Hubbard
mary
Voyages
PR
3541
.483
H6
1840
P
A
S
• .*.**
1
POR
C
:
janetary

اول
Linna
PR
3541
L83
}
پر عداوت
1
i
*.
*
ܘ
S

I!
-}
Res
"Regent L. L. Fibtard's
炸
​11-18-1725
THE
WHO WAS LATELY DISCOVERED ON AN UNINHABITED ISLAND IN THE SOUTH SEA, WHERE HE HAD LIVED ABOUT FIFTY YEARS WITHOUT ANY
HUMAN ASSISTANCE.
ENGLISH HERMIT;
OR, UNPARALLELED SUFFERINGS AND SURPRISING ADVENTURES OF
MR PHILIP QUARLL,
{
PREFACE.
--
རྞནྟུ
TRUTH and fiction have of late been so promiscuously
blended together in two performances of this nature,
that, in the present case, it seems absolutely necessary
to distinguish the one from the other. If Robinson
If Robinson
Crusoe, Moll Flanders, and Colonel Jack, have had
their admirers among the lower rank of readers, it is
as certain that the morality, in masquerade, which
may be discovered in the Travels of Lemuel Gulliver,
has been an equal entertainment to the superior class
of mankind.
1-44
*:
When Mr Dorrington undertook this voyage, he set
sail, as is well known, from Bristol to the South Sea,
and traded all along that coast to Mexico, now called
New Spain.
And he is now making a second voyage to the same
places.
To proceed to the work itself. The first Book con-
tains a relation of Mr Dorrington's discovery of Mr
Quarll; his several conferences with him; a descrip-
tion of the island, and the manner of our hermit's living
there; with many other curious particulars.
The second and third Books are the contents of the
hermit's parchment-roll above mentioned, and con-
tain the most surprising, as well as various, turns of
fortune ever yet recounted in any work of this kind.
And although the continued series of misfortunes
which attended him seemed to render his life an ex-
ample of the most unhappy state of human nature, yet
we do not find so great an enormity in his actions that
Mr Edward Dorrington is descended from a very
ancient and honourable family in Staffordshire. His vengeance should pursue him so closcly by unparalleled
grandfather, Mr Joseph Dorrington, removed out of crosses. If polygamy could call down such divine resent-
that county to Frome in Somersetshire; his employments, we must be silent, nor farther urge his fate.
However, for this fact he was brought to justice by
was that of a very considerable grazier. The issue
he left at his decease was one son, Richard (the father the laws of his country, and he accounts for the in-
of my friend), and two daughters. Mr Richard Dor- ducements of his committing that sin at his trial.
rington for some time was a student at Gray's inn; This reflection, therefore, should be wiped off, since he
This reflection, therefore, should be wiped off, since he
but, liking a country life best, he having thoroughly is now become the humblest of penitents.
qualified himself, retired to Frome, the above-men-
tioned residence of his father, where he married Mrs
Margaret Groves, of Taunton, a gentlewoman of about
a thousand pounds' fortune. Soon after his marriage,
he went and settled at Bath, where the integrity of
The observations throughout these sheets will be
found to be modest, serious, and instructive, and all
centre in the unerring moral, that—
"Whate'er we do, or wheresoe'er we're driven,
I
his fair practice soon rendered him eminent in his pro-
fession. He acquired a very competent estate, and
died in the year 1708, having no other issue than his
only son, the present Mr Edward Dorrington, whom
he had put to be bred a merchant under the care of
Mr Stephen Graham, of Bristol. His diligence and
courteous behaviour during his servitude so highly re-
commended him to his master's esteem, that, when his
time was expired, he admitted him into a moiety of
his commerce, married him to his daughter, and gave
her a handsome portion suitable to his merit.
Still, we must own, such is the will of Heaven."
have discharged two promises; the one made by Mr
To conclude. In the publication of these papers
Dorrington to the Hermit, and the other made by
myself to Mr Dorrington: and that they may mect
with a reception as candid as they are useful is the
hearty wish of
ten
The happiness of my acquaintance with him began
[ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY—No. 101.]
71
?
Now it may, without the least arrogance, be affirmed
that, though this surprising narrative be not so replete
with vulgar stories as the former, or so interspersed
with a satirical vein as the last of the above-mentioned
treatises, yet it is certainly of more use to the public
than either of them, because every incident herein
related is real matter of fact. But because my share
in this work is no other than that of a bare editor, I
think it my duty to account for the possession of this
manuscript.
It was put into my hands about a year ago by Mr
Dorrington, an eminent merchant, with full liberty to
publish it when and in what manner I thought most
proper. I hope, therefore, it will not be deemed im-
pertinent to give some account of my friend, as a
reputation to the work itself.
1
in his apprenticeship; and has, with the greatest sa-
tisfaction to me, continued ever since.
As to the genuineness of this treatise, I am farther
to assure the reader that, as Mr Dorrington is allowed
by all who knew him to be a gentleman of unques-
tionable veracity, and above attempting an imposition
on the public; so the first Book herein was wholly
written by himself, and the second and third Books
were faithfully transcribed from Mr Quarll's parch-
ment-roll, which was a continuation of what my friend
had begun.
The public's humble servant,
P. L.
ON THE HERMIT'S SOLITUde.
BEHOLD a man in his first class of years,
When youthful sports made way for growing cares,
The chequer'd fortunes of a manly age,
F
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; Heaven never ill intends.
Suff'rings are sent to us from God above,
To make us practise 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 sin than sin itself abounds.
In soft repose, Quarll empires does disdain;
Free from disquiet, solitude 's his gain.
Thoughts more sublime, a haven more serenc,
Nought e'er to vex him that may cause the spleen.
Methinks I with him share of Eden's grove,
And wish no better Paradise to rove.
Here's not Ambition with her gaudy train,
Nor Envy trampling down the poor or mean;
Nor Avarice nor haughty Pride invade,
Nor can Remorse his slumb'ring nights upbraid;
In peace he rests, unenvied or unknown,
And pities monarchs on their toilsome throne,
No king that reigns but must, as mortals, die;
And when they rule, no subject should ask why?
Heav'n grants them license; and, when God gives laws,
Where's the bold man that dares dispute the cause?
Would the great men from one so mean be told
They serve a crown for int'rest and for gold?
'Tis with content Quarl! lives, he's truly bless'd,
Has nought to dread, nor is with aught distress'd;
Prays for his country, and its present prince,
That he may reign in heav'n when called from hence.
Here, in these lonely shades, he just uprose,
A type of resurrection to disclose;
A resurrection from a watery hell,
Where shoals of terror strove which should excel;
A resurrection, 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 sins, both old and new;
I'd wish myself as happy-not more great;
But so unspotted in his present state,
I'd know no change; but, when God calls, obey,
Prepar'd in my account for judgment-day;
To more substantial and eternal joys.
Then happy rise, from cares and worldly toys,
This honest Hermit, at a transient view,
Seems to be born all precedent t' out-do;
Something uncommon makes him wond'rous seem;
Sound are his morals, drawn from ev'ry theme.
Thus from our English Hermit learn to know
That early piety opposes woe.
Thro' ev'ry stage of life see Philip tost,
And on a desert shore by tempest cast,
Where he's most happy, when imagin'd lost.
So true it is the God's our good design,
As lab'ring slaves dig diamonds from a mine.
From rugged rocks the sailors gain a prize,
By true repentance here on earth, be found
And, shipwreck'd oft, from death to life arise;
So may we at the last dread trumpet's sound,
Acceptable in heav'n, where joys abound!
In grateful hymns hail in the new spring-day;
And, like the angels, never cease to pray.
A kingdom Quarll doth undisturb'd enjoy;
He's rais'd a monarch from an abject boy.
And here I can't omit the pencill'd plan
Of Beau-fidelle, his monkey, and his man.
The docile beast most servilely obeys,
And justly merits more than human praise;
A beauty of his kind, good-natur'd, too,
A brute so pleasing, wonderful and new;
Subservient to his lord, loving and just,
Where's human servant we can thus intrust?
"
354
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
fine trees and here and there small groves, which we
judged to be composed of forty or fifty several trees;
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 considerable spot of ground, still
growing less as they stood farthest from the old body.
Having walked some time under that most sur-
prising and wonderful plant, admiring the greatness
of Nature's works, we went on finding several of the
same in our way wherein harboured monkeys, but
their swift flight prevented our discerning their co-
lours; yet, going on, we found there were two kinds,
one having green backs, yellow faces, and bellies; the
other grey, with white bellies and faces, but both sorts
exceeding beautiful.
BOOK 1.
AN ACCOUNT HOW MR QUARLL WAS FOUND OUT; WITH
A DESCRIPTION OF HIS DRESS, HABITATION, AND Uten-
SILS; AS ALSO HIS CONVERSATION WITH THE persons
WHO FIRST DISCOVERED HIM.
HAVING Concluded those mercantile affairs which I
undertook by this voyage to negotiate, 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 accidentally 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 extent;
but the access to it was very dangerous, by reason of
the rocks, which reach so far under water, being in
some places too shallow for boats, and in others too
deep to ford over; and the sea, commonly very rough
in that place, hitherto prevented further research,
supposing the advantage which might accrue from
the land would not countervail the cost and trouble
of making it habitable; for that he and some friends
had, on a fine day, as now it 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; only 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, being seldom without
when he walks on the sea-shore. These fish are
somewhat larger than a herring in its prime, skinned
like a mackarel, made as a gudgeon, and of divers
beautiful colours, especially if caught on 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 curiosity
to go and catch some; and he being, as usual, pro-
vided 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 young fellow, one of the long-boat's
crew belonging to the ship I was come over in, whose
master being just come on shore and not expected to
return speedily, he readily consented to row us thither
for about the value of a shilling.
Being come to the place, we found extraordinary
sport; the fishes were so eager that our lines were no
sooner in but we had a bite.
Whilst we were fishing, the young man who rowed
us thither spying a cleft in the rock, through which
he saw a light, had a mind to see what was at the
other side, so put off his clothes in order to wade to
it; thus, having taken the hitcher of the boat, he
groped along for sure footing, the rock being very full
of holes.
"Gentle-
Being come to the cleft he crept through, and in a
short time returned, calling to us with precipitation,
which expresssed both joy and surprise.
men! gentlemen!" 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'll find here much better
business." Having by that time caught a pretty hand-
some dish of fish, we put up our tackling, fastened our
boat to the rock, and so we went to see this new-
found land.
Being come at the other side of the rock, we saw,
as he said, a most delightful country; but despaired
going to it, there being a lake about a mile long at the
bottom 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 water,
finding it all the way but breast-high, we wont in also
and waded to the other side, which ascended gently,
about five or six feet from the lake, to a most pleasant
land, flat and level, covered with a curious grass,
something like camomile, but of no smell, and of an
agrecable 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
height and largeness. Being come to a place where
the trees stood in such a disposition as gave our sight
a greater scope, we saw, at some distance, a most
delightful wood of considerable extent.
The agreeableness of the perspective made by na-
ture, both for creating pleasure and condolence of
grief, prompted my curiosity to a view of the delights
which the distance we were at might, in some mea-
sure, rob us of: but Alvarado, who till then had dis-
cerned nothing whereby we could judge the island to
be inhabited, was fearful, and would not venture far
ther that way, lest we should of a sudden be sallied
upon by wild beasts out of the wood; and as I could
not discommend his precaution, the thickness of it
giving room to believe there might be dangerous crea-
tures in it; so we went southward, finding numbers of
At some distance we perceived three things standing
together, which I took to be houses. "I believe,"
said I, "this island is inhabited, for, if I mistake not,
yonder are dwelling places."
"So they are," said Alvarado; "and therefore I
don't think it wisdom to venture any farther, lest they
should be savages and do us hurt." So he would have
gone back, but I was resolved 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 doth
not always succeed danger, danger doth 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 can't avoid them, here are three of us, a good long
staff, with an iron point at one end and an 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 arbours,
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 con-
cealed my doubt, lest I should intimidate Alvarado,
so that he should run away, to which he was very
much inclined. I only slackened my pace, which
Alvarado perceiving, imagined I saw some evil coming,
which he thought unavoidable; and not daring to go
from my company, he only condoled his misfortune
saying he dearly repented taking my advice, that he
feared we should pay dearly for our silly curiosity;
for indeed those things were more like thieves' dens,
or wild people's huts, than Christians' habitations.
4
By this time we were come near a spot of ground
pretty clear of trees, on which some animals were
feeding, which I took to be goats, but Alvarado fan,
cied them to be deers by their swift flight at our
appearing. However, I inferred by their shyness that
we were out of the way in our judgment concerning
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 for:
merly lived there, and is either dead or gone." Alva-
rado who, to that time had neither heard nor seen
anything that could contradict what I said, began 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
savages, they far exceed our expert artists." Their
complete architecture without the craft of the artist;
regularity appeared unconfined to the rules of art, and
nature and time only being capable of bringing them
capable of bringing them
to that perfection. They were neither houses, huts,
nor arbours; yet had all the usefulness and agree
ments of each.
Having sufficiently admired the uncommon beauty
of the outside without interruption, but rather diverted
with the most agreeable harmony of various singing
birds as perched on a green hedge which surrounded
about one acre of land near the place, we had the
curiosity to see the inside, and being nearest the mid-
dlemost, 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 the top, which
were full of leaves, and spread over, making a most
pleasant canopy to the mansion beneath.
Being full of admiration at the wonderful structure
and nature of the place, we came to a door which was
made of green twigs, neatly woven and fastened with
a small stick, through a loop made of the same.
The door being fastened without, gave us encourage-
ment 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 a hard dry earth, very smooth and
clean. We had the curiosity to examine what it was
made of, and found it another subject of admiration.
The covering was a mat about three inches thick,
made of a sort of grass, which, though as dry as the
oldest hay, was as green as a leek, felt as soft as cotton,
and was warm as wool; the bed was made 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, fastened
upon four sticks driven into the ground, and by it a
chair made of green twigs, as 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;
but the inside being bare, we found it to be several
trees whose bodies met close and made a solid wall,
which, by the breadth of every stem, we judged to be
about six inches thick, their bark being very smooth,
and of a pleasant olive colour, made a mighty agree-
able wainscoting. The roof, which was hung very
thick with leaves, was branches which reached from
end to end, and were crossed over by the side one
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 uncasi-
ness, expecting the host's return every moment, hin-
having slightly looked into the chest, which lay open,
dered my examining everything more narrowly; and
wherein we saw nothing but sheets of parchment,
which bis 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 sight of which
much alarmed my company, and I must confess,
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 pictures, 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, appeared not to
have been fit for use for many years, renewed my
former opinion, supposing them to be the effects of
some shipwreck, which the hermit found upon the
rocks. But my company persisting in their own,
hastened out, and would have gone quite away without
seeing any more, had I not, by many arguments, 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 being obliged to ac-
quiesce, he consented to go and examine the other, it
though quite of another nature, but much of the same
being as worthy of admiration as that we had seen,
height and make.
The next we came at was covered all over with the
same sort of grass as grew on the ground, which lay as
even as though it had been mowed and rolled. Be-
hind it were several lodges, made as it were for some
dogs, but we neither saw nor heard any.
Having viewed the place all round, we posted the
young fellow with us at the outside, to give notice
when anybody appeared, lest we should be surprised
whilst we saw the inside; so having opened the door,
which was made and fastened after the manner of the
first, we went in, expecting to find another dwelling-
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 utensils, some being
scorched at the outside as having been on the fire, but
exceedingly clean within; the rest were both inside
and outside as fine as nakes of pearl.
1
At one end of the room was a hole cut in the ground
like stew-stoves 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 ap-
peared to have been fire lately, by wood, coals, and
ashes fresh made: this confirmed my opinion that it
was a 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 utensils instead of weapons. "I hope," said
he, "we are not in so great a danger as I feared; here
cannot be many men, unless they crowd together in
yonder place; and if so, they would have been here
before now, had any been in the way." His fears
being in a great measure dispersed, we looked about
more leisurely; and seeing several shells that were
covered, on a shelf that lay across two sticks that were
stuck in the wall, which was made of turf, we had the
curiosity 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 sorts of
dried fishes, and upon the ground stood, uncovered,
two chests with fish and flesh in salt,
.
These provisions being somewhat too voluptuous for
a hermit, gave us room for speculation. "I have
lived," said Alvarado, “at Mexico those six years, and
have been at Peru above twenty times, and yet never
heard talk of this island; the access to it is 80 difficult
and dangerous that I dare say we are the first that
have been on these sides of the rocks. I am very apt
to believe that a company of determined buccaneers,
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 resort
in caves up and down these rocks." Really I could
not well gainsay it, being too probable, yet I would not
altogether acquiesce to his opinion, lest he should
thereby take a motive to go away before we had seen
the other place.
I must confess," said I, "here's room for conjec-
tures, but no proof of certainty: however, let it be as
you say, it is a plain case there are none to disturb
us; therefore, whilst we have liberty, let us see the
other place." So we fastened the door as we found
it, and went to the next, which was shut after the
same manner as the two preceding, but made of quite.
different stuff, being a complete arbour composed of
trees, planted within a foot of one another, whose
branches were woven together in such a regular man-
ner 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 uniform wing to it. ·
The coolness of the arbour removed our doubts of
its being another dwelling, unless only used in hot
weather.
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 another 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 atay, but concluded to
haste and get our fish dressed, it being near dinner
time, and as the trees stood very thick inland, and
might conccal men from our sight till we came too
near to shun them, we thought it proper to walk on
the outside near the rocks, that we might see at some
distance before us.
Walking along, a phlegm sticking in my throat, I
happened to hawk pretty loud; the noise was answered
from, I believe, twenty places of the rock, and in as
many different sounds, which alarmed Alvarado, who
took it to be a signal from men concealed up and down
the rock, not considering the difficulty of their coming
at us, there being a lake at the foot of it which they
must have been obliged to wade over, and which would
have given us time to get away; but fear, which often
blinds reason, represented the evil infallible to his
thought, which was morally impossible. I did all I
could to make him sensible they were but echoes; and,
to convince him thereof, I gave a loud hem, which
was answered in like manner; but by being a second
time repeated, and by a louder voice, I was certain
the last did not proceed from me, which put me in
apprehension that somebody beside myself had hemmed
also. My companion, whose countenance being turned-
as pale as death, expressed the excess of his fears,
would have run away, had not the voice come from the
very way we were to go. <<
Now," said he, (hardly
able to utter his words for trembling,) "you are, L
hope, convinced that it would have been safer for us
to retire, instead of gratifying your unreasonable du
riosity; what do you think will become of us?" The
young fellow, at these words, falls a weeping, saying,
he wished he had missed the getting of that money
which was likely to be dearly earned. I must confess
I began to be a little apprehensive of danger, and
wished myself safe away, but concealed my thoughts,
heartening them as well as I could, and representing
the danger equal, either moving forwards or standing
still, I at last persuaded them to go on
We were scarcely gone forty paoes farther before
we perceived, at a considerable distance, something.
like a man, with another creature, but presently lost
them among the trees before we could have a full view
of them, which made every one of us conceive a diffe-
rent idea of what we had seen, Alvarado would have
it was a giant and a man of common size with him
and both armed cap-a-pie.
+
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
The poor lad, who was already as bad as a slave,
being bound to a severe, ill-tempered master, feared
death more than bondage, so took what he had seen
for some she-bear and one of her whelps with her, to
make her yet more dreadful; and, by all means, would
have thrown himself into the lake, in order to get at
the other side of the rock: thus the danger appeared
to each of them to be what they dreaded most; but
I was somewhat better composed in mind than they.
I
gave the object I saw the likeliest resemblance the
time it was in sight would permit, which I could adapt
to nothing but a man of common size, and somewhat
like a dog with him; so, persisting in my opinion,
made them waver in theirs. Thus we went on some-
thing better composed.
Being gone about an hundred yards farther, we saw
the same again, but nearer hand and without inter-
ruption, the place being pretty clear of trees; thus,
having a full view, we were all, to our great satisfaction,
convinced that what had been taken for a formidable
giant, and a terrible she-bear, was but an ordinary
man; but that which was with him, running up a tree
as soon as he perceived us, prevented our discerning
what animal it was; but the man, who walked on
apacé, soon came within the reach of a more certain
discernment, and appeared to be a venerable old man,
with a worshipful white beard which covered his naked
breast, and a long head of hair of the same colour,
which, spreading over his shoulders, hung down to his
loins.
His presence, which inspired respect more than fear,
soon recalled the frightened folks' scared senses, who,
to recover their faint-heartedness, excused themselves
by the misrepresentation distance causes in objects.
The old man, who by that time was come near enough
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 the next to
him, embracing me, and saying
"Dear countrymen (for I hear you are Englishmen),
by what accident are you come hither? a place, the
approach whereof is defended by a thousand perils and
dangers, and not to be come at but by a narrow escape
of death. Are ye shipwrecked?"
"No, thank God," said I, “most reverend father, it
was mere curiosity that brought us hither; these
perils which you say defend the approach of this island
being absent by the extraordinary calmness of the sea.
But, if I may ask, pray how came you hither ?"
"By the help of Providence," replied the good old
man, "who snatched me 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, sir," 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 opportu-
nity of getting away from a place so remote from
human assistance, which your age makes you stand in
need of "
"That's your mistake," replied the old man; "he
who trusts in God needs no other help."
"I allow that, sir," 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 frailty of nature and debility of age;
therefore would have you come and live within the
reach of attendance. You may, without slackening
your devotion, live in the world; you shall have no
occasion to concern yourself with any cares that may
disturb your pious thoughts."
"No," replied the old man;
<< was I to be made em-
peror of the universe, I would not be concerned with
the world again; nor would you require me, did you
but know the happiness I enjoy. 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 a happy life."
"I have, good sir," said I, "already seen, with great
admiration, your matchless habitation; but there are
other necessaries your age requires, as clothes to ex-
clude the injuries of the air, and meat suitable to
the weakness of your stomach."
"That is your mistake," replied the old man; "I
wan't for no clothes; I have a change for every season
of the year; I am not confined to fashions, but suit
my own conveniences. Now this is my summer dress;
and I put on warmer as the weather grows colder:
and for meat, I have fish, flesh, and fowl, and as choice
and for meat, I have fish, flesh, and fowl, and as choice
as any man can wish for. Come, you shall dine with
me, and ten to one but I may give you venison, and
perhaps a dish of wild fowl too; let us go and see
what Providence has sent us. Só we went to a
wood about a mile farther, where he had fastened se-
veral low nets in different gaps in the thickset, in one
of which happened to be an animal something like a
fawn, twice as big as a bare, 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
So we
went a little farther, at a place where he had hung a
;
ارد
355
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
game-a couple of fowls made like woodcocks, but of
the bigness and colour of a pheasant, were taken ät
the bottom of a bag. Now," said the old man," these
I have without committing the sin of bidding less for
them than I know they are really 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, sir," said I, "for any more;
there are but four of us, and here is provision for half
a score; but if you are disposed for fish, we have some
in a boat on the other side of a rock; it is but going
for them."
66
Very well," said the old man, "it is but going
about a mile, then strip and wade over a lake, then
climb up a ragged 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 com-
plaisance often puts men to a world of needless trouble;
come, we'll make a shift to pick a dinnner out of
these."
66
Sir," said I," it is no shift where there is such a
plenty."
"
"
Plenty," said the old man; "why, I tell ye this is a
second garden of Eden; only here is no forbidden
fruit, nor women to tempt a man.
>>
"I see, sir," said I, "Providence supplies you
plentifully with necessaries, if age does not deprive
you of strength."
"l
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 wise
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 nature bend; yes, time
will break the toughest constitution, and, by what you
say, you have seen a considerable number of years."
(6
Yes," replied the old man, " a few days have run
over my head; but I never strove to out-run them, as
they do that live too fast. Well," says he, "you are
a young man, and have seen fewer days than I, yet
you may be almost worn out. Come, match this,"
says he; with that he gave a hem with such strength
and clearness that the sound made my ears tingle for
some minutes after.
"C
"Indeed, sir," said I, "you have so far out-done
what I can pretend to do, that I will not presume to
imitate you.'
33
"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 above two yards off,
"I will endeavour, sir,” 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 bring it.
"I see," said he, "you have exerted your strength too
often, which makes you now so weak. Well, you see
the advantage of living remote from the world. Had
you had less of human assistance, I am apt to believe
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 directly to the kitchen, where, whilst
he made a fire, one cast the animal, and the other two
pulled the fowls.
<3
"I am sorry," said the old man, "you must take
that trouble, but your presence has frightened away
my servant, who used to do that work for me.
"Have you a servant, then, sir ?” said I.
""
60
"Yes," said he, “and one a native of this island.
"Then I find, sir," 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, sir," said I, "I suppose that was it we saw
run up à tree ?”
65
19
Yes," said he; "my monkey, like myself, loves not
much company.”
"1
"Pray, sir," said I, "how did you bring him so well
under command, as to keep him with you when he has
liberty to run away? I wonder the wild ones do not
entice him from you.
"I had him young," replied the old ut
«and
made very much of him, which those creatures dearly
love; besides, when he was grown up, the wild ones
man,
356
would not suffer him amongst them, so he was forced
to remain with me. I had another before this; but
he, I may say, was sent by Providence both to be a
help and diversion to me; for he was so knowing that
he took a great deal of labour off my hands, and dis-
persed many anxious hours which the irksomeness of
my
solitude had created. It is now about twelve years
since; for I keep a memorial, which indeed I designed
to have been a journal; but I unfortunately let the
regular order of the days slip out of my memory; how-
ever, I observed a seventh day, and reckoned the years
from winter to winter; so I cannot well mistake.
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
66
"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 the air in.
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. My presence very much surprised him, yet
he still kept his place, only discontinued eating, staring
me in the face. The unexpected guest at once startled
me and filled me with admiration; for, certainly, 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, shining 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, being come to his full growth ;
therefore having resolved 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 back to him, to give him time to compose himself,
which he in a short time did, as appeared by his fall-
ing 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 awhile
staring me in the face; but my looking well pleased,
which I believe the animal was sensible of, made him
pick them up and fall to eating with a fresh appetite.
I was overjoyed at his easy composure; so reached
him water in a shell, that the want of nothing might
induce him to a retreat. I set it down as near him as I
could without disturbing him; he came to it very or-
derly, and, having drunk his fill, he laid it down and
looked me in the face, carelessly scratching his back-
side. Seeing he had done, I advanced and took away
the shell, at which he never stirred.
"The forward disposition of the beast towards à
perfect familiarity made me resolve to stay within the
remainder of the day, nowise questioning but my
company would in a great measure advance it. So I
made shift to sup upon a few roots I had about me,
and went pretty early to bed; where I was no sooner
laid, but the creature got across the feet, and continued
very quiet till the next morning when I got up; at
which time he was also watching my actions. I made
very much of him, which he took very composedly,
standing still to be stroked. Then indeed I thought
myself in a manner secure of him, and gave him his
belly-full, as I had done the day before; but having a
pressing occasion to go out, I went to the door, think-
ing to shut him in till my return; but he followed me
so close that I could not open it without endangering
his getting out, which, though he appeared pretty
tame, I did not care to venture, our acquaintance being
so very new; yet, as I was obliged to go, I ran the
hazard; so I opened the door by degrees, that, in case
the beast should offer to run, I might take the oppor-
tunity to slip out and keep him in; but the creature
never offering to go any farther than I went, I trusted
him to go with me, hoping that, if he went away, the
kind usage he met with would one day or other make
him come back again; but to my great surprise, as
well as satisfaction, he readily returned with me,
having waited my time: yet, as I had occasion to go
out the second time, wanting sticks to make a fire, for
which I was obliged to go near the place where most
of his kind resorted, I was afraid to trust him with me,
lest he should be decoyed by the others; therefore,
having taken up a bundle of cords with which I tie up
my faggots, I watched an opportunity to get out and
leave him behind: but the beast was certainly appre-
hensive of my design, for he always kept near the
door, looking steadfastly at my bundle of cords as
desirous of such another; which I not having for him,
cut a piece off mine, and gave it him; and, seeing 1
could not leave him behind, I ventured to let him
with me, which he did very orderly, never offering to
go one step out of the way; though others of this
kind came to look at him as he went by.
•
go
"Being come to the place where I used to cut dry
sticks, having cut down a sufficient quantity, I began
to lay some across my card. The creature, having
taken notice of it, did the same to his, and with so
much dexterity and agility that his faggot was larger
and sooner made than mine; which, by that time
being large enough and as much as he could well
•
་
:
carry, I bound it up; which set him to do the same
with his, that was abundantly too large a load for him.
"Our faggots being made, I took up that which I
had made to see how he would go about taking up
his; which being much too heavy for him, he could not
lift so, running round it I believe twenty times, he
looked me in the face, as craving help. Having been
sufficiently diverted with the out-of-the-way shifts he
made, I gave him mine and took up his the poor
animal appeared overjoyed at the exchange; therefore
cheerfully took up the bundle and followed me home.
"Seeing myself, according to all probability, sure
of the dear creature, whose late actions gave me such
ground to hope from him both service and pleasure, I
returned my hearty thanks to kind Providence for its
late prodigious gift; for certainly it was never heard
of before that in a desert place one of those wild
animals who fly at the single appearance of a human
creature should voluntarily give itself to a man, and
from the very beginning be so docile and tractable.
Oh! surely it was endued with more than natural
instinct, for perfect reason was seen in all its actions.. "One day, finding a fowl in the net-bag, he pulled it
Indeed I was happy whilst I had him; but my hap-alive as he brought it home, so that I could not see any-
piness, alas ! was not of long standing."
thing whereby to discern its kind. As soon as he came
in, he set it down with such motions as expressed joy;
the poor naked fowl was no sooner out of his clutches
than it took to its legs, for want of wings; its sudden
escape so surprised the captor that he stood amazed
for a while, which gave the poor creature time to
gain a considerable scope of ground; but the astonished
beast, being recovered from his surprise, soon made
after it, but was a considerable 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.
'Being extremely fond of me, he very seldom would
be from me, but followed me everywhere; and, as he
used to go with me when I went to czamine 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.
As he spoke, I perceived tears in his eyes.
1
"Pray,
sir," said I, "what became of that wonderful crea-
ture?"
"Alas!" said he, "he was killed by monkeys of the
other kind, which fell upon him one day as he was
going 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 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 human society."
Indeed, sir," said I, "I cannot blame you for
"I cannot blame you for
bemoaning the loss of so incomparable a creature;
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."
66
"Oh! not by far," replied the old mau: "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 late
dear Beau-fidelle, for so I called that most lovely
creature: besides, this is unlucky; in imitating me he
often does me mischief. It was but the other day
that I had been writing for five or six 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
writing on close by it: I was no sooner gone, but the
mischievous beast falls to work scribbling over every
word I had been writing; and, when he had done, he
lays it by in the chest, as he saw me do what I had
written, and takes out another, which he does the
same to, and so to half a score more; my return pre-
vented 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 six months writing. Indeed I was
angry and could have beaten him; but that I con-
sidered my revenge would not have repaired the
damage, but rather perhaps added to my loss, by
making the beast run away.'
""
"C
Pray, sir," said I, "how came you by him? Did
he also give himself to you ?”
No," replied the old man, " I had him young, and
by mere accident, unexpected and unsought for;
having lost both time and labour about getting one in
old ones are so fond of their young that they never
the room of him I had so unfortunately lost. The
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 animosity.
pains with him, you love, him as well as his prede-
cessor.
"I cannot say so 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 Beau-fidelle, in a
great measure lessens my affection. Besides, he falls
so short both of his merit and beauty, that I must givo
the deceased the preference; 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 face-
tious 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.
""
"I had a second time as good diversion, but after
another manner. One morning early, whilst I was
busy in my cottage, he went out unperceived by me;
and having been a considerable time absent, I feared
that such another accident had befallen him as that
which had 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-nets, and
being nearly as big as himself, kept him a while strug-
gling for mastership. Sometimes he would take it by
the ears, now and then by one 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 too strong,
still made towards the thickset, where he certainly
would have hailed 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.
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 a ship-sail,
was very clean, he laid three shells on it about the bigness
of a middle-sized plate, but as beautiful as any nakes of
pearl I ever saw. Gentlemen, said he, "if you car
eat off shells, ye are welcome; I have no better plates
to give you.
"
•
>>
"Sir," said I, "these are preferable to silver ones,
prince in Europe can produce so curious a service."
in my opinion, and I very much question whether any
"They may be richer," replied 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, Alvarado
and I upon the chest, which we drew near the table,
and the old gentleman, though much against his wii..
upon the chair.
"About eight years ago, which is about the time I
have had this beast, I was walking under one of the
clusters of trees where the green sort 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
dropped off a tree and lay for dead, which being of
the grey kind, made me wonder less at the accident.
I went and took him up, and accidentally handling Being set down, we fell to eating the soup, whose
his throat I opened his windpipe, which was almost fragrant smell. excited my appetite; and I profess the
squeezed close by that which took him, which my taste thereof was so excellent that I never ate any
sudden coming prevented from strangling quite. I was comparable to it at Pontac's, nor anywhere before;
extremely well pleased at this event, by which I got it was made of one-half of the beast we took in tho
what my past cares and diligence never could produce morning, with several sorts of herbs, which eat like arti-
Having pretty well recovered its breath, and
chokes, asparagus, and celery; there were also bits of
seeing no visible hurt about it, I imagined that I soon roasted roots in it, instead of toasted bread, which added
might recover it quite; so hastened home with it, much to the richness of it, tasting like chesnuts; but
gave it warm milk, and laid it on my bed: so that what surprised me most, there were green peas in it,
with careful nursing I quite recovered him, and with
whose extraordinary sweetness was discernible from
good keeping made the rogue thrive to that degree every other ingredient.
|
"Pity," said 1, "the access
that he has outgrown the rest of his kind."
to this island is so difficult; what a blessed spot or
"No question, sir," said I, "having taken such land would it make, were it but inhabited! Here na-
me.
*
t
..:
*
!
J
is
turally grows what in Europe we plough, 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 blessing
consists in its not being inhabited, being free of
those curses your populous and celebrated 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 in-
dustry and hard labour, in a manner to force from her,
wonder not at it. Consider how much you daily rob her
of her due, and charge her with slander and calumny,
Don't you frequently say, if a man is addicted to any
vice, that it is his nature, when it is the effect and
fruit of his corruption? So nature, who attended the
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 in-
nocence, nature would also have continued her ori-
ginal indulgence over him. We may now think our-
selves very happy if that blessing attends our labour
which, before the fall of man, flowed on him, accom-
panied with ease and pleasure.
"Now these peas, 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 peas
and three beans, I have in four years raised seed
enough to stock a piece of ground, out of which I
gather yearly a sufficient quantity for my use, besides
preserving fresh seed."
"No doubt, sir,” 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 oyster
sauce, which he brought in another shell much of the
same nature with that which the soup was served in,
but something shallower, which ate as delicious as
house-lamb.
Having done with that, he fetches in the other half
of the beast roasted, and several sorts of delicate
pickles, which I never ate of before, and mushrooms,
but of a curious colour, flavour, and taste. "These,'
said he, "are the natural product of a particular spot
of ground, where, at a certain time of the year," he
said, he gathered, for the space of six days only, three
sizes 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, sir," said I, "though far exceeding
any I ever ate in Europe, are really at this time need-
less; the meat wanting nothing to raise its relish, no
flesh being more delicious."
Having done with that, I offered to take it away,
but he in nowise would permit me, so went away with
it himself and brought the fowls, at which I was some-
what vexed; for I feared I should find no room in my
stomach for any, having eaten so heartily of the meat;
but having, at his pressing request, tasted them, my
appetite renewed at their inexpressible deliciousness,
so I fell to eating afresh.
1
►
་
""
·
J
Having done with that dish, the young man, having
nothing to do in the kitchen, came, and was bid to
take away, and fall to. In the meantime the good old
man fetched us out of his dairy a small cheese of his
own making, which being set down, he related to `us
the unaccountable manner he came by the antelopes
which supplied him with the milk it was made with,
which introduced several weighty remarks on the
wonderful acts of Providence, and the strictness of the
obligations we lie under to our great benefactor; like-
wise 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 tempers and dispositions of
men, much commending timely education, as being a
means to reverse and change evil inclinations, highly
praising the charity of those pious people who choose
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 after the state of his dear native country, which,
he said, he left fifty years ago in a very indulgent dis-
position. I gave him the best account I could, at that
time, of all the transactions that had happened in
England since his absence.
1
1
"The relation of past evils," said he, "is like pic-
tures of earthquakes and shipwreck, which affect the
mind but slightly; and though I think myself out of
my prince's power, yet I shall always partake with my
countryman's grief. Pray be explicit. What king
have we now?"
"A complete patriot, and father to his subjects,"
said I;" both tender-hearted and merciful, encourag
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
ing virtue and suppressing vice; a promoter of religion,
and an example of charity,"
66
Then," said he, in a manner which expressed zeal
and joy, "long may that pious monarch live, and his
posterity for ever grace the British throne! And may
old England, by its faithful obedience and loyalty,
old England, by its faithful obedience and loyalty,
henceforth atone for its past rebellions, that it may
remove that execrable reproach 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 succeeded with
that of the royal family, and prosperity to the church.
Thus ended a most delicious and splendid dinner, and a
conversation both delightful and instructive. But
having not as then mentioned anything about his own
history, which I exceedingly longed to inquire into, I
begged him to inform us by what accident he came
hither, 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 parted, give it me in writing;
having, for want of other occupation, made a me-
morial. But as to the maintaining 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,
you must use none but wholesome exercises, observe a
sober diet, and live a pious life. Now, if you can con-
fine yourself to this way of living, I'll be bound that
you will both preserve your health and waste less
money. But, what's 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 strictly 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
withdrawn, and all commerce prohibited, which is
morally 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
favours often wear out friendship.
"Waste not your vigour or substance on women,
lest weakness and want be your reward.
"Secrets are not safe in a woman's breast; 'tis a
confinement the sex can't bear.
"Pass no contract 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's 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
rule:
• 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 ruled by me, not to increase your store
By means unjust, for 'twill but make you poor;
Take but your due, and never covet more.'
· ""
G
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
readily consented, wishing I might observe them; and
being very sure that I should reap a considerable
benefit thereby, both here and hereafter.
The day being pretty far spent, I was obliged to
think of going, which grieved me much; for I was so
taken with his company, that if I had not had a father
and mother, whose years required my presence, I
would have spent the rest of my days with him. I
was so delighted with his company, and pleased with
his way of living, that I almost overlooked my duty;
obliged to yield to nature. Thus,
but, after a struggle with my inclination, I was
Thus, having expressed
my vexation to leave so good a man, I took my leave.
The good old man, perceiving my regret to leave him,
could not conceal his to part with me.
Indeed," said he, with tears in his eyes, "I should
have been very glad to have had a fellow-creature in
this solitary island, especially one whom I think pos-
sessed of a good inclination, which I perceive you have,
by your reluctance at leaving this innocent garden of
life. I imagine that you have relations in the world
that may stand in need of you; Heaven protect you,
and send you safe to them. I don't imagine that you
will ever see this island again; nor would I advise you
to venture, the approach to it is so dangerous. There-
fore, before you go, let me show you some of the rari-
ties with which it abounds." I told him I was afraid
time would not permit; but as he said that an hour or
two would do, and we had day-light enough, I went
along with him.
Going out, and seeing the guns stand behind the
door, I asked what he did with them.
4.
357
"I keep them," said he, “for a trophy of Provi-
dence's victory over my enemies, and a monument of
my fourth miraculous deliverance."
As we went along he related to us the manner in
which he had been sacrilegiously robbed once by In.
dians; villainously infested twice by pirates; the ruf-
fians having combined to carry him away like a slave
to their own country, 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
single plant. Being come to one larger than the rest,
and which he said he frequented most, it being the
largest in the island, "This," said he, "covers with its
own branches a whole acre of land ;" so made several
remarks on the wonderful works of nature; "which,"
said he, "were all intended for the use and pleasure of
man; everything in the universe containing such differ-
ent virtues and properties as were requisite to render
life happy." From that he made several more reflec-
tions on the fatal effects of disobedience, which is
accounted a slight breach in duty, but is the mother of
all sins.
•
That discourse held for a considerable time, till a
parcel of each different kind of monkeys having met,
fell to fighting, observing an admirable order during the
fray; which withdrew our admiration from the pre-
ceding subject, and stopped us awhile to observe them.
The scuffle was very diverting whilst it lasted, which
was but a short time, for they happened to perceive
us; at which they parted, each sort running to their
own quarters, which were not very distant from one
another, so that from it they could see each other's
motions.
"I am sorry," said I, “the battle was so soon over ;
they cuffed one another so prettily, that I could have
stood an hour to see them."
..
If you like the sport," said the old man, "I can
soon set them at it again." With that he took out of
his breeches-pocket some roasted roots, which he com-
monly carried about him, to throw at them when he
went that way, which made them less shy of him.
Having broke the roots in bits, he laid them down
in their sight; for they on both sides were peeping
from under the leaves of the trees where they har-
boured. Then he cut a score of sticks about the big-
ness of one's finger, and near a foot and a half long,
and laid them over the bits of roots; then we retired to
some small distance, and hid ourselves behind the
trees.
We were no sooner out of sight, but they hastened
to the meat. The green monkeys, having less ground
to go, were at them first, yet never stopped, but went
on to hinder the others' approach, who vigorously
strove to gain ground. The struggle was hard, and
the victory often wavering; each party alternately gave
way. At last the grey sort kept the advantage, and
drove their adversaries back, who being come where
the sticks lay, immediately took them up, and charged
their enemies with fresh courage, like 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, and so drove them back again almost to
their own quarters.
In the meantime stragglers of both the 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-
ceiving left off fighting, and of one accord turned upon
the plunderers, who by that time having devoured
the booty, left them the field without contending any
farther.
The battle being over, the old gentleman would
have us to go on, "Lest," said he, "they should fall
to it again out of revenge, for those creatures are very
spiteful."
Having dispersed them by our advancing as in-
tended, 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 a distance, as it were, a considerable number of
buildings, and here and there something like steeples,
which represented a handsome city; and seemingly
the houses appeared so plain that, had I not been
apprized of the illusion, I should have taken it for
be persuaded but what we saw were really buildings,
such; but Alvarado and the young fellow could not
and even in the island, though the old gentleman
made us stop a while the better to observe every-
thing, then bid us keep our eyes fixed on what we
looked at and go on. We perceived every particular
of what we observed to change its form; that which
at first seemed to be fronting showed itself either side-
ways or backwards, and so of every object till, being
come at a certain distance, all the agreeableness of
the perspective of a sudden turned into its real shape
like a phantom which, whilst visible, screens that which
it stands before, but, by its vanishing, leaves it dis-
covered. }
.
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIS I'S LIBRARY
cavities in it, in rows one above another, as round
niches where figures stand. "Now," said the old
man, "we are here, I will entertain you with an invi-
sible chorus of harmonious voices, little inferior to
hautboys, trumpets, or other melodious music. Here I
twice come and pay my devotions each day." Alvarado
who, by what he had already seen, was prepossessed
that the island was full of enchantments, was now
certain of it, and looked upon that place in the rock
to be the receptacle of fiends and evil spirits, so would
by no means stay, but takes his leave, saying, he was
not very curious of supernatural things.
The old gentleman thereupon made several learned
observations on the alterations that distance works
upon objects, and showed how easily our organs of
sight may be deceived; drawing thence this inference,
that we ought not to be too positive of the reality of
what we
see afar off, nor to affirm for truth that
which we only hear of.
Having ended that discourse, he carried us to the "Supernatural," said the old man, "you can't well
other side of the jetting part of the rock, which, ad- call it, though to you it may seem very amazing; it
vancing like a bastion of a fortified wall, screened from is, therefore, well deserving your sight, I mean your
our eyes a second piece of wonder; a fine rainbow is-hearing, the eyes have no share in the entertainment;
suing as it were out of the mouth of a giant lying on we shall only sing a few psalms; I am sure there can
a rock, reaching quite over the lake: at the bottom of be no harm in that, but rather good, being a holy
it I could not but stop to admire the various colours it exercise in divine worship, in which all good souls
consisted of, which far exceeded in beauty and liveli- ought to join."
ness any I ever saw in the sky. I presently imagined
that it proceeded from the rays of the sun falling upon
some pond or other standing water, whose reflections
rose and met the tops, which caused that beautiful
circle. But Alvarado, who, by what he had seen
before, concluded that the island was enchanted, said
was another illusion, which the place was full of;
and would have gone away, but that the old man fell
a-laughing and said, ""Tis a sign you seldom inquire
into natural causes. Well, do but come a little nearer
to it, and you will find that which you term an illu-
sion is the natural effect of all fountains when the sun
shines."
"That may be," said Alvarado; "but I love to see
those with whom I worship; I don't think myself as
yet company for spirits. As for your part," continued
Alvarado, speaking to me, "you may do what you
please, but take care your curiosity don't cost you
dear. Tim and I will wait for you in the boat; but
pray be not too long before you come." So, having
returned the old gentleman thanks for his kind enter-
tainment, they went away, at which the good man was
much affronted.
358
、
|
Being come as near the rock as the lake that parts
it would perimit, we could discern nothing in it that
could in the least soften its ruggedness, or give it a
more agreeable aspect than those which are repre-
sented in the pictures of shipwrecks.
Being come to the place it proceeded from, it
proved, as he said, only a fountain, but of the clearest
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 sort of creature;
which, though having no particular resemblance, yet
would bear being compared to several different things.
The old man's opinion was, that it resembled a whale
spurting water out of one nostril, Alvarado supposed
it was more like a horse or a cow, and rather the last,
there being horns plainly 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 Anchors (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 mother's court in Rose-
mary lane, which every spring runs out of itself;"
which comparison made us all to laugh.
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 wherewith it sprung from the rock,
that stood full five yards from the place it fell on,
which was another subject of admiration; for certainly
the arts of men could not have invented nor com-
pleted a more compact or pleasanter bason, though it
had been for a fountain to adorn a monarch's garden;
indeed, there were no mason's nor any expert artist's
work to be seen, but a great deal of nature's match-
less understanding; there regularity, dimensions, and
proportions concerted to make it useful, 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
inside and outside, which made a most pleasant and
uniform bank, adorned with various small flowers and
herbs of divers beautiful colours and most fragrant
smells.
Having viewed with pleasure and amazement such
regularity in a wild and uninhabited place, I walked
about it as long as the time I could stay would per-
mit; I proposed going, but the old gentleman, taking
me by the hand, stopped me. "You have," said he,
bestowed a considerable time in observing the ferti-
lity of this island, now pray allow one minute for con-
sideration; the object you have been admiring all this
time is as wonderful and surprising, as beautiful and
pleasant. You see this fountain, which runs stiff and
as large as your thumb, and therefore, by computa-
tion, may be allowed to give near a hundred gallons of
water in an hour: now it runs night and day; it nei-
ther decreases nor runs over its bank, but keeps to
the same height."
46
This, as you say, sir,” said I, “is really worth in-
quiring into ;" so I went several times round it, scarch-
ing for the place whereby the overplus of the comple-
ment did issue, but could not discover it."-" Come,"
said he, "scek no more for that which nature has so
well concealed; I have spent many hours in that in-
quiry, and still remain ignorant, but have found the
place out of which it runs into, a fine fish-pond, about |
a mile inland; we will make it our way to the lake;
we may look at it as we go on, but can make no long
stay. So we went on.
Going along we came by a hollow part of the rock,
which went in like an alcove, with a great many con-
"
"What," said he, " do your friends imagine I deal
with spirits? Besides, where did they ever hear that
devils loved to sing psalms? for here shall nothing
else be sung. I would not for the world that those
admirable echoes, that hitherto have repeated nothing
but the Almighty's praises, should be polluted with
the sound of any profane words." I excused their
timorousness, saying, it was not a failing peculiar to
themselves only, but to many besides. The old man
allowed it, attributing the cause thereof to a very per-
nicious custom nurses have to frighten children when
they cry, with buggabos and such things to make
them quiet, which frightful ideas often make such
deep impression on their puerile minds, that when they
come to mature age it is hardly worn out, which intimi-
dates
dates many.
"C
That discourse being ended, we advanced as near
that part of the rock as the lake would permit, which
in that place was not above seven or eight feet broad,
so that we were within the concavity of the rock.
Now," said the old man, "let us sit down on this
bank and sing the hundred and seventeenth psalm."
Indeed, sir," said I, "I don't know it by heart,
"I don't know it by heart,
and I have no psalm book about me."
"Well, then," said he, I'll sing myself;" so he
so he
begins, but with such a clear and loud voice, managed
with so much skill and judgment, that it exceeded
all the singing I ever heard before; and was repeated
by such a number of melodious echoes that one
would have believed there were a hundred voices in
chorus.
The melody so transported me, that I willingly
would have spent not only the remainder of the day,
but the succeeding also, the extacy having quite put
out of my mind the necessity of my going and the
danger of delaying; but the good man having sung an
evening hymn after the psalm, which he said he sung
every night, he takes me by the hand.
"Now,"
said he,
said he, "is not this emulation? Who would not
sing with such a chorus of cho:isters as you might ima-
gine was there?"
|
"Indeed, sir," said I, "this has so great a resem-
blance to the relation we have given us in holy history
of the superior joys the blessed possess in heaven, that
I thought myself already there; for which reason I
would willingly end my days here.”
"This is impossible," said the old gentleman;
" nor
can you spend here many more moments.
can you spend here many more moments. I have the
fish-pond to show you yet; come, let's go." So we
went on about fifty paces thence more inland; we
saw at a small distance, between the trees, a parcel of
fowls like ducks, but considerably larger, which flew
away from the pond at our approach towards them.
He told me how he came by the old one that bred
them, of which he was robbed.
At length being come to the pond, I was surprised
at the clearness of the water, at the bottom of which
seemed to be large rubies, emeralds, jacinths, and
other coloured stones; till, being come to the brink
of it, those which I took for precious stones proved
to be fishes by their swimming about, which, to my
thinking, looked like stars shooting from place to place
in the sky. Having spent several minutes in admír-
ing the surprising nature and beauty of the fishes,
I took notice of the pond, which was about forty yards
in length, and near thirty in breadth: its form was a
broken oval, sinking in and out here and there, which
made it the more agreeable; all around it grew divers
sorts of herbs intermixed with flowers of different
colours, and here and there a basket on sticks, which
the old man told me he had made and set there for his
ducks to breed in. The day being far spent, the old
man, after having showed me the places at one side of
the pond wherein the basin emptied itself, as also the '
other side whereby the pond ran into the lake, takes
me by the hand; "Come," said he, “I'll keep you
no longer; night comes on apace, and the retreat from
this island is dangerous, therefore I would have you
improve the short remains of the day, to avoid the
dangers the darkness of the night may lead you into;
so let us go home, that I may give you the memorial
I have promised you, and then my blessing and hearty
prayers for your safe departure and happy arrival."
So he went to his habitation, where he gave me a roll
of parchment. "Here it is," said he, "written in a
rough and unpolite language, for I did not compose it
out of ostentation, nor to exert my parts, but to keep
me in mind of the many mercies I have received from
heaven ever since my youth, and to record the won-
derful effects of 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 afflicted; that he
who rightly applies himself, and firmly trusts in the
Almighty, shall at his extremity find relief: and now
my intent is in some measure answered, expecting you
will revise and publish it when you come to Old Eng-.
land. I must enjoin you not to give it as my own dic-
tation, but a history taken from heads out of my
memorial; for I have been obliged to insert particu-
lars, and use such expressions without which the
account I give of myself would have been imperfect;
and which, being related as by me, may chance to be
accounted self-flattery, which is a censure I would
willingly avoid." I told him he might depend upon it
I should always and on all accounts be very tender of
any thing that could in the least lessen 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-
ness words and actions could express; saying, with
tears in his eyes, that my exit was a renewing of his
past grief, and would for a considerable time damp the
pleasures he before my coming did enjoy in his solitude;
since now he again had 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 stopped the utter-
ance of his words, he, sighing, laid his head upon my
neck, squeezing me close in his arms.
This most tender and moving action moved me to a
reciprocal grief. Never did any man reflect with more
reluctance than when I parted with that good old man,
who, having recovered in some measure his former
firmness of mind, his soul being again resigned, we re-
peated 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 side 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 nowise permit
him. Thus having prevailed upon him to stay be-
hind, I prepared to wade over; so after a few more
embraces I crossed the lake, and came to my impatient
companions, who received me with heavy reprimands
for trusting myself so long alone with that necromancer.
"For nothing," said they, "shall ever persuade us a
man can have such plenty of dainties with only the
help of nature. No, no, he may talk of Providence 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 observed that
few, or no ships, come near those rocks, and escape
being staved. For my part, I assure you, I don't
think myself safe whilst within the reach of his en-
chantments.”
chantments." 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
weather 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 keep the boat from the rocks, 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, In-
dians, 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 twenty-sixth at Panama on
terra firma, after meeting with some stormy weather.
Here we began to traffic, in our way home, for some
corn necessary for our following voyage; as also cotton,,
some metals, rosin, gums, and pepper.
Our stay was
not long here; for we sailed thence on the fifth of June,
the wind then being very favourable. But we had
not sailed above twenty leagues when we met with a
violent storm which lasted some hours, and the wind
blowing hard at north-north-east; wherein 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, put our loss of
Mr Davis was very great, and worse than if any other
man on board had been missing; for we might also
call him our chaplain, as well as surgeon; and by his
exemplary, pious life, during 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, Oxon, in his early days, and designed for the
sacred robe. But his genius very much inclining to
those most pleasant studies, viz., physic and surgery,
he afterwards made them his practice. But meeting
with some misfortunes about the thirty-fifth year of
his life, he left England in the year 1711, and em-
barked on board the John and Mary for New England,
where he lived till the year 1723, when our ship arrived
at that country, at that time wanting a surgeon, for
our own died at our approach near the continent. Our
captain, on inquiry, having an excellent character of
Mr Davis, agreed with him for our voyage till we re-
turned back thither again. I think it but just to
eternize his memory in these memoirs, and give him
the character which he merited.
He was a pious good man, sober, just, and virtuous;
ready to serve, but never to offend, any man.
His
morals were instructive to all those who knew him,
and his constant exhortation, while on board our ship,
to frequent daily prayers, was the reason we esteemed
him the doctor of our souls, as well as a surgeon to our
bodies. Nay, which is still more, while he was with
us, though he never entered into sacred orders, yet he
told us he thought it his duty to give us the best in-
structions he was capable of for the preservation of
our souls and bodies, both which were always in
danger; and, accordingly, after divine service, as I
may call it, was performed by him in a very solemn
manner, he would frequently discourse on the nature
and heinousness of the sin of man, which occasioned
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 in very
lively colours, telling the advantage, pleasure, and
beauty that attended a godly life. Sometimes his dis-
courses would be on natural philosophy, which were
extremely well delivered; at other times on some of
the sciences, most of which he well understood, and to
which we gave very great attention, as being desirous
of such useful knowledge. In short, his death 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 uni-
versal knowledge in things, entirely free from reserved-
ness, but of perfect humility and condescension; most
agreeably entertaining in his conversation, and dear to
all that ever knew him.
Thus, having given an imperfect character of that
great man, to whose memory I owe so much, I shall
proceed to a further description of our voyage.
As to
the coast on those seas, I think it needless to make
any mention thereof, they having been so well de-
scribed already by our modern geographers, nor is it in
anywise useful to my purpose; so that I shall en-
tirely omit it, and only give an account of those places
where we traded or touched at for fresh provisions or
necessaries, and remark what happened most worthy
our notice in our voyage home to England.
The weather now proving more favourable, I began
to peruse the memorials of my good old hermit. But
oh, with what moving sympathy did I share with him
in the multitude of his misfortunes during his minor
years. Nor could I less sympathise with him on the
extasies of his hermetical life. I read with pleasure
and amazement what he had laboriously transcribed,
being at that time doubtful whether it would ever be
perused by any mortal; where he set forth a continued
series of misfortunes, as if linked together by divine
Providence (while he lived in the wise world as he
called it); and in this account, during his abode on
that desolate island, denotes that the omnipotent Being
had always an immediate direction in every circum-
stance or point of time. I was more and more as-
tonished and amazed by this good man's precepts, who
has abandoned the world, content to live in a desolate
and lonesome island, uninhabited by any mortal but
himself; where he has had the space of fifty years to
reflect and contemplate on the follies and misfortunes
of man, during which time his maxims were always
his rule of life in every case. O may I once more
see that dear old man, whose habitation is free from
all anxious cares, from oppression and usury, and all
the evils that attend this populous world! There
would I abide, and never depart from that happy soli-
tude which he so peaceably enjoys. But whither am
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
I running? These contemplations have made me
forget the remarks of my voyage.
We sailed from Panama on the sixth day of June,
and had frequent thunder and lightning, attended with
some rain; but nothing else extraordinary happened.
On the fifteenth we made Gorgona Bay, in Peru, where
our boat went on shore to a village on the main, with
twenty hands well armed, resolved to get some fresh
provisions at any rate; for we began to be in want,
having taken in but very little at Panama. It is a low
land, full of mangrove trees, and, within land, pretty
high. The village was but poor; however, they brought
away six hogs and four goats, some limes and plan-
tains. Not far thence are some gold mines, but of
no great note, as we were informed by some Indians.
They are a very warlike people who live on that coast,
and often engage one another with clubs and darts
made of hard wood. The island is about six leagues
in length. There are monkeys, lizards, hares, and
Guinea pigs; also several sorts of snakes, some of
which are as big as one's leg, so that it is dangerous
to walk in some parts of the island. One of our men
happened to be bit by one, and did not live above six
hours after; though hie death had been prevented, I
believe, had we not met with that misfortune of losing
Mr Davis, our surgeon. Here, also, we caught some
mullets, and several sorts of fish, extremely good,
though unknown 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 re-
ported 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 before 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.
359
it, till he had driven two stakes in the ground, where
he roasted it with a wooden spit. As to fresh water,
as I observed before, there were very good brooks in
the valleys. At length he invented a way, by thickets,
to ensnare a goat sometimes, which furnished him with
flesh. Here were cabbage-trees, which furnished him
with sauce to his meat, it being very agreeable when
seasoned with the fruit of the pimento-tree, which is
much like Jamaica pepper; but afterwards he could
run a goat down. Sometimes he had the good luck
to find some eggs, for there were very good fowls. He
caught some young teal also, and, by cutting their
wings, and keeping them always cut, he preserved
them in a brook, just by his hut, which he had en.
closed. There they bred, and were tame.
But being
one day gone a pretty distance from his hut, a great
number of monkeys finding them out, and that they
could not fly away, destroyed them all. His clothes
were almost worn out, nay, his shoes were quite gone,
and had been for some time; but to preserve his fect
he cut the goat skins in the shape of stockings, and
sewed them, or laced them up with thongs of the
same; and also laced the foot part, making holes with
his knife for the thongs, three or four times doubled
together, to serve for soles.
together, to serve for soles. The Spaniard told me
that he was so well inured to that way of life, when
he was taken from the island, that it was a consider-
able time before he could relish either drink, or any
kind of victuals which was dressed on board the ship.
I
gave the Spaniard an account of the hermit, to which
he
gave very great attention.
So, having refreshed ourselves, we sailed thence,
after a stay of three days only in the bay, having got
a pretty many goats from the island, and some maize,
or Indian corn. Thence we steered for the Galliapago
islands, but in our passage met with several storms
and tornadoes, attended with very great rains. Some
of our men began to be very sickly, which we thought
proceeded from their eating the livers of some young seals
they had caught, they being unhealthy. After about
three days' sail, we met with frequent calms. During
this voyage one of our negro women, of whom we had
three on board, being with child, and near her time,
was delivered of a fine boy, which was of a swarthy
colour. She had been on board us ever since we came
from the Brazils, and proved very useful in washing
our linen, &c. ; but Juno, for that was her name,
proved with child by one of our men, whose name was
Thomas Higgins. I, with the help of the other two
negro women who were on board, performed the office
of a midwife, and delivered her. 1 had purchased a
little wine at Panama, which proved very useful to
mull for Juno, to comfort her in that condition; also
the other negro women, Tom Higgins and I, drank
one bottle after her delivery; and we were really
merry on that occasion, The captain was somewhat
displeased at this accident; but being unwilling (in
so long a voyage, attended with so many difficulties
as we had met with) to inflict too heavy punishments
on his men, he only obliged Tom to agree that he
should allow Juno two pistoles when she went ashore
at Brazil, to take care of the child. Tom readily agreed
thereto, but had some remorse of conscience, and
began to reflect; and was really very much concerned
to think that the child got by him (though on a negro,
yet she was a woman, and the child in likeness of him-
self, and firmly believing that it was really begot by
him, and by no other person) should be bred up in
Paganism. Accordingly, he grew very dull and melan-
choly at the thoughts thereof, which he communicated
to me, asking my advice about it. So I persuaded him
to be merry, and not cast himself down, for that many
such accidents had happened in the West Indies before
then, among the Englishmen, who never thought much
of it afterwards. However, this had no effect at all
on him. He told me that, whatever crimes other
people had been guilty of, he could not reconcile him-
self thereunto. Finding him so very uneasy, I ac-
quainted the captain of it. "Ah!" says he, “is Tom
under so great a concern about the child's being not to
be educated in the Christian religion?
">
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 Lan-
cashire man, who was boatswain on board a merchant's
ship, whose name I have since 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 frequently gather for the
Spaniards. He made his escape from them, and hid
himself in the woods, fearing that they would carry
him to the Spaniards, and by that means he might
be made a slave; choosing rather solitude than to
enter into bondage for life. However, an English ship,
trading on that coast, had notice of it from the Indians,
and imagining that he might be an Englishman cast
away, or set on shore there (as he really was) by some
pirate who had been in those seas, they sent their boat
with six hands to the island in search of him. They
took their speaking trumpet with them, and by that
means, after about six hours' stay on the island, they
found him out. He told them that, at his first being
set on shore on the island, it seemed very melancholy
and frightful; when he began to reflect on the bar-
barity of the pirates, to leave him there without pro-
visions, 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 hin
any fire-arms and ammunition, his case would not have
been near so desperate, because he then might not
have only defended himself against any enemy, but
likewise have killed some goats or fowls for his sub-
sistence. He also said that what made him very
melancholy was to think his habitation and place of
abode was where he could have no human society, and
in an island that he, at first, knew not whether there
was anything on it for his subsistence, never having
been 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 great loss for fire to dress it; till, having
nothing to employ himself with but thinking, he re-
membered that he had heard that the rubbing of two
piece of wood hard together produced fire he tried
the experiment, and by rubbing two pieces of pimento
wood together, did produce fire, after the manner the
Indians make use of. He then made a fire as having
wood enough, and broiled part of his goat, which was
a delicious meal to him. He afterwards began to build
himself a hut to dwell in, where he lived, and dressed
his fish and goats' flesh; but could at first only broil
;
Yes, sir," said I; "and I am apprehensive that it
will grow upon him very much to his prejudice, he is
so concerned about it; for less than that I have known
people grow melancholy (as he seems to be), and they
have entered into a state of lunacy, and never could
be brought to their former reason, but have laid vio-
lent hands on themselves. As he is a very honest,
good-natured fellow (setting aside this slip)," said I,
"I wish some expedient could be found out to make
him easy."
66
"Well, then, Mr Dorrington," says the captain, "we
have the Common Prayer Book on board; and 'tis a
pity we lost poor John Davis, our surgeon and chap-
lain; he could have christened the child, and that
would have satisfied Tom,”
"
O, sir," said I, "with your leave, as we have no
chaplain belonging to the ship, now Mr Davis is dead,
yet, as we are tolerated to bury our dead, pray why
may we not christen the living also? It can be no
crime to do a good action." The captain approved of
what I said; so I told him, with his leave, I would be
360
chaplain in that case, as well as I had been man-mid-
wife before. "But, sir," said I, "there is an obstacle
that will hinder us still." He asked me what that
was? "
Why, sir," said I, "we have neither godfathers
nor godmothers; and you know that it is not accounted
lawful to perform that ceremony, which is one of the
sacraments, unless it be done with order and decency,
as the church directs. To which the captain re-
plied-
"
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
very dangerous, for three of our men died in our
voyage to the Galliapagoes.
11
?
water.
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, for they
had never seen the like before.
had never seen the like before. When we came upon
deck we supposed it to be a great quantity of the
spawn of fish swimming on the water, it being very We weighed anchor on the twentieth, and sailed hence
fair. Having passed the line, we made the Galliapa- round Cape Horn, in 51° and 15' south latitude, as our
goes on the fifth of July, where we anchored about a pilot informed me, I being only a merchant on board,
mile off the shore, in a good, smooth, sandy ground. and therefore do not pretend to make a methodical
We sent our boat ashore for water, but could find journal, only as I promised to give an account of the
none. Some of our men began to be sick, but none most material passages in our voyage home. Round
of them died before we arrived at Puna Isle, in Peru; the Cape the weather favoured us extremely, and no-
whence we sailed a little way up the river Guaquil, thing happened that was material, only that we were
where we saw a great many alligators, and sold some chased by a pirate-ship for about twelve hours on the
of our goods; but the Spaniards being jealous that twenty-ninth; but the night coming on, it favoured us
we came as spies, and belonged to some other ships so that we lost her. On the fourth of September we
on that coast, which were Buccaniers, we thought it made Falkland's Island. Here we saw a great number
best to leave that place, having taken in some fresh of porpoises, which often leaped out of the water, of
water and a few provisions, to serve us to the isle of an uncommon sort. On the fifth we had the misfor-
Labos. We stood out to sea, and made the island of tune to have one of our men fall into the sea as he was
St Clara, where we anchored on the tenth for that throwing the lead, and he was drowned before we could
night (our ship proving crank and sailing very heavy); give him any help. We had very brisk gales at south-
the next morning, when we were preparing to sail, we west. We sailed, and made Cape St Antonio, near the
found that our ship had sprung a leak, so that we mouth of the river De la Plata, in Paragua, on the
were obliged to have one hand at the pump conti- twenty-fifth, the wind south by west; when we stood
nually. Before we had sailed six leagues, the wind out to sea and made the isle of Grande and the coast
freshened upon us, and the sky looked extraordinary
of Brazil on the twenty-ninth. We got a pilot who
black at north-east, and it moved towards us, which conducted us into the watering-cove, at inner western-
made us take in our top-sails; and afterwards we most point of the island. In sounding as we went in,
reeved our main-sail and mizen; at which time it we hardly met in any place with less than ten fathoms
began to rain, and poured down as if through a sieve.
The island is about nine leagues long, high
The sea seemed as if it had been all on fire, by the land near the water side; it abounds with wood; has
prodigious thunder and lightning. It then being monkeys and other wild beasts; plenty of good timber
night, the elements over our head looked most dis- and fresh water, oranges and lemons. We had plea-
mally black, but all round the horizon was as red as sant weather, but extremely hot. We here received a
blood; the waves, which seemed to dash against the letter from our owners commanding us home, and not
clouds, by the violence of the wind, sparkled like to sail for New England, as designed. Here we got
lightning, which, together with the thunder, made a beef, mutton, hogs, fowl, sugar, rum, oranges, and le-
terrible noise; at last, breaking in upon our deck, it mons; so that now we did not want good punch.
carried away one of our anchors; and we durst not During our voyage from the Galliapagoes I applied my-
bring our ship to the wind for fear of her foundering, self to the perusal of my good old man's memoirs,
it being dangerous, in a storm, to turn a ship back- which I took very great delight in; and finding the
ward and forward; so we were obliged to lie in the whole series of his minor years attended with such a
trough of the sea. But the wind and rain abating, we
number of unaccountable accidents, hardly to be par-
observed, to our great joy, a Corpus Sanct at the top alleled, I thought proper, as I designed them to be pub-
of our spindle. These Corpus Sancts are good signs lished at my arrival in England, to digest them in a
when seen aloft, but bad omens, and denote a great more regular manner than I found them wrote in his
storm, when seen on the decks. It is a small glim-
a small glim-manuscript; but neither added nor diminished, nor
mering light, like a star, when aloft; but when on deck did I in the least vary from what he himself had wrote,
it appears like a glow-worm. It is the opinion of as to the accidents of life; only I made some amend-
mariners that it is a sort of jelly, incorporated by the ments which I thought necessary, for his absence from
wind, rain, sea vapours, and air; because it is never England so long as fifty years had occasioned him in
observed unless in stormy weather.
some manner not to be well acquainted with the lan-
guage as it is now spoken: and, by his living without
any conversation so long a time, had made him in some
measure forget his own mother tongue. Though I
really think, taking that into consideration, that his ac-
count was very polite; yet, had his life been published
as in his memoirs, it would have appeared very obso-
lete, and difficult to be read, though ever so entertain-
ing. I accordingly collected all the passages of his
first twenty-eight years together, and thought proper
to make a book or part by themselves, that part of his
life being different from his hermetical confinement on
the island, which at first sight appeared so full of hor-
ror, and nothing but a prospect of the most miserable
condition that could befal him. He no sooner looked
round him, depending upon Providence as a supporter
of the distressed, but he found almost everything ne-
cessary for human life on that small island; and he,
who then thought of nothing but immediately perish-
ing in the most miserable condition, has lived, by the
help of divine Providence, in a safe and plentiful man-
ner; and is now so inured thereunto that he despises
the populous world and its vanities; he also considers
its pompous glory to be of no more substance than a
shadow, and that there is no felicity on earth unless
solitude.
•
"Is there not Mr Clark, our lieutenant? I and
he will stand godfathers; and he shall, as he is Clark
by name, perform the office of clerk in the cere-
mony.
"
+6
But, sir," said I, "what must we do for a god-
mother? You know there ought to be one, and we
have no woman on board that is a Christian.
>>
"Well, then," said the captain, "the women we
have on board, by a little persuasion, may be willing
to be christened themselves; and, if they consent,
they are of age, and therefore capable of answering
for themselves, by which means they may become
godmothers, on occasion, to the child." So, accord-
ingly, the captain called for a bottle of wine, and
sent for Diana, one of the negro women, aged about
twenty-three years. When she came into the cabin,
the captain filled a glass of wine, and gave it her;
after she had drank it, the captain said-
"So, Diana, 'tis to be hoped that you won't be
troubled with the wantons and play the trick your
sister Juno did. Pray, how does the child do?" To
which she answered-
"It be ver well, but it cry, cry, ver mush, great
deal."
"Well," says the captain; "but, Diana, I sent for
but, Diana, I sent for
you on another occasion; do you not remember Mr
Davis, our surgeon and chaplain ?”
“Yes,” says she, "me ver well know him; he give
me ver gret 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 man.”
"Why, then," says the captain, "Diana, what do
you think of being made a Christian, and christened
as we Christians are?"
66
"Me mak Christian," says she, “hou?"
Why," says the captain, " you know Mr Davis
taught you to read, and you learned to say your
prayers; they are very good prayers, are they not,
to pray to God?"
"Yes," says she; "they be ver goot prayer; me
love dem ver great mush."
"
1
Well, then," says the captain, “are you willing to
be good, and do as those prayers learn you to do?"
"}
Yes," said she; "me be always ver goot, me be
ver glad, me lern me prayer, me lern 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 to the questions by the instruction of the
captain; and we christened her by the name of Eli-
zabeth, 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 meantime we drank'
the bottle of wine. As soon as the child was dressed,
Elizabeth carried it to the captain, who sent for Tho-
mas Higgins, and told him that Diana was christened,
and that he himself and the lieutenant were to stand
godfathers to his son, and Elizabeth godmother; and
that it was to be christened, and desired to know what
name should be given to the child; to which he an-
swered his own, viz. Thomas. I never saw such an
alteration in any man in my life, as I immediately ob-
served in him; so suddenly it appeared that it sur-
prised us all; for he, who before was dejected, even
to the greatest degree imaginable, now appeared fully
satisfied in his mind; and, conscience no longer seem-
ing to fly in his face, he became full of mirth and
ollity. So, by the captain's order, I christened the
child in a very decent manner; the captain and lieu-
tenant stood godfathers and Elizabeth stood godmo-
ther. When the ceremony was over the captain said,
"Tom, as this child was begot and born on board my
ship, and I am its godfather, and as it is now a Chris-
tian, I think it properly belongs to me (though I am
not the father of it) to see it brought up in a Chris-
tian manner, which, if it please God to bless me with
life, I will see performed; 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 I, with
Tom and Elizabeth, whom he permitted on that occa-
sion, supped at his table, and were very merry, which
so rejoiced Elizabeth, that she, immediately after sup-
per, related what had happened to her fellow negro
woman, who was called Antiope; and they both went
to Juno, and told her that her son was baptized by
the name of Thomas.
M
-
The weather here was extremely hot in the day-
time; but there were cold dews at night, which were
เ
We sailed right before the wind, which was south-
west, but were obliged to keep continually pumping
till the eighteenth day; when we made the isle of
Labos, about twelve at noon. That night we got safe
That night we got safe
into the harbour, and anchored at twenty fathoms'
water, in clean ground between the two islands. Here
we resolved to careen our ship. Accordingly, ob-
serving 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; and our carpenter, and
all hands, set to work the next day. This island is
barren, and without fresh water. Here we killed
several seals, sea-lions, boobies, and penguins; a sea
fowl about as big as a duck, whose flesh is very ordi-
nary food, but the eggs exceeding good. Here also
we found a small black fowl, which makes holes in the
ground to roost in at night, whose flesh is very good;
and a great many vultures and crows. We had ca-
reened our ship, and were in readiness to sail on the
twenty-sixth, and sailed to the island Fernandos, and
made the middle bay on the seventh of August, winter
being just over there; which continues only for two
months, viz., June and July. We have verbal ac-
counts 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 our sails. There is plenty
of very good fish of divers sorts. It is very pleasant
on the shore, and very healthy; so that the men who
had been ill on our voyage perfectly recovered their
health; for the green pimento-trees diffused a very
agreeable and refreshing healthy smell all over the
island. Here we spent some time in taking wood on
board, and likewise in laying water up, which here is
very good.
very good. We also boiled a considerable number of
sea-lions, of which there are plenty here. We had
also plenty of young seals, which eat very well; only
their livers are unwholesome; and at the south end of
the island we found some goats, of which we killed
about thirty, which were excellent food. Here were
also plenty of turnips and water-cresses, which were
of great service to us in curing the scurvy; of which
we gathered a very large quantity..
;
So having refreshed ourselves very well on this island,
we resolved to steer for Cape Verde in Chili; on the
12th made the island of St Jago, where we anchored,
and sent our boat on shore. Here we bought some
hogs and black cattle for our voyage round Cape Horn
to the Brazils, as also some corn and maize. Here the
people, from the ill-usage they had formerly met with
from the French, are extremely sharp, and really dis-
honest; 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 goods and run away with
them.
4
I likewise methodized his account, during his resi-
dence 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 complete, in three books.
So I return to my voyage.
1
In our voyage from Juan Fernandez we saw a very
large bird, which is called an Alcatres; these birds
spread their wings from eight to ten feet wide. In the
Brazils is a serpent called Liboya, or the Roebuck ser-
pent, the report of which is incredible (in my opinion),
but affirmed by some of the Portuguese; viz., that
there are some of them thirty feet long, the body being
as big, as a hogshead, and that he destroys a roebuck at
one meal. Here we trafficked for several sorts of
drugs. We treated the Portuguese very civilly, who
supplied us with all things necessary for our use.
During our stay here there arrived a brigantine laden
with negroes for the golden mines. Here four of our
men died and three ran away from us, the last of which
:
▾
•
(
we had just occasion: to be thankful for rather than
sorry, for Timothy Anchors overheard them discoursing
that they designed to mutiny at our next sailing, but
was doubtful whether or no they might get enough on
their side to overpower the captain and his party, and
agreeing among themselves that it was a very difficult
matter to become masters of the ship; and, besides,
considering 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 de-
sign, or if they should fail in their attempt, made them
rather choose 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 such characters perform their duty in their
stations.
#1
The tenth of October, after having set Antiope, one
of our negro women, on shore, who refused to be chris-
tened as Diana was, we began to sail, but kept Eliza-
beth and Juno on board, the captain resolving that
she should live with him as his servant, and by that
We did not
means he would bring up Tom's child.
meet with anything very remarkable, but after about
twenty-four hours' easy sail, we passed the tropic and
the 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 Ascension
Island at about a league's distance, and about nine
o'clock we came to an anchor. The sea is here very
deep. The next day we weighed anchor, and sailing
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 tease her, it proved very fatal to one
Thad Obrian, an Irish boy of about sixteen years of
age, who had been fretting the creature with a small
rope, which he made a noose to, and slipped her hind
leg into it, and so worried 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 immediately seized poor Thady by the neck with
such violence that, before anybody could deliver him
from her paws, the poor boy's throat was torn to
pieces, so that he died instantly.
I
1.
We sailed but very slowly now, meeting with con-
tinual calms, and directed our course for the Cape
Verde islands; but on the twenty-sixth we had a heavy
tornado, attended with lightning, which fell as if the
elements had been on fire, but it continued only for a
short time; afterwards the weather proved extremely
fair, the wind being full south. A sailor going up to
furl the main top-gallant, on the third of November in
the morning, saw land, and supposed it to be one of
the Cape Verde islands, bearing north-east, distant
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
the bay, in about five fathom's water, where we rode till
the next day; and then we went to St Nicholas, ano-
ther and one of the largest of the Cape Verde 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 salt which is naturally congealed in salt-
ponds. There are some poor goats on this island, and
some wild fowls. Here are flamingoes, a large fowl
much like a heron, but bigger, and of a reddish colour;
they feed together in muddy ponds, or where there is but
little water. They are hard to shoot, being very shy.
<
•
In St. Nicholas we traded with some of the Spaniards
for ambergris; but they were very fraudulent, having
counterfeited it much. Here are some vineyards and
plantations belonging to the Portuguese, and wine much
like Madeira, of a pale colour, and thick. The people
are swarthy, and the inhabitants live scattered in the
valleys.
✓
•
·
•
2
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 cotton,
which, by his carelessness, had like to have been the
loss of our ship; but, thanks to God, it was discovered
by its smother, just before it began to blaze out; so
that by immediate help we got it extinguished. Very
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
We
+
P
of the Cape Verde islands, but made no stay.
saw at south-west, the island of Del Fago, which is
remarkable for being a volcano, or burning mountain,
out of which issue flames of fire; but they are only
discerned in the night, and then they are seen a great
way off at sea; notwithstanding, there are inhabitants
on this island (as I have been informed by the Portu-
guese of the island of St Nicholas) who lived at the
foot of the mountain, near the sea. There are also
cocoa-nuts, plantains, goats, and fowls.
▾
"
静
​•
1
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
In the island of St Aritanio, another of the Cape
Verde islands, there is a very large spider (as I was in-
formed by the same Portuguese) which weaves its web
between the trees; and it is so strong that it is difficult
for a man to get through. Here are also wild asses;
likewise salt-pits, where great quantities of salt are
naturally made by the sun's heat; with which they
load yearly several ships, and are able to sell much
greater quantities than they do, if they had but vent
for it.
Having dispatched our 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 ex-
tremely 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 is, pretty near
the deck; and the wind blew so extremely fierce that we
did not dare to loose any head-sail at all; for if we had!
they certainly would have been blown away. During
the storm it rained exceedingly fast, which continued
for about four hours, when it changed, and was pretty
calm; and we began to get everything in good order.
The wind that evening changing to south-west, about
six the next evening we saw the Peak of Teneriffe at nine
leagues' distance. We saw some flying-fish and a great
deal of sea-thistle swimming about. We sailed all
night with a small easy gale, and at break of day made
the Canaries; bearing at 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 fathoms
water, black slimy ground, and about half a mile from
the shore. The land being for the most part pretty
high, it is very bad going ashore here in boats; and
ships riding here are often forced to put to sea, or slip
their anchors, by reason the 10ad 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
reside. Their houses are low and uniform, covered
with pantiles. Here are oranges, lemons, and other
fruits; also flowers and sallading, and a great number
of pleasant gardens. At Oratavia the country is so
full of risings and fallings that it is troublesome to walk
up and down in it. Mules and asses are most used by
them. Here grows the right and true Malmsey wine;
here are also Canary and Verdona, or green wine; like-
wise a great many convents. Ships are forced to slip
their cables, perhaps three or four times, by reason of
the winds, and put to sea before they can take in all
their lading.
their lading. Here are wheat, barley, maize, beans,
peas, apples, pears, plums, cherries, pomegranates,
citrons, oranges, lemons, and several other fruits, ex-
cellently good; also horses, asses, mules, cows, goats,
hogs, deer, and fowl, both tame and wild, in great
plenty. Provisions are dear on the trading islands,
but cheap on the others.
Faro isle is very remarkable; it hath no fresh water,
only in the middle of the island, where there grows a
tree which, being continually covered with clouds,
from its leaves aiways drop great quantities of excel-
lent water. These Canary islands are commonly 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 fertile that they have two harvests in a
year. Its commodities are honey, wax, sugar, and the
best of wines; of which we took in a sufficient quan-
tity of each. Here is also dragen's-tree, which pro-
duces a red liquor, called dragon's blood. These
islands are exceedingly wholesome, though they are
inclinable to heat.
361
| modities as Madeira. Here we took in about thirty
pipes of Madeira wine; and having accomplished our
business, we left that island on the tenth, and sailed
for the Lizard with a westerly wind. We had not
sailed above six leagues, but it changed to north-east,
and the sky began to be covered with small hard
clouds, very thick one by another, which we imagined
an approaching storm. Accordingly we provided for
it by reefing our top-sails, and took in our sails as
fast as possible. The wind began to blow a very brisk
gale, and soon after the storm began; the wind still in-
creased 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 shipped
little or no water, though some washed into our upper
deck; and with some of the waves a dolphin was cast
thereon. The wind blew very hard, but about eight
hours after it abated its fierceness, and then the wind
veered to the west, and the foul weather broke up,
and we had smaller gales, with some calms, and fair
weather. On the eighteenth the wind veered 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 three leagues, and stood in
for the land, and came to an anchor in King's Road,
January 3, 1724-5.
Thus I have given an account of our voyage from
Mexico, as I promised, which I hope may not be offen-
sive to anybody; it being my intention to divert the
readers, rather than displease them.
Having taken in the cargo which we designed from
these islands, we sailed thence on the third of Decem-
ber for the Madeira island, with a fair wind at south
south-west, and saw several ships sailing towards the
Lizard. The next day, at eight in the morning, we
made land, which was the Madeira, at about four
leagues' distance, and came to an anchor.
Here are
many fountains and rivers, which refresh the country.
It is a very beautiful island, exceedingly fertile, and
produces excellent wine, which is very strong. We
anchored in the port, which resembles a half moon, not
far from the town. Near this island is another, not so
large as this (which is about sixty leagues in compass)
called Porto Santo, which affords much the same com-
N. B. The ship belonged to Bristol. I communi-
cated the following memoirs to a friend in London, in
order to be published; which, if approved of by the
public, I shall at my return, be very well satisfied. In
the meantime I have business that calls me to Peru
and Mexico again; in which voyage I hope to see
poor Phil, my good old hermit. And so I take my
leave, and end the First Part.
EDWARD Dorrington.
Bristol, Nov. 6, 1725.
BOOK II.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE BIRTH AND EDUCATION OF PHILIP
QUARLL; AS ALSO THE MOST SURPRISING TRANSAC-
TIONS OF HIS LIFE, FROM HIS INFANCY TO HIS BEING
CAST AWAY, TAKEN FROM THE MEMOIRS HE GAVE TO
MR EDWARD DORRINGTON, THE PERSON WHO FOUND
HIM ON THE ISLAND.
PHILIP QUARLL was born in the parish of St Giles,
in the year 1647. His father, Thomas Quarll, formerly
a master builder, having unfortunately ruined himself
in building, was at last reduced to work at the laborious
and mean business of brick-making. His poor wife
also was obliged to lay her hand to the labouring oar,
so went a charing; which slavish and confining occu-
pation robbed her of the necessary time to attend to
the fruit of her conjugal affection, her beloved Phil, so
that she was obliged, whilst she and her poor yoke-
fellow were drudging to get him bread, to commit him
to the care of one kind neighbour or another, for a
small consideration, till he could prattle and go alone;
at which time she put him to school to a good old
almswoman, where he continued till he was six years
old.
One day a neighbour, who formerly had the care of
the child in his mother's absence, having contracted a
particular love for him, being a very pretty child, find-
ing him, after school time, sitting 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 Russell street.
The housekeeper, who was naturally fond of chil-
dren, seeing this pretty child, takes him up in her
arms, and runs up to her good old lady, who had just
ended 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 for his age, and well-shaped, his features regular
and well-proportioned, his complexion fair, his hair
long and curling, his countenance mild and sprightly,
his behaviour gentle and easy; all which qualifications
rendered him completely amiable, and made the old
lady conceive an inclination for him uncommon for a
stranger's child, especially of so mean a birth.
Thus having often kissed him, she wished he had
been her own. "But why," said she, “can't I do for
this lovely creature, though no kin to me by birth?
Nature, who has endued him with qualifications so
proximal and suitable to my inclination, has, by sym-
pathy, made him related to me. His mother gave him
birth, which, without prejudice to her own life, she
could not refuse; now I'll 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
most commendable character of instructing his scho-
lars in their duty to God and man, as well as in lite
rature, had procured him a considerable number of
children of the best families, where she intended to
362
have kept him till he was, in years and learning, qua
lified for some genteel trade, intending to leave him in
her will forty pounds to set him up when out of his
time.
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
But now ill fate begins to show its averseness to
poor Phil's happiness; the worthy lady died suddenly,
and was interred a few days after, to his unspeakable
prejudice and threatening ruin. But watchful Provi-
dence, who had decreed him good, averted the appa-
rent evil, and only permitted some interception to her
purposes, the better to raise his esteem of her succeed-
ing favours when sensible of them.
The master, having conceived a particular love for
the boy (whose uncommon docility and extraordinary
aptness in learning had overtaken the rest of his
school-fellows, though of a much longer standing), was
very much vexed at the thoughts of his going away to
his parents, they being no longer able to continue his
schooling: he was unwilling to part with the boy, and
much disturbed to lose twelve pounds a year for a
boarder. His love for the child, whom he had in a
manner adopted for his own, would now and then rouse
slumbering charity, which self-interest too often casts
asleep. Pity," said he, "such blooming wisdom and
forward learning should wither away for want of culti-
vation." Thus, having pondered awhile, love and
charity, after a long struggle with interest, gained the
victory. The old man concludes to give him his learn-
ing if his relations would only find him in board and
other necessaries.
64
This being concluded upon by both parties, Phil
continued going to school for the space of four years
longer, during which time he made himself a complete
master of the grammar, writing, and arithmetic; he
also made a vast improvement in singing, having all
that time been taught by a master who attended some
boarders three times a week, who, finding an extraor-
dinary voice and natural disposition in the boy, took a
fancy to teach him; so that Phil was, in some respects,
qualified to attend the school in the nature of usher,
had his age permitted it. But as he was as yet too
young to keep the scholars in that awe which is neces-
sary 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 sufficiency to maintain
himself, as others in that station. But ill fate still
attends the poor boy; the good old man died in less
'than a twelvemonth, and was succeeded by a super-
annuated nonconformist minister, who having not so
prosperous a school as his predecessor, had no business
for an assistant. So Phil was a second time obliged
to return to his poor mother (his father being dead),
who, not being in a capacity to do for him as his edu
cation and natural parts really deserved, proposed to
him to learn some trade, in order to get his bread ho-
nestly and creditably, when she should be no more
able to help him, having, by her hard working and
frugal living, made shift to lay up five pounds, which
she dedicated to that purpose.
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 a necessity
for him to resolve upon something, to make his choice
the more easy, he consults the master's nature and
temper, rather than the goodness and profitableness of
the trade; and as there lived in the neighbourhood a
locksmith, ever since 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, the master being
very kind and good-natured, and the man as diligent and
careful; so that those fears of meeting with hardships
being dispersed, he cheerfully worked on, without
thinking the time tedious. But this happiness, though
slight, was but of a short lasting; for the poor man
having been bound for a relation who failed, had all his
effects scized upon, and himself thrown into gaol; and
poor Phil, in a year's time, was obliged to go to his
mother again.
This accident was a vast disappointment to the boy's
learning his trade, he being obliged to be idle, his unfor-
tunate master begging that he would seek after no
other, hoping every day to make up his affairs, and
carry on business again; so that the lad, for want of
employment, would play about the streets with neigh-
bours' children.
-
One day, as he was playing at leap-frog with other
boys, there happened to go by one James Turner, a
house-breaker, who, taking notice of his activity, which
much exceeded the rest, judged he might be of great
use to him in the practice of his art. The meanness of
his dress, which spoke him of no considerable family,
gave him room to hope that he might easily get him:
so, having stopped awhile he took the opportunity that
the boy, being hot with running and jumping, went to
drink at a pump hard by. He takes him by the arm,
saying, "Do you mean to kill yourself, child, to go and
drink cold water now when you are hot? Come along
with me, and I will give thee a draught of good ale; | weeping_eyes, implores the Almighty to direct and
you shall only go a short errand for me."
receive him into his protection; and as she was ac-
quainted with no one that could direct and advise him
in that matter, she bid him go to St Catherine's;
“There,” said she, "you may chance to hear of some
captain or master of a ship, bound for some short voy-
age, who perhaps may want a cabin-boy; which is,
my dear child, all that your age and strength qualifies
you for. In a few years, with the help of God, you
may find some advantageous opportunity to advance
yourself by your learning." So having given him six-
pence to bear his charges, with a tender kiss, she
goes to her wonted occupation, and he straight to St
Catherine's, where Providence had prepared a master
for him; he being no sooner come thither than a cap-
tain of a ship, bound for the East Indies, taking a par-
ticular fancy to bim, asked him whether he would go
to sea; and that, if he was so disposed, he would take
him to look after his cabin, and provide very well for
him.
"Will you, master?" the innocent boy answered;
"I will go your errand, if it is not too far." So followed
him to an alehouse in a blind alley, not far thence, which
he commonly used. Being come, he calls for a quart,
and bids the boy take a hearty pull; which he did, being
very dry, and the liquor as pleasant; this being done
a second time, it began to creep into his head, not
being used to strong drink; and in a little time he fell
asleep on the bench on which he sat.
The seducer thinking himself secure of him, leaves
him to take his nap, shutting the door upon him, and
charging the people of the house not to awake him,
nor let him go away when awake till he returned; so
went to get ready the implements necessary to set his
evil project into execution, having determined to rob
a rich merchant that night; in which wicked action
he intended to make the harmless boy his chief instru.
ment, by putting him in at a hole he was to break,
and then to open the door for him, under the pretence
that it was his uncle, who was so ill-natured as to lock
him out, if not at home at the shop shutting up.
The gentle manner in which he spoke to the boy, and
his mild countenance, made a vast progress in his
affection. So having joyfully accepted his offer, he
desires that he may run home and acquaint his mother
of it. The captain, baving taken his name and place
of abode, gave him half-a-crown to spend with his
mother, and then to come 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 everything
necessary for the voyage.
The overjoyed boy having told his mother of his ex-
traordinary 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 her work.
Having got the tools, he returned to the boy, whom
he found just awake, and very uneasy to go 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 him. First he bespeaks a supper of that
which the boy liked best, who, since 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 his own time, and un-
known to him; but that he was afraid he must be
forced to lie out that night, which would be his death,
not being used to such hardship. The poor tender-
hearted boy, who could scarce forbear crying whilst
he related this dismal story of his uncle's unkind usage,
asked him what was the matter he could not get in Phil, who from his infancy had been used to be
that night as well as at other times? Because," re-from his mother, was less disturbed at his leaving her,
plied the sly knave, "the poor boy that used to let me nothing but this newly intended voyage running in his
in is sick of the small-pox, as I have heard since you mind; so he hastened to the rendezvous his new
fell asleep."
master had appointed him; who, not expecting that
he would return, was so glad to see him that he went
that moment and bought him both clothes and linen
fit for the sea; so equipping him anew cap-a-pie; then
took him home, and, in a few days after, set sail for a
three years' voyage.
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 com-
pany might lead him into, could not be reconciled at
his going from her. But, seeing no remedy, she sends
crowds of prayers after him, accompanied with showers
of tears, recommending him to the care of Heaven, to
whom she daily made addresses for his prosperity.
"6
1
"What! can't you get somebody else ?" said the
simple Phil. "I would do that for you, if I could tell
how to get into my own hole; for my mother goes
to bed betimes, being obliged to get up early."
"As for that matter," answered the subtle serpent,
"do not trouble yourself; I will provide a bed for
you." Thus, having removed both that and all other
obstacles the boy raised, he persuades him to stay.
But ever-watchful Providence rescues his ensnared
innocence. Some hours before he was to go about the
execution of that evil project, Turner was apprehended
for a great robbery he committed the night before in
Lime street; and the boy being in his company, was
also carried before a magistrate. But the justice un-
derstanding, by the innocent boy's defence, he hardly
was yet guilty of any robbery, having regard to his
youth and modest countenance, reprimanded him for his
easiness of being drawn into bad company, and warned
him to be more cautious for the future; so discharged
him, and committed Turner, who was hanged.
That accident, though very lucky by preserving inno-
cent Phil from being made accessory to a robbery which
would have put his life in jeopardy, at the end proved
fatal; he having thereby gained the character of belonging
to some ill gang, for which reason nobody cared to be
concerned with him, which grieved his poor mother.
The poor widow (being left with her unfortunate son,
who she feared would take to some evil owing to want,
which often tempts the innocently-inclined) not being
able, out of her small gettings, to maintain him as when
assisted by her late husband, and seeing no prospect
of his master's coming out of prison and being set up
again, endeavoured to get him into some place to wait
upon some of her mistresses; but the unlucky acoi-
dent of being had before a justice of the peace with a
notorious house-breaker frustrated her endeavours;
so that poor Phil was obliged to continue with his
mother, in a very mean condition, which his honest
mother very much feared would induce him to evil
company, of which the parish she lived in swarmed;
but the good instructions which were given him in his
infancy, before bad examples could have made any
impression on his mind, kept out of his thoughts all
wicked devices. Thus, seeing no probability of amend-
ment in the station he was in, he resolved upon going
to sea, wanting for that employment neither character
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
mother, who, with much reluctance, acquiesced in his
going from her, and leaving his native country, where
she once had hopes to see him well settled; she, with
During their sailing, Phil, whose agreeable aspect
and temper had gained him all the ship's crew's love,
being often with the man at the helm, soon learned
the compass; and by the instructions everybody on
board strove to give him, in a little time he was quali-
fied for a sailor; which his master being made sensible
of, whom he had often diverted with his singing during
that voyage, allowed him sailor's pay the following
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 before.
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; supposing that the
lusty sailors, having a long time been confined to salt
meat, would at their arrival, being flush of money, pur-
chase a bit of fresh at any rate.
+
Being come to Gravesend, where the ship lay, they
found, according to custom, the jolly crew in an ale-
house, spending like asses, what they had earned like
horses, even before they had received it.
At the ladies' coming the elevated sailors, who had
been sailing on salt water for the space of three years,
and since set their brains floating in strong drink for
six 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 off.
The ingenious ladies, who had more wit than
honesty, improved the absence of their understanding,
and being very expert in the art of fathoming, they fell
to examining the depth of those shallow-brained fel-
lows' pockets; which, finding very low, they were much
disheartened from going on, for fear of running a-
ground; but understanding that their ship had not yet
been cleared, they cast their anchor there, waiting for
a fresh gale.
Meantime the merry sailors, fearing no storm, gave
themselves up to sport; and, for better diversion, every
man takes a playfellow, and goes aside, leaving bash-
ful Phil behind; who, being a stranger to the game
they were going to play at, did not dare to put in for
a partner. But, cross fate still attending him, a snare
is laid in which he must fall.
Every man, except modest Quarll, being gone away
with a wench, one being come, supernumerary, staid
behind. The crafty creature, who, from her firs
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 cunning
devices, lying entirely unguarded against her sly at-
tacks, stood no long siege, but capitulated at the first
summons. It is true, she was provided with such
artillery as no fortifications against love could with-
stand, but would force the most stubborn to surrender,
or ar least parley down the fore-runner thereof.
Thus having opened her basilisk's eyes upon him,
as being the first battering-piece the sex plants when
they purpose a breach in a man's heart, she charges
him with a volley of engaging words, whilst her looks
and earriage offer him such prevailing terms as no
man of any feeling can refuse; therefore, being an
exquisite mistress of her art, she soon obtains her
ends.
Poor Quarll, whose heart till then had never been
besieged, finding the invader more tempting than
dreadful, she having a very agreeable shape, charming
complexion, and most engaging features, surrenders
up at discretion, and submits even to bear the yoke of
matrimony; which, in less than an hour, is laid upon
him; the chaplain of a man of war, who lodged in the
house, happening to come in at that critical minute.
By that time the absent revelling crew were cloyed
with their mistresses, and had dismissed them with
rough usage and ill language, of which they generally
are flush when money is scant.
The disappointed wretches, seeing no redress for
their treatment lately received, which they well knew
proceeded 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 would also be better
chaps, they took a garret in a little strong-water-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 being
protected from a gaol, which she was in danger of be-
fore marriage, being the principle advantage she pro-
posed to herself by having a husband, it made her now
easy. But she and all the rest of her companions 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 years' wages being due, the poor men stood
indebted to the merchants,
4
That disappointment put the unfortunate seamen,
and especially the ladies, into a sad consternation: the
former being obliged to go another voyage with empty
pockets, and the latter to seek for cullies to support
their extravagance, and to pay for new lodgings.
Phil, who, during his voyage, had saved a little mo-
ney, which his master gave him at sundry times, being
disgusted at the sea by the late accident, resolves to
seek his better fortune in another manner.
His crafty wife, who was, by her marriage, screened
from her creditors, depending upon her former occupa-
tion, indulged him in that resolution; so they set out
with what 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, he having no other dependence; so he
consults with his spouse about a lodging till he had
quarters appointed for him. She, indeed, was best
acquainted with the town, and knew of several that
would both suit their stock and station, but durst go
to nonc, 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
acquainted with it, was no stranger to shifts, and pre-
sently finds one.
Having pondered for a short time, she concludes
upon going to her last lodgings, where, though she was
considerably in debt, she questioned not but she should
still find a kind reception, and that her landlady where
she had been about a fortnight, having giyen over her
debt, would at her coming slack'en the ill opinion she
had conceived of her, and afford her kind usage; so
having fixed a rendezvous with her husband, she has
tens there, where she found, as was expected, the old
woman as overjoyed as surprised to see her, and much
more when she understood she was married to a sailor,
lately arrived from a three year's voyage; who in a
short time, would be cleared, and that then she would
rub off her score. The old woman, thinking herself
secure of her debt and sure of a good customer, bids
her kindly welcome; and that she hoped she would
take no other lodging but at her house; that she would
make everything as easy and convenient as she
should desire, being as welcome to score as with ready
money.
The subtle woman, having gained ner ends, goes and
fetches her husband, whom the over-reached old wo-
man receives most kindly, expressing her love by a
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
quartern of all-fours, the chief commodity of her house;
that being drunk was succeeded by a second, at the
new tenant's cost; which being brought, with a cheer-
ful welcome to as many as they pleased, encouraged
the coming in of half a dozen more; these warmed
the company, and particularly the landlady, who, hav-
ing greeted Quarll for his most happy marriage, over
and over, fell upon praising his wife, whom she had
known for a long time, giving her all the encomiums
that virtue itself could deserve.
In this manner they lived about a fortnight, still upon
score; which increasing very fast, and no prospect of
money, it obliged the landlady to put them in mind,
often asking when they expected the ship to be cleared.
Quarll, who discerned by the cloud which appeared
over her brow, a threatening storm, begins to think of
a harbour, and forthwith goes and enlists himself in the
foot-guards.
In that mean station, which often is the last spite of
a surly fate, a continuation of misfortunes attends him :
the company in which he enlisted is full of mercers
and shopkeepers, who, for a protection, took on in the
service, and quitted their pay to the covetous colonel
to be exempted from duty, which made it fall heavy on
the effective men; but kind Providence, who ever
limited the evil that attended him by fortune, ordered
this its vexatious influence to turn to his advantage.
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 singing, to divert melancholy thoughts, which so-
litude is apt to indulge; at that time happened to come
by a colonel of the same regiment, who, being merrily
disposed, stopped for several minutes to hear him sing;
Quarll, having made an end of his song, fell a whistling
the tune; at which the colonel came to him saying,
“How can you profane such a fine tune with whistling
when you can sing it so well? Pray let me hear you
do it once more, and grace it with that good voice na-
ture has given you." Quarll having made some few
modest excuses, yields to his pressing solicitation, and
sings the same song over again, and with more care
than before, which so pleased the gentleman that he
stood half an hour with him, asking him questions, and
being by him informed whose company he belonged to,
having his 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, at eight o'clock in the evening, and ask for Colonel
Bonguard; so went away.
Quarli, being off duty, the next day went to the
place at the time appointed, where he finds the colonel
in company with half a score more gentlemen, who re-
ceived him with more civility and complaisance than
is usually paid to men of his coat; so, having desired
him to sit down amongst them, and the glass going
round once or twice, the colonel having praised his
singing to the company, he was desired to compliment
them with a song; if he pleased, with that he
sung to
the colonel the night before. Quarll, having modestly
told the gentlemen he wished that his skill and voice
deserved the honour of their hearing, and that he
would do the best he could, having at their request
drunk another glass, sung the song they desired, to
their great satisfaction and applause.
After a short space of time was spent in the praise of
singing, and a talk of what an engaging accomplishment
it is, either in man or woman, some of the company hold-
ing that the charms of music are nowise 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 su-
premacy over all that can affect our minds; seeing it
strips a man of the benefits of his own senses, of the
strength of his reason, and soundness of judgment.
No object is fair but that whose idea hath impressed
the mind; no harmony heard but in the beloved voice,
or that which sounds its praise; dainties have no savour
in the absence of that which everything relishes; the
fairest days are but dull, if not enlivened by the light
of the charmer's presence.
Thus he rat. on, till the company, perceiving he was
beginning to be uneasy, desired Quarll to sing the gen-
tleman a love song who spoke so much in its praise,
which he did, and pleased the lover so exceedingly,
that he made him a present of half a guinea. The
gentleman who was altogether for music, having asked
Quarll whether he had anything in the praise thereof,
having also his request answered, he made the rest of
the company crave a song in the commendation of
what suited their inclinations; some being for a bottle,
others for roving, and others for a country life.
Quarll, being provided with such songs, entertained
them to their desires till supper was brought up;
which being over, the company, which had been so
well diverted with Quarll's singing, consulted together
to do him service; and, as he was well qualified to
teach, they proposed to recommend him scholars. A
gentleman in company having a sister who intended to
learn, he writes a letter to her, desiring she would
make use of no other master, which letter he was to
carry the next morning; and, as his regimental clothes
363.
might lessen her opinion of his merit, he bids him,'
before he goes, to call at his lodging, 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 a hat to be com-
pletely dressed (having an extraordinary handsome
head of hair), another gentleman bids him call on him
for one; so that he had all that he wanted to set him
out.
The gentleman having given him his directions where
to go for the things, and the colonel having made him
a promise to get him discharged out of the company
he did belong to, at least to have him exchanged into
his own, they every one gave him their crown apiece;
so they departed, strictly bidding him not to fail coming
thither again that day seven-night.
This unexpected, but lucky adventure, like a sud-
den surprise, unframed his reason, and makes poor
Quarll overlook the only obstacle that could obstruct
his blooming happiness. Thus transported with seeing
himself master of more money than ever he was worth
before, and, as he concluded, in a fair prospect of ad-
vancing himself, he now hastens home, and dressed in
his guard clothes, in which he ought not to be scen
there, that being a dress obnoxious to most, and more
especially to creditors.
His landlady, who, till then, had been made to expect
her money, thinking he only waited the ship's 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 utterance, crowd
in her foaming mouth, and, like a rapid torrent which,
running from a large extent into a narrow channel,
swells and overflows its banks; so her passion, finding
her mouth too small a passage, breaks out through
her eyes thus, having shrieked and roared awhile,
which occasioned all her lodgers to come down, she
charges poor Quarli with shoals of abuses, in the vilest
and most insulting terms the most inveterate malice
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 one bereft of her senses; so, having torn her head
clothes off her head, with words suitable to the barba-
rous deeds, she thrust them both out of doors; which,
though the rudest action that could denote the un-
mercifulness of her intended revenge, was to them at
that time the kindest act she could perform.
That unexpected treatment was no small check to
Quarll's cheerful disposition; but having considered
that one time or other he must have stood the shock,
he rejoices that it is over: and, being free from the
care of getting her paid, he has at that time nothing
to think of but to find another lodging; which being
then too late to go about, he concludes to wait for
morning at a certain cellar at Charing cross, which
is open all night. Going along, his wife mildly blamed
him for his unadvised coming in that dress, which, he
might imagine, could produce no better effect; to
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 stayed;
but now he was come away, being better provided, and
in a better way, he would have better lodgings: he
then 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 led by evil inclination, as many are.
The morning being come, whilst she went to seek her
lodging, he went for the clothes he was promised the
evening before, which fitted him as if made on purpose,
and made him appear as one of the genteel employ-
ment he was recommended for. Being newly shaved
and powdered, he went with the letter, according to
order; and was received suitably to the recommenda-
tion given him. The lady being just up, made him.
drink chocolate with her; then, having required a
song, she agrees with him for a guinea a month, the
usual rate, and gives him a guinea at entrance, as it is
common, and so began that very morning promising to
recommend him to a lady, who had two daughters,
which she accordingly did, and sent him thither the
next time he came.
This fair prospect of a handsome and genteel living,
which he always was desirous of, made him forget his
past misfortunes. Thus joyfully he returns to the
cellar, where he had spent the night before, and where
he had appointed to meet his wife, after she had fixed
upon a lodging; who accordingly came in less than a
quarter of an hour, hoping she had pleased her hus-
band, which she resolved for the future to endeavour.
She sat down, expecting his coming, not knowing he
had already waited her's; his change of dress con-
cealing him from her, not expecting to see 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 business, having none with
her, prevented his speaking. His silence, which she
THE ROMANCİST AND NOVELIS г'S LIBRARY.
I'Š
364
*****-car
|
took to proceed from bashfulness, occasioned her look-
ing him in the face; in which discovering her dear
husband's features, to whose natural handsomeness his
genteel clothes were no small addition, she was seized
with such a surprise that it struck her speechless for
some minutes.
more brought them together, none but death should
more brought them together, none but death should
sever him from the person he loved so dearly; and
that he would expire in those soft arms which often
gave him life.
(6
Quarll, 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
he, "what's the matter? are you not well?" Having
recovered her speech, she embraced him, saying,
64
How can I be ill, when my dear heart and soul
appears so well?”
These kind words, and the return of that flush which
first kindled love's fire in his heart, enflames it afresh;
hardly can he govern his new-raised passion: thus,
giving her a kiss, "My love," says he, "have you got
me a lodging?"
"Yes, my dear," replies the loving wife; "you shall
ever dwell in my heart."
"But I want to lie in your arms," answers he;
"that can't be done here."
46
Well, then," said she, "I have provided a fit
place." So, having each of them taken a dram, they
went away.
Sally, who till then was a stranger to real love, now
feels its true smart; and though she has for some time
enjoyed the fruition, the only bliss pains-taking lovers
aspire at for the reward of all their toils and labours,
and the happy shore love's compass points at, yet she
seems uneasy, as expecting something more; she ca-
vils 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; devot-
ing herself wholly to the diligent and 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 tenderest and
most sincere love and affection a really fond husband
can show or express to a darling wife.
They lived in that truly happy state about half a
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 observing
Sally, knowing her husband delighted in flowers and
greens, went to Covent garden, in order to buy some
to garnish her windows and chimney, being the only
things wanting to complete the neatness of her lodg-
ing, which she kept in the greatest order. As she
was going she most unfortunately met with the per-
jured knight who deceived her out of her virtue, and
with whom she had lived for a considerable time, in
expectation of his fulfilling the promise he made her
when she put him in possession of her maiden-treasure ;
who, being glutted with his sacrilegious theft, most
basely and ungratefully left her destitute. Fain would
she have shunned the fatal principle and origin of her
past misfortunes and hellish motive of her late evil
life, which she mortally abhorred, and zealously re-
nounced, but inexorable fate has decreed her ruin;
she can nowise avoid him, he was too near before she
perceived that he 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 irreconcilable antipathy she had conceived for the
mortal enemy of her newly retrieved virtue being star-
tled at his terrifying appearance, set her whole faculty
in an uproar, and scares away her senses; not so much
as a word being left her.
The amorous knight, whose late love for the fair
Sally (whose regular living had repaired those charms
her former lewd life had very much damaged) was
revived, and grown more passionate than ever, flat-
tering his hopes with the thoughts that her present
disorder proceeded from joy and surprise, took the
opportunity of an empty hackney-coach which was
going by to bring her to his lodgings; so having
stopped it, he puts in the poor dispirited woman, alto-
gether insensible of what was done or designed; but
having, with the shaking of the coach, recovered a
little spirit, and finding herself so much in his power,
as aimed at her total ruin, she gave a loud shriek,
which occasioned the coach to be stopped by some
people who were going by; but his protesting he had
no other design but to take her to a friend's house till
she was entirely recovered, representing also the dan-
ger of exposing herself by opposing his kind intention,
being then near a street where he and she had lived
together a considerable time, in some measure pacified
her; so having put his head out of the coach, he tells
the people who stood by that his wife, who had been
lately overset, was afraid of the like accident, which
made her scream, so bid the coachman drive on;
during which time he entertains her with all the marks
of a passionate love, swearing over and over he was
her slave for ever; and that now kind fortune once
These fond expressions, which she formerly had
given credit to, are now upbraidings and reproaches
for her too easy credulity, and only increased her ha-
tred for the deluder, which at that time she thought
proper to conceal; thus, restraining her passion, she
assumes a feigned calmness, and mildly returns him
thanks for his love, which she cannot indulge, being
married. “Married !” said he, "and I living! Was
you not mine?"
"I was, indeed," replied she, blushing with anger
and shame. "But what was I? I tremble to think
on't."
46
Why," said he, "my love and heart's delight, and
shall be whilst breath keeps it in motion."
"Oh, false man!" said she, weeping most bitterly,
"repeat not those deluding words which betrayed my
virtue."
46
Come," said he, "eease that flood which over-
flows my soul with the bitterest of sorrows, and re-
prieve the most penitent of men from the cruelest
of deaths; my submissive observance of your incli-
nations shall henceforth atone for all past given dis
pleasures."
"Mean you," said she, "as you speak””
"By all that's sacred, I do," replied he.
"Then," said Sally, joyfully, "set me down here,
and I'll forgive what's past."
CL
No, my dear, this being a request I cannot in ho-
nour grant, I may, without breach of promise, refuse;
I must see you quite re-established first."
By this time the coach was arrived to the directed
place, which proved to be a house where she had last
lived with the knight, which being open, and the
landlady at the door,
landlady at the door, obliged her to go in without
resistance, fearing it would be of no use, but rather
prejudicial to her design; so she quietly went in,
hoping 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 extra-
ordinary beneficial lodger before, went out of the room,
and left her to his pleasure.
Poor Sally, seeing herself at the point of being a
second time undone, there being no one to assist her
second time undone, there being no one to assist 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 therefore out of hearing,
distant from the house, and therefore out of hearing,
gives herself up to despair, sought the opportunity of
laying hold of his sword, on which she was resolved to
fall, rather than yield to his adulterous desires. Thus,
whilst the knight was labouring to express the height
of his love, by the most endearing terms and prevailing
words the most passionate lover could invent, she, of a
sudden, snatched the sword from his side, and turned
the point thereof towards her breast, in order to exe-
cute her barbarous though virtuous resolution.
"What do you mean?" said he, laying hold of her
arm.
"}
"To get myself at liberty," said she, "which you
basely refuse: so falls into a violent fit, which lasted
some minutes; which was no sooner over but it was
succeeded by another, and so on for the space of three
hours, at the end of which time she was so faint and
weak that her life was despaired of, and so continued
all day, which made the knight repent that he had
forced her to stay, so much against her will, heartily
wishing that he knew where she lived, that he might
wishing that he knew where she lived, that he might
send her home; which she not being well enough to
tell, the landlady, by the knight's order, got the best
room of the house fitted up for her; and, the bed
being warmed, she was carefully laid in it, and a doc-
tor sent for, who, having felt her disordered pulse, said
her indisposition proceeded from passion and grief, and
ordered that she should be let blood, which would give
her oppressed spirits a present relief. The physician
was no sooner gone but the surgeon was sent for to
perform the doctor's orders, which gave her immediate
ease, and in a little time caused her to sleep, which
lasted all the night.
This great and sudden amendment much rejoiced
the most afflicted knight, who made a vow not to leave
her till she was restored to her wonted health, sitting
up by her all night.
The next morning Sally, whose good night's rest
had in a great measure recovered her strength and
reason, finding herself in a strange bed, and from her
husband, was again seized with surprise, which did
much threaten a relapse. "Heavens!" said she, “by
what enchantments am I here? What fiends could
ravish me out of my dear spouse's arms?" Then, see-
ing the knight stand by the bedside, she gives a loud
shriek. Oh! vile ravisher!" said she, "is it then
by another of your hellish stratagems that I am again
betrayed into your power?" at which she fell into a
violent fit of crying.
"No, most virtuous woman," replied the knight,
falling on his knees; "it is by accident, of which I own
myself to be the most miserable occasion, for which I
myself to be the most miserable occasion, for which I
)
heartily ask both Heaven and your pardon." Then he
relates the whole matter, which the late illness her
excessive grief and passion brought upon her had
made her forget.
That woeful relation did but add to her trouble by
heightening her grief. “Oh !" said she, with a fresh
shower of tears, "how can I look my deur husband in
the face, when any very justification turns to my
shame ? "
The knight, who was in as great a consternation as
she could be in, takes her hand, which lay motionless
out of the bed, and, bathing it with tears, begs her to
forbear terrifying his most penitent soul, promising to
rectify all past wrongs. "You remember, my life,"
said he, "the vows I made when first you gave your-
self to me: I renew them now, and would fulfil them,
but that it would expose you to the rigour of the law;
therefore I'll only, for the present, settle five hundred
pounds a year upon you for your life, till, by your
husband's death, I am empowered to make you lawful
mistress of all my estate. Pray compose yourself, and
sedately consider on't, and when 'tis come to a con-
clusion, I'll attend for your answer." So withdrew
for awhile.
This generous offer, expressing the sincerity of his
love, for whom she had formerly more than a common
esteem, in a great measure appeased her passion; the
offered atonement disarms her revenge; she now
pleads for him she had condemned, and blames herself
for the crime she had charged him with." How could
I," said she, "think my virtue safe in his hands, on
whom love has such an ascendant (which is itself 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 busi-
>>
ness.
tue.
Having made these reconcilable reflections, and
being at the point of accepting his offer, conscience
starts and opposes her resolution; her husband stands
in the way, rigged in all those engaging qualifications
which had won her affection. This coming into her
mind, in a manner scares away her reason; she can-
not 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 prompted by vir-
The debate is great, and both their arguments
strong. Reason is called to decide the matter, which
having (as it is her custom) sedately weighed the
cause, examined both accidents and incidents, at last
seems inclinable to favour the love for the knight;
but justice, who is always in the right, will not resign
it. Peace and content, the only motives worth con-
tending for, must be consulted. They being also cau-
tious of giving a rash verdict, examined on which
side they were in most safety; and finding themselves
most screened from upbraidings and reproaches (their
mortal enemies) for the knight, gave it of his side. So
justice, who seldom gets its due, is forced to drop the
cause, and tacitly withdraw.
The knight's offer being the softest choice for an
easy and quiet life, which she could not reasonably
expect from her husband, who doubtless would, from
the late accident, conceive an ill opinion of her virtue
(which, although at that time blameless, she could not
with modesty vindicate), having sent for the knight,
she speaks to him after this manner :-
"I have had so much reason to repent my being too
credulous, by the many vexations it has occasioned
me now, that should I, upon the bare repeating of
broken promises, expose myself to the same, you
yourself could not but blame me."
"L
Indeed, dear Sally," said the knight, interrupting
her, "I own you have sufficient cause to question my
sincerity; but I will this moment remove it." So he
that moment sends for a lawyer, and makes the pro.
posed settlement; then gives orders that a mercor
should be fetched for her to take her choice of the
most modish silks, and then for a silk night-gown, for
her to wear till her clothes were made; as, alsó, fór
all manner of linen, shoes, and stockings. Then,
having new rigged her from top to toe-"Now," said
he, " my dear, you are entirely mine; give me direc-
tions that I may send your husband what he can
challenge as his own;" so he writes the following
•
letter:
to.
"Sir,-Lest the absence of her who unthinkingly
gave herself to you for a wife (though not at her
own disposal, being mine before) should cause you
any further trouble, these are to satisfy you that I
have retaken possession of my own:
to send you
back her clothes, as being all you can clainf a right
I am yours,
R. S."
Having sealed up the letter, and bundled up the
clothes, a porter was called, to whom orders were
given to carry the bundle and letter to the most per-
plexed and concerned Quarll, who had spent the night
in unspeakable torment. A thousand dismal accidents
glared at his alarmed fancy, which created new racks
for his tortured soul. He tumbles on his bed 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, and nature with unkind-
ness. Thus, like one bereft of his genses, and quite
void of reason, he snarls at the whole creation.
:
At length the long-wished-for day having sent 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
nowise lessens his pains. Thus 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 both
were equal; but the bundle being more surprising to
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 sur-
prise he lets it drop out of his hands, and like one
thunderstruck, remained speechless for several minutes.
Then fetching a deep and heavy sigh, attended with a
shower of tears, he bitterly exclaims against himself
for questioning the faithfulness of that love of which
he now has such fatal proofs,
Thus concluding she had drowned herself, and that
the letter would inform him of the cause thereof, 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'll peruse thee, though
thy contents be but racks for ine, and the most cruel
tortures that ever were or can be invented."
The good lady having conceived the principal means
to bring her design about, took the opportunity of
Quarll's next coming to propose it to him, promising to
make her worth three hundred pounds, which was the
only motive that could engage him to break the re-
solution he had made. The young woman being also
very agreeable in her person, and extraordinarily
obliging to him, he readily accepted the offer.
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 now-married wife, thinking herself in some mea-
sure under confinement whilst in the good lady's
house, to whom duty and gratitude obliged her to be
more than indifferently observing, being somewhat am-
bitious of living great, persuades her husband to take
a house, and furnish it, which being done according to
her desire, they went away from the kind old lady to
live by themselves, without considering the expense
of housekeeping, which they both till then had been
strangers to, but in a little time became too well ac-
quainted with.
The three hundred pounds being gone in furnishing
the house and paying two years rent, and as many
1
1
!
3
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
|
years' wages to a couple of maids, one whereof she kept
in the station she herself had but lately overcome,
Quarll was obliged to reduce his charges, and level
his expenses to his income; so he discharges the su-
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 doctors than the servant's wages which
he endeavoured to save.
Being taken very ill, and knowing not what to com-
plain of, a doctor was granted at her importunity
rather than her need; who, being come, and finding
her indisposition lie in her temper more than a defect
of nature, ordered her medicines to make them both in
the same condition.
Her strength decaying, and the apothecary's bill in-
creasing, which are the usual effects of imaginary ill-
ness, made her husband apprehensive that considerable
charges might accrue from her fanciful and imaginary
distemper, which he would not indulge, and feared to
check too suddenly lest it might produce some other
ill effect, so, in compliance to her natural pride, he
promises her going in the country, as being a proper
expedient to save his money, and to be rid of a grunt-
ing companion, at least during the summer.
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 blames
his eyes for not seeing right, his apprehension for mis-
taking the meaning; his blind love taxes his reason
with rashness, the mistaken expressions being but il-
lusions proceeding from an oppression upon the in-
tellects; so he lays down the letter till his disturbed
mind was better settled; yet he cannot be easy; he
still defective; on which finding no fault, he hastily distant from meddling and inspecting neighbours, and tendance, told them that indeed she could not find
takes up the letter again, but, alas! it was the same room to spare, were very glad to take in a gentlewoman fault with them; and that their habitation might suit
as before. "My judgment," said he, "has been as to board, being some company for them in their re- their birth, but really it did not her's, which her hus-
much wronged as my love." So after a few considera- mote living, and therefore stood upon no rate, which band very well knew; and therefore she never would
tions, calling to mind that, as an accident had pro- suiting Quarll's circumstances and wishes, he began to forgive him for bringing her thither, and that he should
cured her to him, he ought, without reluctancy, to consult on means to keep his wife there for a constancy; soon know; so she desired them to give her paper and
surrender her again; having made a resolution never and as he well knew she never would consent, nor he ink, if the house could afford such a thing.
to venture any more on that uncertain state which be able to force her to it by violence, he applies to The good people, who had been cautioned to give
commonly promises happiness, but often brings sorrow, stratagems. Thus having given her the best cha-her her humour in that at the beginning, having none
he shifts his lodging, and goes to live where he is un- racter he could to the old people for good humour, at home, sent the boy that attended their sheep on
known, the better to pass for a bachelor, in which he tells them that indeed she had one failing, but that horseback to the next town for them; then leaving
free station ha
enjoyed peace undisturbed, and plea- it was nowise troublesome provided one gave her her her to compose herself, they retired to bewail among
sures uncontrolled, for the space of twelve months. way; she is very vapourish, and looks for great at- themselves her misfortune, which they perceived to be
But cross fate still pursues him; he must again be tendance. “O dear! that's quality distemper. Well, the effect of pride, reflecting upon the happiness of
fettered, and bear yet heavier chains than before. A if that be all," replied the old folks, "she shall not their own condition, and the pleasure of a contented
second mate is allotted him, who, though very chaste, want for any one thing."
life.
dooms him wretched, being short of other qualifications
necessary in a wife to make a man happy.
**
*
3797:
EC
#F
This woman had been bred up from her infancy
under the care of the lady whose two daughters Quarĺl
taught to sing, and had lived with her, in the station of
chamber-maid, ever since she was big enough to offi-
ciate in that place; during which time, having behaved
herself to her mistress's content, she gained her affec-
tion; so that this good lady, being desirous to advance
her maid, whose age fitted her for marriage, the chief
settlement for a woman, she cast her eyes upon her
daughters' singing-master, who she thought would
make her a good husband, having observed him, ever
since he came to her house, to carry and behave him-
self very decently. Thus having declared her mind to
her, who had already a great inclination that way, she
readily submitted to her lady's will, who promised to
bring it about.
More," said he, "I must caution you of, which is
this; she will soon be tired of her lodging, and will be
for returning to London, so will seek all opportunities
to steal away, if she finds herself opposed in her de-
sires; therefore it is best not to contradict her directly,
sires; therefore it is best not to contradict her directly,
but be sure watch her narrowly, lest she give you the
slip."
"Never fear," replied the good people;
<< we will
take care of that: she never shall go one step alone.
She is not apt to lay violent hands upon herself, and
do herself a mischief."
This proposal suiting her ambition to imitate quality
(who, for the generality, go out of town about that
time of the year), was soon accepted of; and that
portunity, of being freed from one of the greatest
plagues which can befal a man, by him as soon ap-
proved.
Quarll being gone, the old people, according to their
charge, were extraordinarily diligent and careful in
pleasing their new lodger; who, finding her ambition
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 prin-
cipal things she could show her, there being neither
house nor habitation, but their own little cottage,
within sight. She, who thought her lodgings to be in
a handsome and creditable house, near a genteel neigh-
op-bourhood, with whom she might converse, finding the
reverse of her expectations, could not conceal her
passion at the disappointment, but falls a-railing against
her husband in such a rage as frightened the poor
di-young woman; who, doubting she was going into one
of her fits, ran home to fetch her father and mother,
who, being come, were as much frightened as their
daughter at her furious countenance, the blood being
ready to start out of her face, and her eyes out of her
head.
head. Thus, fearing she would grow unruly, each of
them took hold of one of her arms, and so in a man-
ner dragged her home; where, being come, they would
have laid her upon the bed; but she, who took this
Quarll having got her in the mind, was nowise
latory to get it performed: but made diligent inquiry
about the most convenient place in the country for re-
moteness and cheapness, which being informed of, he
forthwith takes horse, and having found a good old
countryman with his wife and daughter in Yorkshire,
whose diligent cares and frugal living, while young
and strong, had been rewarded with a moderate com-
petence, to keep him from toiling when grown old,
"No, no," replied he, "there is no danger of that;
you may trust her alone within doors at any time, but
never abroad. One thing more I must give you notice
of; that is, when she finds she cannot get away, she
will be for sending 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 see
you have plenty of poultry, which she loves very well."
"O dear, sir," answered the old woman, "she shall
have fish, flesh, and fowl, when she pleases. We have
a fine pond in the ground, well stocked with fish; and
cocks and hens enough, you see, about the yard; and
for butcher's meat, it is but a two or three hours' ride
to the next town.”
365
hood, answered her ambition or his commendations,
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 her abundance of
respect, giving her the title of lady, and a good supper
being prepared, she inquired no further into the matter.
The next morning, Quarll having represented to his
spouse it would be of prejudice to him if he stayed
any longer from his scholars, having already lost six
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 to London, having first renewed
his charge to the good people of the house of giving
her her humour, and, above all, not to let her go out
alone, nor consent to her coming up to London, which,
in a little time, he questioned not but she would be
very desirous of.

So Quarll having agreed, and paid one quarter be-
forehand, (which he promised to do whilst she boarded
there,) he returns to London, in order to fetch his
wife; who having projected a greatness of living in
the country, which she was disappointed of in town,
immediately inquired into the appearance of the house,
the handsomeness of the lodgings, and the gentility of
the neighbours; to which questions Quarll took care
to answer suitable to her inclination. So, having con-
cluded to go the next day, they went out to make pro-
vision of such things as cannot well be had in the
country, as Nantz brandy, ratafia, usquebaugh, coffee,
chocolate, and such things as were necessary for gen-
teel company.
"Now," said they,* "she has been brought up in a
city where excess of pleasure and luxury are made the
only means to arrive at content. But, alas! how
widely do they miss their aim! their life is a continued
series of cares; their emulation and vanity in fashions,
entertainments, and such like, together with their in-
separable companion, envy, only contribute to make
an unhappy life still more miserable.
Here this gen-
tlewoman wants for no manner of necessaries to make
a life comfortable, but has rather a superabundancy.
Could she reject that horrid pain-causing quality of
pride, and learn a little humility, it is that brings con-
tent and sweetens all the misfortunes of this life. How
preferable is our station to hers! how solid is the
pleasure we enjoy in this solitary habitatiou compared
to the trifling joys the great ones possess in the most
populous cities! O happy fields and silent groves!
where nothing but eternal rounds of pleasure centre !
Here no debaucheries, riotings, fashions, and luxurious
entertainments; no envy of others' good fortune, no
drunkenness, swearing, and blaspheming the mercies
of the Almighty God ever take place as in flourishing
cities; but Providence gives us all things with a boun-
tiful hand; in short, we have all we desire, and more
than we justly deserve. Here the beauteous birds,
joyfully hopping from bough to bough, stretch their
tuneful throats, and warble out melodious anthems to
their great Creator's praise; whilst flowery hills, in
harmonious echoes, repeat the same to the fruitful
neighbouring vales. Here is nothing to be seen or
heard but universal acclamations of praise to the great
God of all things. This is the real solid pleasure;
this is what makes us perfectly happy. For how much
more eligible is the company of irrational animals, or
even inanimate things, than the society of men who
have divested themselves of all things but shape,
whereby to distinguish them from the most deformed
brutes, or, indeed, from more horrible devils? This
+
* N.B. The lines marked with (") are set down word for
word with his memoirs, for these reasons: 1. I thought it a
Being provided for everything, they set out the next
pity to alter anything from his notion of the pleasures of a
day; but, as neither lodgings, house, nor neighbour-lively ideas of the perfect happiness he enjoys in his solitude.
Country life. 9. And the rather, because it gives us very
I
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
and so from time to time, till at last she began to
doubt of their giving orders, meaning to keep her
there; she thus resolved to go herself; but, not
knowing the way, she desired somebody might be sent
along with her, which they were ready to grant, but
never could be had, being always out of the way, about
some business or other.
-366
gentlewoman has put us in mind of our own happiness,
of which, before her coming, we were almost ignorant;
but now we may see that happiness consists not in
riches, nor content in gaudy apparel. But why do we
tarry here? It is not proper to leave the gentlewoman
so long alone, lest, in one of her fits, she should do her-
self a mischief. Therefore let one of us go to her." So
the good woman of the house went to her, and finding
her in tears, used all possible endeavours to divert her
melancholy, but all to no purpose, for still she was in-
terrupted by exclamations against "That villain ! that
rogue!" her husband. The good woman finding that
words could not prevail, thought a glass of ratifla 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 de-
sired effect; for her melancholy was by this time
turned into most violent fits of the spleen, and pre-
sently into drowsiness. The landlady perceiving her
condition, desired her to lie down and refresh herself
by taking a little sleep. So laying her down upon her
bed, and watching her to sleep, she retired.
After she had slept an hour or two, she awakes in a
very splenetic humour, and calls to know the reason
why pen, ink, and paper were refused her. "Indeed,”
said the old woman, "we did not know that your
ladyship was awake; and we did not care to disturb
you; but I will bring it to you presently." So went
and brought it; which she no sooner received, but she
began to write the following letter:
"Most barbarous of Men,
"Were you afraid that my indisposition (for which
you most deceitfully did persuade me to leave Lon-
don) would not kill me quick enough itself, that
you have decoyed me to
me to an oven, the dulness
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 folks of the hut, who,
being stript of their clumsy human shape, will be
as complete brutes as their oxen and cows. Pray
Pray
see that you forthwith fetch me hence, or expect to
incur all the resentment an injured wife can show
as soon as arrived to London, where I shall surely
come in a few days, though I was to travel all the
"MARY QUARll."
way barefoot. Yours, &c.
This letter being written, the good people of the
house were in a great consternation whether they
ought to send it or not; but after some consultation
about the matter they concluded it should go, lest 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 great deal of judgment, prepared
the following answer :-
"
My Dear,
"If your pride and vanity do outrun your reason,
it is no argument my compliance to them should
hasten my ruin; and if you consult your circum-
stances, as I do my ability, you will not discommend
your careful husband,
"PHILIP QUarel."
And with that, one to her landlord and landlady,
whom he thanked for their care of sending the letter,
but desired they would not trouble themselves with
sending any more, nor give her opportunity of writing,
seeing that it did but aggravate her distemper; and,
above all things, to have a particular care she should
not give them the slip, and he would take care to gra-
tify them for their trouble.
This obliging letter, together with a pair of hand-
some green stockings and lemon-colour gloves to the
daughter, did so win the old folk's affection, that they
were extremely punctual in observing his orders; but
that to his wife had quite a different success; for,
instead of putting her into consideration, it set her
into such a violent rage as would scarce permit her to
read it throughout; so, tearing it to pieces, she storms
out, "Consider my circumstances, vile wretch let
him behold my portion, whether it deserves me no
better a place than a hovel! Landlady, send imme-
diately to the town, and get me a placé in the stage
against to-morrow, for I will go and tear that villain
to pieces."
The good woman was not a little displeased to hear
her thus despise her house, which was the best within
a mile round; but as she imagined it was the effect of
her vapours, instead of vindicating her house, which,
though old and low built, was tolerably large, and
very convenient, she seemed to acquiesce with her,
wishing it had been better for her suke; but as for
sending to take a place, it was then too late, for by the
time a messenger could be got to town the office would
be shut up; so that the next time she went out she
would take care that a place should be taken, so ex-
cused it for that weck. In the mean time she gave
her her humour, being very respectful and observing;
which, suiting her pride, niade her something more
easy, and in some measure diverted her raving fits,
for she fully depended upon going the week following,
but was again disappointed by one mishap or other,
BOKO KA
all the necessary qualifications of his employ; but his
mistress being a very religious woman, going 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 sly knave,
soon advanced himself to be a footman to a young
Thus continuing for the space of a month or more,
nobleman. Here he began to show his genius; for his
and no news coming from London, she began to think master being a young gentleman very much delighted
it was a contrivance of her husband's to be rid of her with love adventures, frequently made use of him in
with only paying for her board and lodging, which she those cases; and, finding him to be of a sharp ready
understood he had done beforehand, and agreed to do wit, very careful, and well skilled in taciturnity, soon
so during her stay, which, very probably, might be for made him secret messenger in ordinary to all his in-
her life; but she resolved to disappoint him by privily trigues; in which station he behaved himself re-
stealing away, and at a venture seek out the road to
stealing away, and at a venture seek out the road to markably well, having all the
markably well, having all the accomplishments ne-
the next town, not questioning but she should find cessary for so weighty a trust, viz. vigilance, dispatch,
somebody as she went that would direct her; but the and secrecy, and these so well managed that he sel-
old folks, having been warned of such an enterprize dom failed in his designs. This post of honour he en-
by her husband, were too vigilant to give her an op-joyed for a long time, with great credit and reputation;
portunity of attempting it, never leaving her by her- and gained so great a share of his master's affections
self from the time of her getting up to her going to
that he likewise made him first minister to all his affairs.
bed again, which over-attendance convinced her of her
imprisonment.
Then finding herself curbed in her ambition, disap-
pointed in her pride, and tricked out of her liberty,
without hopes of being relieved; the letters she sent
to her friends being intercepted, she falls into a pas-
sion suitable to her case and disposition, which having
vented upon the people of the abetting
adhering to her perfidious husband in so traitorous a
deed, her spirits being exhausted so prodigiously with
raving, that nothing but a cordial dram could ever
have brought them to their usual tone, and which she
by long experience knew, calls for her grand specific;
and, after she had drunk 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, considering that all the re
sentment she was capable to show could not mend her
condition, she therefore concluded to make her land-
lord 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 began to be much more
familiar and condescending than what she had hitherto
shown, to the great joy 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 advantage, for
she was a woman of quick penetration; and finding
how egregiously those ignorant people had been im-
posed upon in relation to her phrenzy, saw the only
posed upon in relation to her phrenzy, saw the only
means to regain her liberty was to pretend a recovery.
And accordingly, by a counterfeit change of temper,
she endeavoured to persuade the people into a good
opinion of her, telling them she could never requite
sition, and lamenting her own unhappiness in being so
their extreme good services to her during her indispo-
troublesome and fatiguing to persons of so kind and
obliging a behaviour. They, in like manner, answered
that, if their poor services had contributed anything
to her ease and recovery, they were sufficiently made
amends for all their trouble.
-
•
There was a servant in the house, whose name was
Thomas, and a lively, brisk, fresh-coloured young man,
indeed a fellow of admirable sense and good manners :
this spark was of a very amorous disposition, well
versed in intrigues, and extremely obliging in his
temper and behaviour, who, as soon as he saw Quarll's
wife, began to think of his former way of living. Now
this young fellow was born in London, of very mean
parents, whose friends not being able to give him a
trade, he was obliged to enter himself a meniber of the
ancient and honourable society of lacqueys. His first
service was to a widow gentlewoman, where he learnt
Now Tom is arrived to the very summit of his for-
tune; regaling himself in all kinds of pleasure, beloved
and trusted by his master, honoured and respected by
his fellow servants, and, in short, might be said to be
perfectly happy. But here that jilt, which so long
flattered him with her kind embraces, at one fatal blow
pushes him from the lofty precipice to the deepest sink
removes all the means whereby he ascended, and
of poverty imaginable.
This
Tom's master being a lover of variety, his curiosity
prompted him to see the diversion of a country wake,
in order to start some, fresh game; and, to that pur-
pose, disguises himself as a plain country gentleman,
and equips his man Tom in the same garb, on purpose
to make him his companion in his adventure.
place, where the wake was kept, was about ten miles
from the nobleman's seat; so each mounted his horse,
and away they rode; when being arrived at the town
nigh which they were to hunt their game, they both
alight, and put up their horses at an inni; and having
pulled off their boots, out they walk to the place of
rendezvous. As soon as they came within sight of the
place they beheld the fields prettily bespotted with
different companies, at as many different diversions.
In one place a parcel of wrestlers, cagerly contending
with broken shins for a pair of gloves; in another a
company of cudgel-players, with battered ribs, fight-
ing for a laced hat; some at one game and some at
another; but Tom and his master, who cared for
neither broken shins nor bloody brows, resolved to
seek out softer combatants.
After they had walked up and down the field, seeing
the several diversions: "Well, Tom," says the young
nobleman, "where is our diversion ?”
"O," says Tom, "we shall be with them presently.
Hark, I hear the noise of catgut, and I warrant we
will find them there." So following their ears instead
of noses, they came to a spacious dome, vulgarly called
a barn, which they no sooner entered, but Tom says
to his master, "Here, sir, here's variety for you:
here's nymphs of all sorts and sizes, and, faith, of all
complexions; they're all clean and neat, all fit for the
game: come, sir, pick and choose; which pretty
smiling rogue must be your nymph? Come, let's see
what you'll do, for I long to be at it.
1
,
(C
"Do you long to see what I'll do ?" says the noble-
man, why I intend to work miracles: I shall make
my nymph a goddess before I leave her."
Now the scene was entirely changed; the raving,
"Well, then," replied Tom, "I suppose I may take
proud, ill-natured gentlewoman became the most
the privilege to make my girl a nymph, at least.'
pleasant, sociable, and best-natured person they had
While they were thus tulking, they stood like two
ever met with; and they who just before con- hawks hovering over their prey, not knowing on which
ceived so great a dislike to her, were now so delighted to fix their fatal talons; and the rustics staring at
with her company and conversation that she was less them with open mouth and distended nostrils, not
alone than formerly, they always contriving some di- knowing what to think of them. At length Mr Scrape,
version or other to drive away her melancholy, and to by turning his mélodious battered fiddle, summons
prevent a relapse; hoping to send the welcome news all the girls to readiness, each preparing her feet for
of her perfect recovery to her husband; frequently the sport, while every Hob began to seize a partner,
pleasing her with odd country tales; showing her all and Tom and his master in the mean time (you may
the pleasures their fields, gardens, and orchards could be sure) were not idle; for offering their services to a
afford, with many other little contrivances to pass the couple of pretty, cherry-cheeked rogues, as Tom called
time away, while she endeavoured to divert them with them, the innocent girls very gladly accepted their offers,
the comical adventures of the Londoners. This she little dreaming their wicked intentions: but the mis-
endured almost a month, with all the seeming good-chief was, the nobleman had got the girl which Tom
nature imaginable; but finding herself in no way to had the most indlination to, which caused such a sé-
procure her enlargement, and rather more strictly oret envy in his breast that became the fatal cause of
guarded than formerly, she resolved to obtain her
his unfortunate disgrace.
liberty by stratagem, which she designed in the follow-
ing manner.
Now the dance was begun with great fury on both
sides, the girls romping and tearing, and the fellows
pulling and hauling, and shoving and kissing, and
tumbling like so many mad devils: while Tom and his
master, being strangers to such kind of diversion, stood
like two images, and the country fellows mocking
them, which Tom observing, and seeing his partner
very dull, thought they should never out-do him in ca-
terwauling, therefore shrugging up his shoulders, and
rubbing his eyes a little bit, he began to be as brisk as
the best. The nobleman, observing his man Tom's
alteration, thought proper to follow his example: so,
pushing down two or three girls, fell upon them, and
kissed them till they were almost stifled; then hoist-
A
ing 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 activity, jumps about a
yard high, always taking care to light upon some-
body's toes; which generally put the whole company
into a loud fit of laughter, except the person hurt, who
in compliance to the rest, was obliged to put her
mouth into a grinning posture.
Thus they became the most facetious cómpanions
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 themselves and their partners
sufficiently, began to think of retiring, in order to re-
fresh their weary limbs; and motioning the same to
their nymphs, the poor girls very willingly accom-
panied them. Now they thought themselves secure
of their intended sport, and conducted them, for that
purpose, to the inn where they had put up their
horses.
As soon as they were set down, they ordered wine
to be brought, and a supper got ready, in order to
detain and intoxicate the girls, if possible; and there-
fore they plied themselves very close with liquor.
Now Tom's partner, being a very brisk lively girl,
never refused her glass; but the nobleman's was of a
very mild, easy deportment, and would drink but little.
He seeing her temper, began to be very amorous, on
purpose to try what that would do; but she, in so
sweet and easy a manner, checked his rudeness, that
it raised in Tom a most violent passion for his master's
partner. At length supper was brought to table,
which was no sooner over but night began to appear.
The two girls, perceiving the time, desired leave to go
home, which the nobleman absolutely refused; but
Tom, thinking to make sure of his game upon the
road, consented to go with his partner, which the
other hearing, begged not be left alone, but that she
might go likewise. The nobleman (thinking he had
not brought her to the desired pitch) as heartily de-
sired her to stay, vowing that nobody should wrong or
hurt her. But when the other gentleman returned
(meaning Tom) they both would conduct her home.
So, by mere dint of argument, prevailed upon her to
Larry 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,
surrendered at discretion. So Tom rased the walls
to the ground, entered the castle, and took possession
of the city, all which being transacted, he leaves her,
promising to revisit her the next day, and bends his
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 nimble for me. Ah,
fool that I was, to lose so delicious a morsel, and take
possession of so easy a fool, who, as soon as asked,
consented; when the other, with all the pretty en-
gaging airs, so modestly checks anything that looks
like rudeness. Well, faith, since it is so, I'll make the
best on't, and try whether I can't chouse him of his
partner." So said, so resolved, and indeed so done,
For, as soon as Tom came in, the girl claimed their
promise; saying, the gentleman was so rude that she
would stay no longer; desiring them either to go
home with her, or let her go by herself. But Tom,
desirous to renew the sport, begged of her, with all
the prevailing arguments he was capable of, to tarry;
telling her he was a little tired with the walk he had
taken, and wanted to refresh himself; so desired her
to stay while he only took a glass, and he would go
with her. The girl very unwillingly complied, and sat
down again. The nobleman finding Tom had no
mind to part with her, imagined he was bringing about
what he himself had so long endeavoured 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, desiring
to be excused for this time, and he believed he could
prevail upon the other gentleman to conduct her
home. Tom, who understood his meaning, 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 exceedingly pleased with his master's
intentions, resolving to put the bite upon the biter;
and as soon as the nobleman departed, began to
attack the 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-
siring leave to go home. But Tom, acquainted with
the various turns of intrigues, resolved not to lose his
game, being well assured he should bring her to arti-
cles in a little time; and began a fresh attack, which
lasted so lon
that she was obliged to cry for quarters.
But it being too late for going home, Tom persuaded
A
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
her to lie there, assuring her that he would see her
well provided for; and so she blushingly consented.
Thus Tom, having gained his point, orders a bed to
be got ready; and then desired his mistress, who was
by this time much overcome with wine and sleep, to
go to bed. The poor girl (still between doubt and
fear) knew not what to say, but, trembling, denies
what her looks desired. And after a great many ar-
guments on both sides, she resigns herself entirely to
him. The sly knave, joyful of his prey, conducts his
mistress to bed; but, as they were going, the old crafty
innkeeper cries, in mere form-"I hope, sir, that's
your wife, for I would by no means have anything dis-
honest done in my house."-" Yes, yes," (says our
rogue), " you may assure yourself it is my wife, or
else I should not have offered to go to bed with her,"
while the poor girl, hiding her face, ran up stairs as
fast as she could.
They had not been long above, when the nobleman,
uneasy at their delay, returns to the inn, and inquires
after the couple he left. Why, sir," said the host,
<<
66
they're a-bed."
"A-bed!" says the nobleman, "a-bed !"
Yes, sir," answered he, "it being too late to go
home, they took up their lodgings here."
"What are they a-bed together?" said the gentleman.
"Yes," says the innkeeper, "I left 'em together."
The nobleman, hearing this, stood like one thunder-
struck, his eyes darting lightning, and his blood all in
flame; but, bridling his passion, very coolly inquired
where they lodged, saying he had some business of
moment to impart to the gentleman, and he must that
minute speak to him. The innkeeper, unacquainted
with his design, very complaisantly conducted him to
their apartment; and knocking at the door, told Tom
the gentleman was returned, and wanted to speak with
him. Tom, not being yet undressed, knowing his
master's fiery temper, and the just resentment, he was
sure to meet with, opens the window, and out he jumps,
without saying a word; and having bruised himself with
the fall, lay some time upon the ground; till, recovering
himself a little, he precipitately got over the garden-
wall, into which he had dropped 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 sits, reflecting 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? 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, cursed,
bewitching woman, what an infinite number of mis-
chiefs are you the source of. But why do I exclaim
against a woman so innocent and so charming, when
I, the traitorous deceiver, sought nothing but her
eternal misery? O, just Heaven! 'twas you that
saved her from impending ruin, and deservedly threw
all the fatal effects upon myself. Well, I'll bear them
patiently; load me with all the evils you can bring,
till they mount so high you can lay no more." Raving
and cursing in this manner, he tired his spirits, and
fell asleep.
Having slept some time, he awakes, wondering where
he was.
"Did I dream," says he, "or is it real? No,
it must certainly be true; I am the most wretched
mortal breathing. The very same ruin I intended the
poor innocent girl has justly fallen upon myself; and
what has become of her I know not, nor dare I to in-
quire; but I hope, as heaven has hitherto protected
her, it will likewise preserve her from the evil intents
of my master." Reflecting upon himself in this man-
ner, he walked about till daylight, not knowing what
to do nor whither to go. He was not a great way
from London, destitute of friends or acquaintance,
little or no money in his pocket, and durst not see his
pany of haymakers going to work, it being summer-
master. Despairing in this condition, he saw a com-
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, ask-
ing them whence they came, and whither they were
they came from London, and were going towards the
going, which they answered very civily, telling him
north of England. So being baulked in his expecta-
tion of coming to London along with them, he knew
not what to do; but at last resolved to go along with
them, hoping to meet something in his way to make
his journey pleasant, so tells them his resolution to
make one amongst them; but they seeing a man gen-
teelly dressed, petitioning for a poor haymaker's place,
took him to be only in jest, and told him they should
be glad of such a companion, if he spoke as he thought.
He protested to them the sincerity of his intention,
telling them his misfortunes drove him to such low cir-
cumstances. They then said they should be very glad
to serve him, and that their master would be in the
field by and bye, and he would hire hin, for he wanted
367
hands so he went with them, and tarried till the old
farmer came, who, finding a well-dressed young fellow
wanting an employment of that kind, asked him a
great many questions, which Tom answered very per-
tinently; the farmer, therefore, taking it only as a
frolic, was willing not to baulk him, and so hired him,
saying, he might go to work that very day, if he would;
but Tom, wanting a fork, told him as soon as he could
get his tools in readiness he would come. So he
hires a man to go to the next town to buy him one,
with which, as soon as bought, he falls to work very
pleasantly.
Tom went with them from place to place, conform-
ing himself to their customs in every point, being a
very merry companion, and much beloved by his fel-
lows; his present life became much pleasanter than
his former, never inquiring after his master, or country
girl, nor did he know what was become of them.
At last it fell to his lot to be hired by the farmer he
then worked for; who, secing him a tractable brisk
young fellow, asked him whether he would be his ser-
vant, for he then wanted one. Tom, after a little he-
sitation, told him he should be glad of such a master;
so struck a bargain, and hired himself for a year.
Tom had not been there much above a year, before
Quarll's wife came down thither, who, being a genteel
London madam, reminded him of his former intrigues,
and raised in him an inclination for her; but being in
so humble a station, he dared not attack the haughty
dame, till he might find a favourable opportunity;
and so took all occasions to oblige her, and was better
respected by her than any of the others, she often
say-
ing that that fellow had a certain je ne scai qnoi in him,
which at once claimed love and respect. Tom, under-
standing this, thought 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 before
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 melancholy. "Madam," says Tom,
"I am sorry I should find you melancholy; but I'll do
all I can to please you."
"Aye," says she, "if you knew the occasion of my
melancholy, you would pity me, as well as be sorry;
but you cannot be ignorant what a prisoner I am made
here, how constantly I am attended and have scarce any-
thing 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 con-
trivance of his to keep me here a close prisoner, if
possible; but I'll deceive him, for if a woman's inven-
tion can find any means to escape this cursed place, he
shall be sure to see me in London quickly, and that to
his great mortification."
The sly rogue heard her very quietly, and thought
he might now have his desired ends: so tells her she
should 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
say so; and asked him by what means he intended
to convey her thence. "O Lord!" says he,
Cs easy
enough. I'll tell you how. I'll take a ladder, and set
it against your window, and so come into your room,
and take your clothes, and everything you have a mind
to send to London, and send them to a particular ac-
quaintance of mine; then I'll come back and fetch you,
and conduct you to the next town, which is not above five
or six miles off, and stay there for the stage coach,
and so go both to London together." The gentle-
woman, willing to get her liberty at any rate, agreed to
the proposal, only desiring another day to look after
all her things, and pack them up conveniently, because
she would not hurry herself, lest they should mistrust,
and stop her journey.
Tom consented to what she said, and wished for the
approaching time; which being come, and all things in
readiness, he brings the ladder, and mounts up towards
the room, while she as readily delivers him from the
window all her baggage ready packed up; which Tom
the gentlewoman; who, overjoyed to think herself
takes and carries away, and presently returns to fetch
freed from that tiresome place, gets out of window, and
began to descend the ladder; but, being over-eager,
slipped, and down she tumbles, ladder and all; which
and not used to enterprises of that kind, her foot
Tom seeing, knew the consequence, and ran away as he
could, leaving Mrs Quarll to get up by herself, for the
ladder, in tumbling, broke the windows where the old
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
}
sorts of choice drams, as also the ensuing quarter's
money for her board, and the season rendering the
country extremely agreeable, made her patiently sub-
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..
368
farmer lay, and made a horrid noise, so that it scared
the good man out of his sleep, who got up to see what
was the matter; and perceiving the gentlewoman's
window open and a fellow running across the yard,
cries out, "Murder! Thieves thieves!"-which
alarmed the whole family, some getting pitchforks,
some pokers, some one thing, some another, in order
to scare the thieves; but the old man, with his
fowling-piece in hand, like a noble commander, led
the van, searching all his house over for thieves,
and to see what he had lost; carefully looking into
every hole and corner, not daring to advance too fast
for fear of a surprise; and coming to Mrs Quarll's
room, whose window he had seen open, calls to her a
long time, but hearing no answer, fancied she was mur-
dered, and therefore breaks open the door and searches
the room; but there was no Mrs Quarll to be found.
They stared one at another, not knowing what to think.
However, when they had examined all the house, they
boldly sallied into the yard to hunt the thieves there;
and, looking about, they perceived something under
the ladder, which looked like women's clothes; so;
taking it up, they pulled from under it a real woman,
something like Mrs Quarll; and, looking more nar-
rowly, perceived it to be the very same individual per-
son, almost dead with the fright and the bruises she
had received.
And now their greatest wonder was, how she came
thither. The old man said he believed that some
thieves had gotten into the house, and, to prevent her
crying, had stopped her mouth, and thrown her out of
the window. But," says another wiseacre, "how
came she to have her clothes on? I am sure she
ought to have been a bed. Now," adds he, "I bc-
lieve the devil tempted her to throw herself out of the
window; and that must certainly be him you saw run
across the yard so swiftly." Thus they disputed a
long time, but at last agreed that she ought to be car-
ried 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. I
After all was finished, the old man, willing to know
what quantity of men he had lost, calls a general mus-
ter, 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 sweet-
hearting. "A sweethearting!" says the old fellow;
"well, let him be there always, for he shall never come
hither again. How do I know but he has sent the
thieves to rob me, or that he is not one of them him-
self? If he ever comes hither I'll turn him about his
business as soon as I see him." But Tom understood
better things than to come thither again: for he knew
the adventure would be blown, and then he should
be certainly discarded with disgrace; so was resolved
to make the best of what he had got; went away, and
was never heard of again.
Mrs Quarll, as soon as she came to her speech, con-
fesses the whole intrigue, and lays the blame upon her
husband; saying he sent her thither to be murdered;
and now he had his desired end, only that she was the
unhappy cause of her own death. The old man, as
soon as he knew the matter perfectly, writes to her
husband a full account of the whole story; telling him
he was in a fair way to lose his wife, and that, if it
should so happen, he had no occasion to send for his
wife's clothes, for she had before lost them, and he
tells him by what means. Quarll, as soon as he had
the letter, was very much troubled at his wife's folly,
but resolved, if she recovered, she should tarry some
time without clothes, which he knew would be punish-
ment enough to her pride: so he writes back to them
that they should take all possible care to restore her
to health, and likewise to prevent anything of that
kind for the future; telling them that in a little time.
he would send her some clothes, and make them
amends for their trouble.
Mrs Quarll, in about a month, began to be upon the
mending hand, which her husband being informed of,
resolved to make her stay another month without
clothes, which he knew would be a greater punish-
ment than the other month of sickness. But here he
was mistaken, for it was almost three months before
she perfectly recovered; who finding that, before that
time, her husband had sent her some new clothes, was,
in a great measure, reconciled to him; and resolved,
during her stay there, to be much more easy in her
mind than before.
The good people, whom she had often scared with
her outrageous passion, were very glad to see her so
calm, and took that opportunity to represent to her the
happiness of her condition; being well attended, and
as well provided with all necessaries, free from that
subjection she might be under if with her husband,
whose cross and ill humours she would be obliged to
bear with; besides twenty other vexations incumbent
to a married life, from which she was screened by his
being from her.
The old woman's wise remonstrances being backed
with the sudden arrival of a fresh supply of several
But Quarll, who, ever since her being in the country,
had enjoyed the uncontrolled pleasuros of a single life,
having no mind to interrupt them by her presence,
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.
But surly Fate, who was ever averse to his happi-
ness, suggests a new interruption thereto... Quarll,
having given over housekeeping, happened to come and
live at a mantua-maker's of vast business, and reputed
worth money. She was a single woman, pretty hand-
some, but intolerably proud and conceited; which was
the cause of her being still unmarried, thinking her-
self too good for any tradesman, or anything below a
gentleman; which seeing no prospect to get, being
courted by none, she became a general man-hater;
but Quarll, who was a handsome young man and of a
genteel employment, though not a gentleman, coming
to lodge at her house, reconciled her to the sex in a
little time, and made her change her resolution never
to marry, heartily wishing he would court her; there-
fore, by her more than common attendance for a lod-
ger, did all she could to give him invitation, but all to
little success; for Quarll, who had been already twice
incumbered in the troublesome state of matrimony,
and but lately rid of his last plague, had no mind to
venture any more, so did not answer her expectation;
but her love increasing daily without being taken no-
tice of, she was obliged to declare it to an old gentle-
woman, who lodged in the next room to him, who,
having doubtless been in the same condition, was, by
experience, capable to give her advice.
4.
The old gentlewoman (as it is peculiar to tnem when
past the sport themselves, to love to promote it in
others) took upon her the management of that affair;
and from that time watched the opportunity of speak
ing to him, which was only in the morning before he
went out, or at night when he came home, being
abroad all the day beside; so having resolved
upon it, the next morning she leaves her own door
open, which was opposite to his, waiting his coming
out, to invite him to a dish of chocolate, which she
had ready for that purpose.
Having, according to her desire, got him into her
chamber, as he was drinking his dish, she feigns a fit
of laughing. "You wonder," said she, "what 'tis I
laugh at; but I dare say you'll laugh as well as I,
when you know; why, our man-hater is in love at
last; in love up to her ears, as sure as you are alive!"
"Our man-hater, madam!" says he; "who is
་
that?"
"Don't you know?" replied she; "why, our land-
lady, who has refused so many fine offers. Lord, how
happily might that woman have married! She might
have rode in her coach years ago; but no man was
good enough for madam; this had such a fault, and
that another; in short, none could please her. 'Tis
'Tis
true, indeed, she is very deserving; the worst part of
her is in the sight, and that you know is not disagree-
able; but did you see what a fine body she has, you
would be ready to run mad for her; surely she has.
the finest leg and foot that ever woman went on;
and, for a skin, she may challenge the whole sex; in
short, she is fit for a king's embraces. She has several
good properties besides; and one above all, which
perhaps you'll say is the principal; she has money,
and a great deal; well, that will be soon disposed of,
I dare say; I wish I knew on whom; sure it must be
some angel, for I have heard her find fault with very
handsome men that have addressed to her. Pray,
did you ever observe any man to come here? He
must be the person, for all her concerns are with
">
women.
"6
Indeed," replied Quarll, "I never take notice who
comes; besides, I am seldom at home, so have not an
opportunity to make observations."
"But I have," said she," and made it my business
to mind, yet never saw any man in this house since I
came but you; suppose you should be he at last ?”
"Oh madam, there is no danger," answered
Quarll; "she, who has refused so many rich matches,
will hardly set her mind on a poor singing-master."
*
"How do you know that?" replied the old lady;
"love comes by fancy, and marriage by fate, and it
may be yours to have her, so I would have you culti-
vate her love, which I could almost swear you pos-
sess; you will find it worth your while; here is an
agreeable woman in an extraordinarily good business,
a house well furnished, and, I'll warrant, money-bags
well filled; now, if you are disposed to make your for-
tune, here is a fair opportunity." Quarll was sadly
puzzled what answer to make. His present circum-
stances prompt him to soothe what his condition
obliges him to deny; his business slackens, and his
charges nowise lessen; his income is dubicus and
expenses certain the most prevailing arguments to
C
f
embrace the offer. But then a strong obstacle starts
up-a wife; but she is out of the way, and as good as
dead, whilst her living is paid for, which this proposed
marriage will enable him to do, though other business
failed. That objection being removed, his answer
was, he feared that happiness would be above his as❤ -
piring to; which being according to the mediatress's
wish, she promised him Her assistance. So he took
his leave and went about his daily affairs, leaving thơ
management of that to her, who immediately went to
inform the amorous landlady of her success.
;
Quarll being returned at night, the old lady, pursu
ant to the business she had taken in hand, follows him
to his chamber, with the joyful news that she had, by
would have concealed; that he was the man beloved,
her landlady's blushing, discovered what her modesty
and, therefore, she would not have him delay his being
made happy. To which he answered, as she had been
the first cause of his happiness, he left the accomplish-
ment thereof to her direction. " Well, then," said she,
"if I have the ordering of it, it shall be done next
Sunday, as being, of all the week, the most blessed
day," and so bid him good night.
•
·
I
.
ad
•
A
1'*
The old gentlewoman, being made sole directress of
that affair, was very diligent in the accomplishment
thereof, so had them married on the day she had pro- -
posed. The business was done privately, but the joy
it produced could not be concealed, everybody read
bride in the new-married wife's face, so that greetings
daily filled the house, which, for a month, was a resi
dence for mirth, and, during the space of a year, the ✅
seat of happiness; peace kept the door, and plenty
attended them. But churlishi fate, which ever perse…:
cuted him, would not permit that happy state to con-
tinue; and, the more to aggravate his loss, makes
love, the chief author of his bliss, now the principal
instrument of his sorrow, jealousy, the greatest plagues
that can befal a married life, infects his wife. She is
upon thorns whilst he is absent, and uncasy when pre--
sent, with the fears of what he had done abroad B
discontented mind often urges the utterance of vexas
tious words, and breeds jarrings, enemies to peace;
which, being often disturbed, leaves her abode, which
is immediately taken up by strife, and is commonly
attended with ruin, the decreed influence of poor
Quarll's surly fate. Business falling off from both their
hands, makes them negligent of the little they have;
the husband diverts his cares abroad, whilst the wife
drinks away her sorrow at home.
her sorrow at home. Thus money-grow-
ing scant, credit must be pledged, which, being not
redeemed, exposes the owner to disgrace, which is
commonly the poor man's lot.
:
سمجھو
4
✓
CAPITA
•
ཋཱ-
The mercer and silkman with whom his wife dealt
before she was married, having received money but
once since her marriage, and seeing her discontent,
imagined her husband (who appeared something too
airy for one of her sedate years) was the occasion
thereof, by his extravagant spending what she, with
much care and frugality, had saved, arrested him,
without giving him notice, lest, being warned, he
should get away what she might have left, and then
abscond.
-t
the guards, where he continued to screen him from
Quarll, who till then had kept secret his being in
those debts his eloped wife might contract, is now
obliged to let it be known, to keep himself out of
gaol.
His proud wife, who thought men of the best and
genteelest trades inferior to her merits, seeing her-
self at last married to one whose station was looked
upon to be as odious as that of a common bailiff,
fell into such a passion that it cast her into a violent
fit, from which being recovered, she flies out of the
house in a great fury, swearing by all that was good
she would no more live with a foot-soldier, so left him
in a sad confusion; yet he stayed in the house,
hoping she would, when cooler, consider of it, and be
reconciled.
**
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 entirely
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 him in good earnest,
indulges himself with the thoughts of being a third
time delivered from the greatest incumbrance that
can involve a man, wondering how he could so often
fall into the same snare. Three wives," said he,
י
N
·
"
"
↓
-
in three years! and every one equal plagues, though
of a different nature! The first a whore, of whom I
was most luckily rid by accident; the second a proud,
lazy, indolent creature, she by stratagem is secured;
and the third a conceited; jealous wretch, to her
ostentation I owe my deliverance. Well, now I am
once more free, I'll take care how I hamper myself
again." So he makes a strong resolution, let what
would happen, to live single from that time ever
after.
4
*:
1 Aise
38
But his resolution, though ever so strong, cannot
avert fato's irrevocable decree: a fourth wife is allotted
nim, which will bring upon him more vexation and
trouble than he has yet gone through; his peace will
not only be broken, and his ease disturbed, but his life
must be in jeopardy.
One evening that he was diverting his colonel and
the rest of his club with singing at the tavern, as he
usually did once a week, the landlady (who was then
in company) much praised his voice and skill. The
gentlemen took that opportunity to propose a match
between Quarll (who went for a bachelor) and her,
being a widow: all the company liked the proposal,
and carnestly urged on the match.
Quarll, being a brisk, handsome, genteel young man,
which qualifications have a vast ascendant upon the
sex, especially on widows, inade a considerable im-
pression upon the hostess, who, being already above
forty, was willing to intermix her supernumerary 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 jóking manner, that Mr Quarll had doubtless before
that time made a better choice; so would hardly agree
to their proposal. "A better choice," said the gentle-
men, "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."
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 con-
siderable advantage, having blanched over those great
obstacles his présent low circumstances and elevated
condition made him overlook, he did all he could to
forward what had been proposed: so having, according
to request, given the landlady a love song, he goes and
salutes her with a hearty kiss; who, smiling, asked him
whether he thought she was to be purchased with a
song? to which he replied, the song was only to ex-
press the thoughts of his heart, 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 answer
them kindly."
44
Indeed, gentlemen," said she, “I can say no more,
but that they are mighty pretty words and charmingly
sung."
"Well, then," replied the colonel, "I'll say the rest
for you. The lover having expressed his passion in so
soft terms and engaging a way, you cannot, without
doing violence to your good nature, deny him what he
requests in so melting a manner; nor shall: I say the
word;" which was confirmed by all the company. To
which she making no answer, it was taken for granted.
So the marriage being concluded on, the next day was
fixed upon for the performance thereof; being resolved
not to adjourn till it was over, they bespoke a splendid
supper, and so spent the night merrily.
The wedding was. kept all the week, during which
time every gentleman was profuse in his expenses, as
an encouragement to the new-married couple, whose
trade increased daily.
Their prosperous beginning seemed to promise a
happy life, living in love and peace at home, and being
in, good repute and credit abroad; but the same fate
which all along haunted poor Quarll is still at his
heels; his bliss was but a blast. His eloped wife un-
fortunately happened to go by as he was going out.
She had him immediately in her eye, which as
speedily conveyed him to her heart. The addition
which a charming new suit of clothes he then had on
made to his natural handsomeness put out of her mind
the cause of that disdain she had conceived for him,
and turns it into a more passionate love than ever.
She cannot live any longer from him; she must have
him with her at any rate, and will not rest till she
finds out his lodgings; 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 in her some sort of disorder,
was very inquisitive to know her business; in which
the poor woman refusing to satisfy her, she told her
that he lived there, and that she was his wife; and
therefore the fittest to know her concern. At these
most dreadful words she falls, like one thunderstruck,
on the ground, deprived of all her senses; and, for a
considerable 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 sign of love, which a harlot is not
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
19
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 her
some in a glass of water, which in a small time fetched
her a little to life; who, recovering, cried out" Had
I not been so bewitched as to go from him, he would
not have left me." These words in a moment turned
the officious condoler into a revengeful rival, who im-
mediately imagined she had lately lived with him as a
mistress, and, doubtless, would endeavour to do the
same again. So giving her hand (which she kindly
held before) a scornful toss from her, "Why, you vile
woman," said she, "would you have him to live for
ever in whoredom ?"-" You judge me wrong, madam,"
replied the poor afflicted woman; "I am his lawful
wife."
So produces her certificate (which she hap-
pened 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 sur-
prise had obstructed, she asked her, in a violent pas-
sion, why she had been so base as to give him the
opportunity 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. How-
ever, since 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!” replied she in a passion, "but he shall find,
and so shall you, that I have to do with him," and so
went away.
It being then about noon, his usual time to come
home from market, she went into a public house
opposite to the tavern, there to wait his return, which
was a little after. As soon as she saw him she gave
him a call over.
The sudden and unexpected sight of the only
obstacle to the happiness he then enjoyed was most
He wished he had met with
terribly shocking to him.
death to have missed her; but to no purpose;
she had
him in her eye, and was fully resolved to have him in
her arms ere she went; and as he did not come as
quick at her call as her impatience required, she at-
tempted to go over to him; but Quarll, who knew her
fiery temper, was afraid she should break out in a pas-
sion in the street; which would have exposed him,
and brought it to his new wife's knowledge, being near
home so he hastens over to the house she was in
to prevent her coming; and judging his beginning to
upbraid her with her elopement would, in some
measure, moderate her railing at him, he tells her, as
he enters the room, "I hope, madam, you have, by
this time, found a man more to your mind." This was
sufficient to provoke a milder temper to reproach him
with his adulterous marriage, of which she was too
certain; hers is but a fault, but his a crime.
But as
reproaches are not proper means to advance a recon-
ciliation, which was her intent, she bridles her passion,
and forces her nature to a submission; so throws her-
self at his feet, and falls a-weeping; owning she had
committed a fault for which she heartily repented, and
promised to atone by her future behaviour; calling
Heaven to witness her chastity during her most un-
happy separation.
Quarll, being of a compassionate temper, was soon
made flexible by her tears; so takes her up by the
hand, who as soon fell into his arms, incapable of speak-
ing for weeping; but Quarll, who was in haste to be
gone, being waited for at home, it being about his time
of dinner, complied with the poor afflicted woman's
crying and sobbing, whose chief request was that he
would only see her home that time; which he pre-
sently granted to be quit of her, so ordered a coach to
be called.
His new wife, at home, being uneasy at his staying
beyond his time, came to the door to look whether she
could see him come. At that most unlucky time he
was handing his other wife into the coach, which she
unfortunately spying, ran over as swift as a hawk flies
after his prey, and pulls him back by the lappet of his
coat as he was stepping in after her. The disorder
this second surprise put him in obliged him to go again
into the house he just came out of, where she followed
him, raving and railing as much as the provocation and
her passion did allow, leaving in the coach his former
wife, who, by that second terrible surprise, was again
struck speechless, and like one bereft of sense.
The coachman having waited some time, being impa-
tient, calls in the house, desiring the gentleman to
make haste, or else to allow him for waiting; at which
the new wife comes out in a violent passion, and bids
him begone, for he was not wanted.
"What shall I do with the gentlewoman in my
coach?" said he; "you had best take care of her,
she is not well, or tell me where I shall carry her."
[ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY-No. 102.]
369
Carry her to the devil, an' you will,” said she, and
so went in.
"You may carry her thero," replied the surly coach-
man, "you best know the way." So goes to the coach
and shakes her till she comes to herself, then taking her
up in his arms, "I am bid to carry you to the devil,"
said he, “but I believe you are able to go yourself, so I
will set you down here that you may take your own
time.”
Having set her down he then drives away.
There being a milliner's shop just by she goes in, de-
siring leave to sit awhile, till she was able to go. She
had scarce been there three minutes but she sees her
husband handing his new wife over very complaisantly,
which so exasperated her that she fully resolved upon
revenge, choosing he should be hanged, rather than
her rival should enjoy him; so went directly and took
out a warrant, which she immediately served, and had
him before a justice of the peace, who committed him
forthwith to Newgate.
46
•
The following sessions happening to be extraordi-
narily great by the vast number of criminals, his trial
and several more were put off until 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 any acquaintance in that affair, lest they should
inquire into the occasion of his sending that money, he
desired one who often came to visit a prisoner to do him
that favour, which he readily promised, but did not per-
form; so that the people in the country, who were
used to be paid a quarter before-hand, were a quarter
in arrear, which, with the boarder's pressing impor-
tunity to come up to London, made them at last resolve
upon it, where, being arrived, they immediately in-
quired after the unfortunate Quarll, whose imprison-
ment they soon heard of, as also of the cause thereof.
This did not a little exasperate the already sufficiently
provoked inquisitress, who, presently imagining, with
good reason, that his confining her in the country was
merely for that intent, resolved to prosecute him with
the utmost rigour of the law, wondering who that good
person was that had him apprehended; so she went and
consulted her friends, who advised her not to let her
husband know of her being in town till his trial came
on and then she would know the prosecutor, and,
at her own discretion, back the prosecution.
In the meantime his first wife, who had lately been
dismissed (the knight who kept her being not long
since married to a vast fortune), having heard of
Quarll's being in Newgate, went straight to visit him.
Her grief and his surprise at her coming stopped, for
some time, the utterance of both their minds; at last,
Quarll, who had just reason to tax her as the author
of his present misfortune, reproached her with leaving
him, which was the original cause thereof. The inno-
cent, yet guilty Sally, whose inclination, disposition,
and resolution had been violated, related 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 side.
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 till night;
the court, more concerned than if she herself had been
and when he was called upon his trial, she attended in
arraigned.
The sessions being commenced, he was first called
to the bar; his indictment being read, he desired to
be heard by his counsel, which was granted. The de-
ponent having proved her marriage, required the pri-
soner at the bar should be obliged to live with her, or
allow her a sufficient maintenance, as being his first
wife, at which she whom he kept in the country starts
up, "That belongs to me," said she, "I am the first
wife;" so produces her certificate.
A third wife ap-
pearing, startles both the judges and the prisoner,
who thought her secure.
Sally, who till then had been silent, seeing the
priority of marriage so much pleaded for, thought it
might be worth her while to claim it, being her right,
which she may chance to turn to the prisoner's ad-
vantage, so addressing the bench, "My lords," said
she, "I did not think to apply for justice, but secing
these women contending for that which belongs to
neither of them, I think myself obliged to claim my
right: I am the first wife, an' please your lordships."
*
How! a fourth wife, and indicted but for two!"
said the judges, in a great surprise.
66
Why, my lords," replied an old surly judge upon
the bench, "if truth be known, he has half a score;
see it in his looks: these smock-faced young fellows
are so admired by the women that they have not the
power to refuse anything." Sally, who thought to do
the prisoner service in taking the privilege of first wife
into her own hands, finding the success of her good
intent quite reversed, heartily repented appearing, and
would have withdrawn; but the judges told her she was
now become the prosecutrix, and was obliged to go
370
on in the prosecution. This caused such a dis-
order in her, who imagined she should be the unfor-
tunate occasion of his being cast, that she was ready
to swoon. Quarll's counsel, perceiving her disorder,
imagined it might proceed from a regret of the mis-
chief she had done; so put her in a way to invalidate
her deposition. Now, madam," said the counsel, "I
very much question whether you can make your as-
sertion good; pray produce your certificate, you can
do us no hurt else." Sally, overjoyed to hear that,
said she had none, choosing to undergo the greatest
disgrace, rather than he should come to the least
hurt.
(6
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
"My lord," said the prisoner, "I beg this letter, |
which she sent me a week after she was there, may
be read, and then your lordships may judge whether
I do her wrong."
*-
"I thought as much," said the counsel.
"Well, well," replied the surly judge,
"she may
have lost it. Where was you married, child ?"
"At Chatham, my lord, I think," answered she,
very much discountenanced.
66
"At Chatham did you say?" replied the counsel.
I doubt yours has been a sailor's wedding, over a
pot of drink; a man's wife till the next voyage, and
anybody's when he is gone. Your lordship sees how
this case stands.'
"Yes, yes," answered a judge; "if she is 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 pretender,
"I hope,"
says he, "yours will not prove a sailor'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? 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 decoyed 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 since, charging the people
of the house not to suffer me to come up to London,
nor yet to go out; pretending I was mad, because I
complained I was not well."
"A very pretty device," replied the old judge.
"Yes, my lord," cried out all the women in the
court (who were come in great numbers to hear a trial
about a rape committed by a Quaker upon a maid of
fifty years of age), "and a very bad precedent, if not
severely punished. Should this be suffered, a poor
wife will not dare to be out of order or complain, in
hopes to be made much of, for fear her husband,
under colour of giving her the pleasure of the country
air, shall, when he has got her there, confine her, and
so marry whom he pleases at London.”
The judges, to quell their clamour, were obliged
to call to them, and promise them it should be no
precedent; and that they might be sick at will,
and groan at their pleasure, and also accept of their
husbands' kindnesses when offered.
The court being silenced, the proceedings went on,
and several of the judges having been spoken to by
some of Quarll's particular friends, who were re-
lated to some of them. they were more favourable
in their judgment, all but the o.d suriy judge, with
whom no interest had been made.
The three wives then present having proved their
marriage, the prisoner at the bar was asked what he
had to say in his own defence.
66
Quarll, who thought his wife in the country was se-
cure from coming against him, not having given his
counsel instructions concerning her, was obliged to
plead himself. My lords," said he, "the first de-
ponent against me being run mad, and therefore unfit
for human society, I was obliged to think of some re-
tirement for her, as it is necessary for people. in her
case."-" Unfit for human society !" replied the se-
cond wife, in a geat fury, and was going on in the same
temper, but was bid to be silent, and he to proceed.
"So, my lords," said he, "I proposed the country, as
the most pleasant and wholesome place, as also that
which suited her indisposition best, being always am-
bitious to imitate the quality, who commonly go into
the country in summer, which made her accept the
offer. There, my lords, I boarded her with very honest
sufficient people, in a handsome, creditable, and plea-
sant house.”
*
(6
"A pleasant house!" replied she, "a perfect hovel."
There, my lords, I provided her everything she
could want or desire, as her landlady here present can
testify." His counsel, who, by what he had said, had
taken sufficient hints to proceed, took the plea out of
his hand, and went on: "An't please your lordship,"
said he, “since by her madness "-"My madness !"
said she, interrupting the counsel.
"I desire, my
lords, this good woman, with whom I have lived many
years, may be sworn, whether she, in all that time, did
see or discern the least symptoms of madness in me.
"Indeed," replied the old woman, "I have often
"I have often
seen you in the vapours, but I cannot say I ever saw
you what they say raving mad but once."
"}
$
"s
Orders being given from the bench, the letter was
read. The old woman hearing her house so despised,
where a well-bred dog would run mad if kept in,
and then her husband and herself compared to oxen
and cows, was not a little displeased. My house,
madam," said the old woman, "is not so despicable
neither as that comes to; I'm sure there's hardly a
better or more convenient within ten miles round it.
As for the room you lay in, no gentlewoman, in her
right senses, but would be contented with, especially
in the country. I must be obliged to side with your
husband there; and for my husband and me to be
reckoned no better than brutes, you have little reason
to say so, for no woman can be used with more hu-
manity than you have been; and as for your being
confined, you never were shut up anywhere, but al-
ways had the liberty of walking about our ground;
only, indeed, I would not consent you should trudge
to London, as you often did offer to do." The old
woman having done speaking, Quarll's counsel put it
to the bench whether the prosecutrix ought to be ac-
counted in her right senses. The judges having given
their opinion that she was frantic, the old judge being
displeased at their answer, asked them whether a man
or woman's being frantic (which but few in this town
are more or less) does empower either to marry again;
and if they will allow that, why did he marry a
third? The second is not mad."
"The second," replied the counsel, "eloped, my
lord, and was from her husband half a year; and 'tis to
be questioned whether she would ever have come near
him, had she not accidentally found this opportunity
to trouble him.
""Tis a plain case, my lord," said another judge,
"the prisoner is guilty of the crime he stands indicted
for, yet I don't 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; besides, my lord, we
don't hear that he did cohabit or correspond with
more than one at a time, and never sought a supply
till he was destitute. In my opinion, my lord, he may
be favoured a little." The ill-natured judge told them,
very surlily, 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
(Charles the Second) would graciously be pleased to
show it him, and it was entirely out of his own power;
so sums up the evidence, and refers it to the jury.
The jury went out accordingly; and, after having
stayed some time, brought in their verdict-" Death."
Sally, who was just by, no sooner heard the terrible
news but she fainted away, and was obliged to be car-
ried out of court. The three wives likewise went away,
upbraiding and reproaching one another with being
the fatal cause of losing their busband, wishing one
another never to be relieved by man, and so parted.
But Sally, as soon as recovered, went back to the
prisoner again, and stayed with him till the court broke
up, and then was allowed a coach to carry him to
Newgate, and attended him there all that night.
As soon as the keepers came in the morning, he
calls for pen, ink, and paper, which were brought him,
and wrote the following letter to his colonel:-
"May it please your Honour,
"I am now under the terrible sentence of condem-
nation; I need not tell you upon what account, my
case being too well known to the world already;
but as you have bestowed so many particular fa-
vours upon me hitherto, this emboldens me once
more, in this my extreme necessity, to rely upon your
goodness. It is true, my merit cannot lay claim to
the least mark of your esteem, but it is your genero-
sity prompts me to beg my life at your hands, which,
if you preserve, shall always be devoted to your ser-
vice by your unfortunate humble servant,
"PHILIP QUARLL."
As soon as he had finished, he delivers it to his
dear-beloved Sally, and desires her to carry the same
to his colonel, Sally, joyful to serve him, takes the
letter, and away she flies. Being come to the housė,
she delivers the letter to the colonel, who, having
having
opened and read it, told her that she might assure
him he would do all that lay in his power to serve
him; so Sally, expressing her gratitude, retirea to
carry the news to her husband. When she came to
the prison, she found him reading very seriously,
leaning upon his hand, with tears in his eyes; she
stood some time to look at him, but finding he never
stirred his 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 awoke
from a dream, and then burst 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,” said
he, "can you bring a man under my wretched cir-
cumstances? Can anything elevate the mind whom
Heaven itself has contrived to depress?, Am not I
the very outcast and scorn of Providence? Have
not I been unfortunate from my infancy? And why
will you still add to my misery? 'Tis you that now
make me wretched; had you not so compassionately
assisted me in this my dismal calamity with so much ten-
derness, 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? 'Tis
that adds to my uneasiness. Oh, that I had not seen
you in these my last moments" Sally, interrupting
him, said,-
+
Ang
"Come, talk not of last moments, you may yet
enjoy many happy years; your colonel has promised
to use his utmost endeavours to preserve your life."
"I don't flatter myself with anything of that kind,"
says he, “but if such a thing should happen, I am fully
resolved not to tarry long in England, which has
brought upon me so many dire mishaps."
The colonel was as good as his word, for he loved
Quarll extremely well; and therefore, as soon as Sally
was gone, he orders his coach to be got ready, and
away he posts to my Lord Danby, who had a great
influence at court at that time, and who was his par-
ticular friend. When he came thither his lordship was
not stirring, so he waited till he got up; who, as soon
as come down, cries out, "So, colonel, what brings you
here so soon? Did you come to breakfast with me?
The colonel seeing him so facetious and pleasant, told
him his message. My lord, as soon as he heard it, an-
swered, "That upon his honour he certainly 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. Quartl
fell at his feet, and expressed 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 meantime, was not idle; for she went
and bought a rich piece of plate, and presented it to
the Recorder, that he might favour Quarll in his re-
port to his Majesty, which had the desired effect; for
when the death warrant came down he was excluded;
and in a few days after my Lord Danby procured his
Majesty's most gracious pardon, which his colonel
brought him with great joy.
Quarll being discharged out of Newgate, resolved
not to tarry long in England, and told his beloved
Sally that he must now leave her, for he had made a
vow not to tarry in Britain. She endeavoured to die-
suade him from his intentions; but finding it to no
purpose, desired she might accompany him. He asked
her why she desired to be wretched, telling her he was
doomed to perpetual misery; but she was resolutely
bent to follow him wherever he went, and accordingly
sold what the knight had settled upon her, in order to
carry the money with her.
Quarll, hearing of a ship bound for the South Seas;
which in her return was to touch at Barbadoes, the cap-
tain of her having been first mate of the ship to which
Quarll had formerly belonged, this encouraged him to
venture the voyage: Accordingly, he went to the
commander, in order to agree with him about it. The
captain, after some talk, began to call to mind their
former acquaintance; but wondered to see him so
much altered as to his condition; Quarll being very
handsomely dressed, and his behaviour much better
polished than formerly: so desired him to give him an
account how this strange alteration had happened, and
by what means he came to this good fortune.
"Good fortune do you call it?" says Quarll. "I
suppose, then, you look upon men by their outward ap-
pearance; but did you know the world as well as I do,
you would judge the contrary. Now," adds he, "I'll
give you a short account of my past life, and then
I'll leave you to say whether I am not rather thé per-
fect scorn and mock of fortune:" so related to him
his past
his past misfortunes, which Quarll told him in so
moving a manner, that it almiöst drew tears from the
captain's eyes. As soon as he had made an end,
"Well," says the captain, "I thought that my way of
living brought upon me more troubles than landsmen
are subject to, för since I saw you I have been ship-
wrecked twice-once on the coast of Guinea, where I
lost the ship and cargo, and but five men saved, the
other time homeward bound from the East Indies, a
violent storm arose and drove us upon the coast of
France, where, with great difficulty, we cast anchor,
in order to refit our ship, which was very much
damaged in the late storm. But about twelve o'clock
the same night we came thither, a most violent hurri-
cane blew in upon us, broke our cables, and drově us
ashore, where again I lost the ship and cargo, but all
the men saved. Thus I think I have been unfortu
nate, but since they are past never think of them: we
shall have a pleasant voyage; and as you say you
have a mind to reside at Barbadoes, where I must
touch in my return, I'd have you lay out your money
in the woollen manufacture and cutlery-ware, which
are very good commodities in those parts." Quarll
thanked him for his advice, and parted with him.
Away then he goes to Sally, and told her what he
had been doing, and whither he intended to go. Sally
answered what was his pleasure should be hers, and
that she would be a partner in his fortunes or misfor.
tunes, go whither he would: So Quarll went and
bought the goods which the captain advised him to,
and sent them on board, and soon after followed with
himself and wife.
·
They had not been long at sea before his darling
Sally fell sick and died, to his inexpressible grief,
wishing ten thousand times he had died with her. He
began to be extrémely melancholy, took no rest, and
would eat no victuals. The captain was afraid that
he would die also, and did all he could to divert him;
but was a long time before he could bring him to his
former temper.
They sailed on with a side-wind for the space of a
month; though it changing full in their teeth, and
very high withal, obliged them to cast anchor, in order
to lie by till the wind should serve; but seeing them-
selves made upon by a pirate, they were obliged to
weigh their anchor, and make the best of their way
before the wind, in order to avoid being taken by those
infidels, who pursued them from four of the clock on
Friday morning till ten at night the following Sunday;
at which time there arose a stórm; 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 top sails and furled their main sail; the sea ran
very short, and broke in upon their deck; however,
they put right before the wind, and sailed so for three
weeks, when they made Cape Horn, They had no
sooner got round the cape, but the wind veered to the
south, and it fell flat calm, which continued for two
days, when the wind sprung up at south-west, and
they scudded before the wind very swiftly, 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 several sorts, some
seals and sea-fowls. Here they refreshed themselves
for four days, and then weighed atichor, the wind
being fair at full south; and traded at several ports
on the coast of Peru, Chili, aud Mexico. From
Port Aquapulco they sailed, having a fresh breeze
at N.N.E. They had Abt sailed above one day be-
fore the wind veered to the south-west, and blew a
violent gale; 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 perceived themselves near some
rocks. The storm rather increasing, and it growing
dark, they despaired of saying the ship; and as the
main-yard could not lower, the ship's tackling being
disordered by the violence of the storm, Quaril being
bold and active, took a hatchet which tumbled about the
deck, and ran up the shrouds in order to cut down what
stopped the working of the main-yard; but by the
time he was got up there came a sea which dashed
'the ship to shatters against the rock, and with the
violénéé of the chơck flưng Quarit; who was astride
upon the main-yard, on the top of the rock, where,
having the good fortune to fall in a cliff, he was hin-
dered from being washed back agaiti into the sea and
'drowned, as everybody was that belonged to the ship:
Quarll, in a' dismal condition, remained the succeed.
ing night in the cliff, being continually beaten with
the dashing back of the sea, and being both bruised
and numbed, pulled off his clothes, which were drop
ping wet, and spread them in the sun; and being over-
fatigued; laid himself down on the smoothest place of
the rock he could find, being quite spent with the
hurdships he had undergone, and slept while his
clothes were drying
1
His sleep, though very profound, was not refreshing
The danger he had been lately in so ran in his mind
that grim death was ever before his eyes, which con-
stantly disturbed his rest; but nature, who wanted
repose, would be supplied, though it be broken. |
Having slept a few hours, He awakes almost as much
fatigued as before, and faint for want of nourishment,
having tákén norie for thirty-six hours before; so
having looked upon his olathes, which he perceived
Were not quite dry, he turned the other side to the
'sub, arti laid himself down to sleep again; but still
nothing but horror entered his mind; his soul was con-
tinually harassed with the dismal apprehensions the
effects of the late storm had impressed upon him. He
dreamt he was in a terrible tempest, and the ship he
was in dashed backwards and forwards through the
waves with prodigious violence, the clouds pouring
down vast streams of liquid fire, and the raging ocean
"
·
1
J
·
+
M
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
all in flames, In this dismal condition he knew not
what to do; but, spying some land, as he thought, at
a little distance from the ship, he was endeavouring to
get thither; but not daring to trust the sea, which he
imagined was like a cauldron 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 mon-
ster, with glaring eyes and open mouth, rush from the
boiling flames, and make at him to devour him; which
scared him out of his sleep.
When he awoke, he was very much terrified with
his dream, and stared about him in a frighted manner,
expecting every minute some creature to devour him:
but, taking a little courage, put on his clothes, which
by this time were quite dry. He then looks about
him; but, alas! could see nothing but the dreadful
effects of the late tempest dead corpses, broken
planks, and battered chests floating, and such aspects
which at once filled him with terror and grief.
Turning from those shocking objects, which pre-
sented to his eyes the dreadful death he so lately had
escaped, he sees at the other side the prospect of one
more terrible, hunger and thirst, attended with all the
miseries than can make life burthensome. Being seized
with the terror of the threatening evil, he turns again
towards the sea, and looking on the dead corpses which
the sea now and then drove to the rock and back
again, "Oh, that I was like one of you!" said he,
66
past all dangers! I have shared with you in the ter-
rors of death; why did I not also partake with you
in its relief? But why should I complain, who have
so much reason to be thankful? Had I been cut off
when the cares of saving this worthless carcass inter-
cepted me from 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 inside, bearing both trees and
grass. "Heaven be praised!" said he, "I shall not
perish upon these barren rocks;" so made a shift to go
down to it, the weather then being calm.
BOOK III.
AN ACCOUNT of quarll'S WONDERFUL SHIFTS AND SUR-
PRISING MANNER OF LIVING;
THE MIRACULOUS
ACTS OF Providence, AND OF THE STRANGE EVENTS
WHICH HAPPENED IN THE ISLAND SINCE HIS BEING
THERE.
:
BEING Come to the other side of the rock, he finds at
the bottom of it a narrow lake, which separated it
from the land therefore, pulling off his clothes, the
water being but shallow, he wades over with them in
bis arms; and, dressing himself, walks up a consider-
able way in the island, without seeing any human
creature, or perceiving any sign of its being inhabited,
which struck a great damp to his spirits. He walks it
over and over, cross-ways and long-ways; yet could
see nothing but monkeys,
see nothing but monkeys, strange beasts, birds, and
fowls, such as he had never seen before.
Having ranged himself weary, he sat down under a
cluster of trees, that made an agreeable arbour; the
place being pleasant and cool, made, as it were, for
repose, and he being still very much fatigued, prompted
him to lie down and sleep; during which his mind is
continually alarmed with the frightful aspect of grim
death. Sometimes he fancies himself striving with the
rolling waves, stretching out his arms to catch hold of
a plank tossing by, which, just come at, is beaten
back by the roaritig billows, whose terrible noise pro-
nounces his death; at other times he thinks himself
astride upon a piece of mast, labouring to keep himself
on, and of a sudden washed away, and sunk down by
a balky wave; on every side of him men calling for
help; others spent and past speaking; here some
floating that are already perished, and there others ex-
piring: thus, in every object, seeing his approaching
fate.
Being awaked out of that irksome and uneasy sleep,
he falls into as anxious and melancholy thoughts.
“ I have,”” said he, "escaped being drowned, but how
shat! I avoid starving? here's no food for man. But
why should I despair? Did not Nebuchadnezzar live
upon grass for several years, till restored to his nation?
Cannot I do the same for a few days? by which time
Providence, who has hitherto protected me, may raise
me some means to get hence." So, being entirely re-
digned, he walked about to see the island, which he
found surrounded with rocks, at the bottom of which
there was a small lake, which was fordable in most
places, so that he could with ease wade over to the
rock, which he did at every side of the island, to see
if he could perceive any ship whereby he might get
away: but, seeing none, and it drawing towards night,
he returns, and employs the remainder of the day in
looking for the most convenient place for him to pass
away the approaching night; and having fixed upon
one of the highest trees, he gets up as well as he could,
fearing some wild beast might devour him if he slept
below; where, having returned thanks to heaven for
his late great deliverance, he commits himself to its
his late great deliverance, he commits himself to its
371
care; then settles, and falls to sleep, and slept till
hunger waked him in the morning, having dreamt over
night of abundance of victuals, which he would fain
have come at, but was kept off by a cross cook, who
bid him go and fish for some, to which he answered,
that he was shipwrecked, and had nothing to fish
withal. Well, then," said the cook to him again,
"go where thou wast like to lose thy life, and there
thou shalt find wherewithal to support it.”
(C
Being awaked, he makes reflections upon his dream,
which though he imagined might proceed from the
emptiness of his stomach, it being customary for
people to dream of victuals when they go to bed hungry,
yet at that time it may prove ominous. Șo, driven 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, or aught
that might answer his dream, the air coming 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 decreed a lingering death
to punish him for his past sins, 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 creek in the rock, not far from where he
stood, he had the curiosity to go and see what occa-
sioned it.
Being come to the place he heard the noise proceed
from, he sees a fine large cod-fish, near six feet long,
dabbling in a hole in the rock, where the late storm
had cast it.
One under condemnation of death, and just arrived
at the place of execution, could not be more rejoiced
at the coming of a reprieve than he was at the sight
of this fish, having felt several sick qualms, forerunners
of the death he thought he was doomed to. "Heaven
be praised !' said he, "here's my dream right: where
Providence rescued my life from the grim jaws of
death, there it has provided me wherewithal to sup-
port it."
So, having taken off both his garters, he gets into
the hole where the fish lay; and, having run them
through its gills, he hauls it out, and drags it after
him, being heavy, and he very weak. Going along he
finds several oysters, muscles, and cockles in his way,
which the sea had cast up and down the rock; and,
having a knife about him, he sat down and ate a few;
so refreshed himself, his spirits being exhausted for
want of food. This small nutriment very much re-
cruited his decayed strength; and the thoughts of his
supply of provision having dispersed the dull ideas his
late want had bred in his mind, he cheerfully takes his
fish, which he drags with much more vigour than be-
fore; and filling his pockets with salt that was con-
gealed by the sun, which he found in the concavities
of the rock, away he goes to the place where he lay
the night before, in order to dress some of the cod-
fish: where being come, he picks up a parcel of dry
leaves, and with his knife and a flint struck fire, and
kindled them; then, getting together a few sticks made
a fire presently, and broiled a slice of his fish, of whicn
he ate so heartily that it overcame his stomach, being
grown weak with fasting. Thus sick, and out of
order, be applies to the helpless resource, which was
lying down; and having much fatigued and harrassed
himself with 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 terrible mon-
ster, such as never was heard of, either for bigness or
grimness, which pursued him; till having run himself
out of breath, he was forced to lie exposed to his fury,
but was prevented being devoured by a grave old gen-
tlewoman of a most graceful and majestic countenance,
at whose sudden appearance the monster fled. Having
recovered breath and strength to speak, he returns
the old lady thanks for his deliverance, 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 she
was fixed in no particular habitation, but dwelt at
every poor man's house; her occupation being to as-
sist the helpless, but not the slothful and negligent;
that he should see her again before it was long.
Meantime she bid him not go on in evil ways, but,
whenever overtaken, not to despair, 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 slept quietly the remainder of the night, he
awoke in the morning pretty fresh and hearty, but very
much disturbed at his late dream, which he feared pre-
saged and prognosticated some approaching evil; but
as he could make no comparative allusion of the old
lady who rescued him from the monster, he concludes
it must be an inspiration of Providence (whom the
grave old lady did personate in the dream), who lately
had preserved him from a death by all appearance un-
avoidable, to keep him from despair in this his great
extremity, promising to be at hand upon occasion, yet

THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
his surly refusal and rough usage prognosticate a
forward and hard winter, to whose severity I must lie
exposed, being altogether unprovided."
372
would not have him neglect means to get away from a
place where want threatens him. For though he
might for a while subsist on 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 accident as exposed him to the want
thereof, which he heartily wishes and prays may never
happen.
Having made these considerations, he, on his knees,
returns kind Providence his hearty thanks for all the
mercies that had been extended to him, begging the
continuance of its assistance. Then, as he took direc-
tions from his dream, watching the opportunity to get
away from that melancholy place, he goes to the other
side of the rock to try if he could perceive any ship-
ping in sight.
The wind being pretty high fed his hopes, that each
succeeding hour would gratify his wishing look with
that object the preceding could not bring forth, but
was disappointed. The night approaching, kept back
all probability for that time; however, depending on
better success the next day, he returns whence he
came; and, being hungry, makes a fire, and broils
another slice of the fish, then lays the rest upon broad
green leaves, and strews salt thereon to keep it from
spoiling, then goes to rest; and as he lay undisturbed
the night before under the trees, and much more easy
than a-top, he ventured again, committing himself to
the care of Providence.
But his thoughts, which all day had been disturbed
with the dread of those hardships he must probably
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 being the'
greatest of his fears, it is also the principal subject of
his dream; which presented to his imagination that
he was in a spacious place paved with hailstones of a
prodigious bigness, and surrounded with high moun-
tains of ice which echoed with shivers. At the far-
ther end thereof he saw an old man resembling Time,
as he is commonly painted, with heaps of hail and
snow about him, and himself very busy with making
more; at his side stood a very beautiful woman, whose
shape and make was uncommon, and her features and
complexion extraordinary; but what surprised him
most was her having three pair of breasts, wonderfully
handsome and curiously placed, which seemed to adorn
her bosom far more than the richest stomacher made
of diamonds or pearls could do; so that what in other
women would look monstrous was in her an addition
to her matchless beauty.
The sight of that most perfect and complete woman
warmed his blood, which the coldness of the place had
chilled, and tempted him to come nearer the charmer.
As he advanced every step he made seemed to add
strength to his limbs and vigour to his life, which made
him desirous to come nearer to the person from whom
he received such beneficial effluvia, but was suddenly
stopped by the old man's turning towards him with a
grim and surly countenance, which threatened his
nearer approach with evil.
Not daring to stand nearer, he stands still, won-
dering what business that most charming creature
could have with that surly, morose old fellow; when,
listening awhile, he perceived she was asking boons
of him in the behalf of a vast number of all sorts of
creatures that attended her at some distance behind,
which he refused in a most churlish manner; and as
she still persisted in her suit, following him up and down,
the ill-natured old man slily steps to the frosty moun-
tain, and pulls down a large clod of ice which stopped
a gap therein, whence came out a creature made and
featured like a man, but of a monstrous size and
frightful aspect, his excessive broad cheeks hanging
down on each side of his long-piked, chin like two
empty bladders, and his preposterous belly hanging
down, looking just like a sail without wind. That
monster was no sooner out, but he had orders from
the spiteful old man to drive away the woman and all
her attendants, which word of command was no sooner
given but it was put in execution. Having filled his
shrivelled jaws with wind, which then stood out like
so many kettle drums, he falls a-blowing upon one (of
the hills of snow, and turns it into a thick shower, which
ne drove with violence against that angel-like creature
and her clients, who immediately fled for shelter.
This barbarous treatment towards the most de-
serving of creatures, put him in amaze; to whom the
angry old man (seeing he did not go with the rest)
came in a fury, saying, "Dost thou put me to defiance ?
I'll bury thee in that which I only strewed over them,'
and went to lay hold of him, which caused him to
awake in a wonderful fright.
Being risen, he made reflections upon the late
dreams. "All my dreams," said he, "have ever
proved ominous; and, if I mistake not, this must have
some signification. Certainly this old man is Time,
laying up a store of frost and snow against next winter;
and that goodly woman is Nature, who, being tender
over all her creatures, interceded for moderation; and
These reflections bred various melancholy thoughts,
which almost led him to despair. "Oh !" said he,
"that I was but a mouse, a bat, or a yet meaner crea-
ture! Then should I be below the cruel persecutions
of Fate. But man, who was created in the noblest
form, endued with reason and understanding, animated
with an immortal soul, must be aimed at as the only
mark worthy its malignant darts! But why do I thus
rave at those evils we are the authors of? Had man
continued in his original state of innocence, the very
name of Fate or Fortune would not have been known.
Well, since this is the product of sin, I accept this
black lot as justly coming to my share; and, humbly
submitting to heaven's decrec, I thankfully take this
dream as a timely warning; and, in imitation of those
creatures represented in it, I'll provide what shelter I
can against bad weather comes.
"
J
Accordingly, first he begins to think of making him-
self a house to preserve him from the injuries of the
weather; but having nothing to make it of, nor any
instrument but a knife, which could be of little service
to him, he resolves to go to that part of the rocks
where he was shipwrecked, to see if he could discover
anything among the wreck that might be serviceable
to him; and therefore takes a branch of a tree along
with him, and coming to the place, he strips himself
and goes into the water (the water being low, dis-
covering the tops of several sharp-pointed rocks), and
gropes along with his staff for sure footing, wading as
high as his chin, diving to the bottom frequently, and
feeling about with his hands. This he continued doing
for almost two hours, but to no purpose, not daring to
go out of his depth; for he well knew that he could
do little good there, because he could discover no part
of the ship, not so much as the mast, or any of the
rigging, but fancied she lay in some deep hole, where
it was impossible to get at her.
Thus, despairing and fretting, and teazing himself,
he calls to mind that he had a hatchet in his hand
when he was cast away, and thought probably it might
lie in that cleft of the rock into which he was thrown;
thither he went, and, looking about, perceived some-
thing like the handle of a hatchet just above the sur-
face of the water at the bottom of the rock; and going
down to it, took it up, which, to his great joy, proved
to be the very thing he wanted.
}
•
Having got his tool, he dresses himself, and
goes on
to the island again, intending to cut down some trees
to make himself a hut. Looking about, therefore, for
the properest plants, and taking notice of a sort of
tree whose branches, bending to the ground, took
root, and became a plant, he thought they might be
the fittest for this purpose, and cut a sufficient parcel
of them to make his barrack; which was full business
for him that day.
•
•
;
+
The next morning, having paid his usual devotion,
he walks out again to look out a pleasant and conve-
nient place to make his hut or barrack upon. He walked
several hours, and could find none more sheltered from
the cold winds than that where he already lay, being
in the middle of the island, well fenced on the north
and east sides with trees, which stood very 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 six inches asunder, leaving a larger
vacancy for the door. His enclosure being made, he
bends the branches a-top from both sides, and weaves
them across one another, making a cover to it; which
being something too thin, he laid other branches over,
till they were grown thicker. Having finished the top,
taking large branches, he strips off their small twigs,
he goes about closing the sides; for which purpose,
and weaves them between the plants as they do for
sheep-pens; then made a door after the same manner.
His barrack being finished, which took him up fifteen
days' hard work ;
days' hard work; "Now," said he, "here's a house,
but where's the furniture? This, indeed, may keep
the weather from me, but not the cold. The
ground on which I do and must lie is hard, and doubt-
less, in the winter, will grow damp; which, with want
of covering, may occasion agues and fevers, the cholic
and rheumatism, and twenty racking distempers, which
may cause me to repent my having escaped a milder
death."
!
In this great consternation and perplexity, he goes
to see if he could spy any shipping riding within sight
of the island. As he was walking along, full of heavy
and dull thoughts, which weighed his looks to the
ground, he happened to find a sort of high grass that
grows but here and there, round some particular sort
of trees, of which he never took notice before. "Heaven
be praised!" said he, "I have found wherewithal to
keep my poor body from the ground, whilst I am, by
Providence, doomed to remain here." So passes on,
intending, at his return, to cut down a sufficient quan-
tity of it to make mats that might serve him instead of
bed and bed- clothes.
Having looked himself almost blind, without. seeing
the least prospect of what he desired, he concludes
upon going to cut the grass, which he stood in such
want of, and spread it together to dry, whilst the
weather was yet warm. That piece of work kept him,
employed the remainder of the day, and best part of
the succeeding, having nothing but a pocket knife to
cut withal. That work being done, wanting a tool to
spread and turn his grass, he takes a branch off the
next tree, which, having stripped of all the small ones.
about it, all but part of that at the top, being forky,.
made a tolerable fork. Thus being equipped for hay-
making, he went on with his work; and as he was at
it, he saw, at some distance, several monkeys as busy
as himself, scratching something out of the ground,
which they did eat upon the spot, and carried the rest
to their home,
!
His hopes that those roots might be for his use,:
those creatures being naturally dainty, cating nothing
but what men may, made him hasten to the place he
saw them scratching at, that by the herb they bear
(which they tore off) he might find out the root.
Having, by the leaves which he picked off the
ground, found some of the same, he dug them up, and
carried them to his barrack, where he broiled a slice
of his fish, and in the ashes roasted them, which eat
something like chesnuts done in the same manner.
1 J.
This new found out eatable much rejoicing him, hẹ
returned his hearty thanks to kind Providence, that
had put him in a way to provide himself with bread,
and that of a most delicious kind. As soon, therefore,
good quantity; but as he was going to the place where
as he had dined, he went out on purpose to dig up a
he had taken notice they grew pretty thick, he sees a
tortoise, of about a foot over, crawling before him..
"Heaven be praised!" said he, "here's what will sup-.
ply me both with victuals, and utensils to dress it in."
He ran, therefore, and turned it on its back, to, keep
it from getting away, whilst he went for 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.
14
>
Being tired of cod-fish, he dresses the tortoise, an
animal seldom eaten but upon extremity, the flesh/
thereof often giving the flux. Nevertheless he ven-
eating very much like veal; which at that time was a
tured upon it, and liked it extremely, some part of it,
very great novelty to him, having caten no fresh meat,
for a long time before.
tu
Happening to eat of that part of the tortoise which
is the most feeding, and least hurtful, he was in nowise.
the least discomposed; but, having boiled it all, he
laid by the remainder to eat now and then between
his fish.
-
i
Being provided with a boiling utensil, he often had
change, by means of those admirable roots so luckily
discovered; some of which he roasted for bread,
others he boiled with salt cod. This in a great mea
sure mitigated his misfortune, and softened the hard-
ship he lay under; so that, seeing but little prospect
of changing his present condition by getting away.
thence yet awhile, he thinks on means to make it us.
easy as possible while he remained in it; for having
projected a bed, and taking the grass, which by that
time was dry, he falls to work; and a mat being thes
thing concluded upon, he twisted the hay into ropes:
the bigness of his leg, then he cuts a pretty number
of sticks 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 six 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.y
ropes of the same, in the manner in which they make
pallions on board with old cable ends. When he had
finished his mat he beat it with a long 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.
+
a
}
+
•
HCE
[
$
"
The comfort and pleasure he found on his soft!:
mat (being grown sore with lying on the ground for
the space of a month or more), so liberally gratified
him for the time and labour he had bostowed in
making it, that it gave him encouragement to go
about another; a covering being the next necessary «
wanted; for though the weather was as yet pretty
warm, and he in a great measure seasoned by the
hardships he had gone through, yet the winter ap..
proaching, and the present season still favourable for
him to make provision against it, he goes and cuts...
more grass, which, being made ready for use, he
lengthens his loom to allow for rolling up at one,..
end, instead of a bolster, and makes it thicker than
"
the first, which he intends in cold weather shall lie:
upon him instead of blankets.
65
+
Being provided with the most necessary furniture'
he wanted, he thinks on more conveniences, resolving
to make himself a table to eat his victuals upon,"
and a chair to sit on. Thus, having cut several
A
·
7.80
-4
"
}
:
·
T
sticks about four feet long, he drives them in a row,
a little way in the ground, then takes smaller, which
he interweaves between; having made the top, he
sets it upon four other sticks, forky at the upper end,
which he stuck in the ground at one side of his bar-
rack to the height of a table: this being done, he
cuts four more branches, such as he judged would do
best for the seat and back of a chair, which he also
drove in the ground 'near' his ´table; and having
twisted the branches which grew to them with each
other, from back to front, and across again, he weaves
smäller between, bottoming his seat, which completes
the furniture of his habitation.
I
That care being over, another zucceeds, of far
greater moment. "Here's a dwelling," said he, "to
shelter me from the weather, and a bed to rest this
poor body of mine; but where is food to support it?
Here have I subsisted near one month upon a fish,
which the same dreadful storm that took away forty
lives sent me to maintain my own. Well, since kind
Providence has been pleased to preserve my life, pre-
ferable to so many who perished in that dismal acci-
dent, I am bound in gratitude to hold it precious; and
since my fish is almost gone, and I am not certain of
more, I must by degrees bring myself to live upon
roots, which I hope will never be wanting, being the
natural product of this island: so I must eat of the
small remnant of my fish but now and then, to make
it hold out longer. Dainties or plenty were not allot-
ted for him that was doomed to slavery, but labour
and hard living; and if I meet here the latter, Heaven
be praised, I have escaped the worse; I can take my
rest, and stand in no dread of any severe inspector and
task-master."
܀
I
•
?
ነ
Now being entirely reconciled to the state of life
Providence, on whom he fully depended, had been
pleased to call him tò, he resolves to make provision
of those excellent roots, and with his hatchet he cuts
a piece of a tree, wherewith he makes a shovel, in
order to dig them up with more ease. With this in-
strument he went to the place where he had observed
they grew thickest, which, being near the monkeys'
quarters, they came down from off their trees in great
numbers, grinning as if they would have flown at him,
which made him stop awhile. He might, indeed, with
his instrument in his hand, have killed several, and
perhaps dispersed the rest; but would not. Why,"
said he, "should I add barbarity to injustice? It is
but natural and reasonable for every creature to guard
and defend their own; this was given them by nature
for food, which I come to rob them of: and since I am
obliged to get of them for my subsistence, if I am de-
creed to be here another season, I will set some in a
place distant from theirs for my own use."
*
Having stood still a considerable time, those animals,
seeing he did not go forward, each went and scratched
up for itself, afterwards retiring, giving him the oppor-
tunity 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';, whilst those sly
creatures would, whilst he was digging up more, come
down from the trees, where they stood hid among the
leaves, and steal them away, which obliged him to be
contented for that time with as many as his pockets
would hold, resolving to bring something next time
which would contain a larger quantity; and fearing
these animals, which are naturally very cunning,
should dig them up and hide them, he comes early
the morning following to make his provision; and, for
want of a sack to put them in, he takes his jacket,
which he buttons up and ties at the sleeves; and as
he had observed that every root had abundance of
little off-sets hanging at it by small fibres, he pulls off
his shirt' also, of which he makes another sack to put
them in.
疲
​•
•
Being naked all but his breeches, and the day being
pretty hot, he thought he had as good pull them off
too; and fill them, his jacket being but short, and there
fore holding but few. Taking, therefore, his bundle
in one arm, and having the shovel in the other hand, |
ha goes to the place he intended to do the day before,
and expecting to find the same opposition as he did
then, he brought with him some of the roots he had
dug up the preceding day, in order to throw them
amongst those animals, and so quiet them. But to
his great wonder, and as great satisfaction, those crea-
tures which the time before had opposed him with
noise and offensive motions, let him now pass by
quietly, without offering to meddle with any when dug
up, though he had laid them up by heaps in their way,
and stood at a considerable distance from them.
This surprising reverence from these creatures set
him upon deep reflections on what could be the cause
thereof: whether it might not proceed from the prox-
imity of their shape and his. "But then," said he,
"my stature and colour of skin is so different from
theirs, that they cannot but distinguish I am not of
their kind. No, it must be a remnant of that awe
entailed by nature upon all animals to that most noble
and complete masterpiece of the creation, called Man,
which, now appearing in the state he was first created
in, and undisguised by clothe renew an image of that
•
+
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
respect he has forfeited by his fatal transgression
which ever since obliged him to hide the beauty of his'
fabric under a gaudy disguise, which often renders him
ridiculous to the rest of mankind, and generally ob-
noxious to all other creatures; making a pride of what
he ought to be ashamed of. Well," adds he, "since
my clothes bred the antipathy, I will remove that
cause, which will suit both the nature of these ani-
mals and my own circumstances." From that time he
resolved to go naked till the hardiness of the weather
obliged him to put something on.
Having picked up a sufficient quantity of offsets to
stock about two acres of land, he returns home,
leaving behind him a considerable number of roots
dug up for those poor animals, which attended him all
the time he was at work, without offering to touch
one till he was gone.
Being come home, he fixes upon a spot of ground
near his habitation, and digs it up as well as he could
with his wooden instrument, in order to sow his seed;
which, having compassed in about twenty days, he
implores a blessing upon his labour, and leaves it to
time to bring it forth. Thus, having finished the most
Thus, having finished the most
necessary work about his barrack, he resolves to take
a more particular view of the island, which till then
he had not time to do; and, taking a long staff in his
hand, he walks to the lake which parts the land from
the rock, and goes along the side of it quite round the
island, finding all the way new subjects of admiration.
On the left hand stood a rampart made of one solid
stone, adorned by nature with various forms and
shapes, beyond the power of art to imitate; some
parts challenging a likeness to a city, and clusters of
houses, with here and there a high steeple standing
above the other buildings: another place claiming a
near resemblance to a distant squadron of men-of-war
in a line of battle further, it bears comparison with
the dull remains of some sumptuous edifice, ruined by
the often repeated shocks of time, inciting the be-
holders to condolence for the loss of its former beauty.
At some distance thence, the prospect of a demolished
city is presented to the sight; in another place large
stones, like small mountains, laid as it were a-top of
one another, impress the mind with an idea of the
tower of Babel; and on the right hand a most pleasant
land covered with beautiful green grass, like camomile,
and here and there a cluster of trees composing 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 delight-
fulness of the place.
As he was walking on, admiring all these wonderful
works of nature, having caught cold (not being used
to go naked), he happened to sneeze opposite to a
place in the rock which hollowed in after the inanner
of the inside of some cathedral, and was answered by
a multitude of different voices issuing from that place.
The agreeableness of the surprise induced him to rouse
those echoes a second time, by giving a loud hem,
which was, like his sneezing, repeated in different
tones, but all very harmonious: again he hemmed,
and was so delighted with the repetition that he could
have spent hours in the hearing of it. "But why should
I," said he, "waste those melodious sounds, so fit to
waste those melodious sounds, so fit to
relate the Almighty's wonderful works, and set forth
his praise ?" Immediately he sung several psalms and
hymns, with as much emulation and devotion as if he
had been in company with numbers of skilful and
celebrated choristers.
373
searched into the cause without any satisfaction, he
conjectures it must make its way out somewhere under
ground, so went on till he came to the place he had
begun his march at, which ended that day's work.
but,
Having been round the island, which, to the best of
his judgment, was about ten or eleven miles in circum-
ference, 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 em-
ploy the next day in viewing the inside. Then, re-
commending himself to Providence, as he never failed
to do both morning and evening, he goes to bed;
not being sleepy, the over-active faculty in man roves
from one subject to another. His mind runs from his
present station to his former, re-assuming his past
pleasures, which he never must hope to meet 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 assistance,
and shake his future dependence 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 his mind of tumults and
cares, which crowd upon him.
Being satisfied about that subject, he enters upon
another as puzzling.
another as puzzling. The basin in which the foun-
tain ran, which was about five yards distant whence
the water did spring, being about nine feet over every
way, without any visible place to evacuate its over
complement, 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 long time
|
Sleep was granted him, but not rest; his repining is
chastised with terrifying dreams of the punishinent 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 fall at once upon
him, exerting their utmost malice and revenge, which
he cannot avoid, but by embracing either an ignomi-
nious death, or a severe and vile bondage. These ter-
rible aspects put him in the same pains and agony as
if already feeling the assigned torment.
Having, in his dream, with hard strugglings, escaped
death, he finds himself in an exceeding hot country, his
half-naked body continually bending to the hard and
dry ground, grabbling round a nauseous weed for ful-
some 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 woful days at the shameful gibbet! Sure it
would have been a milder fate!" At which he awoke
in such a consternation that it was several minutes be-
fore he could be thoroughly satisfied it was but a
dream. Having recalled his dispersed senses, he made
this reflection, that it was really the penalty 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 par-
don, imploring the continuation of Providence's pro-
tection; resolving, 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 ines-
timable, 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 will of God,
he casts off all cares, and banishes from his mind all
that could create any; resolving to employ those hours
that ran between the intervals of time he had dedicated
to divine worship, in the contemplation of the many
wonderful works of nature, manifested in such various
manners all over the island.
Y
Having spent a considerable time there with much
pleasure, he proceeds in his walk, being resolved to
make that his place of worship for the future, and at-
tend it twice a day constantly.
So he walks along the land, which he found very
level, covered with a delightful green grass, and adorned
with trees of divers sorts, shapes, and height, inhabited
with several sorts of curious singing birds, of various
colours and notes, which entertained him with their
melodious harmony. In some places stood a cluster
About three or four hundred paces farther, having of trees, composing agreeable and delightful groves,
turned on the other side of a jetting-out part of the proceeding from only one main body, whose lower
rock, he was stopped a second time by another sur- branches, being come to a certain length, applied to
prising product of nature; a large stone, growing out the earth for immediate nourishment, as it were, to
of the rock, advancing quite over the lake at the bot-ease the old stem that produced them; and so became
tom of it, representing something of a human shape, a plant, and did the same.
out of the breast whereof issued a fountain of exceed- Having for some time admired the agreeableness and
ing clear water, as sweet as milk; and, when looked at curiosity of the plant, by which nature seemed to give
fronting, was like an antique piece of architecture, human kind instructions; and looking about, if per-
which in old times they built over particular springs
which in old times they built over particular springs; chance he could find anything in his way for his own
and on the other side appeared as if springing from the proper use; he took along with him a sample of every
nostrils of a sea-horse. Those three so very different, different herb he thought might be eatable. Crossing
and yet, rightly compared, likenesses being offered by the island in several places, he comes at a most de-
one and the same unaltered object, made him curious lightful pond, about two hundred yards in length, and
to examine what parts of every resemblance helped to one hundred and fifty wide, with fine trees spreading
make out the others; and, having spent a consider-
make out the others; and, having spent a consider- their branchy limbs over its brink, which was sur-
able time in the examination, he found everything rounded with a beautiful bank, covered with divers
which the front had likeness of was employed in mak-kinds of flowers and herbs, so naturally intermixed,
ing the side representation, by being in some places which completed it in ornament and conveniency, as
shortened, and others lengthened, according to the though intended by nature for more than mortals' use.
point of sight.
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 saw many different sorts of fish, of various
bignesses, shapes, and colours. "Heaven be praised!”
said he, "here is a stock of fresh-water fish to supply
me with food, if the sea should fail me.
Being sufficiently diverted with their chasing one
another, which were of many beautiful and different
"1
374
colours, and made a most delightful scene, he proceeds |
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 made 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.
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
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
he, "they are of use; the pens, ink, and parchments
have equipped me to keep a journal, which will divert
and pass away a few anxious hours. As for the cheese
and brandy, they will but cause me new cares. Before
I had them I wanted them not; now the benefit and
comfort I shall find in them, when gone, will make me
hanker after them most. I wish I had still been with
out them; but now they are here, it would be a sin to
let them be lost. I'll take them home, and only use
them at my need, which will both make them hold out
the longer, and me grow less fond of them."

Having viewed the outside, whose extraordinary
agreeableness incited in him an insurmountable desire
to get into it, but where he was afraid to venture, lest
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 hedge of pimentoes, which cast a most fragrant |
smell. Here and there a large cluster of bushes and
dwarf-trees, wherein sheltered several kinds of wild
beasts and fowls. Sure," said he, "this island was
never intended by nature to lie waste, but rather re-
served to be the happy abode of some for whom
Heaven had a particular blessing in store. Here is
everything sufficient, not only for the support, but also
for the pleasure, 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 victuals; and, having made a fire,
he boils a slice of his salt fish with some roots, and
then the herbs he brought with him, which proved of
divers tastes, and all excellent; some eating like arti-
chokes, others like asparagus and spinnage, Now,"
said he, "what can I wish for more? here I 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 ordained for man's
drink. Pomp and greatness are but pageantry, which
oftentimes prove more prejudicial to the actor than
diverting to the beholder. Ease and indulgence are
apt to breed the gout and various distempers, which
make the rich more wretched than the poor. Now
these evils, thanks to my Maker, I stand 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 outside of the rock, in view-
ing the sea, and looking for oysters; so takes in his
hand his long staff, to grabble in holes; and his
breeches, which he ties at the knees, to bring them in.
Being come to a place of the rock he never had been
at before, he sees at a distance something like linen
hanging upon it, which, when came at, he found to be
the main-sail of a ship, with a piece of the yard
fastened to it. "Alas!" said he, "a dismal token of
insatiable ambition, which makes men often lose their
lives in seeking what they seldom find; and, if ever
they do, 'tis commonly attended with a world of care.
Happy is he who limits his desire to his ability;
aspiring not above his reach, and is contented with
what nature requires." Then he falls a-ripping the
sheet from the yard, which he finds in one place tied
with one of his garters! (having himself made use of
it for want of another string). "Heaven be praised !"
said he, "this is no effect of another shipwreck, but a
fragment of the unfortunate ship whose loss was my
redemption ;" which reflection made him shed tears.
IN
Having ripped the sail in pieces, he rolls them up in
such bundles as he could conveniently carry, and lays
them down till he had got a few oysters, proceeding
to grope in holes with his stick as he went on.
About forty paces farther he finds a chest in a cleft
of the rock, which had been washed up there by the
violence of the late storm. "Heavens !" said he,
"more fatal effects of Fate's cruelty, and man's teme-
rity! Was the sea made for men to travel on? Is
there not land enough for his rambling mind to rove?
Must he hunt after dangers, and put Death to defi-
ance? What is the owner of this the better for it
now? Or who can be the better in a place so re-
mote, 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'll take it home, it was sent hither by
Providence, perhaps for the relief of some so necessi-
tated 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 was in it by
degrees. Having taken as much of the sail-cloth as
he could conveniently carry, with the few oysters he
had got, he went home and fetched the tool, where-
with 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
several sheets of parchment, being blank indentures
and leases." These," said he, "are instruments of the
law, and often applied to injustice; but I'll alter their
mischievous properties, and make them records of
Heaven's mercies, and Providence's wonderful libe-
rality to me; so, instead of being the ruin of some,
they may chance to be the reclaiming of others." At
So, by degrees, he takes home the chest 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 transactions, and
the many mercies he had received from Heaven; and
that after his decease, whoever is directed thither by
Providence, upon reading his wonderful escapes in the
greatest of dangers, his miraculous living when remote
from human assistance, 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 since, to the
shipwreck, and what had befallen him since, to the
finding of the chest, which was on the fifteenth of
September, 1675, he proceeds. But calling to mind
his last dream but one, which did warn him to make
provision against winter, and the season being pretty
far advanced, he gathers a good store of fuel and roots,
begins to line the outside of his barrack with a wall of
turf, and lays the same at 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, which
reached 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 such a
consternation, that, notwithstanding his reliance on
Heaven's protection, he would have given the world,
had it been in his possession, to have been within
reach of human assistance, or, at least, to have some
company; solitude adding much to his terror and
affliction.
The glorious rising of the next morning's sun having
laid the mortifying rage of the blustering winds, Quarll,
whose late alarm was hardly quelled, still suspected its
most reviving raye to be terrifying glances and Aushes
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 so gets up with a
resolution to go and see if he could discern any effect
of the late tempest.
Being come at the other side of the rock, he saw
indeed surprising objects, but not afflicting; the mis-
chief that was done being to the inhabitants of the sea
only, a vast number of which had, by the wind, been
dis-elemented; a quantity of stately whitings, fine
inackarels, large herrings, divers sizes of codlings,
and several other sorts of fish; with a great number
of shells, of different shapes and bigness, lying up and
down the rock. "Heaven be praised!" said he, “in-
stead of damage to bewail, what thanks have I now to
return for this mighty benefit! Here the powerful
agent of mischief is, by kind Providence, made a mi-
pister of good to me. Make me thankful! I am now
Thus he spent the best part of the winter, making
provided for all the next winter, and yet longer, by tended with high winds, and abundance of hail and
no farther remarks, but that it was very sharp, at-
which time I am certain to have a fresh supply.
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 scraping
and polishing the rest of his shells, some as fine as
though they had been nakers of pearl, which made
them not only more fit for their intended uses, but
also a great ornament to his barrack, which he shelved
round with plaited twigs after the manner of his table,
and so set them upon it.
snow, which obliged him to make a broom to sweep it
away from about his hut, which otherwise would have
been damaged by it.
He who, when in distress,
To God makes his address,
And his bounties implore,
Is sure and may depend,
That relief he will send,
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 stewpans, of others
dishes and plates; some he kept water in, and others
fish in pickle; so that he was stocked with necessary
vessels as well as provision.
Being very weary with often going backwards and for-
wards with his fish, which took up all that day to bring
them home, he sits down to rest himself, and the rundlet
of brandy lying by, he was tempted to take a sup, which
was at this time very much wanted, his spirits being
very low, but he was loth to taste it lest he should
grow fond of the liquor, and grieve after it when it
was gone, Some moments were spent before he could
come to a resolution; at last, having considered the use
of it, which suited the present occasion, he concludes to
take a dram, and to use it as 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 nectar-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 in his bare lap, whence it fell to the
ground, and being unstopt ran all out,
Being awaked with hunger, having slept from
evening till almost noon of another day, which he
knew not whether the succeeding or the next to it,
seeing what had happened, he was sorely vexed, and
could have wept at the accident; but considering the
liquor which occasioned it might perhaps, in time, have
caused greater mischief, he soon was 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, an-
other appears of a far greater consequence, the Sunday
is lost, which he had so carefully observed till that
time. How can that be made up?
·
"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, adulteries, and blasphemies
are daily, by thy pernicious 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 be-
nefit, reviving a fainting heart, raising sinking spirits,
warming cold and decayed nature, and assuaging seve-
ral pains!" So blames himself highly for gratifying
his appetite with that wherewith he only ought to
have refreshed nature; and since 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 set apart for divine worship only, which he hoped
would keep him from breaking the commandment for
keeping holy the sabbath day, it being not certain
that the day appointed by the church for that purpose
was the very day God had sanctified for rest; so went
melodious sounds, repeated his thanksgivings to the
to the place where the echoes, in many different and
Almighty, which he had fixed upon to pay his devo-
tion, and there spent the rest of the day in prayers
and singing of psalms.
The next morning, having breakfasted on some of
his usual bread and a slice of the cheese he found in
the chest, he goes about curing his fish, in order to
salt them; having laid by as many for the present use
as he thought he could eat while fresh; he improves
the fair weather to dry one part of the remainder, and
keeps the rest in pickle.
* Lest the reader should think these and the following
verses to be the effect of my own brain, I solemnly protest
they are what I found in his memoirs, written by his own
hand.
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
form nature of her favourite's approach, who, at the
usher in the blooming spring, so mildly slips on to in-
of her rich wardrobe supplies all vegetables with new
joyful news, put on her gay enamelled garb, and out
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
harmonious notes.
on every budding tree, to grace his entrance with their
→
f
Quarll, also, whom bad weather had confined within
doors a considerable time, which had in a great mea-
!
1
!
sure 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 singing birds on
every side call to him; nature itself fetches him out
to behold her treasures.
Having, with unspeakable pleasure, walked some
time, diverted with the sweet melody of various kinds
of singing birds, and the sight of abundance of diffe-
rent sorts of blossomed trees and blooming flowers,,
all things within the island inspiring 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, he
finds more objects requiring as much admiration, but
affording a great deal less pleasure, vast mountains of
ice floating up and down, threatening all that came in
their way.
*
These terrible effects of the winter, which to that
time he was a stranger to, occasioned his making
these reflections:-
"He who on billow 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,
Is a contented mind, which never leaves one poor;
He is not truly rịch that 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 had died
for want of water. "If this," said he, "is all the da-
mage that has been done last winter, it may be borne;"
so went down, and measured the length of it, which
was above 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
´tyrant'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 go-
vernment only." So, with his knife, which he always
carried in his pocket, he cuts several slices of the whale,
and throws them to the small fishes, saying, "It is
but just ye should, at last, feed on that which so long
fed on you;" and as oil ran in abundance from the
places 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 rattling
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 into 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 ordinary, 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
night easily, there 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, whether
of it would not be injustice for him (who only by a
r no
providential accident was brought thither to save his
life) now to destroy those creatures to whom nature
has given a being, in a land out of man's reach to dis-
turb: "Yet nature requires what seems to be against
nature to grant: I am faint, and like to grow worse
the longer I abstained from flesh.
Having paused awhile, " Why," said he, "should I be
sa scrupulous? Were not all things created for the
use of man? Now, whether is it not worse to let a
man perish than to destroy any other creature for his
relief? Natures craves it, and Providence gives it:
now, not to use it in necessity, is undervaluing the
gift."
So, having concluded upon catching some of those
animals he had seen in the wood, he considers 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 outside 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 betimes 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
Immediately opened to see if he could find out whe-
平
​1
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
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 that 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
eases and guts it: but its proving to be a female big
with three young ones grieved him to the heart, and
made him repent making those killing rooses.
"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 be-
fore a good fire, and so roasts it.
19
His 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 ate
thing of flesh till then comparable to it, either for taste
or tenderness.
Having completed that piece of work, he goes and
visits his plantations, which he finds in a thriving con-
dition, the roots being in six months' time grown from
the bigness of a pea (as they were when first set) 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
march of a horse; so everything concurred to his
any-happiness;-for which, having returned his most liberal
benefactor his grateful acknowledgments, he thinks on
means to prevent any obstructions that may intercept
the continuation thereof; and as the want of clothes
was the only cause he could think of to make him un-
easy, having but the jacket and hose 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 thins those he had, so takes
away the lining from the outside of his clothing, in
order to wear the thickest in the coldest weather; and
so thins his dress by degrees, till at last he went quite
naked.
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 it with, he was obliged to unravel 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.
Having made a sufficient quantity, he makes a
couple 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 anything, so
that he wanted flesh a whole week, which did begin to
disorder his stomach, but not his temper, being entirely
resigned 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-
day to examine his nets, being too visible in the day-
time for game to run in, he happened to walk in the
wood, to take the full dimensions thereof, so chanced
to go by his nets, in one of which were taken two ani-
mals as big as a kid six weeks old, of a bright dun,
their horns upright and straight, their shape like a stag,
most curiously limbed, with a small tuft of hair on
each shoulder and hip. By their horns, which were
but short, they appeared to be very young, which re-
joiced him the more, being in hopes to tame those
which 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, proving 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 ha-
bitation, 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 branches,
whose strength increasing that sunimer, to fill up the
vacancy between each plant he pulled the turfs, where-
with he had covered the outside and top of the hut
between them, to keep the cold out in the winter.
His former hut, being now become a pleasant arbour,
gave him encouragement to bestow some pains about
it towards the embellishment of it, which seemed to
depend on being well attended. He resolved upon
keeping it 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 com-
posed the arbour were grown quite close, and made a
solid wall of about six 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.
375
The outside being done, he goes about inside neces-
saries, 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, edge-
ways, 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 on one side of the kitchen,
where he lays the shells fit for utensils, which both
adorned and furnished it.
His late arbour being, by his care, and time, and
nature's assistance, become a matchless lodge, as in-
tended by nature for something more than human
guests, he now consults to make it as commodious as
beautiful. "Here is," said he, "a delightful dwelling,
warm in the winter, and cool in the summer; delightful
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. Thus having
fixed upon a place convenient at the side of his lodge,
about six feet from it, twelve in length, and eight in
breadth, which he enclosed with the turfs that covered
the outside of his arbour, before it was sufficiently
thick to keep out the cold; then, having laid sticks
across the top of the walls, which were about eight
feet high, he lays turf thereon, and so covers it, leaving
an open place for the smoke to go out.
Having thus concluded, as being the best shift neces-
sity could raise him, he falls to ripping his jacket, in
the lining of which 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
intervals between fish he commonly found on the rock
after high winds and storms, never failing to visit the
sea three or four times a week, according as the
weather did prove; thus diverting many anxious hours
with the variety of objects that element affords. Some-
times he had the pleasure of seeing great whales chas-
ing one another, spouting large streams of water 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 un-
like those of dogs, calves, horses, lions, bulls, goats, and
several other creatures; some chasing another sort,
which, to avoid being taken, would quit their element,
and seek refuge in the air, and 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 a dread of the evil that threatened to ·
follow; thus commiserating the case of those whose
misfortune is to be exposed to them. Having spent
some time in reflection, he goes to his usual devotion;
and, calling to mind that in all that time he never saw
a young fish in it, he conjectured 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 colour nor make; but he
had the satisfaction of discovering the cause why the
fishes did not increase, they being devoured when
young by that creature; which, to prevent for the
future, he studies means to kill the destroyer, ǹets not
being proper instruments; it being necessary, 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 probably not
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 no tools but a hatchet
and a pocket-knife; wherewith if he made shift to cùt
and shape a bow, he could not make a latch and spring
necessary to it, so he must not think on it. Yet a bow
being the only thing he could apply to, he goes about
one forthwith, Thus having picked a branch of a
376
1
not always at hand, he resolves upon making a net, and
fastens it between the trees he saw them come in at.
ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
creature decked with new life. Love, by nature's di-
rection, 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 grest satisfaction, who, having given
them over, was doubly rejoiced to see them come again
in an increasing condition. "Heaven be praised I"
said he, “I shall have a stock of my own, and will not
fear wanting.”
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 net-making; for which, having twine to
twist, and thread to ravel out to make the said twine,
kept him employed till the following spring, which
came on apace.
1
7
THE
tree, which had the resemblance of 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 same, which he hardens and
straightens over the fire; then, having slit them at
one end about two or three inclies, he slips in a bit of
parchment, cut sharp, at one end, and about two or
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.
Having finished his net, and everything which be-
Thus equipped for an archer, wanting nothing but
longed to it, he goes and fastens it to the trees, as he
skill, which is only to be gained by practice, he daily So having made fitting preparations against their kid- had proposed; then takes a walk to his new plantations,
exercises shooting at a mark for the space of a fort-ding, he goes and examines the improvement of his which he found in a thriving condition; for which,
night, in which time he made such an improvement new plantation, where he found his roots grown full as and other benefits already received, he resolves, as in
that in three shots he would hit a mark of about three large as any of those that grew wild. "Make me duty bound, to attend at his usual place of worship,
inches square, at near fifty paces distant.
thankful!" said he, " I am now provided with all neces- and sing thanksgiving psalms, which the hardness of
sary food; I shall no more need to rob those poor the weather had kept him from all the late winter; but
$/
creatures of that which nature had provided for their it coming into his mind that whilst he was at his devo-
own proper use." Next he goes and views his small tion, returning thanks for the fair prospect of a plenti-
stock of peas and beans, which he found in a very pro-ful crop, his antelopes would break into the close, the
mising case; so, whilst the weather was fair, he falls hedge being as yet but thin, and devour the promising
to clearing a spot of ground to set them in, as they buds, which are the principal occasion of his devotion;
increased.
this not altogether improper consideration puts a sad
check to his religious intention; and though there was
a vast obligation to prompt him to the performance of
that part of his duty, yet he could not with wisdom
run the hazard, out of mere devotion to lose so pro-
mising a crop, which he should never be able to re-
trieve, his stock of seed being then in grass.
Į
Being sufficiently skilled, he goes and lies in wait for
his desired game; so placed himself behind a tree, as
near to the pond as he could, whither, the bird came in
a few hours after.
Turning up the ground, he found several sorts of
roots that looked to be eatable, some whereof were as
big as a large carrot, others less. He broke a bit of
every one, some of which breaking short, and not being
stringy, he judged they might be eatable; then he
smells them, and finding the scent not disagreeable, he
tastes them. Some were sweetish, others sharp and As he was debating in his mind between religion and
hot, like horse-radish; and those he proposes to use renson, whether the latter ought not to be a director
instead of spice. “Sure,” said he, "these, being of a to the former, he perceived his antelopes making to-
pleasant scent and savour, cannot be of an offensive wards the peas, whither they, doubtless, would have
nature." So, having manured his ground, he takes a got in, had he not returned and driven them another
sample of every root which he judged eatable, and way, which accident convinced him he might find a
boils them, as the surest way to experience their good-proper time to go about his devotions, no man being
ness.
required to worship to his prejudice. So, having put
off his religious duty till he had better secured his
peas and beans, he cuts a parcel of branches, where-
with he stops those gaps to prevent those creatures
going in; and having completed his work he goes to
his devotion, adding to his usual thanksgiving a par-
ticular collect for his being luckily in the way to pre-
vent his being frustrated of the blessing Heaven su
fairly promised to bestow on his labours.
>
64.
Having paid his devotion, he walks about the island,
being all the way delighted with the birds celebrating
their Maker's praise in their different harmonious
notes. Everything in nature," said he, “answers
the end of its creation but ungrateful man! who, am-
bitious to be wise as his Creator, only learns to make
himself wretched." Thus he walks till the evening,
making several reflections on the different 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
become home, and near bed-time, he first cats his sup-
per, and then having performed his customary religious
service, he goes to bed. The next morning, having
performed his customary devotion, he takes a walk
to his plantations, on which he implores a con-
'tinuation of the prosperous condition they appear to
be in; next he goes to examine his nets, in which he
finds a brace of fowls like ducks, but twice as large,
and exceeding beautiful. The drake (which he knew
by a coloured feather on his rump) was of a fine cin-
namon colour upon his back, his breast of a mazarino
blue, his belly of a deep orange, his neck green, his
head purple, his eyes, bill, and feet, red,-every colour
changing most agreeably as they moved. The duck
was also very beautiful, but of quite different colours
and much paler than the drake's.
The creature, being pitched upon the bank, never
stood still, but kept running round, watching for a
sizeable fish fit to swallow, so that he had no oppor-
tunity to shoot, till, having at last spied out one, it
launched itself into the pond, but rose more easily, |
which gave him time to take aim; nevertheless, he
missed it, being in motion, but when come to the top,
he struck it through the body as it opened its wings,
and laid it flat on the other side of the pond. He took
it up, wonderfully pleased at his good success the first
time of his practising his newly-acquired art; yet,
having taken notice of the bird's beauty, he had a re-
gret. 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 devour-
ing their young.
I
Most of them proved not only passable good, but
The inexpressible beauty of the feathers, which were extraordinary; some eating like parsnips, others almost
after the nature of a drake, every one distinguished like carrots, but rather more agreeable; some like
from another by a rim round the edge thereof, about beets and turnips; every one in their several kinds as
the breadth of a large thread, and of a changeable good as ever he ate in England, but of different colours
colour from red to aurora and green, the ribs of a de- and make, some being blueish, others black, some red
lightful blue, and the feathers pearl colour, speckled and some yellow. These, though not wanted, having
with a bright yellow; the breast and belly (if it might sufficient to gratify a nicer taste than his, were, never-
be said to be of any particular colour) was that of a theless, extremely welcome, being something like his
dove's feathers, rimmed like the back, diversely chang-native country's fate and product. So, having returned
ing; the head, which was like that of a swan for make, thanks for this most agreeable addition to his ordi-
was purple also, changing as it moved; the bill like nary, he sets a mark to every herb which those roots
- burnished gold, eyes like a ruby, with a rim of gold bore, in order to get some of the seed to sow in a
round it, the feet the same as the bill; the size of the ground he would prepare. So, being provided with
bird was between a middling goose and a duck, and in flesh, fish, herbs, and several sorts of roots, he goes
shape resembling a swan.
and examines what improvement his peas aud beans
have made, which he found increased to admiration,
the seven peas having produced one thousand, and the
three beans one hundred. Having returned thanks
for that vast increase, he lays them by, in order to set
them at a proper season, as he had done the year
fore.
+
*
饔
​Having bemoaned the death of that delightful crea-
ture, he carefully takes out its flesh, which, corrupting,
would spoil the outside; then fills 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
set it up in his lodge.
•
His good success in archery made him love the ex- By this time his antelopes had kidded, one of them
ercise, so that what odd hours he had in the day having brought four young ones, and the second three.
(besides those he set apart for his divine worship, and This vast addition to his provisions very much re-
those necessary occupations about his lodge, planta-joiced him, being sure now not to want flesh at his
tions, and making remarks) he bestowed in shooting need, which before he was in danger of, finding but
at the mark, which in time made him so expert that seldom anything in his net, so makes account to live
he hardly would miss a standing mark the bigness of a upon two of the young bucks whilst they lasted, killing
dove, at forty or fifty yards distance, once in ten one as soon as fit for meat; and so now and then
times, and would shoot tolerably well flying, having another, saving only five to breed, one whereof should
once occasion to try it upon a monstrous eagle, which be a mate to keep the females in rutting time from the
often flew rounding over the place where his antelopes wood, lest at one time or other they should stay away
and goats fed, near his lodge, which he shot at, fearing for good and all.
it would damage them, and killed with the second arrow.
The 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 weather
being grown something cold, and the wind pretty 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 backside of
his kitchen, with sticks, which he drove into the ground
about two feet from the wall, and then bends them
about three feet from the ground, and sticks them in
the said wall, and smaller branches he interwove be-
tween them; he shuts up the front and covers the top,
leaving both ends open for the antelopes to go in at;
then lays grass, which he dried on purpose, in the
said lodge for them to lie on. Thus, having dug up a
considerable 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 pre-
ceding one, only not so stormy.
The succeeding spring having awaked slumbering
nature, and rovived what the preceding hard'season had
caused to droop, every vegetable puts on new clothing
and recovers its wonted beauty; each animal assumes
fresh vigour; the beasts in the wood leap and bound
for joy, and each bird on the trees sings for gladness.
The whole creation, is, as it were, repaired, and every
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 killed one, which,
being roasted, proved to be more delicious 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' intervals, eating the cold remains in several
manners, reserving one of the other two males for a
time when 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, being of a gay, as
well as active, disposition, who launched 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 for his bow, but came too
late with it, the eagles being gone.
Having lost his two dear antelopes, especially the
female, having doomed the male for his own eating, he
could hardly forbear weeping, to think of their being
cruelly torn to pieces by those ravenous creatures.
Thus having for some time lamented his loss, and be-
wailed their hard fate, he thinks on means to prevent
the like evil for the time to come; and as his bow was
5
·
.
.
:
1
•
י
•
4
7
·
4
66
The disappointment in catching those delightful
fowls instead of ravenous eagles, as he had purposed,
no ways displeased him, but he rather was rejoiced at
having such beautiful fowls to look at; yet it went
much against his mind to deprive those creatures of
their liberty (the greatest comfort in life), which na-
ture 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 stricter
than my own; they shall have the whole island to
range in." He then pinions them, puts them in the
pond, and makes baskets for them to shelter in, which
he places in the branches of those trees that hung
closest to the water, taking particular care to feed
them daily with roots roasted and boiled, and the guts
of the fish and other créatures 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 re-
turned kind Providence thanks for the vast increase,
and concludes to live upon the young antelopes as
long as they lasted, reserving only one for suck of 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
►
V
++
PA
•
•
•
Having completed his dairy, he proceeds in his reso-
Jution of making cheese, having learnt the way in
Holland; and, for want of rennet to turn his milk, he
takos some of the horse-radish seed, which, being of a
hot nature, 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, six inches below that; then slits the
circle, and with his knife gently opens it, parting it
*-* : from the tree. Thus he makes as many hoops as he
*
5
.27.
✔
...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
Amake a place to keep it in, the kitchen wherein he was
obliged to lay his salt fish (which commonly smells
atrong) not being a proper place for cream or milk;
for which end he makes a dairy-house at the other
side of his dwelling with branches of trees, after the
manner of a close arbour, and thatches it over with
grass, which, answering the kitchen in form and situa-
tion, made uniform wings, that added as much to the
beauty as conveniency of the habitation.
材
​+
}
judged would contain his paste, which, being girded
round with cords to keep them from opening, he fills
with the said paste, and lays them by till fit to eat.
This being done, which completed his provisions, he
returns thanks for those blessings which had been so
liberally bestowed on him. "Now," said he, "Heaven
be praised! I exceed a prince in happiness.. I have
a habitation strong and lasting, beautiful and conve-
nient, freehold; a store of comforts, with all necessa-
ries of life at free cost, which I enjoy with peace and
pleasure uncontrolled; yet I think there is still some-
thing wanting to complete my happiness; if a partner
in grief lessens sorrow, certainly it must in delight
augment pleasure. What objects of admiration are
here concealed, and, like a miser's treacure, 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.
!
**
..
·
:
1
•
1,
}
****
.4
In that 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
….. stillʼruns on upon the subject that took it up the day
3
before, and forms ideas suitable to his inclination; and
was solitude was the motive of its being disturbed, he
indulges it with the thoughts of company, dreaming
that the fame of his station and happy state of life was
> spread about the world; that it prompted a vast num-
ber of people from all parts to come to it, which at last
induced several princes to claim a right to it; which,
being decided by a bloody war, a governor was sent,
who laid taxes, demanded duties, raised rents, and
warned him to be gone, having fixed upon his habi-
gri tation for himself to dwell in. Being sadly disturbed,
he cries out in his sleep-" This is a great punish-
ment for my uneasiness. Could I not be contented
with being lord of this island, without provoking
heaven to bring me under the power of extorting
- governors?”
*
01
..
..
13
4
1
7 1.
:
▸
-
-
Being within forty or fifty yards thereof, he saw a
number of monkeys of two different kinds, one sort
squealing and fighting against the other, without inter-
* mixing, but still rallying, as they scattered in the scuf-
5. fle. 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 ground.
At his approach the battle ceased, and the combat-
ants, retiring at some distance, left the spot of ground
on which they fought clear; whereon lay a consider-
able quantity of wild pomegranates which the wind
had shook off the trees the night before, and which
were the occasion of their strife.
1
こ
​4
•
B
►
+
+
•
There happening a great noise, he starts out of his
sleep, with the thought of hearing a proclamation; and
cries out-" Alas! it is too late to proclaim an evil
which is already come." But being thoroughly awake,
and the noise still continuing, he found he had been
dreaming, which very much rejoiced him; he, there-
fore, puts on his clothes, and hastens to the place he
heard the noise come from.
•
+
His coming having caused a truce, every one of
those creatures keeping still and quiet during his stay,
he resolves to use his endeavours 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 an-
swered his intention, those animals quietly coming to
•
H
He shall not be wasteful of anything whatsoever,
especially of any creature's life, killing no more than
especially of any creature's life, killing no more than
what is necessary for his health, but shall every day
examine his nets, setting at liberty the overplus of his
necessity, lest they should perish in their confinement.
He must also keep everything in the same order and
cleanness he shall find them in, till and manure the
ground yearly, set and sow plants and seeds, fit for
food, in their proper seasons.
g. that share: next to them, and peaceably carrying it
J
* away, each to their quarters. This occasioned several
reflections on the frivolous, and often unjust, quarrels
‚ that arise among princes, which create such bloody
el: wars as prove the destruction of vast numbers of their
subjects. "If monarchs," said he, "always acted with
as much reason as these creatures, how much blood The next morning he takes his usual walks, and
and money would they save!" Thus goes on to his ❘ visits his nets. In that he had set for eagles he found
Having written this at the bottom of the map he
had drawn, being supper-time, he takes his meal, then
goes to his usual evening devotion, and, after an hour's
walk, to his bed, sleeping
walk, to his bed, sleeping quietly all night, as being
easy in his mind.
1
•
377
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 appe.
tite and dresses it, eating part thereof for his dinner;
it was very fat and plump, and ate much like a phea-
sant, but rather tenderer and fuller of gravy.
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 suffi-
cient to stock my ground the ensuing one.'
|
"
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 as he could not destroy them with his net, which
Thus being plentifully supplied with necessaries, and had hung a considerable time without the intended
in a pleasant island, everything about him being come success, he projects the prevention of their increase by
to perfection, his dwelling, which seems intended by destroying their eggs, leaving his nets wholly for the
nature for some immortal guest, being by time yearly use they had been successful in, and searches the
repaired and improved, leaving no room for care; yet clefts of the rock next to the sea, where those birds
the unwise man, as if an enemy to his own ease, can- commonly build; where, having found several nests,
not be contented with the enjoyment of more than he he takes away the eggs that were in them, being then
could reasonably crave, but must disturb his mind with their breeding time, and carries them home in order to
what concerns him not. "What pity," said he, "so empty the shells, and hang them up and down in his
delightful, a habitation, attended with such conveni-habitation amongst the green leaves which covered
ences, and situated in so wholesome an air and fruitful the ceiling thereof; but having accidentally broke one,
a land, should at my death lose all those wonderful and the yolk and white thereof being like that of a
properties, and become useless for want of somebody turkey, he had the curiosity to boil one and taste it,
to enjoy them! What admiration will here be lost for which ate much after the manner of a swan's; the rest
want of beholders! But what kind of man could I he saved to cat now and then for a change, reaping a
settle it upon, worthy of so fine an inheritance? double advantage by robbing these birds, lessening
Were it at my pleasure to choose myself an heir, such | thereby the damage they might do him in time, and
only appear virtuous whose weak nature confides to adding a dish to his present fare.
chastity. Every constitution cannot bear excess;
want of courage occasions mildness, and lack of strength
good temper; thus virtue is made a cloak to infirmity.
But why do I thus willingly hamper myself with those
cares Providence has been pleased to free me of?
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 re-
cording; still performing his usual exercises, and taking
his walks with all the satisfaction his happy condition
could procure; entirely forsaking all thoughts and de-
sires 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 repetition of the
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
objects of admiration.
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
-
usual place of worship, in order to return thanks that
he was free of that evil, the dream whereof had so tor-
tured his mind; though he confessed he justly deserved
the reality for his uneasiness in the happiest of cir-
cumstances.
"Leave the miser the knowing care
;
Who'll succeed him, or be his heir
That racks his soul with discontent,
Lest 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 sorts of curious fish, and a
spacious wood, harbouring several sorts of wild-fowl
and beasts fit for a king's table.
Item,-A dwelling commenced by art, improved by
nature and completed by time, which yearly keeps it
in repair, as also its furniture.
Item,-The offices and appurtenances thereof, with
the utensils thereunto belonging, which said island,
dwelling, &c. are freehold and clear from taxes; in no
temporal dominion, therefore screened from any impo-
sitions, duties, and exactions; defended by nature
from invasions or assaults; guarded and supported by
Providence. All which incomparable possessions are
to be held upon the following terms, viz.,
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 side of this island, and within the
alcove nature prepared for the lodgment of several har-
monious echoes, and there pay his devotions, singing
thanksgiving-psalms to the great Origin and Director
of all things, whose praises he will have the comfort to
hear repeated by melodious voices.
Next, he shall religiously observe and keep a
seventh day for worship only, from the rising of the
sun till the going down thereof; therefore he shall the
day before make all necessary provision for that day.
That he shall, after any tempestuous wind or storm,
visit the sea at the outside of the rock, at the east,
south, west, and north ends, in order to assist any one
in distress.
1
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, is also
mounted on thus, wave upon wave, till, come to a
bulky body, too heavy for the undermost to bear, sunk
all together. "This," said he, "is a true emblem of
ambition: men, striving to outdo one another, are
often undone."
66
As he was making reflections on the emptiness of
vanity and pride, returning heaven thanks that he was
separated from the world, which abounds in nothing
else, a ship appears at a great distance, a sight he had
not seen since his shipwreck. Unlucky invention !"
said he, "that thou should'st ever come into men's
thoughts! The ark, which gave the first notion of a
floating habitation, was ordered for the preservation
of man, but its fatal copies daily expose him to de-
struction." 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 had spied
him out with their perspective glasses; and, supposing
him to be shipwrecked, and to want relief, sent their
long-boat with two men to fetch him away.
At their approach his heart alters its motion, his
blood stops from its common course, his sinews are all
stagnated, which entirely unframes his reason, and
makes him a stranger to his own inclination: which,
struggling with his wavering resolution, occasions 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 inclination; which
being now encouraged by a probable opportunity of
being answered, rushes on to execution.
He now,
quitting all his former reliance on Providence, depends
altogether upon his getting away, blessing the lucky
opportunity of seeing his blessed country again, for
which pleasure he freely quits and forsakes all the
happiness he enjoyed; gladly abandoning his delight-
ful habitation and plentiful island! He thinks no more
of Providence; his mind is entirely taken up with his
voyage.
voyage. But disappointment, which often attends the
greatest probabilities, snatches success out of his hand
before he could grasp it, and intercepts his supposedly
infallible retreat: the boat could not approach him by
reason of the rocks running a great way into the sea
under the water, nor could he come at the boat for
sharp points and deep holes, which made it unfordable,
as well as unnavigable; so that after several hours'
striving in vain on both sides to come at one another,
the men, after they had strove all they could, but to no
purpose, said something to him in a rage, which he
understood not, and went without him, more wretched
now than he was when he was first cast away. His full
dependence upon a retreat made him abandon all fur-
ther reliance on Providence, whom then he could in-
•
378
<6
Plore; but now, having ungratefully despised heaven's
bounties, which had been so largely bestowed on him,
he has forfeited all hopes of assistance thence, and ex-
pects none from the world. Thus destitute, and in
the greatest perplexity, he cries out, "Whither shall
I now fly for help? The world can give me none, and
I dare not crave any more from heaven. O cursed
delusion! but rather cursed weakness! Why did I
give way to it? Had I not 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, suffi-
cient to wash away my fault, or case me of the remorse
it does create! But why does my distracted fancy
propose impossibilities? Is not the ocean sufficient to
rid me of this wretched life? Then adieu, infectious
world, thou magician of iniquity! The thoughts of
which are now more offensive than the most nauseous
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 jaws wide
open, looking at him in a most dreadful manner, stop-
ped the execution of his desperate design. Thus,
death appearing in a different shape than he had pro-
posed to meet him in, frightens away his resolution of
dying. "I may," said he, "condemn myself: but
vengeance belongs to God alone, who rejects not tears.
of repentance, but always extends his mercies towards
the penitent; and since St Peter, after thrice denying
his Lord and Master, was, by repenting and weeping
over his sin, received again into favour, I hope these
my weak but sincere tokens of repentance, will be ac-
cepted of, for ever divorcing myself from the world,
and never thinking of its alluring pleasures but to des-
pise them."
And, for the better performance of that
pious resolution, he sets that woful day apart (in which
he was about to commit that fatal deed) for prayer
and fasting. Thus he went home, and having ate
nothing since the day before, he spent the remainder
of the day in fasting and praying; singing penitential
psalms till dark night, that nature urged him to re-
pose,
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
late vow, never to endeavour to wish to go hence,
whatever opportunity offers, though attended with
ever so great a probability of success, and prospect of
gain;" fully settling 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
benefactor, who had so often and miraculously rescued
him from death.
The pains and labour he had been at in the day,
climbing up and down the rock, dragging himself to
and fro, to come at the boat, having very much racked
his limbs; and the disappointment of his full depend-
ence on the late promising success, as also the tor-
nienting remorse, and heavy grief, for his sinful re-
liance thereon, much fatiguing his mind, rendered
sleep, which is ordained for the refreshment of nature,
of no manner of help to him; his thoughts are conti-
nually disturbed with frightful visions; all his past
dangers glare at him, as if threatening their return;
but that which terrified him most was the frightful
idea of the terrible monster which rose out of the sea
at that instant ne was going to plunge himself in it.
64
46
Being awaked out of his restless sleep, rather more
fatigued than when he lay down, having still the ter-
rible aspect of the sea monster in his mind, he made
several reflections on the execrable nature of his
intended sin; admiring the immense goodness of Pro-
vidence, who, to deter him from committing the
enormous act, had ordered that (beyond imagination)
terrible object, as the most suitable to the barbarity of
his design, to strike into him that terror which the
species of death he had fixed upon could not. Thus
having with tears acknowledged the enormity of his
resolution, he returns Providence thanks for its inesti-
mable goodness, who, notwithstanding his late most
ungrateful elopement, preserved him from eternal, as
well as temporal, ruin. Having paid his devotion, and
sung a thanksgiving psalm, he takes a little nourish-
ment, 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 resolves to draw it according
to the idea he had in his mind. Perhaps," said he,
having often the representation before my eyes, it
will make the object more familiar and less frightful."
Taking, therefore, pen and ink, and a sheet of parch-
ment," Now," said he, "how shall I represent what
is past imagination to conceive? A form without like-
ness, and yet comparable to the most terrible part of
every frightful creature; a large head, resembling that
of a lion, bearing three pair of horns; one pair upright,
like that of an antelope; another pair like a wild
goat's; two more bending backwards: its face armed
all round with darts, like a porcupine; vast great eyes,
sparkling like a flint struck with a steel; its nose like
a wild horse, always snarling; the mouth of a lion,
and teeth of a panther; the fences of an elephant, and
the tusks of a wild boar; shouldered like a giant, with
claws like an eagle; bodied and covered with shells
like a rhinoceros, and the colour of a crocodile."
Having likened every different part, he proceeds in
the representation thereof, which, being finished, 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
animals that are most frightful and terrible! Now,
perhaps, this being constantly before me, may come
less in my mind." Then fixing it against his wall-
"This," said he, "will be also a memorandum of my
"C
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 is sufficient to make his
life happy; where plenty flows on him, and pleasure
attends his desires; abounding in all things that cap
gratify his appetite, or delight his fancy. A herd of
delightful antelopes, bounding and playing about his
habitation, divert him at home; and in his walks he
is entertained with the harmony of divers kinds of
singing birds; every place he comes at offers him new
objects for pleasure: thus all seems to concur in com-
pleting his happiness.
In this most blessed state he thinks himself as Adam
before his fall, having no room for wishes, only that
everything may continue in its present condition; but
it cannot be expected that fair weather, which smiles
on his beauty, will not change. The sun must go its
course, and the seasons take their turn; which consi-
derations must, for the present, admit some small care,
He is naked, and his tender constitution susceptible of
the cold; therefore, the clothes he was cast away in
being worn out, he is obliged to think of providing
something to defend 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 hè cuts down asufficient quantity, which,
when ready to work, he makes small twine with, and
plaits it in narrow braids, which he sews together
with some of the same, and shapes a long, loose gown,
that covered him to his heels, and a cap of the same.
By the time he had finished his winter garb, thẹ
weather was grown cold enough for him to put it on,
The frosty season came on apace, in which there fell
such a quantity of snow that he was forced to make a
broom, and sweep it away from about his habitation
from about his habitation
twice a day; as also the same he made to the places
he had occasion to go to, tossing the snow on each
side, which, before the winter was over, met a-top,
and covered it all the way, which obliged him to keep
within doors for a considerable time, and melt snow
instead of water, lest, going for some, he might chance
to be buried among the snow.
The winter being over, and the snow dissolved, the
gay spring advances apace, offering nature its usual
assistance, repairing the damages the late frost had
done, which joyful tidings made everything smile.-
Quarll also, finding himself revived, took his former
walks, which the preceding bad weather had kept him
from, though there had been no considerable storm the
winter before.
He having a mind to view the sea, and being come
to the outside of the north-west end of the rock, sees
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.
+
K
This put him in mind of canoes, with which the In-
dians paddle up and down their lakes and rivers; and,
being on that side of the rock next the island of Cali-
fornia, he fancied some of them were come to visit this
island, though not many in number, their canoes hold-
ing, at the most, but two men; yet, as some of these
ing, at the most, but two men; yet, as some of these
people are accounted great thieves, daily robbing one
another, he hastens 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 carelessly on a pin
behind his door. Had they been contented with that,
he would not have regarded it; but they carried away
some of his curious fish, and, what grieved bim most,
the fine bird he had taken such pains to dress and
stuff, and care to preserve; as also his bows and
arrows.
the effect of the high wind which happened the night
before.
Having missed these things, which he much valued,
he hastens to the outside of the rock, with his long
staff in his hand, in hopes to overtake them before
they could get into their canoe, but happened to
too late, they being already got near half a league
from the rock. Yet they did not carry away their
theft; for there arising some wind, it made the sea
somewhat rough, and overset their canoe, so that
what was in it was all lost but the two Indians,
who most dexterously turned it on its bottom again,
and 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 sight.
Having seen as much of them as he could, he
walks to the north-east side, in order to discover
Being come to the outside of the rock, he perceives
at a distance something like a large chest, but having
no lid to it. Taking that to be the product of some
late shipwreck, he grieved at the fatal accident.
"How long," reflected he, "will covetousness decay
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."
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 deeper 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 jetting part of the
rock, which screened it from his sight, as also the ship
it belonged to.
The sight of this much amazed him, and made him
cense 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, ho finds indeed what he sus-
pected; those villains had most sacrilegiously rifled
and ransacked his habitation, not leaving him so much
as one of the mats to keep his poor body from the
ground: his winter garb was also gone, and what else
they could find for their use,
The loss of those things, which he could not be
without, filled him with sorrow, "Now," said he, "I
am in my first state of being; naked I came into the
world, and naked I shall go out of it;" at which he
fell a weeping.
Having grieved awhile" Why," said he, "should
I thus cast myself down? Is not Providence, who
gave me them, able to give me more? Thus, having
resolved before winter to replenish his loss, he rests
himself contented, and gives the ruffians' evil actions
the best construction he could. Now I think on it,"
said he, "these surely are the men who, about twelve
months since, would charitably have carried me hence,
but could not for want of necessary implements; and
now, being better provided, came to accomplish their
hospitable design; but not finding me, supposing I was
either dead or gone, took away what was here of no
Much good may what they have got do them,
and may it be of as much use to them as it was to
me," Thus he walks out in order to cut grass to dry,
and make himself new bedding and a winter garb,
use.
}
Having walked about half a mile, he perceives the
sume men coming towards the pond. Heaven be
praised!" said he, "here they be still. Now, when
they see I am not gone, nor willing to go, they will
return me my things, which they are sensible I cannot
do without;" with which words he goes up to them.
44
By this time they had caught the two old ducks,
which, being pinioned, could not fly away as the rest
did. He was much vexed to see the best of his stock
thus taken away; yet as he thought they were come
to do him service, he could grudge them nothing that
would anywise 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.
J
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
at their approach, they proposed to catch hold o
them.
Being come to the place where they used to feed,
which was near the dwelling, the young ones, not
being used to see any men in clothes, nor anybody but
their master, presently fled, but the two old ones,
which he had bred up, were so tame that they stood
still, only when the men came to them they kept close
to him, which gave the men opportunity to lay hold of
them, when, notwithstanding Quarll's repeated entrea-
ties, they tied a halter about their horns, and barba-
gorously led them away,
Quarll was grieved to the heart to see his darlings,
which he had taken such care to breed up, and, which
were become the principal part of his delight, follow-
ing him up and down, and which, by their jumping
and playing before him, often dispersed melancholy
thoughts; notwithstanding all these endearing quali-
fications thus hauled away, he weeps, and on his
knees begs they may be left; and though they under-
stood not his words, his actions were so expressive
and moving that, had they had the humanity of can-
nibals, who eat one another, they would have yielded
to so melting an object as the poor broken-hearted
A
.
|
Quarll was; but the inflexible boors went on, cruelly
hauling and dragging the poor creature, which, as if
sensible of the barbarity of the act, looked back to
their afflicted master as craving his assistance, which
at last so exasperated him that he was several times
tempted to lay on the ravishers with his long staff, but
as often was stopped by the following consideration,
“Shall I," said he, "be the destruction of my fellow,
creatures, to rescue out of their hands animals of
which I have an improving store left, and deprive
them of their healths, and perhaps of their lives, to
recover what cost me nought? Let them go with
what they have, and the merit of their 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 they are
now deprived of, and for which they will pine and die,
which, for their sake, I cannot but wish, for life with-
out liberty is a continual death."
+
As he was walking, thinking (as it is usual after the
loss of anything 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?" said he, "have they not
all they desire; would they carry away my habitation
also? Sure they have no design on my person; if so,
they will not take it so easily as they did my dear
antelopes." Thus he resolved to exercise his quarter-
staff if they offered to lay hands on him. The vil-
lains, whose design 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 distance, divining how to
seize him.
•
[
Quarll, who, by their consulting, guessed at their
design, not thinking it proper to let them come to a
resolution, makes at the nearest, who immediately
took to his heels, and then to the next, who imme-
diately does the same. Thus he follows them about
for a considerable time; but they divided, in order to
tire him with running, till the night approaching 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 that he desired, he returned as
soon as he saw them in the long-boat that they rowed
to their ship, which lay at anchor some distance from
the rocks.
1
+
THE ENGLISH HERMIT.
379
Having made reflections upon the latter part of his | which they imagined the island produced; likewise
dream, the first part thereof being but a repetition of flat-bottomed boats to tow in shallow water, where
what happened the day before, he makes this applica- others could not come; and thus by degrees to load
tion, "This," said he, "is a check for my discom- their ship with booty, But ever-watchful Providence
posing that peace upon such a frivolous account, blasted their evil projects, and confounded their de-
which, by Providence, was intended I should enjoy, vices, at the very instant they thought themselves sure
having supplied me with all necessaries to maintain of success. The implements in a flat-bottomed boat
it." He therefore makes a resolution never to be were towed to the very foot of the rock by a young
vexed, let what will happen; but with patience submit fellow, who, being lighter than a man, was thought
to the will of God, who has the direction of all things. fittest to go with the tools, which pretty well loaded
Then, having paid his usual devotion, he goes into the the boat.
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 quantity
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 whence proceeded the
disagreeable noise without; which ceasing as soon as
the bird was sheltered, made him imagine those car
rion 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 com-
posed so delightful an object. It was about the big-
ness 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 ma-
zarine blue, and on the top of it a tuft of shining gold- |
coloured feathers, which spread over it, hanging near
three inches beyond, all round; its breast, face, and
part of its neck, milk-white, curiously speckled with
small black spots, a gold-coloured circle about it, its
back and neck behind of a fine crimson, speckled with
purple; its legs and feet the same colour as its bill;
its tail long and round, spreading like that of a pea-
cock, composed of six rows of feathers, all of different
colours, which made a most delightful mixture.
•
S M
Their materials being landed, to their great satisfac
tion, the men on board embarked in two more of the
same sorts of boats, but were no sooner in them but a
storm arose, which dashed their slender bottom to
pieces, and washed them into the sea, in which they
perished, over-setting also the flat-bottomed boat on
shore with the load, and the lad underneath it.
The storm being over, which lasted from about
eight in the morning till almost twelve at noon, Quarll,
according to his custom, went to see if he could per-
ceive any damage done by the late tempest, and if any,
distressed by it, stood in want of help.
Being at that side 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
damage that has been done, make me thankful; it will
recruit me with fresh fish and utensils." Going to the
N. W. part, where he sees a battered boat, floating
with the keel upwards, "This," said he, "bodes some
mischief;" but thought it not to be of any consequence.
Having gone about fifty yards farther, he espies a
small barrel at the foot of the rock, with several planks
and fragments of a ship, floating with the tidẹ. “Alas,"
said he, "these are too evident proofs of a shipwreck
to hope otherwise." As he was looking about he hears
a voice cry out, much like that of a man, at some dis-
tance, behind a part of the rock. Being advanced a
small matter beyond where he was "Heaven be
praised!" says he, "there is somebody whom I am
luckily come to save, and he, most fortunately, come to
be my companion. I cannot but rejoice 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," says he, "this
must be some woman, by the noise. This sets his
blood a glowing, his heart alters its motion. Now,"
said he, joyful," Providence has completed my happi-
ness, I shall have a companion, and a helpmate ;" and
goes on with fresh vigour, as though he had recovered
Quarll, being at the outside, was dubious whether his strength, and got new limbs. The rough and
he should detain him or let him go; his affection for savage rock, which was before in a manner inaccessible,
that admirable creature equally prompts him to both is now made easy to walk. He climbs the highest
he cannot bear the thoughts of parting with so lovely places with activity, and goes down the steep as
an object, nor harbour that of depriving it of. its nimbly, and soon arrived where he judged the person
liberty, which it so implicitly trusted him withal. to be. Yet, seeing nothing but what he took to be a
Thus, after a small pause, generosity prevails over chest, began to be disheartened. Sure," said be,
self-pleasure. Why should I," said he, "make the "this is not a second illusion to decoy my fancy after
place of its refuge its prison?" He therefore makes what is to be had!" Thus his joy on a sudden turned
room for it to go, which, with a slow pace, walks out; into a deep melancholy; but the creature underneath,
and, having looked about a small time, mounts up a who, having heard some noise near at hand, ceased
considerable height, and then takes its course north-crying to listen; yet, seeing nobody come, cries out
west.
again somewhat louder than before.
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, withdrawing
to give it liberty to eat and drink, and stood out peep-
ing 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 a composed
and easy manner, much like that of a cock.
66
<<
"6
"}
warm.
These wretches being gone, he returns heaven
thanks for his deliverance, and as his bridge bad
favoured 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 pot as yet broken his fast.
Having, therefore, eaten some of his roots and cheese,
and being wearied with hunting these boors, he con-
sults 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 consideration, he con-
cludes 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
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, sometimes with The bird being gone out of sight, he made reflec- This revived him quite, and recalled his hopes. "It
his beloved antelopes in their pilfering hands, at other tions on the adventure, which he judges to be a prog- is a woman," said he, "and in that chest;" when,
times barbarously hauling them by their horns with a nostic of some rebellion or revolution in Europe; going to break it open, he stops on a sudden. “What
halter, which they ought to have about their own whereupon, having recommended his native country am I going to do? How do I know the cause of her
necks. These acts of austerity provoking his anger, to the protection of Heaven, begging a continuation of being thus locked up? Though women are in a man-
and urging him on to revenge, he lifts his staff, which peace, and an end of those unhappy divisions which ner become a merchandize, yet they never are packed
on a sudden is turned into Hercules' club. Startled often prove the ruin of nations, he goes and sets down up or chested; she must be in there for a punishment,
to see that wonderful change, he stops from laying on in the memorial-book the transactions of that year, be- which in some countries is inflicted on witches." The
the intended blow. "Rescuing," said he, "my dar-ing 1689, and the fifteenth since his being in the boy, who heard a voice, calls out in French, which
ling animals, I shall lose my precious and inestimable island, which proved more fruitful in events than any Quarll not understanding, he was afraid to let him out,
peace of mind. What can atone for the life of a of the preceding.
of the preceding. The picture which he had drawn but his mentioning Christ being intelligible to him,
man?" Whilst he was making these reflections, the of the terrible sea-monster being against his wall bav-made him change his opinion. "For Christ's sake,
men got clear away with the fowls and antelopes, ing accustomed him to the frightful object that con- doth she say? That holy name witches seldom make
leaving him in deep melancholy. Thus, as he was stantly disturbed his mind, he draws that of the two use of; however, in that name I'll let her out. If she
bewailing his loss, calling to mind the agreeable pas- ruffians committing their barbarity, and hangs it by be under condemnation was I not so? Had she by
times they had often been to him, and the many auxi- the place; the idea whereof being to him more terrible Heaven been decreed to die, she would not have been
ous hours he had dispersed with their diversion, a than the preceding, he could not suffer it to be long here. At which words, with hie staff, he endeavoured
gentlewoman appeared before him, of a most agreea- in his sight, but takes it down and draws on the back to break that which he took to be the lid of the chest,
ble, yet grave countenance, dressed in plain dove- side of it the villains on a gibbet. "Now," said he, but proved to be the bottom; and as he was striking,
coloured clothes, in most places thread-bare, and in "this being what ought to be the end and explanation the boy underneath calling to him to turn it up, thrust
others patched with divers sorts of stuffs, yet genteel of the history, shall now be the right side of the his hand under the side, which he perceiving, though
and becoming. He starts at her appearing, wondering picture.”
he understood him not, stood still. Finding his mis-
what she could come for, having nothing more to lose. There happening nothing the remainder of the year take" This," said he, "is a flat-bottomed boat, such
I come not," said she, "to seek ought from thee, worthy of record, he employs it in his customary occu- as the Frenchmen used the year before, when they
but to restore what thou hast lost." He, being over-pations, as pruning and watering nis lodge and dairy, came and plundered me. Now, am I safe if I turn it
joyed at the words, looks about expecting his beloved making his mats to lie on, as also his winter-garb; up? Doubtless they are come in great numbers."
antelopes and what else the men had taken away; every day milking his antelopes and goats, making now Pausing awhile, and the lad (whom he took to be a
but, seeing nothing, he thought that vision proceeded and then butter and cheese, attending his nets, and woman) still continuing his moan, he was moved to
from vapours, which the great grief for his late loss such like necessary employments.
compassion, and having considered the boat could not
had occasioned, and falls a thinking till he was a
hold any great number, he ventures. Let what will
second time interrupted by her bidding him look her
come on it, or who will be under, for the poor woman's
in the face. "Be satisfied, be satisfied, woman,"
sake I'll relieve them; there cannot be many men.
said ho; " why, I neither know thee nor what thou
However, I'll let but one out at a time; if he be mis-
meanest."“Well, then," replied she, "I'll inform
chievous, I am able to deal with him." At this he puts
thee of both. I am Patience, whom all the world
the end of the staff where he had seen the hand, and
strive to grieve, and whom none can provoke; and
lifts it up about a foot from the ground; out of the
what I promise to restore thee is content, which thou
opening immediately creeps the boy, who on his knees
throwest away after worthless things." So she va
falls a begging and weeping, expecting death every
nishes; at which he awakes,
moment, as being the merited punishment for the
"
In the meantime the French mariners, who probably
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 anything of out of the island, were pro-
vided with hands and implements to accomplish their
design, as ropes to bind what they could get alive, and
guns to shoot what they could not come at; saws and
batchets to cut down logwood, and brazil pick-axes
and shovels to dig up orris roots, and others of worth,
•
""

380
evil purpose he came about. Quarll, who expected
there was a woman beside, fearing the gap the youth
came out at would be too uneasy for her to come
through, made motions for the boy to help him, in
order to set the boat on its bottom which he did.
Quarll, seeing the implements instead of the woman,
was as much vexed as disappointed. His countenance
changes; sometimes he looks at the things, 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 mercy in such a moving manner that
Quarll could not forbear shedding some tears; and
though the late disappointment of his proposed happi-
ness, and the sight of the preparations made for his
intended ruin, had moved him to anger against that
mercenary nation, he helped the young fellow up by
the hand; and, the night coming on apace, he takes
one of the hatchets that lay by, and gave another to
the boy, then falls a knocking the boat to pieces, and
directed him to do the same, which he accordingly
did.
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
The boat being demolished, they carried the boards
higher up on the rock, as also the rest of the things,
lest 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 either he deserved or expected, was extraordi-
narily submissive and tractable, which made Quarll
the more kind and mild; and instead of condemning
his evil attempt, he commiserated his misfortune,
and in room of resentment showed him kindness.
Thus, having given him of what he had to eat, he puts
him to bed in his lodge, wherein he lay, till he had got
his mats made up, then went to bed himself, but could
not sleep for thinking of his late disappointment, which
intercepted those pleasures 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 object, that he dreams he has her by his side;
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-
ject which could complete his happiness, with all the
softness and eloquence the most passionate love can
impress, he reaches out his arms to embrace the lovely
phantom his inclination had bred in his imagination;
but, having groped awhile, and finding nothing, he
starts out of his sleep at this most shocking disappoint
ment.
Being awaked, the late delusive pleasures called to his
mind the real, which he had formerly enjoyed, and did
then hanker after. "What is man," said he, "without
that part of himself, out of which God made him a
mate? Adam, though possessing all the world, was
still wanting, till he had a woman to keep him com-
pany." In this melancholy disposition he again falls
asleep, and dreams afresh; in which his imagination
gluts his inclination with those pleasures it so much
desired. Fruition to him is but like liquor to a man
sick of a violent fever, which only for a minute
quenches his heat, but augments the distemper, and
at last destroys the patient. Excessive love is but
short-lived; what is violent is not lasting time with
pleasure runs fast away, but dwells long with sorrow;
care weakens love, and indifferences breed discontent;
the jarrings follow which introduce Division, the mother
of Poverty.
:
These dismal accidents, incident to inconsiderate love,
coming into the amorous dreamer's mind, his great heat
being quenched, he took him to consider his condition;
and, seeing himself liable to them, is struck with such
a fear, as blots all pleasures out of his thoughts, and
fills them with dread of future cares, which he unad-
visedly 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 but
a dream; and begs pardon for having given so much
way to the concupiscence of the flosh; getting up,
though sooner than ordinary, lest he should fall asleep,
and dream again of women.
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 sing
psalms; where the youth being come, and hearing so
many 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 of his psalm, and overtook him before
he could get to the sea-side into which he certainly
would have cast himself at the fright; but Quarl),
1
who, by the boy's staring guessed his disorder, not | bed, the lodge being wanting for his antelopes against
having the benefit of the language, endeavoured to breeding-time; he adds, therefore, to his mats. His
calm him by his pleasing countenance, and prevented other provisions also wanting to be augmented, and he
his drowning himself; but could not keep off a violent having both tools and boards, out of the flat boat which
fit the fright had occasioned, which held him several he had taken to pieces, he and the lad went about
minutes.
making large boxes to salt flesh and fish in; then with
the boards that were left, they made a table for his.
dwelling that he had before, and one for his kitchen';
as also shelves in the room of those that were made of
wicker; then, having recruited his shell utensils that
were stolen the year before, he was completely fur-
nished with all manner of conveniences, and Providence
'supplying him daily with other necessaries, there was
no room left him for wishes, but for thanksgiving, which
they daily most religiously paid.
J
·
The fit being over, he and the boy took away at
divers times the remains of the chest, and of 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 destruc-
tion, shall be employed for the preservation of that
they were to destroy." Taking them to his lodge, he
sets them at each side of the door; then it 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 with them. The boy, who had lived some
time in Holland, where they used much butter, seeing
dripping employed in room thereof, thought to please
his master in making some; and as he had seen milk
and cream in the dairy arbour, wanting a churn only,
there being a small runlet lying by empty, he takes
one of the ends of it, in which, the next day, he beat
butter.
In this most happy state they lived in peace and
concord the space of ten years, unanimously doing what
was to be done, as it lay in each of their ways, without
relying on one another.
Quarll, who before, though alone and deprived of
society (the principal comfort of life), thought himself
blessed, now cannot express his happiness, there being
none in the world to be compared to it, heartily pray
ing he might find no alteration till death; but the
young man, not having met with so many disappoint-
ments in the world as he, had not quite withdrawn his
affections 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 codfish which
Quarll was dressing, he saw at a distance a ship, at
which his heart fell a panting, his pulses double their
motion; his blood grows warmer and warmner, till at
last, inflamed with desire of 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 swim-
ming. 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 gooů
from; who, having waited a considerable time, fearing
some accident would befal him, leaves his cooking and
goes to see for him; and being come at the place where
he was to get the oysters, he sees the bag and instru-
ments lie and nobody with them. Having called seve,
ral times without being answered, various racking fears
tortured his mind; sometimes he doubts he is fallen in
some hole in the rock, there being many near that
place where the oysters were; he therefore, with his
staff, which he always carried about with him when he
went abroad, at the other side of the rock grabbled in
every one round the place, and, feeling nothing, he
concludes some sea-monster had stolen 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 palate.
J
J
}
•
Having given over hopes of getting him again, he
returns home in the greatest affiiction, 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 sail beyond it, which quite altered the
motive of his former fear: "No monster," said he,
"hath devoured him; it is too plain a case that he hath
villanously left me; but what could I expect of his
son who had projected such evil against me?” So
saying, he went home, and made an end of dressing
his dinner; and afterwards hangs up the picture which
he had taken down upon his account, being the true
emblem of what he deserved; resting himself con-
tented, being but as he was before, and rather better;
since he had more conveniences, and tools to till his
ground and dig up his roots with. Having recom-
mended himself to Providence, he resumes his usual
works and recreations, resolving that no cares shall
mar his happiness for the future, being out of all those
irresistible temptations' way, in which the world
abounds, and daily lays the best men's hopes in the
dust.
Quarll, seeing the youth industrious, began to fancy
him, notwithstanding the aversion he had conceived
for his nation, ever since the ill-treatment he had
received from his countrymen; and, as speech is one
of the most necessary faculties to breed and maintain
fellowship, he took pains to teach him English.
The lad being acute and ingenious, was soon made
to undestand it, and 'in six months capable to speak
it sufficiently, so as to give his master a relation of his
late coming, and to what intent. "The men," said
he, "who about one year since, carried away hence some
antelopes, with extraordinary ducks, and several rari-
ties, which they said belonged to a monstrous English
hermit, whose hair and beard covered all his body,
having got a great deal of money by showing them,
encouraged others to come; whereupon several, join.
ing 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?"
(C
"said the boy, "to make a show of you."
"To make a show of me! Sordid wretches!' ls a
Christian then such a rarity among them? Well, and
what were the saws and hatchets for?"
-
\
-
"To cut down your house, which they intended to
make a drinking booth of."
"Oh, monstrous! what time and nature has been
fifteen years a completing, they would have ruined in
a moment: well, thanks to Providence, their evil de-
sign is averted. Pray, what is become of those sa-
crilegious persons ?"
"They are all drowned," said the boy.
"Then," replies he, "the Heavens are satisfied, and
I avenged. But how camest thou to escape? for
thou wast with them."
"No," replied the youth, "I was upon the rock
when their boat was dashed against it, and was over-
set with the same sea, under the flat-bottomed boat,
where you found me."
"That was a happy overset for thee. Well, is
there no gratitude due to Providence for thy escape?"
"Due to Providence!" said he, "why, I thought
you had saved me: I'm sure you let me out."
"Yes," replied Quarll; "but I was sent by Provi-
dence for that purpose."
"That was kindly done, too," said the boy; "well,
when I see him, I'll thank him; doth he live here-
about?"
"Poor ignorant creature!" replied Quarll; "why
Providence is everywhere. What! didst thou never
hear of Providence? What religion art thou?”
Religion!" answered the youth; "I don't know
what you mean; I'm a fisherman by trade, which my
father lived by."
66
"L
↓
"}
▼
}
4
•
1
•
1
Being again alone, the whole business of the house
lies upon his hands; he now must prune and trim his
Well," said Quarll, "did he teach thee nothing habitation, that daily harbours him, being made of fine
else? 'no prayers?"
growing plants, which yearly shoot out young branches;
"Prayers!" replied the lad; "why fishermen have this makes them grow out of shape. He must also
no time to pray; that's for them who have nothing till the ground, set and gather his pease and beans in
else to do; poor folks must work, and get money; their season, milk and feed his antelopes daily, make
that's the way of our town."
butter and cheese at proper times, dig up his roots,
"Covetous wretches! Well," said he, "I grudge fetch in fuel and water when wanted, attend his nets,
them not what they possess, since it is all the happi-go eagle-nesting, and every day dress his own victuals;
ness they aspire at; but thou shalt learn to pray, which all which necessary occupations, besides the time dedi-
will be of far more advantage to thee than work, both cated for morning and evening devotions, kept him
here and hereafter. From which time he begins to wholly employed, which made his renewed solitude less
teach him the Lord's Prayer, and the Ten Command- irksome. And, having walked all that afternoon to
ments, as also the principles of the Christian religion; divert his thoughts, admired all the way the wonderful
all which instructions the youth taking readily, won works of Nature, both in the surprising rocks which
his affection the more. He likewise taught him to surrounded the island, and in the delightful creatures,
sing psalms, which farther qualified him to be his com- and admirable plants, that are in it. Being weary with
panion in spiritual exercises, as well as in temporal oc- walking he returns home, thanking kind Providence for
cupations.
settling him in so blessed a place; and in his way calls
at his invisible choir, where having sung a thanksgiv-
Now, having company, he is obliged to enlarge his
::
+
L
0
•
Į
•
ing psalm, and his usual evening hymn, he goes to sup.
per, and then to bed, with a thoroughly contented
mind, which occasions pleasant dreams to entertain his
thoughts.
During his sleep, his fancy is delighted with being in
Nature's garden of pleasure, where none but her friends
are permitted to enter.
The place appeared very spacious, and of an admi-
rable form; full of all sorts of Nature'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..
vered with curious grass, embalmed with many differ-
ent-coloured flowers, exceeding in beauty any carpet
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, reposed together in
peace; on the trees, eagles, vultures, falcons, and
hawks, quietly perched with the turtle and the dove.
These most agreeable objects, joined with the de-
lightful noise of the fountains falling into their basons,
and the purling streams running their course, together
with the various harmonious notes of divers kinds of
singing birds, put him into an ecstasy. "Sure," said
he," this is the garden of Eden, out of which unfor-
tunate Adam was cast after his fall, as being a dwelling
only for innocence."
:
Having walked a little way, there being on every
side curious lanes, every one affording new objects 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, tube-
roses, hyacinths, and other delightful flowers, both for
sight and smell. At the end of it there was an arbour
of the same, but so beautiful that, at first sight, he
took it for a tapestry the most expert artist. had ex-
erted himself in making, to show the curiosity of trade
and greatness of his skill; in it there sat three ladies
of uncommon beauty, the middlemost, who was the
lustiest, appeared to be the eldest, being of a most
sedate countenance, a moderate number of years
having both established her judgment and settled her
features: she at her right hand seemed to be of a
weaker constitution, she had in her hand an olive-
branch bearing fruit, which, when gathered, was im-
mediately succeeded with blossoms, so that it never
was without one or the other: the lady who sat on
the left side was more jolly and gay, yet looked some-
what 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 another way,
to give him an 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 extraordinary size, strutting from animal
to animal, taking from most 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 be,
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, choosing the lion for their
director: but the watchful cock, which, whilst they
were indulging themselves, carefully made sufficient
provision to maintain what he had done, bid them all
defiance.
,
There happening a great noise of squeeling, it waked
him out of his dream; and his mind being impressed
with notions of war, it at first seized him with terror;
but, being somewhat settled, and the noise still con-
tinuing, he perceived it proceeded from the two differ-
ent kinds of monkeys in the island, which were fighting
for the wild pomegranates that the high wind had
shook off the trees the preceding 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 outside of which an old monkey
of each sort 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 such invete
rate enemies, who at other times never meet without
fighting, at that, juncture agree. so well.
:
That most surprising sign of reason in those brutes,
which, knowing his decision would compose their com-
rades' difference, came to implore it, put him upon
those reflections-" Would princes," said he, "be, but
reasonable as those which by nature are irrational, how
much blood and money might be saved!" Having
admired the uneasiness of those poor creatures, which
THE ENGLISH. HERMIT.
I
|
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 trouble, had no regard
to their separate interest, taking no notice of what he
gave them, but kept moving to-and-again with all the
tokens of uneasiness they could express, which so
moved him that he hastened to the place, where his
presence caused immediately a cessation of arms, and
each party moved a considerable distance off each
other, waiting his sharing the windfalls; which being
done, they quietly took that heap which lay next each
kind, and went to their different 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, lest
further speculation should occasion evil prognostication
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, everything keeping
its natural course, there happened nothing extraordi-
nary, each succeeding year renewing the pleasures 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, bat-
tered chests, &c., upon the rock; only transactions
and events wonderful and uncommon; and there hap-
pened a most surprising one a few days after, which,
though of no great moment, is as worthy of record as
any of far greater concern, being a wonderful effect of
Providence, manifested in a miraculous manner, though
not to be said supernatural.
One morning, when he had roasted a parcel of 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 chest to cool,
he went out to walk, leaving his door open to let
the air in.
His walk, though graced with all the agreeables
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 side of him, fine lof y
trees, of various forms and heights, clothed with
pleasant green leaves, trimmed with rich blossoms
of many colours, to divert his eye; a number of
various sorts of melodious singing-birds, perching in
their most lovely shades, as though nature had studied
to excel man's brightest imagination and exquisiteness
of art; yet all these 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 present 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 natural pleasantness of
the place, which, now, by their most lamented absence,
is become a dull memoranduin of the barbarous man-
ner in which they were ravished 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 sort, as though
made to manifest the unparalleled skill of nature, is
sent him by Providence, to dissipate his melancholy.
Being come to his lodge, and beholding that won-
derful creature, and in his own possession, at the
farthest end of it, and him at the entrance thereof to
oppose its flight, if offered, he is at once filled with joy
and admiration. "Long," said he, "I endeavoured in
vain to get one, and would have been glad of any,
though of the worst kind, and even of the meanest
sort; and here kind Providence has sent me one of
unparalleled beauty."
Having a considerable 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 within all day, in
order to tame him, which he hoped would be no diffi.
cult matter, his disposition being already pretty fami-
liar, little thinking that Providence, who sent him
hither, had already qualified him for the commission
he bore; which having found out by the creature's
docility, he returns his benefactor his most hearty
thanks for that miraculous gift.
▾
This most wonderful animal having, by its surprising
tractability and good nature, joined to its matchless
handsomeness, gained its master's love, beyond what
is usual to place on any sort of beasts, he thought
himself doubly recompensed for all his former losses,
especially for that of his late ungrateful companion,
especially for that of his late ungrateful companion,
who, notwithstanding all the obligations he held from
him, basely left him, at a time he might be most help. I
>
381
ful; and, as he fancied his dear Beau-fidelle (for so he
called that admirable creature) had some sort of re-
semblance to the picture he framed of him, he takes
it down, thinking it unjust to bear in his sight that vile
object, which could not in any wise claim a likeness to
so worthy a creature as his beloved monkey.
One day, as this lovely animal was officiating the
charge it had of its own accord taken, being gone for
wood, as wont to do when wanted, he finds in his way
a wild pomegranate, whose extraordinary size 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 inside might answer
its outward beauty, cuts its 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 into a vessel,
with a sort of herb which is of the taste and nature of
cresses, and some of the pomegranate, letting them
infuse some time, now and then stirring 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 sour.
Quarll, who very much wanted vinegar in his sauces,
was well pleased with the accident, and so continued
souring the liquor, which proving excellent, he made
a five-gallon vessel of it, having several, which at times
he found upon the rock.
Having now store of vinegar, and being a great
lover of pickles, which he had learned to make by
seeing his last wife, who was an extraordinary cook,
and made all sorts every year, calling to mind he
had often in his walks seen something like mushrooms,
he makes it his business to look for some; thus he
picked up a few, of which Beau-fidelle (who followed
him up and down) having taken notice, immediately
ranges about; and being nimbler footed than his
master, and not obliged to stoop so low, pickled double
the quantity in the same space of time; so that he
soon had enough to serve him till the next season.
His good success in making that sort of pickle en-
courages him to try another, and, having taken notice
of a plant in the wood that bears a small green flower,
which, before it is blown, looks like a caper, he gathers
a few; and their taste and flavour being no way disa-
greeable, 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 suffi-
cient quantity, with the help of his attendant, stocking
himself with two as pleasant pickles as different sorts,
but there is another 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 like-
ness is a vast help to imagination) if he could but find
anything 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 seeds;
having at last found that of a wild parsnip, which be
ing long and narrow, almost the bigness and make of a
pickling cucumber, green and crisp withal, ful' of a
small flat seed, not unlike the thing he would fain 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.
46
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.
They are," said he, "near the nature, I can make
them quite of the shape, if so be they have the same
savour. Accordingly he cuts them in long narrow
slips, and pickles some, the other part he boils; and,
there being none to contradict their taste, they passed
current for as good French beans as any that ever
grew.
21
The disappointment of having something more com-
fortable than water to drink being retrieved by pro-
ducing, in the room thereof, wherewithal to make his
eatables more delicious, he proceeds in his first pro-
spect; and, taking necessary care to prevent that acci-
dent which intercepted success in his first undertaking,
he accomplishes his design, and makes a liquor nowisc
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 rather
all motives for content, he lies down with a peaceable
mind, no care nor 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 so ter-
rible, his trust being on Providence, who at sundry
times, and in various manners, has rescued him from
death, though apparently unavoidable, being for above
thirty years miraculously protected and maintained in
a place so remote from all human help and assistance.
Yet, notwithstanding his firmness and whole trust on
Providence, he is obliged to give way to the weakness
of his nature; a strange and shocking noise is heard at
a distance in the air, which, having reached the spot
where he stood, covers it with darkness for several
minutes, at which he is so alarmed that he thinks him-
self past all hopes; till the noise being ceased, and that
382
which intercepted the light dispersed, his scared senses | to express a feeling for the loss; the trees sheď half
returning to their proper seat, and his strayed reason their virtues, and the grass withered.
recalled, he is ashamed of the weakness of his faith, and
begs pardon for his late mistrust of the continuation of
Providence's protection, who had all along given him
all imaginable reason to depend on it at all times.
Thus, having opened his door, he steps out to see if he
could discover the cause of the late most surprising
and sudden darkness, in a bright sun-shining day;
which having found out by the vast number of dead
birds of various kinds lying up and down the ground, he
was seized with no small amazement, though with less
This dull scene having lasted some time, the trees
and grass recover their former verdure, brighter than
before; the lofty oaks, which he fancied bordered the
Mall, bore fine roses in vast abundance. This addi-
tional beauty in those noble plants, already so famed
abroad for their toughness and strength, prompts peo-
ple of all nations to come and refresh themselves under
their lofty and fragrant shades.
ear.
THE ROMANČÍST AND NOVELIST'S LIBRARY.
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 with great satisfaction admired the surpris-
ing improvement of the oaks, which, to his imagination,
prognosticated prosperity to the nation, he walks on
northward, where he saw abundance of thistles, which
made him wonder they were permitted to grow in a
place where everything ought to contribute to its
agreeableness and pleasantness: but, having considered
the stoutness of the plants, which denoted their being
well rooted, he judged it impossible to clear the ground;
besides, the bees loving to settle on them, and proba-
bly sucking more honey from their blossoms than any
more agreeable or sweet-scented flower; for that rea-
son he imagined they were not gathered.
Having made reflections upon that astonishing
transaction, he can draw thence no other înference but
à prognostication of dreadful wars in Europé, from
which he begs Heaven to protect his native country:
and, lest 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 Walking back again, he meets with several noble
feathers on their breast and bellies he plucked away to men, some with a blue cordon, others with green, each
stuff a pillow for the beast, being a little too hot at with a gardening tool in his hand, going to turn up
nights for it to lie upon the bed. So having cleared and till the ground; between that where the thistles
the place, and being tired with often going up and down grew and that where the oaks stood. He was startled
the rugged rock, he stayed at home the remainder of to see those great persons, who hardly will concern
the day and at night goes to bed, but as the late omen themselves with their own lands and possessions, la-
of approaching evil had pre-occupied his thoughts in bour to improve that wherein every private person had
the day concerning his country, his mind ran upon it a share. He stood some time admiring their dexterity
in the night, dreaming he sees wives weeping and and readiness at their work, then walks on to the Mall,
melting into tears, taking their leaves of their indulgent which he found thronged with a multitude of people of
husbands, hanging, destitute of strength, about their all nations, every one having a rose in his hand, where-
necks, whose grief weighed them to the ground. Turn-with they diverted themselves as they walked.
ing from that afflicting object, he sees another ás shock- Having gazed about hini a considerable time, he had
ing; the old father, bathed in tears, embracing his a fancy to go and see how the noble gardeners went
only son, bidding him farewell, and with him all the on with their work, where being come, he finds, to his
comforts of this life and support of his age. Moving great admiration, the ground had been so wonderfully
his eyes from that they light on full as bad a sight; the well manured that the oaks and thistles had struck
tender mother swooning in her dear child's arms, whom their roots through it and met; so, growing together,
an inexorable press-gang is hauling away. Thus every had produced a plant which bore both roses and
face expressing grief for a relation or a friend, not being thistles, to everybody's wonder, which made the thistles
able any longer to behold those terrifying objects with so valued ever since that there are but few great or
which the town abounded, he betakes himself to the fine gardens which have not more or less of them.
country, that, by keeping from the afflicted he may
avoid grief.
At a distance thence, some in pursuit of their ene-
mies, hacking and cutting them down all the way be-
fore 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 objects, he finds
himself on a sudden surrounded by rustical soldiers,
holding their swords and bayonets to his breast, and
asking him, in a surly manner, "Whether high or low?"
at which, being very much startled, not knowing what
to answer, nor, indeed, what they meant, he told them
he was an Englishman, which they appearing to be
also, made him hope for better usage; but they, seiz-
ing 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 come to himself, le
concludes that his dream proceeded from his láte sur-
prise at the preceding day's astonishing transactions;
therefore, having recommended his country to Heaven's
protection, he goes about making the bed for his mon-
key, as he had concluded on before, and with some sail-
cloth makes a case, stuffing it with the feathers he had
saved for that purpose.
he made for the beast by his own bed, which very
The night being come, he lays the couching which
readily went to it, being very soft and easy.
Having quitted the town, he finds himself on a sud-
den in a place as full of terrors, where he saw streams
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 Thus, though earlier than he usually rose, he gets
smoke, confusedly moving like heaps of dust in a whirl up to set it down whilst fresh in his mind, and also the
wind, leaving behind them as they moved, vast num-year, being 1707; then takes a walk before breakfast,
bers of men and horses both dead and dying, some and the beast with him, which, being not yet récovered
without legs, others without arms, and abundance with of its late fright, keeps close to his master, every now
but one of each.
and then looking behind, as though still afraid; at
which Quarll concludes the creature must needs have
been disturbed in its sleep the night before with some
frightful dream, which made him wonder that an ani-
mal void of reason, and incapable of reflection, should
be susceptible of imagination.
And, as cares for his country had in the day oceu
pied his thoughts, his mind in the night is impressed
with the subject, though not with so dismal an idea as
the preceding, having since been diverted with such
objects as removed the terrifying aspects which before
offered themselves to his
taken up with being in St James's Park, where he had
with being in St James's where he had
formerly taken pleasure, and which he fancies had since
formerly taken pleasure, and which he fancies had since
lost many of its former agreeablenesses.
•
As he was walking, a report was raised that a certain
great person (who by his late great services to the
nation had gained a title to the palace), was just de-
ceased; having, before his death, entailed the same
upon a foreign prince of great renown. This surprising
.piece of news occasioned a sudden alteration in every
body's countenance; some looked pale with grief,
others red with wrath, but everything in nature seemed
1
-
His monkey being stattled out of his 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, differing so very
much from the preceding, both in nature and signifi-
cation.
The day being passed without any extraordinary
occurrence, he made no further remark, but followed
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, ex-
amining 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.
Quarll, 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 imagination,
which allure his whole faculties, and sets all his senses
in an uproar; his eyes are taken up with frightful ob-
jects, and his ears filled with a terrible noise, at which
the rest of his senses have lost their offices, and are
become useless.
inclined to believe that the pillow had really some in-
Being awake the next morning, he finds himself
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 several
nights successively; during which time his monkey
slept very quiet, and he as disturbed. This works a
great way towards the persuasion of what he had a
the reality of it, he lays by the pillow for three or four
strong fancy to believe; yet, to be better satisfied of
nights together; during which time both he and the
beast slept very quietly.
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 entertained with
dreams, he will once more try it, before he concludes
that it is so; thus puts it again under his head that
night, and, as it was the last experiment, it proved
--- cao
Cha, da m
also the most troublesome, fè. being at that time tët-
Also the most
tiffed with more shocking objects than the preceding,
which, though they represent fierce and bloody battles
to his imagination, yet were less terrible to him, having
not as yet discerned his native country engaged
therein, whom now he finds to be the principal party
concerned, on which all success depends, and which
cannot be sírove for without vast expenses, and irre-
trievable loss of his dear countrymen, for whom his
heart bled as plentifully as for those whom he dreamed
he saw in their goré.'
Having with terror and grief fatigued his eyes with
the most shocking and afflicting effects of war-men
and horses lying as thick upon the ground as grass in
a meadow, and streams of blood running like so 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 Victory rushing through thick clouds of obsta
cles approaching to her; which having overcome, she
settled over the army his countrymen belonged to, over
whose head she shook and flourished her colours,
pointing at approaching Peace, attended with Plenty;
but on a sudden there arose an infectious mist out of
the ground, which cramping the Englishmen's hands,
that they could no more use their conquering arms,
this fatal accident having both encouraged and strength-
ened the enemy, they fell on the unfortunate remains
of the army with unmerciful fury; who how having
lost all their support and dependence, were most cru-
elly cut to pieces; at which most dismal and afflicting
object he awaked. And though this dream was a
sufficient proof of the feathers' influence, yet he can-
not be satisfied but it must be ominous, having sc
much relation to the preceding, therefore sets it
down with them; and, for a more certain convic-
tion of what he had all cause imaginable to believe,
he is resolved to try his monkey once more the might
following; but the beast, who had not yet forgot the
uneasiness that the bed had caused him, chose to fit
on the ground; which entirely convinced Quarll that
there was a malignant quality in those feathers: where-
fore he throws them into the sea, and fills thẻ cášė
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 háď
prevented their increase, it also favoured and advanced
that of the creatures in the island, on whose young
they fed; so that the number of the wild monkeys
being considerably augmented, made their food scanty,
which caused them now and then to come and steal
somewhat out of Quarll's ground. Beau-fidelle, 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 subtle créatures to come several
together the better to be able to encounter him; which
Quarl having taken notice of, and being willing to add
a new sport to his usual diversions, he cuts a stick of
the length and bigness that the creature could manage,
which he gave him; and, taking his own staff, exer-
cises it before him, which 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
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 considerable number fell upon him, and so bit and
beat him that he lay as dead; but his master appear-
ing, whỏ, being uneasy at his extraordinary stay, was
gone to see what was the occasion thereof, put them
to fight, and they left the poor creature with just
breath enough to keep its life in, and scarce strength
sufficient to draw it:
|
QuarH being come to the place where his beloved
Beauidthe lay in a most dismal bloody condition, could
not forbear shedding tears to see him thus miserably
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, he hastens honic, and gives
him a little of the liquor he had made, which by that
time had got both body and spirit; then having laid it
upon its bed, and covered it with his winter-wrapper,
he makes a fire and warms some of the said liquor,
and fresh butter, wherewith he washes its sores; so
lays him down again, giving him all the careful attend-
ance he could during his illness, which held but one
week, at the end of which it 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 proceeded in his
memoirs 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 alá-learnest
crity, he sat down under the next cluster of trees he
came at, and, being in a dull disposition, was soon
lulled asleep at a lonesome note of a certain sort of
melancholy bird, which shuns other company (though
of its own kind) at all times but in breeding-time,
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
sujtable to his disposition of both body and mind, soon
lulled him asleep; during which he dreamed that he
saw an old man sitting in a large circle, around which
all the signs 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 in a
string, so keeps an account of the next he did begin,
and tells just sixty. Having made as many of those
strings as there were beads in each, he puts them to-
gether and begins again, to string, mixing white and
black as they came to his hand, twisting every sixtieth
string in parcels till he had made sixty of them, which
he neatly plaits together, proceeding as from the be-
ginning, and makes twenty-four of those plaits which
he weaves together, making 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
hundred and sixty-five such pieces, then lays them up
in a bundle and goes to work again, beginning to
string as at first.
6.
Having looked himself weary with seeing still the
same, of which he could make nothing, he goes away,
leaving the old gentleman stringing his beads, who,
seeing him go, lays by his work and follows him; and,
having overtaken him, asked him what he had been
looking at all that time? He being surprised at the
surly question, modestly replies, he had been admiring
THE
LA BOʻLƏ BU S J
CHAPTER I.
Exorres, King of Sicily, and his queen, the beautiful
and virtuous Hermione, once lived in the greatest har-
mony together. So happy was Leontes in the love of
this excellent lady that he had no wish ungratified, ex-
cept that he sometimes desired to see again, and to
present to his queen, his old companion and school-
fellow, Polixenes, King of Bohemia. Leontes and
Polixenes were brought up together from their infancy,
but Being by the death of their fathers called to reign
over; their respective kingdoms they had not met for
many years, though they frequently interchanged
gifts, letters, and loving embassies.
At length, after repeated invitations, Polixenes came
from Bohemia to the Sicilian court to make his friend
Léontés a visit,
At first this visit gave nothing but pleasure to
Léontés. He recommended the friend of his youth to
the queen's particular attention, and seemed in the
presence of his dear friend and old companion to have
his felicity quite completed. They talked over old
times; their school-days and their youthful pranks
were remembered and recounted to Hermione, who
ilways took a cheerful part in these conversations.
When after a long stay Polixenes was preparing to
depart Hermione, at the desire of her husband, joined
her entreaties to his that Polixenes would prolong his
visit:
•
BY
£
And now began this good queen's sorrow, for Po
lixenes refusing to stay at the request of Leontes, was
won over by Hermione's gentle and persuasive words
to put off his departure for some weeks longer. Upon
this, although Lebrites had so long known the integ
rity and honourable principles of his friend Polixones,
as well as the excellent disposition of his virtuous
queen, he was seized with an ungovernable jealousy.
Every attention Hermione showed to Polixenes, though
by her husband's particular desire, and merely to please
him, imoreased. the unfortunate king's malady; and
and
from being a loving and a true friend, and the best and
föndest of husbands, Leontes suddenly became a savage
and inhuman monster. Sending for Camillo, one of
the lords of his court, and telling him of the suspicion
he entertained he commanded him to poison Po
lixenes.
→
THE WINTER'S TALE
..
his work, in doing which he hoped there was no of-
fence. No," said the old man, "provided thou
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 mi-
dutes, which I link into hours, thus weave days where-
with years are composed. Thou hast seen me com-
plete 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
Then he awaked in a
kings' reigns," so vanished.
great surprise and goes home pondering on his dream,
of which he inferred that if there be any signification
in the roving conceptions of the mind, this must prog-
nosticate the speedy accession of some great monarch
upon the English throne; so sets down in his memo-
upon the English throne; so sets down in his memo-
tial 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 sum-
mer, and abundance of hail and snow in the winter,
with now and then storms, which left several sorts of
fishes in the clefts and holes of the rocks, and some-
times fragments of staved ships, and battered casks, or
broken chests, with a plank, and such like products of
shipwreck, not worth recording; by which means for
want of employment, he had several idle and sullen
hours in the daytime, 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 objects abroad, his mind might
be withdrawn from his anxious solitude.
Camillo was a good man, and he, well knowing that
the jealousy of Leontes had not the slightest founda
tion in truth, instead of poisoning Polixenes acquainted
him with the king his master's orders, and agreed to es-
383
Having one day perused his memorial, as he com-
monly did once a year, the dream he had in 1713,
wherein Time predicted such great happiness to his
country the year ensuing, made such an impression on
his mind that he always thought of it. Accordingly,
being walking, and the day proving extraordinarily 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 con-
ceived of his former dream represented to his imagina-
tion a most majestic and graceful monarch, sitting on
a magnificent throne, round which stood many delight-
ful olive-plants, which much added to his lustre.


The flight of Polixenes enraged the jealous Leontes
still more; he went to the queen's apartment, where
the good lady was sitting with her little son, Mamillus,
who was just beginning to tell one of his best stories
to amuse his mother, when the king entered, and,
taking the child away, sent Hermione to prison.
Mamillus, though but a very young child, loved his
mother tenderly; and when he saw her so dishonoured,
and found she was taken from him to be put into a
prison, he took it deeply to heart and drooped and
pined away by slow degrees, losing his appetite and his
sleep till it was thought his grief would kill him.
•
The king, when he had sent his queen to prison, com-
manded Cleomenes and Dion, two Sicilian lords, to go
to Delphos, there to inquire of the oracle at the tem-
ple of Apollo if his queen had been unfaithful to him.
When Hermione had been a short time in prison
she was brought to bed of a daughter, and the poor
lady received much comfort from the sight of her
pretty baby, and she said to it, "My poor little pri-
soner, I am as innocent as you are."
Hermione had a kind friend in the noble-spirited
Paulina, who was the wife of Antigonus, a Sicilian
lord; and when the Lady Paulina heard her royal
mistress was brought to bed, she went to the prison
where Hermione was confined, and she said to Emilia,
a lady who attended upon Hermione, "I pray you,
Emilia, tell the good queen if her majesty dare trust
me with her little babe, I will carry it to the king, its
father; we do not know how he may soften at the
sight of his innocent child.”
is
Most worthy madam,” replied Emilia, "I will ac-
quaint the queen with your noble offer; she was wish-
ing to-day that she had any friend who would venture
to present the child to the king.'
"And tell her," said Paulina, that I will speak
boldly to Leontes in her defence."
"
CC
May you be for ever blessed," said Emilia, "for
your kindness to our gracious queen!" Emilia then
went to Hermione, who joyfully gave up her baby to
the care of Paulina, for she had feared that no one
would dare venture to present the child to its father.
Paulina took the new-born infant and forcing herself
into the king's presence, notwithstanding her husband,
fearing the king's anger, endeavoured to prevent her,
Having with a great deal of pleasure gazed at the
most graceful countenance of the king, which denoted
justice, equity, love, and elemency; he gave Heaven
thanks for the mighty blessing bestowed on his country,
coming away in order to return to his island, with this
additional happiness to the many he already enjoyed.
Being come from court, on his journey he meets the
same old gentleman of whom he dreamed the year be-
fore, who, taking him by the hand, said--" I find that
thou hast been to see the accomplishment of my pre-
Now I will tell thee more-
diction.
WINTER'S
FROM SHAKSPEARE.
CHARLES LAM B.
<
"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 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 disappointments
and defeated projects, made to intercept what I deter-
mined." Then vanishes; at which he awaked exceed-
ing 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 con-
clusion of his records in 1724.
EDWARD DORRINGTON.
TALE.
cape
with him out of the Sicilian dominions; and Po- | she laid the babe at its father's feet, and Paulina
lixenes, with the assistance of Camillo, arrived safe in made a noble speech to the king in defence of Her-
his own kingdom of Bohemia, where Camillo lived from mione, and she reproached him severely for his inhu-
that time in the king's court, and became the chief manity, and implored him to have mercy on his inno-
friend and favourite of Polixenes.
cent wife and child. But Paulina's spirited remon-
strances only aggravated Leontes' displeasure, and he
ordered her husband, Antigonus, to take her from his
<<

presence.
When Paulina went away she left the little baby at
its father's feet, thinking when he was alone with it he
would look upon it, and have pity on its helpless in-
nocence.
The good Paulina was mistaken, for no sooner was
she
gone than the merciless father ordered Antigonus,
Paulina's husband, to take the child and carry it out
to sea, and leave it upon some desert shore to perish.
Antigonus, unlike the good Camillo, too well obeyed
the orders of Leontes, for he immediately carried the
child on ship-board and put out to sea, intending to
leave it on the first desert coast he could find.
So firmly was the king persuaded of the guilt of
Hermione, that he would not wait for the return of
Cleomenes and Dion, whom he had sent to consult the
oracle of Apollo at Delphos, but before the queen was
recovered from her lying-in, and from her grief for the
loss of her precious baby, he had her brought to a
public trial before all the lords and nobles of his court.
And when all the great lords, the judges, and all the
nobility of the land were assembled together to try
Hermione, and that unhappy queen was standing as a
prisoner before her subjects to receive their judgment,
Cleomenes and Dion entered the assembly, and pre-
isented to the king the answer of the oracle sealed up,
and Leontes commanded the seal to be broken, and the
words of the oracle to be read aloud, and these were
the words: Hermione is innocent, Polixenes blame-
less, Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jealous týrant,
and the king shall live without an heir if that which.
is lost be not found.” The king would give no credit
to the words of the oracle; he said it was a falsehood
invented by the queen's friends, and he desired the
judge to proceed in the trial of the queen; but while
Leontes was speaking, a man entered and told him
that the prince Mamillus, hearing his mother was to
be tried for her life, struck with grief and shame, had
suddenly died.
S
Hermione, upon hearing of the death of this dear
affectionate child, who had lost his life in sorrowing
for her misfortune, fainted; and Leontes, pierced to
the heart by the news, began to feel pity for his un-
THE ROMANCIST AND NOVELISt's library.
Polixenes then addressed his son
"How now,
young man!" said he, "your heart seems full of some-
thing that takes off your mind from feasting. When
I was young I used to load my love with presents, but
you have let the pedlar go and have bought your lass
no toy."
The young prince, who little thought he was talking
to the king his father, replied, "Old sir, she prizes
not such trifles; the gifts which Perdita expects from
me are locked up in my heart." Then turning to
Perdita, he said to her, "O hear me, Perdita, before
this antient gentleman, who it seems was once himself
a lover; he shall hear what I profess." Florizel then
called upon this old stranger to be a witness to a so-
lemn promise of marriage which he made to Perdita,
saying to Polixenes, "I pray you to mark our con-
tract."
384
happy queen, and he ordered Paulina, and the ladies
who were her attendants, to take her away, and use
the means for her recovery. Paulina soon returned,
and told the king that Hermione was dead.
When Leontes heard that the queen was dead, he
repented of his cruelty to her; and now that he thought |
his ill usage had broken Hermione's heart, he believed
her innocent: and he now thought the words of the
oracle were true, as he knew "if that which was lost
was not found," which he concluded was his young
daughter, he should be without an heir, the young
prince Mamillus being dead; and he would give his |
kingdom now to recover his lost daughter: and Le-
ontes gave himself up to remorse, and passed many
years in mournful thoughts and repentant grief.
The ship in which Antigonus carried the infant
princess out to sea was driven by a storm upon the
coast of Bohemia, the very kingdom of the good king
Polixenes. Here Antigonus landed, and here he left
the little baby.
Antigonus never returned to Sicily to tell Leontes
where he had left his daughter, for as he was going
back to the ship a bear came out of the woods and tore
him to pieces; a just punishment on him for obeying
the wicked order of Leontes.
The child was dressed in rich clothes and jewels; |
for Hermione had made it very fine when she sent it
to Leontes, and Antigonus had pinned a paper to its
mantle with the name of Perdita written thereon, and
words obscurely intimating its high birth and un-
toward fate.
This poor deserted baby was found by a shepherd,
He was a humane man, and so he carried the little
Perdita home to his wife, who nursed it tenderly; but
poverty tempted the shepherd to conceal the rich prize
he had found, therefore he left that part of the coun-
try, that no one might know where he got his riches;
and with part of Perdita's jewels he bought herds of
sheep, and became a wealthy shepherd. He brought
up Perdita as his own child, and she knew not she was
any other than a shepherd's daughter.
The little Perdita grew up a lovely maiden, and
though she had no better education than that of a
shepherd's daughter, yet so did the natural graces she
inherited from her royal mother shine forth in her un-
tutored mind, that no one from her behaviour would
have known that she had not been brought up in her
father's court.
Polixenes, the king of Bohemia, had an only son,
whose name was Florizel. As this young prince was
hunting near the shepherd's dwelling, he saw the old
man's supposed daughter; and the beauty, modesty,
and queen-like deportment of Perdita caused him in-
stantly to fall in love with her. He soon, under the
name of Doricles, and in the disguise of a private gen-
tleman, became a constant visitor at the old shepherd's
house.
Polixenes and Camillo, both in disguise, arrived at
the old shepherd's dwelling while they were celebrat-
ing the feast of sheep shoaring; and though they were
strangers, yet at the sheep-shearing every guest being
made welcome, they were invited to walk in and join
in the general festivity.
Nothing but mirth and jollity was going forward.
Tables were spread, and great preparations were mak-
ing for the rustic feast. Some lads and lasses were
dancing on the green before the house, while others
of the young men were buying ribbons, gloves, and
such toys, of a pedlar at the door.
While this busy scene was going forward, Florizel
and Perdita sat quietly in a retired corner, seemingly
more pleased with the conversation of each other than
desirous of engaging in the sports and silly amuse-
ments of those around them.
“Mark your divorce, young sir,” said the king, dis-
covering himself. Polixenes then reproached his son for
daring to contract himself to this low-born maiden,
calling Perdita "shepherd's brat, sheep-hook," and
other disrespectful names; and threatening, if ever she
suffered his son to see her again, he would put her
and the old shepherd her father, to a cruel death,
f
The king was so disguised that it was impossible his
son could know him; he, therefore, advanced near
enough to hear the conversation. The simple, yet,
elegant manner in which Perdita conversed with his
son did not a little surprise Polixenes. He said to
Camillo, "This is the prettiest low-born lass I ever
saw ; nothing she does or says but looks like something
greater than herself too noble for this place."
"Camillo replied, Indeed she is the very queen of
curds and cream.
The king then left them in great wrath, and ordered
Camillo to follow him with Prince Florizel.
When the king had departed, Perdita, whose royal
nature was roused by Polixenes' reproaches, said,
"Though we are all undone, I was not much afraid;
and once or twice I was about to speak, and tell him
plainly that the self-same sun which shines upon his
palace hides not his face from our cottage, but looks
on both alike." Then, sorrowfully, she said, "but
now I am awakened from this dream I will queen it
no farther: leave me, sir; I will go milk my ewes,
and weep.
The shepherd took with him the remainder of Per-
Florizel's frequent absences from court alarmed Po- dita's jewels, her baby clothes, and the paper which he
Jixenes; and setting people to watch his son, he dis-had found pinned to her mantle.
covered his love for the shepherd's fair daughter.
Polixenes then called for Camillo, the faithful Ca-
millo, who had preserved his life from the fury of
Leontes, and desired that he would accompany him to
the house of the shepherd, the supposed father of
Perdita,
"Pray, my good friend," said the king to the old
shepherd, "what fair swain is that talking with your
daughter?"—"They call him Doricles," replied the
shepherd. "He says he loves my daughter; and to
speak the truth, there is not a kiss to choose which
loves the other best. If young Doricles can get her
she shall bring him that he little dreams of:" mean-
ing the remainder of Perdita's jewels; which, after he
had bought herds of sheep with part of them he had
carefully hoarded up for her marriage-portion.
39
The kind-hearted Camillo was charmed with the
spirit and propriety of Perdita's behaviour; and per-
ceiving that the young prince was too deeply in love
to give up his mistress at the command of his royal
father, he thought of a way to befriend the lovers, and
at the same time to execute a favourite scheme he had
in his mind.
!
Camillo had long known that Leontes, the king of
Sicily, was become a true penitent; and though Ca-
millo was now the favoured friend of King Polixenes,
he could not help wishing once more to see his late
royal master and his native home. He therefore pro-
posed to Florizel and Perdita that they should accom-
pany him to the Sicilian court, where he would engage
Leontes should protect them, till through his media-
tion they could obtain pardon from Polixenes, and his
consent to their marriage.
To this proposal they joyfully agreed; and Camillo,
who conducted everything relative to their flight, al-
lowed the old shepherd to go along with them.
After a prosperous voyage, Florizel and Perdita,
Camillo and the old shepherd, arrived in safety at the
court of Leontes. Leontes, who still mourned his
dead Hermione and his lost child, received Camillo
with great kindness, and gave a cordial welcome to
Prince Florizel. But Perdita, whom Florizel intro-
duced as his princess, seemed to engross all Leontes'
attention: perceiving a resemblance between her and
his dead queen Hermione, his grief broke out afresh,
and he said, such a lovely creature might his own
daughter have been if he had not so cruelly destroyed
4
her.
“And then too," said be to Florizel, “I lost the
society and friendship of your brave father, whom I
now desire more than my life once again to look upon."
When the old shepherd heard how much notice the
king had taken of Perdita, and that he had lost a
daughter, who was exposed in infancy, he fell to com-
paring the time when he found the little Perdita, with
the manner of its exposure, the jewels and other tokens
of its high birth; from all which it was impossible for
him not to conclude that Perdita and the king's lost
daughter were the same.
finished by that rare Italian master Julio Romano
which was such a perfect resemblance of the queen,
that would his majesty be pleased to go to her house,
and look upon it, he would be almost ready to think
it was Hermione herself, Thither then they all went,
the king anxious to see the semblance of his Hermi-
one, and Perdita longing to behold what the mother
she never saw did look like.

When Paulina drew back the curtain which con-
cealed this famous statue, so perfectly did it resemble
Hermione that all the king's sorrow was renewed at
the sight for a long time he had no power to speak
or move.
"I like your silence, my liege," said Paulina; "it
the more shows your wonder. Is not this statuc very
like your queen?"
At length the king said, "O, thus she stood, even
with such majesty, when I first wooed her.
But yet,
Paulina, Hermione was not so aged as this statue
looks." Paulina replied, "So much the more the
carver's excellence, who has made the statue as Hermi-
one would have looked had she been living now. But
let me draw the curtain, sire, lest presently yon think
it moves."
The king then said, "Do not draw the curtain!
Would I were dead! See, Camillo, would you not
think it breathed? Her eye seems to have motion in
it."
"I must draw the curtain, my liege," said Pau-
lina; "you are so transported, you will persuade
yourself the statue lives."-" O, sweet Paulina," said
Leontes, "make me think so twenty years together!
Still methinks there is an air comes from her. What
fine chisel could ever yet cut breath? Let no man
mock me, for I will kiss her."-"Good my lord, for-
bear!" said Paulina; "the ruddiness upon her lip is
wet; you will stain your own with oily painting.
Shall I draw the curtain.?"-"No, not these twenty
years," said Leontes.
Perdita, who all this time had been kneeling and
beholding in silent admiration the statue of her match-
less mother, said now, "And so long could I stay
here, looking upon my dear mother."
"Either forbear this transport," said Paulina to
Leontes, "and let me draw the curtain, or prepare
yourself for more amazement. I can make the statue
move indeed; ay, and descend from off the pedestal,
and take you by the hand. But then you will think,
which I protest I am not, that I am assisted by some
wicked powers."-" What you can make her do," said
the astonished king, "I am content to look upon.
What you can make her speak, I am content to hear;
for it is as easy to make her speak as move."
Paulina then ordered some slow and solemn music,
which she had prepared for the purpose, to strike up;
and, to the amazement of all the beholders, the statue
came down from off the pedestal, and threw its arms.
around Leontes' neck. The statue then began to
speak, praying for blessings on her husband, and on
her child, the newly-found Perdita.
Florizel and Perdita, Camillo and the faithful Pau-
lina, were present when the old shepherd related to
the king the manner in which he had found the child,
and also the circumstance of Antigonus's death, he
having seen the bear seize upon him. He showed the
rich mantle in which Paulina remembered Hermione
had wrapped the child; and he produced a jewel which
she remembered Hermione had tied about Perdita's
neck; and he gave up the paper which Paulina knew
to be the writing of her husband; it could not be
doubted that Perdita was Leontes' own daughter; but
oh! the noble struggles of Paulina between sorrow
for her husband's death and joy that the oracle was
fulfilled, in the king's heir, his long lost daughter
being found. When Leontes heard that Perdita was
his daughter, the great sorrow that he felt that Her-
mione was not living to behold her child, made him
that he could say nothing for a long time but "O thy
mother, thy mother!"
Paulina interrupted this joyful yet distressful scene
with saying to Leontes that she had a statue, newly
newly
END OF THE STORY OF THE WINTER'S TALE.
4
No wonder that the statue hung upon Leontes'
neck, and blessed her husband and child; no wonder:
for the statue was indeed Hermione herself, the real,
the living queen.
Paulina had falsely reported to the king the death
of Hermione, thinking that the only means to pre-
serve her royal mistress's life; and with the good
Paulina Hermione had lived ever since, never choosing
Leontes should know she was living till she heard
Perdita was found; for though she had long forgiven
the injuries which Leontes had done to herself, she
could not pardon his cruelty to his infant daughter.
His dead queen thus restored to life, his lost daugh-
ter found, the long-sorrowing Leontes could scarcely
support the excess of his own happiness.
Nothing but congratulations and affectionate
speeches were heard on all sides. Now the delighted
parents thanked Prince Florizel for loving their lowly.
seeming daughter: and now they blessed the good old
shepherd for preserving their child. Greatly did
Camillo and Paulina rejoice that they had lived to see
so good an end of all their faithful services.
And as if nothing should be wanting to complete
this strange and unlooked-for joy, King Polixenes
himself now entered the palace.
When Polixenes first missed his son and Camillo,
knowing that Camillo had long wished to return to
Sicily, he conjectured he should find the fugitives
here; and following them with all speed, he happened
to arrive just at this the happiest moment of Leontes'
life.
Polixenes took a part in the general joy; he forgava´
his friend Leontes the unjust jealousy he had con-
ceived against him, and they once more loved each
other with all the warmth of their first boyish friend-
ship. And there was no fear that Polixenes would
now oppose his son's marriage with Perdita. She was
no "sheep-hook” now, but the heiress of the crown of
Sicily.
Thus have we seen the patient virtues of the long-
suffering Hermione rewarded. That excellent lady
lived many years with her Leontes and her Perdita,
❘ the happiest of mothers and of queens,


B
་
!
2
3
......
Je
1
}


?
1.
2.
#
St
܀
A
2