CHAP. I.

RICHARD the Grandfather of our Hero, was ennobled by James the First. He married a lovely Girl of the ancient Family of the Goodalls in the County of Surry, and, at Seven Years Dis­tance had two Sons, Richard and Henry; [Page 32]but dying early, in the Reign of Charles the First, he bequeathed £12000 to his youngest, and near £20000 annual In­come to his eldest Son; not in any perso­nal Preference to his Brother, but as one who was to support the Name and Ho­nours of the Family. He appointed his Brother in Law Executor and Guardian, who, educating the Children agreeable to their different Fortunes and Prospects in Life, in about Seven Years after the Death of their Father, sent Richard with a Tutor to take the Tour of Europe, and bound Henry Apprentice to a considerable London Merchant.

During the Travels of the One and the Apprenticeship of the Other, the Troubles happened, and Cromwell assum'd the Re­gency; before the Fortune of the More­lands could be forfeited or endangered, by siding with the Crown or the Common­wealth.

Richard return'd to England a short time before the Restoration; and being too gay and too dissolute for the Plodding and Hy­pocricy of Cromwell and his Fanaticks, he withdrew to the Mansion House of his Forefathers.

On his Landing he had inquired for his Brother Henry; but hearing that he was [Page 33]lately married, and wholely absorbed in Matters of Merchandise, as he had the ut­most Contempt for all Cits and Traders, he took no further Notice of him.

In the Country, he amused himself with his Bottle, Hounds, Hawks, Race Horses, &c. and in debauching the Persons of the neighbouring Wenches, and corrupting the Morals of the Neighbouring Squires. But, on the Restoration of his Majesty, of pleasurable Memory, he hastened to Court, where he rolled away and shone as in his native Sphere. He was always of the Party of the King, Rochester, &c. where Virtue was laughed out of Countenance, and where all Manner of Dissoluteness became amiable and recommendable by the Bursts of Merriment and Zest of Wit. But toward the latter End of this droll Reign, Earl Richard, being advanced in Age, and being still older in Constitution than Years, began to think of providing an Heir to his Estate; and, as he had ta­ken vast Pains to impair it, he married a Citizen's Daughter who wanted a Title, and with her got a Portion of one hundred thousand Pounds, which was equally want­ing on his Part.

With his Lady he, again, retreated to the Country, where, in less than a Year, [Page 34]she made him the exulting Father of a fine Boy; whom he called Richard.

Richard, speedily, became the sole Cen­tre of all his Mother's Solicitudes and Af­fections. And though, within the Space of the two succeeding Years, she was deliver­ed of a second Boy, yet, as his infant As­pect was less promising and more unform­ed than his Brother's, she sent him forth to be nursed by the robust Wife of a neighbouring Farmer, where, for the Space of upward of four Years, he was honoured with no Token from Father or Mother, save some casual Messages, to know from time to time if the Child was in Health.

This Boy was called Henry, after his Uncle by the Father's Side. The Earl had lately sent, to London, to make Enquiry after his Brother, but could learn no Manner of Tidings concerning him.

Mean while, the Education of the two Children was extremely contrasted. Ri­chard, who was already entitled my little Lord, was not permitted to breathe the Rudeness of the Wind. On his lightest Indisposition the whole House was in Alarms; his Passions had full Scope in all their infant Irregularities; his Genius was put into a Hot Bed, by the Warmth of [Page 35]Applauses given to every Flight of his opening Fancy; and the whole Family con­spired, from the Highest to the Lowest, to the Ruin of promising Talents and a be­nevolent Heart.

Young Harry, on the other Hand, had every Member as well as Feature exposed to all Weathers, would run about, Mo­ther-naked for near an Hour, in a frosty Morning; was neither physicked into De­licacy, nor flattered into Pride; scarce felt the Convenience, and, much less under­stood the Vanity of Clothing; and was daily occupied, in playing and wrestling with the Pigs and two mungril Spaniels on the Dunghil; or in kissing, scratching, or boxing with the Children of the Village.

When Harry had passed his fifth Year, his Father, on a festival Day, humbly pro­posed to send for him to his Nurses, in or­der to observe how the Boy might turn out, and my Lady, in a Fit of good Humour, assented. Nurse, accordingly, deck'd him out in his holiday Petticoats, and walked with our Hero to the great House, as they called it.

A brilliant Concourse of the neighbour­ing Gentry were met in a vast Parlour, [Page 36]that appeared to be executed after the Model of Westminster Hall.

There was Sir Christopher Cloudy, who knew much but said nothing; with his very conversable Lady, who scarce knew by halves, but spoke by wholesale. In the same Range was Sir Standish Stately, who in all Companies held the first Place, in his own Esteem. Next to him sat Lady Childish; it was at least thirty Years since those Follies might have become her which appeared so very ridiculous at the Age of fifty-five. By her Side were the two Stiltons, a blind Man would swear that the One was a Clown, and the Other a Gentleman, by the Tones of their Voices. Next to these were two Pair of very ill mated Turtles; Mr. Gentle, who sacrificed his fine Sense and affluent Fortune to the Vanity and bad Temper of a silly and tur­bulent Wife; and Squire Sulky, a brutal Fool, who tyranized over the most sensi­ble and most amiable of her Sex.

On the opposite Side was Lord Prim, who evidently labour'd hard to be easy in Conversation; and next to him was Lord Flippant who spoke Nonsense with great fa­cility. By his Side sat the fair but de­jected Miss Willow, she had lately disco­vered what a Misfortune it was to be born to Wit, Beauty, and Affluence, the three [Page 37]capital Qualifications that lead the Sex to Calamity. Next to her was Colonel Jolly, with a Heart ever tuned to Merriment and Lungs to Laughter; had he known how to time his Fits, the Laugh might have grown catching. Below him was seated Mrs. Mirror a Widow Lady, industriously ac­complished in the Faults of People of Fashion. And below her sat the beloved and respected Mr. Meekly, who always sought to hide behind the Merits of the Company. Next to him was Major Settle, no one spoke with more Importance on things of no Signification. And beside him sat Miss Lovely, who looked Sentiment, and, while she was silent, inspired others with Sense and Virtue.

These were the principal Characters. The Rest could not be said to be of any Character at all. The Cloth had been lately removed, and a Host of Glasses and Decanters glow'd on the Table, when in comes young Harry escorted by his Nurse.

All the Eyes of the Company were, in­stantly, drawn upon him, but he advanc­ed, with a vacant and unobserving Phi­siognimy, and thought no higher of the Assembly than as of so many Peasants at a Country Wake.

[Page 38] Dicky, my Dear, says my Lady, go and welcome your Brother, whereat Dick went up, took Harry by the Hand, and kissed him with much Affection. Harry there­upon having eyed his Brother, I don't know You, said he, bluntly, but, at the same time held up his little Mouth to kiss him again.

Dick, says my Lady, put your laced Hat upon Harry, till we see how it becomes him, which he immediately did; but Harry, feeling an unusual Incumbrance on his Head, took off the Hat, and having for some time looked contemptuously at it, he cast it from him with a sudden and agile Jerk, as he used to cast flat Stones, in order to make Ducks and Drakes in the Mill Pond. The Hat took the Glasl­es and Decanters in full Carrier, smash go the Glasses, abroad pours the Wine on circling Laces, Dresden Aprons, silver'd Silks, and rich Brocades; female Screams fill the Parlour, the Rout is equal to the Uproar, and it was long ere most of them could be composed to their Places.

In the mean while, Harry took no kind of Interest in their Outcries or Distresses, but spying a large Spanish Pointer that, just then came from under the Table, he sprung at him like Lightning, seized him [Page 39]by the Collar, and vaulted on his Back with inconceivable Agility. The Dog, wholly disconcerted by so unacustomed a Burden, capered and plunged about in a violent Manner, but Harry was a better Horseman than to be so easily dismounted; whereon the Dog grew outragious, and rushing into a Group of little Misses and Masters, the Children of the Visitants, he overthrew them like Ninepins; thence proceeding, with equal Rapidity, between the Legs of Mrs. Dowdy, a very fat and el­derly Lady, she instantly fell backward with a violent Shriek, and, in her Fall, unfortunately overthrew Frank the Fox­hunter, who overthrew Andrew the An­gler, who overthrew Bob the Beau, who closed the Catastrophe.

Our Hero, mean Time, was happily dismounted by the intercepting Petticoats, and fairly laid, without Damage, in the fallen Lady's Lap. From thence he arose at his Leisure, and strolled about the Room, with as unconcerned an Aspect as if nothing had happen'd amiss, and as tho' he had neither Act nor Part in this fright­ful Discomfiture.

When Matters were once more, in some Measure set to Rights, my Heavens! ex­claimed my Lady, I shall faint, the Boy is positively an Ideot, he has no Appre­hension [Page 40]Conception of Persons or Things. Come hither, Sirrah, she cried with an an­gry Tone; but, instead of complying, Harry cast on her a Look of Resentment and sidled over toward his Nurse. Dicky, my Dear, said my Lady, go and pretend to beat his Foster Mother, that we may try if the Child has any kind of Ideas. Here, her Ladyship, by ill Fortune, was as much unadvised, as her Favourite was unhappy in the Execution of her Orders, for while Dick struck at the Nurse with a counterfeited Passion, Harry, instantly, reddened, and gave his Brother such a sudden. Pash in the Face, that his Nose and Mouth gushed out with Blood. Dick set up the Roar, my Lady screamed out, and rising and running at Harry with all imaginable Fury, she caught him up, as a Falcon would truss a Robin; turned over his Petticoats, and chastised him with all the Violence of which her Delicacy was capable. Our Hero, however, neither ut­tered Cry or Tear, but, being set down, he turned round on the Company an Eye of Indignation, then cried, come away, Mammy, and issued from the Assembly.

Harry had scarce made his Exit when his Mother exclaimed after him, Ay, ay, take him away Nurse, take him away, the little Devil, and never let me see his Face more.

[Page 41] I shall not detain my Readers with a tedious Detail of the many and differing Opinions that the remaining Company ex­pressed with regard to our Hero; let it suffice to observe that they generally a­greed that, tho' the Boy did not appear to be endowed by Nature, with a single Faculty of the Animal rationale, he might, nevertheless, be rendered capable in Time, of many Places of very honourable and lucrative Employment.

Mr. Meekly, alone, though so gentle and complying at other Times, now pre­sumed to dissent from the Sense of the Com­pany. I rather hold, said he, that this In­fant is the Promise of the greatest Philoso­pher and Hero that our Age is likely to produce. By refusing his Respect to those superficial Distinctions, which Fashion has inadequately substituted as Expressions of human Greatness, he approves himself the Philosopher; and, by the Quickness of his Feelings for injured Innocence, and his Boldness in defending those to whom his Heart is attached, he approves himself at once the Hero and the Man.

Harry had now remained six Months more with his Nurse, engaged in his cus­tomary Exercises and Occupations. He was already, by his Courage, his Strength, [Page 42]and Action, become tremendous to all the little Boys of the Village, they had all Things to fear from his sudden Resent­ment, but, nothing from his Memory or Recollection of a Wrong, and this also was imputed to his native Stupidity. The two mungril Dogs were his inse­parable Play-fellows, they were all tied together in the strictest Bonds of Friend­ship, and caressed each other with the most warm and unfeigned Affection.

On a Summer's Day as he strolled forth with these his faithful Attendants, and rambled into a Park whose Gate he saw open, he perceived in a little Copse that bordered on a Fishpond, a Stranger seated on a Bench of Turf. Harry drew near with his usual Intrepidity, till he ob­served that the Man had a reverend Beard that spread over his Breast, that he held something in his Hand on which he gazed with a fixed Attention, and that the Tears rolled down his Cheeks, without ceasing, and in Silence, except the half suppress'd Sobs that often broke from his Bosom. Harry stood, awhile, immoveable, his lit­tle Heart was affected, he approached the old Man with a gentle Reverence, and looking up in his Face, and seating him­self by his Side, the Muscles of his Infant Aspect began to relax, and he wept and sob'd as fast as his Companion.

[Page 43] Friend.—Pray, who is this ancient Stranger? I have a great Curiosity to know. Is he necessary to your Story, is he to have any future Connection with the Child? How came he by the long Beard? Beards were not the Fashion in those Days. There must be some extraordinary Reason for it, if there is any Reason at all. Is his Story long, do you begin up­on it directly? It is a great fault in Au­thors to hold their Readers in Suspence; our Curiosity grows languid; twenty to one it is vanished, before you begin to give it any Kind of Satisfaction. Who in the World is he, what Business has he here?

Author.—Sir, you see he is a Stranger; I have mentioned him as such. If he chuses to continue so, for some Time lon­ger, I know of no right that I have to discover him. Perhaps I am the only Person breathing whom he has entrusted with the Secret of his Affairs; I am upon Honour not to betray him; you must par­don me—pray proceeed.

CHAP. II.

THE old Gentleman turned and gaz­ed at the Child, as on some sudden Apparition. His Tears stopped. He re­turned the Picture, which he held, into his Bosom. And, lifting up his Eyes, Great Power, he cried, is this the One, of all the World, who has any Feelings for me? Is it this Babe, this Suckling, whom thou hast sent, to be a Partaker in my Griess, and the Sharer of my Afflicti­ons? Welcome, then, my little Friend, said he, tenderly turning and caressing the Child, I will live the longer for thy Sake, and endeavour to repay the Tears thou hast shed in my Behalf.

The Language of true Love is under­stood by all Creatures, and was that of which Harry had, almost, the only Per­ception. He returned his Friend's Caresses with unaffected Ardour, and no Two could be more highly gratified in the En­dearments of each Other.

What is your Name, my Dear? said the old Gentleman. Harry Clinton, Sir. Harry Clinton! repeated the Old Man, and started. And pray who is your Fa­ther? the Child, then looking tenderly at [Page 45]him, replied; I'll have you for a Father, if you please, Sir. The Stranger, then caught him up in his Arms, and passio­nately exclaim'd, You shall, you shall, my Darling, for the tenderest of Fathers, ne­ver to be torn asunder, till Death shall part us.

Then asking him where he lived, and Harry pointing to the Town before them, they both got up and went towards it. Our Hero was now again all Glee, all Action; he sprung from and to his Friend, and play'd and gambol'd about him, like a young Spaniel in a Morning, just loos'd from his Chain, and admitted to accompany his Master to the Field. As his two Dogs frisked about him, he would now mount upon One, then bound upon t'other, and each pranced and pa­raded under him as delighted with the Burden. The old Gentleman beheld all with a Pleasure that had long been a Stran­ger to his Breast, and shared in the Joys of his young Associate.

Being arrived near the Farm House, Nurse, who stood at the Door, saw them approaching, and cried out, Gaffer, Gaffer, here comes our Harry with the dumb Gentleman. When they were come up. Good People, says the Stranger, is this your Child! no, no, Sir, answered the [Page 46]Nurse, we are but his Fosterers. And, pray, who is his Father? He is second Son, Sir, to the Earl of Moreland. The Earl of Moreland! you amaze me greatly, is this all the Notice and Care they take of such a Treasure? Sir, replied the Nurse, they never sent for him but once; they don't mind him, they take him for a Fool. For a Fool? cried he, and shook his Head in Token of Dissent. I am sure he has the wisest of all human Hearts. I wish it may beso, Sir, said the Nurse, but he behav­ed very sadly, some Time ago, at the great House. She then made a Recital of all our young Hero's Adventures in the Mansion-Parlour; whereat the old Gen­tleman inwardly chuckled, and, for the first Time, of some Years, permitted his Features to relax into a Smile of Chear­fulness.

Nurse, said he, every Thing that I hear and see of this Child serves the more to endear and bind me to him. Pray, be so good as to accompany us to my House, we will try to equip him better both as to Person and Understanding.

As this Stranger's Seat made Part of the Village, they were soon there. He first whispered his old Domestic, who, then, looked upon the Child with Surprise and Pleasure. The Footman was next sent to [Page 47]bring the Taylor, and some light Stuffs from the Town Shop. Matters being thus dis­patched, with respect to our Hero's first Coat and Britches, Nurse was kept to Dinner; and after this Gentleman had entertained his young Guest with a Variety of little Tricks, childish Plays, and other-Fooleries; toward Evening, he dismissed him and his Nurse, with a Request that she would send him every Day, and a Promise that he should be returned every Night if she desired it.

Harry, being thus furnished with the external Tokens of a Man Child, having been born into the World, became an in­separable Friend and Play-fellow to his Patron. At Times of Relaxation, the old Gentleman, with the most winning and insinuating Address, endeavoured to open his Mind and cultivate his Morals, by a thousand little Fables, such as of bold Sparrows, and naughty Kids, that were carried away by the Hawk, or devoured by the Wolf, and of good Robbins, and innocent Lambs, that the very Hawks and Wolves, themselves, were fond of. For he never proposed any Encouragement or Re­ward to the Heart of our Hero, save that of the Love and Approbation of Others. At the Times of such Instruction, Harry, who knew no other Dependence, and beheld his Patron as his Father and as his God, would hang upon his Knee, look up to his [Page 48]Face, delighted, and greedily imbibe the Sweetness of those Lessons whose Impressi­ons neither Age, nor any Occurrence, could ever after erase; so prevalent are the Dictates of Lips that are beloved.

At other Times, the Stranger would enter, with our Hero, into all his little Frolicks and childish Vagaries, would run and wrestle with him, ride the Rods, roll down the Slope, and never felt such sweet Sensations and inward Delight, as when he was engaged in such Recreations.

There was a Cock at Harry's Nurses, the Lord of the Dunghill, between whom and our Hero a very particular Intimacy and Friendship had been contracted. Harry's Hand was his daily Caterer; and Dick, for the Cock was so called, would hop into the Child's Lap and pick his Cloaths, and rub his Feathers against him, and court Harry to tickle and stroak and play with him.

Upon a Shrove-Tuesday, while Harry was on his Road, from his Patron's, in­tending a short Visit to his Nurse and Fos­ter Father, a Lad came to their Door and offer'd Gaffer a double Price for Dick; the Bargain was quickly made, the Lad bore off his Prize in Triumph, and Gaffer with­drew to the manuring of a back Field. Just at that Crisis Harry came up, and [Page 49]enquired of the Maid for his Daddy and Mammy, but was answered that neither of them was within. He then asked after his favourite Cock, but was told that his Daddy had, that Minute, sold him to yonder Man who was almost out of Sight.

Away sprung our Hero, like an Arrow from a Bow, and held the Man in View till he saw him enter a great Croud, at the upper end of the Street. Up he comes, at last, quite out of Breath, and making way through the Assembly, per­ceived his Cock, at some Distance, tied to a short Stake, and a Lad preparing to throw at him with a Stick. Forward he rushed, again, and stopped resolutely be­fore his Bird, to ward the Blow with his own Person, at the Instant that the Stick had taken its Flight, and that all the Peo­ple cry'd out, hold! hold! One End of the Stick took Harry in the left Shoulder, and bruised him sorely; but, not regarding that, he instantly stooped, delivered his captive Favourite, whipt him under his Arm, caught up the Stick, flourish'd it, as in Defiance of all Opponents, made Homeward thro' the Croud, and was fol­lowed by the Acclamations of the whole Assemby.

The old Gentleman was standing before his Court Door when his Favourite arriv­ed, [Page 50]all in a Sweat; what's the Matter, my Dear, says he, what made you put your­self into such a Heat? what Cock is that you have under your Arm? In answer to these several Questions Harry ingenuously confessed the whole Affair. And, when his Patron with some Warmth, cried, why, my Love, did you venture your Life for a silly Cock? why did I? repeated the Child, why Sir, because he loved me. The Stranger, then, stepping back and gazing upon him with Eyes of tender Admirati­on; may Heaven for ever bless thee, my little Angel, he exclaimed, and continue to utter from thy Lips the Sentiments that it Inspires. Then, catching him up in his Arms, he bathed him with his Tears, and almost, stifled him with his Caresses.

In a few Days, our Hero was again restored, by frequent Fomentations, to the Use of his Arm; and his Dada, as he called him, and he returned to their old Recreations.

As Harry's Ideas began to open and expand, he grew ambitious of greater Power and Knowledge. He wished for the Strength of that Bull, and for the Swiftness of yonder Horse. And, on the Close of a solemn and serene Summer's Evening, while he and his Patron walked [Page 51]in the Garden, he wished for Wings that he might fly up and see what the Sky, and the Stars, and the rising Moon were made of.

In order to reform this Inordinacy of his Desires, his Patron addressed him in the following Manner.

I will tell you a Story, my Harry. On the other Side of yonder Hill there runs a mighty clear River, and in that River, on a Time, there lived three silver Trouts, the prettiest little Fishes that any one ever saw. Now God took a great liking and love to these pretty silver Trouts, and he let them want for nothing that such little Fishes could have occasion for. But two of them grew sad and discontented; and the One wished for this Thing, and the Other wished for that Thing, and neither of them could take Pleasure in any Thing that they had, because they were always longing for something that they had not.

Now, Harry, you must know that all this was very naughty in those two little Trouts; for God had been exceedingly kind to them; he had given them every Thing that was fittest for them; and he never grudged them any Thing that was for their Good; but instead of thanking him for all his Care and his Kindness, they [Page 52]blamed him, in their own Minds, for re­fusing them any Thing that their silly Fancies were set upon. In short there was no End of their wishing, and longing, and quarrelling, in their Hearts, for this Thing and t'other.

At last, God was so provoked, that he resolved to punish their Naughtiness by granting their Desires, and to make the Folly of those two little stubborn Trouts an Example to all the foolish Fish in the whole World.

For this Purpose, he called out to the three little silver Trouts, and told them they should have whatever they wished for.

Now, the Eldest of these Trouts was a very proud little Fish, and wanted, for­sooth, to be set up above all other little Fishes. May it please your Greatness, says he, I must be free to tell you that I do not, at all, like the Way in which you have placed me. Here you have put me into a poor, narrow, and troublesome Ri­ver, where I am straitened on the right Side, and straitened on the left Side and can neither get down into the Ground, nor up into the Air, nor go where, nor do any one Thing I have a mind to. I am not so blind, for all, but that I can see, well [Page 53]enough, how mighty kind and bountiful you can be to Others. There are your favourite little Birds, who fly this Way and that Way, and mount up to the very Heavens; and do whatever they please, and have every Thing at Command, be­cause you have given them Wings. Give me such Wings, also, as you have given to them, and then I will have something for which I ought to thank you.

No sooner ask than have. He felt the Wings he wished for growing from either Side, and, in a Minute, he spread them abroad, and rose out of the Water. At first he felt a wonderful Pleasure in finding himself able to fly. He mounted high in­to the Air, above the very Clouds, and he looked down with Scorn on all the Fishes in the World.

He now resolved to travel, and to take his Diversion far and wide. He flew over Rivers, and Meadows, and Woods, and Mountains; till, growing faint with Hun­ger and Thirst, his Wings began to fail him, and he thought it best to come down to get some Refreshment.

The little Fool did not consider that he was now in a strange Country, and many a Mile from the sweet River, where he was born and bred, and had received all [Page 54]his Nourishment. So, when he came down, he happened to alight among dry Sands and Rocks, where there was not a Bit to eat, nor a Drop of Water to drink; and so there he lay faint and tired, and unable to rise, gasping, and fluttering, and beating himself against the Stones, till at length he died in great Pain and Misery.

Now, the second silver Trout, though he was not so high minded as the first little proud Trout, yet he did not want for Conceit enough, and he was moreover a narrow hearted and very selfish little Trout, and, provided he himself was snug and safe, he did not care what became of all the Fishes in the World. So he says to God:

May it please your Honour. I don't wish, not I, for Wings to fly out of the Water, and to ramble into strange Places, where I don't know what may become of me. I lived contented and happy enough, till the other Day, when, as I got under a cool Bank from the Heat of the Sun, I saw a great Rope coming down into the Water, and it fastened itself, I don't know how, about the Gills of a little Fish that was basking beside me, and he was lifted out of the Water, struggling and working in great Pain, till he was carried, I know not where, quite out of my Sight. So, I [Page 55]thought in my own Mind, that this Evil, some Time or other, may happen to my­self, and my Heart trembled within me, and I have been very sad and discontented ever since. Now, all I desire of you, is, that you would tell me the Meaning of this, and of all the other Dangers to which you have subjected us poor little mortal Fishes; for then I shall have Sense enough to take care of my own Safety, and I am very well able to provide for my own Liv­ing, I warrant you.

No sooner said than done. God imme­diately opened his Understanding; and he knew the Nature and Meaning of Snares, Nets, Hooks, and Lines, and of all the Dangers to which such little Trouts could be liable.

At first he greatly rejoiced in this his Knowledge; and he said to himself, now surely I shall be the happiest of all Fishes; for, as I understand and am forewarned of every Mischief that can come near me, I'm sure I love myself too well not to keep out of Harm's way.

From this Time forward, he took Care not to go into any deep Holes, for fear that a Pike, or some other huge Fish might be there, who would make nothing of swallowing him up at one Gulph. He [Page 56]also kept away from the shallow Places, especially in hot Weather, left the Sun should dry them up and not leave him Water enough to swim in. When he saw the Shadow of a Cloud coming and mov­ing upon the River, a ha! said he to him­self, here are the Fishermen with their Nets, and immediately he got on one Side and skulked under the Banks, where he kept trembling in his Skin, till the Cloud was past. Again when he saw a Fly skimming on the Water, or a Worm coming down the Stream, he did not dare to bite, however hungry he might be; no no, said he to them, my honest Friends, I am not such a Fool as that comes to neither; go your ways and tempt those who know no better, who are not aware that you may serve as Baits to some trea­cherous Hook, that lies hid for the De­struction of those ignorant and silly Trouts that are not on their Guard.

Thus, this over careful Trout kept himself in continual Frights and Alarms, and could neither eat, nor drink, nor sleep in Peace, lest some Mischief should be at Hand, or that he might be taken napping. He daily grew poorer, and poorer, and sadder, and sadder, for he pined away with Hunger, and sigh'd him­self to Skin and Bone; till, wasted almost to nothing with Care and Melancholy, he [Page 57]at last died, for fear of dying, the most miserable of all Deaths.

Now, when God came to the youngest silver Trout, and asked him what he wished for. Alas (said this darling little Trout) you know, may it please your Worship, that I am but a very foolish and good for nothing little Fish; and I don't know, not I, what is good for me or what is bad for me; and I wonder how I came to be worth bringing into the World, or what you could see in me to take any thought about me. But, if I must wish for something, it is that you would do with me whatsoever you think best; and that I should be pleased to live, or die, even just as you would have me.

Now, as soon as this precious Trout made this Prayer in his good and his humble little Heart, God took such a Liking and a Love to him, as the like was never known. And God found it in his own Heart, that he could not but take great Care of this sweet little Trout, who had trusted himself so wholely to his Love and good Pleasure, and God went where­soever he went, and was always with him and about him, and was to him as a Fa­ther and Friend and Companion; and he put Contentment into his Mind and Joy [Page 58]into his Heart; and so this little Trout slept always in Peace, and wakened in Gladness; and whether he was full or hungry, or whatever happened to him, he was still pleas'd and thankful; and he was the happiest of all Fishes that ever swam in any Water.

Harry at the Close of this Fable, looked down and grew thoughtful, and his Pa­tron left him to himself to ruminate on what he had heard Now, Harry had often heard talk of God, and had some general though confused Notions of his Power.

The next Day, he requested his Patron to repeat the Story of the Three little sil­ver Trouts. When he had ended, Dada, says Harry, I believe I begin to guess a little at what you mean. You wouldn't have me wish for any Thing, but leave every Thing to God; and, if I thought that God loved me, half as well as you love, me, I would leave every Thing to him­self, like the good little Trout. He does, my Harry, he loves you a thousand Times better than I love you, nay a thousand Times better than you love yourself. God is all Love; it is he who made every Thing, and he loves every Thing that he has made. Ay, but Dada, I can't, for the Heart of me help pitying the two poor [Page 59]little naughty Trouts. If God loves every Thing, why did he make any Thing to dye? You begin to think too deeply, Harry; we will speak more of these Matters ano­ther Time. For the present, let it suffice to know that, as he can kill, he can also make alive, again, at his own Pleasure.

Harry had now remained about twelve Months with his Patron, when it was in­timated to the Earl and his Lady that the dumb Man had taken a Fancy to their Child, and, that he was almost constantly, resident at his House. Alarmed at this News, and apprehending that this Man might be some Impostor or Kidnapper, they, once more, sent Orders to the Nurse to bring the Boy home.

Nurse run in a Hurry to the Stranger's, and, having informed him of the Necessity she was under to take away the Child, many mutual Tears were shed at Parting; but Harry was the sooner pacified when Nurse told him that it was but for a short Visit, as before.

When they came to the Castle, there was no Company in the Parlour, but the Earl and his Lady, with Lord Richard and some other Masters of Quality, about his Age and Size. Harry, however looked about with a Brow of Disgust; and, when [Page 60]my Lady desired him to come and kiss her, maybe you'll whip me, he answer'd sullenly; No, she replied, if you don't strike your Brother Dicky any more. I won't beat him, says Harry, if he won't beat Mammy. Come then and kiss me, my Dear, said my Lady, whereon Harry advanced with a slow Caution, and held up his little Mouth to receive her Salute. He was then kiss'd by his Father, his Brother, and the little Masters, and all Things promised future Reconcilement and Amity.

A Number of glittering Toys were then presented to Harry on all Sides; he receiv­ed them, indeed, in good Part, but laid them all aside again as Things of whose Use he yet was not wise enough to be ap­prehensive.

Is it not too early for your Hero to shew a Contempt of Toys?

My Lady, as you will see, im­puted it to his Folly, not to his Philosophy.

But Children have a natural Fond­ness for fine Things.

How so, is there a natural Value in them?

[Page 61]

No. But—

Education, indeed, has made the Fondness next to natural. The Coral and Bells, teach Infants, on the Breast, to be delighted with Sound and Glitter. Has the Child of an Inhabitant of Monomotapa a natural Fondness for Garbage?

I think not.

But, when he is instructed to prize them, and sees that it is the Fashion to be adorned with such Things, he prefers them to the Glister of Gold and Pearl. Tell me, was it the Folly, or Philosophy, of the Cock in the Fable, that spurned the Diamond and wished for the Barley Corn?

The Moral says it was his Folly, that did not know how to make a right Estimate of Things.

A wiser Moral would say it was his Philosophy, that did know how to make a right Estimate of Things; for, of what Use could the Diamond be to the Cock? In the Age of Acorns, antecedent to Ceres and the royal Ploughman Tripto­lemus, a single Barley Corn had been of more Value, to Mankind, than all the [Page 62]Diamonds that glowed in the Mines of India.

You see, however, that Age, Re­flection, and Philosophy can hardly wean People from their early Fondness for Shew.

I see, on the contrary, that the old­er they grow, and the wiser they think themselves, the more they become attach­ed to Trifles. What would you think of a sage Minister of State, who should make it the utmost Height of his Wishes and Ambition to be mounted on a Hobby­horse?

You can't be serious, for the Soul of you.

It has been seriously, and truly, and literally the Fact. For, Haman being asked, by the greatest Monarch upon Earth, what should be done most desirable for the Man whom the King delighted to Honour? He answered (in the Persuasion that he himself was the Person) Let the royal Apparel be brought and let him be ar­rayed therewith, and let him be put upon the Horse that the King useth to ride, and let him be brought through the Street, and have it proclaimed before him, thus shall it be done to the Man whom the King delighteth to Ho­nour. What shall we say here? could the [Page 63]sage and ambitious Haman think of no­thing better than what would have suited the request of a Child of five Years old? Or was it that the Emperor of Asia, or this World itself, had nothing more valu­able to bestow than a fine Coat and a Hobbyhorse?

How many Volumes do you expect this Work will contain?

Sir, a Book may be compared to the Life of your Neighbour. If it be good, it cannot last too long; if bad, you cannot get rid of it too early.

But, how long, I say, do you pro­pose to make your Story?

My good Friend, the Reader may make it as short as he pleases.

CHAP. III.

MY Lady piqued thereat, told the Earl that she resolved, once more to prove the Wits of the Youngster in Britches; and whispering to Dicky, he im­mediately went out and took with him his Companions. Soon after, Dick returns without his Shoes, but with a pitiful Face, and cries, Brother Harry honey, I want a Pair of Shoes sadly, will you give me Your's? Yes, I will, said Harry, and in­stantly strips and presents them to him. Then entered another Boy and demanded his Stockings, in the like petitioning man­ner; another beg'd his Hat, another his Coat, another his Waistcoat, all of which he bestow'd without Hesitation. But, when the last Boy came in and petitioned for his Shirt; no, I won't, said Harry, a little moody, I want a Shirt myself. My Lady then exclaimed, upon my Conscience, there is but the Thickness of a bit of Linen be­tween this Child and a down right Fool. But my Lord rose up, took Harry in his Arms, and having tenderly embraced him, God bless thee, my Boy, he cried, and make thee an Honour to old England.

Dinner, soon after, was ordered up, and Harry permitted his Nurse to retire peace­ably [Page 65]to the Kitchen, during the Interval, as he and all the Masters were then on Terms of Amity.

My Lady placed Harry, next herself, at Table, but no Peer ever payed such a Price at Pontac's, as our distressed Hero did that Day for his Ordinary. For he must sit up just so, and hold his Knife and Fork just so, and cut his Meat, and open his Mouth, and swallow his Victuals just so and so and so. And then, between every two Words, there was to be so many my Lords and my Ladies, and I thank you Sir, and I thank you Madam, and Master this and Master that, that poor Harry, no longer able to contain himself, cried, I wish I was with my Mammy in the Kitchen.

After Dinner the Children were set to Questions and Commands. But here, our Hero was beaten hollow, as he was after­ward, at Draw Glove and Shuffle the Slip­per. They next came to Hot Cockles, and Harry, being first down, had his left Hand well warm'd for near a Quarter of an Hour, till, more by good Luck than any good Policy, he fix'd upon a delicate little Gentleman, the Son and Heir of Lord and Lady Toilet, who lay down, ac­cordingly; when Harry, endeavouring to [Page 66]sum all the Favours he had received in one Payment, gave Master such a Whirrick, that his Cries instantly sounded the ne plus ultra to such kind of Diversions. But Har­ry being chidden for his Rudeness and ob­liged to ask Pardon, all was soon whole again.

Now, throughout these several Amuse­ments, though this Group of little Qua­lity, behaved themselves with great good Manners towards our Hero, yet, as my Lady's Judgment of his Intellects became current thro' the Country, and that all took him to be little removed from a Natural; these small Gentry, also, held him in the lowest Contempt, and gave themselves secret Credit for the Decency of their Con­duct in his Behalf.

Two or three of them, however, having maliciously contrived to set him in a ridi­culous Light, prevailed upon his Brother to join in the Plot. They, accordingly, proposed a Play, wherein, Harry was en­joined to stand in the Centre, for so many Minutes, without Motion or Resentment let his Companions do what they would about him.

Our Hero, consequently, fixed himself to a Posture and Countenance altogether determined. The Attack instantly began. [Page 67]Some grinned, some pointed, some jeered and flouted at him, some twitched him by the Hair, some pinched him by the Breech, one tweaked him by the Nose, and another spirted Water full in his Face; but Harry bore all with the Firmness and Resignation of a Stoic Philosopher; till my Lady, quite impatient, cried out, did you ever see the like; such a Stock of a Child, such a Statue? why, he has no kind of Feeling, either of Body or Mind.

While she was pronouncing these Words, young Skinker, eldest Son to a wealthy 'Squire, a chubbed unlucky Boy, about the Age of Lord Richard, put one Hand within the other and desired Harry to strike thereon, which he did accordingly; but, feeling unusual Smart, and fired at the Treachery that he, justly, conceived was in the Case, Harry gave him such a sudden Fist in the Temple as drove him stag­gering backward, several Steps. Skinker, wholly enraged, and conscious of superior Strength, immediately returned, and with all his Might, gave Harry a Stroke on the Head, which Compliment he returned by a Punch in the Eye as rapid as Lightning. All the Boys stood aloof, and amazed at the Combat. My Lady, vehemently cried out to part them. But my Lord rose and, peremptorily, commanded fair Play. Mean while, young Skinker, wholly desperate to [Page 68]be foiled by one so much his Inferior in Strength and Understanding, flew on Har­ry like a Fury and fastened the Nails of both his Hands in his Face, from which Gripe our Hero as quickly disengaged him­self, by darting his Head into the Nose and Mouth of his Adversary, who was in­stantly covered with Blood, though his Passion would not permit him to attend to the Pain; for, exerting his last Effort, he closed in on our little Champion, and de­termined, at once, to finish the Combat, by lifting and dashing him against the Ground; but Harry finding himself going, nimbly put one Foot behind and hit Skinker in the Ham, and, at the same time push­ing forward, with all his Force, prone fell the unfortunate Skinker precipitated by the double Weight of himself and his Antago­nist, and his Head rebounded against the Floor, while up sprung Harry, and with a rising Dunt in the Stomach, put a Period to the Fray.

All dismay'd, and, wholly discomforted, Skinker flowly arose, and began to puke and cry most piteously. His Companions then gathered about him, and, compassion­ating his Plight, turned an Eye of Indigna­tion upon the Victor; all promiscuously exclaimed, O fie, Master Harry, I'm quite ashamed, Master Harry, you gave the first [Page 69]Blow; it was you that gave the first Blow, Master Harry; to all which Reproaches Harry, surlily, replied, if I gave first Blow he gave first Hurt.

Come, come, said my Lord, there must be something more in this Affair than we are, yet, acquainted with. Come hither Master Skinker, tell me the Truth, my Dear, what was it you did to Harry that provoked him to strike you? Indeed, Sir, said Skinker, I did not intend to Hurt him so much. When I gave him one Hand to strike, I held a Pin, within side in the other, but the Pin run up further than I thought for. Go, go, said my Lord, you deserve what you have got. You are an ill-hearted Boy, and shall not come here to play any more.

My Lady then called Harry, desired to look at his Hand, and found the Palm co­vered with Blood. This she washed away, and, having found the Wound, she put a small bit of Black sticking Silk to the Orifice, and Harry instantly held himself as sound a Man as ever.

It was then that, instead of exulting or crowing over his Adversary, he began to relax into Melancholy and Dejection, and sideling over toward Skinker, and, looking wistfully in his Face, if, said Harry, with [Page 70]a trembling Lip, if you will Kiss and Friends with me, I'll never beat you any more. To this Overture Skinker was, with a sullen Reluctance, persuaded by his Com­panions. And, from that Moment, the Victor began to gain Ground in the Heart and good Graces both of Father and Mo­ther.

Night now approached, the Candles were lighted up, and the Children took a short and slight Repast. Master Dicky then, privately whispering to his Mamma, desired her not to be frighted at what she might see, and immediately withdrew. In a short Time he return'd, and gathering all his little Companions into a Group, in the Centre of the Parlour, held them a while in Chat. When, O tremendous! a back Door flew open, and, in glided a most terrifying and horrible Apparition; the Body and Limbs, from the Neck down­wards, were all wrapt in a winding Sheet; and the Head, tho' Fear could not attend to its Form, appeared wholly illuminated with Flames that glared thro' the Eyes, Mouth and Nostrils.

At Sight hereof, Master Dicky, appear­ing the first to be frighted, screamed out, and ran behind his Mamma's Chair, as it were for Protection; the Pannick grew [Page 71]instantly contagious, and all this Host of little Gentry, who were, thereafter, to form our Senates, and to lead our Armies, ran, shrieking and shivering, to hide them­selves in Holes and to tremble in Corners.

Our Hero, alone, stood undaunted, tho' concerned; and, like an Astronomer who, with equal Dread and Attention, contem­plates some sudden Phenomenon in the Heavens, which he apprehends to be sent as an Ensign or Forerunner to the fall of mighty States, or dispeopling of Nations, so Harry with bent and apprehensive Brows, beheld and considered the approaching Spectre.

He had never heard nor formed any Idea of Ghosts of Hobgoblins, he there­fore stood to deliberate what he had to fear from it. It still advanced upon him, nor had he yet budged. When his Bro­ther cried out, from behind my Lady's Chair, beat it, Harry, beat it. On the in­stant, Harry flew back to the Corner, next the Hall, and catching up his Staff, the Trophy of Shrove Tuesday, he return'd upon the Spectre, and, aiming a noble Blow at the illuminated Sconce, he, at once, smash'd the outward Lantern; drove the Candle, Flame and all, into the Mouth of him who held it; and open'd his upper [Page 72]Lip from the Nose to the Teeth. Out spouted the Blood as from a Spiggot. The Ghost clapped all the Hands that he had to his Mouth, and slunk away to shew to his Friends in the Kitchen, how he had been baffled and mauled by an Infant of seven Summers.

Heav'n preserve us, cried my Lady, we shall have nothing but Broils and Bloodshed in the House while this Child is among us. Indeed, my Dear, replied the Earl, if there was any Thing more than mere Ac­cident in this Business, it was the Fault of your Favourite Dicky, who desired the Boy to strike.

By this Time, the little Gentry came, all from their lurking Holes, though yet pale and unassured. And, whatever Contempt they might have for the Intel­lects of Harry, they had, now, a very sin­cere Veneration for his Prowess.

Bed Time now approaching, and all being again settled. Harry, says my Lord, you have been a very good Boy, to Day, and have joined with your Companions in all their little Plays. Now, if you have any Plays to shew them I am sure they will have the good Manners to do as you de­sire. What say you Harry, have you any Play to shew them? Yes, Sir, said Harry, [Page 73]I have a many of them; there's first, Leap Frog, and Thrush a Thrush. To it, then, Harry, says my Lord, and pray, all you little Gentlemen, do you observe his Directions.

No sooner said than done. Harry took his Companions, One by One, and, caus­ing them to stoop, with their Heads to­ward the Ground in a long Line, and at certain Distances each before t'other, he returned to the Tail, and taking the Ad­vantage of a short Run to quicken his Motion, he laid his Hands on the Rump of the Hindmost, and vaulting lightly over him, he, with amazing Rapidity, flew a­long the whole Line, clearing a Man, at ev'ry Motion, till he alighted before the Foremost, and down he popt in the Pos­ture of those behind.

My Lady, in utter Astonishment, lift­ing up her Hands and Eyes, exclaim'd, O the fine Creature, O the graceful Crea­ture! if there was but a Mind to match that Body, there would not be such ano­ther Boy in the Universe.

Lord Richard, being now hindmost, was the next who adventured, and, with Acti­on enough, clear'd his two first Men; but then having lost the Advantage of his Run, and, his Foreman being of more [Page 74]than ordinary Size; he first stuck upon his Rump, and, pitching thence, broke his Forehead against the Floor. He got up however with a pleasant Countenance, and, running along side the Line, set him­self in his former Posture before his Bro­ther. The Hindmost then, and then the next, and the next, and so onward, took their Turns, in Succession, without any better Success. The one bruised his Shoul­der, another sprained his Finger, another bumpt his Head, another broke his Nose, &c. &c. So that, in less than five Minutes, my Lady had got an Hospital of her own, though not altogether consisting of Incu­rables.

Now, Spirits, and Vinegar, brown Pa­per, black Plaister, &c. were called for in a Hurry, and, the several Stupes and Dress­ings being skilfully applied, the Children were ordered to their respective Beds, and Nurse was prevailed upon to continue with Harry, till he shou'd be reconciled to his new Friends and Associates.

Now Harry was become a Favourite, es­pecially among the Servants who, in a manner; adored him, since the Adventure of the Box and the Hobgoblin.

[Page 75]

Hobgoblin. — In good Time — Nothing amazes me, so much, as the ter­rifying Apprehensions that the World, from the Beginning, has universally enter­tained of Ghosts and Spectres.

Do you fear them?

No — I can't say — not much — something of this formerly. I should not like, even now, to lie alone, in a remote Chamber of a ruinous Castle said to be haunted, and have my Curtains, at Mid­night, opened suddenly upon me by a Death's-head and Bloody-bones. All Non­sense, I know it; the early Prejudices of a dastardly Fancy — I fear, while I am convinced there is nothing to be feared. — Do you think there is any such Thing in Nature as a Spirit?

I know not that there is any such Thing, in Nature, as Matter.

Not know there is any such Thing as Matter? — You love to puzzle — to throw lets into the Road of common Sense. — What else do you know? from what else can you form any kind of Idea?

[Page 76]

The Room is warm enough, more Heat is needless. — I know that Thoughts and Conceptions are raised in my Mind; but, how they are raised, or that they are adequate Images of Things supposed to be represented, I know not. What if this Something, or this Nothing, called Matter, should be a Shadow, a Vacuum, in re­spect of Spirit, wholely resistless to it and pervadeable by it? Or, what if it be no other than a various Manifestation of the several good and evil Qualities of Spirit? If one infinite Spirit, as is said, fills the Universe, all other Existence must be but as the Space wherein he essentially abides and exists; indeed, they could not be pro­duced, or continued for a Moment, but by his existing omnipotently, indivisibly, entirely, in and throughout every Part.

This is new, very new — but I will not batter my Brains against your Castle. — According to your Thesis, when a Man is apprehensive of a Spirit or Spectre, it is not of Shadows but of Substances that he is afraid.

Certainly; his principal Apprehen­sion arises from his believing it more suffi­cient, more powerful, and more formida­ble than himself.

[Page 77]

Excuse me, there are more tremen­dous Reasons. On the Supposition of an Engagement, those Sort of invisible Gen­try have many Advantages over us. They give a Man no manner of fair Play. They have you here, and have you there, and your best Watch and Ward is no better than fencing against an invisible Flail. — But, seriously, do you think we have any innate Fears of these Matters?

All our Fears arise from the Sense of our own Weakness, and of the Power and Inclination that Others may have to hurt us.

If our Horrour of Apparitions is not innate, how comes it to pass, that Soldiers, that general Officers, who dare all other Danger, that Heroes who, like Brutus, have given Death to themselves, or who have been led to Execution without a chang­ing Cheek, have yet dreaded to lie alone, or to be left in the dark?

We all see that a Spirit has vast Pow­er. Nothing else in Truth can have any Power at all. We perceive, by ourselves and others, with what Ease it can act upon what we call Matter; how it moves, how it lifts it. Perhaps, were our Spirits detach­ed from this distempered Prison, to which [Page 78]the Degeneracy of our fallen Nature has confined them, they might more easily whirl a Mountain through the Atmosphere, than they can now cast a Pebble into the Air. The Consideration of this Power, when joined to Malevolence, as is generally the Case, becomes very tremendous. The Stories told by Nurses and Gossips about a Winter's Fire, when the young Auditors crouch closer and closer together, and dare not look about for fear of what may be behind them, leave Impressions that no subsequent Reason or Religion can efface. The Ideas of an Apparition, on these Oc­casions, are connected with all the Horrours, of which infant Imaginations can be sus­ceptible; Fangs, Horns, a threatning Mien, saucer Eyes, a flaming Breath, and a deadly Aspect. When Children are told of Fairies, who carry off People to dwell with them under Ground, and of evil Spirits who snatch away Soul and Body, together, to be their Associates in Regions of Darkness, and Woe, the Fear of such Evils greatly surpasses those of Death, as it weds Misery to Existence beyond the Grave. — On the contrary Side. Had Spirits been originally represented to In­fants as Beings of an amiable Appearance, and as Guardians benevolent and beneficent to Man; had they further deigned to visit us under such Representations, and, had we experienced the Advantage of their In­structions [Page 79]and good Offices, we should have met them with Transport, and have parted with Regret.

I observe that, as our female Anti­quarians drop off, our Faith in Spectres perceptibly decays. We have not the fif­tieth Story either propagated or believed, that was credited as Gospel when I was a Boy. What think you, is it for, or against Religion, that such Fables should get foot­ing among Mankind?

I never could think it for the In­terest of Religion that the Providence of God should be elbowed, as it were, quite out of the World by a System of Daemo­nism. On the other Hand, I take the Devil to be a Personage of much more Prudence than to frighten his Favourites from him by assuming such horrid and dis­gustful Appearances. He rather chuses to lurk behind Temptation, in the Allure­ment of Beauty, the Deceitfulness of Smiles, the Glozing of Compliments, in Revel and Banquetting, in Titles and Honours, in the Glitter of Ornament, and in the Pomp of State. When God sends his Spirits on Messages to Man, there is a Meaning of Importance in the Errand. Such was that of his Angel to Manoah for the Delivery of a People; and to Zacharias [Page 80]and the blessed Virgin for the Redemption of Humankind. But, when the Devil is said to send his Emissaries throughout the Earth, on what Errands does this Arch-Politician employ them? Even such as could suit no other than a Dunce or a Driveller. I never yet heard of one of these Missions that could be construed to any Intention of Cunning or common Sense. I therefore hold the Legends of his ghostly Visitation to be altogether apocryphal.

Every Man of common Sense must be of the same Opinion. And yet, have you known any Person wholely free from such Prejudices, who made no Distinction, on this fantastical Article, between Dark­ness and Mid-Day, between a lonely Char­nel House and a full Assembly?

I have; but they were Men of ex­ceeding strong Nerves; as also of exceed­ingly clear or exceedingly callous Conscien­ces, which, coming from opposite Points, equally met for the same Purpose on this Occasion.

Two Travellers, the One a Man of Pie­ty, the Other a Profligate, met at a Coun­try Inn just as Night came upom them. It was Halontide-Eve, the Season, in those Days, wherein the Devils were said to keep high Carnival, and when all the Inhabitants [Page 81]of the visionary Regions were supposed to revel and range throughout the Earth at Pleasure.

For want of better Company our Tra­vellers made up an Acquaintance, and further cemented it by a Jugg of good Li­quor. The Night was dark. The Girls of the House had new wash'd their Smocks, to be hung to the Fire, and turn'd by the ghostly Resemblances of their Sweethearts; and the Conversation, in the Kitchen, ran on many an authentic Narrative of Spectres, and, particularly, on the Man in Gibbets who hung by the Road, and who was re­ported, between Twelve and One at Mid­night, to descend from the Gallows, and take just three turns about the old Barn.

Do you believe any of this droll Stuff, said the Profligate. I know not what to think, answered his pious Companion, I find all the World in the same Story, and yet, as the saying is, I never saw any Thing more frightful than myself. As for my Share, said the Profligate, I think I shouldn't fear the great Devil himself; and indeed I should be glad to have a little Chat with the old Gentleman. Stout as you are, rejoined his Companion, I will lay you a Bett of five Crowns that you dare not warm a Porringer of Broth, and [Page 82]go, and offer it, without there, to the Man in Gibbets, I will depend on your Honour for Performance of Articles. 'Tis done, cried the other; the Betts were produced, and respectively deposited in the Hands of my Landlady.

Our pious Traveller, who now began to be alarmed for his Wager, stole slily out, while his Companion was busied in heating the Broth. He made up to the Place where the deceased Malefactor was taking the fresh Air. The Gallows was low, and, by the Advantage of a Bank behind and his own Agility, he leaped up and fastened his Arms about the Shoulders of the Corpse, so that they both appeared but as one Body.

He had just fixed himself to his Mind, when, up comes his Companion with the Porringer and a Stool. He directly mount­ed the Stool, and, reaching up a spoonful of Broth to the Mouth of the Dead, with a firm and bold Voice he cried, Sup Man! why don't you Sup?

Scarce had these Words been uttered, when, fearful to hear! with a Tone deep as Hell and dismal as the Grave, the Man in Gibbets replied—It i—is too ho—ot. And damn you, why don't you blow it then? rejoined the other.

[Page 83]

My Nerves will not admit of this for Fact. The Tale indeed is good, though such an Instance of Intrepidity in any Mor­tal may be disputable. But, shall we ne­ver return to our Story again?

It matters not how far we travel from it, since the Magic of a Wish can bring us back in a twinkling.

CHAP. IV.

RUFFLED Linen, laced Hat, Silk Stockings, &c. had now been order­ed, for Harry, with a new Suit of Cloaths, trim'd like those of your Beau-Insects, vul­garly called Butterflies. They were tried on, in the Presence of his Parents, and highly approved by all, except Harry him­self, who seemed, by his Fidgettings, to be somewhat disgusted at this new Kind of Incumbrance. Harry, says my Lord, puts me in mind of the Son of Jesse in the Ar­mour of Saul, he has not yet proved them. Well Harry, how do you like yourself? I don't know, not I, says Harry. But, Papa, can you tell me what these Things are for? In truth Harry, you pose me. Won't People love me better, Sir? not a whit indeed Harry, replied my Lord. L—d help that little Fool's Head of thine, interposed my Lady, if People won't love thee, they'll respect thee the more. Fool's Head! repeated my Lord, upon my Soul, the Child has more Sense than Half our Nobility.

Harry had been, now, near a Month with his Parents, and, as his Nurse had not yet parted, he was tolerably amenable to Quality Government. However, he [Page 85]pined in the Absence of his Dada, as he called him, and daily importuned my Lord and Lady to be permitted to go and see him. For, as Harry's Heart told him that his bearded Dada loved him better than all the World, so Harry loved him better than three Worlds; for, he was ever desirous of going three Times as far, in Affection and good Offices, as any one went for him.

At length, he obtained Consent, and was conducted, by his Nurse, in all his Finery, on a Visit to this dear Dada.

Their meeting was accompanied by Tears of Joy on both Sides; when the old Gentleman, struck with Concern at the Garb in which he saw his Darling, cried out, and who, my Dear, put this Fool's Coat upon my Child? Fool's Coat, Sir, says Harry; yes, my Love, it is worse than all that; they were very naughty Doctors who have endeavoured to poison my Boy. There is not a Bit, of all this Lace and Ruffling, that is not full of rank Poisons. I will tell you a Story my Harry.

There was, once upon a Time, a very good and a very clever Boy called Hercules. As he grew up, beside his Prayers and his Book, he was taught to run, and leap; to ride, wrestle, and cudgel; and tho' he was able to beat all [Page 86]the Boys in the Parish, he never used to hurt or quarrel with any of them. He did not matter Cold, nor Hunger, nor what he eat, nor what he drank; nor how, nor where he lay; and he went always dressed in the Skin of a wild Beast, that could bear all Winds and Weathers, and that he could put on or off at Pleasure, for he knew that his Dress was no Part of himself, and could neither add to him, nor take away any Thing from him.

When this brave Boy came to Man's Estate, he went about the World, doing Good in all Places; helping the Weak, and feeding the Hungry, and cloathing the Naked, and comforting those that cried, and beating all those that did Hurt or Wrong to others; and all good People loved him with their whole Hearts, and all naughty People feared him terribly.

But, O sad and dismal! a Lady, whom he had saved from great Hurt and Shame, made him a Present of a new Coat, which was called a Shirt, in those Days, as they wore it next the Skin. And now, my Harry, take Notice. The Lady had co­vered this Coat, all over, with Laces, and with Rufflings, and with Beads of Glass, and such other Fooleries; so that poor Hercules, looked just as fine, as you do now. And he turned him to this Side, [Page 87]and he turned him to that Side, and he began to think more and better of himself, because he had got this Fool's Coat upon him. And the Poison of it entered into his Body and into his Mind, and brought Weakness and Distempers upon the one and the other. And he grew so fond of it that he could not bear to have it put off. For he thought that, to part with it, would be to part with his Flesh from his Bones. Neither would he venture out in the Rain, any more; nor box nor wrestle with any Body, for fear of spoiling his fine Coat. So that in Time, he lost the Love and the Praises of every Body; and all People scorned him, and pointed at him for a Fool and a Coxcomb, as he went by.

For some Time, after the old Gentle­man had finished his Story, the Child con­tinued to gaze up at him, with fixed Eyes and open Mouth, as fearful of losing any Syllable that he might utter. 'Till, recollecting himself, he cried out, O, this is a very sad Case, indeed; I wish my Coat was burnt, so I do, but, don't fear for me Dada. Why, how then Harry? replied his Patron. Why, I may find a Trick for all this, Dada, I warrant, you never see me in this ugly Coat again.

[Page 88] After this and some other Instructions and mutual Endearments, Nurse press'd to be gone; and these two fond Friends were compelled to sunder, with a Promise, on Harry's Part, of a speedy Return.

For some Time after his Arrival at the Mansion House, Harry appeared thought­ful, and greatly dejected, which they as­cribed to his parting with his old Friend; but Harry had Schemes in his Head that they were little able to fathom or guess at. Having peeped about, for some Time, he found a Knife, in a Window, which he instantly seized upon, and then, stole up with all possible Privacy, to his Apart­ment.

There he stript himself, in a Hurry, and, falling as quickly to work, began to cut and rip and rend away the Lacings of his Suit, without sparing Cloth or Seam. While he was, thus, in the Heat and very Middle of his Business, he heard himself, repeatedly called on the Stairs, and hurry­ing on his Cloaths, to obey the Summons, he ran down to the Parlour with Half the Trimmings hanging in Geometry, Frit­ters, and Tatters about him.

The droll, and very extraordinary Fi­gure that he cut, struck all the Company [Page 89]into utter Amazement. Having gazed on him, for some Time, in a kind of silent Stupor. Why Harry, cries my Lady, what's all this for? who abused you, my Child, who put you in this Pickle? come hither and tell me, who spoiled your Cloaths? I did, Madam. You did, Sirrah, cried my Lady, giving him a Shake, and how dare you spoil them? why, because they wanted to spoil me, said Harry. And who told you they would spoil you, Sir­rah? I won't tell, said Harry. I'll lay a Wager, cried my Lady, it was that old Rogue with the Beard; but I'll have him whipt for a Fool and a Knave out of the Parish. Pray, my Dear, be patient a little, said his Lordship. Come here, Harry, and tell me the Truth, stoutly; and no Harm shall happen to you or your Dada with the Beard. Come, speak, what Fault did he find with your Cloaths? Why, Sir, he said, as how they would poison me. Poison you, my Dear; pray how was that? Why, Sir, he told me as how there was a little Master, call'd Herclus, and as how he was a mighty good Boy, and was cold and hungry, and almost naked, and did not matter, so as how he could do Good to every Body; and as how every Body loved him with all their Heart. And then, he told me, as how he got a mighty fine Coat, and looked here, and looked there, [Page 90]and minded nothing but his Coat; and as how his Coat poison'd him, and would not let him do any more Good, and as how all the Boys then hated him, and piss'd upon him, Sir — and as how — I believe, that's all, Sir —

Here, my Lord and Lady took such a Chink of Laughing, that it was some Time before they could recover; while Harry looked abashed and disconcerted. But my Lord, recollecting himself, took the Child on his Knee, and, warmly pressing him to his Bosom, I must tell you, my Harry, said he, as how you are a mighty good Boy, and as how your Dada with a Beard is a mighty good Dada, and has told you all that is right and true. And, that I will go, myself, one of these Days, and thank him in Person. Thank you, Sir, says Harry.

Well, Harry, said my Lord, I promise that no one shall poison you any more, with my Consent. Whereupon another new Suit was immediately appointed, of a Kind that should fear no Weather, nor, in case of Dirt or Damage, draw upon Harry the Resentment or Admonitions of his Mama.

Just as Dinner was served up, Mr. Meekly entered and took his Seat. He [Page 91]came in order to conciliate a late Difference between the Earl and Sir Standish Stately; and in this he found no manner of Diffi­culty, as my Lord was, by Nature, of a kindly Disposition, and required no more than a first Advance to be reconciled to any Man.

During the Entertainment, Harry kept his Eyes fixed on Mr. Meekly; and, as soon as the Cloth was off, he rose, went over to him, looked fondly in his Face, and took hold of his Hand with the Familiarity of an old Acquaintance.

Mr. Meekly, said my Lord, my Son Harry pays you a very particular and very deserved Compliment; he puts me in mind of that Sort of Instinct, by which a strange Dog is always sure to discover, and to ap­ply to the most benevolent Person at Ta­ble. Indeed, my Lord, said Mr. Meekly, (caressing the Child) I know not, whether by Instinct, or by what other name to call my own Feelings; but certain it is that, the first Moment I saw him, in his little peasant Petticoats, I found my Heart strongly affected toward him.

In a short Time my Lady retired, with the Children, and left the Earl and Mr. Meekly over a temperate Bottle. Mr. Meekly, said my Lord, (taking him cor­dially [Page 92]by the Hand) I rejoice at the Advan­tage of our late Acquaintance, or rather I repine that it was not earlier. I am great­ly interested, Sir, in asking you a few Questions, if I thought I might do it with­out Offence. Are you any way straitened in your Circumstances? — No, my Lord, — But, would you not wish them more affluent, would you not wish that your Power of doing Good were more extensive, more answerable to the Benevolence of your own Inclinations? — I cannot say that I would, my Lord. I have upward of seven Hundred a Year clear Income; and that is fourteen Times more than I have Occasion to expend. — It would be indelicate, re­plied the Earl, very indelicate to own that I am sorry for your Prosperity; and yet I feel that I should have been happy in your Distress, in the Power it would have given me to serve, to oblige you. I want a Friend, I want just such a Friend as Mr. Meekly, and I know of no Price at which I would not gladly purchase him. — My Lord, I am yours, freely, affectionately yours, with­out Fee or Condition. Sir, rejoined my Lord, as I find that I cannot make out a Title to your particular Attachment, I am content to be taken into the general Circle of your Benevolence.

The World, Mr. Meekly, think me the happiest of Men; bless'd in my Family, [Page 93]in my Friends; with Health, Honours, Affluence; with the Power of gratifying every Wish that human Fancy can form! but alas! my Sensations are very far from affirming their Judgment of these Matters; and I will deserve your Advice, your Con­solation, if you can afford it, by unbosom­ing myself to you without reserve.

When I reflect on my past Life, I look on many Parts of it with Repentance, and on the Whole with Regret. Not that I wish the return of Pleasures that I now de­spise, or of Years spent in a Manner that Virtue and common Sense must equally disapprove? but I am arrived at my Even­ing of Life, like a Sportsman who, having been in pursuit of Game all the Day, re­turns homeward, sorrowful, satigued, and disappointed. With every Advantage that could gratify either my Vanity or my Ap­petites, I cannot affirm that I ever tasted of true Enjoyment; and I now well per­ceive that I was kept from being miserable, merely by Amusement and Dissipation.

As I had the Misfortune to be born to Title and a vast Estate, all People respect­ed, in me, the Possession of those Objects which they themselves were in pursuit of. I was consequently beset with Sycophants and Deceivers of all Sorts, and thereby, trained from my Infancy, to unavoidable [Page 94]Prejudices, Errors, and false Estimates of every Thing. I was not naturally ill-dis­posed, but I was perpetually seduced from all my better Tendencies.

Both my Parents died, before I arrived at those Years wherein our Laws allow of any Title to Discretion. I had but the one Brother, O that dear Brother, how many Sighs he has cost me! I was older than him by about seven Years, and this dis­parity of our Age, together with the ele­vating Notion of my Birthright, gave me the authoritative Airs of a Father, without a Father's Tenderness toward him. This mutually prevented that Cordiality, that Sympathy, as I may say, by which Bro­thers should be cemented during their Mi­nority. And, when our Guardian, as I then judged, had so far betrayed his Trust, as to bind my Brother apprentice to a Trader, and thereby to deprive him of all Title to Gentility. I looked upon him as a Branch cut off from the Family-Tree, and, as my Thoughts about him were accom­panied by Coldness or Disgust, I forbore to make any Enquiry concerning him.

I am apt to think, however, that he was not equally unnatural on his Part; but, hearing of the dissolute Life I led on my return from Travel, he might justly deem [Page 95]me unworthy of his Acquaintance or No­tice.

During the Time of my Intimacy with his late Majesty and the Ministers of his Pleasures and Policy, a Servant brought me Word that a Gentleman, attended by a Number of the principal Citizens, waited for me in my Ante-chamber; whereupon I gave Orders for their immediate Intro­duction.

On their Entrance, I was awfully struck with the Presence of their Principal, with the Elegance of his Figure, the Noble­ness of his Aspect, and Ease of his Ad­dress, and I felt myself drawn to him by a sudden Kind of instinctive Attachment.

My Lord, says he, we come to wait upon you in the Name of the very respect­able Body of the Citizens of London; some Infringements have been lately made on their City-Charter, and their first Applica­tion is to your Lordship, as they wish, above all others, to be obliged to you for their Redress.

They have been very discreet, said I, in their choice of an Advocate. Their De­mands must be exorbitant, if they fail of Success while you are their Solicitor.

[Page 96] This Paper, proceeded he, contains a clear Detail of their Rights and the En­croachments that have been made there­on. They are sensible of your Lordship's Interest with his Majesty and the Minis­try, and they humbly petition for your Fa­vour and happy Influence in their Behalf.

Without Papers, I replied, or any In­ducement save that of your own Request, let me but know what I am to do, and I shall think myself truely honoured and obliged by your Commands.

My Lord, he rejoined, I do not wish to betray you into any mistaken or unmerited Complaisance. I am but a Trader, a Citi­zen of the lower Order.

I now felt myself blush with Shame and Disappointment; I resented my being de­ceived by the Dignity of his Appearance; and I was more particularly piqued by the sarcastical kind of Smile with which he closed his Declaration. All confused, I looked down, and pretended to cast my Eye over the Paper, in order to gain Time for Recollection. Having, at Intervals, muttered a few Words, such as Charters, Grants, Privileges, Immunities, and so forth. I am not, said I, an Enemy to the lower Ranks of Men; poor People must [Page 97]live, and their Service, as well as Subor­dination is necessary to Society; but I con­fess I was always fond of those sumptuary Laws that confined the Degrees of Men to their respective Departments, and pre­vented Mechanics from confounding them­selves with Gentlemen.

My Lord, says he, with the most easy and provoking Unconcern, when you shall be pleased to look down from the Superi­ority of your Station, and to consider Things and Persons according to their Me­rits, you will not despise Some, merely for being of use to Others. The Wealth, Prosperity, and Importance of all this World is founded and erected on three living Pillars, the TILLER of the Ground, the MANUFACTURER and the MERCHANT. Of these, the Tiller is supposed to be the least respectable, as he requires the least of Genius, Invention, or Address; and yet the Plowman Tripto­lemus was worshipped as a God; and the Plowman Cincinnatus is still held in as high Esteem as any Peer of any Realm, save that of Great-Britain.

I have known, said I, a Mob of such Gods and Dictators somewhat dangerous at Times. I must be free to tell you, Mis­ter, that Matters are much changed since Princesses kept Sheep, and the Sons of [Page 98]Kings were Cow-herds. The Ranks and Orders of Men are now appointed and known, and one Department must not presume to break in upon the other. My Baker, Barber, Brewer, Butcher, Hatter, Hosier, and Taylor, are, unquestionably, of Use, though I have not the Honour of being acquainted with one of them. And, hitherto, I have deemed it sufficient to send my Servants to entertain and pay them their Bills, without admitting them to a Tete a Tete, as at present.

He now rejoined, with a little Warmth. My Lord, we pardon your Indelicacy, in consideration of your Error. The venera­ble Body, now present, might be admitted to a Tete a Tete with the first Estate of this Kingdom, without any Condescension on the Part of Majesty. And, would you allow yourself to be duely informed, I should soon make you sensible that we have actually done you the Honour which we intended by this Visit.

Permit me to repeat that the Wealth, Prosperity, and Importance of every Thing upon Earth arises from the TILLER, the MANUFACTURER and the MERCHANT; and that, as nothing is truely estimable, save in Proportion to its utility, these are, consequently, very [Page 99]far from being contemptible Characters. The Tiller supplies the Manufacturer, the Manufacturer supplies the Merchant, and the Merchant supplies the World with all its Wealth. It is thus that Industry is promoted, Arts invented and improved, Commerce extended, Superfluities mutually vended, Wants mutually supplied, that each Man becomes a useful Member of Society, that Societies become further of Advantage to each other, and that States are enabled to pay and dignify their upper Servants with Titles, rich Revenues, Prin­cipalities and Crowns.

The Merchant, above all, is extensive, considerable, and respectable by his Occu­pation. It is he who furnishes every Com­fort, Convenience, and Elegance of Life; who carries off every Redundance, who fills up every Want; who ties Country to Country, and Clime to Clime, and brings the remotest Regions to Neighbourhood and Converse; who makes Man to be li­terally the Lord of the Creation, and gives him an Interest in whatever is done upon Earth; who furnishes to each the Product of all Lands, and the Labours of all Nati­ons; and thus knits into one Family and weaves into one Web the Affinity and Brotherhood of all Mankind.

[Page 100] I have no Quarrel, I cried, to the high and mighty my Lords the Merchants, if each could be humbly content with the Profits of his Profession, without forming themselves into Companies, exclusive of their Brethren, our itinerant Merchants and Pedlars. I confess myself an Enemy to the Monopolies of your charter'd Com­panies and City Corporations; and I can perceive no evil Consequence, to the Pub­lic or the State, if all such Associations were this Instant dissolved.

Permit me, he mildly replied, once for all, to set your Lordship right in this Mat­ter. I am sensible that the Gentlemen of large landed Properties are apt to look up­on themselves as the Pillars of the State, and to consider their Interests and the In­terests of the Nation, as very little behol­den or dependent on Trade; though the Fact is, that those very Gentlemen would lose nine Parts in ten of their yearly Re­turns, and the Nation nine Tenths of her yearly Revenues, if Industry and the Arts, (promoted as I said by Commerce) did not raise the Products of Lands to tenfold their natural Value. The Manufacturer, on the other Hand, depends on the landed Interest for nothing save the material of his Craft; and the Merchant is wholely in­dependent of all Lands, or rather he is the [Page 101]general Patron thereof. I must further observe, to your Lordship, that this bene­ficent Profession is by no means confined to Individuals, as you would have it. Large Societies of Men, nay mighty Nations may and have been Merchants. When Socie­ties incorporate, for such a worthy Pur­pose, they are formed as a Foetus within the Womb of the Mother, a Constitution within the general State or Constitution; their particular Laws and Regulations ought, always, to be conformable to those of the National System; and, in that Case, such Corporations greatly conduce to the Peace and good Order of Cities and large Towns, and to the general Power and Prosperity of the Nation.

A Nation that is a Merchant has no need of an Extent of Lands, as it can de­rive to itself Subsistance from all Parts of the Globe. Tyre was situated in a small Island on the Coast of Phaenicia, and yet that single City contained the most flou­rishing, opulent, and powerful Nation in the Universe; a Nation that long with­stood the united Forces of the three first Monarchies, brought against her by Nebu­chadnezar and Alexander the Great.

The seven united Provinces do not con­tain Lands sufficient for the Subsistance of one Third of their Inhabitants; but they [Page 102]are a Nation of Merchants; the World furnishes them with an Abundance of all good Things; by Commerce they have arrived at Empire; they have assumed to themselves the Principality of the Ocean; and, by being Lords of the Ocean, are in a Measure become the Proprietors of all Lands.

Should England ever open her Eyes to her own Interests, she will follow the same prosperous and ennobling Profession; she will conform to the Consequences of her Si­tuation. She will see that, without a Naval Pre-eminence, she cannot be safe; and, without Trade, that her Naval Power cannot be supported. Her Glory will also flow from this sure Source of her Interests, and a Sail-yard will become the highest Scepter of her Dignity. She will then find that a single Triumph of her Flag will be more available, for her Prosperity, than the Conquest of the four Continents; that her Pre-eminence, by Sea, will carry and diffuse her Influence over all Lands; and, that universal Influence is universal Dominion.

Avarice, my Lord, may pile; Robbery may plunder; new Mines may be opened; hidden Treasures may be discovered; Gamesters may win Cash; Conquerors [Page 103]may win Kingdoms; but all such Means of acquiring Riches are transient and de­terminable. While Industry and Com­merce are the natural, the living, the ne­ver failing Fountains, from whence the Wealth of this World can alone be taught to flow.

And can you, cried I, have the Effronte­ry, to insinuate a Preference, of yourself and your fellow Cits, to our British No­bles and Princes, who derive their Powers and Dignities from the stedfast Extent of their landed Possessions? Was it by Barter and Bargain that our Edwards and Henrys atchiev'd their Conquests on the Conti­nent? or was it by Pedlars and Mechanics, think you, that the Fields of Cressi, of Poictiers, and Agincourt are render'd im­mortal? Go, I continued, seek elsewhere for Redress of your insignificant Grievances; we give little to sturdy Beggars, but no­thing to saucy Rivals.

Wholely kindled by this Invective, he cast on me a fierce and menacing Re­gard; and, with a severe Accent, and a side Glance that shot Fire; when Courti­ers (says he) acquire Common-Sense, and that Lords shall have learn'd to behave themselves like Gentlemen, I may do such a one the Honour to acknowledge him for a Brother.

[Page 104] Your Brother! exclaimed Mr. Meekly, your Brother, my Lord?—Yes, Mr. Meekly, my Brother, my amiable, my ve­ry amiable and honourable Brother, in­deed. But, turning contemptuously from me, he instantly departed with his attend­ing Citizens.

I ought to have followed, I ought to have staid him. I should have fallen up­on his Neck. With my Tears and Car­resses I should have wrung a Pardon from him, and not have suffer'd him to leave me till by my Submissons I had obtained full Forgiveness. This, indeed, was my first Emotion. But the Recollection of my long and unnatural Neglect, my utter Dis­regard of his Person and Concerns, now aggravated by my late Insults, persuaded me that a Reconciliation, on his Part, was impossible.

I remained disconcerted, and greatly disturbed I felt with what Pride and Transport I should now have acknowledg­ed, have courted, have clasped this Bro­ther to my Bosom; but my Fancy repre­sented him as Ice in my Arms, as shrink­ing and turning from me with Disgust and Disdain. At Times, I formed a hundred Schemes toward recovering his Affections; but again, rejecting these as ineffectual, [Page 105]I endeavoured to console myself for his Loss, by considering his late Demeanour as exceeding faulty, and expressive of a Dis­position insufferably proud and overbear­ing. My Heart, indeed, acknowledged how very lovely he was in his Person; but the Superiority of his Talents, and the Re­finement of his Manners, gave him a Dis­tinction that was not altogether so grateful.

All Day I kept my Apartment, in Dis­pleasure, at my Brother, myself, and the World. The next Morning I was in­formed that, the Moment he left me, he went to the Minister, who engaged, at his Instance, to have every Grievance that he complained of redressed to their extent. That the Minister had, afterwards, intro­duced him to his Majesty in full Levee, that the King held him in long and fami­liar Conversation, and that all the Court was profuse of their Admiration and Praises of Mr. Clinton.

This, also, was fresh Matter of Tri­umph to him, and Mortification to me. It was now evident that my Brother's Ap­plication to me was intended, merely, to do me peculiar Honour; and, in Return, said I to myself, I have endeavoured to cover him with Confusion and Disgrace. Yet, when I understood that he had dis­dained to mention me as his Brother, or [Page 106]of his Blood; I also scorned to derive Lustre from any Claim of Affinity with him; and I further felt that I could not forgive him the Reproaches which he con­strained me to give myself in his behalf.

From that Time, I took great Pains to dissipate or suppress those uneasy Sensati­ons which the Remembrance of him gave me. But, after I had married and retired from the Glare and Bustle of the World; and, more particularly, on the Birth of my first Child, when my Heart had en­tered into a new Sphere of domestic Feel­ings, this dear Brother returned with double Weight upon my Mind. Yet his Idea was no longer accompanied by Envy or Resentment, but by an affectionate and sweet, though paining, Remorse.

I wrote him a Letter full of penitential Submissions, and of tender and atoning Prayers for Pardon and Reconcilement. But, alas, my Messenger returned with Tidings that, some Years past, he had withdrawn from Trade, had retired to France or Holland, had dropt all Corres­pondence, and that no one in England knew whether he was dead or alive.

Ah, my Brother, my dear Brother! (I would often repeat to myself) has any Re­verse [Page 107]of Fortune happened to you, my Brother? Perhaps some domestic Calami­ty; some heavy Distress, no doubt! and no Brother at Hand to console or share your Afflictions. Return to me, divide my Heart, divide my Fortune with me and mine! Alas, Wretch that I am, you know not yet that you have a Brother, one deserving of that Name. You know not that this Bosom of Flint is now huma­nized, and melted down in the Fervour of Affection toward you. You hate me, you despise me, my amiable Brother! How, how shall I make you sensible that my Heart is full of your Image, of Esteem, of tenderest Love for my lovely Harry Clinton?

I, again, sent other Messengers in search of Intelligence, I procured Letters to the Bankers and Merchants of principal Note abroad; but all my Solicitudes and Enqui­ries were equally fruitless.

The Grief, that this occasioned, first taught me to reflect, and cast a Shade over the Lustre of every Object about me. The World no more appeared as that World which, formerly, had held out Happiness to either Hand. I no longer beheld it thro' the Perspectives of Curiosi­ty or youthful Desire; I had worn out all its Gayeties; I had exhausted all its De­lights, [Page 108]for me it had nothing more to pro­mise, or bestow; and yet I saw no better Prospect, no other Resource.

Should I turn to Religion, a little Ob­servation taught me that the Devotees, themselves, were warm in pursuit of Ob­jects, of which I was tired; that they were still subject to the Passions and Desires of the World; and were no way to be dis­tinguished from other Men, save by an un­sociable Reserve, or gloomy Cast of Coun­tenance.

May I venture to confess to you, Mr. Meekly, that, at Times of my Despon­dence, I dared to call the Justice and Wis­dom of Omnipotence into question. Take this World, (said I to myself) consider it as it seems to stand, independent of any other, and no one living can assign a sin­gle End, or Purpose, for which it could be made. Men are even as their Fellow-Insects; they rise to Life, exert their Lineaments, and flutter abroad during the Summer of their little Season; then droop, die away, and are succeeded, and succeed­ed in an insignificant Rotation. Even the firmest human Establishments, the best labour'd Systems of Policy, can scarce boast a nobler Fate, or a longer Duration; the mightiest States and Nations perish, like Individuals; in one Leaf we read their [Page 109]History, we admire their Achievements, we are interested in their Successes, but, proceed to the next, and no more than a Name is left; the Ninevehs and Babylons of Asia are fallen, the Sparta and Athens of Greece are no more; and the Monuments that promised to endure to Eternity, are erased like the Mount of Sand which, Yesterday, the Children cast up on the Shore.

When I behold this stupendous Expanse, so sumptuously furnished with a Profusion of Planets, and Luminaries, revolving in appointed Courses, and diversifying the Seasons; I see a Work that is altogether worthy of a God. Again, when I descend to Earth, and look abroad upon the infi­nite Productions of Nature, upon Provisi­ons so amply answering to the Wants of every living Being, and on Objects and Organs so finely fitted to each other, I trace a complicated Maze of Wisdom, Bounty, and Benevolence. But, when I see all these Beauties and Benefits counter­acted by some adverse and destructive Principle; when the Heavens gather their Clouds and roll their Thunders above, and the Earth begins to quake and open beneath us; when the Air, that seemed so late to be the Breath and Balm of Life, grows pregnant with a Variety of Pests, Plagues and Poisons; when Life itself is [Page 110]found to be no other than the Store-house or Habitation of Death, and that all vege­table and animal Systems include within their Frame, the Principles of inevitable Distemper and Dissolution: When additi­onal to all these natural Mischiefs, I con­sider the Extent and Empire of moral Evil upon Earth; when I behold the wretched perishable short lived Animal, called Man, for the Value of some Matter of Property as transient as himself, indus­trious and studious of the Destruction of his Species; when, not content with the Evils that Nature has entailed upon him, Man exerts all his Talents for multiplying and speeding the Means of Perdition to Man; when I see half the World employ­ed in pushing the other Half from the Verge of Existence, and then dropping af­ter in an endless Succession of Malevolence and Misery; I cannot possibly reconcile such Contrasts and Contradictions to the Agency, or even Permission, of the one over ruling Principle of Goodness called GOD.

Could not Omniscience foresee such Consequences, at Creation? Unquestiona­bly, said Mr. Meekly.

Might he not have ordered Matters so, as to have prevented the Possibility of any [Page 111]Degree of natural or moral Evil in his Universe?—I think he might, my Lord.—Why did he not, then, pre­vent them? to what End could he permit such multiplied Malevolence and Misery among his Creatures?—For Ends, cer­tainly my Lord, infinitely worthy both of his Wisdom and his Goodness.—I am desirous it should be so; but cannot con­ceive, cannot reach the Way or Means of compassing such an Intention.

Can you not suppose, said Mr. Meekly, that Evil may be admitted for accomplish­ing the greater and more abundant Good? May not partial and temporary Malevolence and Misery be finally produc­tive of universal, durable, and unchangea­ble Beatitude? May not the Universe, even now, be in the Pangs of Travail, of Labour for such a Birth, such a blessed Consummation?

It were, rejoined the Earl, as our Shake­spear says, it were indeed a Consummati­on devoutly to be wished. But, might not Omnipotence have brought about a Consummation equally good, without any Intervention of preceding Evil?—Had that been possible, my Lord, it would un­questionably have been effected. But if certain Relations arise between God and his Creatures, and between Man and Man [Page 112]which could not arise save on the previous Supposition of Evil, without which, in­deed, neither the Attributes of God him­self, nor the Insufficiency, Dependance, or Obligation of the Creature could have been duely discoverable throughout Eternity, then temporary Evil becomes indispensably necessary to the Consequence and Con­summation of the greatest Good.

Your Notion, exclaimed the Earl, is great, amazing, truely glorious, and eve­ry Way worthy of a God who, in such a Case, would be infinitely worthy of all Worship! Is this the Reason, Mr. Meekly, that what we all so earnestly seek for is no where to be found, that no Portion or Taste of Happiness is to be had upon Earth?

I do not say so, my Lord; I think that a Man, even on Earth, may be occasion­ally, nay durably, and exceedingly happy.

What, happy? durably, exceedingly happy? repeated the Earl. I was told that the Experience of Ages, that Philosophy and even Divinity had agreed with Solomon in this, that all upon Earth was Vanity and Vexation of Spirit. If any may enjoy Happiness, on this Side of the great Con­summation that you speak of, I am per­suaded, Mr. Meekly, that you yourself are [Page 113]the Man. Your Lips indeed say nothing of the Matter, but neither your Eyes nor your Aspect can restrain the Expression of some extraordinary Peace that abides within. O, say then, my dear, my estimable Friend, whence, how, by what Means may a Man arrive at Happiness?—By getting out of himself, my Lord.

Out of himself, Mr. Meekly! you asto­nish me greatly. A Contradiction in Terms, unnatural, impossible!—God, himself, my Lord, cannot make a Man Happy in any other Way, either here, or hereafter.

It is, said the Earl, an established Maxim among all thinking Men, whether Divines or Philosophers, that SELF-LOVE is the Motive to all human Actions. Virtue forbid! exclaim'd Mr. Meekly; all Actions are justly held, good or evil, base or ho­nourable, detestable or amiable, merely according to their Motives. But, if the Motive is the same to all, there is an End, at once, to the Possibility of Virtue; the Cruel and the Kind, the Faithful and the Perfidious, the Prostitute and the Patriot are confounded together.

Do not all Men, return'd the Earl, act agreeable to their own Propensities and Inclinations? do they not Act so or so, [Page 114]merely because it pleases them so to act? and is not this Pleasure the same Motive in all?—By no Means, my Lord, it never was nor can be the Motive in any. We must go a Question deeper, to disco­ver the secret Principle or Spring of Acti­on. One Man is pleased to do Good, ano­ther is pleased to do Evil; now, whence is it that each is pleased with Purposes in their Nature so opposite and irreconcila­ble? Because, my Lord, that the Propen­sities or Motives to Action, in each, are as opposite and irreconcilable as the Acti­ons themselves; the one is prompted and therefore pleased with his Purpose of doing Evil to others, through some base Prospect of Interest redounding to himself; the other is prompted and spurred, and there­fore pleased with his Purpose of endan­gering his Person or suffering in his For­tune, through the benevolent Prospect of the Good that shall thereby redound to Others.

Pleasure is, itself, an Effect, and cannot be the Cause, or Pinciple, or Motive to any Thing; it is an agreeable Sensation that arises, in any Animal, on its meeting or contemplating an Object that is suited to its Nature. As far as the Nature of such an Animal is evil, evil Objects can alone affect it with Pleasure; as far as the Nature of such an Animal is good, the [Page 115]Objects must be good whereby its Pleasures are excited.

When Damon was sentenced, by Dionysius of Syracuse, to die on such a Day; he pray'd Permission, in the Interim, to re­tire to his own Country, to set the Affairs of his disconsolate Family in order. This the Tyrant intended most peremptorily to refuse, by granting it, as he conceived, on the impossible Conditions of his procuring some one to remain, as Hostage for his Return, under equal Forfeiture of Life. Pythias heard the Conditions, and did not wait for an Application on the Part of Damon, he instantly offer'd himself to Du­rance in the Place of his Friend, and Da­mon was accordingly set at Liberty.

The King and all his Courtiers were as­tonished at this Action, as they could not account for it on any allowed Principles. Self-Interest, in their Judgment, was the sole Mover of human Affairs; and they looked on Virtue, Friendship, Benevo­lence, Love of Country, and the like, as Terms invented by the Wise to impose upon the Weak. They, therefore, im­puted this Act of Pythias to the Extrava­gance of his Folly, to the Defect of Head, merely, and no way to any Virtue or good Quality of Heart.

[Page 116] When the Day of the destined Executi­on drew near, the Tyrant had the Curio­sity to visit Pythias in his Dungeon. Hav­ing reproached him for the romantic Stu­pidity of his Conduct, and rallied him, some Time, on his Madness in presuming that Damon, by his Return, would prove as great a Fool as himself; my Lord, said Pythias, with a firm Voice and noble As­pect, I would it were possible that I might suffer a thousand Deaths, rather than my Friend should fail in any Article of his Honour. He cannot fail therein, my Lord. I am as confident of his Virtue as I am of my own Existence. But, I pray, I beseech the Gods to preserve the Life and Integrity of my Damon together. Oppose him, ye Winds! prevent the Ea­gerness and Impatience of his honourable Endeavours! and suffer him not to arrive till, by my Death, I have redeemed a Life, a thousand Times of more Conse­quence, more Estimation, than my own, more estimable to his lovely Wife, to his precious little Innocents, to his Friends, to his Country. O, leave me not to die the worst of Deaths in my Damon!

Dionysius was confounded and awed by the Dignity of these Sentiments, and by the Manner, (still more sentimental) in which they were uttered; he felt his Heart [Page 117]struck by a slight Sense of invading Truth, but it served rather to perplex than to un­deceive him. He hesitated, he would have spoken, but he looked down, and retired in Silence.

The fatal Day arrived. Pythias was brought forth, and walked, amidst the Guard, with a serious but satisfied Air, to the Place of Execution.

Dionysius was already there. He was exalted on a moving Throne that was drawn by six white Horses, and sat pen­sive and attentive to the Demeanour of the Prisoner.

Pythias came. He vaulted lighty on the Scaffold; and, beholding for some Time the Apparatus of his Death, he turned with a pleased Countenance and addressed the Assembly.

My Prayers are hear'd, he cried, the Gods are propitious! You know, my Friends, that the Winds have been con­trary till Yesterday. Damon could not come, he could not conquer Impossibili­ties; he will be here To-morrow, and the Blood which is shed to Day shall have ransomed the Life of my Friend. O, could I erase, from your Bosoms, every Doubt, every mean Suspicion of the Ho­nour [Page 118]of the Man, for whom I am about to suffer; I should go to my Death, even as I would to my Bridal. Be it sufficient, in the mean Time, that my Friend will be found noble, that his Truth is unim­peachable, that he will speedily approve it, that he is now on his Way, hurrying on, accusing himself, the adverse Elements, and the Gods. But I haste to prevent his Speed; Executioner, to your Office!

As he pronounced the last Words, a Buzz began to arise among the remotest of the People. A distant Voice was heard. The Croud caught the Words; and, stop, stop the Execution! was repeated by the whole Assembly.

A Man came at full Speed. The Throng gave way to his Approach. He was mounted on a Steed of Foam. In an Instant he was off his Horse, on the Scaf­fold, and held Pythias straitly embraced.

You are safe, he cried, you are safe, my Friend, my Beloved, the Gods be praised, you are safe! I now have nothing but Death to suffer, and I am delivered from the Anguish of those Reproaches which I gave myself, for having endan­gered a Life so much dearer than my own.

[Page 119] Pale, cold, and half Speechless in the Arms of his Damon, Pythias replied in broken Accents,—Fatal Haste!—cruel Impatience!—what envious Powers have wrought Impossibilities in your Favour?—But, I will not be wholely disappointed—Since I cannot die to save, I will not survive you.

Dionysius heard, beheld, and considered all with Astonishment. His Heart was touch'd. His Eyes were opened; and he could no longer refuse his assent to Truths so incontestably approved by their Facts.

He descended from his Throne. He ascended the Scaffold. Live, live ye in­comparable Pair! he exclaimed. Ye have borne unquestionable Testimony to the Ex­istence of Virtue, and that Virtue equally evinces the Certainty of the Existence of a God to reward it. Live happy, live re­nowned! and, O, form me by your Pre­cepts, as ye have invited me by your Ex­ample, to be worthy of the Participation of so sacred a Friendship.

YOU bring your Arguments quite home, Mr. Meekly, said the Earl; the Understand­ing cannot reject what the Heart so sensi­bly feels. My Soul deeply acknowledges the Existence of Virtue, with its essential [Page 120]and inherent Difference from Vice, and this Difference, I acknowledge, must as ne­cessarily be founded in the Difference of the Principles from whence they proceed; but, what those Principles are I know not; and I am equally a Stranger to what you intend by a Man's getting out of him­self in order to Happiness. What am I to understand by the Term SELF, Mr. Meekly.

Every Particle of Matter, my Lord, has a SELF or distinct Identity, inasmuch as it cannot be any other Particle of Matter. Now, while it continues in this its State of SELFISHNESS or absolute Distinc­tion, it is utterly useless and insignificant, and is to the Universe as tho' it were not. It has however a Principle of Attraction (analogous or answerable to Desire in Mind) whereby it endeavours to derive to itself the Powers and Advantages of all other Portions of Matter. But when the DI­VINE INTELLIGENCE hath harmo­nized certain Quantities of such distinct Particles into certain animal or vegetable Systems, this Principle of Attraction in each is overcome, for each becomes at­tracted and drawn as it were from SELF, each yields up its Powers to the Benefit of the Whole, and then, and then only, be­comes capable and productive of Shape, [Page 121]Colouring, Beauty, Flowers, Fragrance, and Fruits.

Be pleased now to observe, my Lord, that this Operation in Matter is no other than a Manifestation of the like Process in Mind; and that no Soul was ever capable of any Degree of Virtue or Happiness save so far as it is drawn away, in its Affecti­ons, from SELF; save so far as it is en­gaged in wishing, contriving, endeavour­ing, promoting, and rejoicing in the Wel­fare and Happiness of others.

It is therefore that the Kingdom of Heaven is most aptly, and most beautiful­ly, compared to a Tree bearing Fruit and diffusing Odours, whose Root is the PRINCIPLE of infinite Benevolence, and whose Braches are the blessed Mem­bers, receiving consummate Beatitude from the Act of Communication.

I think, indeed, said the Earl, that I can form some Sort of a Notion of such a Society in Heaven. But it would pose you, Mr. Meekly, to exemplify your Posi­tion from any Body of Men that ever were upon Earth.

Pray pardon me, my Lord, the States of Sparta and Rome, derived their Lustre and Power, their whole Preeminence and [Page 122]Praise, from this Principle of Communication, which, in them, was called Love of Country. But this beatifying Principle was still more eminently instanced in the Society of the Church of Jerusalem, who had all Things in common; who imparted their Possessions to all Men, as every Man had need; and, thence, did eat their common Bread with Gladness and Singleness of Heart, praising God, and having Favour with all People.

You say, my Lord, that you can form a Notion of some such Excellence in Hea­ven; but I can form no Notion of any Ex­cellence more admirable, in Heaven itself, than when a Man, in his present State of frail and depraved Nature, overbears his personal Fears of Pain and Mortality, and yields up his Body to assured Perdition, for public Good, or for the sake of those whom it delighteth him to preserve.

I shall pass over the Instances of the Roman Regulus and the Decii, as also that of Leonidas and his three Hundred Spartans who devoted their Lives for the Liberties of Greece; was that Candidate less a Hero who, being rejected from being one of these Self-devoted, exclaimed, the Gods be praised that there are three Hundred, in Sparta, better Men than myself! But, I come nearer our own Times and our [Page 123]own Nation, to exemplify this Disregard of SELF, the vital Source and Principle of every Virtue, in six Mechanics or Crafts­men of the City of Calais.

Edward the Third, after the Battle of Cressy, laid Siege to Calais. He had forti­fied his Camp in so impregnable a Manner, that all the Efforts of France proved in­effectual to raise the Siege, or throw Suc­cours into the City. The Citizens howe­ver, under the Conduct of Count Vienne their gallant Governour, made an admira­ble Defence. Day after Day the English effected many a Breach which they repeat­edly expected to storm by Morning; but, when Morning appeared, they wonder'd to behold new Ramparts raised, nightly erected out of the Ruins which the Day had made.

France had now put the Sickle into her second Harvest since Edward with his victorious Army sat down before the Town. The Eyes of all Europe were in­tent on the Issue. The English made their Approaches and Attacks without Remissi­on; but the Citizens were as obstinate in repelling all their Efforts.

At length, Famine did more for Edward than Arms. After the Citizens had de­voured [Page 124]the lean Carcasses of their starved Cattle, they tore up old Foundations and Rubbish in search of Vermin. They fed on boiled Leather and the Weeds of ex­hausted Gardens, and a Morsel of damag­ed Corn was accounted Matter of Luxury.

In this Extremity they resolved to at­tempt the Enemy's Camp. They boldly sallied forth; the English joined Battle; and, after a long and desperate Engage­ment, Count Vienne was taken Prisoner; and the Citizens, who survived the Slaugh­ter, retired within their Gates.

On the Captivity of the Governour, the Command devolved upon Eustace Saint Pierre, the Mayor of the Town, a Man of mean Birth but of exalted Virtue.

Eustace now found himself under the ne­cessity of capitulating and offered to deli­ver, to Edward, the City, with all the Possessions and Wealth of the Inhabitants, provided he permitted them to depart with Life and Liberty.

As Edward had long since expected to ascend the Throne of France, he was exas­perated, to the last Degree, against these People, whose sole Valour had defeated his warmest Hopes; he therefore determined to take an exemplary Revenge, though [Page 125]he wished to avoid the Imputation of Cruely. He answered, by Sir Walter Mauny, that they all deserved capital Pu­nishment as obstinate Traitors to him, their true, and natural Sovereign. That, however, in his wonted Clemency, he con­sented to pardon the Bulk of the Plebei­ans, provided they would deliver up to him six of their principal Citizens, with Halters about their Necks, as Victims of due Atonement for that Spirit of Rebellion with which they had enflamed the vulgar Herd.

All the Remains of this desolate City were convened in the great Square, and, like Men arraign'd at a Tribunal from whence there was no Appeal, expected with beat­ing Hearts the Sentence of their Con­queror.

When Sir Walter had declared his Mes­age, Consternation and pale Dismay was impressed on every Face. Each looked upon Death as his own inevitable Lot; for, how should they desire to be saved at the Price proposed? whom had they to deliver save Parents, Brothers, Kindred, or valiant Neighbours who had so often exposed their Lives in their Defence? To a long and dead Silence deep Sighs and Groans succeeded; till Eustace St. Pierre, [Page 126]getting up to a little Eminence, thus ad­dressed the Assembly.

He spoke—but a universal Silence ensued. Each Man looked around for the Example of that Virtue and Magnanimity, in others, which all wished to approve in themselves, though they wanted the Reso­lution.

At length Saint Pierre resumed— ‘It had been base in me, my fellow Citi­zens to propose any Matter of Damage, to others, which I myself had not been willing to undergo in my own Person. [Page 128]But I held it ungenerous to deprive any Man of that Preference and Estimation which might attend a first Offer, on so signal an Occasion. For I doubt not but there are many here as ready, nay more zealous of this Martyrdom than I can be, however Modesty and the Fear of imputed Ostentation may withold them from being foremost in exhibiting their Merits.’

‘Indeed, the Station, to which the Captivity of Lord Vienne has unhappily raised me, imparts a Right to be the first in giving my Life for your Sakes. I give it freely, I give it chearfully; who comes next?’

Your Son! exclaimed a Youth, not yet come to Maturity. — ‘Ah my Child! cried Saint Pierre, I am, then, twice sacrificed. — But, no — I have rather begotten thee a second Time. — Thy Years are few but full, my Son; the Victim of Virtue has reached the utmost Purpose and Goal of Mortality. Who next, my Friends? — This is the Hour of Heroes.’ — Your Kinsman, cried John D'Aire! your Kinsman, cried James Wissant! your Kinsman, cried Peter Wissant! — Ah, exclaimed Sir Walter Mauny, bursting into Tears, why was I not a Citizen of Calais?

[Page 129] The sixth Victim was still wanting, but was quickly supplied, by Lot, from Num­bers who were now emulous of so ennobling an Example.

The Keys of the City were then deli­vered to Sir Walter. He took the six Prisoners into his Custody. He ordered the Gates to be opened, and gave Charge to his Attendants to conduct the remaining Citizens, with their Families, through the Camp of the English.

Before they departed, however, they de­sired Permission to take their last Adieu of their Deliverers — What a Parting, what a Scene! They crouded with their Wives and Children about Saint Pierre and his fellow Prisoners. They embraced, they clung around, they fell prostrate before them. They groaned, they wept aloud; and the joint Clamour of their Mourning passed the Gates of the City and was heard throughout the Camp.

The English, by this Time, were ap­prised of what passed within Calais. They heard the Voice of Lamentation, and their Souls were touched with Compassion. Each of the Soldiers prepared a Portion of their own Victuals to welcome and enter­tain the half famished Inhabitants; and [Page 130]they loaded them with as much as their present Weakness was able to bear, in or­der to supply them with Sustenance by the Way.

At length, Saint Pierre and his fellow Victims appeared under the conduct of Sir Walter and a Guard. All the Tents of the English were instantly emptied. The Soldiers poured from all Parts, and arrang­ed themselves on each Side, to behold, to contemplate, to admire this little Band of Patriots as they passed. They bowed down to them on all Sides. They mur­mured their applause of that Virtue which they could not but revere, even in Ene­mies. And they regarded those Ropes, which they had voluntarily assumed about their Necks, as Ensigns of greater Dignity than that of the British Garter.

As soon as they had reached the Pre­sence, Mauny! says the Monarch, are these the principal Inhabitants of Calais? They are, says Mauny, they are not only the principal Men of Calais, they are the prin­cipal Men of France, my Lord, if Virtue has any Share in the Act of ennobling. Were they delivered peaceably, says Ed­ward; was there no Resistance, no Com­motion among the People? Not in the least, my Lord; the People would all have perished, rather than have delivered the [Page 131]least of these to your Majesty. They are Self-delivered, Self-devoted, and come to offer up their inestimable Heads as an am­ple Equivalent for the Ransom of Thou­sands.

Edward was secretly piqued at this Re­ply of Sir Walter, but, he knew the Privi­lege of a British Subject, and suppressed his Resentment. Experience, says he hath ever shewn that Lenity only serves to in­vite People to new Crimes. Severity, at Times, is indispensably necessary to deter Subjects into Submission by Punishment and Example. Go, he cried to an Officer, lead these Men to Execution. Your Re­bellion, continued he, addressing himself to Saint Pierre, your Rebellion against me, the natural Heir of your Crown, is highly aggravated by your present Presumption and Affront of my Power.—We have nothing to ask of your Majesty, said Eus­tace, save what you cannot refuse us.—What is that?—Your Esteem, my Lord, said Eustace, and went out with his Companions.

At this Instant, a Sound of Triumph was hear'd throughout the Camp. The Queen had just arrived, with a powerful Rein­forcement of those gallant Soldiers, at the Head of whom she had conquer'd Scotland, and taken their King Captive.

[Page 132] Sir Walter Mauny flew to receive her Majesty, and briefly inform'd her of the Particulars respecting the six Victims.

As soon as She had been welcomed by Edward and his Court, She desir'd a pri­vate Audience. My Lord, said She, the Question I am to enter upon is not touch­ing the Lives of a few Mechanics; it re­spects a Matter, more estimable than the Lives of all the Natives of France, it re­spects the Honour of the English Nation, it respects the Glory of my Edward, my Hus­band, my King.

You think you have sentenced Six of your Enemies to Death. No, my Lord, they have sentenced themselves, and their Ex­ecution would be the Execution of their own Orders, not the Orders of Edward.

They have behaved themselves worthi­ly, they have behaved themselves greatly, I cannot but respect, while I envy, while I hate them, for leaving us no Share in the Honour of this Action, save that of gran­ting a poor and indispensable Pardon.

I admit they have deserved every Thing that is evil at your Hands. They have pro­ved the most inveterate and efficacious of your Enemies. They, alone, have with­stood [Page 133]the rapid Course of your Conquests, and have witheld from You the Crown to which You were born. Is it therefore that You would reward them? that you would gratify their Desires, that you would in­dulge their Ambition, and enwreath them with everlasting Glory and Applause?

But, if such a Death would exalt Me­chanics over the Fame of the most illus­trious Heroes, how would the Name of my Edward, with all his Triumphs and Honours be tarnished thereby! Would it not be said that Magnanimity and Virtue are grown odious in the Eyes of the Monarch of Britain? And that the Objects, whom he destines to the Punishment of Felons, are the very Men who deserve the Praise and Esteem of Mankind The Stage, on which they should suffer, would be to them a Stage of Honour, but a Stage of Shame to Edward, a Reproach to his Conquests, a dark and indelible Disgrace to his Name.

No, my Lord. Let us rather disappoint the saucy Ambition of these Burghers, who wish to invest themselves with Glory at our Expence. We cannot, indeed, wholely deprive them of the merit of a Sacrifice so nobly intended; but we may cut them short of their Desires; in the Place of that Death, by which their Glory would be consummate, let us bury them under Gifts, [Page 134]let us put them to Shame with Praises; we shall thereby defeat them of that popular Opinion which never fails to attend those who suffer in the Cause of Virtue.

I am convinced; you have prevailed; be it so, cryed Edward, prevent the Execution; have them instantly before us!

They came, when the Queen, with an Aspect and Accents diffusing Sweetness, thus bespoke them.

Natives of France, and Inhabitants of Calais, Ye have put us to vast Expence of Blood and Treasure in the Recovery of our just and natural Inheritance; but, you acted up to the best of an erroneous Judg­ment, and we admire and honour in you that Valour and Virtue, by which we are so long kept out of our rightful Possessions.

You noble Burghers, you excellent Citi­zens! though you were tenfold the Ene­mies of our Person and our Throne, we can feel nothing, on our Part, save Respect and Affection for You. You have been sufficiently tested. We loose your Chains, we snatch You from the Scaffold; and we thank You for that Lesson of Humiliation which you teach us, when you shew us that Excellence is not of Blood, of Title, or Station; that Virtue gives a Dignity superior to that of [Page 135]Kings; and that Those, whom the Al­mighty informs with Sentiments like yours, are justly and eminently raised above all human Distinctions.

You are now free to depart to your Kinsfolk, your Countrymen, to all Those whose Lives and Liberties You have so nobly redeemed, provided you refuse not to carry with You the due Tokens of our Esteem.

Yet, we would rather bind You, to ourselves, by every endearing Obligation; and for this Purpose, we offer to You your Choice of the Gifts and Honours that Ed­ward has to bestow. Rivals for Fame, but always Friends to Virtue, we wish that England were entitled to call You her Sons.

Ah my Country, exclaimed Saint Pierre, it is now that I tremble for You. Edward could only win your Cities, but Philippa conquers Hearts.

Brave Saint Pierre, said the Queen, wherefore look you so dejected?—Ah Madam! replied Saint Pierre, when I meet with such another Opportunity of dying, I shall not regret that I survived this Day.

Here a long Pause ensued. At length the Earl recollected himself. Mr. Meekly, sais he, You have now proved to me your [Page 136]Position more effectually, more convincing­ly, than all the Powers of Ratiocination could possibly do. While you related the Story of those divine Citizens, I was im­perceptibly stolen away and won entirely from Self. I entered into all their Interests, their Passions, and Affections; and was wrapt, as it were, into a new World of delightful Sensibilites. Is this what you call Virtue, what you call Happiness?

A good deal of it, my Lord. There are in Nature but two Kinds of Self; in other Words, there are but two Sorts of Wills in the Universe; the Will of infinite Wisdom, of infinite Benevolence, going forth in Beauty and Beatitude on all Creatures; And the Will of the Creature, desiring, attract­ing, envying, coveting, and rending all Things, from All, to its own Interest and Advantage. In the first Will subsists all possible Good, from the Second arises all possible Evil; and did not the first Will, in some Measure, inform and meliorate the Second, the Will of every Creature would be an Ishmael, his Hand would be a­gainst every One, and every One's Hand against him, and there would be nothing but Strife and Distraction, Hatred, Horrour, and Misery throughout the Creation.

Hence it follows that, as there is but one Will, from Eternity, infinitely wise [Page 137]to discern what is best throughout the Uni­verse, infinitely good to desire the Accom­plishment of what is best, and infinitely powerful to put what is best in Execution; every Will that is not inform'd by this ONE WILL, must of necessity act in Ignorance, in Blindness, and Error. I will further affirm that every Act of every Will, that is not informed by the ONE WILL of GOODNESS must, of equal ne­cessity, be the Act of Malevolence.

I do not see the necessity of that, re­plied the Earl. I well perceive that God can give to intelligent Beings an Existence or Identity distinct from himself, for I see that he has done it. What should there­fore prevent him from giving Qualities as distinct from himself as the Essence? why might he not impart, to any limited Degree, Capacity, Discernment, Power, Wisdom, and Goodness? Might not such a Being instantly perceive, to a vast Extent, the Relations of Things, with their several Fitnesses and Disagreements? would he not consequently be enamoured of what was right and beautiful? would he not act agreeable to such a just Approbation? and would not such Actions be fitly accounted the Act of Virtue?

At this Instant a Messenger arrived on the Spur. He brought word to Mr. Meekly [Page 138]that his Friend, Mr. Husbands, was taken suddenly ill and earnestly requested to see him directly; whereupon Mr. Meekly, who preferred any Matter of Charity to all other Considerations, immediately got up, made a silent Bow and vanished.

TO RETURN to our Hero. As soon as he was new rigged, he press'd for ano­ther Visit to his Patron; who received him, with accustomed Tenderness, but greatly wonder'd at his Peasant Dress. Nurse, then, recited to him the whole Adventure of the fritter'd Robeings. Whereat, the old Gentleman, in a manner devoured him with the Eagerness of his Caresses.

When Nurse and Harry were departed, he called to him his old Domestic. James, says he, with a Tear yet standing in his Eye, I can no longer live without the Company of this dear Child, hasten, there­fore, the Orders that I have already given you, and let all Things be in Readiness for the first Opportunity. The Domestic, who had caught the filent Habit of his Master, with a Bow, assented, and retired.

Autumn was now advanced, and Lord Dickey, with his Brother, a Number of little Associates, and an attending Foot­man, got leave to go to the Copse, a [Page 139]Nutting. As the Children were perfectly acquainted with the Way, the Servant de­sired to stay behind, a while, in order to provide Hooks for pulling down the Branches. This was granted; and forth they all issued in high Chat and Spirits.

The Copse lay, at some Distance, on one Side of the Park behind the Mansion-House; but, when they had nearly ap­proached the Place of their Destination, Harry missed a Garter, and, promising speedily to rejoin his Companions, went back to seek it.

In the mean Time, his Associates, on entering the Wood, met with another little Posse of the Village Fry, who were on their Return, one of whom carried a Bag of Nuts that seem'd bulkier than the Bearer. So, Gentlemen, says Lord Dickey, where are you going? Why, Home, where should we go? says a little Boor, sullenly. And, pray, what have you been doing, says the Lord. Guess, says the Boor. Is it Nuts that you have got in that Bag? demanded the Lord. Ask, To-morrow; answered the Boor. Sirrah, sais Dickey, a little provoked, how dare you to come and pull Nuts here, without our Leave? Why, as for that, Master Dickey, replied the other, I know you well enough, and I wouldn't ask your Leave, an' you were [Page 140]twenty Lords, not I. Sirrah, says Dickey, I have a great Mind to take your Nuts from you, and to give you as good a Beat­ing, into the Bargain, as ever you got in your Life. As for that, Master Dickey, coolly answered the Villager, you must do Both or Neither. Here I lay down my Nuts between us; and now come any Two of your Watergruel Regiment, one down t'other come on, and if I don't give ye your Belly fulls, why, then, take my Nuts, and welcome, to make up the Want.

This gallant Invitation was accepted, on the Spot. Lord Richard chose his Com­panion in Arms; and Both appeared quite flush and confident of Victory. For, though neither of them had been versed in the Gymnastic Exercises, they didn't want Courage and they knew that the Challen­ger was their Inferior in Strength and in Years.

But, unhappily for these two Champi­ons of Quality, Tommy Truck, their Ad­versary, had, like Harry, been a Bruiser, from two Years old and upward; and was held, in Veneration, as their Leader, and their Chief, by many who were his Supe­riors in Age and Stature.

[Page 141] Lord Richard began the Assault, but, was down in a Twinkling. To him his Friend succeeded, but, with no better For­tune. A Swing or Trip of Tommy's sent them, instantly, as Alcides sent Antaeus, to gather Strength from their Mother-Earth. And, though these Summer Heroes, like the young Roman Nobility at the Battle of Pharsalia, were solely intent on defending their pretty Faces from Annoyance, yet Tommy, at the third Turn, had bloodied them, Both.

Harry, who was now on his Return, perceived the Engagement, and, running up, and, rushing between the Combatants, interposed, with a Voice of Authority, and parted the Fray.

Having enquired, and duely informed himself of the Merits of the Case, he, first turned him to Lord Richard, and said, O, Brother Dickey, Brother Dickey, you ought not to hinder poor Boys from pull­ing a few dirty Nuts, what signifies 'em? Then, turning to the Challenger; his old Acquaintance; Tommy, says he, did you know that Dickey was my Brother? Yes, says Tommy, rudely, and what tho' of I did. O, nothing at all, says Harry, but I want to speak with you, Tommy. Whereup­on he took the Conqueror under the Arm, and walked away, with him, very [Page 142]lovingly, in all Appearance, looking about to take Care that none of the Boys fol­low'd him.

Mean Time, the little Gentry threw out their Invectives, in Profusion, against our departed Hero. I think, says one, that Master Harry had as much to blame in Tommy as Lord Dickey. Ay, says ano­ther, one would think he might as well have taken his Brother's Part, as that Blackguard's. Indeed, it was very naugh­ty of him, says a Third. For my Part, says a Fourth, I never will have any Thing more to say to him.

While, thus, they vilified their late Friend, he and his fellow Champion walk­ed, Arm in Arm, in a sullen and uninter­rupted Silence. Till, coming to a small Opening, in a secreted Part of the Wood, Harry quitted his Companion, desired him to strip, and, instantly, cast aside his own Hat, Coat, and Waistcoat. Why should I strip, says Tommy? To Box, says Harry. Why should you box with me, Harry? sure I didn't strike you, says Tom. Yes, Sir, replied our Hero, you struck me when you struck Dickey, and knew that he was my Brother. Nay, Harry, cried Tom, if it's Fight you are for, I'll give you enough of it, I warrant you.

[Page 143] Tom was about eight Months older than Harry, his equal in the Practice of Arms, and much the stronger. But, Harry was full as tall; and his Motions, quicker than Thought, prevented the Ward of the most experienced Adversary.

Together they rushed, like two little Tygers. At once, they struck and parri­ed, and, watching every open, they darted their little Fists, like Engines, at each other. But Tom, marking the Quickness, and feeling the Smart of Harry's Strokes, suddenly leapt within his Arm, bore him down to the Earth, and triumphantly gave him the first rising Blow.

Harry rose, indignant, but warn'd, by the Strength of his Adversary, to better Caution. He now fought, more aloof, and as Tom pressed upon him, he at once guarded, struck, and wheel'd, like an ex­perienced Cock, without quitting the Pit of Honour.

Tom, finding himself wholely foiled by this Parthian Method of Combat, again rush'd upon his Enemy, who was, now, aware of the Shock. They closed, they grappled, they caught each other by the Shoulders, join'd Head to Head, and Breast to Breast, and stood, like two Pil­lars, [Page 144]merely supported by their Bearing against one another. Again they shifted the left Arm, caught each other about the Neck, and cuffed and punch'd at Face and Stomach, without Mercy or Remission; till Tom, impatient of this Length of Battle, gave Harry a side Swing, and, Harry giv­ing Tom a Trip at the same Time, they fell Side by Side, together upon the Earth.

They rose, and retreated, to draw Breath, as by mutal Consent. They glar­ed on one another with an Eye of vindic­tive Apprehension. For neither of them could now boast of more Optics than Poliphemus; and, from their Forehead to their Shoes, they were in one Gore of Blood.

Again they flew upon each other, again they struck, foined, and defended, and al­ternately, press'd on and retreated in Turns, till Harry, spying an Open, dart­ed his Fist, like a Shot, into the remain­ing Eye of his Enemy. Tom, finding him­self in utter Darkness, instantly, sprung upon his Foe, and endeavoured to grapple; but Harry, with equal Agility, avoided the Shock, and, traversing here and there beat his Adversary at Pleasure. Till Tom cried out, I yield I yield, Harry, for I can't see to fight, any more.

[Page 145] Then, Harry took Tom by the Hand and led him to his Cloaths, and, having assisted him to dress, he, next, did the same friendly Office to himself. Then, Arm in Arm, they returned much more loving, in reality, than they set out, hav­ing been beaten into a true Respect and Affection for each other.

Sometime before this, the Footman had joined his young Lord, with the several Implements requisite for Nutting. They had, already, pulled down great Quanti­ties; the young Quality had stuffed their Pockets; and the little Plebeians, who had assisted, were now permitted to be busie in gathering up the Refuse. When all, turning at the Cry of there's Harry, there's Tom, they perceived our two Champions, advancing, leisurely, but Hand in Hand, as Friends and Brothers.

They had left their Cloaths unbuttoned, for the Benefit of the cooling Air; and, as they approached, their Companions were frozen into Astonishment, at the Sight of their two Friends all covered with Crimson.

They were neither able to advance to meet them, nor to speak, when they ar­rived. 'Till Lord Dickey, first, inquired into this bloody Catastrophe, and, Harry [Page 116]remaining wholely silent on the Subject; blind Tommy cried out, why, Master Dickey, the Truth is, that Harry, beat me, because I beat You. Then Dickey, feeling a sudden Gush of Gratitude and Affection rising up in his Bosom, look­ed wistfully on his Brother, and said, with a plaintive Voice, O Brother Harry, Brother Harry, you are sadly hurt; and, turning about, he began to weep most bitterly. But Harry said, Shaw! Brother Dickey, don't cry Man, I don't matter it of the Head of a brass Pin. Then turning to the Footman, with Tom still in his Hand, he cried, here John, take that Bag of Nuts and poor blind Tommy to my Mammy's, and tell Daddy that I desire him to see them both safe home.

Sir, your Hero is indeed a Hero, he must be every body's Hero.

Sir, you do him vast Honour; and I should be proud of your further In­structions towards his supporting the Dig­nity of the Character you give him. Pray, what are the ingredient Qualities of which a Hero is compounded? what Idea have you formed of such a Personage? tell me, I beseech you, what is a Hero, my good Friend?

[Page 147]

Pshaw!—what a Question—every Fool knows that.—A Hero is—as though one should say—a Man of high Achievement—who performs fa­mous Exploits—who does Things that are heroical—and in all his Actions and Demeanour, is a Hero indeed—why do you laugh—I will give you the Instances approved throughout the World; record­ed and duely celebrated by Poets, Painters, Sculptors, Statuaries, and Historians.—There was the Assyrian Ninus, the Sesostris of Egypt, the Cyrus of Persia, the Alexander of Greece, the Caesar of Rome, and, partly in our own Days, there was the Conde of France, the Charles of Sweden, and Persia's Kouli Kan.—What the plague does the Fellow laugh at?

I am laughing to think what a Blockhead Themistocles was. Being asked whom he considered as the greatest of Heroes; not him who conquers but who saves, replied Themistocles; not the Man who ruins but the Man who erects; who, of a Village can make a City, or turn a despicable People into a great Nation.

According to your Notion of He­roism, that Boor and Barbarian, Peter Alexiowitz of Russia, was the greatest Hero that ever lived.

[Page 148]

True, my Friend; for, of a nu­merous People, he disembruted every one, except himself. But then, in all Equity, he ought to divide his Glory with Kate the Washerwoman, who humanized the Man that humanized a Nation.

Whom do you take to have been the greatest Hero of Antiquity?

Lycurgus, without Comparison, the greatest of Heroes and the greatest of Legislators. In those very early Days, the People of Lacedaemon were extremely rude and ignorant; they acknowledged no Laws, save the Dictates of their own Will or the Will of their Rulers. Lycurgus might have assumed the Sceptre; but his Ambition aspired to a much more eleva­ted and durable Dominion, over the Souls, Manners, and Conduct of this People and their Posterity. He framed a Body of the most extraordinary Institutions that ever enteredinto the Heart or Head of Man. Next to those of our DIVINE LE­GISLATOR, they were intended to form a new Creature. He prevailed upon the Rich to make an equal Distribution of their Lands with the Poor. He prohibited the Use of all such Money as was current among other Nations, and, thereby prohi­bited [Page 149]the Importation of the Means and Materials of Pomp and Luxury. He en­joined them to feed, in common, on sim­ple and frugal Fare. He forbid all Gor­geousness of Furniture and Apparel. In short, he endeavoured to suppress every sensual and selfish Desire, by Injunctions of daily Exercise, Toil, and Hardship, a pa­tient Endurance of Pain, and a noble Con­tempt of Death. At length, feigning some Occasion of being abroad for a Sea­son, he exacted an Oath from the Lacedae­monians that they should strictly observe his Laws, without the smallest Infringe­ment, till his Return. Thus, for the love of his Country, he went into per­petual Banishment from it. And he took Measures, at his Death, that his Body should never be found, lest it should be carried back to Sparta, and give his Coun­trymen a Colour for dissolving their Oath.

Laying Peter aside, who, think you, was the greatest Hero among the Mo­derns?

To confess the Truth; among all that I have heard or read of; the Hero whom I most affect was a Madman, and the Lawgiver whom I most affect was a Fool.

[Page 150]

'Troth, I believe you never would have been the Writer you are at this Day, if you had not adopted somewhat of both the said Qualities. But, come, unriddle I beseech you; where may this favourite Hero and Legislator be found?

In a Fragment of the Spanish His­tory, bequeathed to the World by one Signior Cervantes.

O!—have you led me to my old Acquaintance? pray, has not your Pegasus some Smatch of the Qualities of the fa­mous Rosinante?

Quite as chaste, I assure you. But, I perceive that you think I am drolling; you don't suppose that you can ever be se­riously of the same Opinion. Yet, if you demand of your own Memory, for what have the great Heroes throughout History been renowned? it must answer, for Mis­chief merely, for spreading Desolation and Calamity among Men. How greatly, how gloriously, how divinely superior was our Hero of the Mancha! who went about righting of Wrongs, and redressing of Injuries, lifting up the fallen, and pulling down those whom Iniquity had exalted. In this his marvellous Undertaking, what Buffet­tings, what Bruisings, what Tramplings of [Page 151]Ribs, what pounding of Packstaves did his Bones not endure? (Mine ached at the recital.) But, Toil was his Bed of Down, and the House of Pain was, to him, a Bower of Delight, while he consider'd himself as engaged in giving Ease, Ad­vantage, and Happiness to others. If E­vents did not answer to the Enterprizes of his Heart, it is not to be imputed to the Man but to his Malady; for, had his Power and Success been as extensive as his Benevolence, all Things awry, upon Earth, at the Risque of his Limbs and Life, would instantly have been set as streight as a Cedar.

But, let me turn, with Reverence, to kiss the Hem of the Robes of the most re­spectable of all Governors and Legislators, Sancho Pansa. What Judgments! what Institutions! how are Minos, and Solon, and the inspired of the Goddess Aegeria here eclipsed! Sancho, thou wast a Peasant, thou wast illiterate, thou wast a Dunce for a Man, but an Angel for a Governor; inasmuch as, contrary to the Custom of all other Governors, thou didst not desire any Thing, thou didst not wish for any Thing, thine Eye was not bent to any Thing, save the Good of thy People! therefore thou cou'dst not stray, thou hadst no other way to travel. Could Aesop's Log have been moved to Action [Page 152]upon the same Principle, the Regency of Storks had not prevailed among Men. How am I provoked, Pansa, when I see thee insulted! how am I grieved when I find thee deposed! Saving the Realms of a certain Majesty, I say, and sigh to my­self, O, that the whole Earth were as thine Island of Barataria; and thou, Sancho, the Legislator and the Ruler thereof.

I feel Conviction. I confess it. But tell me, I pray you; why has the World, through all Ages and Nations, universally ascribed Heroism and Glory to Conquest?

Through the Respect, as I take it, that they have for Power. Man is by Nature weak; he is born in and to a State of Dependence; he therefore naturally seeks and looks about for Help; and, where he observes the greatest Power, it is there that he applies and prays for Pro­tection. Now, though this Power should be exerted to his Damage, instead of De­fence, it makes no Alteration in his Re­verence for it; he bows while he trem­bles, and while he detests he worships. In the present Case, it is with Man, as it is with God; He is not so awful and strik­ing, he is not so much attended to, in the Sunshine and gentle Dews of his Provi­dence [Page 153]and Benignity, as in his Lightnings and Thunders, his Clouds and his Tem­pests.

Hero, heros, and [...], in the three Languages, signify a Demigod, or one who is superior to mere Man. But, how can this Superiority or Distinction be shewn? The serene Acts of Beneficence, the small and still Voice of Goodness are neither accompanied by Noise nor Ostenta­tion. It is Uproar and Tumult, rather the Tumbling of sack'd Cities, the Shrieks of ravish'd Matrons, and the Groans of dying Nations that fill the Trump of Fame. Men of Power and Ambition find Distinc­tion and Glory, very readily, attainable in this Way; as it is incomparably more easy to destroy than to create, to give Death than to give Life, to pull down than to build up, to bring Devastation and Misery rather than Plenty and Peace and Prospe­rity upon Earth.

Were not Mankind, in this In­stance, as blind to their own Interests, as they were iniquitous in giving Glory where Shame alone was due?

In so doing, they proved at once the Dupes and the Victims of their own Folly. Praise a Child for his Genius in Pranks of Mischief and Malevolence, and [Page 154]you quicken him in the direct Road to the Gallows. It is just so that this wise World has bred up its heroic Reprobates, by ascribing Honour and Acclamation to Deeds that called loudy for Infamy and the Gibbet; for the World was an Ass from its very Commencement, and it will conti­nue a Dunderhead to the End.

From the Beginning of Things (a long Time ago) the joint Invention of Mankind has discovered but two Methods of procur­ing Sustenance on Earth, the First by the Labour of their own Hands, the second by employing the Hands of others.

All therefore are excluded, or at least ought to be excluded from such a World, who refuse to labour, or, what is still worse, who disturb and prevent the La­bour of Others.

Among those who will not labour, we may number all who have the Happiness of being born to no Manner of End; such as the Monks of every Country, the Der­vises of Persia, the Bramins of India, the Mandarins of China, and the Gentlemen of these free and polished Nations.

These have nothing to do but to sleep it, to wake it; to eat it, to drink it; to dance it, to doze it; to riot it, to roar [Page 155]it; and to rejoice in the happy Earnest which this World has given them of the Jollities of the next.

Among those who disturb the Labour of others, I reckon all your rascally Alex­anders and Caesars, whether antient or modern, who, in their Fits of Frenzy and Folly, scamper about, breaking the Lan­terns and beating the Watch of this World, to the great Amazement of Women and Terrour of little Children; and, who seem to think that Heaven gave Noses and Heads, for no End in Nature but to be blooded and cracked. In short, I have no Patience when I hear talk of these Fellows. I am not Half so fretted when I hear my own Works read—Go on, I request you, it may happen to put me in Temper.

CHAP. V.

THE young Gentlemen were, now, upon their Return; and, as they approached the House, they crouded about Harry to keep him from being seen, till he took an Opportunity of slipping away and stealing up to his Chamber. He now grew stiff and sore, and his Nurse, hav­ing got an Intimation of what had hap­pened, hurried up to him, and wept over him with abundant Tears of cordial Affec­tion. She strait, undressed, and put him to Bed; and, having ordered some White-Wine Whey, of which she made him drink plentifully, she, also, undressed, and went to bed to him, and Harry, cast­ing his little Arm about her Neck, and, putting his Head in her Bosom, was fast in a Twinkling.

By this, John had returned from the Execution of his Commission. He had been fully apprized by Tommy, on the Road, of all the Circumstances relating to this bloody Business; and, going to his Lord and Lady, he gave them the whole Detail, occasionally dwelling, and expatia­ting on Harry's Courage, his Prowess, his Honour, and his Generosity. They could, now, no longer forbear indulging them­selves [Page 157]with the Sight of a Child, in whom they held themselves honoured, above all Titles. They stole, gently, up Stairs; and, having got a Peep at Harry, and ob­served that he was fast asleep, they stole, as softly, back again, each inwardly exult­ing in their glorious Boy.

Our Hero was scarce recovered, from his Wounds and Bruises, when, on a Day, he met a little Beggar Boy at the Hall-Door, half naked, and whinging, and shivering with Cold. His Heart was, in­stantly, touched with wonted Compassion; and, taking him by the Hand, what is your Name, my poor little Boy, says Harry? Neddy, Sir, says the Child. And, where's your Daddy and Mammy? O, Sir, answered Ned, I have no Daddy nor Mam­my in the World wide. Don't cry, don't cry, says Harry, I have several Daddies and Mammies, and I'll give you One or Two of 'em. But, where did you leave your Cloaths, Neddy? I haven't any, Sir, replied the Child in a piteous Accent. Well well, it don't matter, Neddy, for I have more Cloaths, too, says Harry. So, taking him again by the Hand, he led him up to his Apartment, without being perceived of any; and, helping him to strip, he ran to his Closet for the Shirt which he had last thrown off, and put it on the new Comer with equal Haste and [Page 158]Delight. He, next, ran for the entire Suit that his bearded Dada had given him, and, having helped, and shewn him how to put on the Breeches, he drew on the Stockings and Shoes with his own Hands. To these succeeded the Coat and Waistcoat, and Ned was, now, full as well rigg'd as his Benefactor.

Never had our Hero enjoyed himself, so highly, as while he was thus employed. When he had finished his Operations, he chuckled and smiled, turn'd Ned, round and round, walked here and there about him, and was as proud of him, as if he had been wholely of his own making.

He now, again, became thoughtful, forecasting in his Mind the Particulars that might further be requisite for the Accommodation of his Guest; for he was grown too fond of him to think of parting suddenly. He then recollected an adjoin­ing Lumber-Room, and, taking Ned with him, they found a little old Mattress, which, with united Strength they dragged forth, and lodged in a convenient Corner of the Closet. To this they added a Pair of old Blanketts, and Harry, having spread them for Ned's Repose, in the best Man­ner he was able, asked his Dependent if he was yet hungry; Yes, very, very hungry indeed, Sir, cried Ned. No soon­er [Page 159]said, than Harry flew down to the Kitchen, and, looking about, and spying a large Porringer of Milk and a Luncheon of Bread, that one of the Servants had provided for a young Favourite of their own, he seized upon them like a Hawk, and hast'ning, again to his Chamber, de­livered them to Neddy who, already, had half devoured them with his Eyes. Ned, instantly, fell to with the Rapture of a Cormorant, or any Rapture that can be supposed less than that of his Friend Harry, who stood over him with the Feelings of a Parent Turtle; that feeds his Young with the Meat derived from his own Bowels.

For a few Days, Harry kept his Depen­dent shut up in his Chamber, or Closet, without the Privity of any of the Family, except Nurse, to whom he had reveal'd the Affair under the Seal of the strictest Secresy.

But, on a cross Day, Susy the House­maid, having entered with a new Broom into our Hero's Apartment, perceived, in a Corner, the tatter'd Deposite of Ned's original Robeings, and, lifting them, at a cautious Distance, with a Finger and Thumb, she perceived, also, as many o­ther Philosophers have done, that there is no part of this Globe which is not peo­pled with Nations of Animals, if Man [Page 160]had but Attention, and Optics duely ac­commodated to the Vision. She dropt the living Garment, as though she had ta­ken up a burning Horse Shoe; and was, instantly, peopled, by her prolific Imagi­nation, with Tribes of the same Species from Head to Foot.

In this Fit of Disgust, Susy happen'd, unfortunately, to step into the Closet, and spyed Ned in a dark Corner, where he had squatted and drawn himself up to the Size of a Hedge-hog. She, immediately flew at him, like one of the Eumenides, and dragged him forth to the Light, as Hercules is said to have haled Cacus from his Den. She questioned him, with a Voice of implacable Authority, and Ned, with humble and ingenuous Tears, con­fessed the whole Adventure. But Susy, no way melted, exclaimed, what, Sirrah, have you, and your Master Harry, a mind to breed an Affection in the House? I will remit of no such Doings, for I have an utter Conversion to Beggar-Brats and Vermil. She then commanded him to bundle up his old Raggs, and, driving him down Stairs before her, she dismissed him from the Hall-Door with a Pair of smart Boxes on each Side of his Head, and ordered him never more to Defend her Sight.

[Page 161] Poor Ned, went weeping and wailing, from the Door, when who should he see, at about fifty Paces, distant, but his be­loved Patron Harry, who had been cut­ting a Switch from the next Hedge. To him he ran, with Precipitation. Harry, touched with a Compassion not free from Resentment, to see his Favourite in Tears, demanded the Cause of his apparent Dis­tress, which Ned truely related. Our Hero, thereupon, became thoughtful and moody; and, judging that Susy had not acted thus without Authority, he conceiv­ed a general Disgust at a Family who had treated him so injuriously in the Person of his Neddy; but, comforting his Depen­dent the best he could, come Neddy, says he, don't cry, my Man; I will bring you, that I will, to my own dear Dada, and he will welcome and love you, for my Sake. Then, making his Way through a small Breach in the neighbouring Hedge, he or­dered Ned to follow him, and flew across the Field, like a Bird of Passage, in a di­rect Line to his Patron's.

The old Gentleman saw him approach­ing and gave Sign to his antient Domestic, who withdrew, with Precipitation. He received and caressed our Hero with more than usual Transport, and who, my Dear says he, is this pretty little Boy that you [Page 162]have got with you? Harry, then, like the Grecian Demosthenes, taking Time to warm himself with the Recollection of his own Ideas, and, setting his Person forth with an Action and Ardour that determined to pre­vail, made the following Oration.

Why, Dada, I must tell you as how this poor little Boy, for he is a very poor little Boy, and his Name is Neddy, Sir, and he has no Friend in the wide World but you and I, Sir; and, so Sir, as I was telling you, he comes to the Door, crying sadly for Cold and Hunger, and he would have pitied every Body, for he had no Cloaths, nor Daddy nor Mammy at all, Sir, and I had a many of them, and that wasn't fair, you know, Sir; and I was in the Humour to give him all the Dadas and Mamas I had in the World, ex­cept you, Sir; and Mammy Nurse. And so, I takes him up Stairs, and I puts the Cloaths upon him, that you gave me, when I was a poor little Boy, Sir; for no Body had to say to 'em, but you and I, Sir; and I knew that you would pity poor little Neddy, more than I pitied him my­self, Sir. And so, Dada, they takes my poor little Neddy to Day, and boxed him, and beat him sadly, and turned him out of Doors; and so I meets him crying and roaring, and so, you know, Sir, as how [Page 163]I had nothing to do, but to bring him to you, Sir, or to stay, and cry with him for Company, Sir.

Here, Orator Harry ceased to speak, except by his Tears, which he could no longer restrain, and which proceeded to plead most emphatically for him. But, his Patron took him in his Arms, and kissed the Drops from both Eyes, and said, don't cry, my Darling, for I am yours, my Harry, and all that I have is yours, and, if you had brought a whole Regiment of poor little Neddies, with you, they should be all welcome to me, for your Sake, my Harry.

Then Harry sprung up, and caught his Patron about the Neck, so that it was some Time before the old Gentleman could get loose. But, Harry, says he, I am going just now to leave this Country; will you and your Man Neddy come along with me? Over the World wide, Dada, says Harry; but where are you going, Sir? I am going a Begging, Harry. O, that will be brave Sport, says Harry, I'll tell you what you shall do, Dada. What's that, my Love? Why, Sir, says Harry, you must get a great Bag, like the old Man and little Child that was at Door, 'tother Day. And Neddy and I will beg for you, Sir; and we will put all that we [Page 164]get into your great Bag, as that good lit­tle Child did for his Daddy, without touching a Bit; though he was a hungry enough, himself, poor Fellow, I warant. But don't let us go to beg to Papa's Door, Sir; for, if you do, they will box and beat us, and drive us away, as they did to poor little Neddy, to Day, Sir.

The old Gentleman, thereat, had his Countenance divided betwixt the rising Tear and the bursting Laugh. But, taking Harry by the Hand, he said. No no, my heavenly Creature, I am not going to beg of any Man living, but to beg of God to pour down his full Weight of Blessings upon my Harry, and, to endea­vour to confirm them to him, both here and hereafter, by my Care and Instructions.

Having thus spoken, he put a large Cake into the Hand of each of the Chil­dren, and, causing them to drink a full Glass of small White-Wine, he took them into a back Yard, where a light Coach with six Horses and three Servants, ready mounted, attended. And, having placed his young Companions, and seated himself between them, away the Coach drove, at a sweeping Gallop.

About the Time that our Hero and his Patron set out, Nurse went up Stairs, [Page 165]with a most bountiful Cut, of Home­baked Bread and Butter; for the Amuse­ment of the young Caitiff whom she had left in the Closet; but not finding him there, she hastily dropped her Provinder on the first Window she met, and, hurry­ing down to the Kitchen, earnestly enquir­ed for the little Beggar-Boy whom Master Harry had taken into his Service; at this Question all the Servants stood in silent A­mazement, except Susy, who, bridling up, and assuming the whole Importance of her Station. Why, Nurse, says she, you mustn't oppose that I am come here, to sweep and to clean after lousy little Fla­grants, it was enough to breed an Anta­gion, that it was, in the House; so what magnifies many Words, I took the little dirty Bastard and cuff'd him out of Doors. You did Hussey, says Nurse, you dare to affront and vex my Child, my little Man, the Honour and Pride of all the Family? And, so saying, she ups with her brawny Arm, and gave Susy such a Douse on the Side of the Head, as left her fast asleep for an Hour and upward. Then running up Stairs, again, she went, searching and clamouring, for her Harry, about the House, in order to comfort and condole with him for his Loss.

Dinner was now served up, and the Company seated, and all the Servants ran [Page 166]severally, here and there, repeatedly sum­moning Master Harry to attend. But, Harry was out of Hearing, by many a Mile. When the Cloth was removed, Nurse entered with an Aspect, half in Tears and half distracted, and exclaimed that her Child was not to be found. And what, Nurse, says the Earl, do you think is become of him? I hope, my Lord, says she, that he is either strayed to his Daddy, or to the dumb Gentleman's. Then, Messengers were, instantly, dispatched to both Houses, who speedily returned, with Tidings, that Master Harry had not been seen at his Foster-father's, and that no one was at Home at the House of the Dumb Gentleman.

The Business, now, became serious, and alarming; the whole House was in Com­motion, and all the Domestics, and our Hero's loving Nurse, with Lord Dickey in her Hand, ran searching through the Gar­dens, the Fields, and the Groves, that re­sounded, on all Sides, with the Name of the Absentee.

On their Return from a Disquisition, as fruitless as solicitous, Nurse declared her Apprehensions, that Harry was gone off, with a little favourite Boy whom he had taken into Service, and whom the House [Page 167]Maid, that Morning, had beaten out of Doors. Susy, being nearly recovered, and now called and questioned, hereon, was compelled to confess the Fact, though in Terms less haughty and less elegant, than usual; when my Lord, looking sternly at her, and who, you Strumpet, he cried, gave you Authority to turn any one out of my House whom my noble and gene­rous Boy was pleased to bring in? get you instantly away, and never let me be so un­happy as to see that Face again.

By this Time, the whole Village and Neighbourhood, as well as this noble Fa­mily, were in Trouble and Alarms for the Loss of their little Favourite; when a Countryman enter'd in sweaty Haste and desired, without Preface, to be admitted to the Earl. My Lord, says he, I think I can give you some News of your dear Child. As I was returning Home on the London Road, I saw a Coach and Six driv­ing towards me at a great rate, and, though it passed me in Haste, I marked that the Gentleman with the Beard, was in it, and that he had two Children with him, one on each Hand, though I had not Time to observe their Faces.

Here is something for your News, said the Earl, it may be as you say.—Here, John! take a Posse of the Servants along [Page 168]with you. Go in Haste to that Man's House. If no one answers, break open the Door; and bring me Word of what you can learn concerning him.

John, who was the House Steward, hurried instantly on his Commission; and, finding all in Silence, after loud and re­peated Knockings, he and his Myrmidons burst open the Door, and rushing in ran up and down through all the Apartments. They found the House richly furnished, a Library of choice Books above Stairs, a Buffet full of massy Plate, and every Thing in Order as if prepared for the Re­ception of a Family of Distinction. At this they all stood astonished, till John, casting his Eye toward a Table in the Street Parlour, perceived a Paper which he hastily snatched up, and found to be a Letter, duely folded and sealed and ad­dressed to his Lord. Exulting at this Dis­covery, he left some of the Servants to watch the Goods, and hurried back with all possible Speed to his Master.

My Lord, says John entring, and striv­ing to recover Breath, the dumb Gentle­man, as they call him, must be a main rich Man, for the very Furniture of his House cannot be worth less than some Thousands of Pounds. John then pre­sented [Page 169]the Letter, which the Earl hastily broke open, and found to be, as follows:

The Mystery of our Hero's Flight was now, in a great Measure unravelled; but no one could form any rational Conjecture, touching the Motive of the old Gentle­man's Procedure in the Case; and all were staggered at his leaving such a Mass of Wealth behind him.

As the falling on of a dark Night ren­dered all Pursuit, for that Time, imprac­ticable; my Lord order'd the Servants to Bed, that they might rise before Day; and then to take every Horse he had, Coach-Cattle and all, and to muster and mount the young Men of the Village, and to pursue after the Fugitives, by different Roads, according to the best Likelihood or Intelligence they might receive.

In this hopeful Prospect, the House was again in some Measure composed; all, ex­cept poor Nurse who would not be com­forted, neither could be prevailed upon to enter in at the Doors; but all Night, on the cold Stairs, or rambling through the raw Air, continued clapping and wringing [Page 171]her Hands, and bewailing the irreparable Loss of her Harry.

On the following Day, my Lord or­dered a minute Inventory to be taken of all the Furniture in the forsaken Mansion-House; and further appointed Harry's Fos­ter-father, with his Family, to enter into Possession, and to take Care of the Effects, till such Time as the Proprietor should re­new his Claim.

After three tedious Days, and as many expecting Nights, the Posse that went in quest of our Runaways returned; all, drooping and dejected, most of them slow­ly leading their overspent Horses, and uni­versally bespatter'd or cover'd with Mire, without any Equivalent of comfortable Ti­dings to balance the Weight of their Lan­gour and Fatigue.

The Happiness or Wretchedness of hu­man Life, as it should seem, does not so much depend on the Loss or Acquisition of real Advantage, as on the fluctuating Opinions and Imaginations of Men. The Absence of this Infant who, but a few Months before, had no Manner of Interest in the Views, Affections, or Solicitudes of this noble Family, appeared now as the Loss of all their Honours and Fortunes. A general Face of Mourning seemed to dar­ken [Page 172]every Apartment; and my Lord and Lady no more paid Visits, nor received public Company. They were however inventive in many Contrivances for amu­sing and consoling their darling Dickey, but even this was to little Purpose, for he was often found silently languishing in Corners; or crying, O, where's my Brother Harry, my own sweet Brother Harry, shall I never see my own Brother Harry any more?

My Lord had already dispatched a Mul­titude of circular Letters to all his Ac­quaintances, with other Notices, through­out the Kingdom, containing Offers of ample Rewards for the Recovery of his Child. But, finding all ineffectual, he caused Advertisements, to the same Pur­pose, to be repeatedly inserted in all the public Papers; as the same, no doubt, are still extant, and may be found in the musty Chronicles of those Days.

Within a few Weeks after the publish­ing of these Advertisements my Lord re­ceived a Letter, respecting his Son Harry, that afforded great Consolation to him and his Lady; insomuch, that, with the Help of the lenient Hand of Time, in less than the Space of twelve Months, this noble Family were restored to their former Chearfulness and Tranquillity.

[Page 173] But, to return to the Situation in which we left our Hero: The Coach drove on, at a round Rate, and the Children conti­nued in high Glee, and thought this kind of Conveyance the finest Sport imaginable.

When they had entered, a Space, on the first Common, the Coachman looked about, to take Care that no one was in Sight; and, turning to the right Hand, he held gently on, till he came to another great Road, on which he drove at his former Rate. This he did, again, at the next Common, and, coming to another Road that led, also, to London, and Night now approaching, he put up at the first great Inn he came to.

Harry's Patron had the Precaution to keep his great Coat muffled about his Face, so that no one could observe his Beard, till they were shewn to a Room, and Fire and Candles were lighted up. Then, his ancient Friend and Domestic, having provided Scissars and Implements for Shaving, locked the Door and set to Work in the Presence of the Children.

Harry was all Attention, during the whole Process; and when the Operation was quite compleated, he drew near to his Patron, with a cautious kind of Jealousy, [Page 174]and, looking up to his Face, with the Tears in his little Eyes, speak to me, Sir, says he, pray speak to me. It is, answer­ed the old Gentleman, the only Comfort of my Life to be with you and to speak to you, my Harry. The Child, hearing the well known Voice of Friendship, im­mediately cleared again, and, reaching up his little Arms to embrace his Patron; O, indeed, says he, I believe you are my own Dada still.

Though Harry was, now, reconciled to the Identity of his Friend, yet he felt a se­cret Regret for the Absence of his Beard. For he loved all and every Part, of him, so entirely, that the Loss of a Hair ap­peared a Loss and a Want to the Heart of Harry.

After an early Supper, and two or three small Glasses of Wine per Man; this Gen­tleman, whom his Servants had now an­nounced by the Name of Mr. Fenton, be­came all Things in all with his young Companions. He delighted them with se­veral entertaining Tricks. He put the Point of a large Needle to the Edge of a drinking Glass, and then, placing the Centre of a Pewter Plate on the Top of the Needle, he began to turn it about, with an encreasing Motion, till it whirled round, at a Rapidity that was altogether [Page 175]joyous and amazing to the little Spectators. He, next, turned two Plates with their Faces to each-other, and, placing them on the Brim of a large Beer-Glass, he put an Egg upon the Plates, and, giving the Plates a slight Stroke, with the Side of his Hand, the Plates, instantly flew from between the Glass and the Egg, and the Egg fell plumb into the Glass, without the smallest Fracture.

After some other of the like Fooleries, the Table was removed; and, as the Room was very large, Mr. Fenton proposed Hide and go seek to his Associates. This Invitation was accepted with Transport, and, after they were cloy'd with Hide and seek, they all play'd Tagg till they were well warmed.

Mr. Fenton then ordered a Pallet into the Chamber, for James, his faithful Do­mestic, and little Ned. Then, helping to undress Harry, he put him, first, to Bed; and, hastening after, he took his Darling to his Bosom, and tenderly pressed him to a Heart that loved him more than all the World, and more than that World ten times told.

In about three Days more, they arriv­ed safe, at Hamsted, and stopping at the Court of a large House, that was delight­fully situated, they were welcomed by a [Page 176]Gentlewomanly looking Matron, whom James had fixed for Housekeeper, about a Fortnight before.

The next Day, Mr. Fenton and his blithe Companions were attended at Table by James and the two Footmen.

As soon as the latter Grace was said, and the Cloth taken away; Harry, says Mr. Fenton, it is now our turn to wait on James and his Fellow Servants. For God made us all to be Servants to each other, and one Man is not born a Bit better than another, and he is the best and greatest of all who serves and attends the most, and requires least to be served and attended upon. And, my Precious, he, that is a King to Day, if so it shall please God, may become a Beggar To-morrow, and it is good that People should be prepared a­gainst all that may happen.

Having so said, he took his Associates down to the Hall, just as the Servants had sat down to Dinner. He gave his Domes­tics the Wink, and, beginning to set the Example, asked Mrs. Hannah, and Mr. James, and Mr. Frank, and Mr. Andrew, what they would please to have? The Servants, readily falling in with their Mas­ter's Scheme, ordered Harry to bring such a Thing, and Ned to fetch such a Thing, [Page 177]and Harry to do this, and Harry to do that. While Harry, with a graceful Action, and more beautiful than Ganymede the Cup-Bearer of the Gods, flew chearfully about, from Side to Side, preventing the Wishes of all at Table; so that they poured upon him a thousand Blessings from the Bottom of their Hearts, and, would now scarce have parted with him for the mighty Re­wards, which his Father, some Time af­ter, proposed for his Recovery.

Within a Fortnight after this, Mr. James, the House Steward, had furnish­ed a large Lumber-Room with thousands of Coats, out-Coats, Shirts, Waistcoats, Breeches, Stockings, and Shoes, of diffe­rent Sorts and Sizes, but all of warm and clean, though homely Materials.

When this was done, Mr. Fenton led his Favourite up to the Stores, and said; my Harry, you see all these Things, and I make a Present of all these Things to my Harry. And, now tell me, my Love, what will you do with them? Why, Dada, says Harry, you know that I can't wear them myself. No, my Dear, says Mr. Fenton, for, you have Clothes enough be­side, and some of them would not fit you, and others would smother you. What then will you do with them, will you burn [Page 178]them, or throw them away? O, that would be very naughty and wicked indeed, says Harry. No, Dada, as I don't want 'em, myself, I will give 'em, to those that do. That will be very honestly done of you, says Mr. Fenton, for, in Truth they have a better Right to them, my Harry, than you have, and that, which you can­not use, cannot belong to you. So that, in giving you these Things, my Darling, it should seem, as if I made you no Gift at all. O, a very sweet Gift, says Harry. How is that, says Mr. Fenton; why, the Gift of doing Good to poor People, Sir. Mr. Fenton, then, stepping back, and, gaz­ing on our Hero, cryed; whoever attempts to instruct thee, my Angel, must, himself, be instructed of Heaven, who speaks by that sweet Mouth.

But, Harry, it would not be discreet of you to give these Things to the common Beggars who come every Day to our Door; give them Victuals and Half-Pence or Pence a-piece, and welcome. But, if you give such Beggars twenty Suits of Clothes, they will cast them all off, and put on their Raggs, again, to move Peo­ple to pity them. But, when you spy any poor Travellers going the Road, and, that your Eye-sees that they are naked, or your Heart tells you that they are hun­gry; then, do not wait till they beg of [Page 179]you, but go and beg of them to favour you with their Acceptance; then take them in, to the Fire, and warm them, and feed them; and, when you have so done, take them up to your Store-Room, and cloath them with whatever you think they want. And, believe me, my Harry, when­ever you are cold, or hungry, or wounded, or in want, or in Sickness, yourself; the very Remembrance of your having cloathed, and fed, and cured, and comforted, the naked and the hungry, the wounded, and the afflicted, will be Warmth, and Food, and Medicine, and Balm to your own Mind.

While Mr. Fenton spoke, the Muscles of Harry's expressive Countenance, like an equally tuned Instrument, uttered Unisons to every Word he heard.

From this Day forward, Harry and Ned, by Turns, were frequently out on the Watch; and, often single, or in Pairs, or by whole Families, Harry would take in a poor Father and Mother, with their help­less Infants, driven perhaps from House and Home, by Fire, or other Misfortune, or oppressive Landlord, or ruthless Credi­tor; and, having warmed, and fed, and cloathed, and treated the Old-Ones as his Parents, and the Little-Ones as his Bro­thers and Sisters, he would give them ad­ditional Money, for Charges on the Road, [Page 180]and send them away the happiest of all People except himself.

By this Time, Mr. Fenton had inquired into the Circumstances and Characters of all the Poor in the Town and throughout the Precincts, and, having refuted or con­firmed the Intelligence he had received, by a personal Inspection and Visit from House to House, and, having made Entries of all such, as he deemed real Objects and wor­thy of his Benificence, he invited the Heads of the several Families to take a Dinner with him, every Sunday, at his Hall.

On the following Sunday, there came a­bout thirty of these Visitants, which Num­ber soon encreased to fifty weekly Guests.

On entring, they found the Cloth ready spread, and Mr. James, having counted Heads, laid a Crown, in Silver, upon e­very Plate; which first Course was a most relishing Sauce to all that followed. A plentiful Dinner was then introduced, and, the Guests being seated, Mr. Fenton, Harry, Ned, and the four Domestics at­tended, and disposed themselves, in a Manner the most ready to supply the Wants of the Company. The Guests, all abashed and confounded at what they saw, sat, some Time, with open Mouth, and [Page 181]unswallowed Victuals, much less did they presume to apply to the Waiters for any Article they wanted; till, being encou­raged and spirited up, by the Chearful­ness, Ease, and Readiness of their Atten­dants, they became, by Degrees, quite happy and jovial; and, after a saturating Meal, and an enlivening Cup, they de­parted, with elevated Spirits, with huma­nized Manners, and with Hearts warmed, in Affection, toward ev'ry Member of this extraordinary House.

By the means of this weekly Bounty, these reviving Families were soon enabled to clear their little Debts, to the Chand­lers, which had compelled them to take up every Thing at the dearest Hand. They, were, also, further enabled to pur­chase Wheels and other Implements, with the Materials of Flax and Wool, for employing the late idle Hands of their Houshold. They, now, appeared decent­ly clad, and with happy Countenances. Their Wealth encreased with their Indus­try. And the Product of the Employment of so many late useless Members became a real Accession of Wealth to the Public. So true it is, that the Prosperity of this World, and, of every Nation and Society, therein, depends, soley, on the Industry or Manufactures of the Individuals. And, so much more nobly did this private Patron [Page 182]act, than all ancient Legislators, or mo­dern Patriots, and Landlords; whose Selfishness, if they had but common Cun­ning, or common Sense, might instruct them to encrease their proper Rents, and enrich their native Country, by supplying the Hands of all the Poor, within their In­fluence, with the Implements and Materi­als of the Prosperity of each.

In the mean Time, Mrs. Hannah, daily, instructed the Children in the Reading of English. Neither was Mr. Fenton inatten­tive to any Means that might preserve and promote the Health, Action, and corporal Excellencies of his little Champion.

He held a large Lawn, behind his Gar­den: and, hither he summoned, three Times in every Week, all the Boys of the Vicinage, that were within two Years, advanced above the Age of our Hero. To these he appointed Premiums for Football, Hurling, Wrestling, Leaping, Running, Cudgelling, and Buffing. But the Champi­ons were enjoined to invest their Fists with little Mufflers, insomuch, that, how great soever their Vigour might be, the Bruises that they gave stopped short of Mortality.

Now, though these Premiums were, al­most, universally adjudged to the Party of which Harry then happened to be a Mem­ber, [Page 183]or, individually, to himself for his single Prowess and Preeminence. Yet, he never would consent to bear the Prize from the Field; but, either gave it to some Fa­vourite among those, with whom he had been associated; or to the particular Champion whom he had worsted in Con­test. For he felt the Shame and Defeat of his mortified Adversary, and consolingly hinted at the Injustice of the Judges, and reformed their Error, by the Restoration of the Reward.

One Day, while Harry was watching to intercept poor Travellers, as eagerly as a Fowler watches for the rising of his Game; he heard a plaintive Voice, behind the Hedge, as he thought, in the oppo­site Field. He flew across the Road, and, passing through a small Turnstile soon found the unhappy Objects he sought for. He stood, for some Time, like a Statue, and his Compassion became too strong for Tears or Utterance: but, suddenly turn­ing, and flying back again, he rushed, with Precipitation, into the Room where Mr. Fenton was writing a Letter. What is the Matter, said Mr. Fenton, starting, what has frighted you, my Harry, what makes you look so pale? To this Harry replied not, but catching hold of his Hand, and pulling, with all his Force, O come, says he, O come, Dada, and see.

[Page 184] Mr. Fenton then got up, and suffered himself to be led where the Child pleased to conduct him, without another Word being asked or answered on either Side.

When they were come into the Field, Mr. Fenton observ'd a Man sitting on the Ground. His Clothes seemed, from Head to Foot, as the tattered Remainder of bet­ter Days. Through a squalid Wig, and Beard, his pale Face appeared just tinctured with a faint and sickly Red. And, his hollow Eyes were fixed upon the Face of a Woman, whose Head he held on his Knees; and, who looked to be dead, or dying, though without any apparent Ago­ny; while a male Infant, about four Years of Age, was half stretched on the Ground, and half across the Woman's Lap, with its little Nose pinched by Famine, and its Eyes staring about, wildly, though without Attention to any Thing. Distress seemed to have expended its utmost Bit­terness on these Objects, and the last Sigh and Tear to have been, already, exhausted.

Unhappy Man, cried Mr. Fenton, pray, who or what are you? to which the Stran­ger, faintly, replied; without lifting his Eyes. Whoever you may be, disturb not the last Hour of those who wish to be at Peace.

[Page 185] Run, Harry, says Mr. Fenton, desire all the Servants to come to me, immediately; and bid Mrs. Hannah bring some Hartshorn and a Bottle of Cordial.

Away flew Harry, like feathered Mer­cury, on his Godlike Errand. Forth issued Mr. James, Frank, and Andrew. And last came Mrs. Hannah, with the House-Maid and Cordials.

Hannah stooped, in Haste, and applied Hartshorn to the Nose of the Woman, who appeared wholly insensible. After some Time, her Bosom heaved with a long-rising and subsiding Sigh, and her Eyes feebly opened, and immediately closed, again. Then Hannah and the House-Maid, raising her gently between them, got a little of the Cordial into her Mouth, and bending her, backward, they observ'd that she swallowed it. Then James, Frank, Andrew, and the House-Maid, joining their Forces, lifted her up, and bore her, as easy as possible, toward the House. While Harry caught up her Infant, as a Pissmire does its favourite Embryo, in a Time of Distress, in order to lodge it in a Place of Protection and Safety.

[Page 186] In the mean Time Mr. Fenton and Mrs. Hannah put their Hartshorn, with great Tenderness, to the Nostrils of the Stran­ger, and requested him to take a Sup of the Cordial. But, he, turning up his dim, though expressive Eyes, feebly cried, are you a Man or an Angel? and directly faint­ed away.

They rubbed his Temples, with the Spirits, and did their utmost to recover him, but a sudden Gust of grateful Pas­sion had proved too strong for his Con­stitution. On the Return of the Servants he was, also, carried in. A Physician was, instantly, sent for; Beds were provided and warmed, in haste; the new Guests were all, gently, undrest and laid therein; and, being compelled to swallow a little Sack Whey, they recovered to a kind of languid Sensibility.

The Physician gave it, as his Opinion, that this unhappy Family were reduced to their present State, by Excess of Grief and Famine. That Nourishment should be ad­ministered, in very small Proportions. And, that they should be kept as quiet, as possible, for a Fortnight at least.

WHILE all imaginable Care is taking for the Recovery of these poor People. [Page 187]We beg leave to return to the Affairs of their Protectors.

A Plague upon your return! This is just like a Man in whose Company I once travelled; we were advanced on our Journey, in a fair and happy Road, when he took it into his Head to ride back a­gain, in search of an old Glove. Here you have raised my Curiosity to the high­est, and equally distressed me in favour of this unhappy Family, when, in the Instant, you fly off from the Satisfaction expected. But here also, I presume, you are upon Honour; you are entrusted with Secrets, and would not for the World betray them to your Readers.

Sir, you never were more mis­taken. I know nothing at all of these People's Affairs. As soon as they are able they will speak for themselves. I know of no Advantage that they can get by their Silence, whatever they may derive from your Compassion and Generosity by telling their Case. But the Doctor, for the present, will not permit them. — Pro­ceed, my Friend, I pray you. Your Pati­ence will have but a very short Trial.

CHAP. VI.

ABOUT a Month before this, Mr. Fenton had engaged one Mr. Vindex, the Schoolmaster of the Town, to come, for an Hour every Evening, and initiate the two Boys in their Latin Grammar. But, he had a special Caution given him, with respect to the generous Disposition of our Hero, which was said to be induced to do any Thing, by Kindness; but to be hardened and rouzed into Opposition by Severity.

In about ten Days after the late Ad­venture, Mr. Fenton was called to London, where he was detained, about three Weeks, in settling his Books with his Dutch-Cor­respondents; and in calling in a very large Arrear of Interest, that was due to him upon his Deposits in the Funds.

During his Absence, Mr. Vindex began to assume a more expanded Authority, and gave a freer Scope to the surly Ter­rors of his Station.

Ned was, by Nature, a very lively, but very petulant Boy; and when Vindex, [Page 189]reproved him with the imperial Brow and Voice of the great Mogul, Ned, cast upon him an Eye of such significant Contempt, as no Submissions or Sufferings, on the Part of the Offender, could ever after com­pensate.

The next Day, Mr. Vindex returned, doubly armed, with a monstrous birch Rod, in one Hand, and a Ferule in the other. The first he hung up, in Terro­rem, as a Meteor is said to hang in the Heavens, threatening future Castigation to the Children of Men. The second he held, as determined upon present Action; nor was he unmindful of any Hook, whereon to hang a Fault; so that, travelling from Right to Left, and from Left to Right, he so warmed the Hands of the unfortunate Edward, as ruined the funny Oeconomy of his Countenance, and reduced him to a disagreeable Partnership with the Afflicted.

On the Departure of Vindex, though Ned's Drollery was dismayed, his Resent­ment was, by no Means, eradicated. For the Principle of Ned was wholly agreeable to the Motto of a very noble Escutcheon, and, Nemo me impune lacessit, was a Maxim, of whose Impropriety not Saint Anthony, himself, could persuade him.

[Page 190] All Night he lay ruminating, and brood­ing on Mischief in his Imagination, and, having formed the Outlines of his Plan to­ward Morning, he began to chuckle, and comfort himself, and exult in the Execu­tion. He, then, revealed his Project to his Bedfellow, Mr. James, who was greatly tickled therewith, and promised to join in the Plot.

Full against the Portal, that opened up­on the School-Room, there stood an anci­ent and elevated Chair, whose Form was sufficiently expressive of its Importance. Mr. Vindex had selected this majestic Piece of Furniture as, alone, suitable to the Dig­nity of his exalted Station. For he judici­ously considered that, if Thrones and Benches were taken from among Men, there would be an End of all Dominion and Justice up­on Earth.

Through the Centre of the Seat, of this Chair of Authority, Ned got Mr. James to drill a small Hole, not discernible, ex­cept on a very minute Scrutiny. He then provided a cylindrial Stick of about six Inches in length, to one End of which he fastened a Piece of Lead, and, in the other End he fixed the Head of a large Needle. This Needle had been a Glover's, of ap­proved [Page 191]Mettle, keen, and polished, and three-square, toward the Point, for a quick and ready Penetration of tough Leather. He, next, fastened two small Chords, transversly, to the leaden Extremity of the Stick, and, James assisting, they turned the Chair with the Bottom upward, and tacked the four Ends of the Chords, in such a manner, as answered to the four Cardinal Points of the Compass; while the Stick remained suspended in an upright Direction, with the Point of the Needle just, so far, through the Drill, as put it upon a Level with the Surface of the Seat. Lastly, they fastened a long, and well waxed, Thread about the Middle of the Stick, and, drawing this Thread over the upper Rung, they dropped the End of it, just under Ned's Stool; and replaced the Seat of Learning in its former Position.

Greatly did Ned parade it, when, on Trial, he found that his Machine answer­ed to a Miracle; for, the Stick being re­strained from any Motion, save that in a Direction to the Zenith; on the slightest Twitch of the Thread, the Needle, in­stantly, mounted four Sixths of two Inches above the Surface of the Seat, and was, as quickly, recalled by the Revulsion of the Lead.

[Page 192] At the appointed Hour of Magisterial Approach, in comes Mr. Vindex. Master Harry and Ned are called. Each seizes his Book; and takes his Seat as usual in a Line nearly, diagonal to the right and left Corner of the Chair of Authority. Mr. Vindex assumes the Chair. But, scarce was he down, when Ned gives the pre­meditated Intimation to his Piercer, and up bounces Vindex, and gives two or three Capers, as though he had been suddenly stung by a Tarantula. He stares wildly about; puts his Hand behind him, with a Touch of tender Condolance; returns to the Chair; peers all over it with Eyes of the most prying Inspection; but, not trust­ing to the Testimony of his occular Sense, in a Case that, so very feelingly, refuted its Evidence, he moved his Fingers over and over every Part of the Surface; but found all smooth and fair, in Spight of the late sensible Demonstration to the contrary.

Down again, with slow Caution, subsid­ed Mr. Vindex, reconnoitring the Premisses, to the right Hand, and to the left.

As his Temper was not, now, in the most duleet Disposition; he, first, looked sternly at Ned, and, then turning toward Harry, with an Eye that sought Occasion for present Quarrel, he questioned him, [Page 193]morosely, on some Articles of his Lesson. When Ned, not enduring such an Indig­nity to the Patron of his Life and Fortunes, gave a second Twitch, with better Will, and much more lively than at first; and up, again, sprung Vindex, with redoubled Vigour and Action, and bounded, plung­ed, and pranced about the Room, as be­witch'd. He glared, and searched all a­bout, with a frantic Penetration, and por­ed into every Corner for the visible or in­visible Perpetrators of these Mischiefs. He, now, began to imagine that some Devil wanted a Pincushion, and proposed no o­ther, for the Purpose, than his capacious Material.

In this Thought, he retreated to the next Chamber, stripped off his Clothes, his Shoes, and Breeches, and, to know whe­ther a Lodgment had been duely made; he groped for the Heads of the supposed Weapons. He next searched his Breeches, and every Skirt and posterior Fold of Coat and Waistcoat. But, finding the Coasts clear of any Ensigns of Hostility, he writhed and twisted his Head and Eyes to this Side and to that to discern, if possi­ble, the Devastations that had been made in the Field of Honour; when, hearing a little Titter in the neighbouring School Room, he began to smell a Fox, and, dressing himself again, with a malignant [Page 194]Determination of better Note for the Fu­ture, he returned with a Countenance of dissembled Placability, and, resuming his Chair, began to examine the Boys, with a Voice apparently tuned by good-Temper and Affection.

During this short Serene, poor Ned hap­pened to make a little Trip in his Rudi­ments; when Vindex turned, and cried, to our Hero, Master Harry, my Dear, be so kind to get up and reach me you Ferrule.

These Words had not fully passed the Lips of the luckless Pedagogue, when Ned plucked the String with his utmost Force, and Vindex thought himself, at least, im­paled on the Spot. Up he shot, once more, like a sudden Pyramid of Flame. The Ground could no longer retain him, he soared aloft, roared, raved, cursed, and swore, like a thousand Infernals. While Ned, with an Aspect of the most condoling Hypocricy, and Words, broke by a Tone of Mourning, tenderly inquired of his Ail­ments.

Vindex turned upon him an Eye of jea­lous Malignity, and taking a sudden Thought, he flew to the Scene of his re­peated Infliction, and, turning up the Bottom of the Seat of Pain, this compli­cated Effort of extraordinary Genius lay [Page 195]revealed, and exposed to vulgar Contem­plation.

He first examined, minutely, into the Parts and Construction of this wonderful Machinery, whose Efficacy he still, so feel­ingly, recollected. He then, drew the String; and admired, with what a pier­cing Agility the Needle could be actuated by so distant a Hand. And, lastly, and deliberately, he tore away, Piece by Piece, the whole Composition, as his rascally Bre­thren, the Turks, have also done, in their Antipathy to all the Monuments of Arts, Genius, and Learning throughout the Earth.

In the mean while, our Friend Edward sat trembling and frying in his Skin. All his Drollery had forsaken him; nor had he a single Cast of Contrivance, for evading the Mountain of Mischiefs that he saw im­pending. How indeed could he palliate? what had he to hope or plead in mitigati­on of the Penalty? where, in the Party, so highly offended, he saw his Judge and his Executioner.

Mr. Vindex had now the Ball wholly at his own Foot, and, that Ned was ever to have his Turn again, was a Matter no way promised by present Appearances.

[Page 196] Vindex, at length, looked smilingly a­bout him, with much Fun in his Face, but more Vengeance at his Heart. Mr. Ed­ward, said he, perhaps you are not yet ap­prized of the Justice of the Jewish Laws, that claim an Eye for an Eye, and a Breech for a Breech; but I, my Child, will fully instruct you in the Fitness and Pro­priety of them.

Then, reaching at the Rod, he seized his shrinking Prey, as a Kite trusses a Robin; he laid him, like a little Sack a­cross his own Stool, off go the Breeches, and, with the left Hand he holds him down, while the Right is laid at him with the Application of a Woodman who re­solves to clear Part of the Forest before Noon.

Harry, who was no way privy to the Machination of the Needle, now approach­ed, and interposed in behalf of his unhap­py Servant. He petitioned, he kneeled, he wept; but his Prayers and Tears were cast to the Winds and the Rocks, till Vindex had reduced the Posteriors of poor Ned, to a Plight little different from those of Saint Bartholemew.

Mr. Vindex justly deemed that he had, now, given a Lesson, of such ample In­struction, [Page 197]as might dispense with his Pre­sence for some Days at least.

In the mean Time, the Scalping of Ned's Bottom held him confined to his Bed, where he had full Time, and Leisure, to contrive, with one End, a just and wor­thy Retribution for the Sufferings of the other.

Harry went, often, to sit, and condole with Ned in this the Season of his Calimi­ty; and, as he had, now, conceived a strong Aversion to the Pedagogue, on Ac­count of his Barbarity; he offered to assist his Friend in any Measures deemed ade­quate to the Stripes and Injuries he had received.

The House of Mr. Vindex was a large and old-fashioned Building, with a steep Flight of Stone-Stairs, and a spacious Landing-place before the Door. Ned was again on his Legs, the Night was excessive dark, and the Family of the Preceptor had just finished an early Supper.

About this Time, a gentle Rapping was heard, and a Servant, opening the Door, looked this Way, and that Way, and called out repeatedly, to know who was there; but, no Voice replying, he retired and shut all to again. Scarce was he [Page 196] [...] [Page 197] [...] [Page 198]re-enter'd when he hears Rap, rap, rap, rap. The Fellow's Anger was now kindled, and, opening the Door suddenly, he bounced out at once, in order to seize the Run-away. But, seeing no Creature, he began to feel a coming Chilness, and his Hairs to stir, as tho' each had got the Life of an Eel. Back he slunk, closed the Door with the greatest Tenderness, and crept down to reveal a Scantling of his Fears to his Fellows in the Kitchen.

Now, though Men and Maids laugh'd, heartily, at the Apprehensions of Hodge; they yet resented this Insult on their House, as they called it, and, getting all up to­gether in a Group, they slily, crouded be­hind the Door, with the Latch in one of their Hands, ready to issue, in an Instant, and detect the Delinquents.

They were not suffered to freeze. Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock. Open fly's the Door, and out rush the Ser­vants. Nothing appear'd. They all stood, silent, and astonished beyond Measure. Some, however, with outward Bravade but inwards Tremblings, went searching, along the Walls, and behind the Posts for some Lurcher. Again, they gathered to the Landing-place, and stood, whispering­ly debating what this might be. When, to the inexpressible Terror and Discomfi­ture [Page 199]of all present, the spontaneous Knock­er assumed sudden Life and Motion; and gave such a Peal and Alarm to their Eyes and Ears, as put every Sense and Resolu­tion to the Rout, and in they rushed, again, one on the Back of t'other, and clapped to the Door, as in the Face of a Host of pursuing Daemons.

Mr. Vindex and his Lady, for some Time past, had been sitting opposite, and nod­ding over a Fire in the back Parlour, where they returned each other's Salute, with the greatest good Manners and Punc­tuality imaginable. He now started, on hearing the Rustling in the Hall, and angrily called to know what was the Matter.

Vindex, from the Prejudice of Education during his Infancy, had conceived the ut­most Spight to all Spectres and Hobgob­lins, insomuch, that he wished to deprive them of their very Existence; and labour­ed to persuade himself, as well as others, of their Nonentity, but Faith proved too strong, within him, for all his verbal Pa­rade of avowed Infidelity.

While the Servants, with pale Faces and short Breath, made their Relation, the magisterial Philosopher did so sneer, and, contemptuously, toss this Way and t'other, and throw himself back, in such [Page 200]affected Fits of Laughter, as nothing could be like it. Till, bouncing, at the Sound of another Peal, he mustered the whole Family, Boaders and all, to about seventeen in Number, together with Ma­dam Vindex who would not be left sole; and now they appeared such an Army as was sufficient to face any single Devil, at least, and, forth they issued, and filled the Landing place, leaving the Door on the Jar.

Here, Mr. Vindex turned, and, with his Face toward the Knocker thus addressed the Assembly.

My honest, but simple Friends, quoth he, can any Thing persuade ye, that a Spirit, or Ghost, as ye call it, a Breath or Being of Air, a something, or nothing, that is neither tangible, nor visible, can lay hold of that which is? Or are ye such Idiots as to imagine, that you Knocker, (for he did not yet venture to touch it) a Substance, of solid and molten Brass, with­out Members or Organs, or any internal System or Apparatus for the Purpose, can, yet, be indued with Will, Design, or any Kind of Intelligence, when the least locomotive Faculty, in the meanest Rep­tile, must, of Necessity, be provided with an infinitely varied Mechanism, of Nerves, Tubes, Reservoirs, Levers, and Pulleys [Page 201]for the Nonce. I should discredit my own Senses on any Appearance contrary to such palpable Demonstration. In all Lights — Soft — break we off — Look where it comes a­gain — For, in this Instant of Affirmati­on, so peremptory and conclusive; the Knocker, as in Contempt and bitter Despight to Philosophy, so loudly refuted every Syllable of the Premisses, as left neither Time nor Inclination, to Vindex, for a Reply. But, rushing desperately forward, he burst in at the Portal, with such as had Presence of Mind to take Ad­vantage of the opening, and, turning a­gain, and shutting the Door violently in the Face of Half of his Family, he ran and threw himself into his Chair, in an Agony of Spirits.

The Servants and Boarders, whom Vindex had shut out, not abiding to stay in Presence of the Object of their Terrors, tumbled, in a Heap, down the Stairs, and gathering themselves up, again, ran, di­versly, to communicate, to all their Neighbours and Acquaintance, the Ti­dings of the enchanted Knocker. Their contagious Looks and Words gave the Pannic, throughout; but, Curiosity pre­vailing above Apprehension, the Town began to gather, though, first, in thin Parties, and at a cautious Distance; till the Croud, encreasing, took Heart and [Page 202]Resolution from Number, and venturing up a Step or two of the Stairs, and being still press'd and urged forward by new Comers from behind, they, at length, filled the whole Flight and the Landing-place, and one of them growing bold e­nough to lift his Hand toward the Knock­er, the Knocker generously, convinced him that no Assistance was wanting. Rap, rap, rap, rap. Rap, rap, rap, rap. Rap, rap, rap, rap. Back recoil the fore­most Ranks, casting off and tumbling over the Ranks behind. No one stay'd to give Help or Hand to Friend or Brother, but, rising, or scrambling off on all Fours; each made the best of his Way to the first Assylum; and, in less than ten Seconds, there was not a Mouse stirring throughout the Street.

If I had the Ill-nature of most Authors, who seldom communicate any Thing worthy the Knowledge of the Public, I might, also, leave the foregoing Aenigma to be solved, or rather made more implicit, in such ways as Philosophy might happen to account for. But, in Compassion to the Pains of a labouring Imagination, I chuse to deliver my Reader, with all possible Ease and Dispatch.

The Fact is, that these astonishing and tremendous Phaenomena, that discomfited [Page 203]little City, alarmed the Country round, and resuscitated the Stories and Legends of the old Women of all the Parishes from Barnet to London, was the whole and sole Contrivance of our Hero's petulant Found­ling, during a nightly Lucubration.

Ned had, accordingly, imparted his Plan of Operations to Harry, and Harry had en­gaged Mrs. Hannah in the Plot.

Now, Mrs. Hannah had a House, in a narrow Part of the Street, just opposite to that of Mr. Vindex, where her Niece and an old Servant resided. This House was narrow, but of the Height of four Stories; and, on the said memorable Night, Ned dropped the End of a Bottom of small Twine from the Garret Window, which Hannah took, across the Way, and fasten­ed, with a double Knot, to the Knocker of Vindex's Door. And, now, it is twenty to one, that if Vindex's Family and the rest of the Neighbourhood had been, even thus far, let into the Secret, they would not have been, altogether, so much alarm­ed at the Consequences.

I have read of Generals who could gain, but not maintain Conquests; and of Wo­men who could keep all Secrets but their own. Thus it happen'd to Ned. His Vanity was, at least, on a Level with his [Page 204]Ingenuity; he was so elated with the Suc­cess of his recent Stratagem, that he boast­ed of it to some, and half whispered it to others; till it came to the Ears of the much exasperated Vindex. Vindex, in the first Heat, and very Boil of his Passions, snatches up a huge Rod, just cut from that Tree whose bare Name strikes Terror through all our Seminaries of Learning, and, taking with him one of his Boarders, he marches directly down to the House of Mr. Fenton, and, thus formidably armed, he enters the fatal School-room.

Ned, by great good Fortune for himself, was then absent. But, our Hero happen­ing to be there, Vindex, instantly, shut the Door and called him to Task.

Master Harry, says he, did you know any Thing of the strange Knocking at my Door, last Tuesday Night? To this Questi­on, Harry, who was too valiant to be tempted to tell a Lye through Fear, with­out Hesitation, answered in the Affirma­tive. You did, Sirrah, cried the Peda­gogue, and have you the Impudence, also, to confess it to my Face? Here, Jacky, down with his Breeches, and horse him for me directly.

Jack was a lusty lubberly Boy, about ten Years of Age, and stooping to unbut­ton [Page 205] Harry, according to Order, our Hero gave him such a sudden Fist, in the Mouth, as dashed in two of his Teeth, that then happened to be moulting, and set him a crying and bleeding after a pi­teous Manner. Vindex then rose into ten­fold Fury, and took our Hero in Hands, himself, and, notwithstanding that he cuffed and kicked and sought it most man­fully, Vindex, at length, unbuttoned his Breeches, and set him, in due Form, on the Back of his Boarder.

The Pedagogue, at first, gave him the three accustomed Strokes, as hard as he could draw. So much, my Friend, says he, is for your own Share of the Burden; and, now, tell me who were your Confe­derates and Abettors in this fine Plot? That I will never tell you, deliberately and resolutely answered our Hero. What, shall I be bullied and out-braved, replied the frantic Savage, by such a one as you? You little stubborn Villain, I will flea you alive, I will carbonade you on the Spot. So saying, he laid at him, as though he had been a Sheaf of Wheat; while Harry, indignantly, endured the Torture, and, holding, in, his Breath, that he might not give Vindex, the Satisfaction of a Groan, he determined to perish rather than betray.

[Page 206] In the mean Time, Ned had peeped in at the Keyhole, and, spying the Situation and Plight of his loved Patron, he ran to Mrs. Hannah and imparted the horrid Ti­dings. Hannah rose, with all the Wrath of Tisiphone in her Countenance, and, fly­ing to the School-room, she rushed violent­ly against the Door, burst it open in a twinkling, and, springing forward, fasten­ed every Nail she had in the Face and Eyes of Vindex, and tore away and cuffed at a fearful Rate. Jack at this Period, had let his Rider to the Ground, when Harry, catching at a Sword, that hung a­gainst the Wainscot, whipt it down, and drawing it from the Sheath, as quick as Lightning, he sprung at Vindex, in order to run him through the Body; but, hap­pily, not having had the Patience to put up his Breeches, they trammelled him in his Advance, and he fell prostrate, with the Sword, in his Hand, which reached the Leg of the Pedagogue and gave him a slight Wound, just as he was endeavour­ing to make his Way through the Door. Jack had, already, made his Escape, and the mauled Preceptor scampered after, with his Ears much better warmed, and his Temper better cooled, than when he entered.

[Page 207] Harry bore his Misfortune, with a Sort of sullen, though shamefaced, Philosophy. But, every other Member, of this honour­able Family, almost adored him for the bloody Proof that he had given of his Virtue; and vowed unpitying Vengeance on the ungenerous Vindex.

During the above Transactions, the Strangers, whom Mr. Fenton had received into his House, had been tended with great Humanity and were, now, on the Recovery.

Mr. James, on conversing with the Head of this little Family. Observed that he was an exceeding sensible Person, and had provided him with a decent, though cast, Suit of his Masters; and had also, with the Assistance of Mrs. Hannah, put his Wife and little Boy into clean and seemly Apparel.

As James's Invention was on the Rack to get adequate Satisfaction on the base spirited Vindex, he went to consult his new Friend, who dropped a Tear of Generosity and Admiration, on hearing the Story of Harry's Heroism and Nobility of Soul.

By his Advice, Mr. James dispatched a Messenger to a Druggist, at London, and [Page 208]to several other Shops for a sundry Appa­ratus, and, having all Things in Readi­ness, and, Harry being now able to bear a Part in the Play; James sent a strange Porter to Vindex, with Compliments from his Master, as though he were just come home, and requested to speak with him.

Vindex, accordingly, comes, and knocks. The Door opens, he enters, and it instant­ly shuts upon him. He starts back with Horror as at the Sight of Medusa. He perceives the Hall all in Black, without a single Ray, save what proceeded from a sickly Lamp, that made the Gloom visible. He is suddenly seized upon by two robust Devils cover'd over with painted Flames. They drag him to the School-Room, but, O Terror of Terrors! he knows the Place of his pristine Authority no more. He beholds a Hell more fearful that his Fancy had yet fram'd. The Cieling seemed to be vaulted with Serpents, Harpyes, and Hydras, that dropt livid Fire. On one Side ran Phlegeton, in Waves of burning Sulphur. And here, the Tisiphone, Ma­gaera, and Alecto, of the Heathens, ap­peared to contend for Frightfulness with Milton's Death and Sin. Four Fends, and two little Imps, at once laid their Fangs upon him, and would have drag'd him to the Ground. But the Pedagogue was a sturdy athletic Fellow, and cuffed, [Page 209]and scratched, and roared it out most manfully. The Devil, however, proving too strong for the Sinner, he was cast prostrate to the Earth; and, being left, in Retrospection, as bare as Father Time, some sat upon his Shoulders to keep him down, while others, on each Side, alter­nately keeping Time, like the Threshers of Barley, gave our Flogger such a Scoring; as imprinted on his Memory to the last State of Magistracy, a fellow-Feeling for the Sufferings of petty Delinquents.

Being all out breathed in turns, they re­mitted from their Toil; and, now, ap­peared to be a Set of the merriest Devils that ever were associated. They fastened the Clothes of the disconsolate Vindex, a­bout his Neck, with his own Garters; and, having manacled his Hands before him, they turned him loose to the Street. While he, with a wonderful Presence of Mind in the midst of his Terrors, raised his Hands, the best he could, to cover his Face and hurried homeward; judiciously recollecting, that Forty nine, in Fifty, would recognize the one End, who would not recognize the other, especially in the present Pickle.

Within a few Days, after this Adven­ture, Mr. Fenton returned. At the first Sight of one another, he and his Harry, [Page 210]grew together for near Half an Hour. He, then, addressed every Member of his Family, One by One; and, with a fami­liar Goodness, inquired after their several Healths and Concerns. He also asked after his late Guests, and desired to see them; but, on Mr. James's Intimation, that he had somewhat of Consequence to impart to him, they retired to the next Room.

Here, James made him a minute Recital of the preceding Adventures; and set forth, in due Contrast, the Baseness and Barbarity of Vindex on the one Part; and the unassailable Worthiness of his Harry on the other. While the Praise, of this cho­sen of the old Gentleman's Soul, sunk, like the Balm of Gilead, upon his wound­ed Mind, and almost eradicated every Me­morial of former Grief, and planted a new Spring of Hope and Joy in their Room.

The Table being spread for Dinner, Mr. Fenton sent to desire that the Stranger and his little Family should join Company. They came, according to Order, but en­tered, evidently overcome with a Weight of Shame and Gratitude too grievous to be borne.

Mr. Fenton saw their Oppression, and felt the whole Burden upon his own Shoul­ders. He, accordingly, was interested and [Page 211]solicitous in the Removal which he effect­ed with all that Address of which his Hu­manity had made him a great Master.

Through the Enfoldings of the Stran­ger's Modesty, Mr. Fenton discerned many Things preceding the vulgar Rank of Men. Mr. Clement, said he, I am astonished, be­yond Measure, that a Person of Letters, as you are, and, who has so much of the Gentleman in his Person and Manner, should, yet, be reduced to such Extremi­ty; in a Christian Country, and among a People distinguished for their Humanity. There must be something very singular and extraordinary in your Case. And, this Night, if you are at Leisure, and that the Recital is not disagreeable to you; you would oblige me by your Story.

Sir, answered Mr. Clement, since my Life is yours, you have, surely, a Right to an Account of your Property. Whene­ver you think proper, I will chearfully o­bey you.

Mr. Fenton now rose, and stepped into Town; and, calling upon a Neighbour whom he took to the Tavern, he sent for Mr. Vindex who came upon the Sum­mons.

[Page 212] Mr. Vindex, says he, pray take your Seat. I am sorry, Mr. Vindex, for the Treatment you have got in my House, and still sorrier that you got it, so very de­servedly.

I have long thought, Mr. Vindex, that the Method of School-masters, in the In­struction of our Children, is altogether the Reverse of what it ought to be. They, generally, lay hold on the human Consti­tution, as a Pilot lays hold of the Rudder of a Ship, by the Tail, by the single Mo­tive, I say, of Fear alone.

Now, as Fear has no Concern with any Thing but Self, it is the most confined, most malignant, and the basest, though the strongest, of all Passions.

The Party, who is possessed with it, will listen to nothing but the Dictates of his own Terror, nor scruple any Thing that may cover him from the Evil appre­hended. He will prevaricate, and lye; if that Lye is questioned he will vouch it by Perjury; and, if he happens to do an In­jury, he will be tempted to commit Mur­der to prevent the Effects of Resentment.

Fear never was a Friend to the Love of God, or Man, to Duty, or Conscience [Page 113]Truth, Probity, or Honour. It, there­fore, can never make a good Subject, a good Citizen, or a good Soldier; and, least of all, a good Christian. Except the Devils, who believe and tremble, are to be accounted good Christians.

How very different is the Lesson which our Master CHRIST teacheth, who com­mandeth us, not to fear what Man can do unto us; to smile in Sickness and Calami­ty; to rise superior to Pain and Death; and to regard nothing, but as it leads to the Goal of that Immortality which his Gospel has brought to Light.

There is, Mr. Vindex, but one Occasi­on, wherein Fear may be useful, in Schools or Common-wealths. That is, when it is placed as a Guard against Evil, and ap­pears, with its Ensignia of Rods, Ropes, and Axes, to deter all, who behold, from approaching thereto.

But this, Mr. Vindex, is far from being the sole Occasion on which School-masters apply the Motive of Fear and Castigation. They associate the Ideas of Pain to those Lessons and Virtues which the Pleasure of Encouragement ought, alone, to inculcate. They, yet, more frequently apply the Lash, for the Indulgence of their own Weaknesses, and for the Gratification of [Page 114]the Virulence of their own naughty Passi­ons. And I have seen a Giant of a Peda­gogue, raving, raging, and foaming over a Group of shrinking Infants; like a Kite over a crouching Parcel of young Turkeys.

There are, I admit some Parents and Preceptors who annex other Motives to that of the Rod. They promise Money, gaudy Clothes, and Sweet Meats to Chil­dren; and, in their Manner of expatiating on the Use and Value of such Articles; they often excite, in their little Minds, the Appetites of Avarice, of Vanity, and Sen­suality. They, also, sometimes add the Motive of what they call Emulation, but which, in Fact, is rank Envy, by telling one Boy how much happier, or richer, or finer, another is, than himself.

Now, though Envy and Emulation are often confounded, in Terms; there are not two Things more different, both in respect to their Object, and in respect to their Operation. The Object of Envy is the Person, and not the Excellence, of any one; but the Object of Emulation is Ex­cellence, alone; as when CHRIST, excit­ing us to be emulous of the Excellence of God himself, bids us be perfect, as our Fa­ther which is in Heaven is perfect. The Operation of Envy is to pull others down. [Page 215]But the Act of Emulation is to exalt our­selves to some Eminence or Height pro­posed. The Eyes of Envy are sore and sickly, and hate to look at the Light. But Emulation has the Eye of an Eagle and soars, while it gazes in the Face of the Sun.

Were Tutors half as solicitous, through­out their Academies, to make Men of Worth, as to make Men of Letters; there are a hundred pretty Artifices, very obvi­ous to be contrived and practised, for the Purpose. They might institute Caps of Shame, and Wreaths of Honour, in their Schools. They might have little Medals, expressive of particular Virtues, to be fixed on the Breast of the Atchiever, till forfeit­ed by Default. And on the Report of any Boy's having performed a signal Acti­on of Good-Nature, Friendship, Gratitude, Generosity, or Honour; a Place of Emi­nence might be appointed for him to sit on, while all the rest of the School should bow, in Deference, as they passed. Such Arts, as these, I say, with that distinguish­ing Affection, and Approbation, which all Persons ought to shew to Children of Me­rit, would soon make a new Nation of In­fants, and, consequently, of Men.

When you, Mr. Vindex, iniquitously, took upon you to chastise my most noble [Page 216]and most incomparable Boy, you, first, whipt him for his gallant and generous Avowal of the Truth. And, next, you barbarously flead him; because he refused to betray those who had confided in his Integrity.

When I behold so many Scoundrels walking, openly, throughout the Land, who are stiled your Honour, and your Ho­nour, and who, impudently usurp the most exalted of all Characters, the Character of a Gentleman. I no longer wonder, when I reflect, that they have been principled, or rather unprincipled, by such Tutors as Mr. Vindex.

The merry Devils, Mr. Vindex, who took you in Hand, were not of a Species, so alienated from Humanity, as you might imagine. They have, therefore, appoint­ed me their Vehicle of some Smart-Money, in Recompence, but, desire no further Advantage from your Company or In­structions.

So saying, Mr. Fenton put a Purse of five and twenty Guineas into the Hands of the Pedagogue, and withdrew without speaking another Word.

[Page 217]

Upon my Credit, this Mr. Fenton—I long to know something more of him—he is a sensible kind of a Man, and has given us some very valuable Hints upon Education.—But, may I be so free with you as to drop some general Re­marks upon the whole of what I have read?

Free, Sir?—by all Means—as free as you please, to be sure—believe me, you cannot do me a greater Favour.

Why, there's the Plague on't now,—You begin to kindle already.—Ah, were you Authors to know the thou­sandth Part of the Liberties that are taken behind your Backs, you would learn to bear, with more Humility, a gentle Ad­monition though uttered to your Faces.—Few, indeed, have the Generosity, or even Humanity to intimate what they themselves think, or what the World speaks of you. We are seldom over for­ward to say any Thing that might give Displeasure to others, because we like that others should be pleased with ourselves; but, in your Absence, we pay ourselves largely for our Taciturnity in your Pre­sence; and I have often been in Company, [Page 218]where the Intimates and Confidents of you Authors, have depreciated and ridiculed the very same Passages, which they ap­plauded with Cries and Claps in your Clo­sets. The World, my Friend, has sub­stituted good Manners in the Place of good Nature, whoever conforms to the former is dispensed with from any Observance of the latter. Shall I add, (for the Misfor­tune of you Authors,) that there is a Set of Men who, at once, dispense with com­mon Manners and common Humanity. They go under the Name of Crities, and must be Men of Wealth, that the Defe­rence paid to Fortune, may give a Sort of Stamp and Currency to the Dross of their Erudition. In the strictest Sense, indeed, they may be called Men of Letters, their Study, as well as Capacity, being nearly confined to a just or orthographical Dispo­sition of the Alphabet. Their Business is to reconoitre the Outworks of Genius, as they have no Key to the Gates of Nature or Sentiment. They snuff Faults from afar, as Crows scent Carrion, and delight to pick, and to prey, and to dwell upon them. They enter, like Wasps, upon the Gardens of Literature, not to relish any Fragrance of select any Sweets, but to pamper their Malevolence with every Thing that savours of Rankness or Of­fence. Happily for them. their Sagacity does not tend to the Discovery of Merit, [Page 219]in such a Case, a Work of Genius would give them the Spleen for a Month, or possibly depress their Spirits beyond Re­covery.

To these high and dreaded Lords Justi­ciaries, the Critics, Authors deem it in­cumbent to submit the Products of their Lucubrations; not in the Prospect of any Advantage from their Advice or Animad­versions; neither in the Hopes of acquir­ing their Friendship or Patronage; but merely to sooth and deprecate the Effects of their Malignity. Accordingly, I have been present, when some of these Dictators have been presented with a Manuscript, as with an humble Petition; they have there­upon assumed the Chair, as a Judge as­sumes the Bench when a Criminal is called before him, not in order to Trial or Hear­ing, but to Sentence and Condemnation. To what Scenes of Mortification have I been Witness on such Occasions! to what a State of Abatement, of Abasement, of Annihilation, have these Entertainers of the Public been depressed!— ‘I am sorry, Sir, to tell you that this will not do.—A few Attempts here and there, but that will not compensate—Here again how injudicious, absurd, unpar­donable!—Lord, Sir, you should have considered that when a Man sits down to write for the Public, the least [Page 220]Compliment they expect from him is that he should think—Here, my Friend, I have seen enough, I cannot affront my Judgment so much as either to recommend or patronize your Per­formance, all I can do for you is to be filent on the Subject, and permit Fools to approve who have not Sense to dis­cern.’ —Thus do these Critics-para­mount, with the Delicacy and Compassion of the Torturers of the Inquisition, search out all the Seats of Sensibility and Self-Complacence, in order to sting with the more quick and killing Poignancy.

Now, my dear Friend, as you have not applied for the Favour of these established Arbitrators of Genius and Literature, you are not to expect the least Mercy from them, and I am also free to tell you that I know of no Writer who lies more open to their Attacks. You are excessively incor­rect; your Works, on the one Hand, have not the least Appearance of the Limae labor; nor, on the other, have they that Ease which ought to attend the Haste with which they seem to be written. A­gain, you are extremely unequal and dis­proportioned; one Moment you soar where no Eye can see, and strait descend with Rapidity to creep in the vulgar Phrase of Chamber Maids and Children. Then you are so desultory that we know not where [Page 221]to have you; you no sooner interest us in one Subject than you drag us, however reluctant, to another; in short, I doubt whether you laid any kind of Plan before you set about the Building; but we shall see how your fortuitous Concourse of Atoms will turn out.

Do I want Nature?

No.

Do I want Spirit?

Rather too much of Fire, at Times.

Do I want Sentiment?

Not altogether.

Then, Sir, I shall be read, and read again, in despight of my own De­fects, and of all that you and your Critics can say or do against me. The Truth is, that the Critics are very far from being Bugbears to me; they have always prov­ed my Friends, my best Benefactors; they were the First who writ me into any kind of Reputation; and I am more beholden to their Invectives, than I am to my own Genius, for any little Name I may have got in the World; all I have to fear is that they are already tired [Page 222]of railing, and may not deem me worth their further Notice. — But pray, my good Sir, if you desire that I should profit by your Admonitions, ought you not to give me Instances of the Faults with which you reproach me?

That would be Time and Labour altogether thrown away, as I have not the smallest Hope of bringing you to Confessi­on. You are a Disputant, a Casuist by your Education; you are equally studied and practised in turning any Thing into nothing, or bringing all Things thereout. But don't flatter yourself that I have yet given you the Detail of Half your Faults; you are often paradoxical, and extremely peremptory and desperate in your Asserti­ons. In this very last Page you affirm that the Character of a Gentleman is the most revereable, the highest of all Cha­racters.

I did, Sir, I do affirm it, and will make it good.

I knew it, Sir, I knew it, but don't chuse, at present, to enter into the Dis­cussion. At the next Pause, I shall wil­lingly hear you on this Question.

CHAP. VII.

ON his Return, he ordered a Fire and a Bottle of Wine into his Study, and sent for Mr. Clement. Mr. Clement, says he, sit down. I assure you, Mr. Clement, I am inclined to think very well of you. But, pray, let me have the Nar­rative of your Life and Manners, without Disguise. An ingenuous Confession and Sense of past Errors, has something in it, to me, full as amiable or more, than if a Man had never stray'd.

Sir, says Mr. Clement, I have, indeed, been faulty, very faulty, in my Intenti­ons; though God has, hitherto, preserv'd me from any very capital Act, and has, by your Hand, wonderfully brought me to this Day.