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THE LIFE OF John Buncle, Esq; CONTAINING Various Observations and Reflections, Made in several Parts of the World; AND Many extraordinary Relations.Foelix ille animi, Divisque simillimus ipsis,
Volusenus.
Gentlemen,
This book is not addressed to you, in order to ask your
protection for its faults; or in hopes, that such valuable names at
the head of it, may preserve it. Things in print must stand by their
own worth. But it is offered to you, to let the world see I had that
confidence in the goodness of my design in writing it, as to submit
it to such great and impartial judges; and that I believe you will
report your opinion in such a manner, as to procure me the esteem of
the virtuous; when you find that my principal intention in this piece,
is to serve the interests of truth, liberty, and religion, and to
advance useful learning, to the best of my abilities:—that I have
the happiness of mankind at heart, and attempt, in a historical
manner, to encrease their knowledge in general; and in particular, to
lead them to a pious contemplation and acknowledgment of God's
unspeakable wisdom and goodness manifested in the works of the
creation; —shew them the truth of the testimony of Jesus Christ
concerning a divine providence, immortality, and a future state; and
that as virtue advances and improves, human felicity augments, and
becomes a sure prognostick of that fulness of bliss, which men of
goodness and integrity are to enjoy, without interruption, frailty,
and infirmity, in an unchangeable and everlasting life. This was my
scheme. These things I had principally in view, when, to vindicate my
character from misrepresentation and idle stories, and to illustrate
my memoirs of several ladies of Great-Britain, I sat down to
write a true history of my life and notions. You will see at once,
gentlemen, that this is the labored part of my work. Were I able to
write so as to persuade even a few to alter their way of living, and
employ their time for the future, in forming and training up their
moral powers to perfection, I should think myself more fortunate and
glorious than the greatest genius in the temple of Fame. Indeed,
gentlemen, fame or name, in this world, is not the thing I think of.
Non est mortale quod opto, I can say with Lactantius: and
were it within my power to choose, sure I am, that I would be for
ever unknown. But that was impossible. In justice to myself, as
before observed, and that tradition might not hand me down, when I am
gone, in that variety of bad and foolish characters, which a malice,
that knows nothing of me, whispers while I am living; it was
necessary I should tell my own story. The relation was likewise
requisite, to render the memoirs before mentioned intelligible. The
volumes of that work, which are to be published, would be quite dark,
and not so grateful as intended, without a previous account of the
author's life.
This, gentlemen, is the truth of the case, and as I say as little of myself, in my relation, as I can; and as much for true religion and useful learning, as I was able, I hope, from your rectitude and judgment, that you will get me a fair hearing; and I call upon you as my patrons, and the friends to learning and truth, for your approbation of my good and pious intentions, tho' you should not be able to say one word of any excellencies in my writings. This is all I ask. As I wish well to your cause, the cause of virtue and letters, and have chiefly endeavoured, according to my abilities, to make my readers acquainted with the majesty of the Deity, and his kingdom, and the greatness of his excellency, before whom all the inhabitants of the earth, all powers and principalities, are as nothing; I hope you will, in return, favour me with your best wishes.
As to some strange things you will find in the following journal; and a life, in various particulars, quite contrary to the common course of action, I can assure you, gentlemen, in respect of the strange things, that however wonderful they may appear to you, yet they are; exclusive of a few decorations and figures, (necessary in all works), strictly true: and as to the difference of my life, from that of the generality of men, let it only be considered, that I was born in London, and carried an infant to Ireland, where I learned the Irish language, and became intimately acquainted with its original inhabitants: —that I was not only a lover of books from the time I could spell them to this hour; but read with an extraordinary pleasure, before I was twenty, the works of several of the fathers, and all the old romances; which tinged my ideas with a certain piety and extravagance, that rendered my virtues as well as my imperfections particularly mine:—that by hard measure, I was compelled to be an adventurer, when very young, and had not a friend in the universe but what I could make by good fortune, and my own address:— that my wandering life, wrong conduct, and the iniquity of my kind, with a passion for extraordinary things and places, brought me into several great distresses; and that I had quicker and more wonderful deliverances from them than people in tribulation generally receive:—that the dull, the formal, and the visionary, the hard-honest man, and the poor-liver, are a people I have had no connexion with; but have always kept company with the polite, the generous, the lively, the rational, and the brightest freethinkers of this age:—that beside all this, I was in the days of my youth, one of the most active men in the world, at every exercise; and to a degree of rashness, often venturous, when there was no necessity for running any hazards: in diebus illis, I have descended head-foremost from a high cliff into the ocean, to swim, when I could, and ought, to have gone off a rock not a yard from the surface of the deep. —I have swam near a mile and a half out in the sea, to a ship that lay off, went on board, got clothes from the mate of the vessel, and proceeded with them to the next port; while my companion I left on the beach concluded me drowned, and related my sad fate in the town. —I have taken a cool thrust over a bottle, without the least animosity on either side; but both of us depending on our skill in the small sword, for preservation from mischief. — Such things as these I now call wrong, and mention them only as samples of a rashness I was once subject to, as an opportunity happened to come in the way. Let all these things be taken into the account, and I imagine, gentlemen, that what may at first sight seem strange, and next to incredible, will, on considering these particulars, not long remain so, in your opinion; though you may think the relator an odd man. As to that, I have nothing to say. And if oddness consists in spirit, freedom of thought, and a zeal for the divine unity; in a taste for what is natural, antique, romantic, and wild; in honouring women, who are admirable for goodness, letters, and arts; and in thinking, after all the scenes I have gone through, that every thing here is vanity; except that virtue and charity, which gives us a right to expect beyond the grave; and procures us, in this world, the direction of infinite wisdom, the protection of infinite power, and the friendship of infinite goodness;—then, may it be written on my stone,—Here lies an odd man.
Thus much, gentlemen, I thought proper to say to you, that by being acquainted with the particulars relative to the complexion, and design of the author, you might the easier and the better comprehend the various things you will find in the work he dedicates to you.
I have only to add, that I wish you all happiness; that your heads may lack no ointment, and your garments be always white and odoriferous: but especially, may you press on, like true critics, towards perfection; and may bliss, glory, and honour, be your reward and your Portion.
Barbican,
Aug. 1. 1756.
That the Transactions of my Life, and the observations and reflections I have made on men and things, by sea and land, in various parts of the world, might not be buried in oblivion, and by length of time, be blotted out of the Memory of Men, it has been my wont, from the days of my youth to this time, to write down Memorandums of every thing I thought worth noticing, as men and matters, books and circumstances, came in my way; and in hopes they may be of some service to my fellow-mortals I publish them. Some pleasing, and some surprizing things the Reader will find in them. —He will meet with miscellany thoughts upon several subjects. He will read, if he pleases, some tender stories. But all the relations, the thoughts, the observations, are designed for the advancement of valuable Learning, and to promote whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report.
About fifty years ago the Midwife wheeled me in, and much sooner than half a Century hence, in all human probability, Death will wheel me out. When Heaven pleases, I am satisfied. Life and death are equally welcome, because equally parts of my way to Eternity. My lot has been a swarthy one in this first State, and I am in hopes I shall exchange worlds to advantage. As God, without all peradventure, brought his moral creatures into being, in order to increase their Virtue, and provide suitable happiness for the Worthy, the most unfortunate here may expect immutable felicity at last, if they have endeavoured, in proportion to what power they had, to render themselves useful and valuable, by a sincerity and benevolence of temper, a disinterestedness, a communicativeness, and the practice of those duties, to which we are obliged by the frame of our Nature, and by the Relations we bear to God, and to the subjects of his government.
For my part, I confess that, many have been the failings of my Life, and great the defects of my obedience. But in the midst of all my failings and imperfections, my Soul hath always sympathised with the afflicted, and my heart hath ever aked for the miseries of others. My hand has often relieved, when I wanted the shilling to comfort my self, and when it hath not been in my power to relieve, I have grieved for the scanty Accommodations of others. Many troublesome and expensive offices I have undertaken to do good to Men, and ever social and free have I been in my demeanour, easy and smooth in my address; and therefore, I trust that, whenever I am removed from this horizon, it will be from a dark and cloudy state, to that of joy, light, and full Revelation. This felicitates my every day, let what will happen from without. This supports me under every Affliction, and enables me to mentain a habit of satisfaction and joy in the general course of my Life.
The things of my Childhood are not worth setting down, and therefore I commence my Life from the first month of the seventeenth year of my Age, when I was sent to the University, and entred a pensioner, tho' I had a larger yearly allowance than any fellow-commoner of my College. I was resolved to read there, and determined to improve my natural faculties to the utmost of my power. Nature, I was sensible, had bestowed no genius on me. This and understanding are only the privilege of extraordinary persons; who receive from Heaven the happy conjunction of qualities, that they may execute great and noble designs, and acquire the highest pitch of excellence in the profession they turn to; if they will take the pains to perfect the united qualities by art, and carefully avoid running into caprice and paradox; the Rocks on which many a Genius has split. But then I had a tolerable share of natural understanding, and from my infancy was teachable, and always attentive to the directions of good sense. This I knew might rise with some labour, to a half merit, tho' it could never gain immortality upon any account: and this was enough for me. I wanted only to acquire such degrees of perfections as lay within the small sphere nature had chalked out for me.
To this purpose I devoted my college-life to books, and for five years that I resided in the University, conversed so much with the dead that I had very little intercourse with the living. So totally had letters engaged my mind, that I was but little affected towards most other things. Walking and Musick were my favorite recreations, and almost the only ones I delighted in. I had hardly a thought at that time of the foolish choises and pursuits of men; those fatal choices and pursuits, which are owing to false judgments, and to a habit of acting precipitantly, without examining the fancies and appetites; and therefore, very rarely went into the pleasures and diversions which men of fortune in a University too commonly indulge in. My relaxation, after study, was my german-flute, and the conversation of some ingenious, sober friend; generally, my private tutor, who was a bright and excellent man; and if the weather permitted, I walked out into the country several miles. At this exercise, I had often one or other with me; but for the most part, was obliged to go alone. My dog and my gun however were diversion enough on the way, and they frequently led me into scenes of entertainment, which lasted longer than the day. Some of them you will find in this Journal. The history of the beautiful Harriot Noel you shall have by and by.
At present, my scheme requires me to set down the method I pursued in my Readings, and let my Reader know the issue of my studies. —My time I devoted to Philosophy, Cosmography, Mathematicks, and the Languages, for four years, and the fifth I gave to History.
The first book I took into my hand, after receiving my note of admission, was the essay of that fine Genius, Mr. Locke, and I was so pleased with this clear and accurate writer, that I looked into nothing else, by reading it three times over, I had made a thorough acquaintance with my own understanding. He taught me to examine my abilities, and enabled me to see what objects my mind was fitted to deal with. He led me into the sanctuary of vanity and ignorance, and shewed me how greatly true knowledge depended on a right meaning of words, and a just significancy of expression. In sum, from the Essay my Understanding received very great benefits, and to it I owe what improvement I have made in the reason given me. If I could, I would persuade all young Gentlemen to read it over and over with great attention, and I am sure they would find themselves very richly rewarded for their pains in reading it. They would acquire that justness and truth of understanding, which is the great perfection of rational Beings.
When I had done, for a time, with this admirable Essay, I then began to study the first principles of things, the structure of the Universe, the contexture of human bodies, the properties of beasts, the virtues of plants, and the qualities of metals, and was quite charmed with the contemplation of the beautiful order, and wise final causes of nature in all her laws and productions. The study had a delightful influence on the temper of my mind, and inspired into it a love of order in my heart, and in my outward manners. It likewise led me to the great first Cause, and in repeated views of harmony, wisdom and goodness in all the works of nature, rivited upon my mind a fixed conviction, that all is under the administration of a general Mind, as far remote from all malice as from all weakness, whether in respect of understanding or of power. This gave me a due affection towards the infinitely perfect Parent of Nature, and as I contemplated his glorious Works, I was obliged in transports to confess, that he deserved our love and admiration. This did also satisfy me, that whatever the order of the world produces, is in the main both just and good, and of consequence, that we ought in the best manner to support whatever hardships are to be endured for virtue's sake: that acquiescence and complacency with respect to ill accidents, ill men and injuries, ought to be our part under a perfect administration; and with benignity and constancy we must ever act, if there be a settled persuasion, that all things are framed and governed by a universal mind. —Such was the effect the study of Natural Philosophy had upon my Soul. It set beyond all doubt before me the moral perfection of the Creator and Governor of the Universe. And if this Almighty God, I said, is perfect Wisdom and Virtue, does it not follow, that he must approve and love those who are at due pains to improve in wisdom;—and what he loves and delights in, must he not make happy? This is an evident truth. It renders the cause of virtue quite triumphant.
But upon Ethicks or Moral Philosophy I dwelt the longest. This is the proper food of the Soul, and what perfects her in all the virtues and qualifications of a gentleman. This Science I collected in the first place from the antient sages and philosophers, and studied all the moral writers of Greece and Rome. With great pleasure I saw, that these immortal authors had delineated as far as human reason can go, that course of life which is most according to the intention of nature, and most happy; had shewn that this universe, and human nature in particular, was formed by the wisdom and counsel of a Deity, and that from the constitution of our nature various duties arose:—that since God is the original independent Being, compleat in all possible perfection, of boundless power, wisdom and goodness; the Creator, Contriver, and Governor of this world, to whom mankind are indebted for innumerable benefits most gratuitously bestowed; we ought to manifest the most ardent love and veneration toward the Deity, and worship him with affections of Soul suited to the pre-eminence and infinite grandeur of the original Cause of all; ought to obey him, as far as human weakness can go, and humbly submit and resign ourselves and all our interests to his will; continually confide in his goodness, and constantly imitate him as far as our weak nature is capable. This is due to that original most gracious Power who formed us, and with a liberal hand supplies us with all things conducive to such pleasure and happiness as our nature can receive: —That in respect of mankind, our natural sense of right and wrong points out to us the duties to be performed towards others, and the kind affections implanted by nature, excites us to the discharge of them: that by the law of our constitution and nature, justice and benevolence are prescribed; and aids and an intercourse of mutual offices required, not only to secure our pleasure and happiness, but to preserve ourselves in safety and in life: that the law of nature, or natural right, forbids every instance of injustice, a violation of life, liberty, health, property; and the exercise of our honourable, kind powers, are not only a spring of vigorous efforts to do good to others, and thereby secure the common happiness; but they really procure us a joy and peace, an inward applause and external advantages; while injustice and malice, anger, hatred, envy, and revenge, are often matter of shame and remorse, and contain nothing joyful, nothing glorious: In the greatest affluence, the savage men are miserable:—that as to ourselves, the voice of reason declares, that we ought to employ our abilities and opportunities in improving our minds to an extensive knowledge of nature in the sciences; and by diligent meditation and observation, acquire that prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude, which should constantly govern our lives: —That solid prudence, which abhors rashness, inconsiderateness, a foolish self-confidence, and craft, and under a high sense of moral excellence, considers and does what is really advantageous in life: —That justice, which constantly regards the common interest, and in subserviency to it, gives to each one whatever is due to him upon any natural claim: —That temperance, which restrains and regulates the lower appetites, and displays the grace and beauty of manners: —And that fortitude, which represses all vain and excessive fears, gives us a superiority to all the external accidents of our mortal state, and strengthens the soul against all toils or dangers we may be exposed to in discharge of our duty; as an early and painful death with virtue and honour, is highly preferable to the longest ignominious life, and no advantages can be compared in point of happiness with the approbation of God, and of our own hearts.
That if in this manner we live prepared for any honourable services to God, our fellows, and ourselves, and practice piety toward God, good-will toward men, and immediately aim at our own perfection, then we may expect, notwithstanding our being involved in manifold weaknesses and disorders of soul, that the divine goodness and clemency will have mercy on such as sincerely love him, and desire to serve him with duty and gratitude; will be propitious and placable to the penitents, and all who exert their utmost endeavours in the pursuits of virtue: And since the perfection of virtue must constitute the supreme felicity of man, our efforts to attain it, must be effectual in obtaining compleat felicity, or at least some lower degree of it.
This beautiful, moral Philosophy I found scattered in the writings of the old theist philosophers, and with great pains reduced the various lessons to a system of active and virtuous offices: but this I knew was what the majority of mankind were incapable of doing; and if they could do it, I saw it was far inferior to revelation. Every Sunday I appropriated to the study of reveled Religion, and perceived as I read the sacred records, that the Works of Plato, and Cicero, and Epictetus, and all the uninspired sages of antiquity, were but weak rules in respect of the divine oracles. It is the mercy and power of God in the triumphs of grace, that restores mankind from the bondage and ignorance of idolatry. To this the sinner owes the conversion of his soul. It is the statutes of the Lord that rejoyce the heart, and enlighten the eyes. What are all the reasonings of the philosophers to the melody of that heavenly voice which crys continually, Come unto me all ye that travel and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you. — And what could their lessons avail without those express promises of grace and spiritual assistance, which the blood of the new covenant confirms to mankind? The philosophy of Greece and Rome was admirable for the times and men: but it admits of no comparison with the divine lessons of our holy religion, and the charter of God's pardon granted to us by his blessed Son. Beside, the philosophers were in some degree dark and doubtful in respect of death and futurity; and in relation to this world, there is not a power in their discourses, to preserve us from being undone by allurements, in the midst of plenty, and to secure our peace against the casualties of fortune, and the torments of disappointments; to save us from the cares and sollicitudes which attend upon large possessions, and give us a mind capable of relishing the good things before us; to make us easy and satisfied as to the present, and render us secure and void of fear as to the future. These things we learn from revelation, and are informed by the sacred records only, that if we are placed here in the midst of many fears and sorrows, and are often perplexed with evils in this world; yet they are so many warnings not to set up our rest here, but to keep a stedfast eye upon the things which God has prepared for those who love him. It is the gospel informs us, there is another scene prepared for the moral world, and that justice only waits to see the full proof of the righteousness, or unrighteousness of men: that that scene will open with the judgment seat of Christ, and we shall either receive glory and immortality, if we have obeyed the calls of grace to virtue and holiness;—or, be doomed to the most dreadful miseries, if we reject the counsel of God, and live quite thoughtless of the great concerns of eternity. These considerations made me prefer reveled religion, in the beginning of my rational life. The morality of the antient philosophers I admired. With delight I studied their writings, and received, I gratefully confess, much improvement from them. But the religion of our blessed Lord I declared for, and look on the promised Messiah as the most consummate blessing God could bestow, or man receive. God having raised up his Son Jesus, sent him to bless you, in turning every one of you from your iniquities. And would men but hear and obey this life-giving Redeemer, his Gospel would restore reason and religion to their rightful authority over mankind; and make all virtue, and true goodness, flourish in the earth.
But I must observe that, by the religion of the New Testament, I do not mean any of those modern schemes of religion, which discover the evident marks and signatures of superstition and enthusiasm, or of knavery and imposture; those systems which even miracles cannot prove to be true, because the pieties are absurd, inconsistent and contradictory. The notions that are not characterized by the reason of things, and the moral fitness of actions, I considered as repugnant to the veracity, wisdom, and goodness of the Almighty, and concluded, that that only could be christian religion, which beared the visible marks and signatures of benevolence, social happiness, and moral fitness, and was brought down from heaven to instruct mankind in the worship of One eternal mind, and bring them to repentance, and amendment of life. This was the religion I found in my Bible. I saw with pleasure, as I thoughtfully went through the divine pages, that natural religion is the foundation and support of revelation;—supplies the defects of nature, but never attempts to overthrow the established principles of it; —casts new light upon the dictates of reason, but never overthrows them. Pure theism, and Christ the appointed Mediator, Advocate, and Judge, by a commission from God the Father, to me appeared to be the Gospel;— and the directions of the holy Spirit, to believe in one supreme independent first cause, and worship in spirit and truth this one God and Father of All, in the name of Christ Jesus; as the disciples of the Messiah; to copy after the life of our blessed Saviour, and to the utmost of our abilities, obey all his commands. —This was the religion I found in the writings of the apostles, and I then determined to regard only this Gospel-doctrine.
The manner of my studying Cosmography and Mathematicks is not worth setting down, as there was nothing uncommon in it. In the one I only learned to distinguish climates, latitudes, and the four divisions of the world; the provinces, nations, kingdoms and republicks comprized therein, and to be able to discourse upon them: —And in the other, I went no further than to make myself a master of vulgar and decimal arithmetick, the doctrine of infinite series, and the application of algebra, to the higher geometry of curves. Algebra I was charmed with, and found so much pleasure in resolving its questions, that I have often sat till morning at the engaging work, without a notion of its being day till I opened the shutters of my closet. I recommend this study in particular to young gentlemen, and am satisfied, if they would but take some pains at first to understand it, they would have so great a relish for its operations, as to prefer them many an evening to the clamorous pleasures; or, at least, not be uneasy for being alone now and then, since their algebra was with them.
In reading history, (my last years principal employment, during my residence in college), I began with the best writers of antient history and ended with modern times, epochs, centuries, ages; the extent of empires, kingdoms, common-wealths; their progress, revolutions, changes and declensions; the number, order, and qualities of the Princes, that have reigned over those states and kingdoms, their actions military and civil; the characters and actions of the great men that flourished under them; and the laws, the arts, learning and manners, I carefully marked down, and observed not only how the first governments were formed, but what the progress was of industry and property, which may be called the generative principle of empire.
When I had done with antient History, I sat down to the best modern stories I could get, and read of distant nations before I began to study my country's constitution, history and laws. When I had finished the histories of France, and Spain, and Italy, and Germany, and many more, then I turned to Great-Britain, and in the first place took a view of the English constitution and government, in the antient books of the common law, and some more modern writers, who out of them have given an account of this government. From thence I proceeded to our History, and with it joined in every King's reign the laws then made. This gave me an insight into the reason of our statutes, and shewed me the true ground upon which they came to be made, and what weight they ought to have. By this means, I read the history of my country with intelligence, and was able to examine into the excellence or defects of its government, and to judge of the fitness or unfitness of its orders and laws. By this method I did likewise know enough of the law for an English gentleman, tho' quite ignorant of the chicane, or wrangling and captious part of the law, and was well acquainted with the true measure of right and wrong. The arts how to avoid doing right, and to secure one's self in doing wrong, I never looked into.
Thus did I read History, and many noble lessons I learned from it; just notions of true worth, true greatness, and solid happiness. It taught me to place merit where it only lies, not in birth, not in beauty, not in riches, not in external shew and magnificence, not in voluptuousness; but, in a firm adherence to truth and rectitude; in an untainted heart, that would not pollute or prostitute its integrity in any degree, to gain the highest wordly honours, or to ward off the greatest worldly misery. This is true magnanimity: And he alone can be truly happy, as well as truly great, who can look down with generous contempt upon every thing that would tempt him to recede in the smallest degree from the paths of rigid honesty, candour and veracity.
Are you moderate in your desires, frugal, and obliging to your friends? Do you know when to spare, and when to be liberal, as occasion requires? And can you give a check to your avarice, in spight of all temptations which are laid in your way? Can you refrain from being too greedy in your pursuits after riches? When you can sincerely affirm that you are master of your self, and of all these good qualities, then you are free indeed, deed, and wise, by the propitious power of Jove and the Prætor.
But if you retain the old habits of a slave, and harbour ill qualities, under the hypocritical appearance of virtue, you are as much a slave as ever, while thus enslaved to your vices. Philosophy gives no indulgence to vice—makes no allowance for any crime. If in wagging your finger, you acted against reason, you transgress, tho' the thing be of so trifling a nature. All the sacrifices you can offer will never pass for a dram of rectitude, while your conduct is faulty. Wisdom is incompatible with folly.
When to be bountiful, and when to spare,This is the great lesson, that virtue alone is true honour, true freedom, and solid, durable happiness. It is indeed its own reward. There are no satisfactions equal to, or comparable with virtuous, rational exercises; nor can virtuous dispositions, and well improved moral powers be rewarded, or receive happiness suited to their nature, but from their exercises and employments about proper objects. And as virtue gives pleasure here in proportion to the improvements it makes, far beyond all that mere sense can yield, in the most advantageous circumstances of outward enjoyment; so in a state to come, it shall be so placed as its improvements require, that is, be placed in circumstances that shall afford it business or employment proportioned to its capacity, and by means thereof the highest satisfaction. —Such a basis for building moral instructions upon we find in history. We are warned in some pages to avoid the miseries and wretchedness which many have fallen into by departing from reason or virtue: — And in others, we meet with such virtuous characters and actions, as set forth the charms of integrity in their full lustre, and prove that virtue is the supreme beauty, the supreme charm: that in keeping the precepts of moral rectitude, we secure a present felicity and reward; and have a presage of those higher rewards which await a steady course of right conduct in another world. — Glorious, natural virtue! Would mankind but hearken to its voice, and obey its dictates, there would be no such Beings as Invaders, Delinquents, and Traitors, in this lower world. The social inclinations and dispositions would for ever prevail over the selfish appetites and passions. The law of benevolence would be the rule of life. The advancement of the common good would be the work of every man.
The case however is; that the generality of mankind are too corrupt, to be governed by the great universal law of social nature, and to gratify ambition, avarice, and the like, employ a cunning or power, to seize the natural rights and properties of others: and therefore, to natural virtue grounded on the reason and fitness of things, in themselves, the first and principal mean of securing the peace and happiness of society, it was necessary to add two other grand principles, civil government and Religion, and so have three conducible means to social happiness. These three are necessary to the being of a publick, and of them, religion as I take it, is of the first consequence; for the choice few only mind a natural Virtue, or benevolence flowing from the reason, nature, and fitness of things; and civil government cannot always secure the happiness of mankind in particular cases: but Religion, rightly understood, and fixed upon its true and proper foundation, might do the work, in conjunction with the other two principles, and secure the happiness of Society. If mankind were brought to the belief and worship of one only true God, and to a sincere obedience to his Will, as we have it discovered in Revelation, I think, appetite and passion would cease to invade by violence or fraud, or set up for private interest in opposition to the publick stock or common good. But, alas! Religion is so far from being rightly understood, that it is rendered by some explainers the most doubtful and disputable thing in the world. They have given it more phases than the moon, and made it every thing, and nothing, while they are screaming or forcing the people into their several factions. This destroys the moment of Religion, and the multitude are thereby wandered into endless mazes and perplexities, and rendered a hairing, staring, wrathful rabble; instead of being transformed into such christians as filled the first church at Jerusalem; christians who acknowledged and worshipped God the Father Almighty, in the name of Christ, that is, under a belief of that authority and power which the Father of the Universe has, for the good of mankind, conferred upon him; and in humility and meekness, in mortification and self-denial, in a renunciation of the spirit, wisdom, and honours of this world, in a love of God, and desire of doing God's will, and seeking only his honour, were by the Gospel made like unto Christ . Golden Religion! Golden Age! The Doctrine of Christianity was then a Restoration of true Religion: the practice of Christianity, a Restoration of human Nature . But now, alas! too many explainers are employed in darkening and making doubtful the reveled Will of God, and by paraphrases, expositions, commentaries, notes, and glosses, have almost rendered revelation useless. What do we see in the vast territories of Popery, but a perfect Diabolism in the place of the religion of our Lord; doctrines the most impious and absurd, the most inconsistent and contradictory in themselves, the most hurtful and mischievous in their consequences; the whole supported by persecution, by the sophistry of learned knaves, and the tricks of jugling priests? And if we turn our eyes from these regions of imposture and cruelty, to the realms of protestants, do we not find some learned christian critics and expositors reducing the inspired writings to a dark science? without regard to the nature and intrinsick character of their doctrines, do they not advance notions as true and divine, which have not one appearance of divine Authority; but, on the contrary, mililitate with the reason of things, and the moral fitness of actions; and are so far from being plain and clear, free from all doubtfulness, or ambiguity, and suited to the understandings and capacity of men, that the darkness of them renders such pretended revelations of little service; and impeaches the veracity, wisdom, and goodness of God? Alas! too many explainers are clamorous, under the infallible strength of their own persuasions, and exert every power to unman us into believers. How the apostles argued for the great excellency and dignity of Christianity is not with them the question; so far as I am able to judge from their learned writings; but the fathers, and our spiritual superiors have put upon the sacred writings the proper explications; and we must receive the truth as they dispense it to us. This is not right, in my conception. I own it does not seem to answer the end of the Messiah's coming, which was to restore Reason and Religion to their rightful authority over mankind; and to make all virtue, and true goodness, flourish in the earth; the most perfect blessing to be sure that God could bestow on man, or man receive from God. This blessing we must miss, if human authority is to pin us down to what it pleases to call sense of scripture, and will set up the judgment of fallible men as the test of Christianity. The Christian Laity are miserable indeed, if they be put under an obligation to find that to be truth which is taught by these Leaders. In truth, we should be unhappy men, with a revelation in our churches and our closets, if the leaders had a right to make their own faith pass for the faith of the Apostles; or, if we refused it, might lance the weapons of this world at their people. What must we do then as true Christians? I think for my self, that we ought to form our judgment, in matters of faith, upon a strict, serious and impartial examination of the Holy Scriptures, without any regard to the judgment of others, or human authority whatever: that we ought to open the sacred records, without minding any systems, and from the reveled word of God learn that, Christianity does not consist in a jingle of unintelligible sounds, and new fundamentals, hewn out by craft, enthusiasm, or bigotry, and maintained with an outrage of uncharitable zeal, which delivers Christians to the flames of an eternal hell: but that, the heavenly religion of our Lord consists in looking on the promised Messiah, as the most consummate blessing God could bestow, or man receive; and that Jesus is that Messiah; in acting according to the rules of the Gospel, and in studying to imitate God, who is the most perfect understanding nature, in all his moral perfections; in becoming the Children of God by being (according to our capacity) perfect as he is perfect, and holy as he is holy, and merciful as he is merciful; and in our whole moral behaviour as like to him as possible.
In a word, to flee injustice, oppression, intemperance, impurity, pride, unmercifulness, revenge:—to practise justice, piety, temperance, chastity, humility, beneficence, placability —to turn from our iniquities to the practice of all virtue: and through the alone mediation of the only-begotten Son of God, believe in and worship the eternal mind, the one supreme Spirit, in hope of a glorious immortality, through the sanctification of the Holy Ghost: —These are the things the Lord came down to teach mankind. For the New Testament itself then we must declare, and look upon it as the only guide, or rule of faith. It is now the only deliverer of the declarations of our Lord: And the rule in our enquiry is, that every thing necessary to be believed by a Christian, is in those Books not left to be gathered by consequences, or implications; but the things necessary to obtain the favor of God promised to Christians are expressly declared. If this was not the case—if things absolutely necessary were not expressly proclaimed to be so, the gospel revelation would be no rule at all (1) [Footnote 1: 5Kb] .
But it is time to tell my reader the story of the beautiful Harriot Noel, which I promised in my third memorandum. — On the glorious first of August, before the beasts were roused from their lodges, or the birds had soared upwards, to pour forth their morning harmony; while the mountains and the groves were overshadowed by a dun obscurity, and the dawn still dappled the drowsy East with spots of grey; in short, before the sun was up, or, with his auspicious presence, began to animate inferior nature, I left my chamber, and with my gun and dog, went out to wander over a pleasant country. The different aspects and the various points of view were charming, as the light in fleecy rings encreased; and when the whole flood of day descended, the imbellished early scene was a fine entertainment. Delighted with the beauties of this morning, I climbed up the mountains, and travelled through many a valley. The game was plenty, and for full five hours, I journeyed onward, without knowing where I was going, or thinking of a return to college.
About nine o'clock however I began to grow very hungry, and was looking round to see if I could discover any proper habitation to my purpose, when I observed in a valley, at some distance, something that looked like a mansion. That way therefore I moved, and with no little difficulty, as I had a precipice to descend, or must go a mile round, to arrive at the place I wanted: down therefore I marched, got a fall by the way that had like to have destroyed me, and after all, found it to be a shed for cattle. The bottom however was very beautiful, and the sides of the hills sweetly copsed with little woods. The valley is so divided, that the rising sun gilds it on the right hand, and when declining, warms it on the left.
A pretty brook here likewise babbles along, and even Hebrus strays not round Thrace with a purer and cooler stream.
In this sweet and delicious solitude, I crept on for some time, by the side of the murmuring stream, and followed as it winded through the vale, till I came to a little harmonick building, that had every charm and proportion architecture could give it. It was situated on a rising ground in a broad part of the fruitful valley, and surrounded with a garden, that invited a pensive wanderer to roam in its delightful retreats, and walks amazingly beautiful. Every side of this fine spot was planted thick with underwood, and kept so low, as not to prevent a prospect to every pleasing remote object.
Finding one of the garden doors left open, I entred immediately, and to screen my self from the scorching beams of the sun, got into an imbowered way, that led me to a large fountain, in a ring or circular opening, and from thence, by a gradual, easy, shady ascent, to a semicircular amphitheatre of ever-greens, that was quite charming. In this were several seats for ease, repast, or retirement; and at either end of it a rotunda or temple of the Ionick order. One of them was converted into a grotto or shell-house, in which a politeness of fancy had produced and blended the greatest beauties of nature and decoration. The other was a library, filled with the finest books, and a vast variety of mathematical instruments. Here I saw Miss Noel sitting, and so intent at writing, that she did not take any notice of me, as I stood at the window, in astonishment looking at the things before me, and especially at the amazing beauties of her face, and the splendor of her eyes; as she raised them now and then from the paper she writ on, to look into a Hebrew Bible, that lay open upon a small desk before her. The whole scene was so very uncommon, and so vastly amazing, that I thought my self for a while on some spot of magic ground, and almost doubted the reality of what my eyes beheld; till Miss Noel, by accident, looked full at me, and then came forward to the open window, to know who I wanted.
Before I could answer, I found a venerable old gentleman standing by my side, and he seemed much more surprized at the sight of me than his daughter was; for, as this young lady told me afterward, she guessed at once the whole affair; seeing me with my gun and dog, in a shooting dress; and knew it was a natural curiosity brought me into the garden, and stoped me at the window, when I saw her in such an attitude, and in such a place. —This I assured them was the truth of my case, with this small addition however, that I was ready to perish for want of something to eat; having been from four in the morning at hard exercise, and had not yet broke my fast. —If this be the case, says the good old man, you are welcome, Sir, to Eden-Park, and you shall soon have the best breakfast our house affords.
Upon this Mr. Noel brought me into his house, and the lovely Harriot made tea for me, and had such plenty of fine cream, and extraordinary bread and butter set before me, that I breakfasted with uncommon pleasure. The honour and happiness of her company rendered the repast quite delightful. There was a civility so very great in her manner, and a social goodness so charming in her talk and temper, that it was unspeakable delight to sit at table with her. She asked me a number of questions relating to things and books, and people, and there was so much good sense in every inquiry, so much good humour in her reflections and replications, that I was intirely charmed with her mind; and lost in admiration, when I contemplated the wonders of her face, and the beauties of her person.
When breakfast was over, it was time for me to depart, and I made half a dozen attempts to rise from my chair; but without her laying a rosy finger on me, this illustrious maid had so totally subdued my soul, and deprived me of all motive power, that I sat like the renowned Prince of the Massagetes, who was stiffened by inchantment in the apartment of the Princess Phedima, as we read in Amadis de Gaul. This Miss Noel saw very plain, and in compassion to my misfortune, generously threw in a hint now and then, for a little farther conversation to colour my unreasonable delay. But this could not have been of service much longer, as the clock had struck twelve, if the old gentleman, her father, had not returned to us, and told me, he insisted on my staying to dine with him; for he loved to take a glass after dinner with a facetious companion, and would be obliged to me for my company. At present (Mr. Noel continued) you will excuse me, Sir, as business engages me till we dine: but my daughter will chat the hours away with you, and shew you the curiosities of her library and grott. Harriot will supply my place.
This was a delightful invitation indeed, and after returning my hearty thanks to the old gentleman for the favour he did me, I addressed my self to Miss Noel, when her father was gone, and we were walking back to the library in the garden, and told her ingenuously, that tho' I could not be positive as to the situation of my soul, whether I was in love with her or not, as I never had experienced the passion before, nor knew what it was to admire a woman; having lived till that morning in a state of indifference to her sex; yet, I found very strange emotions within me, and I was sure I could not leave her without the most lively and afflicting inquietude. You will pardon, I hope, Madam, this effusion of my heart, and suffer me to demonstrate by a thousand and a thousand actions, that I honour you in a manner unutterable, and from this time, can imagine no happiness but with you.
Sir, (this inimitable maid replied) you are an intire stranger to me, and to declare a passion on a few hours acquaintance, must be either to try my weakness, or because you think a young woman is incapable of relishing any thing but such stuff, when alone in conversation with a gentleman. I beg then I may hear no more of this, and as I am sure you can talk upon many more rational subjects, request your favor, to give me your opinion on some articles in this Hebrew Bible you see lying open on the table in this room. My father, Sir, among other things he has taken great pains to instruct me in, for several years that I have lived with him in a kind of solitary state, since the death of my mother, whom I lost when I was very young, has taught me to read and understand this inspired Hebrew book; and says we must ascribe primævity and sacred prerogatives to this language. For my part, I have some doubts as to this matter, which I dare not mention to my father. Tell me, if you please, what you think of the thing.
Miss Noel, (I answered) since it is your command, that I should be silent as to that flame your glorious eyes and understanding have lighted up in my soul, like some superior nature, before whom I am nothing, silent I will be, and tell you what I fancy on a subject I am certain you understand much better than I do. My knowledge of the Hebrew is but small, tho' I have learned to read and understand the Old-Testament in the Ante-Babel language.
My opinion on your question is, that the Biblical Hebrew was the language of Paradise, and continued to be spoken by all men down to, and at the time of Moses writing the pentateuch, and long after. Abraham, tho' bred in Chaldea, could converse freely with the Egyptians, the Sodomites, and the King of Gerar; nor do we find, that any variety of speech interrupted the commerce of his son Isaac with the several nations around, or that it ever stopt Jacob in his travels. Nay, the Israelites, in their journey through the desarts of Arabia, (after they had been some hundred years in Egypt) tho' joined by a mixt multitude, and meeting with divers kinds of people, had not corrupted their language, and were easily understood, because it was then the universal one. The simplicity and distinctness of the Hebrew tongue preserved its purity so long and so universally. It could not well be degenerate till the knowledge of nature was lost, as its words consist but of two or three letters, and are perfectly well suited to convey sensible and strong ideas. It was at the captivity (2) , in the space of seventy years, that the Jews, by temporising with the ignorant victors, so far neglected the usage of their own tongue, that none but the scribes or learned men could understand Moses's books.
This I confess (Miss Noel said) is a plausible account of the primævity and pre-eminence of the sacred Hebrew, but I think it is not necessary the account should be allowed as fact. As to its being the language in Paradise, this is not very probable, as a compass of 1800 years must have changed the first language very greatly by an increase of words, and new inflections, applications, and constructions of them. The few first inhabitants of the earth were occupied in few things, and wanted not a variety of words; but when their descendants invented arts and improved sciences, they were obliged to coin new words and technical terms, and by extending and transferring their words to new subjects, and using them figuratively, were forced to multiply the senses of those already in use. The language to be sure was thus gradually cultivated, and every age improved it. All living languages are liable to such change. I therefore conclude, that the language which served the first pair would not do for succeeding generations. It became vastly more copious and extensive, when the numbers of mankind were great, and their language must serve conversation and the ends of life, and answer all the purposes of intelligence and correspondence. New words and new terms of speech, from time to time were necessary, to give true ideas of the things, actions, offices, places, and times peculiar to the Hebrews. Even Hutchinson allows there was some coinage, some new words framed. We find in the latter prophets words not to be met with in the Pentateuch: and from thence we may suppose, that Moses used words unknown to Nimrod and Heber : and that the men at Shinaar (3) had words which the people before the flood were strangers to. Even in the seventeenth century, there must have been a great alteration in the language of Adam ; and when the venerable Patriarch and his family came into a new world, that was in a different state from the earth before the deluge, and saw a vast variety of things without precedent in the old world, the alterations in nature and diet, must introduce a multitude of new terms in things of common experience and usage; as, after that amazing revolution in the natural world, not only the clouds and meteors were different, and the souls that were saved had a new and astonishing view of the ruin and repair of the system; but Noah did then begin to be an husbandman; he planted a vineyard; he invented wine; and to him the first grant was given of eating flesh. All these things required as it were a new language, and the terms to be sure with mankind encreased. The Noachical language must be quite another thing after the great events of the flood. Had Methuselah, who conversed many years with Adam, who received from his mouth the history of the creation and fall, and who lived 600 years with Noah, to communicate to him all the knowledge he got from Adam; had this Antediluvian wise man been raised from the dead to converse with the postdiluvian fathers, or even with Noah, the year he died, that is, 350 years after the flood; is it not credible, from what I have said, that he would have heard a language very different from that tongue he used in his conversations with Adam, even in the 930th year of the first man (4) [Footnote 4: 2Kb] ? I imagine, Methuselah would not have been able to have talked with Noah, at the time I have mentioned, of the circumstances that then made the case of mankind, and of the things of common experience and usage. He must have been unable to converse at his first appearance.
What you say, Madam, (I replyed) is not only very probable, but affords a satisfaction unexpected in a subject on which we are obliged, for want of data, to use conjectures. I offer up to your superior sense the notion, that the Scriptures were wrote in the language of Paradise. Most certain it is, that even in respect of our own language, for example, the subjects of Henry the 1st, would find it as much out of their power to understand the English of George the 1st's reign, were they brought up again, as the ordinary people of our time are at a loss to make any thing of the English written in the 1st Henry's reign. But when I have granted this, you will be pleased to inform me, how Abraham and his sons conversed and commerced with the nations, if the Hebrew was not the universal language in their time? If the miracle at Babel was a confusion of tongues, as is generally supposed, how did the holy family talk and act with such distant Kings and people? Illuminate me, thou glorious girl in this dark article, and be my teacher in Hebrew learning, as I flatter my self you will be the guide and dirigent of all my notions and my days. Yes, charming Harriot, my fate is in your hands. Dispose of it as you will, and make me what you please.
You force me to smile, (the illustrious Miss Noel replyed) and oblige me to call you an odd compound of a man. Pray, Sir, let me have no more of those romantic flights, and I will answer your question as well as I can; but it must be at some other time. There is more to be said on the miracle at Babel, and its effects, than I could dispatch between this and our hour of dining, and therefore, the remainder of our leisure till dinner, we will pass in a visit to my grotto, and in walking round the garden to the parlour we came from. To the grotto then we went, and to the best of my power I will give my reader a description of this splendid room.
In one of the fine rotunda's I have mentioned, at one end of the green amphitheatre very lately described, the shining apartment was formed. Miss Noel's hand had covered the floor with the most beautiful Mosaic my eyes have ever beheld, and filled the arched roof with the richest fossil gems. The Mosaic painting on the ground was wrought with small coloured stones or pebbles, and sharp pointed bits of glass, measured and proportioned together, so as to imitate in their assemblage the strokes and colour of the objects, which they were intended to represent, and they represented by this lady's art, the Temple of Tranquillity, described by Volusenus in his dream.
At some distance the fine temple looks like a beautiful painted picture, as do the birds, the beasts, the trees, in the fields about it, and the river which murmurs at the bottom of the rising ground; Amnis lucidus & vadosus in quo cernere erat varii generis pisces colludere. So wonderfully did this genius perform the piece, that fishes of many kinds seem to take their passtime in the bright stream. But above all, is the image of the philosopher, at the entrance of the temple, vastly fine. With pebbles and scraps of glass, all the beauties and graces are expressed, which the pencil of an able artist could bestow on the picture of Democritus. You see him as Diogenes Laertius has drawn him, with a philosophical joy in his countenance, that shews him superior to all events. Summum bonorum finem statuit esse lætitiam, non eam quæ sit eadem voluptati, sed eam per quam animus degit perturbationis expers; and with a finger, he points to the following golden inscription on the portico of the temple:—
That is, By a rectitude of mind and life, secure true happiness and the applause of your own heart, and let it be the labour of your every day, to come as near perfection as it is possible for human nature to get. This Mosaic piece of painting is indeed an admirable thing. It has a fine effect in this grotto, and is a noble monument of the masterly hand of Miss Noel.
Nor was her fine genius less visible in the striking appearance of the extremely beautiful shells and valuable curiosities, all round the apartment. Her father spared no cost to procure her the finest things of the ocean and rivers from all parts of the world, and pebbles, stones, and ores of the greatest curiosity and worth. These were all disposed in such a manner as not only shed a glorious lustre in the room, but shewed the understanding of this young lady in natural knowledge.
In one part of the grot, were collected and arranged the stony coverings of all the shell-fish in the sea, from the striated patella and its several species, to the pholades in all their species: and of those that live in the fresh streams, from the suboval limpet or umbonated patella and its species, to the triangular, and deeply striated cardia. Even all the land-shells were in this collection, from the pomatia to the round-mouthed turbo. The most beautiful genera of the sea-shells, intermixed with fossil corals of all the kinds; with animal substances become fossil; and with copper-ores; agates; pebbles, pieces of the finest marmora and alabastritæ, and the most elegant and beautiful marcasites, and chrystals, and spars. These filled the greatest part of the walls, and in classes, here and there, were scattered, as foils to raise the lustre of the others, the inferior shells.
Among the simple sea-shells, that is, those of one shell, without a hinge, I saw several rare ones, that were neither in Mrs. O'Hara 's, nor in Mrs. Crafton's grottos in Fingal, as I observed to those ladies (5) [Footnote 5: 2Kb] . The shells I mean are the following ones.
1. The sea-trumpet, which is in its perfect state, nine inches long, an inch and half diameter at its mouth or irregular lip, and the opening at the small end about half an inch. The surface is a beautiful brown, prettily spotted with white, and the pipe has fourteen annular ridges that are a little elevated, and of a fine purple colour.
2. The admiral is vastly beautiful, a voluta two inches and a half long, and an inch in diameter, at the head, from whence it decreases to a cone with an obtuse point. The ground colour is the brightest, elegant yellow, finer than that of Sienna marble, and this ground so variegated with the brightest colours, that a little more than a third part of the ground is seen. Broad fasciæ, the most charmingly varied, surround it, and the clavicle is the most elegant of objects in colours, brightness and irregularities. There is a punctuated line of variations that runs in the centre of the yellow fascia, and is wonderfully pretty. This beautiful East Indian sells at a great price.
3. The crown imperial is likewise extremely beautiful. This voluta is four inches long, two in diameter at the top, and its head adorned with a charming series of fine tubercles, pointed at the extremities. The ground is a clear pale, and near the head and extremity of the shell, two very beautiful zones run round. They are of the brightest yellow, and in a manner the most elegant, are variegated with black and white purple. It is an East Indian.
4. The Hebrew letter, another voluta, is a fine curiosity. It is two inches in length, and an inch and a quarter in diameter at the top. It is a regular conic figure, and its exerted clavicle has several volutions. The ground is like the white of a fine pearl, and the body all over variegated with irregular marks of black, which have a near resemblance of the Hebrew characters. This elegant shell is an East Indian.
5. The white voluta, with brown and blue and purple spots. This very elegant shell, whose ground is a charming white, is found on the coast of Guinea, from five to six inches in length, and its diameter at the head often three inches. It tapers gradually, and at the extremity is a large obtuse. Its variegations in its spots are very beautiful, and its spots are principally disposed in many circles round the shell.
6. The butterfly is a voluta the most elegant of this beautiful genus. Its length is five inches in its perfection, and two and a half broad at the head. The body is an obtuse cone: the clavicle is pointed, and in several volutions. The ground is the finest yellow, and beautifyed all over with small brown spots, in regular and round series. These variegations are exceeding pretty, and as this rare East Indian shell has beside these beauties three charming bands round the body, which are formed of large spots of a deep brown, a pale brown, and white, and resemble the spots on the wings of butterflies, it is a beautiful species indeed. The animal that inhabits this shell is a limax.
7. The tulip cylinder is a very scarce and beautiful native of the East-Indies, and in its state of perfection and brightness of colour, of great value. Its form is cylindric, its length four inches, and its diameter two and a half, at its greatest increase. Its clavicle has many volutions, and terminates in an obtuse point. The ground colour is white, and its variegations blue and brown. They are thrown into irregular clouds in the most beautiful manner, and into some larger and smaller spots. The limax inhabits this fine shell.
I likewise saw in this grotto the finest species of the purpura, the dolia, and the porcellana. There was of the first genus the thorny woodcock:—of the second, the harp shell :—and of the third, the argus shell.
8. The thorny woodcock is ventricose, and approaches to an oval figure. Its length, full grown, is five inches; the clavicle short, but in volutions distinct; and its rostrum from the mouth twice the length of the rest of the shell. This snout and the body have four series of spines, generally an inch and half long, pointed at the ends, and somewhat crooked. The spines lie in regular, longitudinal series. The mouth is almost round, but the opening is continued in the form of a slit up the rostrum. The colour of this American, and extremely elegant shell, is a tawny yellow, with a fine mixture of a lively brown, and by bleaching on the coasts, it gets many spots of white.
9. The beautiful harp is a Chinese; three inches and half long, and two and a half in diameter. The shell is tumid and inflated, and at the head largest. It has an oblong clavicle in several volutions, pointed at the extremity, and the other extreme is a short rostrum. The whole surface is ornamented with elevated ribs, that are about twice as thick as a straw, and as distant from each other as the thickness of four straws. The colour is a fine deep brown, variegated with white and a paler brown, in a manner surprizingly beautiful.
10. The extremely elegant argus is from the coast of Africa, and is sometimes found in the East-Indies. Its length, in a state of perfection, is four inches and a half; its diameter three. It is oblong and gibbous, has a wide mouth, and lips so continued beyond the verge, as to form at each extremity a broad and short beak. The colour is a fine pale yellow, and over the body are three brown fasciæ: but the whole surface, and these fasciæ, are ornamented with multitudes of the most beautiful round spots, which resemble eyes in the wings of the finest butterflies. The limax inhabits this charming shell. This creature is the sea-snail.
11. The concha of Venus was the next shell in this young lady's collection that engaged my attention. One of them was three inches long, and two and a half in diameter. The valves were convex, and in longitudinal direction deeply striated. The hinge at the prominent end was large and beautifully wrought, and the opening of the shell was covered with the most elegant wrinkled lips, of the most beautiful red colour, finely intermixed with white; these lips do not unite in the middle, but have slender and beautiful spines round about the truncated ends of the shell. This shell of Venus is an American, and valued by the collectors at a high rate.
12. But of all the curious shells in this wonderful collection, the hammer oyster was what I wondered at most; it is the most extraordinary shell in the world. It resembles a pickax, with a very short handle and a long head. The body of the shell is in the place of the handle of the instrument, and is four inches and a half long, and one inch and a half in diameter. What answered to the head of the pickax was seven inches long, and three quarters of an inch in diameter. This head terminates at each end in a narrow obtuse point, is uneven at the edges, irregular in its make, and lies crosswise to the body: yet the valves shut in the closest and most elegant manner. The edges are deeply furrowed and plated, and the lines run in irregular directions. The colour without is a fine mixture of brown and purple; and within, a pearly white, with a tinge of purple. This rare shell is an East-Indian, and whenever it appears at an auction is rated very high. I have known ten guineas given for a perfect one.
With a large quantity of these most beautiful shells, which are rarely seen in any collections, and with all the family of the pectens, the cardiæ, the solens, the cylindri, the murexes, the turbines, the buccina, and every species of the finest genera of shells, Miss Noel formed a grotto that exceeded every thing of the kind I believe in the world; all I am sure that I have seen, except the late Mrs. Harcourt's in Richmondshire; which I shall give my Reader a description of, when I travel him up those English Alpes. It was not only, that Miss Noel's happy fancy had blended all these things in the wildest and most beautiful disposition over the walls of the rotunda; but her fine genius had produced a variety of grotts within her grotto, and falling waters, and points of view. In one place, was the famous Atalanta, and her delightful cave: and in another part, the Goddess and Ulysses's son appeared at the entrance of that grott, which under the appearance of a rural plainness had every thing could charm the eye: the roof was ornamented with shell-work; the tapestry was a tender vine; and limpid fountains sweetly purled round.
But what above all the finely fancyed works in Miss Noel's grotto pleased me, was, a figure of the Philosopher Epictetus, in the centre of the grott. He sat at the door of a cave, by the side of a falling water, and held a book of his philosophy in his hand, that was written in the manner of the antients, that is, on parchment rolled up close together. He appeared in deep meditation, and as part of the book had been unwrapped and gradually extended, from his knee on the ground, one could read very plain, in large Greek characters, about fifty lines. The English of the lesson was this.
All things have their nature, their make and form, by which they act, and by which they suffer. The vegetable proceeds with perfect insensibility. The brute possesses a sense of what is pleasurable and painful, but stops at mere sensation. The rational, like the brute, has all the powers of mere sensation, but enjoys a farther transcendent faculty. To him is imparted the master-science of what he is, where he is, and the end to which he is destined. He is directed by the canon of reason to reverence the dignity of his own superior character, and never wretchedly degrade himself into natures to him subordinate. The master science (he is told) consists in having just ideas of pleasures and pains, true notions of the moments and consequences of different actions and pursuits, whereby he may be able to measure, direct or controul his desires or aversions, and never merge into miseries. Remember this, Arrianus. Then only you are qualified for life, when you are able to oppose your appetites, and bravely dare to call your opinions to account; when you have established judgment or reason as the ruler in your mind, and by a patience of thinking, and a power of resisting, before you choose, can bring your fancy to the test of truth. By this means, furnished with the knowledge of the effects and consequences of actions, you will know how you ought to behave in every case. You will steer wisely through the various rocks and shelves of life. In short, Arrianus, the deliberate habit is the proper business of man; and his duty, to exert upon the first proper call, the virtues natural to his mind; that piety, that love, that justice, that veracity, that gratitude, that benevolence; which are the glory of human kind. Whatever is fated in that order of incontroulable events, by which the divine power preserves and adorns the whole, meet the incidents with magnanimity, and co-operate with chearfulness in whatever the supreme mind ordains. —Let a fortitude be always exerted in endurings; a justice in distributions; a prudence in moral offices; and a temperance in your natural appetites and pursuits. —This is the most perfect humanity. This do, and you will be a fit actor in the general drama; and the only end of your existence is the due performance of the part allotted you.
Such was Miss Noel's grotto, and with her, if it had been in my power to choose, I had rather have passed in it, the day in talking of the various fine subjects it contained, than go in to dinner; which a servant informed us was serving up, just as I had done reading the above recited philosophical lesson. Back then we returned to the parlour, and there found the old Gentleman. We sat down immediately to two very good dishes, and when that was over, Mr. Noel and I drank a bottle of old Alicant. Tho' this Gentleman was upwards of eighty, yet years had not deprived him of reason and spirits. He was lively and sensible, and still a most agreeable companion. He talked of Greece and Rome, as if he had lived there before the Æra of christianity. The court of Augustus he was so far from being a stranger to, that he described the principal persons in it; their actions, their pleasures, and their caprices, as if he had been their contemporary. We talked of all these great characters. We went into the the gallery of Verres. We looked over the antient theatres. Several of the most beautiful passages in the Roman poets this fine old man repeated, and made very pleasant, but moral remarks upon them.
The cry (said he) still is as it was in the days of Horace —
And what Catullus told his Lesbia, is it not approved to this day by the largest part of the great female world?
The girls all learn this lesson before their A. B. C: And as to the opinion of the poet, it shews how sadly the Augustan age, with all its learning, and polite advantages, was corrupted: and as Virgil makes a jest of his own fine description of a paradise or the Elysian fields; as is evident from his dismissing his hero out of the ivory gate; which shews he was of the school of Epicurus; it is from these things manifest, that we can never be thankful enough for the principles and dictates of reveled religion: we can never sufficiently adore the goodness of the most glorious Eternal for the gospel of Jesus Christ; which opens the unbounded regions of eternal day to the virtuous and charitable, and promises them a rest from labour, and ever blooming joys: while it condemns the wicked to the regions of horror and solid darkness; that dreadful region, from whence the cries of misery for ever ascend, but can never reach the throne of mercy. —O heavenly religion! designed to make men good, and for ever happy: that preserves the dignity of human nature—Guards and encreases virtue—And brings us to the realms of perfect reason and excellent glory.
But (continued this fine old Gentleman) Tibulius has ever pleased me in the description of his mistress:
These elegant lines contain an inimitably beautiful description of outward grace, and its charming effects upon all who see it. Such a grace, without thinking of it, every one should strive to have, whatever they are doing. They should make it habitual to them. Quintilian seems to have had these fine lines in view, in his description of outward behaviour: Neque enim gestum componi ad similitudinem saltationis volo, sed subesse aliquid, in hac exercitatione puerili, unde nos non id agentes, furtim decor ille discentibus traditus subsequatur. Cap. 10.—I am not for having the mein of a gentleman the same with that of a dancing-master; but that a boy while young, should enter upon this exercise, that it may, communicate a secret gracefulness to his manner ever after.
In this manner, did the old gentleman and I pass the time, till the clock struck five, when Miss Noel came into the parlour again, and her father said he must retire, to take his evening nap, and would see me at supper; for with him I must stay that night. Harriot, make tea for the Gentleman. I am your servant, sir; and he withdrew. To Harriot then, my life and my bliss, I turned, and over a pot of tea was as happy, I am sure, as ever with his Statira sat the conqueror of the world. I began to relate once more the story of a passion, that was to form one day, I hoped, my sole felicity in this world, and with vows and protestations affirmed, that I loved from my soul. Charming angel, I said, the beauties of your mind have inspired me with a passion, that must encrease every time I behold the harmony of your face; and by the powers divine, I swear to love you, so long as Heaven shall permit me to breath the vital air. Bid me then either live or die, and while I do live, be assured, that my life will be devoted to you only. —But in vain was all this warmth. Miss Noel sat as unmoved as Erycina on a monument, and only answered, with a smile, Since your days, sir, are in my disposal, I desire you will change to some other subject, and some article that is rational and useful: otherwise, I must leave the room.
To leave me, I replied, would be insupportable, and therefore, at once I have done. If you please then, Madam, we will consider the miracle at Babel, and enquire into the language of the world at that time. Allowing, as you have proved in our late conversation, that the language after the flood was quite another thing from that used in Paradise, and of consequence, that Moses did not write in that tongue which Adam and Eve conversed in; nor is Hebrew of that primevity which some great men affirm; yet, if there was a confusion of tongues at Babel, and many languages were spoken in the earth in the days of Abraham, then, how did he and his sons converse so easily with the various nations they passed through, and had occasional connexions with? For my part, I think with Mr. Hutchinson, that the divine interposition at Babel was for quite another end, to wit, to confound their confession, and cast out of their minds the name or object of it, that a man might not listen to the lip or confession of his neighbour. They were made to lose their own lip, and to differ about the words of their atheistical confession.
As to a confusion of confessions (Miss Noel replyed), it appears to me to be a notion without any foundation to rest on. The argument of Hutchinson that the word Shephah, the name for a lip, when used for the voice or speech, is never once in the Bible used in any other sense than for confession, is not good; because tho' Shephah is often generally used for religious discourse or confession; yet the phrases, other lips and other tongues, are also used for other languages, utterances, pronunciations, dialects. St. Paul, I. Cor. 14. 21. 22. applys Shephah to language or dialect in his quotation from the prophet Isaiah, ch. 28. ver. 11. 12. —He says, in the law it is written, With MEN OF other tongues and other lips will I speak unto this people, and yet for all that, they will not hear me : —And the words of the prophet are, speaking of Christ promised; with stammering lips, and another tongue will be speak to this people. It is evident from this, that the Hebrew word Shephah here signifies tongues or languages, and not confessions or discourse: So the apostle applies it, and explains the prophet: and by stammering lips Isaiah means the uncouth pronunciations of barbarous dialects, or languages of the nations, which must produce in strangers to them ridiculous lips or mouths; and in this he refers undoubtedly to the stammering and strange sounds, at the Babelconfusion; when God, by a miracle and visible exhibition, distorted their organs of speech, and gave them a trembling, hesitation, and precipitancy, as to vocal and other powers: In short, the miraculous gift of tongues would in some measure affect the saints, in respect of pronunciation, as the miracle of Babel did the people of that place. (6) [Footnote 6: 4Kb] Nor is this the only place in scripture where Shephah, lip, signifies language, pronunciations, and dialects; and where there is reference to the confusion of tongues at Babel: Isaiah speaking of the privileges of the godly, says,—Thou shalt not see a fierce people, of a deeper speech than thou canst perceive, (of a deeper lip than thou canst hear, Heb.) of a stammering or ridiculous tongue, that thou canst not understand. This is enough in answer to Mr. Hutchinson and his fautors, in respect of what they say on the confusion at Babel. This proves that the word Shephah, lip, signifies language, utterance, dialect, as well as confession or discourse: and therefore, Moses, in his account of the miracle at Babel, might have meant a confusion of languages. That he did mean this, is plane not only from a tradition gone out into all the earth, which is a matter of greater regard than Mr. Hutchinson's fancy; but because the sacred oracles allude to this event. Beside St. Paul aforementioned; the royal prophet in Psalm 55. ver. 9. refers to the means of the division of tongues, and denounces a curse in terms taken from that inflicted at Babel. Swallow up, O Lord, and divide their tongues. This seems to describe the manner of that confusion;—that the substance of the one language was sunk or swallowed up in a vast chaos of universal babble: and that out of that jargon, it was again (by another act) divided or broken into many particular dissonant dialects, or tongues.
All this (I said) is very just, and gives me delight and satisfaction. I am now convinced, not only, that Hebrew was not the language of Paradise, or that Adam did not speak the tongue the old world used immediately before the confusion at Babel; but likewise, that the division there was a division and confusion of the one language then spoken; and not a confusion of confessions, as Mr. Hutchinson affirms. Inform me however, if you please, what you mean by that tradition you mentioned, which declared the miracle of Babel was a confusion of languages.
The Jews tradition (replied Miss Noel) is preserved in their Targum, and tells us, that the whole earth after the flood was of one speech, or sort of words, and when at their first remove from Ararat, they came to Shinar, they consulted to build them a city, and a tower for an house of adoration, whose head might reach to, or be towards the Heavens, and to place an image of the host of Heaven, for an object of worship, on the top of it; and to put a sword in his hand, that he might make war for them against the divine armies, to prevent their dispersion over the whole earth. Whereupon the word of the Lord was reveled from Heaven, to execute vengeance upon them, and the Lord corrupted their tongue, broke their speech into seventy languages, and scattered them over the face of the whole earth. No one knew what his fellow said: and they slew one another, and ceased from building the city. Therefore he called the name of it Babel; because there the Lord mingled together the tongues of all the inhabitants of the other. This you read in the Targum that was written before the days of Jesus Christ, as the Jews affirm: or, if not so early, yet it is a very antient book, and the doctor who composed it must certainly know the meaning of the word Shephah better than Mr. Hutchinson. It appears upon the whole, that the argument of this famous modern is without foundation.
It is indeed (I answered): But then I am not able to conceive how Abraham and his sons conversed with so many nations —or how the Hebrew that Moses writ in was preserved. Illuminate me in these things, illustrious Harriot, and from your fine understanding, let me have the honour and happiness of receiving true Hebrew lessons. Proceed I beseech you, and stop not till you have expounded to my understanding the true nature of Cherubim? What do you think of Mr. Hutchinson's Rub and Rubbim, and of his notions of Ezekiel's cherubic form.
To talk of Cherubim and Elohim (resumed Miss Noel ), and say all that ought to be said, (to speak to any purpose) of the three heads and four visages, the bull, the man, the lyon, and the eagle, mentioned in the prophet, requires more knowledge in Hebrew learning than I pretend to be mistress of, and must take up more time than there is now to spare. I may hereafter however, if you should chance to come again to our house, let you know my fancys upon these grand subjects, and why I cannot accord with Mr. Hutchinson and my father, in their notion of the Cherubim's signifying the unity of the essence, the distinction of the Persons, and man's being taken into the essence by his personal union with the second person, whose constant emblem was the lyon. This I confess appears to my plain understanding very miserable stuff. I can see no text either in the Old Testament, or in the New, for a plurality of Beings, co-ordinate and independent. The sacred pages declare there is One original perfect mind. The Lord shall be King over all the earth . In that day there shall be ONE Lord, and his name One; says the prophet Zechariah, speaking of the prodigious revolution in the Gentile world, whence in process of time, by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the worship of One true God shall prevail all over the earth, as universally as Polytheism had done before. —This I dare not observe to my father, as he is an admirer of Mr. Hutchinson, and will not bear any contradiction: but my private judgment is, that Mr. Hutchinson on the Cherubim and Elohim or Eloim, is a mad commentator, as I may show you, if we ever happen to meet again.
At present, all I can do more on the Hebrew subject, is to observe that, in respect of the preservation of the Hebrew tongue, I imagine the one prevailing language before the miracle at Babel, (which one language was afterwards called Hebrew ) tho' divided and swallowed as it were at the Tower, was kept without change in the line of Shem, and continued their tongue. This cannot be disputed, I believe. I likewise imagine, it must be allowed, that this Hebrew continued the vernacular tongue of the old Canaanites. It is otherwise unaccountable how the Hebrew was found to be the language of the Canaanites, when the family of Abraham came among them again, after an absence of more than 200 years. If they had had another tongue at the confusion, was it possible for Abraham, during his temporary sojournments among them, and in the necessities of his peregrination, to persuade so many tribes to quit their dialect, and learn his language;—or, if his influence had been so amazing, can it be supposed, they would not return again to their old language, after he had left them, and his family was away from them more than 200 years? No, Sir. We cannot justly suppose such a thing. The language of the old Canaanites could not be a different one from the Hebrew. If you will look into Bochart (7) [Footnote 7: 2Kb] , you will find this was his opinion. That great man says the Ante-Babel language escaped the confusion two ways, viz. by the Canaanites, through God's providence preserving it in their colonies for the future use of the Hebrews, who were to possess the land; and by the patriarch Heber, as a sacred depositum for the use of his posterity and of Abraham in particular.
This being the case: the Phenician or Canaanitish tongue, being the same language that the line of Heber spoke, with this only difference, that by the latter it was retained in greater purity, being in the mouths of a few, and transmitted by instruction; it follows, that Abraham and his sons could talk with all these tribes and communities; and as to the other nations he had communication with, he might easily converse with them, as he was a Syrian by birth, and to be sure could talk the Aramitish dialect as well as Laban his brother. The Aramitish was the customary language of the line of Shem. It was their vulgar tongue. The language of the old world, that was spoken immediately before the confusion, and was called Hebrew from Heber, they reserved for sacred uses.
Here Miss Noel ended, and my amazement was so great, and my passion had risen so high for such uncommon female intelligence, that I could not help snatching this beauty to my arms, and without thinking of what I did, impressed on her balmy mouth half a dozen kisses. This was wrong, and gave very great offence: but she was too good to be implacable, and on my begging her pardon, and protesting it was not a wilful rudeness, but the magic of her glorious eyes, and the bright powers of her mind, that had transported me beside my self, she was reconciled, and asked me, if I would play a game of cards? With delight I replyed, and immediately a pack was brought in. We sat down to cribbage, and had played a few games, when by accident Miss Noel saw the head of my german flute, which I always brought out with me in my walks, and carried in a long pocket within side my coat. You play, Sir, I suppose, on that instrument, this lady said, and as of all sorts of musick this pleases me most, I request you will oblige me with any thing you please. In a moment I answered, and taking from my pocket book the following lines, I reached them to her, and told her I had the day before set them to one of Lulli's airs, and instantly began to breathe the softest harmony I could make—
Just as I was finishing this piece of musick, old Mr. Noel came into the parlour, in his wonted good humour, and seemed very greatly pleased with me and my instrument. He told me, I was the young man he wanted to be acquainted with, and that if it was no detriment to me, I should not leave him this month to come. Come, Sir, (continued this fine old gentleman) let me hear another piece of your musick— vocal or instrumental—as you will, for I suppose you sing as well as you play. Both you shall have, Sir, (I replied), to the best of my abilities, and by way of change, I will give you first a song, called the Solitude.
This song delighted the old gentleman to a great degree. He told me, he was charmed with it, not only for the fine musick I made of it, but the morality of it, and liked me so much, that I was most heartily welcome to make his solitary retreat my home, as often and as long as I pleased. And indeed I did so, and continued to behave in such a manner, that in two months time, I gained so intirely his affections, and so totally the heart of his admirable daughter, that I might have her in wedlock when I pleased, after the expiration of that current year, which was the young lady's request, and be secured of his estate at his death; beside a large fortune to be immediately paid down; and this, tho' my father should refuse to settle any thing on me, or Miss Noel, my wife. This was generous and charming as my heart could desire. I thought my self the happiest of men. Every week I went to Eden-Park, one time or other, to see my dear Miss Noel, and pay my respects to her worthy father. We were while I stayed a most happy family, and enjoyed such satisfactions as few I believe have experienced in this tempestuous hemisphere. Mr. Noel was passionately fond of his daughter, and he could not regard me more if I had been his own son. I loved my Harriot with a fondness beyond description, and that glorious girl had all the esteem I could wish she had for me. Our mutual felicity could rise no higher till we gave our hands, as we had already plighted our hearts.
This world is a series of visionary scenes, and contains so little solid, lasting felicity, as I have found it, that I cannot call life more than a deception; and, as Swift says it, he is the happiest man, who is best deceived. When I thought myself within a fortnight of being married to Miss Noel, and thereby made as compleatly happy in every respect as it was possible for a mortal man to be, the small pox steps in, and in seven days time, reduced the finest human frame in the universe to the most hideous and offensive block. The most amiable of human creatures mortifyed all over, and became a spectacle the most hideous and unbearable. —This broke her father's heart in a month's time, and the paradice I had in view, sunk into everlasting night.
My heart, upon this sad accident, bled and mourned to an extreme degree. All the tender passions were up in my soul, and with great difficulty could I keep my ruffled spirits in tolerable decorum. I lost what I valued more than my life—more than repeated millions of worlds, if it had been possible to get them in exchange. This engaged, beloved partner, was an honour to her sex, and an ornament to human kind. She was one of the wisest and most agreeable of women; and her life quite glorious for piety to God, compassion to the necessitous and miserable, benevolence and good will to all, with every other grace and virtue. These shined with a bright lustre in her whole deportment, and rendered her beloved, and the delight of all that knew her. Sense and genius were in her united, and by study, reflexion, and application, she improved the talents, in the happiest manner. She had acquired a superiority in thinking, speaking, writing, and acting, and in manners, her behaviour, her language, her design, her understanding, was inexpressibly charming. Miss Noel died in the 24th year of her age, the 29th of December, in the year 1724.
This dismal occurrence sat powerfully on my spirits for some time, and for near two months, I scarcely spoke a word to any one. I was silent, but not sullen. As my tears and lamentations could not save her, so I knew they could not fetch her back again. Death and the grave have neither eyes nor ears. The thing to be done upon so melancholly an occasion, is to adore the Lord of infinite wisdom, as he has a right to strike our comforts dead, and so improve the awful event, by labouring to render our whole temper and deportment christian and divine, that we may able to live, while we do live, superior to the strokes of fortune, and the calamities of human life; and when God bids us die, (in whatever manner, and at whatever time it may be) have nothing to do but to die, and so go enter into our master's joy. This is wisdom. This good we may extract from such doleful things. This was the effect my dear Miss Noel's death had on me, and when I saw myself deprived of so invaluable a thing in this world, I determined to double my diligence in so acting my part in it, that whenever I was to pass through the last extremity of nature, I might be dismissed with a blessing to another world, and by virtue of the sublime excellencies of our holy religion, proceed to the abodes of immortality and immutable felicity.
I wish I could persuade you, reader, to resolve in the same manner. If you are young, and have not yet experienced life, believe me, all is vanity, disappointment, weariness, and dissatisfaction, and in the midst of troubles and uncertainties, we are hastening on to an unknown world, from whence we shall never return again. Whether our dissolution be near, we know not; but this is certain, that death, that universal conqueror, is making after us apace, to seize us as his captives; and therefore, tho' a man live many years, and rejoice in them all, (which is the case of very few), yet let him remember the days of darkness.
And when death does come, our lot may be the most racking pains and distempers, to fasten us down to our sick-beds, till we resign our spirits to some strange region, our breath to the common air, and our bodies to the dust from whence they were taken. Dismal situation! If in the days of our health, we did not make our happiness and moral worth correspond—did not labour, in the time of our strength, to escape from wrong opinion and bad habit, and to render our minds sincere and incorrupt; if we did not worship and love the supreme mind, and adore his divine administration, and all the secrets of his providence. If this was not our case, before corruption begins to lay hold of us, deplorable must we be, when torments come upon us, and we have only hopeless wishes that we had been wiser, as we descend in agonies to our solitary retreat; to proceed from thence to judgment. Language cannot paint the horrors of such a condition. The anguish of mind, and the torture of body, are a scene of misery beyond Description.
Or if without torment, we lie down in silence, and sink into the land of forgetfulness, yet, since the Lord Jesus is to raise us from the regions of darkness, and bring us to the sessions of righteousness, where all our actions are to be strictly tried and examined, and every one shall be judged according to the deeds done in the body, whether they have been good or evil; what can screen us from the wrath of that mighty power, which is to break off the strong fetters of death, and to throw open the iron gates of the grave, if injustice, cruelty, and oppression, have been our practice in this world; or if, in the neglect of the distressed and hungry, we have given up ourselves to chambering and wantonness, to gluttony and voluptuousness? It is virtue and obedience, acts of goodness and mercy, that only can deliver us. If we worship in spirit and in truth the most glorious of immortal Beings, that God who is omnipotent in wisdom and action, and perform all the offices of love and friendship to every man, then our Lord will pronounce us the blessed of his Father. If we do evil, we shall come forth unto the resurrection of damnation. — This merits your attention, reader, and I hope you will immediately begin to ponder, what it is to have a place assigned in inconceivable happiness or misery for ever.
Having thus lost Miss Noel, and my good old friend, her worthy father, I left the university, and went down to the country, after five years and three months absence, to see how things were posited at home, and pay my respects to my father; but I found them very little to my liking, and in a short time, returned to Dublin again. He had lately married in his old age a young wife, who was one of the most artful, false, and insolent of women, and to gratify her to the utmost of his power, had not only brought her nephew into his house, but was ridiculously fond of him, and lavishly gratifyed all his desires. Whatever this little brute (the son of a drunken beggar, who had been a journey-man glover) was pleased, in wantonness, to call for, a