for his rambling mind to rove 2 Muſt he hunt after dangers, and put death to defiance : What is the owner of this the better for it now ! Or who can be the better in a place ſo remote, and the acceſs to it ſo difficult Being not to be approached but on the wings of Providence, and over the back of death. Now, was this full of maſſy gold, or yet richer things, I thank my God I am above the uſe of it; yet I will take it home : it was ſent hither by Provi- dence, perhaps for the relief of ſome ſo neceſſitated and deſtitute. 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 w by de- grees. Having taken as much of the fail-cloth as he got, he went home, and fetched the tool, wherewith could conveniently carry, with the few oyſters he had he wrenched the cheſt open, from which he took a ſuit of clothes, and ſome wearing linen; theſe, ſaid he, neither the owner nor I want; ſo laid them down: the next thing he took out, was a roll of fe- veral ſheets of parchment, being blank indentures and leaſes; theſe, ſaid he, are inſtruments of the law, and ofte . miſchievous he 's mercies, and Provid e º ne; ſo inſtead of being the ruin of ſo pplied to injuſtice; but I will alter their properties, and make them records of nce's wonderful libe- 188 PHILIP QUARLL. they may chance to be the reclaiming of others. At the bottom of the cheſt lay a rundlet of brandy, a Cheſhire cheeſe, a leather bottle full of ink, with a parcel of pens and a penknife : as for theſe, ſaid he, they are of uſe; the pens, ink, and parchments have equipped me to keep a journal, which will di- vert and paſs away a few anxious hours: as for the cheeſe and brandy, they will but cauſe me new cares : before 1 had them I wanted them not ; now the benefit and comfort I ſhall find in them, when gone, will make me hanker after them; I wiſh I had ftill been without them; but now they are here, it would be a fin to let them be loſt. I will take them. home, and will only uſe them at my need ; which will make them hold out the longer, and me grow leſs fond of them. w tº 3. . 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 leiſure, peruſe his paſt tranſačtions, and the many mercies he had received from heaven ; and that, after his deceaſe whoever is direéted thither by Providence, upon read- ing his wonderful eſcapes in the greateſt of dangers; his miraculous living, when remote from human affiſt- ance; in the like 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 ſay), to the day of his being caſt away, which happened on the tenth of July, 1675, being then twenty-eight years of age, reſolving to continue it to his death. Thus having written the preceding account of the ſhipwreck, and what had befallen him fince, to the finding of the cheſt which was on the fifteenth of Sep- tember, 1675, he proceeds: but calling to mind his laſt PHILIP QUARLL. 189 dream but one, which did warn him to make proviſion againſt winter, and the ſeaſon .# pretty far advanc- ed, he gathers a ſtore of fuel and roots; begins to line the outfide of his barrack with a wall of turf, and lays the ſame at the top, to keep out the wet ; and as he now and then found ſmall ſhell-fiſh and oyſters upon the rock, he makes a bridge over the lake, which in warm weather he uſed to wade, that in the winter he might go over dry : ſo, having completed his bridge, which was made of two ſtrong poles, reaching from the land to the rock, and ſeveral leſſer branches laid acroſs pretty cloſe, he retires home, the day being far ſpent: the following night, being the eighteenth of September, there aroſe a violent ſtorm, attended with dreadful claps of thunder, which the many echoes from the rock rendered more terrible; and lightnings flaſhing in a moſt frightful manner, ſuc- ceeding each other, before the preceding was well out of the ſky, which put poor loneſome Quarll in a conſternation that (notwithſtanding his reliance on heaven’s protećtion) he would have given the world (had it been in his poſſeſſion) to have been within the reach of human aſſiſtance; ſolitude adding much to his terror and afflićtion. . . . . § ... The glorious riſing of the next morning’s ſun hav- ing laid the mortifying rage of the bluſtering winds, Quarll, whoſe late alarm was hardly quelled, ſtill ſuſ- Pećting its moſt reviving rays to be terrifying glances and flaſhes of lightning; but having lain awhile, and hearing no noiſe, but that which ſtill raged in his mind, was at laſt convinced the ſtorm was over; and to gets up with a reſolution to go and ſee if he c % n any effect of the late tempeſt. Being come to the other fide of the indeed, ſurpriſing objects, H; 190 PHILIP QUARLL. chief that was done, being the inhabitants of the ſea only, a vaſt number of which had, by the wind, been diſ-elemented; a quantity of ſtately whitings, fine mackerels, large herrings, divers fizes of codlings, and ſeveral other ſorts of fiſh, with a great number of ſhells, of different ſhapes and bigneſſes, lying up and down upon the rock. Heaven be praiſed I ſaid he, inſtead of damage to bewail, what thanks have I now to return for this mighty benefit ! Here the power- ful agent of miſchief is, by kind Providence, made a miniſter of good to me : make me thankful I am now provided for all the next winter; and yet long- er; by which time I am certain to have a freſh ſupply. * He who, when in diſtreſs, To GOD makes his addreſs, And his bounties implore; Is ſure and may depend, That relief he will fend, And at need help the poor. Thus having taken up as many fiſh as he could hold in his arms, he carries them home, and brings his ſhirt, which he uſed inſtead of a ſack : ſo, at ſeveral times, he brought away all the fiſh, and as many of the ſhells as he had occaſion for ; of ſome of which he made boilers and ſtew-pans, of others diſhes and plates; ſome he kept water in, and others š lowing verſes to be the effect of my own brain, Iſo- proteſt, they are what I found in his memoirs, lemnly proteſt, the written with his own hand. . . . PHILIP QUARLL. 191 fiſh in pickle; ſo that he was ſtocked with neceſſary veſſels as well as proviſion. Being very weary with often going backwards and forwards with his fiſh, which took up all that day to bring them home, he fits down to reſt himſelf; and the rundlet of brandy lying by, he was tempted to take a ſup, which was at that time very much wanted, his ſpirits being very low : but was loth to taſte it, leſt he ſhould grow fond of the liquor, and grieve after it when gone: ſome moments were ſpent before he could come to a reſolution : at laſt having confidered the uſe of it, which ſuited the preſent oc- caſion, he concludes to take a dram, and to uſe it like a cordial, as it was firſt intended for ; but the veſſel, out of which he drank, being at his mouth, the cordial turns to a nećtar ; and one gulp decoys another down; ſo the intended dram becomes a hearty draught. The pleaſantneſs of the liquor made him forget its nature; ſo that poor, Quarll, who had for the ſpace of near three months before, drank nothing but water, was preſently overcome with the ſtrength of the brandy, and fell aſleep in his chair, with the rundlet on, his bare lap, from whence it ſoon fell to the ground, and being unſtopt ran all out. w Being awakened with hunger, having ſlept from . evening till almoſt noon of another day, º he knew not whether the ſucceeding or the next to it; ſeeing what had happened, he was forely vexed, and could have wept at the accident; but, confidering the li- Quor which occaſioned it, might perhaps, in time, have cauſed greater miſchief, he reconciled with the loſs, but could not with that of the right order of the days, which having entirely forgot, hindered the going on of his journal ; ſo was obliged to make only a memorial. That damage being repaired, another 192 PHILíP QUARLL. appears of a far greater conſequence; the Sunday is loſt, which he had ſo carefully obſerved to that time: how can that be made up 2 Now, ſaid he, ſhall I daily be in danger of breaking the ſabbath, knowing not the day. Oh, fatal liquor that ever thou wert invented to cauſe ſo much miſchief Murder, adul- teries, and blaſphemies, are daily, by thy moſt per- nicious uſe, occaſioned. But why ſhould I lay the blame upon the uſe, when it is the abuſe that does the hurt? and exclaim againſt a thing, which being taken in moderation, is of ſo great a benefit, reviv- ing a fainting heart, raiſing finking ſpirits, warming cold and decayed nature, and aſſuaging ſeveral pains: ſo blames himſelf highly for gratifying his appetite with that wherewith he only ought to i. refreſhed nature; and fince that often miſguided faculty had prompted him to commit the fault, he dedicated that day, in which he became ſenſible of it, to prayers and faſting : and every ſeventh, from that he ſets apart for divine worſhip only, which he hoped would keep him from breaking the commandments, for keep- ing holy the ſabbath-day ; it being not certain, that the day appointed by the church for that purpoſe, was the very day God hath ſanétified for reſt : ſo went to the place where the echoes, in many different and melodious founds, repeated his thankſgivings to the Almighty, which he had fixed upon to pay his devotion, a re ſpent the reſt of the day in pray- ers, and ſing pſalms. . . . . ... º. 3. … The next morning, having breakfaſted with ſome of his uſual b w sº |al bread, and a ſlice of the cheeſe he found *::: º sº º out curing nis * - aid by as many, for the preſent PHILIP QUARLL. 193 proves the fair weather to dry one part of the remain- der, and keeps the reſt in pickle. The winter being near at hand, and the weather growing damp and cold, hinders him from his walks; ſo being confined within doors, he employs his idle hours in beautifying his utenſils, which were not to. be uſed on the fire, and beſtowed ſome pains in ſcrap- ing and poliſhing the reſt of his ſhells, ſome as fine as though they had been nakes of pearl ; which made them not only more fit for their intended uſes, but alſo a great ornament to his barrack, which he ſhelv- ed round with plaited twigs after the manner of his table, and ſo ſet them upon it. º - Thus he ſpent the beſt part of the winter, making no further remarks, but that it was very ſharp, at- tended with high winds, abundance of hail and ſnow, which obliged him to make a broom to ſweep it away from about his hut, which otherwiſe would have been damaged by it. % But ſhivering winter, having exhauſted his froſty ſtores, and weary with vexing nature, retired. Boreas alſo, grown faint with hard blowing, is forced to re- treat into his cave; gentle Zephyrus (who till then kept up in his temperate cell) now comes forth to uſher in the blooming ſpring; ſo mildly ſlips on to inform nature of her favourite’s approach, who at the joyful news put on her gay enamelled garb and out of her rich wardrobe ſupplies all vegetables with new veſture, to welcome the moſt lovely gueſt. The fea- thered choriſters alſo receive new ſtrength; their ten- der lungs are repaired from the injuries the foggy and miſty air did occaſion; and, thus revived, are placed inious notes. lſo, whom bad weather had confined with- 194 PHILIP QUARLL. in doors a confiderable time, which had in a great meaſure numbed his limbs, and dulled his ſenſes, now finds himſelf quite revived : he no longer can keep within ; the fair weather invites him out ; the ſing- ing birds on every ſide call to him; nature itſelf fetches him out, to behold her treaſures. Ž Having with unſpeakable pleaſure walked ſome time, diverted with the ſweet melody of various kinds of finging birds, and the fight of abundance of dif- ferent ſorts of bloſſomed trees and blooming flowers; all things within the iſland inſpired joy ; he had the curioſity to go and view the ſea: ſo goes over his bridge ; and then, at the other ſide of the rock, where he finds more obječts, requiring as much ad- miration, but affording a great deal leſs pleaſure ; vaſt mountains of ice, floating up and down, threat- ening all that came in their way. Theſe terrible effects of the winter, which to that time he was a ſtranger to, occaſioned his making theſe reflections: He, who on billows roves, riches or wealth to gain, Is ever in danger, and labours oft in vain ; If fortune on him ſmiles, giving his toil ſucceſs, Each day new cares ariſe, which mar his happineſs. The only treaſure, then, worth laying up in ſtore } Isla 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-eaſt ſide of the rock, at the foot of which lay an extraordinary large whale, which the late high wind had caſt there, and died for want of water. If this, ſaid he, is all the damage that has been done laſt winter, it may be borne + ſo PHILIP QUARLL. 195 went down and meaſured the length of it, which was about thirty yards, and proportionable in bigneſs : there were ſhoals of ſmall fiſhes ſwimming about it in the ſhallow water wherein it lay, as rejoicing at its death : thus, ſaid he, the oppreſſed rejoice at a ty- rant’s fall. What numbers of theſe have been de- ſtroyed to make this monſtrous bulk of fat . Well, happy are they, who, like me, are under Heaven’s government only. So with his knife, which he al- ways carried in his pocket, cuts ſeveral ſlices off the whale, and throws them to the ſmall fiſhes, ſaying, it is but juſt you ſhould, at laſt, feed on that which ſo long fed on you : and as oil ran in abundance from the place he had cut the ſlices out of, it vexed him to ſee that waſted, which might turn to good money: but why, ſaid he, ſhould 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 ſtaff, which he always walked with. % Having at laſt found a hole, where by their rat- tling at the bottom with his ſtaff, he judged there might be a pretty many, he marks the place, and goes home to contrive ſome inſtrument 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 requiſite to make a rake, which was wanting for that purpoſe ; he beats out the end of his cheſt, in which there was a knot; ſo having driven it out, he faſtens the ſmall end of a pole to it. Thus equipped, he went and raked up oyſters, which added one diſh to his ordi- nary, and ſauce to others; yet at length his ſtomach growing qualmiſh with eating altogether fiſh, and drinking nothing but water withal, he wiſhes he could have a little fleſh, which he might eaſily, there R 2 - 196 PHILIP QUARLL. being animals 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 ſome time, whe- ther or no it would be injuſtice for him (who only by a providential accident was brought thither to ſave his life) now to deſtroy thoſe creatures, to whom na- ture has given a being, in a land out of man’s reach to diſturb : yet nature requires what ſeems to be againſt nature for me to grant: I am faint and like to grow worſe, the longer I abſtain from fleſh. Having pauſed awhile; why, ſaid he, ſhould I be ſo ſcrupulous 2 were not all things created for the uſe of man 2 Now, whether is it not worſe to let a man eriſh, than to deſtroy any other creature for his re- # ? Nature craves it, and Providence gives it : . not to uſe it in neceſſity, is undervaluing the ‘I 't. > º - -- % - - . º 8 So, having concluded upon catching ſome of thoſe animals he had ſeen in the wood, he confiders by what means, having no dogs to hunt, nor guns to ſhoot: having pauſed awhile, he reſolves upon making gins, wherewith he had ſeen hares catched in Europe: thus, taking ſome of the cords which he found with the ſail at the outfide of the rock, he goes to work, and makes ſeveral, which he faſtens, at divers gaps in the thickſet, within the wood, through which he judged that ſort of beaſt he had a mind for went. *- Impatient to know the ſucceſs of his ſnares, he gets up betime the next morning, and goes to examine them; in one of which he found a certain animal ſomething 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 º PHILIP QUARLL. 197 immediately opened, to ſee if he could find out whe- ther it fed upon graſs, or lived upon prey, the crea- ture being caught by the neck, and ſtrangled with ſtruggling, before it died had brought up in its throat ſome of the greens it had been eating, which very much pleaſed 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 dreſs part of it for his dinner: ſo caſes and guts it: but it proving to be a female, big with three young ones, grieved him to the heart, and made him repent making thoſe killing nooſes: what pity, ſaid he, ſo many lives ſhould be loſt, and crea- tures waſted One would have ſerved me four days; and here are four killed at once. Well, henceforth, to prevent the like evil, I will take alive what I juſt want, and ſave all the females. So, having ſtuck a long ſtick at both ends in the ground, making a half circle, he hangs one quarter of the animal upon a ſtring before a good fire, and ſo roaſts it. - #, dinner being ready, having ſaid grace, he ſet to eating with an uncommon appetite; and whether it was the novelty of the diſh, or that the meat did really deſerve the praiſe, 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 purſuant to his reſolution, he goes about making nets, in order to take his game alive for the future; and as he had no ſmall twine to make them with, he was obliged to un- ravel ſome of the ſail which he luckily had by him ; and with the thread twiſt ſome of the bigneſs he judged proper for that uſe. ; R 3 198 PHILIP QUARLL. Having made a ſufficient quantity, he makes a cou- ple of nets, about four feet ſquare, which he faſtens in the room of the killing ſnares, ſo retired, and re- ſolved to come and examine them every morning. Several days paſſed without taking any thing, ſo that he wanted fleſh a whole week; which did begin to diſorder his ſtomach but not his temper : being entirely refigned to the will of Providence, and fully contented with whatever heaven was pleaſed to ſend. One afternoon, which was not his cuſtomary 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 full dimenſions thereof, ſo chanc- ed 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 upright and ſtraight, the ſhape like a ſtag and moſt curiouſly limbed, a ſmall tuft of hair on each ſhoulder and hip. By their horns, which were but ſhort, they appeared to be very young, which rejoiced him the more, being in hopes to tame- thoſe he did not want for preſent uſe; ſo carried them home, joyful of his game, depending upon a good dinner; but was ſadly diſappointed: the animals he found were antelopes (calling to mind he had ſeen them in his travels) which proved both females, he had made a reſolution to preſerve. Though they were too young to be with kid, and he in great need of fleſh, yet he would not kill them ; ſo, with cords, faſtens them to the outſide of his lodge; and with conſtant feeding them, in two months time made them ſo tame, that they followed him up and down; which added much to the pleaſure he already took in his habitation, which by that time was covered with green leaves, both top and ſides; the ſtakes it was made of having ſtruck root, and ſhot out young PHILIP QUARLL. 199: branches; whoſe ſtrength increaſing that ſummer, to fill up the vacancy between each plant, he pulled up . the turf wherewith he had covered the outſide and top of the hut between them, to keep the cold out in the winter, % º, * * * * * * His former hut being now become a pleaſant ar- bour gave him encouragement to beſtow ſome pains about it towards the embelliſhment of it, which ſeem- ed to depend on being well attended. He reſolved * upon keeping it well pruned and watered, the better to make it grow thick and faſt, which anſwered his intent; for, in three years time, the ſtems of every plant that compoſed the arbour, were grown quite cloſe, and made a ſolid wall of about fix inches thick, covered with green leaves without: which lay moſt regular and even, and within had a moſt agreeable, ſmooth bark, of a pleaſant olive-colour. tº His late arbour being, by his care and time, and ature’s affiſtance, become a matchleſs lodge, as in- tended by nature for ſomething more than human gueſts, he now conſults to make it as commodious beautiful. Here is, ſaid he, a delightful dwelling, warm in the winter, and cool in the ſummer; de- lightful to the eye, and comfortable to the body; pity it ſhould be employed to any uſe but repoſe and delight ! ſo reſolved upon making a kitchen near it. º 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 incloſed with turfs' covered the outſide of his arbour, before it was that c ſufficiently thick to keep out the cold; then, hav- ing laid ſticks acroſs the top of the walls, which and ſo covers it, leaving an open place for the ſmoke O Out. : 2O3 PHILIP QUARLL. The outſide being done, he goes about infide ne- ceſſaries, 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 ſtew-ſtoves in noblemen’s kitchens; then, at another place, he ſets two flat ſtones, about eight or nine inches broad, and one foot long, edgeways, oppoſite to one another ; near two feet aſunder; then puts a third in the ſame manner at the end of the other two; ſo makes a fire-place fit to roaſt at ; then, for other conveniences, he weaves twigs about ſticks, ſtuck in the wall at one ſide of the kitchen where he lays the ſhells fit for utenſils which both adorned and furniſhed it. 3. Having completed that piece of work, he goes and viſits his plantations, which he finds in a thriving condition ; the roots being, in fix months time, grown from the bigneſs of a pea (as they were when #".) to that of an egg: his antelopes alſo were come to their full growth and complete beauty, which exceeded moſt four-footed beaſts ; having a majeſtic preſence, body and limbs repreſenting a ſtag, and the noble imarch of a horſe: ſo every thing con- curred to his happineſs. For which, having return- ed his moſt liberal Benefactor his grateful acknow- ledgments, he thinks on means to prevent any ob- ſtructions that may intercept the continuation there- of ; and as the want of clothes was the only cauſe, he could think of, to make him uneaſy, having but the jacket and thoſe which were given him on board, to ſave his own clothes, which, when worn out, he could not recruit; therefore to accuſtom himſelf to go without, he thinks on thoſe he had, ſo takes away the lining from the outfide of his clothing, in order to wear the thickeſt in the coldeſt weather, and ſo ! ź - PHILIP QUARLL. 2OI thins his dreſs by degrees, till at laſt, he went quite naked. * Having thus concluded, as being the beſt ſhift ne- ceſſity could raiſe him, he falls a ripping his jacket, in the lining whereof he finds ſeven peas, and three beans, which were got in at a hole at the corner of the pocket. Thoſe few made him wiſh for more, which he had no room to hope for, they being raiſed by ſeed, which the iſland did not produce : theſe few, ſaid he, which at preſent are hardly ſufficient to ſatisfy a woman’s longing, may, with time and induſtry, be improved to a quantity large enough to ſerve me for a meal; then lays them up againſt a proper time to ſet them ; ſo ſpent the remainder of that ſummer 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 in- tervals between, fiſh he commonly found on the rock fter 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 the variety of objećts that element affords. Sometimes he had the pleafare to ſee great whales chaſing one another, ſpouting large ſtreams of wa- ter out of their gills and noſtrils; at other times, numbers of beautiful dolphins rolling amongſt the waves; now and then a quantity of ſtrange monſtrous fiſh playing on the ſurface of the ſea, ſome whereof. had heads (not common to fiſhes) like thoſe of hogs; others not unlike thoſe of dogs, calves, horſes, lions, bulls, goats, and ſeveral other creatures: ſome chaſ- ing another ſort, which to avaid being taken, would quit their element, and ſeek refuge in the air, and - 2O2 PHILIP QUARLL. fly ſome yards above the water, till their fins, being dry, obliged them to plunge in again. < Theſe paſtimes being generally ſucceeded with bad weather, and dreadful ſtorms, checked the pleaſure they gave, with the dread of the evil that threatened to follow. Thus commiſerating the caſe of thoſe whoſe misfortune it is to be expoſed to them ; having ſpent ſome time in refle&tion, he goes to his uſual de- votion; and calling to mind, that in all that time he never ſaw a young fiſh in it, he conjećtured that ſomething might deſtroy the ſmall ones; and as he imagined ſo 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 ſwallow. … At that diſtance, the bird being alſo upon the wing he could neither diſcern the colour nor make ; but he had the ſatisfaction of diſcovering the cauſe why the fiſhes did not increaſe, they being devoure when young by that creature; which to prevent, f the future, he ſtudies means to kill the deſtroyer; nets not being proper inſtruments; it being requiſite for that purpoſe to have one all round, as alſo to cover the pond, which was impoſſible, by reaſon of its largeneſs; and a leſs being of no uſe; the birds not probably coming to one certain place. He wiſhed for a gun, and ammunition fitting, as being the moſt probable things to ſucceed; but no ſuch inſtrument being within his reach, he ponders again; during which time, a croſs-bow offers itſelf to his mind, but is as diſtant from his reach as the gun : it is true, there was ſtuff enough in the iſland to make many, but he had no tools but a hatchet and a pocket knife; wherewith, if he had made ſhift to cut and ſhape a bow, he could not make a latch and ſpring neceſſary to it; ſo he muſt not think of it : yet, a bow being PHILIP QUARLL. 203 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 a yew, and as tough, of which they are ſometimes made, he, with the tools he had, made ſhift to make one, of about ſix feet long, and arrows of the fame, which he hardens and ſtraightens over the fire; then, having ſlit them at one end, about two or three inches, he ſlips in a bit of parchment cut ſharp at one end, and about three inches at the other; then ties the end cloſe to keep it in, which ſerved for feathers ; and, with the ravelling of ſome of the ſail, he makes a ſtring to It. Thus equipped for an archer, wanting nothing but ſkill, which is only to be gained by pračtice, he daily exerciſes ſhooting at a mark for the ſpace of a fort- night : in which time he made ſuch improvement, that in three ſhots he would hit a mark of about hree inches ſquare, at near fifty paces diſtance. Being ſufficiently ſkilled, he goes and lies in wait for his defired game; ſo places himſelf behind a tree as near to the pond as he could, whither the bird came in a few hours after. . The creature being pitched upon the bank, never ſtood ſtill, but kept running round, watching for a fizeable fiſh to ſwallow ; ſo that he had no opportu- nity to ſhoot: until having at laſt ſpied out one, it launched itſelf into the pond, but raiſed more eaſi- ly, which gave him time to take more aim ; neverthe- leſs he .# it, being in motion : but when come to the top, he ſtruck it through the body, as it open- ed . wings, and laid it flat on the other fide of the He took it up, wonderfully pleaſed at his good ſucceſs the firſt time of his practiſing his new acquired 204 PHILIP QUARLL. 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 proviſions; and their recruiting prevented by that bird’s daily devouring their young. - The inexpreſfible beauty of the feathers, which were after the nature of a drake, every one diſtin- guiſhed from another by a rim round the edge there- of, about the breadth of a thread, and of a change- able colour, from red to aurora and green; the ribs of a delightful blue, and the feathers pearl colour, ſpeckled with a bright yellow ; the breaſt and belly" (if it might be ſaid to be of any particular colour) was that of a dove's feathers, rimmed like the back diverſly changing ; the head, which was like that of a ſwan for make, was purple alſo, changing moved ; the bill like burniſhed gold ; eyes li ruby, with a rim of gold round it; the feet ſame as the bill ; the fize of the bird was between a fºliº gooſe and duck, and in ſhape reſembling a Having bemoaned the death of that delightful crea- ture he carefully takes out its fleſh, which corrupt- ing, would ſpoil the outſide ; then ń. the ſkin with ſweet herbs, which he dried for that uſe; and having ſewed up the place he had cut open, to take the fleſh out, he ſets it up in his lodge. . . . . . . His good ſucceſs in archery, made him love the ex- erciſe; ſo that what odd hours he had in the day (beſide thoſe he ſet apart for his divine worſhip, and thoſe neceſſary occupations about his lodge, planta- tions, and making remarks) he beſtowed in ſhooting at the mark; which in time made i.e.-- PHILIP QUARLL. 225 he hardly would miſs 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 occaſion to try it upon a monſtrous eagle, which often flew rounding over the place where his ante- lopes and goats fed, near his lodge, which he ſhot at, fearing it would damage them, and killed it with the ſecond arrow. Summer being over, during which, having been much taken up about his habitation and plantations, he had neither time nor opportunity to make remarks, farther than it was ſome days very ſhowery, and for the moſt part generally very hot; but now the wea- ther being grown ſomething cold, and the wind pret- ty ſharp, he muſt be obliged to put on ſome clothes to keep it off; being as yet too tender to go any longer without ; next, to provide for his antelopes againſt the approaching winter; ſo makes a lodge for them, at the backfide of his kitchen, with ſticks, ich he drove into the ground, about two feet from the wall, and then bends them about three feet from the ground, and ſticks them in the ſaid wall, and ſmaller branches he interwove between them ; he ſhuts up the front, and covers the top, leaving both ends open for the antelopes to go in and out at ; then lays graſs (which he dried on purpoſe) in the ſaid lodge, for them to lie on. Thus, having dug up a confiderable quantity of roots, and being already ſtocked with ſalt 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 ſtormy. The ſucceeding ſpring having awaked ſlumber nature, and reviving what the preceding hard ſeaſon. had cauſed to droop, every vegetable puts on new 206 PHILIP QUARLL. his new plantations, where he found his roots grown full as large as any of thoſe that grew wild. Make clothing, and recovers their wonted beauty; each animal aſſumes freſh vigour; the beaſts 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 nature’s direétion, for the increaſe of every kind, warms their harmleſs breaſts: each animal ſeeks a mate ; our tame antelopes quit their abode, and range the woods, for the relief ordained to quell their innocent paſſion ; which being aſſuaged they return home, pregnant with young, to their maſter's great ſatisfaction ; who, having given them over, was doubly rejoiced to ſee them come again in an in- creaſing condition. Heaven be praiſed ſaid he, I ſhall have a ſtock of my own ; and will not fear wanting. -- So having made fitting preparations againſt their kidding, he goes and examines the improvement o me thankful! ſaid he I am now provided with all neceſſary food : I ſhall no more need to rob thoſe poor creatures of that which nature had provided for their own proper uſe. Next he goes and views his ſmall ſtock of peas and beans, which he found in a very promiſing caſe ; ſo, whilſt the weather was fair, he falls to clearing a ſpot of ground to ſet them in, º as they increaſed. & Turning up the gro ind, he found ſeveral forts of roots that looked to be eatable, ſome whereof were big as a large carrot, others leſs. He broke a bit of every one; ſome of which breaking ſhort, and eing ſtringy, he judges they might be eatable : ſmells them ; and finding the ſcent not to be ole, he taſtes them. me were ſweetiſh, PHILIP QUARLL, so others ſharp and hot, like horſe-radiſh; and thoſe he propoſes to uſe inſtead of ſpice. Sure, ſaid he, theſe being of a pleaſant ſcent and ſavour, can- not be of an offenſive nature ; ſo, having manured his ground, he takes a ſample of every root which he judged eatable, and boils them, as the ſureſt way to experience their goodneſs. . Moſt of them proved not only paſſable good, but extraordinary ; ſome eating like parſnips, others al- moſt like carrots, but rather more agreeable; ſome like beets and turnips; every one, in their ſeveral kinds, as good as ever he eat in England, but of dif- ferent colour and make ; ſome being bluiſh, others black : ſome red, and ſome yellow; theſe, though not wanted, having ſufficient to gratify a nicer taſte than his, were nevertheleſs extremely welcome, be- ing ſomething like his native country fare and pro- ićt: ſo having returned thanks for this moſt agree- able addition to his ordinary, he ſets a mark to every herb which thoſe roots bore, in order to get ſome of the ſeed to ſow in a ground he would prepare ; ſo, being provided with fleſh, fiſh, herbs, and ſeveral forts of roots, he goes and examines what improve- ment his peas and beans have made ; which he found increaſed to admiration ; the ſeven peas having pro- duced one thouſand, and the three be : hun- dred ; having returned thanks for that vaſt increaſe, he lays them by, in order to ſet them at a proper ſea- ſon, as he had done the year before. By this time his antelopes had kidded, one of them. having brought four young ones, and the ſecond three; this vaſt addition to his proviſions very 1 reioic being ſure now not to want fleſ which before he was in danger of; finding but n any thing in his met : ſo makes account to S 2 - . 2 og PHILIP QUARLL. live upon two of the young bucks whilſt they laſted; killing one as ſoon as fit for meat, and ſo now and then another, ſaving only five to breed : one where- of ſhould be a male to keep the females in rutting- time 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 ſtore of thoſe greens he knew they loved ; as alſo boiled roots for them now and then, of which they are very fond ; the young ones throve apace and grew very fat; ſo that in three weeks time they were large, and fit to eat. He kill- ed one ; which being roaſted, proved to be more de- licious than any houſe-lamb, ſucking-pig, young fawn, or any other ſuckling whatever. Having lived upon that, with now and then a little fiſh, 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 ; reſerving one of the other two males for a time he ſhould be ſcanted, and in want of fleſh; but was unluckily diſappointed by a parcel of large eagles, which flying one morning over the place where the young antelopes were playing, be- ing of a gay, as well as a&tive diſpoſition, who launch- ed themſelves with precipitation upon the male he reſerved for time of need, and one of the females which he kept for breed; ſeeing his beloved diverters carried away by thoſe birds of prey, he runs in for his bow, but came too late with it, the eagles being Orić. . . . . . .” . Having loſt his two dear antelopes, eſpecially the :male, having doomed the male for his own eating, he hardly could forbear weeping, to think of their be- ing cruelly torn topieces by thoſe ravenous creatures; PHILIP QUARLL. 209 thus having for ſome time lamented his loſs, and be- wailed their hard fate, he thinks on means to pre- vent the like evil for the time to come ; and as his bow was not always at hand, he reſolves upon mak- ing a net, and faſtens it between the trees he ſaw them come in at. - tº The ſucceeding winter proving very wet and windy, gave him but little invitation to take his uſual walks : ſo having everything he had occaſion for at hand, he kept cloſe to his net-making; for which having twine to twiſt, and thread to ravel out to make the ſaid twine, kept him employed till the fol- lowing ſpring, which came on apace. Having finiſhed his net, and every thing which be-, longed to it, he goes and faſtens it to the trees, as he had propoſed ; then takes a walk to his new plan- tations, which he found in a thriving condition ; for which, and other benefits already received, he re- ſolves as in duty bound, to attend at his uſual place of worſhip, and fing thankſgiving pſalms, which the hardneſs of the weather had kept him from all the late winter; but it coming into his mind, that whilſt he was at his devotion, returning thanks for the fair, proſpect of a plentiful crop, his antelopes would break into the cloſe, the hedge being as yet too thin, and devour the promiſing buds, which are the prin- cipal occaſion of his devotion; this, not altogether improper confideration, puts a fad checkt igi- ous intention; and though there a s tion to prompt him to the per ~ ** ----- 1:- of his duty, yet he could not, with wiſdom, r hazard, out of mere devotion, to loſe ſo promiſing a crop, which he ſhould never be able to retrieve; a his ſtock offeed being then in graſs. 3. As he was debating in his mind betwee S 3 - 2 Iº, PHILIP QUARLL. and reaſon, whether the latter ought not to be a di- rector to the former, he perceived his antelopes mak- ing towards the peas, whither 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 devo. tion ; no man being required to worſhip to his pre- judice: ſo having put off his religious duty till he had better ſecured his peas and beans, he cuts a parcel of branches, wherewith he ſtops thoſe gaps to pre- vent the creatures going in ; and having completed his work, he goes to his devotion, adding to his uſual thankſgiving a particular collect for his luckily being in the way to prevent his being fruſtrated of the bleſfing heaven ſo fairly promiſed to beſtow on his labours. Having paid his devotion, he walks about the iſland, being all the way delighted with the birds ce- lebrating their Maker’s praiſe, in their different har- monious notes every thing in nature, ſaid he, an- ſwers the end of its creation, but ungrateful man, who, ambitious to be wife as his Creator, only learns to make himſelf wretched. Thus he walks till the evening, making ſeveral refle&tions on the dif- ferent conditions of men, preferring his preſent ſtate to that of Adam before his fall, who could not be ſenſible of happineſs, having never known a reverſe; which, otherwiſe, he would have been more careful to prevent. Being come home, and near bed-time, he firſt eats his ſupper; then having performed his cuſtomary religious ſervice, he goes to bed; the next morning, after paying his uſual devotion, he takes a walk to his plantations, on which he implores a con- tinuation of the proſperous condition they appear to he in ; next he goes to examine his nets, in which he PHILIP QUARLL. 2 I I * 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 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 changing moſt agreeably as they moved. The duck was alſo very beautiful, but quite of diffe- rent colours, much paler than the drake’s. The diſappointment in catching thoſe delightful fowls, inſtead of ravenous eagles, as he had purpoſ- ed, no ways diſpleaſed him, but he rather was rejoic- ed to have ſuch beautiful fowls to look at ; yet it went much againſt his mind to deprive thoſe crea- tures of their liberty (the greateſt comfort in life) which nature took ſuch pains to adorn ; but, ſaid he, they were created for the uſe of man : ſo in keeping them for my pleaſure they will but anſwer the end of their creation. Their confinement ſhall be no ſtrićter than my own ; they ſhall have the whole iſland to range in. He then pinions them, puts them in the pond, and makes a baſket for them to ſhelter in, which he places in the branches of thoſe trees that hung cloſeſt to the water, taking particu- lar care to feed them daily with roots roaſted 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 ; ſo that they bred in their ſeaſon. - The five antelopes had by this time kidded, and brought ſixteen young ones: his peas and beans alſo were wonderfully improved, having that ſeaſon enough to ſtock the ground the year following. Thus he returtled kind Providence thanks for the vaſt increaſe, and concludes to live upon the young antelopes : § 21, PHILIP QUARLL. long as they laſted, reſerving only one for to fuck the old ones, to keep them in milk, of which he had taken notice they had plenty, deſigning to draw it daily for his own uſe; ſo that in a little time, he had enough to ſkim for cream, which he uſed for ſauce inſtead of butter, and made ſmall cheeſes of the reſt : now having a pretty ſtore of dairy-ware, he reſolves to make a place to keep it in ; the kitchen wherein he was obliged to lay his ſalt-fiſh (which commonly ſmells ſtrong) not being a proper place for cream and milk: for which end he makes a dairy- houſe at the other fide of his dwelling; with branches of trees, after the manner of the cloſe harbour, and thatches it over with graſs; which anſwering the kit- chen 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 re- ſolution of making cheeſe, having learned the way in Holland; and for want of rennet to turn his milk, he takes ſome of the horſe-radiſh-ſeed, which being of a hot hature, had the ſame effect: having curd to his mind, he ſeaſons it to his palate ; then with his hatchet, he cuts a notch round in the bark of a tree, about eighteen inches in circumference; and a ſecond in the ſame manner, fix inches below that; then ſlits the circle, and with his knife gently opens it, part- ing it from the tree: thus he makes as many hoops as he judged would contain his paſte, which, being girded round with cords to keep them from opening, . with the ſaid paſte, and lays them by till fit fills being done, which completed his proviſions, : returns thanks for thoſe bleſfings, which had been º trally beſtowed on him ; now, ſaid h º PHILIP QUARLL. 2 I 3 be praiſed I exceed a prince in happineſs : I have a habitation ſtrong and laſting, beautiful and conveni- ent freehold, a ſtore of comforts, with all neceſſaries of life free-coſt, which I enjoy with peace and plea- ſure uncontrolled : yet I think there is ſtill ſomething wanting to complete my happineſs, if a partner in grief leſiens forrow, certainly it muſt in delight aug- ment pleaſure. What objects of admiration are here concealed, and, like a miſer’s treaſure, hid from the world ! If man, who was created for bliſs, could have been completely happy alone, he would not have had a companion given him : thus he walks about thoughtful till bed-time. - > In this diſpoſition he goes to bed, and ſoon fell aſleep ; the night alſo, being windy, added to his heavy diſpoſition : but his mind finds no repoſe ; it ſtill runs on the ſubject that took it up the day before, and forms ideas ſuitable to his inclination : and as ſolitude was the motive of its being diſturbed, he indulges it with the thoughts of company, dream- ing that the fame of his ſtation and happy ſtate of life, was ſpread about the world; tha; it prompted a vaſt number 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 ſent, who laid taxes, demanded du- ties, raiſed rents, and warns him to be gone : hav- ing fixed upon his habitation for himſelf to dwell in. Being ſadly diſturbed, he cries out in his ſleep, This is a great puniſhment for my uneaſineſs : could I not be contented with being lord of this iſland, without provoking heaven to bring me under the power of ex- ' There happening a great noiſe, he ſtarts out of his ſleep, with the thoughts of hearing a proclamation : 214 PHILIP QUARLL. and cried 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 puts on his clothes, and haſteus to the place he heard the noiſe come from. Being within forty or fifty yards thereof, he ſaw a number of monkeys of two different kinds ; one fort ſquealing and fighting againſt the other, without in- termixing, but ſtill rallying, as they ſcattered in the ſcuffle, he ſtood ſome time admiring the order they kept in ; and the battle ſtill continuing as fierce as at firſt, he advanced to ſee what they fought about ; for he took notice, they very much ſtrove to keep their groun z ~ . the battle ceaſed; and the com- . ſome diſtance, left the ſpot of ground, on which they fought, clear; whereon lay a confiderable quantity of wild pomegranates which the wind had ſhook off the trees the night before, and which were the occaſion of their ſtrife. * , . His coming having cauſed a truce, every one of thoſe creatures keeping ſtill quiet during his ſtay, he reſolved to make a ſolid peace ; and as that difference had ariſen from the fruit there preſent, to which he could ſee no reaſon but that each kind had an equal right; he divides it into two equal parcels, which he lays oppoſite to each other towards both the parties, retiring a little way, to ſee whether this expedient would decide the quarrel : which anſwered his intent, fe animals quietly coming to that ſhare next to them, and peaceably carrying it away, each to their quarters. This occaſioned ſeveral refle&tions on the ivolous, and often unjuſt quarrels that ariſe am rinces, which create ſuch bloody wars, as prove t PHILIP QUARLL. 215 deſtruction of vaſt numbers of their ſubjećts. If mo- narchs, ſaid he, always ačted with as much reaſon as theſe creatures, how much blood and money would they ſave 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 ſo tortured his mind; though he confeſſed he juſtly deſerved the reality, for his uneaſineſs in the happieſt of circum- ſtances. . Having paid his devotion, he takes a walk to ſee 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 ſaid he I ſhall eat of this year's crop, and have ſuffici- ent to ſtock my ground the enſuing one. . * Thus being plentifully ſupplied with neceſſaries, and in a pleaſant iſland, every thing about him being come to perfection; his dwelling, which ſeems in- tended by nature for ſome immortal gueſt, being, by time, yearly repaired and improved, leaving no room for care; yet the unwiſe man, as if an enemy to his own eaſe, cannot be contented with the enjoyment of more than he could reaſonably crave, but muſt diſ- turb his mind with what concerns him not : what pity, ſaid he, ſo delightful a habitation, attended with ſuch conveniences, and fituated in ſo wholeſome. an air, and fruitful a land, ſhould at my death, loſe all thoſe wonderful properties, and become uſeleſs for want of ſomebody to enjoy them : What admi- ration will here be loſt for want of beholders! but what kind of man could I ſettle it upon, worthy ſo fine an inheritance 2 were it at my pleaſure to chuſe myſelf an heir, ſuch only appear virtuous, whoſe weak nature confides to chaſtity: every conſtitutio iſs: want of courage occaſions 216 – PHILIP QUARLL. neſs, and lack of ſtrength good temper : thus virtue is made a cloak to infirmity : but why do I thus will- ingly hamper myſelf with thoſe cares Providence has been pleaſed to free me of 2 3% % Leave the miſer the knowing care, Who'll ſucceed him, or be is heir ; That racks his ſoul with diſcontent, * Left what he rak’d for ſhould be ſpent. His gold to him is far more dear, Than all his friends or kindred near. 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 eſtate ; and made an inventory of every indivi- dual tenement, appurtenances, meſſuages, goods and chattels, and alſo a draught of the terms and condi- tions he is to hold the here-mentioned poſſeſſions upon ; viz. Imprimis, A FAIR and moſt pleaſant iſland, richly ſtocked with fine trees, and adorned with ſeveral de- lightful groves, planted and improved by nature, ſtored with choice and delicious roots and plants for food, bearing peas and beans; likewiſe a noble fiſh- pond, well ſtocked with divers forts of curious fiſh; and a ſpacious wood, harbouring feveral forts of wild fowl and beaſts, fit for a king’s table. Item, A Dwell ING commenced by art, improved y nature, and completed by time, which yearly keeps in repair, as alſo its furniture. Item, The offices and appurtenances thereof, with the utenſils thereunto belonging; which ſaid iſland, welling, &c. are freehold, and clear from taxes; in PHILIP QUARLI. 27 --~~ no temporal dominion, therefore ſcreened from any impoſitions, duties and exactions: defended by na- ture from invaſions and aſſaults; guarded and fup- ported by Providence : all which incomparable pof feſfions are to be held upon the following terms, viz. -º That whoſoever ſhall be by Providence ſettled in this bleſſed abode, ſhall, morning and evening, con- ſtantly (unleſs prevented by ill weather or accident) attend at the eaſt-fide of this iſland, and within the alcove nature prepared for the lodgment of ſeveral harmonious echoes, and there pay his devotion ; fing- ing thankſgiving-pſalms to the Origin and Director of all things, whoſe º *... º sº ſe praiſes he will have the comfº to hear repeated by melodious voices. Next, he ſhali religiouſly obſerve and keep a ſe- venth day, for worſhip only, from the riſing of the ſun until the going down thereof: therefore he ſhall, ... day before, make all neceſſary proviſion for that ay. -- º THAT he ſhall, after any tempeſtuous wind ſtorm, viſit the ſea at the out-fide of the rock, at the eaſt, ſouth, weſt, and north ends, in order to affiſt ny one in diſtreſs. He ſhall not be waſteful of any thing whatſoever, eſpecially of any creature’s life; killing no more than what is neceſſary for his health : but ſhall ev examine his nets, ſetting at liberty the overplus of his neceſſity, leaſt they ſhould periſh r con- finement. HE muſt alſo keep every thing in the and cleanneſs he ſhall find them in ; till the ground yearly : ſet and ſow plants a for food in their proper ſeaſons. Having written this at the bottom o 218 PHILIP QUARLL. had drawn, being ſupper time, he takes his meal ; then goes to his evening devotion ; and after an hour's walk to his bed, ſleeping quietly all night, as being eaſy in his mind. The next morning he takes his uſual walks, and viſits his nets : in that he had ſet for eagles, he found a fowl as big as a turkey but the colour of a pheaſant, only a tail like a partridge : this having no ſign of being a bird of prey, he was loth to kill it ; but having had no freſh meat for above a week, he yields to his appetite, and dreſſes it, eating part thereof for his dinner: it was very fat and plump, and eat much like a pheaſant, but rather tenderer, and full of gravy. 3. 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 antelopes in jeopardy : but he could not deſtroy them with his net, which had hung a confiderable time without the intended ſucceſs, he projećts the prevention of their increaſe, by deſtroying their eggs, leaving his nets wholly for the uſe they had been ſucceſsful in ; and ſearches the clefts of the rock next to the ſea, where thoſe birds commonly build, where having found ſeveral ueſts, he takes away the eggs that were in them, being their breeding time, and carries them home, in order to empty the ſhells, and hang them up and do n his habitation, amongſt the green leaves ich covered the ceiling thereof; but having acci- n one, and the yolk and white thereof of a turkey, he had the curioſity to nd taſte it, which eat much after the man- n’s : the reſt he ſaved to eat now and then ing thereby the damage they PHILIP QUARLL. 219 might do him in time, and adding a diſh to his pre- ſent fare. º ; In this proſperous way he lived fifteen years, find ing no alteration in the weather or ſeaſons, nor meet- ing in all the time, with any tranſactions worthy of record : ſtill performing his uſual exerciſes, and tak- ing his walks with all the content and ſatisfaction his happy condition could procure ; entirely forſaking all thoughts and defires of ever quitting the bleſſed ſtation he then had in his poſſeſſion. Thus having walked the iſland over and over, (which though delightful, yet the frequent repetitions of thoſe wonders it produces, renders them, as it were, common and leſs admirable) he proceeds to view the ſea, whoſe fluid element being ever in motion, daily affords new objećts of admiration. , , The day being very fair, and the weather as calm, he ſat down upon the rock, taking pleaſure in ſeeing the waves roll, and, as it were, chaſe one another; the next purſuing the firſt, on which it rides, when come at ; and being itſelf overtaken by a ſucceeding one, is alſo mounted on thus wave upon wave, till come to a bulky body, too heavy for Herrnaſk fºr, bear, ſunk altogether: this, ſaid he, blem of ambition; men ſtriving to out are often undone. - As he was making refle&tions on the en vanity and pride, returning heaven thanks th feparated from the world, which abounds i elſe ; a ſhip appears at a great diſtance, I not ſeen fince his ſhipwreck : unlucky i he, that thou ſhouldſt ever come int. ts! The ark, which gave the firſt noti … * PHILIP QUARLL. ſtrućtion. Having therefore returned heaven thanks for his being out of thoſe dangers, he makes a ſolemn vow, never to return into them again, though it were to gain the world : but his reſolution proved as brittle, as his nature was frail; the men on board ad ſpied him out with their perſpective glaſſes: ind ſuppoſing him to be ſhipwrecked, and to want relief, ſent their long-boat with two men to fetch At approach, his heart alters its motion: his from its common courſe ; his finews are ed; which entirely unframes his reaſon kes him a ſtranger to his own inclination ; ſtruggling with his wavering reſolution, occa- a debate between hope and fear : but the boat being come pretty nigh, gave hope the advantage, and his late reſolution yields to his revived inclinations; which being now encouraged by a probable opportu- nity of being anſwered, ruſhes on to execution : he quitting all his former reliance on Providence, together on getting away, bleſfing the lity of feeing his bleſſed country again, he freely quits and forſakes all njoyed 1. x gladly abandoning his in, and plentiful iſland: he thinks Providence ; his mind is entirely taken yage : but diſappointment, which of greateſt probabilities, ſnatches ſuc- hand before he could graſp it, and in- ppoſedly infallible retreat : the boat oach him, by reaſon of the rocks into the ſea under water: boat for ſharp points and ºrdable, as well as unn PHILIP QUARLL. to come at one another; the men, after they had ſtrove all they could, but to no purpoſe, ſaid ſome- thing to him in a rage, which he underſtood not, and went without him, more wretched now, than when he was firſt caſt away : his full dependence upon a retreat made him abandon all further reliance upon Providence, whom then he could implore; but now, having ungratefully deſpiſed heaven's bounties, which, had been ſo largely beſtowed on him, he has forfeited all hopes of affiſtance from thence, and expects none from the world : thus deſtitute and in the great- eſt 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 curſed delu- fion but rather curſed weakneſs, why did I give way to it. H lot enough of the world, or was I grown weary of being happy ſo ſaying, he falls a weeping ; could I ſhed a flood of tears, ſufficient to waſh away my fault or eaſe me of the remorſe it does create 1 but why does my diſtraćted fancy pro- poſe impoſſibilities? is not the ocean ſufficient to rid w }:US me of this wretched * then, adieu, infectiou world, thou magician of iniquity The thoughts of which are now more offenſive than the moſt nauſe- ous odour of an old ſepulchre. Here he was going to caſt himſelf into the ſea ; but a vaſt large monſter, riſing out of the water, with its terrible jaw open, looking at him in a moſt dreadful ped the execution of his deſperate deſig appearing in a different ſhape than 1 to meet him in, frightens away his ref ing : I may, ſaid he, condemn myſelf; geance belongs to God alone who rejects no repentance, but always extends his mer. Penitent; and ſince St. fter t º PHILIP QUARLL. as, by repenting and weep- gain into favour, I hope . e tokens of repentance will ed of, for ever divorcing myſelf from the and never thinking of its alluring pleaſures, deſpiſe them. And, for the better perform- ance of that pious reſolution, he ſets that woeful day apart (in which he was about to commit the fatal deed) for prayer and faſting; thus he went home, and hav at nothing fince the day before, he ſpent he remainder of that in faſting and praying, finging ial pſalms till dark night, that nature urged The pains and labour he was at in the day, climb- ing up and down the rock, d in mſelf to and fro, to come at the boat, having very much racked his limbs; and the diſappointmer is full depen- dance on the late promiſing ſucceſs, as alſo the tor- menting remorſe, and heavy gr his finful reli- ance thereon, much fatiguing 4. rena ereon, ſleep, which is ordained : §§§ º im: his thoughts are htful viſions; all his threatening their re- im moſt was, the * t º effleſ, ſleep, rather more down, having ſtill the te I % ILIP QUARLL ass a nation) terrible ºbjećt, as the moſt ſuitable to the barbarity of his deſign, to ſtrike into him that terror which the ſpecies of death he had fixed in could, not. Thus having with tears acknowledged the enormity of his reſolution, he returns Providence thanks for its ineſtimable goodneſs, who, (notwith- ſtanding his late moſt ungrateful elopement) preſerv- ed him from eternal, as well as temporal ruin: hav. ing paid his devotion, and ſung a thankſgiving- he takes a little nouriſhment, his ſpirits being low with his paſt fatigue and faſting, and as he could not put out of his eyes the terrible aſpect of the monſter, which was beyond any chimerical conception, he re- ſolves to draw it according to the idea he had in his mind: perhaps, ſaid he, having often the repreſen- tation before mine eyes, it will make the objećt more familiar and leſs frightful. Taking therefore pen and ink, and a ſheet of parchment, now, ſaid he, how ſhall I repreſent what is paſt imagination to con- ceive a form without likeneſs, and yet compara- ble to the moſt terrible part of every frightful crea- ture ; a large head, reſembling that of a lion, bear In ending backwards; its fº darts, like a porcupine ; vaſt great g like a flint ſtruck with a ſteel; rfe, always ſnorting ; the mo and teeth of a panther; the fences and the tuſks of a wild boar; with ; like an eagle, 224 PHILIP QUARLL. put him in the greateſt admiration ſure, ſaid he, if nature had a hand in thy making, it was to aſſemble, in one creature, all the fierceſt and dreadfulleſt ani- mals that are moſt frightful and terrible ! Now, per- haps, this being conſtantly before me, may come leſs in my mind. Then fixing it againſt his wall, this, ſaid he, will alſo be a memorandum of my late vow, never to endeavour to wiſh to go from hence, whatever opportunity offers, though attended with ever ſo great a probability of ſucceſs, and proſpect of gain ; fully ſetting his whole mind and affection on the ſtate and condition Heaven had been pleaſed to place him in : reſolving to let nothing enter into his thoughts, but his moſt grateful duty to ſo great a be- nefactor, who has ſo often and miraculouſly reſcued 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 bleſſed poſſeſſion, which affords him more than what is ſufficient to make his life happy; where plenty flows on him, and plea- ſure attends his deſires ; bounding in all things that can gratify his appetite, or delight his fancy a herd of §º. bounding and playing about his habitation, divert him at home; and in his walks º he is entertained with the harmony of divers kinds of finging birds; every place he comes to offers him new objećts for pleaſure; thus all ſeems to concur in com- pleting his happineſs. . . In this moſt bleſſed ſtate he thinks himſelf as Adam, before :...' continue in its preſent condition; expected, that fair weather, which his beauty, will not change. The ſun muſt g no room for wiſhes, only that PHILIP QUARLL. confideration muſt, for the preſent, admit ſome ſmall care: he is naked, and his tender conſtitution ſuſ- ceptible of the cold ; therefore the clothes he was caſt away in being worn out, he is obliged to think of providing ſomething to fend his limbs from the hardneſs of the approaching winter, whilſt it is yet warm ; having conſidered what to make a wrapper of, he concludes upon uſing ſome of the ſame graſs he made his mats of, on which he lay, being ſoft and warm, very fit for that purpoſe ; of this he cuts down a ſufficient quantity, which, when ready to work, he makes ſmall twine with, and plaits it in nar- row braids, which he ſews together with the ſame, and ſhapes a long looſe gown, that c him to the heels, and a cap of the ſame. .. By that time he had finiſhed his w weather was grown cold enough for hiſ 2. É The froſty ſeaſon came on apace, in which there fell ſuch a quantity of ſnow, that he was forced to make a broom to ſweep it away from about his habitation twice a day; as alſo the road he made to the places he had oecaſion to go to, toffing the ſnow on each fide, which, before the winter was over, met at top and co- vered it all the way; which obliged him to keep within for a confiderable time and melt ſhow inſtead :::::::::2323.::::::---------> might chance to 226 PHILIP QUARLL. He having a mind to view the ſea, and being come to the outſide of the north-weſt end of the rock, fees at the foot thereof, ſomething like part of the body of a large hollow tree, the ends whereof were ſtopped with its own pitch ; and the middle, which was ſlit open from end to end, and kept gaping by a ſtick laid acroſs. à w This put him in mind of canoes, with which the Indians paddle up and down their lakes and rivers; and being on that ſide of the rock next to the iſland of California, he fancied ſome of them were come to viſit this iſland, though not many in number; their canoes holding, at the moſt, but two men; and, for j , one only : yet, as ſome of theſe peo- ted great thieves, daily robbing one ens home to ſecure what he had : but it was too late : they had been there already, and had taken away the clothes he found in the cheſt; which being, by far, too little for him, hung care- leſsly on a pin behind the door. Had they been con- tented with that, he would not have regarded it; but they carried away ſome of his curious ſhells, and, what grieved him moſt, the fine bird he had taken ſuch pains to dreſs and ſtuff, and care to preſerve ; as alſo his bow and arrows., --- Having miſſed theſe things, which he much va ed, he haſtens to the outſide of the rock, with his long ſtaff in his hand, in hopes to overtake them be- fore they could get into their canoe; but happened n orn to , they being already got near half a rock : yet they did not carry away ere ariſing ſome wind, it made the h, and overſet their canoe wi s in it was all loſt but the two Indians, moſt dexterouſly turned it on its bottom again, a % PHILIP QUARLL. 227. with ſurpriſing activity leaped into it, one at the one ſide, and the other at the oppoſite ; ſo that the canoe being trimmed at once, they paddled out of fight. *ing come to the outſide of the rock, he perceives at a diſtance ſomething like a large cheſt, but having no lid on it. Taking that to be the product of ſome late ſhipwreck, he grieved at the fatal accident; how long, refle&ted he, will covetouſneſs decoy men to purſue wealth, at the coſt of their precious lives? Has not nature provided every nation and country a ſufficiency for its inhabitants that they will rove on this moſt dangerous and boiſterous ſea, which may be titled Death’s dominions; many periſhing therein, and not one on it being ſafe. . . x- As he was bewailing their fate who he imagined had been caſt away, he ſees two men come down the rock, with each a bundle in his arm, who went to that which he had taken to be a cheſt ; and, having put their load in it, puſhed it away till come to deep- er water ; then, having got in it, with a long ſtaff ſhoved it off, till they could row to a long-boat that lay at ſome diſtance behind a jutting part of the rock, which ſcreened it from his fight, as alſo the ſhip it belonged to. The fight of this much amazed him, and made him weaſe condoling others' ſuppoſed loſs, to run home and examine his own ; well knowing thoſe bundles, he ſaw carried away, muſt needs belong to him ; there being no other moveables in the iſland but what were in his lodge. , Being come home, he finds indeed what he ſuſpect- ed: thoſe villains had moſt ſacrilegiouſly rifled ant ranſacked his habitation, not leaving ſo much of the mats to keep his poor body from the g but could n winter gar His winter garb alſo is gone, and what elſe they could find for their uſe. . . , The loſs of thoſe things, which he could not be § thout, filled him with ſorrow ; now, ſaid he, I in my firſt ſtate of being; naked I came into the world, and naked ſhall I go out of it at which he fell a weeping. Having grieved awhile, Why, ſaid he, ſhould I thus caſt myſelf down 2 is not Providence, who gave me them, able to give me more ? Thus having re- ſolved before winter to repleniſh his loſs, he reſts him- ſelf contented, and gives the ruffians’ evil action the beſt conſtrućtion he could. Now I think on it, ſaid he, theſe ſurely are the men, who, about twelve months fince, would charitably have carried me hence, for want of neceſſary implements; w, being better provided, came to accompliſh their hoſpitable deſign ; but, not finding me, ſup- poſing I was either dead or gone, took away what was here of no uſe : much good may what they have got do t as it w and may it be of as much uſe to them e. Thus . graſs to dry, H or willing to go, they wi h they are feaſible I e goes up to them. . . . . ed, could not fly away as the N. as he thought they ervice, he could grudge PHILIP QUARLL. them nothing, that would any-wiſe gratify ſo 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 employment where politeneſs is of little uſe, being fiſhermen, and not underſtanding what he ſaid, only laughed in his face, and went on to the purpoſe they came about: then having as many of the ducks as they could get, they proceeded towards the houſe where they had ſeen the antelopes; ſome of which not running away i. their approach, they propoſed to catch hold of ~ them. . . . . . . . . . Being come to the place where they uſed to feed, which was near the dwelling, the young ones, not be- - ing uſed to ſee any men in clothes, nor any body but d o their maſter preſently fled; but the two old : which he had bred up, were ſo tame, that th ſtill ; only when the men came to them, they kept cloſe to him, which gave the men opportunity to lay hold of them ; when, notwithſtandin arli’s re- peated entreaties, they tied a halter a and barbarouſly led them away. Quarll was grieved to the heart to ſi ich he had taken ſuch care to bree º e become the principal part of his de follow- ig him up and down; and which by their jumping and playing before him, often diſperſed melancholy thoughts; notwithſtanding all theſe endearing qua- lifications, thus hauled away, he weeps, and on --- begs they may be left; and, though they un- this words, his ačtions were ſo expreſſive at had they had the humanity of can- one another, they would have yield- an object as the pool broker PHILIP QUARLL. ruarll was ; but the inflexible boors went on, cruel- ly hauling and dragging the poor creatures ; which as if ſenſible of the barbarity of the ačt, looked back to their afflićted maſter, as craving his aſſiſtance, which, at laſt, ſo exaſperated him, that he was ſeve- ral times tempted to lay on the raviſhers with his long ſtaff; but as often was flopt by the following confideration : Shall I, ſaid he, be the deſtrućtion of my fellow-creatures, to reſcue out of their hands, ani- mals of which I have an improving ſtore left, and de- prive them of their healths, and perhaps of their lives, to recover what coſt me nought 2 Let them go with what they have, and the merit of the deed be their reward. Thus he walks about melancholy, bemoan- ing his poor antelopes’ fate, and his own misfortune : they were uſed to liberty, ſaid he, which now they are deprived of, and for which they will pine and die, which for their fakes, I cannot but wiſh ; for lif without liberty is a continual death. . As he was walking, thinking (as it is uſual, after the loſs of any thing one loves) of the pleaſure he had during the enjoyment, the ruffians, having ſecured the poor animals, came back with ropes in their hands. What do they want next 2 ſaid he, have not all they deſire? would they carry away my habitation alſo ſure they have no deſign on my p ſon : if ſo, they will not take it ſo eaſily as they my dear antelopes. Thus he reſolved to exerciſe his quarter-ſtaff, if they offered to lay hands on him. The villains, whoſe defign was to bind him, and ſo carry him away, ſeeing him armed and reſolute, did not judge it ſafe for them to advance within the reach of his weapon, but kept at ſome di "vining how to ſeize him. Quarll, who by their conſulting, g PHILIP QUARLL. 231 deſign, not thinking proper to let them come to a reſolution, makes at the neareſt, who immediately takes to his heels; and then to the next, who imme- diately does the ſame : thus he follows them about for a confiderable time; but they divided, in order to tire him with running, till the night approachings and the wind riſing, made them fear their retreat might be dangerous, if they deferred it : ſo that they went clear away : which being all he deſired, he re- turned, as ſoon as he ſaw them in the long-boat, which they rowed to their ſhip, that lay at anchor ſome diſtance from the rocks. Theſe wretches being gone, he returns heaven thanks for his deliverance; and as his bridge had fa- voured their coming, he pulls it off, and only laid it over when he had a mind to view the ſea, and goes home to eat a bit, having not, as yet, broken his faſt. Having, therefore, eaten ſome of his roots and cheeſe, and being wearied with hunting thoſe boors, he conſults how to lie, his bed and bedding being gone, as alſo his winter-gown, and the nights being, as yet, cold : however, after a ſmall time of confide- ration, he concludes to lie in the lodge, which was left vacant by the ſtolen antelopes’ abſence; whoſe litter being made of the ſame graſs as his mats were, he lay both ſoft and warm. & * ... When laid down, being ſorely fatigued, he ſoon fell aſleep ; and as the plunderers had the preceding day took up his cares, they filled his mind in the night; he has them continually before his eyes, ſome- times with his beloved antelopes in their pilfering hands; at other times barbarouſly hauling them by their horns with a halter, which they ought to have about their own necks. Theſe ačts of auſterity pro- voking his anger, and º him on to revenge, he age PHILIP QUARLL. lifts his ſtaff, which on a ſudden is turned into Her- cules’ club: ſtartled to ſee that wonderful change, he ſtops from laying on the intended blow. - Reſcuing, ſaid he, my darling animals, I ſhall loſe my precious and ineſtimable peace of mind: what can atone for the life of man 2 Whilſt he was making theſe refle&tions, the men got clear away with the fowls and antelopes, leaving him in deep melancho- ly : thus, as he was bewailing his loſs, calling to mind the agreeable paſtimes they had often been to him, and the many anxious hours he had diſperſed with their diverſion, a gentlewoman appeared before him, of a moſt agreeable yet grave countenance, dreſſed in plain dove-coloured clothes, in moſt places threadbare, and in others patched with divers ſorts of ſtuffs, yet genteel and becoming. He ſtarts at her appearance, wondering what ſhe could come for, hav- ing nothing more to loſe : I come not, ſaid ſhe, to ſeek ought from thee, but to reſtore what thou haſt loſt. He being overjoyed at theſe words, looks, ex- pe&ting his beloved antelopes, and what elſe the men had taken away; but, ſeeing nothing, he thought the viſion proceeded from vapours, which the great grief for his late loſs had occaſioned, and falls a think- ing, till he was a ſecond time interrupted by her, bidding him to look her in the face. Be ſatisfied, ſatisfied, woman, ſaid he why, I neither thee, nor what thou meaneſt. Well, then, replied le, I will inform thee of both : I am Patience, whom 1 the world ſtrive to grieve, and whom none can : ; and what I promiſe to reſtore thee is con- y after worthleſs PHILIP QUARLL. 233 what happened the day before, he makes this appli- cation: This, ſaid he, is a check for my diſcompoſ- ing that peace upon ſuch a frivolous account, which by Providence was intended I ſhould enjoy, having ſupplied me with all neceſſaries to maintain it : he therefore makes a reſolution never to be vexed let what will happen; but with patience ſubmit to the will of GOD, who has the dire&tion of all things. Then, having paid his uſual devotion, he goes into the kitchen, in order to breakfaſt, and afterwards to take his cuſtomary walk. Whilſt he was eating, there aroſe a noiſe in the air, as proceeding from a quanti- ty of rooks, jackdaws, crows, and ſuch like birds, whoſe common notes he was acquainted with ; and as the noiſe approached, he had the curioſity to go and ſee 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, whoſe beauty ſeized him with admiration, the pleaſure of ſeeing ſo charming a creature quite put out of his mind the curioſity of looking from whence proceeded the diſagreeable noiſe without ; which ceaſing as ſoon as the bird was ſheltered, made him imagine thoſe carrion birds had been chaſing that beautiful fowl, which, ſeeing itſelf out of danger, ſtood ſtill, very calm and compoſed ; which gave him the opportunity of making a diſcuſſion of every individual agreement which compoſed ſo delightful an object: it was about the bigneſs and form of a ſwan, almoſt headed like it, only the bill was not ſo long, nor ſo broad, and red like coral; his eyes like thoſe of a hawk, his head of a mazarine blue, and on the top of it a tuft of ſhining gold-coloured feathers, which ſpread over it, hanging near three inches be- yond, all around ; its * face, and part of its as PHILIP QUARLL. neck, milk-white, curiouſly ſpeckled with ſmall black ſpots, a gold-coloured circle about it : its back and neck behind of a fine crimſon, ſpeckled with purple ; its legs and feet the ſame colour as its bill; its tail long and round, ſpreading like that of a peacock, compoſed of fix rows of feathers, all of different co- lours which made a moſt delightful mixture. Having ſpent ſeveral minutes in admiring the bird, he lays peas, and crumbled roots, both roaſted and boiled, before it; as alſo water in a ſhell, with- drawing, to give it liberty to eat and drink; and ſtood out peeping to ſee what it would do; which being alone, having looked about, picks a few peas, and drinks heartily; then walks towards the door, in 5.compoſed and 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 ſo lovely an object, nor harbour that of depriving it of its liberty, which it ſo implicitly intruſted him withal. Thus, after a ſmall pauſe, generoſity pre- vails over ſelf-pleaſure: why ſhould I, ſaid he, make e of its refuge its priſon He therefore makes 'or it to go, which with a ſlow pace walks : ; and having looked about a ſmall time, mounts confiderable height, and then takes its courſe *... . ſ tion he adventure, which he judges to be a prog- noſtic of ſome rebellion or revolution in Europe: whereby having recommended his native country to - &tion of Heaven, begging a continu ad an end of thoſe unhappy diviſions, PHILIP QUARLL. 235 often prove the ruin of nations; he goes and ſets down, in the memorial book, the tranſactions of that year, being 1689, and the fifteenth ſince his being in the iſland, which proved more fruitful in events than any of the preceding. The picture which he had drawn of the terrible ſea-monſter, being againſt his wall, having accuſtomed him to the frightful objećt . that conſtantly diſturbed his mind, he draws that of the two ruffians, committing their barbarity, an hangs it by the place; the idea whereof b ** him more terrible than the preceding, he could not ſuffer it to be long in his fight; but takes it down, and draws on the backfide of it, the villains on a gib- bet: now ſaid he, this being what ought to be the end and explanation of the hiſtory, ſhall now be the right fide of the pićture. x There happening nothing the remainder of the year, worthy of record, he employs it in his cuſto- mary occupations ; as pruning and watering his lodge and dairy, making his mats to lie on, as alſo his winter-garb ; every day milking his antelopes and goats; making now and then butter and cheeſe, at- tending his nets, and ſuch like neceſſary employ- ments. º, º -> N. The mean time, the French mariners, who proba- bly got money by what they had taken from him the year before, returned, it being much about the ſame ſeaſon; and being reſolved to take him away, and all they could make any thing of, out of the iſland, were provided with hands and implements to . a º to bind what they their deſign; as ropes to bi alive, and guns to ſhoot what they could it, faws and hatchets t down logwood il, pick-axes and ſhovels to dig up orris-roots, of worth, which they imagined the iſland 236 PHILIP QUARLL. %. produced "likewiſe flat-bottomed boats to tow in ſhallow water, where others could not come ; and thus by degrees to load their ſhip with booty: but ever watchful Providence blaſted their evil obječts, and confounded their devices, at the very inſtant they thought themſelves ſure of ſucceſs : the 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 fitteſt to go with the tools, which pretty well loaded the boat. & Their materials being landed, to their great ſatis- aćtion, the men on board embarked in two more of the ſame fort of boats ; but were no ſooner in them, but a ſtorm aroſe, which daſhed their ſlender bottoms to pieces, and waſhed them into the ſea, in which they periſhed, overſetting alſo the flat-bottomed boat on ſhore, with the load, and the lad underneath it. The ſtorm being over, which laſted from abo eight in the morning till almoſt twelve at noon, Quarll, according to his cuſtom, went to ſee if he could perceive any damage done by the late tempeſt, and if any diſtreſſed by it, ſtood in want of help. Being at that fide of the rock he uſed to viſit, he could ſee nothing but a few fiſhes and ſhells the ſea had left in the clefts: if this, ſaid he, be all the da- mage that has been done, make me thankful; it will recruit me with freſh fiſh and utenfils. Going to the N. W. part, where he ſees a battered boat, floating with the keel upwards, this, ſaid he, bodes ſome miſ- chief; but thought it not to be of any conſequence. Having gone about fifty yards farther, he ſpies a ſmall barrel at the foot of the rock, with ſeveral planks and fragments of a ſhip, floating with the tide: Alas! ſaid he, theſe are too evident proofs of a ſhipwreck, to lope otherwiſe. As he was looking | PHILIP QUARLL as: about, he hears a voice cry out much like that of a man, at ſome diſtance, behind a part of the rock : being advanced a ſmall matter beyond where he was, Heaven be praiſed I ſays he, there is ſomebody, whom I am luckily come to ſave, and he moſt fortu- nately come to be my companion ; I cannot but re- joice at the event, though I heartily grieve for the accident. Haſtening to the place where he thought the cries came from, which, as he advanced, he could diſcern to be too ſhrill for a man's voice, certainly, ſaid he, this muſt be ſome woman by the noiſe. This ſets his blood a glowing, his heart alters its mo- tion : now, ſaid he, joyful, Providence has complet- my happineſs : I ſhall have a companion, and a help-mate ; and goes on with freſh vigour, as though he had recovered ſtrength, and got new limbs. The rough and ſavage rock, which was before in a man- r inacceſſible, is now made eaſy to walk : he bs the higheſt places with ačtivity, and goes down the ſteep as nimbly; and ſoon arrived where he judged the perſon to be yet, ſeeing nothing, but what he took to be a cheſt, began to be diſhearten- ed: ſure, ſaid he, this is not a i. illuſion, to de- coy my fancy after what is not to be had 2 Thus his joy on a ſudden is turned into deep melancholy; but the creature underneath, who, having heard ſome noiſe near at hand, ceaſed crying, to liſten; yet ſeeing nobody come, cries out again ſomewhat louder than before. This revived him quite, and recals his hopes : it is a woman, ſaid he, and in that cheſt: when, going to break it open, he ſtops on a ſudden: what am I going to do? How do I know the cauſe of her being thus locked up : though women are, in a manner, become a merchandize, yet they never are packed , or cheſted; ſhe muſt be in there for a puniſh- 238 PHILIP QUARLL. ment, which in ſome countries is inflićted on witches. The boy, who heard a voice, calls out in French, which Quarll not underſtanding, he was afraid to let it out: but his mentioning Chriſt being intelligible to him, made him change his opinion, for Chriſt’s ſake, doth ſhe ſay ? that holy name witches ſeldom make uſe of: however, in that holy name I’ll let her out. If ſhe be under condemnation, was not I ſo 2 Had ſhe by heaven been decreed to die, ſhe would not have been here. At, which words, with his ſtaff he en- deavours to break that which he took to be the lid of the cheſt, but proved the bottom: and, as he was ſtriking, the boy underneath, calling to him to turn it up, thruſt his hand under the fide, which he perceiving, though he underſtood him not, ſtood ftill: finding his miſtake, this, ſaid he, is a flat-bot- tomed boat, ſuch as the Frenchmen uſed the ye before, when they came and plundered me : no sam I ſafe, if I turn it up 2 Doubtleſs they are come in great numbers. Pauſing awhile, and the lad (whom he took to be a woman) ſtill continuing his moan, he was moved to compaſſion; and, having 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 ſake I will relieve them, there cannot be many men. However, I will let but one out at a time : if he be miſchievous I am able to deal with him. x. . At this, he puts the end of his ſtaff where he had ſeen 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 puniſhment for the evil purpoſe he came about. Quarll, who expected there was a woman befid * PHILIP QUARLL. 239 fearing the gap the youth came out at would be too uneaſy for her to come through, made motion for the boy to help him, in order to ſet the boat on its bottom; which he did. Quarll, ſeeing the imple- ments, inſtead of the woman, was as much vexed as diſappointed : his countenance changes; ſometimes he looks at the things, and then at the boy ; who ſeeing him appear angry, thought of nothing but preſent death, and again falls on his knees, holding up his hands, almoſt drowned in tears, begging for mer- cy in ſuch a moving manner, that Q. could not forbear ſhedding ſome tears ; and though the late diſappointment of his propoſed happineſs, and the fight of the preparations made for his intended ruin, had moved him to anger againſt that mercenary na- tion, he helps the young fellow up by the hand; the night coming on apace, he takes one of the hets that lay by, and gave another to the boy, len falls a knocking the boat to pieces, and direct- ed him to do the ſame ; which he accordingly did. The boat being demoliſhed they carried the boards up higher on the rock, as alſo the reſt of the things; left in the night ſome ſtorm ſhould riſe, which might waſh them back into the ſea; it being then too late to bring them away. Having done, they each of them took up what they could carry, and ſo went home. The young Frenchman, finding a kinder treatment than he either deſerved or expect- ed, was extraordinary ſubmiſſive and tractable, which made Quarll the more kind and mild; and, inſtead of condemning his evil attempt, he commiferated his .." and in room of reſentment ſhowed him 111. 2. ſs; thus having given him of what he had he puts him to bed in his lodge, wherein he his mats made up ; then went to * PHILIP quaRLL. bed himſelf, but could not ſleep for thinking of his late diſappointment, which intercepted thoſe plea- fures he ſo much depended on, thinking himſelf ſure of a female partner, who, in ſharing happineſs with him, would have much added to his bliſs. - Having toſſed and tumbled a conſiderable time, he begins to be heavy-ſpirited; nature is fatigued, and muſt be refreſhed : thus he falls aſleep; and, as his hopes the preceding day had indulged his deſire, his mind is ſo impreſſed in the night with the idea of a , female objećt, that he dreams he has her by his fide, condoling her for the dangers ſhe has gone through, congratulating her lucky eſcape, and greeting her happy arrival into ſo bleſſed an abode. | Thus expreſſing his joy, in poſſeſſing the only ob- jećt which could complete his happineſs, with all the ſoftneſs and eloquence the moſt paſſionatel reſs, he reaches out his arms to embrace the hantom his inclination had bred in his imag but having groped awhile, and finding nothing, out of his ſleep at this moſt ſhocking diſap- aked, the late "deluſive pleaſures called he real, which he had formerly enjoyed, e did then hanker after ; what is man, hout that part of himſelf, out of which ~ : was ſtill wanting, till he had a woman to keep him company: in this melancholy diſpoſition he again falls aſleep, an afreſh ; in which his imagination gluts his inclination with thoſe plea- te liquor to a man fick o , which ly for a minute quenches his he - º the diſtemper, and at laſt deſtroys sº e wit made God m all the PHILIP QUARLL. 241. ceſſive love is but ſhort lived; what is violent is not laſting ; time with pleaſure runs faſt away, but dwells long with ſorrow ; cares weaken love, and indiffer- ence breeds diſcontent; the jarrings follow, which introduce diviſion, the mother of poverty. º Theſe diſmal accidents, incumbent to inconſiderate love, coming into the amorous dreamer's mind, his great heat being quenched, he took time to confider his condition ; and, ſeeing himſelf liable to them is ſtruck with ſuch a fear as blots all pleaſure out of his thoughts, and fills them with dread of future cares, which he unadviſedly run himſelf into, and all for the ſake of a ſhort pleaſure. Starting out of his ſleep, at the approach of thoſe ſad troubles, he returns Heaven thanks that it was v but a dream ; and begs pardon for having given ſo much way to the concupiſcence of fleſh ; getting up, ugh ſooner than ordinary, left he ſhould fall aſleep, and dream again of women. º Having walked about till he thought it time for, the boy to riſe, he calls him up, and takes him to the place that he uſually went every morning and evening to fing pſalms; where the youth being come, and hearing ſo many different voices, and ſeeing nobody, •was ſcared out of his wits, and took to his heels, making towards the rock as faſt as he could : but as he was not acquainted with the eaſieſt and moſt practicable parts thereof, Quarll had made an end o his pſalm, and overtook him before he could get the ſea-ſide, into which he certainly would hav himſelf at the fright; but Quarll, who by the flaring, gueſſed his diſorder, not having the b - of the language, endeavoured to calm him by his lºº rer, ºn tº or ºn; ..., a & * * * 242 PHILIP quaRLL. iſelf; but could not keep off a violent fit, the fright occaſioned, which held him ſeveral minutes. The fit being over, he and the boy took away, at divers times, the remains of the cheſt, and what was in it, which they could not carry home the day before ; then taking up two guns, now ſaid he, theſe unlucky inſtruments, which were intended for de- itrućtion, ſhall be d for the preſervation of at they were t king them to his lodge, he ſets them at each fide of the door : then being dinner time, he ſtrikes a light, and ſets the boy to make a fire, whilſt he made ſome of the fiſh fit to fry, which he picked up upon the rock the evening before; then takes dripping, he ſaved when he roaſted any fleſh, to fry them with. The boy, who had lived ſome time in Holland, where they had uſed much butter, ſeeing dripping employed in room thereof, thought to pleaſe his maſter in mak ſome ; and as he had ſeen milk and cream in the bour, wanting a churn only, there being a indlet lying by empty, he takes out one of the fit, in which, the next day, he beat butter. ºuarll, ſeeing the youth induſtrious, begins to fan- om his countrymen ; and, as ſpeech is one t neceſſary faculties to breed and maintain ok pains to teach him Engliſh. ng acute and ingenious, was ſoon made it, and in fix months capable to ſpeak to what intent. The men, ſaid o as to give his maſter a relation of stwithſtanding the averſion he had conceiv- nation, ever fince the ill treatment he had # PHILIP QUARLL. As ſtrous Engliſh hermit, who ir and beard cover all his body, having got a great deal of money ſhowing them, encouraged others to come ; wher. upon ſeveral, joining together, hired a ſhip to fetch away the hermit, and what elſe they could find; therefore brought with them tools, and guns, to ſhoot what they could not take alive. Barbarous wretches! replied he, to kill my dear antelopes and ducks Pray, what did they intend to do with me * Why, ſaid the boy, to make a ſhow of you. To make a ſhow of me ! Sordid wretches 1 is a chriſtian then ſuch a rarity amongſt them 2 Well, and what were the ſaws and hatchets for 2 To cut down your houſe, which they intended, to make a drinking booth of. Oh, monſtrous ! what time and nature has been fif- teen years a completing, they would have ruined in a moment: well, thanks to Providence, their evil deſign is averted. Pray, what is become of thoſe ſacrilegious perſons 2 They are all drowned, ſaid the boy. Then, replies he, the heavens are ſatisfied, and I avenged : but how cameſ thou to eſcape 2 for thou waſt with them. No, replied the youth, I w upon the rock when their boat daſhed againſt was overſet with the ſame ſea, under the flat-l ed boat, where you found me. That was a happy overſet for thee. Well, is there no gr due to Providence for thy eſcape 2 Due to sº sº. º. he, why, I thought you had ſaved you let me out. Yes, replied Q ſent by Providence for that purpo kindly done too, ſaid the boy ; well, wher him, I will thank him ; doth he live her oor ignorant creature I replied Quarll ; why is every where ; what I didſt th rovidence : What religion art thou. - X 2 PHILIP QUARLL. mean: I ar rman by trade, which my father lived by. Well, ſaid Quarll, did he teach thee no- thing elſe? no prayers ? Prayers replied the lad : why, fiſhermen have no time to pray: that’s for them who have nothing elſe to do : poor folks muſt work, and get money; that’s the way of our town. Covetous wretches well, ſaid he, I grudge them not what they poſſeſs, ſince it is all the happineſs they aſpire at; but thou ſhalt learn to pray, which will be of far more advantage to thee than work, both here and hereafter : from which time he begins to teach him the Lord’s prayer, and ten command- ments: as alſo the principles of the chriſtian religi- on ; all which inſtructions the youth taking readily, won his affection the more : he likewiſe taught him to fing pſalms, which farther qualified him to be his companion in ſpiritual exerciſes, as well as in tempo- ral occupations. . Now, having company, he is obliged to enlarge his bed, the lodge being wanted for his antelopes htt breeding time : he adds, therefore, to his His other proviſions alſo wanting to be aug- l, and he having both tools and boards, out of boat, which he had taken to pieces, he and about making large boxes to ſalt ; then, with the boards that were table for the dwelling that he had for his kitchen ; as alſo ſhelves in the hat were made of wicker : then hav- ed his ſhell utenfils, that were ſtolen the e, he was completely furniſhed with all f conveniences; and, Providence ſupplying with other neceſſaries, there was no room PHILIP QUARLL. 24; left him for wiſhes, but for thankſgiving, which they daily moſt religiouſly paid. In this mott 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. É. * * *...* º Quarll, who before, thoug ſociety (the principal co bleſſed, now cannot expreſs his none in the world to be compared ing he might find no alteration unti § young man, not having met ſo many. * pointments in the world as he, had not quite with drawn his affection from it; his mind ſometimes will run upon his native country, where he has left his relations, and where he cannot help wiſhing to be himſelf: thus opportunity offering itſelf one day, as he went to get oyſters, to make ſauce for ſome freſh cod-fiſh which Quarll was dreſſing, he ſaw at a diſtance a ſhip, at which his heart fell a panting ; his pulſe double their motion; his blood grows warm- er, and warmer, till at laſt, inflamed with defi f : getting at it, he lays down the bag he brought to put the oyſters in ; as alſo the inſtrument to dredge them up with, and takes to ſwimming. The men on board, having eſpied him out, ſent their boat to take him up ; ſo he went away without taking his leave of him he had received ſo much good frº who, having waited a confiderable time, fearingſ accident would befal him, le. goes to ſeek for him; and being cº where he was to get the oyſters, he f inſtrument lie, and nobody with them, H ed ſeveral times without being anſwered, racking fears tortured his mind: ſometimes he d *%. º at the place the bag and X 3 246 PHILIP QUARLL. ſº he is fallen into ſome hole in the rock, there being many near that place where the oyſters were: he therefore with his ſtaff, 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 concludes ſome ſea-monſter had ºftolen him away, and weeping, condemns himſelf as the cauſe of this fatal accident; reſolving, for the future, to puniſh himſelf by denying his appetite; and only eat to ſupport nature, and not to pleaſe his jalate. Having given over hopes of getting him again, he returns home in the greateſt afflićtions, reſolving to faſt till that time the next day; but, happening to look weſtward, in which was the point the wind ſtood, he perceives ſomething like a boat at a great diſtance: wiping the tears off his eyes, and looking ſteadfaſtly, he diſcovers a fail beyond it, which quite altered the motive of his former fear; ſaid he, hath devoured him ; it is too that he has villanouſly left me : but what could I expect of his ſon, who had proječted ſuch evil againſt me? So ſaying, he went home, and made an end of dreſſing his dinner; and afterwards hangs up the pićture which he had taken down upon his account, being a true emblem of what he deſerved ; reſting himſelf contented, being but as he was before, and ra- ºr better ; fince he had more conveniences, and ls to till his ground, and dig up his roots with. § 3. . . ded himſelf to Providence, he re- and recreations, reſolving that pineſs for the future, being le temptation’s way, in which d daily lays the beſt men's ºne woºd at hopes in the duſt. PHILIP QUARLL. 247 Being again alone, the whole buſineſs of the houſe lies upon his hands, he now muſt prune and trim his habitation, that daily harbours him, being made of fine growing plants, which yearly ſhoot out young branches: this makes them grow out of ſhape. He muſt alſo till the ground; ſet and gather his peas and beans in their ſeaſon ; 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 eagle-neſting ; and every day dreſs his own vićtuals : all which neceſſary occupa- tions, beſides the time dedicated for morning and evening devotions, kept him wholly employed; which made his renewed ſolitude leſs irkſome. And, having all that afternoon to divert his thoughts, admiring all the way the wonderful-works of nature, both in the ſurpriſing rocks which ſurround the iſland, and in the delightful creatures, and admirable plants, that are in it: being weary with walking, he returns home, thanking kind Providence for ſetting him in ſo bleſſed a place, and in his way calls at his inviſible choir ; where, having ſung a thankſgiving pſalm, and his uſual evening hymn, he goes to ſupper, and - then to bed, with a thoroughly contented mind; which occaſions pleaſant dreams to entertain his . During his ſleep, his fancy is delighted with bein in nature’s garden of pleaſure, where none but h friends are permitted to enter. . The place appeared very ſpacious, a mirable form; full of all ſorts of mature’s works, both animals, vegetables and minerals, every individual thing in perfection: and though ſome were diſtant, yet all appeared as at hand. * * The lofty trees, which ſtood on a level ground, co- is, and of an ad- 248 PHILIP QUARLL. , wered with curious graſs, embalmed with many dif- ferent coloured flowers, exceeding in beauty any car- pet that the moſt expert artiſt could make, ſpread their branchy arms over creatures of all kinds, which lay beneath their delightful ſhades: there the bold lion lies by the innocent lamb ; the fierce panther near the harmleſs ſheep ; the ravenous wolf with the mild goat; leopard and deer, tiger and hare, repof- ed together in peace; on the trees, eagles, vultures, falcons, and hawks, quietly perched with the turtle and the dove. Theſe moſt agreeable objećts, joined with the de- lightful noiſe of the fountains falling into their baſons, and the purling ſtreams running their courſe, toge- ther with the various harmonious notes of divers kinds of finging-birds, put him into an ecſtaſy: ſure, ſaid he, this is the garden of Eden, out of which unfortu- nate Adam was caſt after his fall, as being a dwelling only for innocence. Having walked a little way, there being on every fide curious lanes, every one affording new objećts of admiration, he comes to a walk, edged with orange and lemon trees, full of fruit and bloſſoms, at the foot of which was a narrow bank bordered with jonquils, tuberoſes, hyacinths, and other delightful flowers, both for fight and ſmell: at the end of it there was an arbour of the ſame, but ſo beautiful, at at firſt fight he took it for a tapeſtry the moſt xpert artiſt had exerted himſelf in making, to ſhow le curioſity of trade, and greatneſs of his ſkill ; in it there ſat three ladies of uncommon beauty: the mid- §§§ who was the luftiett, appeared to be of a moſt ſedate countenance, a mo r of years, having both eſtabliſhed her ad ſettled her features: ſhe, at her right PHILIP QUARLL. 249 hand, ſeemed to be of a weaker conſtitution; ſhe had in her hand an olive branch bearing fruit, which, when gathered, was immediately ſucceeded with bloſ. ſoms; ſo that it never was without the one or the other: the lady who ſat on the left-fide, was more jolly and gay, yet looked ſomewhat careful: ſhe had in her hand a long veſſel, broad at one end, and ſharp at the other, like a horn, bending towards the point, full of all ſorts of fruits. Having ſtood ſtill a ſhort ſpace of time, looking at thoſe ladies, thinking it ill manners to interrupt their converſation ; they, perceiving his modeſty would not permit him to advance, roſe up, and went ano- ther way, to give him the opportunity of viewing the garden: he accordingly went quite round, till come to the place where he had begun his walk; where he ſaw a ſtately cock, of an extraord fize, ſtrut- ting from animal to animal, taking f oſt of them ſomething, whilſt they were aſleep; which having ſecured, he falls a crowing in ſuch a loud manner, that he ſtartled all the other creatures; which, being awake, and every one miſſing ſomething, challenged him with it; but he having crowed a ſecond time in an inſulting and daring manner, ſtrutted moſt haughtily away ; at which the loſers, being much offended, conſulted together on means to retake by force, what he had in ſo clandeſtine a manner taken from them ; chufing the lion for their director : but the watchful cock, whilſt they were indulging them- ſelves, carefully made ſufficient proviſions to maintain . what he had done, bid them all defianc º: There happening a great noiſe of waked him out of his dream; a Preſſed with notions of war, it at with terror : but being ſomewhat ſquealing, it , ſeized him. ttled, and the 250 pHILIP QUARLL. noiſe ſtill continuing, he perceived it proceeded from the two different kinds of monkeys in the iſland, which were fighting for the wild pomegranates that the high wind had ſhook off the trees the preceding -º * 1. night, which was very boiſterous. Having gueſſed the occaſion of their debate, he gets up, 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 ſurpriſed to ſee two inveterate enemies, who at other times never meet without fight- ing, at that juncture agree ſo well. - rifing fign of reaſon in thoſe brutes " * That m º which, is deciſion would compoſe their comrades nce, came to implore it, put him upon the fle&tions : would princes, ſaid he, be but reaſonable, as thoſe which by nature are irra- tional, how much blood and money would be ſaved Having admired the uneaſineſs of thoſe poor crea- tures, which ſtill went a few ſteps forward, and then backward to him : he was in hopes to decoy one or both into his lodge, by throwing meat to them: but thoſe exemplary animals hearing their fellows in trou- ble, had no regard to their ſeparate intereſt, taking no notice of what he gave them; but moving to and º tokens of uneaſineſs they could ex- noved him, that he haſtened to the preſence cauſed immediately a ceſſa- d each party moved a confiderable ir, waiting his ſharing the wind- ne, they quietly took thath PHILIP QUARE.L. 251 hich lay next each ki quarters. * , . . . . . . ; This accident which in ſome manner made out his dream of wars, brought it alſo freſh into his mind, which was full of cares, about his country, which he much feared, if any ſhould happen in Europe, would be involved therein ; and calling to remembrance the indigent diſpoſition he left it in, he feared it would lay it open to ſome uſurping prince's power : but left farther ſpeculation ſhould occaſion evil prognoſti- cation to diſturb his peace, he leaves the event of all things to the direction of Providence, and goes home to ſet down his dream, and the year he dreamed it, which was in 1690. Fourteen years more being paſt, every thing keep ing its natural courſe, there happened nothing extra- ordinary, each ſucceeding year renewing the plea- ſures the preceding had produced ; thunders and high winds being frequent, though not equally violent, he thought it not material to record them, or their effects; as blowing and throwing fiſhes, ſhells, empty veſſels, battered cheſts, &c. upon the rock ; only tranſactions and events wonderful and uncommon : and there happened a moſt ſurpriſing one a few days after, which, though of no great moment, is as wor- thy of record as any of far greater concern; being a wonderful effect of Providence, manifeſted in a mira- culous manner, though not to be ſaid ſupernatural. One morning, when he had roaſted a parcel thoſe roots, which he uſed to eat inſtead of bread, and this he commonly did once a week, it eating beſt when ſtale ; having ſpread them on his table and left to cool, he went out to walk, leaving his door. gå graced with all the greeabi d, and went to their different º 252 PHILIP QUARLL. nature could adorn it with, to make it delightful; a graſs carpet, embroidered with beautiful 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, clothed with pleaſant green leaves, trimmed with rich bloſ- ſoms of many colours, to divert his eye; a number of various ſorts of melodious finging birds perching in their moſt lovely ſhades, as though nature had itudied to excel man’s brighteſt imagination, and exquiſiteneſs of art : yet all thoſe profuſeneſſes of nature’s wonders are not ſufficient to keep away or expel anxious thoughts from his mind. It runs upon his two dear antelopes, the darling heads of his pre- ſent ſtock, which he took ſuch care to bring up, and were become ſo engaging, always attending him in thoſe fine walks; adding, by their ſwift races, active leapings, and other uncommon diverſions, to the na- tural pleaſantneſs of the place; which now, by their moſt lamented abſence, is become a dull memoran- dum of the barbarous manner in which they were ra- viſhed away from him. . In theſe melancholy thoughts, which his loneſome- neſs every now and then created, he returns home, where Providence had left a remedy for his grievance: a companion, far exceeding 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 manifeſt the unparalleled ſkill of na- ture, is ſent him by Providence, to diffipate his melancholy. … . . . . . § 3. Being come to his lodge, and beholding that won- derful creature, and in his own poſſeſſion, at the far- theſt end of it, and him at the entrance thereof to op- poſe its flight, if offered, he is at once filled with joy. 2 2 º - . . PHILIP QUARLL. 253 and admiration: long, ſaid he, I endeavoured in vain to get one, and would have been glad of any, though of the worſt kind, and even the meaneſt of the fort: and here kind Providence has ſent me one of unparalleled beauty. Having a confiderable time admired the beaſt, which all the while ſtood unconcerned, now and then eating of the roots that lay before him, he ſhuts the door, and goes in, with a reſolution of ſtaying with- in all day, in order to tame it, which he hoped would be no difficult matter, his diſpoſition being already pretty familiar, little thinking that Provi- dence, who ſent him thither, had already qualified him for the commiſſion he bore; which having found . . out by the creature’s ſurpriſing docility, he returns his benefactor his moſt hearty thanks for that mira culous gift. * . This moſt wonderful animal having, by its ſur- priſing tractability, and good-nature, joined to its matchleſs handſomeneſs, gained his maſter’s love, beyond what is uſual to place on any fort of beaſts; he thought himſelf doubly recompenſed for all his former loſſes, eſpecially for that of his late ungrate- ful companion, who, notwithſtanding all the obliga- tions he held from him, baſely left him, at a time he might be moſt helpful: and, as he fancied his dear Beaufidelle (for ſo he called that admirable creature) had ſome ſort of reſemblance to the pićture he fram- ed of him, he takes it down, thinking it unjuſt to bear in his fight that vile objećt, which could not in any wife claim a likeneſs to ſo worthy a creature as his beloved monkey. One day, as the 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 º - 254 . PHILIP QUARLL. his way a wild pomegranate, whoſe extraordinary fize and weight had cauſed it to fall off the tree : he takes it home, and then returns for his faggot ; in which time, Quarll, wiſhing the goodneſs of the infide might anſwer its outward beauty cuts it open; and finding it of a dull luſciouſneſs, too flat for eating, imagined it might be uſed with things of an acid and ſharp taſte : having therefore boiled ſome water, he puts it in a veſſel, with a ſort of an herb which is of the taſte and nature of creſſes, and ſome of the pome- #. º infuſe ſome time, now and then tirring it; which the monkey having taken notice of, did the ſame: but one very hot day, happening to lay the veſſel in the ſun, made it turn four. Quarll, who very much wanted vinegar in his ſauces, was well pleaſed with the accident, and ſo continued the ſouring of the liquor, which proved excellent, he made a five gallon veſſel of it; having feveral, which at times he found upon the rock. Having now ſtore of vinegar, and being a great lover of pickles, which he had learnt to make by ſee- ing his laſt wife, who was an extraordinary cook, made of all ſorts every year; calling to mind he had often in his walks ſeen ſomething like muſh- rooms, he makes it is buſineſs to look for ſome : thus he picked up a few, of which Beaufidelle (who followed him up and down) having taken notice, im- mediately ranges about ; and being nimbler footed than his maſter, and not obliged to ſtoop ſo low, picked up double the quantity in the ſame ſpace of time ; ſo that he ſoon had enough to ſerve him till the next ſeaſon. 23. . His good ſucceſs in making that ſort of pickle, en- courages him to try another; and, having taken no- tice of a plant in the wood that bears a ſmall green, s PHILIP QUARLL. 255 flower, which, before it is blown, looks like a caper, he gathers a few ; and their taſte and flavour being no way diſagreeable, 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 ſufficient quantity, with the help of his attendant ; ſtocking himſelf with two very pleaſant pickles ; but there is another which he admires above all : none to his mind, like the cucumber, and the iſland 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 ſo little reſembles them in make, nature, or taſte, it will pleaſe his fancy: he therefore examines every kind of buds, bloſſoms, and feeds ; having at laſt found that of a wild parſnip, which being long and narrow, almoſt the bigneſs and make of a pickling- cucumber, green and criſp withal, full of a ſmall flat feed, not unlike that of the thing he fain would have it to be, he pickles ſome 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 ſome for his dinner: the ſhells being tender and of a delicate green, it came into his mind, they might be made to imitate French beans: thy are, ſaid he, near the nature, I can make them quite of the ſhape, ſo be they have the ſame flavour. *Accordingly, he cuts them in long narrow ſlips, and pickles ſome, the other part he boils ; and there be-, ing none to contradićt their taſte, they paſſed current, for as good French beans as any that ever grew. The diſappointment of having ſomething more comfortable than water to drink being retrieved by producing, in the º, thereof, wherewithal to 2 . . . . . . .” 256 PHILIP QUARLL. make his eatables more delicious, he proceeds in his firſt proječt: and, taking neceſſary care to prevent that accident which intercepted ſucceſs in his firſt un- dertaking, he accompliſhes his deſign, and makes a liquor no ways inferior to the beſt cider: ſo that now he has both to revive and keep up his ſpirits, as well as to pleaſe his palate, and ſuit his appetite. Having now nothing to crave or wiſh for, but ra- ther all motives for content, he lies down with a peaceable mind, no care or fear diſturbing his thoughts: his ſleep is not interrupted with frightful fancies, but rather diverted with pleaſant and diverting dreams; he is not ſtartled at thunder or ſtorms, though ever fo terrible, his truſt being on Providence, who at ſun- dry times, and in various manners, has reſcued him from death, though apparently unavoidable ; being for above thirty years miraculouſly protećted and maintained in a place ſo remote from all human help and aſſiſtance. : Yet notwithſtanding his firmneſs, and whole truſt on Providence, he is obliged to give way to the weak- meſs of his nature : a #. and ſhocking noiſe is heard at a diſtance in the air, which, having reach- ed the place where he ſtood, covers it with darkneſs for ſeveral minutes; at which he is ſo alarmed, that he thinks himſelf paſt all hopes; till the noiſe being ceaſed, and that which intercepted the light diſperſ- ed, his ſcared ſenſes returning to their proper ſeat, and his ſtrayed reaſon recalled, he is aſhamed of the weakneſs of his faith, and begs pardon for his late miſtruſt of the continuation of Providence’s protec- tion, who had all along given him all imaginable rea- ſon to depend on it at all times: thus, having open- ed his door, he ſteps out to ſee if he could diſcover PHILIP QUARLL. 257 the cauſe of the late moſt ſurpriſing and ſudden dark- neſs, in a bright fun-ſhining day; which having found out by the vaſt number of dead birds of ſeveral kinds lying up and down the ground, he was ſeized with no ſmall amazement, though with leſs fear. From that moſt ſurpriſing aſpect he infers, there had been a battle of thoſe creatures in the air, the great number of which had occaſioned the late decreaſe. % > Having made refle&tions upon that aſtoniſhing tranſačtion, he can draw from thence no other infe- rence but a prognoſtication of dreadful wars in Eu- rope, from which he begs Heaven to protećthis native country : and left the dead birds, that lay in great numbers, ſhould (with lying) infect the iſland, he and his monkey carried them to the other ſide of the rock, throwing them into the ſea; only as many of them as had ſoft feathers on their breaſt and bellies, he plucked away, to ſtuff a pillow for the beaſt, be- ing a little too hot at nights for it to lie upon the bed. So having cleared the place, and being tired with often going up and down the rugged rock, he ſtayed at home the remainder of the day, and at night goes to bed; but, as the late omen of approaching evil had pre-occupied his thoughts in the day with cares concerning his country, his mind ran upon it in the night ; dreaming he ſees wives weeping, and melting into tears, taking their leave of their indul- , gent huſbands; hanging, deſtitute of ſtrength, about their necks, whoſe grief weighed them to the ground. Turning from that afflićting obječt, he ſees another as ſhocking; the old father, bathed in tears, embrac- ing his only ſon, bidding him farewell, and, with him, all the comforts of this life, and ſupport of his age. Moving his º: from that, they light 258 PHILIP QUARLL. on full as bad a fight ; the tender mother ſwooning in her dear child’s arms, whom an inexorable preſs- gang is hauling away. Thus every face expreſſing grief for a relation, or a friend ; not being able any longer to bear theſe terrifying obječts, with which the town abounded, he betakes himſelf to the coun- try; that, by keeping from the afflićted, he may avoid grief. Having quitted the town, he finds himſelf on a fudden, in a place as full of terrors, where he ſaw itreams of reeking blood here and there; looſe horſes kicking and prancing about ; ſome dragging their late riders by the ſtirrups; others wounded, and their guts hanging about ; at a diſtance, crowds of men in flame and ſmoke, confuſedly moving like heaps of duſt in a whirlwind, leaving behind them, as they moved, vaſt numbers of men and horſes, both dead and dying; ſome without legs, others without arms and abundance with but one of each. w % At a diſtance from thence, ſome in purſuit of their enemies, hacking and cutting them down all the way before them, like wood for fuel; others, flying from being ſlain, caſt themſelves into rapid rivers, where they periſh by thouſands. : As he was looking at thoſe terrible objećts, he finds himſelf on a ſudden furrounded by ruſtical ſoldiers, holding their ſwords and bayonets to his breaſt, and aſking him, in a furly manner, Whether High or Low At which being very much ſtartled, not know- ing what to anſwer, nor indeed what they meant, he told them, He was an Engliſhman; which they ap- pearing to be alſo, made him hope for better uſage; but they, ſeizing him in a violent manner, ſaid, he might be Engliſh, and yet an enemy to the country. *Then he awaked, in a wonderful fright; but, being PHILIP QUARLL. 259 come to himſelf, he concludes, that his dream pro- ceeded from his late ſurpriſe at the preceding day’s aſtoniſhing tranſačtions; therefore, having again re- commended his country to Heaven’s protećtion, he goes about making the bed for his monkey, as he had concluded on before, and with ſome fail-cloth, makes a caſe, ſtuffing it with the feathers he had ſaved for that purpoſe. The night being come, he lays the couching, which he made for the beaſt, by his own bed, and he very readily went to it, being very ſoft and eaſy. And, as cares for his country had in the day occu- pied his thoughts, his mind in the night is impreſſed with the ſubjećt, though not with ſo diſmal an idea as the preceding ; having ſince been diverted with fuch objećts as removed the terrifying aſpects which before offered themſelves to his imagination, which now is taken up with being in St. James’s park, where he had formerly taken pleaſure, and which he fancies had fince loſt many of its former agree- ableneſſes. z As he was walking, a report was raiſed, that a cer- tain great perſon (who, by his late great ſervices to the nation, had gained a title to the palace) was juſt deceaſed ; having, before his death, entailed the ſame upon a foreign Prince, of great renown : the ſurpriſ- ing piece of news occaſioned a ſudden alteration in every body’s countenance: ſome looked pale with grief, others red with wrath; every thing in nature ſeemed to expreſs a feeling for the loſs ; the trees ſhed half their virtues, and the graſs withered. This dull ſcene having laſted ſome ſmall time, the trees and graſs recover their former verdure, brighter than before; the lofty oaks, which he fancied bor- dered the mall, bore fine roſes in vaſt numbers. 260 PHILIP QUARLL. This additional beauty in thoſe noble plants, alrea- dy ſo famed abroad for their toughneſs and ſtrength, prompts people of all nations to come and refreſh themſelves under their lofty and refreſhing ſhades. Having with great ſatisfaction admired the ſurpriſ- ing improvement of the oaks, which, to his ima- gination, prognoſticated proſperity to the nation, he walks on northward, where he ſaw abundance of thiſtles, which made him wonder they were permit- ted to grow in a place where every thing ought to contribute to its agreeableneſs and pleaſantneſs; but, having confidered the ſtoutneſs of the plants, which denoted their being well-rooted, he judged it impoſ- ſible to clear the ground: beſides, the bees loving to ſettle on them, and probably ſucking more honey from their bloſſoms than any more agreeable or ſweet- ſcented flower; for that reaſon, he imagined they were not gathered. Walking back again, he meets with feveral noble- men, ſome with a blue cordoon, others with green, each with a gardening tool in his hand, going to turn up and till the ground, between that where the thiſtles grew, and that where the oaks ſtood : he was ſtartled to ſee thoſe great perſons, who hardly will concern themſelves with their own lands and poſſeſ- fions, labour to improve that wherein every private perſon had a ſhare. He ſtood ſome time, admiring their dexterity and readineſs at their own work; then walks on to the mall, which he found thronged with a multitude of people of all nations, every one hav- ing a roſe in his hand, wherewith they diverted them- ſelves as they walked. . * . . . --- Having gazed about him a confiderable time, he had a fancy to go and ſee how the noble gardeners went on with their work ; where being come, he s PHILIP QUARLL. 26, finds, to his great admiration, the ground had been ſo wonderfully well manured, that the oaks and thiſtles had ſtruck their roots through it, and met ; ſo growing together, had produced a plant which bore both roſes and thiſtles, to every body’s wonder; which made the thiſtles ſo valued ever fince, that there are but few great or fine gardens, which have not more or leſs of them. His monkey, being ſtartled out of its ſleep, in a mighty fright, ran behind his back ſqueaking, and awaked him in the midſt of his amazement ; being exceedingly pleaſed with his late dream, of which he conceived a mighty good omen to old England, dif- fering ſo much from the preceding, both in nature and fignification. . Thus though earlier than he uſually roſe, he gets up to ſet it down, whilſt freſh in his mind, and alſo the year, being 1707, then takes a walk before break- faſt, and the beaſt with him; which, being not yet recovered of its late fright, keeps cloſe to his maſter, every now and then looking behind, as though ſtill afraid; at which Quarll concludes the creature muſt needs have been diſturbed in his ſleep, the night be- fore, with ſome frightful dream ; which made him wonder that an animal void of reaſon, and incapable of refle&tion, ſhould be ſuſceptible of imagination. The day being paſſed without any extraordinary occurrence, he made no further remark, but follow- ed his uſual occupation, and then went to his reſt, and the monkey to his new bed as the night before, which he took care to draw as cloſe to his maſter as he could ; then, having been twice or thrice about the room, examining every corner, he lies down, and ſleeps quietly till the dawning of the morning; at which time he ſtarts up again, as the night before. 262 PHILIP QUARLL. Quarlı, being a ſecond time awaked in the ſame manner, and much about the ſame hour, concludes the cauſe muſt proceed from the pillow, and reſolves to experiment it himſelf the next night ; at which time crowds of terrifying aſpects appear in his imagi- nation which allure #. whole faculties, and ſet all his ſenſes in an uproar; his eyes are taken up with frightful objećts, and his ears filled with a terrible noiſe ; at which the reſt of his ſenſes have loſt their offices, and are become uſeleſs. Being awake the next morning, he finds himſelf inclined to believe that the pillow had really ſome in- fluence on his imagination ; but as one night’s expe- rience was not a ſufficient ſolution to his inquiry in that ſupernatural operation, having often dreamed before he uſed the pillow, he reſolves to try it ſeve- ral nights ſucceſſively ; during which his monkey ſlept very quiet, and he as diſturbed. This works a great way towards the perſuaſion of what he had a #. fancy to believe; yet, to be better ſatisfied ºf the reality of it, he lays by the pillow for three or four nights together; during which time both he and the beaſt ſlept very quiet. This added much to his opinion, that evil effluvia iſſued out of thoſe feathers the pillow was ſtuffed with ; but as he formerly dreamed, and had many nights intermiſſion between thoſe that were entertain- ed with dreams, he will once more try it, before he concludes that it is ſo ; thus puts it under his head again that night : and, as it was the laſt experiment, it proved alſo the moſt troubleſome, he being at that time terrified with more ſhocking obječts than the preceding ; which, though they repreſent fierce and bloody battles to his imagination, yet were leſs terri- ble to him having not, as yet, diſcerned his native %. %. PHILIP QUARLL. 263 country engaged therein, whom now he finds to be the principal party concerned, on which all ſucceſs depends, and which cannot be ſtrove for without vaſt expenſes, and irretrievable loſs of his dear country- men ; for which his heart bled as plentifully as for thoſe whom he dreamed he ſaw in their gore. - Having with terror and grief fatigued his eyes with the moſt ſhocking and afflićting effects of war, men and horſes lying as thick upon the ground as º in a meadow, and ſtreams of blood running like o many brooks, ſupplied by a ſtrong ſpring, he lifts up his eyes to heaven, imploring an end to that execrable devourer of mankind. - And whilſt his eyes were ſtill fixed to the heavens, he ſees vićtory ruſhing through thick clouds of ob- ſtacles approaching to her ; which having overcome, ſhe ſettled over the army his countrymen belonged to, over whoſe head ſhe ſhook and flouriſhed her co- lours, pointing at approaching peace, attended with plenty; but on a ſudden there aroſe an infectious miſt out of the ground, which cramping the Engliſh- men’s hands, they could no more uſe their con- quering arms, this fatal accident having both encou- raged and ſtrengthened the enemy, they fell on the unfortunate remains of the army with unmerciful fury; who now having loſt all their ſupport and de- pendence, were moſt cruelly cut to pieces ; at which moſt diſmal and afflićting objećt he awaked : and though this dream was a ſufficient proof of the fea: thers’ influence, yet he cannot be ſatisfied but it muſt be ominous, having ſo much relation to the prºced- ing; therefore ſets it down with them; and, for a more certain convićtion of what he had all cauſe ima- ginable to believe, he is reſolved to try his monkey once more the night following: but the beaſt, who 264 PHILIP QUARLL. had not yet forgot the uneaſineſs that the bed had cauſed him, choſe to lie on the ground; which en- tirely convinced Quarll, that there was a malignant quality in thoſe feathers : wherefore he throws them into the ſea, and fills the caſe with a ſort of ſoft moſs, which grew at the bottom of a particular tree, on which the creature lay very quiet ever after. And as yearly ſtripping the eagles of their eggs had prevented their increaſe, it alſo favoured and ad- vanced that of the creatures in the iſland, on whoſe young they fed ; ſo that the number of the wild mon- keys i. conſiderably augmented, made their food ſcant, which cauſed them now and then to come and ſteal ſomewhat out of Quarli’s ground. Beaufidelle, whoſe good keeping and warm lying had made him thrive in bigneſs and ſtrength, exceeding his kind, finding ſome of them ſtealing his maſter’s roots beat them away; which obliged thoſe ſubtile creatures to come ſeveral together, the better to be able to en- counter him; which Quarll having taken notice of, and being willing to add a new ſport to his uſual di- verſions, cuts a ſtick of the length and bigneſs that the creature could manage, which he gave him ; and, taking his own ſtaff, exerciſes it before him, and he did the ſame with his; and apprehending what uſe it was given him for, he had it often in his hands, and with it drove away the others when they came, though ten or a dozen together ; ſo that the roots were very well guarded by his continual watching ; which made thoſe ſly and ſpiteful creatures watch an opportunity to take him at a diſadvantage; thus finding him one morning as he was going for water by himſelf, as he was wont to do, and being then without his ſtaff, of which they ſtood in great fear, a confiderable number fell upon him, and ſo bit him 3 : PHILIP QUARLL. 265 and beat him, that he lay as dead; but his maſter appearing, who, being uneaſy at his extraordinary ſtay, was gone to ſee what was the occaſion thereof, put them to flight; and they left the poor creature with juſt breath enough to keep his life in, and ſcarce ſtrength ſufficient to draw it. uarll, being come to the place where his beloved Beaufidelle lay in a moſt diſmal bloody condition, could not forbear ſhedding tears to ſee him thus mi- ſerably dying : but, finding ſtill breath in him, it gave him hopes of his recovery : and taking him up in his arms, with all the care he could, haſtens home, and gives him a little of the liquor he had made, which by that time had got both body and ſpirit; then having laid him upon his bed, and co- vered him with his winter wrapper, he makes a fire, warms ſome of the liquor and freſh butter, wherewith he waſhes his fores; ſo lays him down again, giving him all the careful attendance he could during his illneſs, which held but one week ; at the end of which he died, to his unſpeakable grief; who, from that time, grew ſo melancholy, that he had not the courage to go on with his memorial ; till having a moſt remarkable dream, about twelve months after, he changed his reſolution, and proceeds in his me- moirs: and as he ſet down his dream, he alſo did the death of his beloved beaſt, it happening near the ſame time. , ; ... Having ſpent the year but dully, for want of his diverting company at home, to put this as much out of his mind as he could, he walked the ſpare hours he had left from his uſual occupation. Thus being one day ſomewhat fatigued, having loſt his wonted alacrity, he ſat down under the next cluſter of trees 266 PHILIP QUARLL. # leaving the old #. ſtringing he came at ; and, being in a dull diſpoſition, was ſoon lulled aſleep, at a loneſome note of a ſort of a melancholy bird, which ſhuns other company (though of its own kind) at all times but in breeding times; which having placed itſelf in the thickeſt and ſhadieſt part of the grove, where Quarll had made choice to lie, falls a ſinging his melancholy notes; which being ſuitable to his diſpoſition of both body and mind, ſoon lulled him aſleep; during which, he dreamed that he ſaw an old man fitting in a large circle, around which all the figns of the zodiac were, and the old gentleman appeared extremely buſy ſtringing of ſmall beads, ſome white and ſome black; and when he had ſtrung a certain number, he began another ſtring, and ſo on. He had the curioſity to tell how many he put on a ſtring, ſo keeps an account of the next he did begin, and tells ; fixty : having made as many of thoſe ſtrings as there were beads in each, he puts them together, and begins again to ſtring, mix- ing white and black as they came to his hand, twiſt- ing every fixtieth ſtring in parcels, till he had made fixty of them, which he neatly plaits together, pro- ceding as from the beginning, and makes twenty- four of thoſe plaits, which he weaves together, mak- ing a flat piece of bead-work, changeable upon black, which, when looked upon one way, ſeemed pleaſant; and being ſeen from another, as diſagreeable. He worked on till he had made three i. and fixty- four ſuch pieces, then lays them up in a bundle, and goes to work again, beginning to itring as at firſt. * Having looked himſelf weary with ſeeing ſtill the ſame, of which he could make nothing, he goes away, . . ſtring #. beads: who, ſeeing him go, lays by his work, and follows him ; and having overtaken him, aſked him what he had r 267 been looking at all that time He being ſurpriſed at the ſurly queſtion, modeftly replies he had been admiring his work ; in doing which he hoped there was no offence. No, ſaid the old man, provided thou learneſt ſomething by what thou haſt ſeen. To which he anſwered, It was impoſſible for him to learn ſuch a myſterious buſineſs with once ſeeing it done; ſo much leſs, being entirely a ſtranger to it. A ſtranger to it, art thou ? replied the old man, in a ſurly manner; and haſt waſted ſo much of my work : I am TIME, whom thou haſt often ill-uſed; and thoſe white and black beads, that thou haſt ſeen me ſtring, are good and bad moments, I crowd into minutes, which I link into hours; thus weave days, wherewith years are compoſed. Thou haſt ſeen me complete the preſent, which is reckoned the year 1713. I tell thee, before the enſuing is ended, I will grace the Britiſh throne with an illuſtrious race. to the end of Kings' reigns; ſo vaniſhed. Then he awaked in a great ſurpriſe, and goes home, ponder- ing on his dream ; of which he inferred, that if there be any ſignification in the roving conceptions of the mind, this muſt prognoſticate the ſpeedy acceſſion of ſome great monarch upon the Engliſh throne: ſo ſets down in his memorial, that moſt remarkable dream which happened in 1713; heartily wiſhing the accompliſhment thereof, for the quiet and proſperity of his dear country. * There happened nothing after for the ſpace of four years, but great thunders and lightnings in the ſummer, and abundance of hail and ſnow in the win- ter, with now and then ſtorms, which left ſeveral forts of fiſhes in the clefts and holes of the rocks, and ſometimes fragments of ſtaved ſhips, and battered caſks, and broken cheſts, with a plank, and ſuch- Z 2 268 PHILIP QUARLL. like produćts of ſhipwreck, not worth recording : by which means for want of employment, he has ſeveral idle and fullen hours in the day-time, which his late beloved animal’s diverting company made ſlip away with pleaſure, and for want of which they now creep ſlowly on ; being loaded with dull and heavy thoughts, which made thoſe walks irkſome, he at that time took for eaſe; that by the diverſity of ob- jećts abroad, his mind might be withdrawn from his anxious ſolitude. 3. Having one day peruſed his memorial, as he com- monly did once a year, the dream he had in 1713, wherein TIME predićted ſuch great happineſs to his country the enſuing, made ſuch an impreſſion on his mind that he always thought of it. Accordingly, being walking, and the day proving extraordinary hot, he goes to ſhelter himſelf in one of his natural groves; where, having laid himſelf down on the graſs, he was ſoon lulled aſleep ; during which, the idea he had conceived of his former dream repreſent- ed to his imagination a moſt majeſtic and graceful monarch, fitting on a magnificent throne, round which ſtood many delightful olive-plants, which much added to his luſtre. Having, with a great deal of pleaſure, gazed at the moſt graceful countenance of the king, which denot- ed juſtice, equity, love, and clemency, he gave hea- ven thanks for the mighty bleſfing beſtowed on his country, coming away, in order to return to his iſland, with this additional happineſs to the many he already enjoyed. w Being come from court, on his journey he meets the ſame old gentleman of whom he dreamed the year before; who, taking him by the hand, ſaid, PHILIP QUARLL. 269 I find thou haſ best to ſee the accompliſhment of my predićtion. Now, I’ll tell thee more : Ere one thouſand ſeven hundred and ſixty is written, § > All diviſions, remember, will ceaſe in Great- Britain. Next, I will ſhow thee what I have done to ſecure the accompliſhment of my prophecy; then takes him to a high place, from whence he could ſee into the cabinets of all the princes in Europe: in ſeveral of which, he took notice, lay a vaſt heap of rich and coſtly things, but confuſed, ſhapeleſs, and fit for no uſe; now, ſaid the old man to him, theſe are diſap- pointments and defeated projects, made to intercept what I determined ; then vaniſhes: at which he awaked, exceeding glad to find himſelf ſafe in his bleſſed iſland, and wonderfully pleaſed with his dream, which betokened ſo much good to his dear country. This was the concluſion of his records in 1724. * % ED. DoRRINGton. FINIS, Z 3 HENRY MOZLEY HAS JUST PUBLISHED NEW EDITIONS of T H E Follow in G EXCELLENT BOOKS : HENRY'S Expoſition of the Old and New Teſta- ment, with Pračtical Remarks and Obſervations, to which is prefixed a brief Sketch of the Life of the Author, 6 vols. 4to. boards, £6.6s. 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