UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
ST. QUÆRIS.PLYINSULAWAMU NAM
CIRCUMSPICE
i
1817
817 WOW
SCIENTIA
ARTES
VERITAS
LIBRARY
OF THE
PLURIUS
Men
TIENOR
AMA.
1
GIFT OF
REGENT L·L'HUBBARD
૧
1944.3.184
2 lat,
RE
THE
LILLIPUTIAN LIBRARY,
OR
GULLIVERS MUSEUM
IN TEN VOLUME S.
CONTAINING
LECTURES ON MORALITY
HISTORICAL PIECES
INTERESTING FABLES
DIVERTING TALES
MIRACULOUS VOYAGES
SURPRISING ADVENTURES
REMARKABLE LIVES
POETICAL PIECES
COMICAL JOKES
USEFUL LETTERS.
The whole forming
A
COMPLETE SYSTEM
of JUVENILE KNOWLEDGE
for
the AMUSEMENT and IMPROVEMENT
of all
LITTLE MASTERS and MISSES,
Whether in Summer or Winter, Morning,
Noon or Evening
by
LILLIPUTIUS GULLIVER
Citizen of Utopia and Knight of the moſt noble ordrc of
human prudence
VOL. I - V.
B E R L I N
Sold by CHR, FRIDR. HIMBURG. 1782.
117.2.
B.
Hubbard
IMAG. Joy
PZ
G97
Rau Br. Room
Regent L. L. Hustand
gutt
8-4-1927
GULLIVER'S LECTURES
Vol. I.
CONTAINING
DI VERT I N G
TALES
AND
OTHER INTERESTING
STORIES
VOL. I.
A
GENUINE MEMOIRS
OF THE
LILLIPUTIAN LECTURER,
Written by himſelf, by way of
P R E FACE.
S it is the cuſtom of all little authors,
A
not only to give a preface to their
works, but even ſometimes an account of
themſelves, it certainly becomes me, as a
great and mighty writer, not only to tell
you what I intend to do, but alſo to make
you acquainted with, who I am.
Be it then known unto all my pretty little
auditors, whether Miſles or Maſters, that
I am no leſs a perſon than LILLIPUTIUS
Gulliver, Citizen of Utopia, and Knight
of the moſt noble order of Huinan Pru-
dence. In order to perpetuate my memo-
A 2
гу
4?
Memoirs of Gulliver.
ry to poſterity, I have here, in imitation
of other great writers, employed the moſt
capital deſigner of this age to draw the
annexed frontiſpiece, in which you ſee
my figure and features there ſtrongly marked.
Regard alſo all my little pupils, who ſit as
ſtill as puſs watching for a mouſe, to attend
to the doctrine I give them; and if you,
my little readers, will but fit as ſtill as
they do, I will tell you ſuch things, as
ſhall ſurpriſe, but not frighten you; as
thall make you in love with your book,
but not drive you from it; and ſuch
ſhall gain you the love of all, and the ill-
will of none.
aş
With reſpect to my own family, they
were reputable, but not rich; and my papa,
who was bred to the military life, was kil-
led in the fervice of his king and country
when I was but four years of age. Young
as I was, I was not inſenſible to the misfor.
tune of my mama, and ſhared with her in
her
Memoirs of Gulliver.
5
I
her grief. I hung round her neck, and,
while ſhe wiped the tears from my eyes,
“Do not cry, mama, ſaid I, I will
go to
the wars and revenge his death." - “Alas !
my dear little Gulliver, replied my mania,
you are but an infant, and the only reſpect
you are capable of ſhowing to the memory
of
your papa, will be carefully to attend
to my advice, to do what I bid you, and
obey me in every particular.” As well as
à freſh torrent of tears would permit me,
I proiniſed everything. From this moment,
my mama affected to be chearful, and to
conceal from me her tears; but we little
ones are more cunning and obſerving than
the generality of grown people imagine;
and I am ſure, when I have been talking
to her, ſhe frequently left me to give vent
to her tears in private.
As the manner in which my mama
treated me has laid the foundation of my
preſent greatneſs, it may not, perhaps, be
an unintereſting relation to all my pretty
little
A 3
6
Memoirs of Gulliver.
little readers; and this I ſhall give in as
few words as poſſible.
In order to give me the higheſt opinion
of God and religion, I was never ſuffered
to ſpeak of them but with the higheſt reve-
rence. My mama never permitted me to
be too free with her, but kept me at a
diſtance, was always grave, and, I ſome-
times thought, a little too ſevere with me;
for, if ſhe once denied ine a thing, all
the little arts I could inake uſe of, all the
wheedlings and coaxings, and even tears,
were ineffectual.
I was even ſometimes
wicked enough to ſuſpect that my mama
did not love me, and therefore I made it
my ſtudy to do everything I could to obtain
it: if ſhe bid me go any where, I went
that moinent; and if the commanded me
to fit ſtill, I never ſtirred from my ſeat till
ſhe permitted me.
I
Menoirs of Gulliver.
7
I never told a fib but once in my life,
and even that was to ſave a fervant from
anger; but I was moſt terribly puniſhed
for it: for my mama would never ſo much
as give me a ſmile for near a fortnight
afterwards. I am ſure I would not be ſo
puniſhed again for the world.
Whatever preſents I received, as a re-
ward' of my good behaviour., conſiſted
ge-
nerally of little books, which, they told
ine, would procure me laſting happineſs
and amuſernents. Sweat-meats were ſel-
dom given me, becauſe they ſaid ſuch things
would only give me a deſire for the dain-
ties of life; and as to any article of fine
dreſs, that was never given me by way
of reward, becauſe that was what I was
taught to deſpiſe.
Obftinacy, I foon found, did me no
kind of ſervice; I therefore preſently got.
rid of ſo dangerous an enemy. When any :
thing I aſked for was denied me, I never
A4
mnade
8 Memoirs of Gulliver.
made myſelf uneaſy about it, well know-
ing that would not obtain it. I therefore
made it my ſtudy to aſk for nothing that
I thought would be denied me.
I was very early taught to conſider
friendſhip and gratitude as two very amia-
ble virtues; and I was always fond of ſhow-
ing any liberality, by conſidering what I
gave to my companions as better employ.
ed than what I reſerved to inyſelf, ſince
I received in return, friendſhip, gratitude,
and good-will.
I was never ſuffered to attempt ſhow-
ing my wit at the expence of any one,
ſince that would be teaching me ill-nature
and malignity ; beſides, I was told, that
before I attempted to cenſure others, I
ought to be ſure I had no failings of my
own, which never could be the caſe.
Laſtly, I was taught to conſider talkati.
veneſs and pertneſs as two of the inoſt
dangerous companions I could have.
It
Memoirs of Gulliver.
19
. It was owing to this kind of treatinent
that I became univerſally beloved by all
the gentry in our neighbourhood, and
have ſeveral times had a chariot fent for
me, even at five miles diſtance. Where-
ever I went, I told all my little companions
the improving and diverting ſtories I had
read; for I was always fond of reading,
Sir Francis Goodwill, a very worthy ba-
ronet in our neighbourhood, obſerving,
that I was frequently fatigued with telling
my ſtories over and over again in the dif
ferent companies of my little companions,
hit upon the means of eaſing me of that
labour, and of making my leſſons of more
uſe: He accordingly erected a little kind
of deſk in his grand library, in which I
was twice a week to read a lecture to all
the little Miſſes and Maſters in the neigh-
bourhood, who were ſeated on forms be-
neath me, as repreſented in the frontil-
piece.
AS
There
i
IO
Memoirs of Gulliver.
Theſe lectures I compoſed from all the
prettieſt works I could collect, which gave
ſo much fatisfaction to Sir Francis, that he
inſiſted on my reviſing, and publiſhing
them to the world, in their preſent form,
for the improveinent and amuſement of
thoſe pretty little Miſſes and Maſters, who
could not have the opportunity of attend-
ing my lectures.
LILLIPUTIUS GULLIVER.
GUL-
IC
GULLIVER'S LECTURES,
LECTURE
I.
Prince CHERI, A Fairy Tale.
SHALL begin my lectures, my pretty
little auditors, with a fairy tale; and
when finiſhed, I ſhall make ſome obſervations
thereon.
IN a certain age lived a king, who was
ſo honeſt a man, that his ſubjects called
him The good King. One day, when he
was enjoyir.g the pleaſures of the chaſe,
a little white rabbit, which the hounds
were purſuing, leaped into his arms. The
king, careſſing the little rabbit, faid, “Sin-
ce you have put yourſelf under my protec-
tion, no harm fhall happen to you." He
carried the little rabbit to his palace, or.
dered a little pretty houſe to be made for
it, and good greens to be given it to feed
on.
At night, when alone in his chamber; a
beautiful lady ſuddenly appeared before him.
She had no robes of gold and ſilver, but her
habit
IZ
Gulliver's Lectures.
"L
Þabit was white as the ſnow; and inſtead
of a high head.dreſs, ſhe , had a crown of
white roſes on her head.
The good king was ſurpriſed at the fight
of this lady; for the door was locked, and
he knew not how ſhe could get in.
am, ſaid ſhe, a Fairy, and my name is
Sincerity. I paſſed through the woods
while you was hunting, and I was deſirous
to know whether you were ſo good as
every one ſays you are. For this purpoſe
I aſſumed the form of a little rabbit, and
ſaved myſelf in your arms; for I well know,
that thoſe who have a feeling for animals,
cannot feel leſs for human beings; and, if
you had refuſed me your protection, T
ſhould have concluded you are wicked. Aſk
what you will, I will grant it,"
“Madam, ſaid the good king, ſince
you are a Fairy, you ought to know my
wiſhes. I have but one ſon, whom I ten,
derly love; and for that reaſon, have named
him Prince Cheri. If you have any kind.
neſs to do me, become the friend of my
fon.'' “With all my heart, faid the
Fairy; I will make your fon the handſomeſt
prince in the world, the richeſt, or the
moſt powerful: chooſe for him which you
will."
Prince Cheri, a. Tale.
will."-"I defire nothing like theſe for my
fon, replied the good king, but I ſhould
be mach obliged to you, if you would
make him the beſt of all princes. What
would it avail him to be handſome, rich, or
to have the empire of the world, if he
were wicked? You well krow that he
would be unhappy, and that virtue onlý
can give contentment."
“You are right, ſaid the Fairy, but it is
not in my power to make Prince Cheri an
honeft man againſt his own will: he muſt
himſelf endeavour 'to become virtuous. All
that I can promiſe is, to give him my good
counſels, to make him fenfible of his faults,
and to puniſh him, if he will not correct
and puniſh himſelf.”
The good king was well fatisfied with
this promiſe, and died a ſhort time afteri
Prince Cheri truly lamented the death of
his father, for he loved him fincerely, and
would have given his kingdom, his gold,
and his ſilver to ſave him; but that was im.
poſſible. Some days after the death of the
good king, the fairy appeared to Cheri as
he was lying on his couch.
“I promiſed
your father, ſaid ſhe to him, to be your
friend; and, to keep my word, I come
to
14
Gulliver's Lectures.
to make you a preſent.” At the ſame time,
ſhe put a golden ring on the finger of Cheri,
and faid to him, "Take care of that ring,
for it is more precious than diamonds; every
time you commit an error it ſhall prick
your finger; but if, in ſpite of theſe prick-
ings, you continue to do wrong, you will
loſe my friendſhip, and I ſhall become your
enemy.”- The fairy, having thus ſpoken,
diſappeared, and left Cheri much aſtoniſhed.
He for ſome time acted fo prudently,
that the ring never once pricked him; and
this produced him ſo much contentment,
that his ſubjects added to the name of Cheri
that of Happy
Some time had elapſed,
when, purſuing the pleaſures of the chare,
he happened to meet with no game, which
put him into an ill humour. He then thought
he felt the ring brick his finger a little;
but, as it did not much hurt him, he took
little notice of it.
On entering his chamber, as foon as he
came home, his little dog Bibi ran to him to
welcome his return. Cheri ſaid to him,
“Begone! I am not in a humour to receive
your fawnings!” The poor little creature,
who did not underſtand him, laid hold of his
robe to make him look at him at leaſt, which
fo
Prince Cheri, a Tale.
IS
fo enraged Cheri, that he kicked him from
him with his foot. At that inſtant the ring
gave him ſuch a prick as if it had been
pricked with a needle. He was much afto.
niſhed at it, and fat down, alhamed of
himſelf, in a corner of his chamber. He
ſaid in himſelf, “I believe this fairy trifles
with me., What harm have I done in kick-
ing from me a troubleſome animal? What
fignifies it, that I am the maſter of a great
empire, if I have not even the liberty of
chaſtifing my dog?"
“I do not trifle with you, faid a voice
which anſwered to the thoughts of Cheri,
you have committed two faults, inſtead of
one. You have been in an ill humour,
becauſe you love not to be contradicted,
and you believe that beaſts and men
made only to obey you.
You have given
way to anger, which is a fault; and you
have been cruel to a poor animal, who me.
rited no ill treatment. I know that you
are much above a dog; but were it lawful
and reaſonable, that the great ſhould oppreſs
thoſe in a ſtation beneath them, I ſhould at
this moment beat you, kil you, becauſe a
fairy is fuperior to man. The advantage of
being maſter of a great empire, conſiſts not
in
are
16
Gulliver's Lectures, i
in being able to oppreſs others, but in doing
all the good we can.”
Cheri confeſſed his fault, and promiſed
to amend; but he did not keep his word.
He had been brought up by a fooliſh nurſe,
who fpoiled him in his infancy. She let
him have every thing he aſked for, eſpecially
if he cried, fretted, or kicked, which had
made him conceited. She was always telling
him, from morning till night, that he would
one day be a king; and that kings were very
happy, becauſe that all men were born to
obey them, to reſpect them, and were oblig-
ed to do whatever kings commanded them.
When Cheri was grown a great boy, and
began to reaſon upon things, he plainly pers
ceived, that nothing was fo contemptible
as to be haughty, proud, and conceited.
He had made fome efforts to correct theſe
errors; but he had acquired a bad habit,
which it is difficult to conquér: His heart
was not naturally inclined to wickedneſs;
for he would often weep when he had com.
mitted a fault, and was frequently heard to
ſay, “It is my misfortune to have continual
occaſion to combat againſt my anger and pri-
de: had I been properly corrected when
young, I thould not at this day have ſo much
trouble
Prince Cheri, a Tale. 17
trouble to conquer myſelf,” -- His ring fre.
quently pricked him, for little faults very
ſlightly; but, when he became wicked, it
even fetched blood from his finger. At laſt,
he grew tired of this check to his folly, and,
determining to be bad without reſtraint, he
threw away the ring. He then thought
himſelf ſupremely happy. He abandoned him.
ſelf to every idle courſe his debaſed mind
ſuggeſted to him, in ſo much that he became
perfectly wicked, and was hated and deſpiſ-
ed by every one.
One day, as Cheri was walking abroad,
he met a beautiful girl, whom he reſolved
Her name was Zelia, and ſhe
was as wife as beautiful.
Cheri thought
that Zelia would think herſelf extremely hap-
py in becoming ſo great a queen; but ſhe
thus ſpoke to him with great freedom: “Sir,
I am only a ſhepherdeſs, and have no fortu-
ne; but I will never marry you.
-
I appear diſagreeable to you? ſaid Cheri,
with a mixture of anger.-“No, my prin-
ce, replied Zelia, I conſider you ſuch as
you really are, very handſome; but of what
avail to me would be your beauty, your
riches, your fine clothes, or your magnifi-
cent equipages, if thoſe bad actions you
VOL. I.
B
every
to marry
6. Do
18
Gulliver's Lectures.
This man,
every day commit, ſhould force me to de
fpife and hate you?”_Cheri was enraged
at this, and ordered his officers to force her
to his palace.
He every day received freſh marks of
contempt from the young ſhepberdeſs; but
as he loved her, he could not reſolve to
uſe her ill. Among the favourites of Cheri
was his foſter brother, in whom he had plac-
ed an entire confidence.
whoſe
inclinations were as mean as his birth, flat.
tered the paſſions of his maſter, and gave
him bad advice.
Cheri, by the advice of his flatterers,
entered the chainber in which Zelia was fhut
up, and was very much ſurpriſed to find her
not there, for he had kept the key in his
pocket. He flew into a violent rage, and
vowed reyenge on thoſe whom he ſuſpected
of having aſſiſted in her eſcape. His favou-
rites, hearing him ſpeak thus, took the op-
portunity to prejudice him againſt a lord,
who had been his governor.
This was a
wife and honeſt man, who always took
the freedom to tell the king his faults. At
firſt Cheri thanked him for his admonitions;
afterwards, he grew impatient of contradic-
tion, and at laſt thought, that it was through
the
Prince Cheri, a Tale.
19
the ſpirit of contradiction that his governor
found fault with him, while every one elſe
applauded him.
Cheri's flatterers perſuaded him, that Suli-
man, for ſuch was the name of this wor-
thy man, boaſted of ſetting Zelia at liber.
ty. Theſe men were bribed to ſay, that
they had heard him and Zelia in converſa-
tion together. This fo enraged the prince,
that he ordered his guards to load Suliman
with irons, and conduct him to priſon.
As ſoon as theſe orders were executed,
Cheri retired into his chamber; but ſcarce
had he entered it, when the floor trembled,
a voice was heard loud as a clap of thunder,
and the fairy appeared before him. “I pro-
miſed to your father, ſaid the, in a ſevere
tone, to give you advice; and to puniſh
you
if you did not follow it. You have
deſpiſed my counſels, you have preſerved
nothing but the figure of a man, and your
crimes have changed you into a monſter,
deteſtable to heaven, and diſgraceful to earth.
It is time I ſhould fulfil my promiſe by pu.
niſhing you. I condemn you to become
like thoſe beaſts, whoſe inclinations you have
affumed: by your unbounded rage, you are
become like the lion; like the wolf by
your
B 2
20
Gulliver's LeEtures.
your gluttony, like the ſerpent by deceit;
and like the bull by your ferocity. You
now appear in a new ſhape, and bear ſome
reſemblance to all theſe animals."
Scarcely had the fairy finiſhed theſe words,
than Cheri ſaw himſelf horribly transformed.
He had the head of a lion, the horns of a
bull, the feet of a wolf, and the tail of a
ſerpent.
At the ſame time, he found himſelf in a
great foreſt, on the margin of a fountain, in
which he ſaw his horrible figure reflected,
and heard a voice which thus ſpoke to him;
“Behold attentively to what a condition thy
crimes have reduced thee; thy foul is beco-
me a thouſand times more frightful than
thy body.”
Cheri knew it was the voice of the fairy;
and, in his fury, he thought to dart upon
her and devour her, if that were poffible;
but he could no where find her, and the
ſame voice ſaid to him: “I deride thy rage
and weakneſs; but I will confound thy pride,
by making thy own ſubjects thy maſters.”
Cheri imagined, that if he ſhould remove
from this fountain, he ſhould find ſome re-
medy for his misfortunes, in not having his
hideous form perpetually repreſented to his
fight.
Prince Cheri, a Tale. 21
fight. He immediately ran into the thickeſt
part of the wood; but, before he had gone
far in it, he fell into a hole, which had
been dug to catch bears. At that inſtant,
the hunters, who had concealed themſelves
on the trees, haftened down, and, after hav-
ing chained him, conducted him into the
moſt capital city of his empire.
During the journey, inſtead of acknow-
ledging the juſtice of the puniſhment he ſuf-
fered, he abuſed the fairy, gnawed his chains,
and abandoned himſelf to fury. When he
approached the city to which they were
conducting him, he ſaw great rejoicings;
and the hunters having aſked if any thing
new had happened, they were told, that
Prince Cheri, whoſe only delight was to
torment his people, had been that day kil-
led in his palace by a clap of thunder, for
ſo it was generally believed. The Gods,
added they, not being able to ſuffer the ex-
çeſſes he committed, delivered the earth of
ſuch a monſter. Four noblemen, who had
been accomplices in his crimes, thought to
improve this opportunity, and divide the
empire among them; but the people, who
well knew it was their evil counſels that
had corrupted the king, rofe and tore them
B 3
in
22
Gulliver's Lectures,
in pieces, and offered the crown to Suliman,
whom the wicked Cheri would have put to
death. This worthy lord has juſt been
crowned, and we celebrate this day to him
as the deliverer of the kingdom; for he is
virtuous, and will reſtore peace and plenty
among us.
Cheri fighed with rage on hearing this
diſcourſe; but it was worſe, when he ar-
rived in the ſquare before his palace. Here
was Suliman feated on a rich throne, and
all the people wiſhing him long life, to re-
pair the miſchiefs his predeceſſor had occa-
ſioned.
Suliman made a ſign with his hand for
ſilence, and ſaid to the people, “I accept
the crown you have offered me, but it is
only to preſerve it for Prince Cheri : he is
not dead, as you believe him to be: a fairy
revealed to me this ſecret; and perhaps he
will one day return as virtuous as he was
when he began his reign. Alas! continued
he, ſhedding tears, flatterers feduced him.
I was well acquainted with his heart, which
was formed for virtue, and, had it not been
for the baſe fycophants that ſurrounded him,
he would have been a father to you all.
Deteft his vices, but pity him, and unani-
mouſly
Prince Cheri, a Tale. 23
mouſly join in prayers to the Gods to reſtore
him. As for me, I ſhould think myſelf too
happy in laying down my life to replace
him on this throne with diſpoſitions in him
proper to fulfil the duties of government.”
Theſe words of Suliman pierced the very
heart of Cheri; he then knew how ſincere
had been the attachment and fidelity of this
man, and for the firſt time, he reproached
himſelf for his crimes. Scarcely had he
made this good reflection, than the ferocity
peculiar to his form confiderably abated: he
reflected on all the paſt crimes of his life,
and from thence concluded, that he juſtly
merited his preſent puniſhment. He then
ceaſed to beat himſelf in his iron cage, in
which he was chained, and became as tame
as a ſheep. He was led to a large houſe,
commonly called the Menagerie, where
monſters and wild beaſts are kept, and placed
among them.
Cheri then took the reſolution to begin
to amend his faults, in ſhowing the utmoſt
obedience to his keeper. This man was of
a brutal diſpoſition; and though the imagi-
nary monſter was gentle and tractable; yet,
when he happened to be in an ill humour,
he would beat it without reaſon. One day,
while
B4
24
Gulliver's Lectures.
while this man was aſleep, a tyger, which
had broken his chain, was going to devour
him. Then Cheri felt an emotion of joy,
to think he ſhould have an opportunity of
doing a favour to his perfecutor; but his
joy was damped, when he conſidered he
was not at liberty; I wiſh, ſaid he, to re-
turn good for evil by ſaving the life of this
unfortunate man.
Scarce had he formed this wiſh, than he
ſaw his iron cage open, and he immediate.
ly ſprung to the ſide of the man, who, hay.
ing awoke from his fleep, was defending
himſelf againſt the tyger. The keeper thought
himſelf loſt when he ſaw another beaſt looſe;
but his fear was foon changed into joy: this
monſter, being very powerful, threw hini-
ſelf on the tyger, and in an inſtant laid him
dead at the feet of his keeper.
The man, penetrated with gratitude,
ftooped to careſs the monſter which had done
him ſo ſingular a ſervice; but he heard a
voice fay, A good action goes not without
its reward, and at the ſame time he ſaw
no longer a monſter, but a pretty little dog
at his feet. Cheri, enraptured with this ſud-
den change, paid a thouſand marks of eſteem
to his keeper, who took him in his arms
and
Prince Cheri, a Tale.
25
and carried him to the king, to whom he
related this wonder.
The queen took the little Dog, and Cheri
would have found himſelf happy in his new
condition, could he have forgotten that he
was a man, and a king. The queen loaded
him with carefles; but, being afraid he
would grow larger, ſhe conſulted her phy-
ſicians how ſhe might ſtop his growth.
They directed her to feed him only with
bread, and to give him even of that a ſmall
quantity: thus the poor Cheri familhed one
half the day; but he bore it patiently.
One day, having received his ſmall allow-
ance of bread for his breakfaſt, the fancy
took him, to go and eat it in the garden
of the palace. He took it in his mouth,
and walked towards a canal, at no great
diſtance, which he had formerly been uſed
to frequent. He could find no canal, but
inſtead of it a large houſe, the outſide of
which glittered with gold and precious ſto-
He ſaw enter therein a great number
of men and women magnificently dreſſed:
they ſung and danced in the houſe, and
lived fumptuouſly; but all that came out of
it were pale, meagre, covered with wounds,
and almoſt naked, their clothes being torn to
rags.
nes.
B 5
26
Gulliver's Lectures,
rags. Some of them fell down dead as they
came out, having no ſtrength to go farther;
ſome got away with much difficulty; others
were ſtretched on the earth, and dying with
hunger. They begged bread of thoſe who
entered the houſe, but they regarded them
not. Among theſe unhappy people, Cher
perceived a young woman plucking the graſs
to eat. He had compaſſion for her, and
ſaid in himſelf, "I am hungry, but I ſhal
not die before my dinner time comes: if I
ſacrifice my breakfaſt to this young woman,
perhaps I ſhall ſave her life.” He reſolved
to give way to his good inclinations, and
put his bread into the hands of the young
woman, who eat it greedily.
The young woman appeared perfectly
ſatisfied; and Cheri, highly pleaſed with this
opportunity of doing good, was thinking
of returning to the palace, when he heard
lamentable cries: it was Zelia in the arms
of four men, who were dragging her to
this fine houſe, into which they forced her
to enter. Cheri then regretted that he had
loft his laſt ſhape and ſtrength, ſince, as a
monſter, he ſhould have been able to deli-
ver her from the hands of theſe ruffians,
but, as a weak dog, he could only bark at
and
Prince Cheri, a Tule.
27
and follow them. One of the ruffians gave
him a kick; but he reſolved not to quit
them till he faw what became of Zelia. He
then reproached himſelf for the misfortunes
of this beautiful girl: “Alas! ſaid he in
himſelf, I am angry with theſe ruffians:
have not I committed the ſame crime? If
the juſtice of the Gods had not prevented
my attempts, ſhould not I have treated
her with the ſame indignities?”
Cheri was then reflecting upon his paſt
iniſconduct; but theſe reflections were inter-
rupted by a noiſe made over his head. He
faw a window open, and his joy was inex-
preſſible, when he perceived Zelia throw
out a plate ful of nice food, the very fight
of which gave him an appetite. The win-
dow was fhut immediately, and Cheri, hav-
ing eat nothing all the day, was refolved
to feed heartily; but the girl, to whom he
had given his bread, ſhrieked and catched
him in her arms: “Poor little animal, ſaid
fhe to him, touch not thoſe dainties: that
houſe is the palace of voluptuouſneſs and
wickedneſs, and every thing which comes
out of it is poiſoned.
At the ſame time Cheri heard a voice that
faid, “Thou ſeeſt that a good action goes
1307
28
Gulliver's Lectures.
110t without its reward;” and immediately
he was changed into a beautiful white pi-
geon. He remembered that his colour was
now that of the fairy, and he began to hope,
that he ſhould in time recover her favours.
His firſt wiſh was to approach Zelia; and,
raiſing himſelf in the air, he flew ſeveral
times round the houſe, but could ſee no.
thing of Zelia in any of the apartments. He
concluded ſhe was gone from thence, and
removed to ſome diſtant place. He flew
ſeveral days in purſuit of her, and being
come to a deſart, he ſaw a cavern, to which
he approached. How great was his joy!
Zelia was there ſeated by the ſide of a ve.
nerable hermit, partaking with him part of
a frugal repaſt.
Chieri, tranſported with joy, flew upon
the ſhoulders of the lovely ſhepherdeſs, and
expreſſed, by his careſſes, the pleaſure he
had in ſeeing her. Zelia, charmed with the
fondneſs of this little animal, ſtroked liin
tenderly with her hand; and, not knowing
he could underſtand her, faid to him, the
would accept the gift he had made of him.
ſelf, and would love him all her life.
“What have you done, Zelia? ſaid the
hermit. You have engaged your faith!”
"Yes,
Prince Cheri, a Tale. 29
“Yes, charming ſhepherdeſs, ſaid Cheri to
her, who at that inſtant recovered his natu.
ral form, my deliverance from the ſtrange
figures in which I have lately appeared is
owing only to your conſent to our union.
You have promiſed to love me; confirm
my happineſs."
“You have now nothing to fear from his
inconſtancy”, ſaid the fairy, who, quitting
the figure of the hermit in which ſhe had
diſguiſed herſelf, appeared before them in her
real form. “Zelia loved you, continued
the fairy, as ſoon as ſhe ſaw you; but your
vices compelled her to conceal it from you.
You will both live happy, becauſe your
union is founded on virtue."
Cheri and Zelia threw themſelves at the
feet of the fairy, and each' confirmed the
confeffion of their tenderneſs. “Riſe, my
children, ſaid the fairy to them, you ſhall
foon be in your palace, where Cheri ſhall
again receive the crown his vices had ren-
dered him unworthy of.” Scarce had fhe
done ſpeaking, when they found themſelves
in the chamber of Suliman, who, fupreme-
ly happy in ſeeing his maſter become virtu-
ous, replaced him on the throne, and con-
tinued to be his moſt faithful ſubject. Cheri
and
30 Gulliver's Lcctures. Prince Cheri a Tale.
and Zelia reigned a long time happy with
each other; and it is ſaid, that the ring
which he again wore never once pricked him
ſo as to fetch blood.
Having now finiſhed my tale, it may be
neceſſary to make ſome obſervations thereon.
You muſt not believe, that there ever were
any ſuch beings as fairies, any more than
ſpirits or apparitions; for the belief in ſuch
things as theſe, belongs only to weak and
vulgar minds. What is here repreſented
under the influence of a fairy, is only a fa-
miliar method of fhewing you what the
power of God can do when he pleaſes. Cheri's
ring is nothing more than that prick of con-
ſcience, which every one feels on commit-
ting a bad action, before they have been
hardened in vice; but when, from the
commiſſion of one crime to another, they
become hardened in naughty actions, like
Cheri, they throw off all conſtraints, and
feel no more remorſe. I hope, however,
all my little auditors, by liſtening to the
wife councils of their parents and friends,
will one day become as happy as Prince
Cheri was at laſt.
LECT
31
LECTURE
II.
I Shall this evening preſent my little audi-
tors with two pretty little ſtories, which
I hope will contribute to their amuſement:
DAMON was a native of Megaris, and of
an illuſtrious family in Greece, a brave and
heroic young man, but too fond of grandeur,
whoſe expenſive living plunged him in a ſea
of troubles, and obliged him to fly with his
wife Dorcas to a country feat on the ſea
ſhore. Dorcas was highly eſteemed for her
wit and deportment, and had been addrefled
by many of ſuperior fortune to Damon, but
his merit determined her choice. Damon
could have borne with leſs impatience the
ſevereſt frowns of fortune, had he ſuffered
alone; and Dorcas with concern obſerved,
that her preſence augmented the pains of
her unhappy Damon. Their greateſt com-
fort aroſe from the reflection that heaven
had bleſſed them with two children, beau-
teous as the Graces. The ſon's name was
Clodio, and the daughter's Phebe: Clodio
in his air and mien was unaffected, foft,
and engaging; yet his aſpect was noble,
bold,
32
Gulliver's Lectures.
bold, and commanded reſpect. His father
caſt his longing eyes upon him, and wept
with a paternal fondneſs, and took much
pains, and with ſucceſs, to inſtil in him the
love of virtue. Phebe was by her mother
as carefully inſtructed in all female accom.
pliſhments. She appeared equal to Diana
without the advantage of dreſs. The con-
duct and economy of the family was her
whole employment. The thoughts of Da-
mon were ever dark and gloomy, without
hopes of returning from his baniſlıment, ſeek.
ing always to be alone; the fight of his
wife and children did but aggravate his for-
row, and drove him to the deepeſt melan-
choly; in ſhort, he was weary of life, and
ready to ſink under his misfortunes. One
day, tired and fatigued with thought in one
of his folitary walks, reclining on a bank,
he fell aſleep; in his dream, the goddeſs
Ceres, crowned with golden fheaves, ap-
proached him with an air of majeſty and
ſweetneſs.
“Why, my Damon, ſaid ſhe , art thou
thus inconſolable? why art thou thus over-
whelmed with thy misfortunes?”
replied he, I am abandoned by my friends;
my eſtate is all loft; law-ſuits, and my
creditors
“ Alas!
Damon a Tale.
33
creditors for ever perplex me. The thoughts
of my birth, and the figure I have made in the
world, are all aggravations of my miſery;
and to tug at the oar like a galley flave for
a bare fubfiftence, is an act too mean, and
what my ſpirit can never comply with.'
"Does then nobility, replied the Goddeſs,
conliſt in the affluence of fortune? No, no
Damon, but in the heroic imitation of your
virtuous anceſtors. The juſt man alone is
truely great and noble. Nature is fufficed
with a little; enjoy that little with the ſweat
of thy brow; live free from dependence,
and no man will be nobler than thyſelf; lu-
xury
and ambition are the ruin of mankind.
If thou wanteſt the conveniencies of life,
who can better ſupply thee than thyſelf?
Art thou terrified at the thoughts of attain-
ing them by induſtry and application?” She
faid, and immediately preſented him with
a golden plough-ſhare and horn of plenty.
Bacchus next appeared, crowned with joy,
attended by. Pan playing on his rural pipe.
Pomona next advanced, laden with fruits;
and Flora drefled in all her gayeſt ſweeteſt
flowers. In ſhort all the rural Deities caft a
favourable eye on Damon.
Vol. I.
C
He
34
Gulliver's Lectures.
He waked fully convinced of the applica-
tion and moral uſe he ought to make of this
celeſtial dream. A dawn of confort all on
a ſudden ſhot through his ſoul, and he found
new inclinations ariſe for the labours of the
plain. He communicated his dream to the
fair Dorcas, who rejoiced with him, and
approved of his interpretations. The next
day they leffened their retinue, diſcharged
their equipage, and reſigned all grandeur.
Dorcas, with Phebe, confined herſelf to the
domeſtic employments of a rural life; all
their fine needle works were now no more
regarded; they accuſtomed themſelves to the
uſe of the diſtaff. Their proviſions were
the produce of their own induſtry. They
milked their kine, which now began to
fupply them with plenty. They purchaſed
nothing without doors; their food was plain
and ſimple, and they enjoyed with that true
reliſh which is inſeparable from toil and la-
bour. In this rural manner they lived,
every thing was neat and decent about
them. All the coſtly tapeſtry was diſpoſed
of; yet the walls were perfectly white,
and no part of the houſe either dirty or in
diſorder. Dorcas at the entertainment of
her friends made the beſt of paſtry. She
kept
Damon a Tale. -
35
kept bees which ſupplied her with honey.
Her cows furniſhed her with milk. Her
garden, by her induſtry and ſkill yielded
every thing both uſeful and ornamental.
Phebe trod in the ſteps of her induſtrious
mother; ever chearful at her work, finging
while ſhe penned her ſheep. No neighbour's
flock could rival her's; no contagious diftem-
per, no ravenous wolves durſt ever approach
them. Her tender lambkips danced on the
plains at her melodious notes, while ſweet
echo returned the dying ſounds. Damon
tilled his own grounds, and did all the du-
ties of a huſbandman, and was fully con-
vinced it was a leſs laborious, more inno.
cent and advantageous life, than the ſoldier's.
Ceres with her yellow fruits repaid the debt
ſhe owed him. Winter was the ſeaſon for
repoſe, when all the family were innocent.
ly gay, and thankful to the Gods for all
their harmleſs unambitious pleaſures. They
eat po fleſh but at their facrifices, and their
cattle never died but upon their altars.
Clodio was thoughtful and ſedate beyond his
years; he took the care of the larger cattle,
cut down oaks, dug aqueducts for watering
the meadows, and with his induſtry would
eaſe his father. His leiſure hours were
C 2
employ.
39
Gulliver's Lectures.
employed in hunting, or the improvement
of his ſtudies, of which his father had laid
a folid foundation.
In a little time Damon, by a life thus
led in innocence and ſimplicity, was in better
circumſtances than at firſt; his houſe was
ftored with conveniencies, though nothing
ſuperfluous. His company for the moſt part
was in the compaſs of his own family, who
lived in perfect love and harmony, and con-
tributed to each others happineſs. Their
enjoyments were ſweet, innocent, and eaſy
to be obtained. The increaſe of their ſtock
introduced no new and luxurious courſe of
life. Their diet, frugal as before, and their
induſtry continued with equal vigour. Da-
mon's friends now preſſed him to reſume
his former poſt, and ſhine again in the buſy
world. To whom he replied, "Shall I again
give way to pride and extravagance, that
were the fatal cauſe of all my misfortunes!
or ſpend my future days in rural labours,
which have not only made me rich again,
but, what is more, completely happy?"
To conclude, one day he took a tour to
the place where Ceres, had thus kindly
directed his conduct in a dream, and repof-
ed himſelf on the graſs with as much fere-
nity
Dainoa a Tale.
37
nity of mind, as before with confuſion and
deſpair. There he ſlept again, and again
the Goddeſs Ceres in the like friendly man.
per approached, and thus addreſſed him;
“True nobility, O Damon, conſiſts in re-
ceiving no favours from any one, and be .
ftowing them with a liberal hand on all.
Have your dependence on nothing but the
fruitful bofom of the earth, and the works
of your own hands. Never reſign that for
luxury and empty ſhow, which is the na-
tural and inexhauſtible foundation of true
happineſs."
The other ſtory I have to relate to you
is no leſs pleaſing than the former:
A GENTLEMAN married for his ſecond
wife the proudeſt and moſt haughty woman
that ever was ſeen. She had, by a former
huſband, two daughters, but of her own
humour, who were indeed exactly like her
'in all things. He had, likewiſe, by another
wife, a young daughter of an unparallelled
goodneſs and ſweetneſs of temper which
ſhe took from her mother, who was the
beſt creature in the world.
No ſooner were the ceremonies of the
wedding over; but the mother-in-law began
C 3
to
38
Gulliver's Lectures.
to ſhow herſelf in her colours. She could
not bear the good qualities of this pretty
girl, and the leſs, becauſe ſhe made her
own daughters appear the more odious.
She employed her in the meaneſt work in
the houſe; fhe ſcoured the diſhes, tables,
&c, and rubbed madam's chamber, and thoſe
of the miffes, her daughters; ſhe lay up
in a ſorry garret upon a wretched ſtraw
bed, while her fifters lay in fine rooms,
with floors all inlaid, upon beds of the very
neweſt faſhion, and where they had look-
ing-glaſſes fo large, that they might ſee
themſelves at their full length from head to
foot. The poor girl bore all patiently, and
dared not to tell her father, who would
have rattled her off, for his wife governed
him entirely. When ſhe had done her work,
ſhe uſed to go into the chimney-corner,
and ſit down among the cinders and aſhes,
which made her commonly be called Cin-
der-Breech: but the youngeſt, who was
not fo rude and uncivil as the eldeft, called
her Cinderilla. However, Cinderilla, not-
withſtanding her mean apparel, was a hund-
red times handſomer than her ſiſters,
though they were always dreſſed very
richly.
It
Cinderilla, a Tale. 39
S
?
It happened that the king's ſon gave a
ball, and invited all perſons of faſhion to it:
our young miffes were alſo invited; for
they cut a very grand figure among the
quality. They were mightily delighted at
this invitation, and wonderfully buſy in
chooſing out ſuch gowns, petticoats, and
headcloths, as might beſt become them.
This was a new trouble to Cinderilla; for
it was fhe who ironed her ſiſter's linen,
and clear ſtarched their ruffles; they talked
all day long of nothing but how they ſhould
be dreſſed. “For my part, ſaid the eldeſt,
I will wear my red velvet fuit with French
trimmings." -- "And I, ſaid the youngeſt,
Thall only bave my uſual petticoat; but then
to make amends for that, I will put on my
gold-flowered mantua, and my diamond fto-
macher, which is far from being the moſt
ordinary one in the world." They ſent
for the beſt tirewoman they could get, to
make up their head-dreſſes, and adjuſt their
double pinners, and they had their red
bruſhes and patches from a French milliner.
Cinderilla was likewiſe called up to them
to be conſulted in all thoſe matters, for ſhe
had excellent notions, and adviſed them al-
ways for the beſt; nay, and offered her
ſervice
C
40
Gulliver's Lectures.
ſervice to dreſs their heads, which they
were very willing fhe ſhould do. As the
was doing this, they ſaid to her, “Cin-
derilla, would you not be glad to go to the
ball?" – "Ah! ſaid ſhe, you only jeer me';
it is not for ſuch as I am to go to balls ?”
“Thou art in the right of it, replied they,
it would make the people laugh to ſee a
cinder-breech at a ball.” Any one but Cin-
derilla would have drefled their heads awry;
but ſhe was very good, and dreſſed them
perfectly well. They were almoſt two days
without eating, ſo much they were tranſ-
ported with joy; they broke a dozen of
laces in trying to be laced up cloſe, that
they might have a fine flender ſhape, and
they were continually at their looking-glaſs.
At laſt the happy day came, they went to
court, and Cinderilla followed them with
her eyes as long as ſhe could, and when
The had loſt fight of them, ſhe fell a
crying.
Her godmother, who ſaw her all in tears,
aſked her what was the matter? “I wiſh I
could I wiſh I could."- She was not able
to ſpeak the reſt, being interrupted by her
tears and fobbing. This godmother of her's,
who was a fairy, ſaid to her, “Thou
wiſheſt
Cinderilla a Tale.
41
wifheft thou could'ſt go to the ball; is it
not ſo?” “Y-es,” cry'd Cinderilla, with
a great figh. “Well, ſaid her godmother,
be but a good girl, and I will contrive that
thou ſhalt go.
Then ſhe took her into
her chamber, and ſaid to her, “Run into
the garden, and bring me a pompion." Cin-
derilla went immediately to gather the fineſt
ſhe could get, and brought it to her god-
mather, but was not able to imagine how
this pompion could make her go to the ball.
Her godmother ſcooped out all the inſide of
it, leaving nothing but the rind: which done,
ſhe ſtruck it with her wand, and the poin-
pion was inſtantly turned into a fine coacb,
gilded all over with gold.
She then went to look into her mouſe-
trap, where ſhe found fix, mice all alive, and
ordered Cinderilla to lift up a little of the
trap.door; when giving each mouſe, as it
went out, a little tap with her wand, the
mice were that moment: turned into fair
horſes, which altogether made a very fine
ſet of fix horſes of a beautiful mouſe.colour-
ed dapple-grey. Being at a loſs for a coach-
man, "I will go and ſee, ſays Cinderilla, if
, there be ever a rat in the rat-trap, we may
make a coachman of him." “Thou art in
C 5
the
42
Gulliver's Lectures.
the right, reply'd her godmother, go and
look.” Cinderilla brought the trap to her,
and in it there were three huge rats. The
fairy made choice of one of the three, which
had the largeſt beard, and having touched
him with her wand, he was turned into a
fat jolly coachman, who had the ſmarteſt
whiſkers eyes ever beheld.
After that, fhe faid to her, “Go again
into the garden, and you will find fix lizards
behind the watering-pot, bring them to me.”
She had no ſooner done it, than her god-
mother turned them into fix footmen, who
ſkipped up immediately behind the coach,
with their liveries all bedaubed with gold
and ſilver, and clung as cloſe behind each
other as if they had done nothing elſe all
their whole lives. The fairy then ſaid to
Cinderilla, “Well, you ſee here an equipa-
ge fit to go to the ball with; are you not
pleaſed with it?” “O! yes, cried ſhe, but
muk I go thither as I am, in theſe poiſon-
ed naſty rags!” Her godmother only juſt
touched her with her wand, and at the ſame
inſtant her clothes were turned into cloth
of gold and filver, all beſet with jewels.
This done, ſhe gave her a pair of glaſs
Slippers, the prettieſt in the whole world.
Being
Cinterilla, a Talu,
43
Being thus decked out, ſhe got up into
her coach; but her godmother, above all
things, commanded her not to ſtay till af
ter midnight, telling her at the ſame time,
" that if ſhe ſtayed at the ball one moment
longer, her coach would be a pompion
again, her horſes mice, her coachman a rat,
her footmen lizards, and her clothes beco-
me juſt as they were before. »
She promiſed her godmother, "ſhe would
not fail of leaving the ball before midnight;":
and then away ſhe drives, ſcarce able to con-
tain herſelf for joy. . The king's ſon,
, who
was told that a great princeſs, whom nobo
dy knew, was come, ran out to receive
her; he gave her his hand as ſhe alighted
out of the coach, and led her into the room
among all the company. There was im-
mediately a profound filence; they left off
dancing, and the violins ceaſed to play, ſo
attentive was every one to contemplate the
ſingular beauties of this unknown new.co.
Nothing was then heard but a con-
fufed noiſe of “Ha! how handſome ſhe is!
how handſome ſhe is!” The king himſelf,
old as he was, could not help ogling her,
and telling the queen ſoftly, “That it was
a long time ſince he had ſeen ſo beautiful
and
mer.
44
Gulliver's LeEtures.
and lovely a creature." All the ladies
were buſy in conſidering her clothes and
head-dreſs, that they might have fome made
next day after the fame pattern, provided
they could meet with ſuch fine materials,
and as able hands to make them.
The king's fon conducted her to the moſt
honourable feat, and afterwards took her out
to dance with him: She danced ſo very gra-
cefully, that they all more and more admi-
red her. A fine collation was ſerved up,
whereof the young prince eat not a morſel,
ſo intently was he bufied in gazing on her.
She went and ſat down by her ſiſters, ſhow-
ing them a thouſand civilities, giving them
à part of the oranges and citrons which the
prince had preſented her with; which very
much ſurpriſed them, for they did not know
her. While Cinderilla was thus amuſing
her fifters, ſhe heard the clock ſtrike eleven
and three quarters; whereupon the immedia-
tely made a curtſy to the company, and
haſtened away as faſt as ſhe could.
Being got home, ſhe ran to ſeek out
her godmother, and after having thanked her,
ſhe faid, “She could not but heartily with
ſhe might go next day to the ball, becauſe
the king's fon had deſired her.” As ſhe
was
Cinderilla, a Tale. . 45
was eagerly telling her godmother whatever
paſſed at the ball, her two fifters knocked
at the door, which Cinderilla ran and open-
ed, “How long you have ſtayed,” cried
fhe, gaping, rabbing her eyes, and ſtretch-
ing herſelf, as if ſhe had been juſt awaken-
ed out of her ſleep: ſhe had not, however,
any manner of inclination to ſleep ſince they
went from home...“If thou had'ft been at
.
the ball, fays one of her fifters, thou would'ſt
not have been tired with it; there came
thither the fineſt princeſs, the moſt beauti-
ful ever ſeen with mortal eyes; the ſhow.
ed us a thouſand civilities, and gave us oran-
ges and citrons. "
Cinderilla ſeemned very
indifferent in the matter; indeed ſhe aſked
them the name of that princeſs; but they
told her, "They did not know it; and that
the king's fon was very uneaſy on her ac-
count, and would give all the world to
know where ſhe was.” At this Cinderilla,
ſmiling, reply'd, “She muſt then be very
beautiful indeed: Lord! how happy you
have been! Could I not ſee her? Ah! dear
Miſs Charlotte, do you lend me your yel-
low ſuit of clothes which you wear every
day.” “Aye, to be ſure, cry'd Miſs Char-
lotte, lend my clothes to ſuch a dirty cin-
der-
46
Gulliver's Lectures:
der-breech as thou art! who's the fool then?»
Cinderilla indeed expected ſome ſuch anſwer,
and was very glad of the refuſal; for ſhe
would have been fadly put to it, if her ſiſter
had lent her in earneſt what ſhe aſked for
jeſtingly.
The next day the two ſiſters were at the
ball, and ſo was Cinderilla, but dreſſed more
magnificently then before. The king's ſon
was always by her, and never ceaſed his
compliments and amorous ſpeaches to her;
to whom all this was fo far from being ti-
refome, that the quite forgot what her god.
mother had recommended to her; ſo that
ſhe at laſt counted the clock ſtriking twelve,
when ſhe took it to be no more than eleven;
ſhe then roſe up and fled as nimble as a deer.
The prince followed, but could not overta-
ke her. She left behind one of her glaſs
flippers, which the prince took up moſt
carefully.
She got home; but quite out of breath,
without coach or footmen, and in her nafty
old clothes, having nothing left her of all
her finery, but one of the little ſlippers,
fellow to that ſhe dropped. The guards at
the palace gate were aſked, "If they had
not ſeen a princeſs go out?" who faid,
They
}
Cinderilla, a Tale. 47
They had ſeen nobody go out, but a young
girl, very meanly dreſſed, and who had
more the air of a poor country wench, than
a gentlewoman.
When the two fifters returned from the
ball, Cinderilla aſked them, “If they had
been well diverted, and if the fine lady had
been there?" They told her, “Yes, but
that the hurried away immediately when it
ftruck twelve, and with ſo much hafte, that
The dropped one of her little glaſs ſlippers,
the prettieſt in the world, and which the
king's fon had taken up; that he had done
nothing but look at her all the time of the
ball, and that moſt certainly he was very
much in love with the beautiful perſon who
owned the little ſlipper.
What they faid was very true, for a
few days after, the king's fon cauſed it to
be proclaimed by found of trumpet, that
he would marry her whoſe foot that ſlipper
would juſt fit. They whom he employed
began to try it upon the princeſſes, then the
ducheſſes, and all the court, but in vain;
it was then brought to the two fifters, who
did all they poſſibly could to thruſt a foot
into the ſlipper, but they could not effect
it. Cinderilla, who ſaw all this, and knew
her
48
Gulliver's Lectures.
her ſlipper, ſaid to them, laughing, "Let
me fee if it will not fit me?" Her fifters
burſt out a laughing, and began to banter,
The gentleman who was fent to try the
flipper looked earneſtly at Cinderilla, and
finding her very handfome, faid, "It was
but juſt that ſhe ſhould try; and that he had
orders to let every one make tryal." He
obliged Cinderilla to ſit down, and putting
the ſlipper to her foot, he found it went on
very eaſily, and fitted her as if it had been
made of wax. The aſtonishment her two
fiſters were in was exceſſively great, but
ſtill abundantly greater when Cinderilla pal-
led out of her pocket the other ſlipper, and
put it on her foot. Thereupon in came
her godmother, who having touched with
her wand Cinderilla's clothes, made them
richer and more magnificent than any of
thoſe ſhe had before.
And now her two fifters found her to be
that fine beautiful lady they had ſeen at the
ball. They threw themſelves at her feet, to
beg pardon for the ill-treatment they had
made her undergo. Cinderilla took them up,
and, as fhe embraced them, faid, “That
ſhe forgave them with all her heart, and de-
Sired them always to love her.” She was
conduct
Cinderilla, a Tale.
49
conducted to the young prince, dreſſed as
The was; he thought her more charming
than ever, and a few days after he married
her. Cinderilla, who was no leſs good
than beautiful, gave her two ſiſter's lodgiogs
in the palace, and that very ſame day match.
ed them with two great lords of the court.
The firſt of theſe ſtories, my pretty little
Mifles and Maſters, evidently ſpeaks for it-
ſelf; but I muſt not cloſe this Lecture with-
out mentioning a few words concerning the
latter tale.
All that is ineant by this ſtory is, that
there is no ſurer way to happineſs than by
being good, civil, and obliging. Though
Cinderilla was more beautiful and amiable
than her fifters, fhe chearfully ſubmitted to
them; and, when 'fortune had raiſed her
above them, inſtead of thowing a mean fpi-
rit of reſentment, ſhe loaded them with
favours. The power of the fairy, as I told
you in the concluſion of my firſt Lecture,
is only a familiar method of ſhowing what
God is capable of doing when he pleaſes.
He will certainly alliſt all thoſe, whoſe mis.
fortunes do not flow from their own mir.
conduct; and, with his bleſſing, there is
no difficulty in this life, which care, indu-
VOL. I.
D
ſtry,
So
Gulliver's Lectures.
ftry, and patience, will not conquer. Bud
do not, my dear little ones, place your
happineſs in the wearing of fumptuous ha-
bits, or in living in palaces; for pride never
can be ſatisfied, and a palace is ſeldom the
abode of happineſs.
1
LECTURE III.
I SHALL now read you, my pretty little
pupils, a ſtory of ſome conſequence, which
may ſerve to convince you, that Avarice
and Ingratitude are not only hateful vices,
but often deſtructive of thoſe very means
we propoſe them to anſwer.
A DERVISE, venerable by his age, fell
ill in the houſe of a woman, who had long
been a widow, and lived in extreme pover-
ty in the ſuburbs of Balſora. He was ſo
touched with the care and zeal with which
ſhe affifted him, that at his departure he ſaid
to her, I have remarked that you have
enough to fubfift on alone, but not a fuffi-
ciency to maintain yourſelf, and your ſon
the young Abdalla. If you will therefore
truſt him to my care, I will endeavour to
acknow-
Abdalla, a Tale.
51
acknowledge in his perſon the obligation
I have to you for your care of me.
The
good woman received his propoſal with joy,
and the Derviſe departed with the young
man, advertiſing her, that they muſt perform
a journey which would laſt near two years:
as they travelled he kept him in affluence,
gave him excellent inſtructions, and took
the ſame care of him as if he had been his
own fon. Abdalla a hundred times teſtified
his gratitude to him for all his bounties; but
the old man always anſwered, "My fon, it
is by actions that gratitude is proved, we
ſhall fee in a proper time and place, whether
you are lo grateful as you pretend.”
One day, as they continued their travels,
they found themſelves in a ſolitary place,
when the derviſe thus addreſſed Abdalla:
My ſon, we are now at the end of our
journey; I ſhall employ prayers to obtain
from heaven, that the earth may open, and
make an entrance wide enough, to permit
thee to deſcend into a place, where thou
wilt find one of the grateſt treaſures that
the earth inclofes in her bowels; haft thou
courage to deſcend into this ſubterraneous
vault?” Abdalla ſwore to him, he might de-
pend upon his obedience and zeal. Then
the
Da
$2
Gulliver's Lectures.
!
the Derviſe read and prayed for ſome mo-
ments, after which the earth opened, and
the Derviſe ſaid to him, “Thou mayeſt
Dow enter, my dear Abdalla, remember
that it is in thy power to do me a great ſer-
vice, and that this is perhaps the only oppor-
tunity thou can'ſt ever have of teſtifying to
me that thou art not ungrateful: do not
let thyſelf be dazzled by all the riches that
thou wilt find there; think only of ſeizing
upon an iron candleſtick with twelve bran-
ches, that is abſolutely neceſſary to me, then
come and bring it to me immediately." Ab-
dalla promiſed every thing, and deſcended
boldly into the vault; but forgetting what
was expreſsly told him, while he was fil-
ling his veft with gold and jewels, the open-
ing, by which he had entered, cloſed of it-
ſelf; he had however preſence of mind enough
to ſeize upon the iron candleſtick, which
the Derviſe had ſo ſtrongly recommended to
bim. After ſearching about a great while,
he was at laſt fortunate enough to find a
narrow opening, covered over with briars :
through which he returned to the light of the
ſun; he looked on all ſides for the Derviſe,
but in vain; he deſigned to deliver him the
iron candleſtick he lo inuch wified for, and
had
abdalla, a Tale.
53
1
had formed a deſign to quit him, being rich
enough with what he had taken out of the
cavern, to live in affluence without his
afliftance.
Not perceiving the Derviſe, he immedia-
tely returned to his mother's houſe, who
enquired after the Derviſe; Abdalla frankly
told her what had happened, and what dan-
ger he had run to ſatisfy his unreaſonable
deſires.
: Dazzled with the luſtre of the treaſure,
they were projecting a thouſand delightful
ſchemes in conſequence of them. When,
to their great amazement, the whole vaniſh
ed away in an inſtant! It was then that Ab-
dalla fincerely reproached himſelf for his in-
gratitude; and perceiving that the iron cand-
Teſtick remained, he reflected upon himſelf
thus: "What has happened to me is juſt, I
have loſt that which I had no deſign to reſto..
re, and the candleſtick which I intended to
return to the Derviſe, remains with me.
At night, without reflecting upon it, he,
placed a light in the candleſtick; immediate-
ly they ſaw a Derviſe appear, who turned
round for an hour, and then diſappeared, after
having thrown them an afpes, a
D 3
Wil-
11
I
Gulliver's Lectures.
54
1
Willing to know the further uſe of this
candleſtick, he placed a light in every one of
the twelve branches, when twelve Derviſes
appeared; and after turning round and danc-
ing an hour, threw twelve aſpers, and dif-
appeared. He repeated every night the fame
ceremony, which had always the ſame fuc-
cefs. This fum formerly would have made
his mother and him happy, but it was not
conſiderable enough to change their fortune,
The light of the riches he believed he ſhould
poffefs, had left ſuch traces in the mind of
Abdalla as nothing could efface: therefore,
finding the finall advantage he drew from
the candleſtick, he reſolved to go and re-
ſtore it to the Derviſe, the town of whoſe
reſidence he happened to remember; hoping
thereby to obtain again the treafure which
had vaniſhed from him.
He was directed to the houſe where the
Derviſe reſided, which had the appearance
of a palace: “Certainly, ſaid he, thoſe of.
whom I have enquired have directed me
wrong, this appears more like the palace of
a king, than the habitation of a Derviſe."
He was in this embaraſment, when a fer-
vant of the houſe approached him, and faid,
“Abdalla, thou art welcome, my maſter
Abou-
Abdalla, a Tale.
55
Abounalder has long expected thee.' He
then conducted him to the Derviſe, to whom
Abdalla preſented the candleſtick. “Thou
art but an ungrateful wretch, ſaid the Der-
viſe, doſt thou imagine thou canſt impoſe
upon me, who know thy inmoft thoughts?
if thou hadſt known the real value of this
candleſtick, thou hadft never brought it to
me; I will make thee ſenſible of its true uſe."
Immediately he placed a light in each of
the branches; and when the twelve Deryi.
fes had turned round for ſome time, he gave
each of them a blow with a cane, wbich
in a moment converted them into twelve
heaps of gold, diamonds, and other pre-
cious ſtones. But to prove that curioſity
only was the motive of his deſiring the cand-
leſtick, he ſhowed Abdalla the immenſe ri-
ches which he already poflefied, being fuf-
ficient to gratify the avarice of the moft in-
fatiable miſer. The regret of having reſtor-
ed the candleſtick, pierced the heart of
Abdalla; but Abounalder, not ſeeming to
perceive it, loaded him with careſſes, and
addreffed him thus: “Abdalla, my fon, I
believe, by what has happened, thou art
corrected of that frightful vice of ingratitu-
de; to.morrow thou mayeſt depart, when
thou
D A
56
Gulliver's Lectures.
thou wilt find at my gate ready to attend
thee, a horſe, a ſlave, and two camels laden
with riches, all which I make thee a pre-
ſent of." Abdalla ſaid to him, all that a
heart ſenſible of avarice could expreſs when
its paſſion was gratified.
Abdalla during the whole night could
think of nothing but the candleſtick. “Abou.
nalder, ſaid he to himſelf, without me he
had never been the poſſeſſor of it; why
ſhould be enjoy this treaſure of treaſures,
becauſe I had the probity or folly to bring
it back to him! He gives me two camels
laden with gold and jewels, when the cand-
leſtick, in one moment, would furniſh me
with ten times as much; it is Abounalder
who is ungrateful; what wrong ſhall I do
him in taking this candleſtick ? certainly
none, for he is rich enough without it in
all conſcience." The thing was not diffi.
cult, he knew where it was placed, aroſe
foon in the morning, and privately bid it in
the bottom of one of the facks, filling it up
with gold and jewels, which he was allow-
ed to take; and loading it with the reſt upon
his camels, he haſtily bid Abounalder adieu,
and departed with his horſe, flave, and two
camels.
When
Abdalla, a. Tale.
57
t
When he was within a few days jour.
ney of Balſora, he fold his ſlave, and hired
another, reſolving not to have any witneſs
of the ſource of his riches. He arrived
without any obſtacle at his mother's, whom
he would ſcarce look upon, fo much was
he taken up with the treaſure. His firſt
care was to place the loads of his camels
with the candleſtick, in the moſt private
room in the houſe, and in his impatience to
feed his eyes with his great opulence, he
placed lights in his candlefticks; the twelve
Derviſes appearing, he gave each of them a
blow with his cane with all his ſtrength,
left he ſhould be failing in the laws of the
Taliſman; but he had not remarked, that
Abounalder, when he ſtruck them, had the
cane in his left hand; Abdalla, by a natu-
ral motion, made uſe of his right; and the
Derviſes, inſtead of becoming heaps of ri.
ches, as he expected, immediately drew
from beneath their robes each a formidable
club, with which they beat him ſo unmer-
cifully, that they left him almoſt dead, and,
diſappearing, carried with them all his trea-
fure, the camels, the flave, the horſe, and
the candleſtick.
D 5
Thus
53
Gulliver's Lectures.
Thus was Abdalla puniſhed by poverty,
and almoſt by death, for his unreaſonable
ambition, accompanied by an ingratitude, as
wicked as it was audacious.
As this ſtory ſhows us how great is the
folly of ingratitude and avarice, I ſhall pre-
ſent you with a ſhort account of a Roman
lady, who placed her affections on jewels,
of a kind very different from thoſe admired
by ayaricious perſons.
CORNELIA, a Roman lady of exempla-
ry virtue, was left a widow with twelve
children, only three of the twelve arrived
to the years of maturity; one daughter,
whom ſhe married to the ſecond Scipio Afri.
canus, and two ſons whom ſhe ſo careful-
ly inſtructed, that though born with the
moſt happy geniufles and diſpoſitions, it
was judged that they were ſtill more indebt-
ed to education than nature: A Campanian
Lady who was very rich, and ſtill fonder
of pomp and ſhow, in a viſit to Cornelia,
having diſplayed her diamonds, pearls, and
richeſt jewels, earneſtly deſired Cornelia to
let her fee her jewels alfo. This amiable
lady diverted the converſation to another
ſubject, till the return of her fons from the
publick
The virtuous Mother,
52
publick ſchool. When they entered their
mother's apartments, ſhe ſaid to her viſitor,
pointing to them, Theſe are my jewels,
and the only ornaments I admire; and ſuch
ornaments, which are the ſtrengtb and ſup-
port of ſociety, add a brighter luftre to
the fair, than all the jewels of the Eaſt.
This anſwer includes in it great inſtruc
tions for ladies and mothers.
LECTURE IV.
I HAVE hitherto, my little pupils, preſent-
ed you with only fairy tales: I will now
read to you a piece of facred hiſtory, that of
Joſeph and his Brethren, to which, I doubt
not, you will all be properly attentive.
The patriarch Jacob had twelve fons; but
Joſeph and Benjamin were his peculiar fa-
vourites. The former having always the
ear of his indulgent father, and telling hin
feveral officious ſtories which, in all probabi.
lity were too true, to the diſadvantage of
his brothers, he became the object of their
fcorn and mortal hatred: but what was ſtill
a higher aggravation, he openly, and perhaps
with
60
. Gulliver's Lectures.
with a ſecret pride too, related to them two
particular dreams of his own, which por-
tended his future advancement, and their
bowing the knee before him.
Upon this, in the height of their reſent-
ment, they determined to deſtroy him. But
when Rheuben, one of his brothers, heard
it, he delivered him out of their hands; and,
that be might carry him again to his father,
faid, Shed no blood, but caſt him into the
pit. They then ſtripped him of his coat
of many colours, and caſt him into the pit,
and ſat down to eat bread.
As they were thus regaling themſelves, and
triumphing over their poor brother's misfortu
pes, a company of merchants advanced to-
wards them; and they ran inſtantly to the pit,
drew up Joſeph, and fold him for twenty pie.
ces of ſilver. When Rheuben, who had left
them, returned unto the pit, and ſaw that Jo-
feph was not there, he rent his clothes, and
returned unto his brethren, and faid, The
child is not, and I, whither ſhall I go.?
As the merchants were going from Gilead
to Egypt, they carried Joſeph with them
directly to court; where they foon difpof-
ed of him, at an advanced price, to Potis
phar, a captain of Pharoah's guards.
No
Joſeph and his Brethren. 6)
No ſooner was the lad out of fight; but
his brethren formed a ſcheme to conceal their
guilt, and delude their poor aged father. Ac-
cordingly, they killed a kid, and, having
dipped Joſeph's coat into the blood, they
carried it directly home to Iacob, infinuata
ing, with hypocritical tears in their eyes,
that ſome wild beaſt had devoured his little
darling, and left only his bloody garment.
Jacob, upon this melancholy fight, not
ſuſpecting any fallacy, but concluding that
Jofeph was torn to pieces, burſt into a flood
of tears, and would not be comforted. In
the mean time, Potiphar, obſerving that
the lad whom he had purchaſed was indu:
ftrious to the laſt degree, and that all things
proſpered which he took in hand, made him
ſteward over all his houſehold.
Now Jofeph being a very comely youth;
his miſtreſs was ſo charmed with his perſon,
that ſhe uſed all the arts of fond perſuaſion
to lure him to her bed; but he turned a deaf
ear to her wicked intreaties. Upon this
unexpected coldneſs, her love foon turned
to hatred, and ſhe warmly accuſed him be:
fore her huſband of indecency, and impro-
per behaviour to her. Potiphar being too
eaſy and credulous, reſented the indignity,
and
62
Gulliver's Lectures.
and without further enquiry, caſt his ſlave
into the king's priſon.
Joſeph had not been long confined there,
before he gave ſuch undeniable evidences of
his virtue and wiſdom, that the keeper prov-
ed as indulgent to him as Potiphar had been
before. He had a peculiar talent at inter-
preting dreams; and it came to paſs, in
proceſs of time, that Pharoah himfelf had
two that were very remarkable, and gave
him no ſmall uneaſineſs: the one, that ſeven
fat kine came out of the river, and grazed
in an adjacent meadow, and ſeven lean kine
followed and immediately devoured them:
the other, that ſeven full ears of corn ſhot
out upon one ſtem, and ſeven thin ears that
very inſtant ſprang up and deſtroyed them.
Now, though Pharoah ſent for all his learn.
ed magicians to interpret theſe perplexing
dreams, no one was found capable of giv-
ing him the leaſt fatisfaction, till Jofeph was
brought out of priſon.
No ſooner was the dream repeated, but
Jofeph, without the leaſt heſitation, affured
Pharoah, that the ſeven fat kine, and the
ſeven full ears of corn, denoted ſeven years
of plenty; and the ſeven lean kine, and the
ſeven thin ears, in like manner, fignified
feyen
Foſepb and his Brethren. 63
ſeven years of famine: and thereupon be
adviſed the king to fill all his ſtorehouſes
with corn during the firſt ſeven years; by
which means he might gain immenſe ſums
of money, by ſelling it again to his people
at the approach of the famine.
This ſcheme was highly approved of, and
put into execution accordingly; and as every
thing came to paſs as Joſeph had foretold,
he was made fteward immediately of all the
king's houſehold, and chief manager under
the king over all the land of Egypt.
And it came to paſs, that the famine ex-
tended as far as the land of Canaan, where
Jacob lived; who, wanting the common ne-
ceflaries of life, fent all his fons, except Ben-
jamin, down to Egypt to buy corn for his
ſubfiftence. Now Jofeph ſaw his brethren
and knew them, but made himſelf ſtrange;
and ſpeaking roughly to them, faid, Whence
came you? And they faid, From the land
of Canaan to buy food. But Joſeph accuſed
them of being ſpies, and told them, that they
were come to ſee the packedneſs of the
land. And they anſwered, We are no ſpies;
but thy ſervants are twelve brethren, the
fons of one man, in the land of Canaan;
and behold the youngeſt is this day with our
father,
6t
Gulliver's Lecturer.
father, and the other is riot. "It is well,
faid Jofeph and hereby you ſhall be proved;
for, by the life of Pharoah, ye ſhall not go
hence unleſs your younger brother come
unto me. Send one of you, and let him
fetch your brother, and ye ſhall be kept in
priſon, that your words may be proved.”
And he ſhut them ap for three days; and on
the third day, he ſaid unto them, This do
and live, for I fear God. If you be true
men, let one of your brethren be bound in
the houſe of our priſon: and go ye, carry
corn to your father, but bring your brother
to me, that your words may be verified, ,
and ye ſhall not die. In this diſtreſs, they
reflected on their ill treatment of Joſeph,
and ſaid, Surely for his fake is this evil
come upon us.
And Rheuben upbraided
them, ſaying, I ſpoke to you not to hurt the
child, and you Ivould not hear me: and
szob behold his blood is come upon us.
All
this was fpoken in the preſence of Joſeph,
but they knew not that he underſtood them,
for he converſed with them by an in-
terpreter. Jofeph turned from them and
wept; and returning again, took Simeon,
and bound him before their eyes. Then he
commanded their facks to be filled with corn,
and
Foſeph and his Brethren.
65
and gave fecret orders to put each man's
money in his fack. Now, when they were
departed, one of them opening bis fack to
give his aſs provender, eſpied the money,
and ſhowed it to his brethren; and they
were fore afraid, and faid one to another,
Why has this evil happened to us? And they
came to Jacob, and told him all that had
befallen them; and that the lord of the coun.
try had demanded their brother Benjamin.
And Jacob, their father, was forrowful, and
faid, “Me have ye bereft of my children;
Jofeph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye
will take Benjamin alſo." And Rheuben and
Judab comforted their father, and promiſed
to reſtore Benjamin, if committed to their
So Jacob diſmiſſed them with a pre-
ſent to the lord of the country, and double
money in their facks. Now, when Joſeph
faw Benjamin, he ſaid to the ruler of the
houſe, “Bring theſe men bome, ſlay and
make ready, for they ſhall dine with me at
. And his brethren were afraid, be.
cauſe they were brought into the houſe.
Howbeit, Simeon their brother was brought
out unto them, and they were kindly re-
ceived. As ſoon as Joſeph came in, they
brought him their preſents, and made obei-
i VOL. I.
E
fance
care,
66
Gulliver's Lectures,
ſance to him.. When Joſeph, however, faw
his brother Benjamin, he could not contain
himſelf, but retired and wept. Howbeit,
at dinner he waſhed his face, and returned
to them again. And he took and ſet meſſes
before each of them, but Benjamin's meſs
was five times as big as the reſt. And he
commanded his ſteward to fill their facks
with corn, and put each man's money into
his fack, and his filver cup into the fack be.
longing to Benjamin. Now when they
were got out of the city, he ſent a meſſen-
ger after them, who accuſed them with
ftealing the cup. But they ſaid, “We have
neither taken gold nor filver from my lord.
Search each man's fack, and with whom
it is found, let him die, and we will be
bondſmen for ever.” And tbe cup was found
in Benjamin's fack. And they rent their
clothes, and returned to the city. And Ju-
dah and his brethren came to Joſeph's houſe,
and fell before him to the ground. And
Joſeph ſaid; “What deed is this that ye ba-
ve done? Did not you know that I could
divine?” And Judah faid, „What ſhall we
ſay unto my Lord, or how ſhall we clear
ourſelves? God has found out the iniquity
of thy feryants; and we are thy bond flaves."
But
Foſeph and his Brethren.
67
But Jofeph anſwered, “God forbid! The
man with whom the cup is found ſhall be
ſecured, but get you up in peace to your
father. »
And Judah came near, and ſaid,
“O my Lord, let thy fervant, I pray thee,
ſpeak a word in my Lord's ears, and be not
angry: for thou art even as Pharoah. When
thou didft command thy ſervants to bring
this our brother down, we could not pre-
vail with our father to part with him; for
he ſaid, My fon Jofeph is torn in pieces al-
ready, and Benjamin will periſh alſo. If
ye take him from me, and miſchief ſhould
befal him, ye will bring down my grey
hairs with ſorrow to the grave. Now the.
refore, when I come to my father, and the
lad is not with me, he will ſurely die. Thy
fervant became a ſurety for the lad, ſaying,
If I bring him not unto thee again, then I
will bear the blame for ever.
thee let thy fervant be a bondſman inſtead
of the lad, and ſend him up with his bre-
thren; for how can I go up to my father,
and ſee the evil that will befal him?” At
this Jofeph could no longer refrain, but or-
dered every man to go out of the room, be-
fore he made himſelf known to his brethrep.
And he wept aloud, and ſaid. “I am Jo-
feph
So I pray
E 2
68
Gulliver's Lectures.
ſeph your brother. Doth my father yet
live?” And his brethren could not anſwer
him, for they were troubled at his preſence.
And he faid unto them, “Come near, I pray
you;" and they came near. And he faid,
"I ain Joſeph your brother, whom you fold
into Egypt. Now therefore be not grieved,
nor angry with yourſelves, that ye fold me
bither; for God did ſend me before you to
preſerve life: So it was not ye that ſend
me, but the Almighty. Hafte ye, and go
to my father, and ſay unto him, Thus faith
thy ſon Jofeph. God hath made me lord
of all Egypt; come down unto me, tarry
not: and thou ſhalt dwell in the land of
Goſhen; and there will I nouriſh thee, left
thou and thy houſehold come to poverty;
for there will yet be five years of famine.
Behold your eyes ſee, and the eyes of my
brother Benjamin, that it is my mouth that
ſpeaketh unto you. Tell my father all my
glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have ſeen;
and ye ſhall hafte and bring down my fa-
ther bither."
And he fell upon his brother
Benjamin's neck and wept, and Benjamin
wept upon his neck. Moreover, he killed all
his brethren, and wept upon them, an after
that his brethren talked with him freely.
This
Joſeph and his Brethren.
69
This pathetic interview came to the ears
of Pharoah, who ordered Joſeph to ſend wag.
goes out of the land of Egypt to bring down
his father; and Jofeph did fo, and gave
them proviſion for the way. And to each
man he gave alſo changes of raiment; but
to Benjamin he gave 300 pieces of filver,
and five changes of raiment. And he fent
his father twenty affes laden with the good
things of the land.
But when they came
to their father, and told him, faying, “Jo-
feph is yet alive, and is governor over all
the land of Egypt,” Jacob's heart fainted,
for he believed them not; and when they
told him the words of Joſeph, and he ſaw
the waggons that were ſent to carry him
down, the ſpirit of Jacob revived, and he
faid, “It is enough, Joſeph my ſon is yet
alive; I will go and ſee him before I die.”
So Jacob made ready to go down into Egypt,
and Joſeph prepared his chariot to meet him,
and preſented himſelf to his father; and he
fell on his neck, and wept greatly; and Iſrael
faid unto Joſeph, “Now let me die; ſince
have ſeen thy face, and thou art yet alive,
0 my fon!”
In this piece of ſacred hiſtory you ſee, that
God frequently produces good from evil.
E 3
You
70
Gulliver's Lectures,
You ſhould from hence learn patiently to bear
wita the evils he is pleaſed to infli&t on you,
ſince you know not but it may in the end
prove for your good. The folly of Joſeph's
brethren led them to ſuppoſe that their
treachery would never be diſcovered; but no-
thing can be done ſo ſecret as to be conceal.
ed from the eyes of God: he ſees every
thing, and will not fail, ſome time or other,
to expoſe every hidden and wicked action
to light.
LECTURE V.
I SHALL for this Lecture, my little pupils
,
give you an account of a very ancient fa-
mily, who brought up their children in the
beft manner; that is, ſo as to make them
all beloved and reſpected. It was written by
a very worthy gentleman, ſome time fince
dead; and, as he was maſter of the Lillipu-
tian language, I ſhall deliver it to you, in his
own words, without further preamble.
I was one morning paying a viſit to Mr.
Simpſon, and talking over the affairs of the
nation, when Mrs. Simpſon came in, in a
hurry
Valentine's Day,
71
“I wiſh you
hurry, and looking earneſtly at her huſband,
“Bleſs me, ſaid ſhe, what are become of our
children? How long they lie in bed this,
morning! They little think, poor things,
that it is Valentine's Day. Go, Sarah , and
call them up immediately.” “I wiſh
would let them lie, my dear, ſays Mr. Simp-
fon, and not ſtuff their heads with ſucht:
nopſenſe.” “Don't tell me,
“Don't tell me, huſband, an.
fwered fhe, with ſome emotion, as my wi.
fe or any other man's wife might do, I don't
think it is nonſenſe; I like theſe old cuftoms,
and would have them kept up. “I ſhould
like them too, ſays Mr. Simpſon, if they
were uſed according to their original inten.
tion." Pray, what was their original inten:
tion, ſays Mrs. Simpſon, I ſhould be glad
to know?” “Why then, I will tell you,
my dear, ſays he, but firſt call down the
children; for, perhaps, they may learn fo-
mething from what I am about to ſay."
Upon this Mrs. Simpſon ran up ſtairs herſelf,
and foon brought down with her, Dicky
and Tommy, and Sally and Polly.
“My dear children, ſays Mrs. Simpſon,
how long you have lain in bed this morn-
ing; you little think that it is Valentine's
Day, and that they are all expecting you
E 4
at
72
Gulliver's LeEtures.
at Mr. Salmon's, Mr. Thomſon's, and Mr.
Smith's." "Mama, ſhall I have a knot?”
ſays Sally,--"I'll have a red knot,” ſays
Tommy,"I'll have gloves, mama, ſays
Dicky-"And I'll have money," ſays the
little one.
“You ſee, my dear; fays Mr. Simpſon,
that this good old inſtitution gives place now
to nothing but frippery: whereas for many
centuries it anſwered a moſt valuable purpo-
ſe in life.” Mrs. Simpſon again deſired to
know, what that was, ſtill ſtroking the
child's hair, and preparing her for her jour-
ney. "Why, ſays he, if you have read the
Hiſtory of the Apoſtles, Evangeliſts, and
firſt Fathers of the Church; you will find,
that the Chriſtians in thoſe days, had all
things in common among them, and that
they had frequent meetings, called Love-feaſts,
in which all the aſſembly, gentle and ſimple,
poor and rich, fat down together; and after
the repaſt was over, they enquired into the
Rate of the poor in different parts of the
world, went to prayers, fung pſalms, and
by religious diſcourſes, ſtrengthened each
other in the faith. About the third century,
St. Valentine, a pious good man, feeing the
benefit that aroſe to Society., from theſe
frequent
Valentine's Day.
73
frequent meetings; for all vicious inclinations,
paſſions, and turbulence, were ſet aſide be.
fore they could enter the community; intro-
duced, as we are told, another practice
among the Chriſtians, which was that of
chooſing a Valentine for the year; and, in
order to prevent diſputes in the choice, the
two perfons, man and woman, that firſt ſaw
each other were Valentines, if they were
Chriſtians, and of good character; and the
buſineſs of theſe Valentines was to watch
over each other's conduct, and to admoniſh
each other freely, when any thing was ſaid
or done amiſs. “This, ſays Mrs. Simpſon,
might be ſerviceable to the common people;
but how would the great ones bear it from
the poor, and eſpecially from their own fer.
vants, which might ſometimes be the caſe?”
"No, ſays Mr. Simpſon, they could not have
a Valentine who was one of their own fa-
mily, and therefore that was avoided. But
I'll tell you a ſtory, my dear:
The king of Blanco, who was a pious good
man, died, and left his kingdom to be go-
verned by Iſabella, his daughter, an only
child; but ſhe was not of the fame amiable
diſpoſition with her father. The good old
king had magnificence and
niagnificence and geconomy,
,
E 5
without
74
Gulliver's Lecturer.
without either pride or covetouſneſs; but his
daughter had both in abundance; beſides
which, ſhe was too fond of a man, whom
ſhe had made her prime miniſter, and ne-
glected all thoſe good rules, which were
encouraged and practiſed by the Chriſtians in
thoſe days.
It happened one Valentine's day in the
morning, that not being very well, ſhe aro-
ſe earlier than uſual, and going into an apart-
ment of the palace which was repairing, the
ſaw a mafon, in conſequence of which he
was her Valentine for that year, and ſhe his,
which was very diſagreeable to a princeſs
of her pride and indiſcretion. The maſon,
however, was never wanting in his duty,
and informed her of all he ſaw or heard amifs,
either in her conduct, or in the ſtate; and,
among other things, he ſeveral times put her
on her guard againſt the prime miniſter, who
was a wicked man, and always plotting her
ruin.
Theſe admonitions ſhe was obliged to hear,
as he was her Valentine; yet ſhe generally
laughed both at him and them; but one day,
he having got intelligence, that an inſurrec-
tion was intended, and that ſhe was to be
murthered in the confuſion: he came to her,
and
Valentine's Day.
75
à
and told her, if ſhe would liſten to him for
ten minutes, he would never trouble her
any
more. The princeſs confented, and he dif-
cloſed to her the whole affair; and that ſhe
might be thoroughly convinced, placed her
concealed in a part of the wainſcot next her
prime miniſter's apartment, where ſhe heard,
and ſaw through a ſmall hole, her two prin-
cipal favourites canvaſs the whole affair,
agree on the manner of her murther, and
to a diſtribution of her riches and power be.
tween themſelves.
She now thought herſelf happy in having
Valentine, who would favour her eſcape.
The great difficulty was to get her out of
the palace privately and unhurt, and this he
accompliſhed by dreſſing her up in a ſuit of
his own clothes, with which, having on
a leathern apron, a baſket of tools, and being
diſguiſed about the hands and face, the paf-
fed with him as an apprentice.
Before ſhe put on this diſguiſe, under
pretence of being ill, ſhe told her attendants
ſhe would go to bed, and ordered them not
to come into her apartment. To prevent
which, fhe, as they imagined, locked her-
ſelf in; but ſhe had only placed an image
of wax-work in the bed, and then locked
the
76
Gulliver's Lectures.
the door; and made her eſcape in the man.
ner already mentioned.
About midnight the rioters broke into the
royal apartment, and not doubting, but
that it was the princeſs in bed, rolled up
the clothes, and tied them to ſmother her,
and then threw the whole into a river that
ran by the caſtle wall.
As thoſe who occaſion a riot are the beſt
able to quell it, ſo her two wicked mini-
ſters ſoon quelled the tumult, and then erect,
ed a building, or kind of ſtage, in the prin-
cipal ſtreet, and called the elders and the
people of the city to bemoan the loſs of the
late queen, and to elect another monarch to
the throne.
Every body was ſorry for the poor queen,
and none ſeemed more ſo than the two wret-
ches who had conſpired againſt her; they
indeed blubbered upon the ſtage, when the
Valentine aſcended, and deſired permiſſion
to ſpeak to the people. When he had ob-
tained leave; he told the citizens, that this
infurrection was begun by two men, in
whom the princeſs had placed the utmoſt
confidence, and who now ſeemed the moſt
ſorry for her misfortune; whereas they were
the
Valentine's Day
77
the very men who wanted to take her off,
in order to ſhare the crown and power be-
tween themſelves. He alſo added, that he
by accident overheard them conſult this fche-
me, of which he informed the princeſs, af-
fifted her to make her eſcape, and that ſhe
was now alive. At this the people gave
a great ſhout; but the two courtiers who
were accuſed, faid, that the man was rav-
ing, and his word ought not to be taken.
"Say you lo, fais he, then I will call up an
evidence you will ſhudder at;” when bec-
koning with his finger, 'a perſon, accouter-
ed in a maſon's dreſs, ran up the ſtage,
whom he preſented to the people, and ſaid,
“Lo! brother citizens, here is your queen
whom I have preſerved in this diſguiſe;" and
turning to the traitors, “Here, villains, ſaid
he, is your royal miſtreſs, whom you in.
tended to murther." The joy this occafion-
ed was too great to be expreſſed, but, like
other violent emotions, was but of ſhort
duration, for after they had demonſtrated
their affection to their princeſs, rage and in-
dignation took place againſt the criminals,
who were puniſhed according to their deierts.
What that puniſhment was, hiſtory does not
ſay; for indeed the whole ſtory was pre-
ſerved
78
Gulliver's Lectures.
ſerved only to ſhow the great benefit of
having a good Valentine.
"Well, fays Mrs. Simpſon, this is extra-
ordinary indeed, but it is what I never
heard before.” “That may be, anſwered
her huſband, for I tell you, the original in-
tention and benefit of this cuſtom has been
long neglected for frippery and nonſenſe.
But if it could be of uſe to one of ſuch an
exalted ſtation as a princeſs, how beneficial
muft it be to private perſons ?”
“You know Mr. Worthy, my dear, and
ſo do the children too: it is the gentleman
that came in his fine coach, and brought
you the pretty little books. He was once
a very naughty boy, and nobody loved him:
yet now he is become a very polite fine
gentleman, and is admired by every body;
and I will tell you how this wonderful chan-
ge was brought about:
As he on a Valentine's morning went by
Sir Richard Lovewell's crying to ſchool, for
he did not love his book, Lady Lucy hap-
pened to look out and ſee him; Dear me,
ſays ſhe, to her maid, I have got a ſnivel.
ling Valentine this morning ; but, however,
riin down ſtairs, and call bim in, and let
me
Valentine's Day.
79
me fee what I can make of him. When he
came in, ſhe pulled out her handkerchief,
and wiping bis blubbered face, aſked him,
what he cried for? He ſaid, they made him
go to ſchool, and he did not like to go to
ſchool. Oh, ſays ſhe, that is ſtrange, in-
deed! Come, you are my Valentine now,
and we muſt talk this matter over together;
but I am ſorry to hear you don't love your
book; give me your fatchel, and let me
ſee what books you have. Then taking him
into a cloſet, where a number of little books
lay in a window; well, ſays ſhe, ſee what
books I have got. Bleſs me! ſays the lit-
tle boy, I ſhould like ſuch books as theſe.
Here is maſter Friendly carried in the chair;
here is miſs Friendly in the lord mayor's
coach; here is Mrs. Two-and-again, and La-
zy Robin, and the Houſe that Jack built!
Oh! ma'am, and here is Mrs. Williams and
the Plumb-cake, Trade and Plumb-cake for
ever? huzza! Oh dear!, dear! and here is
Woglog and Tommy Trip upon Joler, and
Leo the great Lion, and Miſs Biddy John-
fon, and Jemmy Gadabout, and Miſs Polly
Meanwell, and Mr. Little Wit's Cock.Robin,
and the Family of the Little Wits is a lar.
ge Family. Oh dear! ma'am, and here is
the
80
Gulliver's Lectures,
the Cuz in his Cap with his Chorus, Ba, be,
bi: and ma'am, here is Leap-frog.
Hold, hold, where are you going, ſays
the lady; come, I wont have my books
tumbled over in this manner; but if you will
promiſe me to be a good boy, you ſhall
begin with the firſt of them, and carry away
as many as you can read. What! put them
in my pocket, ma’am? ſays be. · Yes, in
your pocket, anſwered the lady. And keep
them, ma’am? ſays he. Yes, and keep
them, anſwered ſhe. Then, ſays he, I will
read all day long, ma'am, fhall I ma'am?
Yes, fir, and welcome, faid the lady. So
to it he went, and before dinner he fairly
read three or four of them. As dinner was
late, ſhe ordered him a diſh of chocolate,
but he could not ſpare time to drink it,
nor would he fit down to table without a
couple of books by him. Upon which, Mr.
Johnſon, who was there at dinner, aſked,
what good little boy that was, who was
fo fond of his book? This, fir, ſays ſhe,
is Maſter Worthy, and my Valentine. Dick
Worthy! ſays he, why he is the dulleſt boo.
by in town; he goes by my houſe crying
to ſchool every day, and I am told, can-
not learn any thing. Not in thoſe dirty dull
books,
!
Valentine's Day.
SE
books, anſwered the boy; but I can learn
any thing in ſuch nice little pretty books as
theſe. Ay, ay, ſays Lady Lucy; we ſhall
do very well; and before he has been my
Valentine a year, he ſhall read with you for
your ſpectacles, Mr. Johnfon, and all the
money in your pocket into the bargain. So
I will, ma'am, ſays Dick; but in ſtarting up
haſtily, threw a glaſs off the table, and broke
it, which much diſconcerted himCome,
don't mind that, ſays Lady Lucy, it is an
accident, and I am not angry with you.
After dinner he ſet to reading again, and
fairly carried off two other books before the
ſervant came for him, and then he whiſper-
ed Lady Lucy, to know if he might come
and read again to-morrow. Yes, my dear,
ſays ſhe, every day, if you are good, till
you have fairly taken all thoſe books away;
but before you go, here is another book I
muſt make you acquainted with; and then
pulling one out of her pocket, which was
bound in red, and lettered on the back,
The Valentine's Ledger, ſhe opened it, and,
wrote on the firſt leaf, Maſter Worthy, my
Valentine, Debtor; and on the oppoſite leaf
the wrote, The ſame Gentleman, Creditor:
Now, ſays the, as you are my Valentine,
VOL. I.
F
you
82
Gulliver's Lectures.
you muſt be honeſt and true to me, and tell
me every day all the faults you have been
guilty of, and all the good things you have
done, that I may put down the faults on
the left hand, and the good actions on the
right, to ſee how they balance at the end
of the week; and pray don't tell nie a lie,
for you know it is very wicked to ſay what
is not true; and of all things I hate a liar.
Indeed, ma'am, ſays he, I will be very
good, and tell you all the truth. Then, ſays
ſhe, we will begin to-day, and pray tell me
what naughty things you have done. I
cried, ſays he, as I was going to ſchool.
Yes, ſays Lady Lucy, but that was before
you was my Valentine, therefore I can take
no account of that. Then, ſays he, I broke
the glaſs, ma'am. Yes, my dear, ſays ſhe,
but that was an accident, and you could not
help it; had you intended to break the glaſs,
or not have moved it out of the way if I
had bid you, I ſhould have charged you
with it; but as it ſtands now, it is an ac-
cident, and no fault: then taking her pen,
ſhe wrote on the creditor's ſide, A good boy
all day long
There, my dear, ſays ſhe, I have given
you credit for being a good boy all day, and
there
Valentine's Day. 83
there is nothing on the other ſide againſt you.
Now, I wiſh we could always carry on our
account in this manner. So we will, ma'am,
ſays he; but he was foon after miſtaken
for being in Sir William Tippin's garden, and
throwing his ball up againſt the houſe, the
gardener forbid him, and told him, by and
by he would break the windows; but not
minding what the gardener faid, he ſtill kept
throwing up his ball, till at laſt it flew in
at a faſh that was open, and broke a large
looking glaſs. As the gardener did not ſee
it, he went away, and ſaid nothing; but
hearing Sir William, when he came home,
call to his ſervant, and charge him with
breaking his glaſs, and threaten to diſmiſs
him his ſervice, he went away immediate
ly to his Valentine, and told her what had
happened, that it might be entered in the
book; and then begged ſhe would go to Sir
William, and carry him all the money he
had, and not let the ſervant be turned away
upon his account, for that would be very
wicked. Ay, ſo it would, my dear, ſays
The, you are a good boy for coming ſo read.
ily to me about it, and I will go to Sir
William, and make it up, and you ſhall go
with me; for I dare ſay, when he ſees how
well
}
F2
84 Gulliver's Lectures.
well our account ſtands, and knows how
good you have been, ſince you became my
Valentine, he will not be angry. So tak,
ing the Valentine's Ledger in her hand, away
they marched. As ſoon as they came to
the houſe, Lady Lucy ſent in her compli.
ments to Sir William, and deſired to ſpeak
with him; and begged alſo, that his lady
might be preſent at the time of their conver.
ſation. They were immediately fhown into
a parlour, in which were Sir William, La-
dy Tippin, and his ſiſter. Chairs were plac.
ed, but Lady Lucy refuſed to ſit down,
telling the company, that ſhe and her little
friend came there as delinquents. We have
been ſo unhappy, Sir William, ſays ſhe,
as to do you an injury, which we could
conceal, and the fault might be thrown upon
others; but that would be making the crime
greater, and offending God Almighty, who
ſees and knows all our actions and deſigns;
we therefore are come generouſly to ac-
knowledge the injury before it is diſcovered,
and to make all the reſtitution and ſatisfaction
we are able. There has been a glaſs broke,
Sir William. Ay, the beſt glaſs in my ſtudy,
ſays he, with fome emotion. That I don't
doubt, ſays Lady Lucy; that glaſs was broke
by
1
Valentine's Day. 83
by a ball, which accidentally flew in at your
window; the ball was ours, and we have
a great loſs in it. Yes, but the ball will
not buy me a glaſs, ſays Sir William. Very
true, anſwered the lady, but the ball is as
dear to us as the glaſs is to you; and as
we don't repine at our misfortune, we hope
you will think the leſs of yours: look ye,
Sir William, this young gentleman is my
Valentine, and a better there is not in town,
as you may ſee by this account; opening
the Ledger, now this is the only fault he is
chargeable with for almoſt two months;
and during that time you will find there
is credit for ſo many good days, and he
has gained, by the dint of his learning,
all my little books; now he has been fo
unfortunate, by accidentally throwing his
ball in at your ſtudy window, to break.
a glaſs; which fault, we hear, has been,
charged to one of your ſervants; we çana
not bear our faults ſhould be laid upon others,
or that you ſhould be injured in your pro.
perty, without an adequate ſecurity and
ſatisfaction: therefore, fir, my Valentine
offers you all this money, which is nine.
pence, and his whole ſtock, he is come to
give you band for the remainder, and he
F 3
agrees
86
Gulliver's Lectures,
agrees that you ſhall keep the ball for a colla.
teral ſecurity."
The company could not help laughing,
and Sir William freely forgave the little of.
fender, on his promiſe to be more careful
for the future in the uſe of his ball. The
Lady, and Maſter Worthy returned home,
highly fatisfied with the ſucceſs of their
negociation, and from that day, while a boy,
he never had any occaſion to enter one cri-
me of conſequence in his Ledger. It were
greatly to be wiſhed, that every adult could
with truth fay as much.
L E C T U RE VI.
I SHALL
finiſh this volume of my lectures
with the Hiſtory of Rhynfault, the unjuſt
Governor. It is a true ſtory, and contains
an example of the juſtice of heaven againſt
wicked actions; but, as I mean to add ſome
reflections at the end, I ſhall proceed to de
liver it to you.
WHEN Charles Duke of Burgundy, fir-
named The Bold, reigned over ſpacious do-
minions, now ſwallowed up by the power
of
!
The unjuſt Governor.
87
of France, he heaped many favours and ho.
nours upon Claudius Rhynſault, a German,
who ſerved him in his wars againſt the ia-
folts of his neighbours. A great part of
Zealand was at that time in ſubjection to that
dukedom, The prince himſelf was a perſon
of fingular humanity and juſtice. Rhynſaule,
with no other real quality than courage, had
diſſimulation enough to paſs upon his gene-
rous and unfufpicious maſter for a perſon of
blunt honeſty and fidelity, without any vice
that could biaſs him from the execution of
juſtice. His highneſs prepoffefled to his ad.
vantage, upon the deceaſe of the governor
of his chief town of Zealand, gave Rhyn.
fault that command. He was not long feat
ed in that government, before he caſt his
eyes upon Sapphira, a woman of exquiſite
beauty, the wife of Paul Danvelt, a, weal.
thy merchant of the city under his protec-
tion and government. Rhynſault was a man
of a warm conftitution, and a violent incli-
nation to women, and not unſkilled in the
foft arts which win their favour. He know
what it was to enjoy the ſatisfactions which
are reaped from the paſſions of beauty, but
was an utter ſtranger to the decencies, ho-
nours, and delicacies that attend the paſſion
F 4
towards
38
: Gulliver's Lectures.
towards them in elegant minds. However,
he knew fo much of the world, that he had
a great ſhare of the language which ufually
prevails upon the weaker part of that ſex,
and he could with his tongue utter a paſſion
with which his heart was wholly untouched.
He was one of thoſe brutal minds which can
be gratified with the violation of innocence
and beauty, without the leaſt pity, paſſion,
or love, to that with which they are ſo much
delighted. Ingratitude is a vice inſeparable
to a wicked man; and the poſſeſſion of a
woman by him, who has no thought but al-
laying a paſſion painful to himſelf, is necef-
ſarily followed by a diſtaſte and averſion.
Rhynfault being reſolved to accompliſh his
will on the wife of Danvelt, left no arts
untried to get into a familiarity at her hou-
fe; but ſhe knew his character and diſpoſi-
tion too well not to ſhun all occaſions that
might enſnare her into his converſation. The
governor, deſpairing of ſucceſs by ordinary
means, apprehended and impriſoned her huf-
band, under pretence of an information that
he was guilty of a correſpondence with the
enemies of the duke, to betray the town
into their poffeffion. This deſign had its
deſired effect, and the wife of the unfortu.
nate
1
:
The unjuſt Governor.
89
nate Danvelt, the day before that which wag
appointed for his execution, preſented her:
ſelf in the hall of the governor's houſe; and,
as he paſſed through the apartment, threw
herſelf at his feet, and holding his knees,
beſeeched his mercy. Rhynſault beheld her
with a difſembled fatisfaction, and aſſuming
an air of thought and authority, he bid her
ariſe, and told her, ſhe muſt follow him to
his cloſet; and aſking her, whether the
knew the hand of the letter he pulled out
of his pocket, went from her, leaving this
admonition aloud; If you will ſave your houf-
band, you muſt give me an account of all
you know without prevarication; for every
body is ſatisfied he was too fond of you to
be able to hide from you the names of the
reſt of the conſpirators, or any other parti.
culars whatſoever. He went to his cloſet,
and foon after the lady was ſent for to an
audience. The ſervant knew his diſtance
when matters of ſtate were to be debated;
and the governor, laying aſide the air with
which he had appeared in publick, began
to be the ſupplicant, to rally his affliction,
which it was in her power eaſily to remo-
ve, and relieve an innocent man from his
impriſonment. She eaſily perceived his in-
F 5
tention,
go
Gulliver's Lectures.
tention, and, bathed in tears, began to de.
precate ſo wicked a deſign. Luſt, like am.
bition, takes all the faculties of the mind
and body into its ſervice and ſubjection,
Her becoming tears, her honeſt anguiſh,
the wringing of her hands, and the many
changes of her poſture and figure in the
vehemence of ſpeaking, were but ſo many
attitudes in which he beheld her beauty, and
further incentives of his defire: all humani.
ty was loſt in that one appetite, and he fi-
gnified to her in ſo many plain terms, that
he was unhappy till he had poſſeſſed her, and
nothing leſs ſhould be the price of her huf-
band's life; and ſhe muſt, before the follow.
ing noon, pronounce the death or enlarge-
ment of Danvelt. After this notification,
when he ſaw Sapphira again enough diſtract.
ed to make the ſubject of their diſcourſe to
.common eyes appear different from what it
was, he called ſervants to conduct her to the
gate.
Laden with inſupportable affliction,
ſhe immediately repairs to her huſband, and
having ſignified to his jailors, that ſhe had
a propoſal to make to her huſband from the
governor, ſhe was left alone with him, re.
vealed to him all that had paſſed, and repre-
ſented the endleſs conflict ſhe was in be-
tween
%
..
The unjuſt Governor. 91
tween love to his perſon and fidelity to his
bed. It is eaſy to imagine the ſharp afflic.
tion this honeſt pair was in upon ſuch an in-
cident, in lives not uſed to any but ordina-
ry occurrences. The man was bridled by
ſhame from ſpeaking what his fear prompt.
ed upon ſo near an approach of death; but
let fall words that ſignified to her, he ſhould
not think her wicked, though ſhe had not
yet confeſſed to him that the governor had
violated her perſon, ſince he knew her will
had no part in the action. She parted from
him with this obliqne permiſſion to ſave a life
he had not reſolution enough to reſign for
the ſafety of his honour. The next morning
the unhappy Sapphira attended the gover-
nor, and being led into a remote apartment,
ſubmitted to his defires. Rhynfault com-
mended her charms, claimed a familiarity after
what had paffed between them; and, with an
air of gaiety, in the language of a gallant,
bid her return and take her huſband out of
priſon; but continued he, my fair one muſt
not be offended that I have taken care he ſhould
not be an interruption to our future aſſigna-
tions. Theſe laſt words foreboded what
ſhe found when ſhe came to the jail, her
huſband executed by the order of Rbynfault.
IC
1
Gulliver's Lectures.
;
It was remarkable that the woman, who
was full of tears and lamentations during the
whole courſe of her affliction, uttered neither
ſigh nor complaint, but ſtood fixed with
grief, at this conſummation of her misfor-
tunes. She betook herſelf to her abode; and
after having in folitude paid her devotions
to him who is the avenger of innocence, ſhe
repaired privately to court.
Her perſon,
and a certain grandeur of forrow, negligent
of forms, gained her paffage into the pre-
ſence of the duke her ſovereign. As ſoon
as ſhe came into his preſence, ſhe broke
forth into the following words: “Behold,
O mighty Charles, a wretch weary of life,
though it has been always ſpent with inno-
cence and virtue. It is not in your power
to redreſs my injuries, but it is to avenge
them. And if the protection of the diſtress
ſed, and the puniſhment of oppreſſors; is a
taſk worthy of a prince, I bring the Duke
of Burgundy ample matter for doing honour
to his own great name, and wiping infamy
off mine."
When ſhe had ſpoken this, ſhe delivered
the duke a paper, reciting her ſtory. He
read it with all the emotions that indigna-
tion and pity could raiſe in a prince, jealous
of
The unjuſt Governor.
93
{
of his honour in the behaviour of his officers,
and proſperity of his ſubjects.
Upon an appointed day, Rbynſault was
ſent for to court; and, in the preſence of a
few of the council confronted by Sapphira;
the prince aſking, Do you know that lady?
Rhynſault, as ſoon as he could recover his
ſurpriſe, told the duke he would marry her,
if his highneſs would pleaſe to think that a
reparation. The Duke feemed contented
with his anſwer, and ſtood by during the
immediate folemnization of the ceremony,
At the concluſion of it, he told Rhynfault,
Thus far have you done as conſtrained by
my authority: I Mall not be ſatisfied of your
kind uſage of her, without you fign a gift
of your whole eſtate to her after your deceaſe.
To the performance of this alſo the duke
was a witneſs. When theſe two acts were
executed, the duke turned to the lady, and
told her, “It now remains for me to put
you in quiet poffeffion of what your huſband
has ſo bountifully beſtowed on you;" and
ordered the immediate execution of Rhyn-
fault.
From the example of this monſter of luft
and cruelty, we are taught how dangerous
a thing it is to give way to the folicitations
of
94
Gulliver's Lectures,
of inordinate deſires; if men were to check,
with a virtuous reflection, the firſt ſallies of
irregular paſſions, they would find the con.
queſts of them eaſy; but by indulgence,
they grow in time uncontrollable, and lead
their votaries on, from vice to vice, till at
length they plunge them into inevitable de-
ſtruction. The breach of one moral or re-
ligious duty is generally attended with that
of ſeveral others: thus the brutiſh Rhynfault,
we find, at firſt only indulged a criminal
deſire for the fair wife of Danvelt; but in
order to accompliſh his baſe deſigns upon
her honour, be was guilty of falſely accuf-
ing her huſband, in order to get him con-
fined; and when he had obtained his will
of her, and thereby became guilty of adul.
tery, he filled up the meaſure of his iniqui-
ty by the murther of an innocent man, by
which means he thought he could continue
the gratification of his wicked deſires.
AD.
رو
ΤΗ
A D D E N T A.
HE following pretty Poems were com.
municated to Maſter Gulliver by one of
his little pupils, and he is very happy in
being able to find room for them at the end
of this volume.
The PEACOCK, the TURKY, and the Goose,
As s near.a barn, by hunger led,
A peacock with the poultry fed ;
All view'd him with an envious eye,
And mock'd his gaudy pageantry.
He, conſcious of ſuperior merir,
Contemps their baſe reviling ſpirit;
His ſtate and dignity aſſuines,
And to the ſun diſplays his plumes.
The circling rays, and yaried light,
At once confound their dazzled light:
On ev'ry tongue detraction burns,
And malice prompts their ſpleen by turas.
Mark, with what inſolence and pride,
The creature takes his haughty ſtride,
The Turkey cries. Can Spleen copcain?
Sure never bird was half 'To vain!
But were intrinſic merit ſeen,
We Turkies have the whiter ſkin.
From tongue to tongue they caught abuſes
And next was heard the hilling Gooſe.
What hideous legs! what filthy claws!
I ſcorn to cenſure little flaws.
Then what a horrid ſqualling throat !
Ev'n owls are frighted at the note.
Truç
True, thoſe are faults, the peacock cries;
My ſcreain, my ſhanks you may deſpiſe:
But ſuch blind critics rail in vain:
What, overlook my radiant train !
Know, did my legs, your ſcorn and ſport,
The Turkey or the Gooſe ſupport;
And did you ſcream with hardher ſound,
Thoſe faults in you had ne'er been found;
To all apparent beauties blind,
Each blemiſh Itrikes an envious mind.
In beauty faults conſpicuous grow;
The ſmalleſt Speck is ſeen on ſnow.
On a GRAVE-STONE, in a COUNTRY
CHURCH-YARD.
THE
HE maid that owns this humble ſtone,
Was ſcarce in yonder hamlet known:
And yet her ſweets, but heay'n denied,
Had grac'd thc cot where late the died.
Behold, how freſh the verdure grows,
Where Peace and Innocence repoſe.
Thou too, not unimprov'd, depart;
Go, guard, like her, the rural heart :
Go, keep her graſs-grown ſod in mind,
Till death, the foe whom chou ſhalt fund,
Bedew'd with many a ſimple tear,
Shall lay thy village virtues here.
End of the FIRST VOLUME.
1
t
GULLIVER'S LECTURES
VOL. II.
CONTAINING
л
CURIOUS COLLECTION
OF
VOYAGES AND
TRAVELS
PERFORMED BY
ILLUSTRIOUS ADVENTURERS.
VOL. II.
A
P R E F A C E.
I
SHALL appropriate this volume entire.
Jy to Voyages and Travels, being ſuch
as cannot fail to amuſe and improve my
little pupils and readers, as they will from
hence learn, that whatever difficulties and
dangers may befal them in the courſe or
this life, ſo long as they ſhall continue
good and virtuous, God will moſt certain-
ly aſſiſt thein to riſe above them.
The firſt Voyage is that of Gulliver to
Lilliput and Brobdingnag, extracted from
the writings of the great Dean Swift.
What we have before faid of fairy tales,
inay be, in fomne ineaſure, applied to this,
The Expedition to the Iſland of Angeli
ca, and Old Zigzag's Journey, are moral
and entertaining narratives.
A 2
But
4
PRE FACE.
But the Voyages and Travels of Maſter
Tominy Goodluck are entirely original, no
part of them ever having before appeared
in print. The copy was found among
other valuable manuſcripts, in the library
of a late learned Divine.
Read theſe attentively, my pretty Maſter
or Miſs, which ever you be, and you may,
poſſibly, in time become, the greateſt of
all little things, an Author!
А.
А
CURIOUS COLLECTION
or
VOYAGES
AND TRAVEL S.
Gulliver's Voyage to Lilliput and Brobdingnag.
CHAP. I.
M
Y kind and dear relation, Mr. Gullic
ver, was early in his life ſent to the
Univerſity of Cambridge, where he very clo-
ſely purſued his ſtudies for three years; but
the charge of maintaining him being too
great for his father's narrow fortune, he was
bound apprentice to a furgeon in London,
What little money he got, he laid out in
learning navigation and mathematicks, as he
always fancied he ſhould be a great travel-
ler. When his time was expired, he left
London, and ſtudied phyfick two years at
Leyden in Holland.
Soon after his return from Leyden, he
was recommended to be ſurgeon to the Swal.
low, Captain Abraham Parnell commander,
A 3
with
6 Voyage to Lilliput.
with whom he made a voyage or two into
the Levant, and other parts.
He was furgeon ſucceſſively to two ſhips,
and made ſeveral voyages to the Eaſt and
Weſt Indies, by which he made ſome addi-
tion to his fortune.
He failed from Briſtol on the 4th of May,
1699, on a voyage to the South-ſeas, in the
fhip Antelope. The voyage was at firſt very
proſperous; till, leaving thoſe feas, and
ſteering their courſe towards the Eaſt Indies,
they were driven by a ſtorm to the north-
ward of Van Diemen's land. Twelve of the
crew were dead by hard labour and bad food,
and the reſt were in a very weak condition.
On the 5th of November, the beginning
of ſummer in thoſe parts, the weather being
hazy, they eſpied a rock within a cable's
length of the fhip; and the wind being
ſtrong, they immediately ſplit upon it. Mr.
Gulliver, and five of the crew, heaved out
the boat: and made a ſhift to get clear of
the ſhip and the rock. They rowed till they
could work no longer, and then, truſting
to the mercy of the waves, in about half
an hour the boat was overſet by a ſudden
fquall from the north. What became of
the other ſeamen, Mr. Gulliver knew not;
but
Voyage to Lilliput.
7
but he fwam with wind and tide, and often
in vain let his legs drob, in hopes of feel-
ing the bottom; at laſt, when he was almoſt
ready to expire, he found himſelf within
his depth; and the ſtorm being greatly abat-
ed, he walked above a mile before he reach-
ed the ſhore. He then advanced near half
a mile up the country, but could not
diſcover either houſes or inhabitants. He
laid down on the graſs, which was verò
ſhort and ſoft, and ſlept about nine hours.
He awaked juſt at day.break; and upon at-
tempting to riſe, he found that he could not
ftir; for, as he laid on his back, he found
his arms and legs faſtened to the ground;
and his hair, which was long and thick,
tied in the ſame manner. In a little time
he felt ſomething alive moving on his left
leg, which advanced almoſt up to his chin,
when bending his eyes downwards, he per:
ceived it to be a human creature, not fix
inches high, with a bow and arrow in his
hand, and a quiver at his back. He then
felt at leaſt forty more following the firſt;
and being greatly aſtoniſhed, he roared ſo
loud, that they all ran back in a fright;
and ſome of them broke their limbs by leap-
ing from his fides to the ground. They
A 4
foon
8
Voyage to Lilliput.
foon' after returned; and one of them, who
ventured to get a full fight of his face, with
the greateſt aſtoniſhment cried out, Heki-
nak Degul. He did not underſtand their
language; and by often ſtruggling to get
looſe; he at laſt wrenched out the pegs and
ſtrings by which he was faſtened to the
ground, and ſo far releafed his hair, that he
could turn his head fideways; upon which
the creatures ran off a ſecond time, with a
great ſhout.
Soon after one of them cried
out aloud Tolgo Phonac; when inſtantly Mr.
Gulliver perceived ſome hundreds of arrows
diſcharged upon his hands and face, which
pricked him like ſo many needles, and
gave him ſo much pain, that he ſtrove again
to get looſe; ſome of them attempted to ſtab
him in the ſide with their ſpears, but they
could not pierce his buff waiſtcoat. When
the people obſerved that he laid quiet, they
diſcharged no more arrows. He ſaw them
buſy in erecting a ſtage at a little diſtance,
about a foot and a half high; which they
had no fooner finiſhed, than four of them
aſcended it by a ladder. One of them, who
ſeemed to be a perſon of quality, was taller
than thoſe who attended him; one of whom
held up his train, and was about four inches
high.
Voyage to Lilliput.
4
9
high.
He cried out three times, Langro
Dehul San; on which they cut the ſtrings
that bound the left ſide of his head. The
little monarch made an oration, not one
word, of which Mr. Gulliver could under:
ftand; he obſerved, however, many ſigns
of threatenings, and others of promiſes, pity;
and kindneſs; and he anſwered by motions
of ſubmiſſion and friendſhip. Being almoſt
familhed with hunger, he put his finger fre-
quently to his mouth, to fignify to them
that he wanted food. The Hurgo, for ſo
they called a great lord, underſtood him
very well; he deſcended from the ſtage,
and ordered ſeveral ladders to be placed againſt
Mr. Gulliver's ſides, by which above a hun.
dred of the people mounted, and walked
towards his mouth, laden with baſkets of
meat; there were ſhoulders, legs, and loins,
ſhaped like thoſe of mutton, but ſmaller
than the wings of a lark. He eat two or
three of them at a mouthful, and took three
of the loaves, which were as big as a mus-
ket bullet, at a time. The inhabitants
were aſtoniſhed at his bulk and appetite; and,
on his making á ſign for drink, they flung
up one of their largeſt hogſheads; rolled it
towards his hand, and beat out the topi
A 5
He
I
Voyage to Lilliput.
He drank it off at a draught, for it did not
hold half a pint, and taſted like Burgundy.
They afterwards brought a ſecond hogſhead,
which he alſo deſpatched; and, calling for
more, found they had no more to give him.
When he had done theſe wonders, they
ſhouted for joy; and after warning the peo-
ple on the ground, the lord deſired he would
throw the empty barrels as far as he could;
and when they ſaw the veſſels in the air,
there was an univerſal thout of Hekinah
Degul.
Mr. Gulliver could not help wondering at
the intrepidity of theſe diminutive mortals,
who ventured to mount and walk upon his
body, wbile one of his hands was at liber-
ty, without trembling at the very ſight of
ſo prodigious a creature as he muſt appear
to them. After ſome time, an ambaſſador
from the king appeared before him, who,
producing his credentials under the royal feal,
fpoke about ten minutes without any fign
of anger, and yet with great reſolation;
pointing often towards the metropolis, which
was diſtant about half a mile, whither it
was his majeſty's pleaſure that he ſhould be
conveyed. Mr. Gulliver made figns, that
he ſhould be glad to be releaſed; and the
ambal-
Voyage to Lilliput. II
ambaſſador underſtood very well what lie
meant, for he ſhook his head by way of
diſapprobation, and ſignified that he muſt be
carried as a priſoner; he therefore gave to.
kens that they might do what they would
with him; whereupon the Hurgo with his
train withdrew with chearful countenances.
Soon after the people fouted out Peploni
Selau; and he felt the cords ſo relaxed, that
he was able to turn upon his right fide.
They then rubbed his hands and face with
an ointment which took off the ſmart of their
arrows; and this circumſtance, added to the
plentiful meal he had made, cauſed him to
fall faſt aſleep.
The king immediately fet five hundred
carpenters to work, to prepare an engine by
which he might be conveyed to the capital.
It was a wooden frame, three inches high,
feven feet long, and four broad, and mov-
ed upon twenty-two wheels.
brought cloſe to Mr. Gulliver's ſide as he
laid. To raiſe ſo immenſe a creature upon
this vehicle, eighty poles, each of a foot
high, were erected; and very ſtrong ropes,
of the bigneſs of packthread, were faſtened
by hooks to many bandages which the work-
man had girt round bis neck, hands, body,
and
It was
I 2
Voyage to Lilliput.
and legs.
Nine hundred of the ſtrongeſt
men were employed to draw up theſe cords,
by pullies faſtened on the poles, and in a
few hours he was raiſed, and flung into the
engine, and tied down. All this Mr. Gul.
liver was told afterwards; for, while the
whole operation was performing, he laid faſt
aſleep, by the force of a medicine that had
been purpoſely infuſed in the wine he had
drank. Fifteen hundred ſtrong horſes, about
four inches and a half high, were yoked
to the machine, and had much ado to drag
it along
They made a long march this day, and
Mr. Gulliver was guarded in the night by
five thouſand men on each ſide, one half of
them with torches, and the other half of
them with bows and arrows, ready to ſhoot
him if he offered to ſtir. Early the next
morning they continued their march, and :
at noon arrived within two hundred yards
of the city gates.
The carriage ſtopped near an old temple,
the largeſt in the kingdom, but which, on
account of a murther having been commit.
ted therein, was never frequented. In this
edifice it was agreed Mr. Gulliver ſhould
lodge. The'gate was four feet high and
two
Voyage to Lilliput. 13
two feet wide, and on each ſide were four
windows. To this temple he was faſtened
by ninety-one chains, which were fixed to
his leg by thirty-fix padlocks.. Juſt oppo.
ſite ftood a famous turret, five feet high; to
the top of which, the emperor and many
lords aſcended, for the ſake of ſeeing ſo lar.
ge a monſter; vaſt numbers of people came
alſo upon the fame errand; and when the
workmen found that they had thoroughly
ſecured him, they cut all the ſtrings with
which he was bound; and upon bis riſing
upon his legs, they ſhewed the greateſt
mark of wonder and aſtoniſhment.
Mr. Gulliver was no ſooner on his legs,
than he was pleaſed with beholding the pro-
ſpect of the country; large fields of forty
feet fquare; woods, at leaſt fixty feet long;
and tall trees, almoſt ſeven feet high; and
the city on the left hand, which looked like
the view of London in a raree-ſhew..
The emperor having deſcended from the
tower, came forward, with the queen, and
many ladies, to examine Mr. Gulliver more
minutely. He had ordered his cooks and
buttlers to prepare ten waggon loads of meat,
ánd ten of wine; and he and his attendants
fat at ſome diſtance, to ſee him dine. He
ſuffered
14 Voyage to Lilliput.
fuffered Gulliver to take him up into the
palm of his hand, after having drawn his
ſword to defend himſelf if he ſhould not be
uſed kindly. The emperor ſpoke often to
Mr. Gulliver, and Mr. Gulliver as often ad-
ſwered him, but all to no purpoſe, for they
could not underſtand one another. When
the court withdrew, he was left with a
ftrong guard, to prevent the impertinence
of the rabble, many of whom, ſuppoſing
he would deyour all the vi&tuals in the coun-
try, had the audacity to thoot their arrows
at him; but the colonel orderèd fix of them
to be feiſed, and delivered into his hands;
they were immediately bound, and puſhed
towards him; he placed them upon his right
hand, and made a ſign as if he would eat
them up alive; they were greatly affright-
ed and fqualled terribly when they ſaw him
take out his knife; but afterwards looking
mildly, and cutting the ſtrings with which
they were bound, he placed them gently
on the ground, and away they ran as faſt
as they were able. This mark of clemen-
cy was repreſented much to his advantage
at court.
For a fortnight he laid upon the naked
pavement of his houſe, which was ſmooth
ftone;
Voyage to Lilliput. 15
ftone; during which time fix hundred beds
were brought in carriages, and worked up
within the building; one hundred and fifty
were fown together in breadth and length;
and theſe were four double, which, how-
ever, was barely fufficient to relieve him
from the hardneſs of the floor; and in the
fame manner alſo, he was provided with
ſheets, blankets and coverlids.
1. The emperor, however, had frequent
councils concerning him; the court appre-
hended his breaking loofe, that his diet would
be very expenſive, and might cauſe a fami-
ne. Sometimes they determined to ſtarve
him, or to ſhoot him in the face and hands
with poiſoned arrows; but again they fore.
faw., that the fench of fo large a carcaſe
might produce a plague in the land. In
one of theſe conſultations, an officer of the
army went to the council chamber, and gave
an account of his behaviour to the fix cri.
minals juft mentioned, which worked fo fa.
vouřably on the mind of his majeſty, that
he iſſued orders for all the villages within
nine hundred yards round the city, to 'deli-
ver'in every morning fix beeves, four ſheep,
and a proper quantity of bread and wine for
his fubfiftence, for all which they were paid
by.
16 Voyage to Lilliput,
by the treaſury board. Six hundred dome.
ſticks were alſo allowed him, upon board
wages, who lived in tents on each ſide of
the door of his houſe. Three hundred tai-
Jors were employed in making him a ſuit of
clothes. Six men of learning attended to
teach him their language; and the emperor's
horſes and troops frequently exerciſed near
bim, to accuſtom them to fo huge a fight,
He foon learned enough of the language to
acquaint the king of his great deſire of li-
berty, which he repeated on his knees; but
the mighty monarch informed him, that that
requeſt could not be granted without the ad.
vice of council, and that he muſt /wear pea-
ce with him and his kingdom; and further
adviſed, that by his diſcreet behaviour, he
might obtain the good opinion of him and
all his ſubjects.
He next deſired that certain officers might
ſearch him, for probably he might have wea.
pons about him which might be dangerous
to the ſtate. To this Mr. Gulliver conſent.
ed; he took the two officers in his hand,
and put them firſt into one pocket and then
into another. Theſe gentlemen ſet down in
writing every thing they found; and after
putting them fafely on the ground, they
preſent-
Voyage to Lilliput. 17
preſented the inventory to the emperor,
which was as follows:
In the right-hand coat pocket, we found
a large piece of coarſe cloth, large enough
for a floor cloth to the chamber of ſtate.
In the left pocket, a filver cheſt, with a
cover of the fame metal; we deſired to ſee
it opened; and on our ſtepping into it found
ourſelves mid-leg deep in a ſort of duſt which
made us ſneeze wonderfully. In the right
waiſtcoat pocket we found a number of whi.
te thin ſubſtances folded, about the big.
neſs of three men, tied with a cable, and
marked with black figures. In the left, an
engine, from the back of which were ex-
tended a row of long poles reſembling pa-
liſadoes. In the right-hand breeches pocket,
we ſaw a hollow pillar of iron, about the
length of a man, faſtened to a ſtrong piece
of timber, larger than the pillar; on one ſide
of which were huge pieces of ſtrong iron,
ſticking out; and in the left pocket, another
engine of the fame kind. In a ſmaller poc-
ket of the right-hand, ſeveral pieces of white
and red metal, of different ſizes; ſome of
the white ones were fo heavy, that we could
hardly lift them. In the left pocket, were
two ſtrange engines, with one of which he
VOL. II.
B
told
18 Voyage to Lilliput.
told us he ſhaved himſelf, and that with the
other he cut his victuals. There were two
other finaller pockets, from one of which
he took a large globe, half ſilver, and half
of fome tranſparent metal; this he put cloſe
to our ears, and we were ſurpriſed with a
noiſe as loud as the fall of a water-mill;
this engine he called his oracle, and ſaid it
pointed out the time of every action of his
life; we therefore preſume it is the god
that he worſhips. From the left fob he took
out a net, large enough for a fiſherman;
in this were ſeveral pieces of yellow metal,
which, if they be real gold, are of more
value than all the wealth in your majeſty's
coffers.
Round his waiſt was a belt made of the
ſkin of fome unknown animal, from which
hung a ſword, the length of nine men; on
his right ſide was a bag, containing two
cells, in one of which were ſeveral balls
as big as a man's head, and which we were
ſcarce able to lift; the other was filled with
black grains, about fifty of which we could
hold in the palms of our hands.
When this inventory was read over, the
king deſired Mr. Gulliver to give up the fe-
veral particulars; he therefore firſt took his
fcimis
Voyage to Lilliput. 19
ſcimitar out of the fcabbard, and waving it
backward and forward, the reflection of the
fun greatly dazzled the eyes of the behol-
ders. The next thing he demanded, was
one of the hollow iron pillars; Mr. Gulliver
took it out of his pocket, and charging it
with powder only, he let it off in the air;
on which hundreds of the Lilliputians fell on
the ground as if they had been dead, and
even the emperor was greatly confounded.
His piſtols were then delivered up, together
with the pouch of powder and bullets, af-
ter begging that the former might be kept
from the fire, for fear his imperial majeſty's
palace might be blown into the air. The
emperor being deſirous of ſeeing his watch,
two of the yeomen of the guards flung it
acroſs a pole, as the draymen do a barrel of
beer in England; and he and the learned
men were amazed at the noiſe it made, and
at the motion of the minute hand.
ney, knife, rafor, comb, &c. were then
given up. The ſcimitar, piſtols, and pouch
were conveyed by broad-wheel waggons to
the king's ſtores, but the reſt of the things
were reſtored.
Mr. Gulliver's gentle behaviour gained the
good opinion of the emperor, the army,
and
His mo-
B 2
20
Voyage to Lilliput.
and the people in general; they became leſs
apprehenſive of danger from him, and at laſt
the boys and girls would dance country
dances on the palm of his hand as he laid
on the ground, or play at hide and ſeek in
his hair.
I
1
1
CHAP. II.
T
THE emperor at length mentioned his
intentions of releaſing Mr. Gulliver in
the cabinet, where, after ſome oppoſition,
the following preliminaries were drawn up
for their mutual intereſt and ſecurity.
His fublime majeſty propoſeth to the Man-
mountain the following articles; which, by
a folemn oath, he ſhall be obliged to per-
form.
iſt, He ſhall not depart without licence.
2dly, He ſhall not come into the metro.
polis without leave.
3dly, He ſhall confine his walks to the
high roads, and not lie down in any meadow
or corn-field.
4thly, He ſhall take care not to trample
upon any of our ſubjects, their horſes or
carriages.
5thly,
Voyage to Lillipiit. 21
5thly, If an expreſs requires extraordina-
ry deſpatch, he ſhall be obliged to carry
in his pocket the meſſenger and borſe, and
return them ſafe and found.
6thly, He ſhall be our ally againſt our
enemies,
7thly, He ſhall be aiding and aſſiſting to
our workmen, in raiſing certain great fto-
nes for covering the park walls, and other
royal buildings.
Laſtly, That upon the ratification of theſe
articles, he ſhall have a daily allowance of
meat and drink fufficient for the ſupport of
ſeventeen hundred and twenty-four men.
As foon as Mr. Gulliver had ſworn to,
and ſubſcribed theſe articles, his chains were
unlocked, and he was at full liberty; be
immediately made his acknowledgement by
proftrating himſelf at his majeſty's feet. The
emperor gracioufly ordered him to riſe; and
after many expreſſions of friendſhip, told
him, that he hoped he would prove an uſe.
ful fervant, and deſerve the favours he had
already, or might hereafter confer upon him.
The wall of the city of Milendo is two
feet and a half high, and feven inches
broad, ſo that a coach may be driven upon
the top of it, and there are ſtrong towers
B 3
at
22
Voyage to Lilliput.
at the diſtance of every ten feet. Mr. Gul-
liver eaſily ſtrode over the wall, and went
carefully through the principal ſtreets in his
waiſtcoat only, for fear the ſkirts of his
coat might damage the roofs and eves of
the houſes. The garret windows, and the
tops of houſes were ſo crowded with ſpec-
tators, that Mr. Gulliver imagined the city
muſt contain at leaſt five hundred thouſand
fouls. Some of the houſes are five ſtories
high, the markets well provided, and the
Shops very rich. The city is an exact ſqua-
re of five hundred feet; two great ſtreets,
which divide it into quarters, are five feet
wide; the lanes and allies are from twelve
to eighteen inches. The enjperor's palace,
which is in the centre, is incloſed by a wall
two feet high; the outward court is a vaſt
ſquare of forty feet, and here ſtand the ro-
yal apartments. Theſe, Mr. Gulliver, by
lying down upon his ſide, and applying his
face to the windows, had the pleaſure of
viewing, and he found them more fplendid
than could be imagined.
He ſaw the em.
preſs and the young princeſs in their feve-
ral lodgings, and her majeſty was pleaſed
to put her hand out of the window for hiin
to kiſs.
Mr.
l’oyage to Lilliput.
23
Mr. Gulliver having been informed by the
king's ſecretary that they were going to
war with a neighbouring nation, communi-
cated to the emperor a project he had form-
ed of feiſing the enemy's whole fleet while
it lay at anchor in the harbour, and ready
to fail with the firſt fair wind.
The depth
of the channel that divided the two iſlands
of Lilliput and Blefuſcu, with whom they
were going to war, was, in the middle,
about fix feet; and, after being provided
with a proper quantity of cables, as thick
as packthread, and bars of iron as thick as
knitting needles, which he bent into the form
of a hook, Mr. Gulliver, in his leather jac.
ket only, waded about thirty yards into
the fea; when being out of his depth, he
ſwam till he felt the bottom on the oppofi-
te ſhore. The enemy were ſo frightened,
that they all quitted their ſhips and made to-
wards the ſhore. Mr. Gulliver then took
out his tackle, faſtened a hook at the prow
of each ſhip, and then tying all the cords
together, began to pull, put not a ſhip would
ftir, for they had all good anchorage. He
therefore took out his knife, and reſolutely
cut all their cables. In executing this, how-
ever, he received a prodigious number of
wounds
В 4
24 Voyage to Lillipit.
wounds in his hands and face, from the ar.
rows of the enemy. He then took up the
cords to which his hooks were tied, and
with great eaſe drew fifty of the enemy's
men of war after him.
The emperor, with his attendants, ſtood
on the coaſt, expecting the iſſue of this ad-
venture. They ſaw the ſhips move, but
could not difcern Mr. Gulliver, who was up
to his chin in water. They concluded him to
be drowned, and that the enemy's fleet were
approaching in a hoſtile manner. However, as
the ſea became ſhallower and ſhallower eve-
ry ſtep, he was foon within hearing; and then
holding up the end of the cable by which the
fleet were faſtened together, he cried aloud,
Long live the moſt puiſſant emperor of Lil-
liput! He was received at his landing with
great encomiums, and created a Nardic,
which is the higheſt title of honour.
His majeſty deſired that Mr. Gulliver would
take ſome future opportunity of bringing all
the reſt of the enemy's ſhips into his ports;
and his ambition was ſo great, that he ſeem-
ed to think of nothing but reducing Blefu-
ſcu to a province. Mr. Gulliver, however,
boldly protefted, that he would never be an
inftru-
Voyage to Lilliput. 25
inftrument of bringing a brave and free peo-
ple into flavery.
This open declaration, however, was at
firſt productive of diſlike in the emperor, and
afterwards of hatred. From this time an
intrigue began between his majeſty and his
miniſters, that had like to have ended in
poor Gulliver's deſtruction.
Soon after the ſeiſure of the Blefuſeuan
fleet, amballadors were ſent from that nation
with humble offers of peace. After the trea-
ty was ratified, their excellencies paid a vi.
fit to Mr. Gulliver; they complimented him
upon his valour and generoſity, and in the
name of their emperor invited him to pay
a viſit to their kingdom. Accordingly, the
next time he ſaw the emperor, he deſired
leave to wait on the Blefuſcuan monarch,
which he granted indeed, but in a very
cold manner; for Flimnap and Bolgolam had
repreſented his intercourſe with the ambaf-
fadors as a mark of difaffection,
It was not long, however, before he had
an opportunity of doing, as he thought, ſo
ſignal a ſervice as would have put aſide all
fufpicions of his fidelity. He was alarmed
at midnight with horrid cries; and ſeveral of
the courtiers intreated him to repair imme.
diately
B 5
26
Voyage to Lilliput.
diately to the palace, for her majeſty's apart-
ments were on fire, by the careleſſneſs of a
maid of honour, who fell aſleep while ſhe
was reading a romance; Mr. Gulliver got up,
and made the beſt of his way to the me.
tropolis; he might eaſily have ſtifled the fire
with the flap of his coat, but that, in his
hafte, he had unfortunately left behind him.
The caſe was truely deplorable. Mr. Gulli-
ver had, however, drank plentifully of wine;
and this, by his coming very near the fla-
mes, and by his labouring to quench them,
began to operate, and was voided in ſuch a
quantity, and was fo properly applied, that
in three minutes the fire was totally extin-
guiſhed. By the laws of the realm, how.
ever, it was a capital offence for any per-
ſon to make water within the precinct of
the palace; and Mr. Gulliver was informed,
that the emperor would rather that the pa-
lace had been burnt to the ground, than he
ſhould have made uſe of ſuch filthy means
of extinguiſhing the fire; and as for the em-
preſs, ſhe could never be perſuaded to live
in her apartments afterwards, and privately
vowed vengeance againſt Gulliver.
СНАР,
27
CHAP. III.
TH
HE common ſize of the natives is about
fix inches, and there is the ſame pro-
portion in all their animals, plants, and trees;
their horſes and oxen are four or five inches
high; the ſheep an inch and a half, their
geeſe the bigneſs of a beetle, and ſo on.
Their talleſt trees are about ſeven feet high,
and a good handſome cabbage is about as
big as a common horſe-bean.
Their manner of writing is very peculiar,
being neither from the right hand to the left,
nor from the left hand to the right, nor from
the top to the bottom; but aſlant from one
corner of the paper to the other, as the la-
dies of England generally write.
Mr. Gulliver's ſuite of ſervants was very
numerous: he had three hundred cooks to
dreſs his victuals. He uſed to place twen-
ty waiters upon the table, and a hundred
more attended on the ground, fome with
diſhes of meat, and ſome with wine. A
ſhoulder of mutton was one mouthful, and
a barrel of liquor a reaſonable draught. Once
indeed he had a furloin of beef fo immen-
ſely large, that he made three bits of it.
The
28 Voyage to Lilliput.
.
The geeſe and turkies were a ſcanty mouth-
ful, and of their ſmaller fowls he frequent-
ly took up twenty or thirty at a time upon
the end of his knife.
Flimnap, the treaſurer, was always a
mortal enemy to Mr. Gulliver. He repre-
ſented to the emperor the low condition of
the treaſury; and, in ſhort, went fo far as
to inform him, that the Man-mountain had
coft his majeſty above a million of money
in eating and drinking, and that it was high-
ly adviſeable, that the firſt fair opportunity
ſhould be taken of diſmiſſing him.
While Mr. Gulliver was preparing to pay
a viſit to the emperor of Blefufcu, a perſon
of rank called at his houſe privately, and
in the night. After the common filutations
were over, the worthy nobleman informed
him, that at the inſtigation of Flimnap, the
treaſurer, Lentoc, the commander in chief,
Lancon, the chamberlain, and Balinuff, the
grand juſticiary, his majeſty had reſolved
upon the following articles of impeachment
againſt him for high treaſon, and other ca-
pital crimes.
iſt, That he did, in defiance of a known
law, under the frivolous pretence of extin-
guiſhing a fire in the royal palace, mali:
ciouſly
Voyage to Lilliput. 29
ciouſly and traiterouſly make water upon
the ſame,
2dly, That after having ſeiſed and ſecur.
ed the fleet of Blefuſcu, he did refuſe to
deſtroy all the other ſhipping, and to put
the inhabitants to death, under a pretence of
an unwillingneſs to deſtroy the liberties and
lives of an innocent people.
3dly, That he was preparing to make a
voyage to the court of Blefufeu, for which
he had received only a verbal licence, and
thereby to aid and abet the emperor of Ble.
fufcu againſt of his imperial majeſty Lilliput.
Mr. Gulliver at firſt thought of pleading
to the articles, and boldly ſtanding tryal;
but be recollected, that ſtate tryals general-
ly terminate as the judges pleaſe to direct.
He then was ſtrongly bent upon reſiſtance;
for while he had liberty, the whole ftrength
of that empire could hardly ſubdue him, and
he could eaſily with ſtones pelt the metropo-
Jis to pieces.
At laſt, however, he refolved to leave
the iſland peaceably, and to viſit the em-
peror of Blefufcu.
He went to that fide
of the iſland where the fleet lay, feiſed upon
a large man of war, tied a cable to the prow,
heayed anchor, and, after ſtripping, put his
clothes
!
30 Voyage to Lilliput.
clothes into the veſſel, and drawing it after
him, ſoon arrived at the port of Blefufcu.
His majeſty, the royal family, and great
officers of the court, immediately came
out to receive him. The reception he met
with was ſuitable to the generoſity of fo
great a prince; but for want of a proper
houſe and bed, he was forced to lie on the
ground, wrapped up in his coverlid.
Three days after Mr. Gulliver arrived at
Blefufcu, he obſerved fomething in the ſea,
about half a league from ſhore, that refem-
bled a boat overturned; and after wading a
conſiderable way, he found that the tide
bore it towards the ſhore, and that it was
really a boat, which fome tempeſt had driv-
en from a ſhip. By the time he had wad-
ed up to his chin, the boat was within
reach; he then got behind it, and with
little difficulty puſhed it alhore.
After ſome time he was informed, that
an envoy was arrived from Lilliput, with
a copy of the articles of impeachment, who
repreſented the lenity of the emperor his
maſter, and that he was content the culprit
ſhould be puniſhed only with the loſs of his
eyes; and that he hoped the emperor of
Blefus.
Voyage to Lilliput. 30
Blefuſcu would order him to be ſent back
to Lilliput, bound hand and foot.
To this the emperor replied, that he be.
lieved their majeſties would foon be made
eaſy. For that the Man-mountain had
found a prodigious veſſel on the ſhore, able
to carry him to ſea, which was ordered to
be fitted up according to bis own direction;
and that he hoped in a few weeks both em-
pires would be freed from ſo inſupportable
an incumbrance; and with this anſwer the
envoy returned to Lilliput.
Since fortune, whether good or evil, had
thrown a boat in Mr. Gulliver's way, he was
now reſolved to venture himſelf upon the
ocean; and the emperor and moſt of his mi.
niſters were glad of the reſolution.
Five hundred workmen were employed
to make fails for the boat, by quilting thir.
teen folds of their ſtrongeſt linen together.
He twiſted ten, twenty, or thirty of their
ſtrongeſt cables together for ropes, and a
great ſtone ſerved for an anchor. He form-
ed mafts and oars from ſome of the largeſt
foreſt trees, and the tallow of three hun-
dred oxen was uſed in greaſing the boat.
After every thing was in readineſs, Mr.
Gulliver took leave of the emperor and the
royal
32 Voyage to Lillipilt.
royal family, by whom he was preſented
with fifty purſes of gold, and a full-length
picture of his majeſty. He ſtored the boat
with the carcaſes of a hundred oxen, three
hundred ſheep, as much ready-dreſſed meat
as three hundred cooks could provide, and
bread and drink in proportion. He alſo took
ſix cows and two bulls alive; the ſame num-
ber of ewes and rams, with a good bund-
le of hay and a bag of corn.
Thus equipped, he fet fail on the 24th of
September, in the morning, and in the even-
ing diſcryed an iſland about four leagues
diftant. He advanced forward, and caſt
anchor on the lee-ſide of it. He then took
ſome refreſhment, and went to reft. He
eat his breakfaſt in the morning before the
ſun was up, and heaving anchor, ſteered
the fame courſe he had done the day befo-
He diſcovered nothing all this day,
but upon the next he deſcryed a fail; he
hailed her, but got no anſwer; yet as he
found he gained upon her, he made all the
fail he could, and in half an hour ſhe eſpied
him, and hung out her antient. He came
up with her at fix in the evening, and was
overjoyed to ſee her Engliſh colours; he
put his live ſtock into his pockets, and got
re.
on
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 33
on board with all his cargo of proviſions.
The veſſel was an Engliſh merchantman, re.
turning from Japan, and was commanded by
Mr. John Riddel, who, when Mr. Gulliver
informed him of his adventures, imagined
he had loſt his wits; whereupon, taking his
oxen and ſheep out of his pockets, after
great aſtoniſhment, he clearly convinced the
crew of his veracity.
The remainder of his voyage was very
proſperous, for they arrived in the Downs
on the 13th of April.
CH A P. IV.
ITHIN two months of Mr. Gulliver's
return from Lilliput, he again left his
native country on board the Adventure,
bound for Surat. At the Cape of Good
Hope, the captain falling fick of an ague,
they were obliged to winter. In the ſpring,
being to the northward of Madagaſcar, the
winds blew with great violence, and they
were driven to the eaſt of the Molucca
iſlands. A perfect calm enſued for a few
days; and afterwards a violent ſtorm aroſe.
VOL. II.
с
By
34 Voyage to Brobdingnag.
By this ſtorm they were carried near five
hundred leagues to the eaſt. On the 16th of
June, 1703, a boy on the top-maſt diſco-
vered land; and the next day they came in
view of an iſland. They caſt anchor, and
the captain fent a dozen men on ſhore for
water; and Mr. Gulliver deſired leave to ac-
company them. When they landed, they
faw neither river nor ſpring, nor any ſigns
of inhabitants. The men wandered near the
ſhore to find freſh water, and Mr. Gulliver
walked alone above a mile up the country,
which was barren and rocky. When he re-
turned he ſaw the men all in the boat, and
rowing with all their might to reach the ſhip,
and a huge creature wading after them into
the fea, as faſt as he could. Being affright-
ed, Mr. Gulliver retreated precipitately, and
climbing up a ſteep hill, had a good pro-
ſpect of the country, which was well culti-
vated; but what ſurpriſed him was the graſs,
the blades of which were 20 feet high.
He went into a path that led through a
field of barley; he walked for ſome time,
but could ſee nothing on either ſide, for the
corn was forty feet high; and the field was
fenced with a hedge one hundred and twen-
ty feet high, and the trees were as high
again
l'oyage to Brobdingnag. 35
again as the dome of St. Paul's. At the
end of the path was a ſtile, conſiſting of four
ſteps, which were each fix feet high, and
a huge ſtone placed edgeways at the top,
of at leaſt twenty feet.
As he could not
poſſibly climb this ſtile, he looked about for
a gap in the hedge, when he obſerved a
perſon in the next field advancing towards
the ſtile, as luſty as the man he had ſeen
wading into the ſea after the boat. He was
as tall as a church tower, and ſtrode ten yards
at every ſtep. Mr. Gulliver, aftonilhed and
affrighted, hid himſelf in the corn. The
monſter hallowed to fome of his companions,
in a voice as loud as thunder, whereupon
ſeven of them came into the field with reap-
ing hooks in their hands as big as ſix ſcy-
thes, and began to cut the barley, and Mr.
Gulliver kept at a diſtance as well as he could ;
but, as the ſtalks of the corn were only
about a foot apart, he could hardly ſqueeze
his body between them. At length being
overcome with toil and grief, he laid down
betwixt two ridges, expecting every mo-
ment to be his laft.
One of the reapers
having approached within ten yards of him,
he fully expected, with the next cut to be
ſevered in two, and therefore could not help
ſcream-
С2
36
Voyage to Brobdingnag.
ſcreaming out. The monſter ſtopped ſhort,
ftared about, and at length diſcovered him.
He took him up between his finger and thumb.
Poor Gulliver expected every moment to be
daſhed againſt the ground as we do a toad;
but he was happily diſappointed, for the fa-
vage feemed pleaſed, and began to look upen
him as a curioſity. He liſted up the lappet
of his coat, and putting him carefully in it,
ran along with him to his maſter, who was
a ſubſtantial farmer, and who ſeemed greatly
ſurpriſed at fo pigmy an animal.
The farmer blew Mr. Gulliver's hair afide,
to take a better view of his face, and turn-
ed up the laps of his coat, which he took
to be fome covering which nature had pro-
vided. He then placed him ſoftly on the
ground upon all four, but he immediately
got upon his legs, and walked ſlowly back-
ward and forward, to convince them that
he had no intention to run away. He then
pulled off his hat, and made a bow to the
farmer, and ſpoke ſeveral words as loud as
lie could. He took out his purſe, and pre-
ſenting it, the farmer received it on the
palm of his hand, looked earneſtly at it, but
could 110t tell what to make of it.
:
Tlie
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 37
The farmer then fent his ſervants to their
work, and wrapping Mr. Gulliver up in his
handkerchief, carried him home to his wife;
The ſcreamed and ſtarted back as the ladies
of England do at a ſpider. However, af
ter ſeeing his behaviour, and how well he
obſerved the ſigns of her huſband, ſhe be-
came by degrees very fond of him.
Being dinner-time, a ſubſtantial piece of
meat was brought in upon a diſh twenty-
four feet over, and placed upon the table
which was thirty feet high. When the
good woman and her children were ſeated,
the farmer placed Mr. Gulliver very near
him, and his wife minced a bit of meat and
put it before him. He made a low bow,
pulled out his knife, and fell to eating, which
delighted the company very much. He
then was ſerved with liquor ſomewhat like
cyder, in a ſmall dram cup that held about
two gallons. The farmer then made a ſign
for him to come to his trencher ſide, and
as he was advancing, the youngeſt ſon,
who ſtood next his father, and was about
ten years old, took him up by the heels,
and held him dangling in the air; for which
the farmer gave the boy a box on the ear
that would have felled an ox, and ordered
C3
him
38
Voyage to Brobdingnag.
(
him to be taken from the table. Gulliver,
however, being afraid the boy might owe
him a ſpite, fell on his knees and by ſigns
begged he might be forgiven; the father
complied, and the boy took his dinner.
While they were at dinner, the miſtrefs's
cat jumped into her lap, which ſeemed twice
as large as an ox; Gulliver at firſt was ter-
ribly affrighted, for fear the cat ſhould make
a ſpring at him, and devour him like a mou.
fe; but his fears were vain, for ſhe took
no notice of him; nay, on his boldly ap-
proaching her, ſhe drew herſelf back, as if
ſhe were more afraid of him. He was leſs
afraid of the dogs, three or four of which
came into the rooin, equal in bulk to four
elephants.
During the dinner, a nurſe came in with
a child in her arms, who, taking Gulliver
for a pretty play-thing, gave a fquall as chil-
dren are wont to do. The mother, willing
to indulge her brat, took him up and put
him into its hands: the child immediately
put his head into its mouth: but on his roar.
ing very loud, he let him drop, and he
certainly would have broken his neck, if
the mother had not catched him in her
apron.
The
Voyage to Brobdingnag.
32
The farmer's wife perceiving Mr. Gulli-
ver was tired and diſpoſed to ſleep, put him
on her own bed, and covered him with a
clean handkerchief, which was as big as the
main-fail of a man of war. He had not
ſlept long, before he was awakened by two
rats, as big as maſtiffs, who ran fimelling
about the bed; one of them came up almoſt
to his face, on which he aroſe, drew his
hanger, and defended himſelf ftoutly. They
attaked him with equal reſolution, but he
ripped up the belly of one that was going
to feiſe him by the throat, and the other did
not efcape without a dreadful wound on the
back.
The farmer's wife coming into the room,
Gulliver ſmiled, and made ſigns that he was
not hurt; ſhe was rejoiced, and called the
maid to take the dead rat away with a pair
of tongs, and to throw it out of the window,
THE
CHAP. V.
HE farmer's wife had a daughter of
good parts, who uſed her needle well,
and drefled her doll in good taſte. Thefe
C4
two
40 Voyage to Brobdingnag.
two therefore fitted up the baby cradle for
Gulliver. The girl made him ſeven ſhirts;
and ſhe chiefly inſtructed him in their lan-
guage. When he pointed at any thing,
ſhe told him the name of it, ſo that he
was ſoon able to call for whatever he want-
ed. She gave him the name of Grildrig,
and he called her his Glumdalclitch, or lit-
tle nurſe.
A neighbouring farmer, and a friend of
his maſter's, as I ſhall now call him, hav.
ing heard of Mr. Gulliver, came on a viſit
to know the truth of the ſtory. He was
directly placed upon the table, made a com-
pliment to the gueſt, aſked him how he
did, and told him he was welcome. This
fellow, who was old, pulled out his fpec-
tacles, on which Mr. Gulliver could not help
laughing, for his eyes looked like two full
moons 'fhining into a chamber by night.
The old fellow became very angry at this,
and being a great miſer, adviſed the maſter
to make a public ſhow of poor Gulliver in
all the market towns, to which propoſal he
agreed.
Gulliver was therefore put in a box ana
carried to the next town on the market-day;
and Glumdalclitch, his nurſe, accompanied,
riding
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 41
riding behind her father on a pillion. As
ſoon as they alighted at the inn, Grultrug
the cryer gave notice of a moſt wonderful
animal that was to be ſeen at the Green Ea-
gle, which was not bigger than a mouſe, and
yet was ſhaped like a man, walked upright,
could ſpeak, and perform a hundred divert-
ing tricks.
Gulliver was placed on a table three hun-
dred feet ſquare; and Glumdalclitch fat clo-
ſe by him on a ſtool, to direct him what he
ſhould do. He walked round the table as
She commanded, and anfwered all her que
ſtions as loud as he could: he paid his re-
ſpects to the company, repeated certain
fpeeches, and taking a thimble full of liquor,
drank to their healths. He was tired to death
with repeating theſe ceremonies, having
that day been ſhown to twelve different com-
panies; nay, he was near loſing his life,
for an unlucky boy threw a bazle nut at.
him, which was as big as a pumpion, and
which, had it hit him, muſt have daſhed out
his brains.
His maſter gave publick notice that he
would be exhibited in every city and mar-
ket town throughout the kingdom; and that
he might be conveyed from place to place
C 5
with-
42 Voyage to Brobdingnag.
without harm, his nurſe put her doll's pil-
low into his box to ſerve him as a bed.
The farmer having therefore provided all ne-
ceffuries for a long journey, took leave of
his wife and ſet out for the metropolis. They
made eaſy journies of feventy or eighty
miles a day, ſtepping out of the road as the
towns or villages happened to lie contiguous.
On the 26th of October they arrived at Lor-
brulgrud, and took up their lodgings not
far from the king's palace. Here Gulliver
was Ahown
many times a day, to the won-
der and fatisfaction of every body.
A Nardral, or gentleman uher, came one
day from court, commanding the farmer to
bring Gulliver thither immediately, for the
diverſion of the queen and her ladies, who
were beyond meaſure delighted with his be-
haviour; he fell on his knees and begged
the honour of kiſfing her majeſty's foot; but,
after placing him on the table, ſhe held out
her little finger, which he embraced with
both his arms. She queſtioned him about
his country and his travels, and aſked whe-
ther he could be content to live at court?
He bowed, and anſwered, that he was the
farmer's ſlave; but if his maſter was willing
to fell him, he ſhould be proud to deyote
his
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 43
his life to her majeſty's ſervice. The far.
mer readily agreeing, received a thouſand
pieces of gold on the ſpot.
Gulliver then begged a favour of the
queen, which was, that Glumdalclitch, who
had always attended him with great care and
kindneſs, might be adınitted into her ſervi-
ce likewiſe, and continue to be his nurſe
and inſtructor. Her majeſty agreed to the
petition; and the farmer, who was glad to
have his daughter preferred, went away
very happy.
When the farmer left the room, the queen
carried Gulliver to the king, who, although
he was a philofopher, and a man of learn-
ing, at firſt imagined that ſhe had procured
a piece of clock-work. But when he heard
Gulliver's voice, and found that he ſpoke
rationally, he could not conceal his aſtoniſh-
ment. The queen commanded her own ca-
binet-maker to contrive a box that might
ſerye Gulliver for a bedchamber, and in three
weeks the order was finiſhed. The box
was fixteen feet ſquare and twelve high, with
a door, fath-windows, and two cloſets.
The queen's upholſterer furniſhed a bed; and
a nice workman, famous for little curioſities,
made him a chair and a table, with a ca.
binet
44 Voyage to Brobdingnag.
binet to put his clothes in. He deſired a
lock for his door, to prevent the rats and
mice from devouring him: and the finith,
after ſeveral attempts, made the ſmalleſt that
ever was feen, for it was not larger than
ſuch as are commonly fixed to the gates of
gentlemen's houſes in Europe. The queen
likewiſe ordered him clothes of the thinneſt
ſilks that could be procured, and which in-
deed were very fine, for they were not
thicker than an Engliſh blanket; his clothes
were made after the faſhion of the country,
and were very grave and decent.
At meal-times Gulliver was always feat.
ed cloſe at her majeſty's elbow; at a little
table placed upon that from which ſhe dined.
No perfon dined with them but the two prin-
ceſſes; her majeſty uſed to put a little bit
of meat, not bigger than a leg of mutton,
upon one of his little diſhes, from which he
carved for himſelf, and her diverſion was to
ſee him eat in miniature. The queen her.
felf had but a moderate ftomach, for ſhe fel-
dom took a bit of meat at a mouthful bigger
than a buttock of beef; and her cup of gold
did not hold above a hogſhead, which ſhe
generally took off at a draught.
Every
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 45
Every Wedneſday the king and queen,
with all the royal family, dined together in
his majeſty's apartment. This prince took a
pleaſure in converfing with Gulliver; he en-
quired into the manners, laws, government,
and learning of Europe; and his apprehen-
fion was fo clear, and his judgement fo ex-
act, that he made very wiſe reflections upon
all he heard. Gulliver, however, happen-
ing to be too copious in behalf of his be-
loved country, its trade, grandeur, and wars
by ſea and land, the king could not forbear
taking him up in his right hand, and after
a hearty fit of laughter, obſerved to his firſt
miniſter, who waited behind him, “that
human grandeur was indeed a very contemp-
tible thing, ſince it might be mimicked by
fo diminutive an animal as this is. And yet,
ſaid he, I dare ſay, that theſe creatures have
their titles and diſtinctions of honour, con-
trive little neſts and burrows which they call
houſes and cities, make a figure in dreſs and
equipage, and love to fight, difpute, and
betray."
But nothing angered Gulliver ſo much as
the queen's dwarf, who, being of the low.
eſt ſtature that ever was known in Brobdin-
gnag, for he really was not above thirty
feet
46
Voyage to Brobdingnag.
feet high, became ſo infolent at ſeeing a crea.
ture ſo much beneath him, that he would
ſwagger and look big as he paſſed by him
in the anti-chamber, while he was ſtanding
on fome table, talking with the lords and
ladies of the court; this urchin feldom fail-
ed of a ſmart word or two upon Gulliver's
littleneſs; againſt which he could only reven-
ge himſelf by calling him brother, and chal-
lenging him to box or wreſtle.
One day,
at dinner, this malicious little cub, was ſo
nettled at fomething that Gulliver had faid,
that, railing himſelf on the frame of her ma-
jeſty's chair, he took him up and let him
fall fouce into a bowl of cream, and then
ran away as faſt as he could. Gulliver was
drenched over head and ears; and had he
not been an excellent ſwimmer, he might
probably have been drowned, for the queen
was ſo much terrified that ſhe could not af.
ford any aſſiſtance. But Glumdalclitch, who
was at the farther end of the room, ran to
his aſſiſtance, took him out of the bowl,
and put him to bed. His clothes were en-
tirely ſpoiled. The dwarf was foundly whip-
ped, and was never after reſtored to favour.
This miſchievous urchin had ſerved poor
little Gulliver many other fcurvy tricks; and
once
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 47
once in particular, her majeſty, after pick.
ing a marrow-bone, placed it erect in the
diſh; the little wretch of a dwarf, watching
this opportunity, took Gulliver up in both
hands, and, ſqueezing his legs together,
wedged him into the marrow-bone as high
as his waiſt. His ſtockings and breeches
were in a fad greaſy condition, and the
dwarf was ſeverely puniſhed.
сHAP.
VI.
THE dwarf one day followed Glumdal-
clitch and Gulliver into the garden, and
as he was walking under an apple tree, the
varlet gave it a violent ſhake, by which a
dozen of apples, each of them as big as a
kilderkin of ale, came tumbling about bis
ears, and one of them knocked him down,
flat upon his back.
Another time his tender nurſe left bim
upon a ſmooth graſs plat, while ſhe walked
round the garden with her governeſs; fo
violent a ſhower of hail came ſuddenly on,
that he was ſtruck to the ground; and, when
he was down, he was ſo terribly bemaul..
ed, that he could not go abroad for ten days
after-
48 Voyage to Brobdingnag.
afterwards; nay, had he not had the good
luck to creep under a border of lemon thyme,
in all probability he would have been killed.
But a more dangerous accident happened
foon after. For Glumdalclitch, having left
him careleſsly in the garden, while ſhe took
a walk round with her governeſs as uſual, a
fpaniel belonging to one of the gardeners,
happening to range near the place where he
lay, followed the ſcent, took him up in his
mouth, and then ran wagging his tail to his
maſter. The poor gardener was in a terri.
ble fright; he patted his dog upon the back,
took poor Gulliver out of his mouth, and
then aſked him kindly how he did. This
accident determined Glumdalclitch never to
truſt him out of her fight for the future. Her
reſolution was certainly very prudent, when
we conſider how many other dangerous ac-
tidents befel him. Once, a kite made a ſtoop
at him; and if he had not drawn his hanger,
and run under an eſpalier, in all probabili-
ty he had been taken off. At another time
he funk up to his neck in a mole-hill, and
ſpoiled all his clothes. He alſo once broke
his ſhins againſt the ſhell of a ſnail, over
which he happened to ſtumble, as he was
walking careleſsly along.
It
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 49
It is pleaſant enough to obſerve, that
ſmall birds would hop about him in queft of
food, as unconcerned as if no living creatu-
re was near them; nay, a thruſh had once
the boldneſs to ſnatch a piece of bread and
butter out of his hand. When he attempt.
ed to catch any of theſe birds, they would
audaciouſly turn again in their own defence,
and endeavour to pick his fingers. But one
day he knocked down a linnet with a cud-
gel, which was about the ſize of a ſwan,
and which, by the queen's command, was
drefred for his dinner the next day.
The queen having often heard Mr. Gul-
liver talk about his fea voyages, aſked him
whether he underſtood navigation; and whe.
ther a little exerciſe of rowing might not
be good for his health. He anſwered, that
he underſtood both very well. Whereupon
fhe ordered her joiner to make a boat; and
alſo a large wooden trough, three hundred
feet long, fifty broad, and eight deep;
which being well pitched, was placed in an
outer room of the palace. This, when fil.
led with water, was the great ocean whe-
reon he ſhowed his dexterity; and here he
uſed to row for his own diverſion, as well
as that of the whole court. Whenever he
Vol. II.
D
put
SO l'oyage to Brobdingnag.
put up his fuil, the ladies would give him a
gale with their fans, or the pages would
blow lim forward with their breath, while
he ſhowed his art of ſteering ſtarboard and
larboard, as he thought proper.
Mr. Gulliver, once however, narrowly ef-
caped with his life. One of the clerks of
the kitchen kept a monkey, which one day
obſerving the poor little man in the cloſet,
after fome time ſpent in grinning and chat-
tering, at laſt put in a paw, as a cat does
when ſhe plays with a mouſe, and ſeiling
the lappet of his coat; dragged him out.
The ugly animal held himñ as a nurſe does a
child, and when he offered to ſtruggle, ſhe
ſqueezed him ſo hard, that he thought it
moſt prudent to ſubmit. But, affrighted,
however, at the approach of Glumdalclitch,
the creature ran away with him, and clam-
bered upon the tiles of the palace; the fat
upon the ridge thereof, holding him like a
baby, in one of her fore paws, and feed-
ing him with the other, by cramming into
his mouth ſome victuals ſhe had ſqueezed
out of the bag on one ſide of her chaps,
and patting him on the back when he would
not eat.
Ladders were
now applied and
mounted by ſeveral men; and the monkey
finding
Voyage to Brobdingnag.
SI
finding herſelf encompaſſed, let poor Gulli.
ver drop on a ridge tile, and made her eſca-
pe.
Here he fat for ſome time, almoſt
frighted to death; but at length, one of his
nurſe's footmen climbed up, and putting
him into his breeches pocket, brought him
down ſafe.
Mr. Gulliver had now been two years in
the country of Brobdingnag, and, about
the beginning of the third, Glumdalclitch
and he attended the king and queen in a pro-
greſs to the coaſt of the kingdom. He was
carried as uſual in bis travelling box: and
he had ordered a hammock to be fixed by
ropes to the four corners at the top, to break
the jolts in travelling. When they came to
their journey's end, the king choſe to paſs
a few days at his palace near Flanſacnic, a
city about eighteen Engliſh miles from the
ſea ſide. Poor Glumdalclitch, as well as Gul.
liver, had caught a cold, and the dear girl
was ſo ill that ſhe was confined to her cham-
ber. He longed to ſee the ocean once more,
and therefore pretending to be much worſe
than he really was, deſired leave to take
the freſh air by the ſea fide, with a page
he was very fond of, who had often been
intrufted to look after him. When they
D2
came
52 Voyage to Brovdingnag.
came within half a mile of the ſea, Mr. Gul-
liver ordered the page to ſet him down, and
opening one of the windows, caſt many a
wiſhful look towards the ſea. He found him-
ſelf not very well, and therefore told the
page he would take a nap in bis hammock,
which he hoped would do him good. He
foon fell aſleep; and all that he could con.
jecture was, that in the mean time, the
boy thinking no damage could happen, went
among the rocks to look for birds eggs.
However this might be, he w's ſuddenly
awaked by a violent pull upon the ring which
was faſtened at the top of the box, for the
conveniency of carriage. He thought he felt
his box raiſed very high in the air, and then
borne forward with prodigious fpeed. He
called out ſeveral times, but all to no pur.
poſe. He heard a noiſe over his head like
the clapping of wings, and he began to ima.
gine that ſome eagle had got the ring of his
box in his beak, intending to let it fall on
a rock, like a tortoiſe; and then to pick out
his body, and devour it.
In a little time the flutter of wings ſeem-
ed to increaſe, and his box to be toſſed up
and down like a ſign in a windy day; at laft,
all on a ſudden, he found himſelf falling
down
Voyage to Brobdingnag. 53
down perpendicularly for above a minute,
with ſuch ſpeed as almoſt took away his
breath. The fall was ſtopped by a terrible
ſquaſh, and he now perceived that he was
fallen into the ſea, the eagle having drop-
ped him from his mouth.
How did he lanient his cruel fortune, when
he ſaw the water oozing in at the ſeveral
crannies of his box! As the leaks were not
conſiderable, he endeavoured to ſtop them
as well as he could. He was four hours
under theſe circumſtances, expecting every
moment to be his laſt.
But at length he
heard a grating kind of noiſe on that ſide of
the box where the ſtaples were fixed,
through which, the fervant who uſed to car-
ry him on horſeback, generally put a lea-
thern belt, which he buckled about his waiſt;
and foon after fancied the box was rowed
along in the ſea. This gave him ſome faint
idea of relief; and placing a chair under the
ſhifting board, he mounted it, and called for
help as loud as he poſſibly could. He then
faſtened his handkerchief to his walking ſtick,
and thruſting it up the hole, waved it in
the air, that, if any boat or ſhip were near,
the feamen might take the alarm. In little
better than an hour, that ſide of the box
where
D3
54 Voyage to Brobdingnag.
was in.
where the ſtaples were, ſtruck againſt fome.
thing, and Mr. Gulliver found himſelf tofled
more than ever. He then perceived himſelf
hoiſted up by degrees, on which he again
thruſt up his ſtick and handkerchief, and
called for help; in return to which he heard
a loud fhout, which gave him great joy.
Somebody then bawled out, “If any body
be below, let them fpeak.” Mr. Gulliver
anſwered, that he was an Engliſhman, and
begged to be delivered from the dungeon he
He was informed that he was ſafe,
that his box was faſtened to the ſhip, and
that the carpenter was coming to faw a hole
in the cover large enough to pull him out
at: As ſoon as this was done, they let down
a ladder, upon which he mounted, and was
taken into the ſhip in a very weak condition.
The captain obſerving that he was ready
to faint, took him into his cabin, gave him
a cordial, and adviſed him to take a little
reſt upon his own bed. He flept for ſome
hours, and upon waking, found himſelf
much recovered; the captain ordered ſupper
immediately, entertained him with great
kindneſs, and deſired to know by what
ftrange accident he came to be ſet adrift in
that monſtrous wooden cheſt.
Mr.
Voyage to Brobdingnag. SS
Mr. Gulliver begged the captain's patien-
ce till he told his ſtory, which he faithfully
did. And, as truth always forceth its way,
this worthy gentleman was immediately
convinced of Mr. Gulliver's candour and ve-
racity. But further to confirm all he had
ſaid, he opened a cabinet, which the fea-
men had taken out of his box, and exhibit-
ed a finall collection of the curioſities of
Brobdingnag. There was the comb he had
contrived out of the ſtumps of the king's
beard, and another of the fame materials,
fixed into the paring of her majeſty's thumb
nail, which ſerved for the back. There
was a collection of needles and pins, from
a foot to half a yard long; the ſtings of four
waſps, as big as joiner's tacks; ſome comb-
ings of the queen's hair; and a gold ring,
which one day ſhe made him a preſent of
in a moſt obliging manner, taking it from her
little finger, and throwing it over his head
like a collar. He deſired the captain to ac-
cept of this laſt rarity, as a return for his
civilities, but he abſolutely refuſed. He
ſhowed him a corn, that he had cut from
the toe of a maid of honour, about the big.
neſs of a apple; and laſtly, he deſired him
to
D A
so
Voyage to Brobdingnag.
to obſerve the breeches he had then on,
which were made of a mouſe's ſkin.
Mr. Gulliver could not perſuade the cap-
tain to accept of any thing but a tooth,
which had been drawn from one of Glum.
dalclitch's men, who was afflicted with the
tooth-ach; it was about a foot long, and
four inches in diameter.
The captain was very well fatisfied with
this plain relation, and deſired, that when
Mr. Gulliver returned to England, he would
oblige the world by publiſhing an account
of his ſurpriſing adventures; which he here
does, not only for the amuſement of all the
good little boys and girls of Lilliput and
Brobdingnag, but for thoſe of Great Britain
and Ireland alſo.
PARTICULARS of an EXPEDITION to
the ISLAND of ANGELICA.
GRE
REAT folks may pretend to mighty
diſcoveries they make in their voyages
and travels into foreign parts; but I fee not
why we little ones may not have our ſhare
in ſuch matters: for, ſurely, Maſter Jemmy
Gad-
Voyage to Angelica. 57
Gadabout's voyage to the iſland of Angeli.
ca is of no leſs importance than that of Cap-
tain Cooke to the South Seas, and I will
ſubmit the determination of this matter to
the opinion of thoſe who ſhall read this.
MASTER JEMMY GADABOUT, the only
ſon of an eminent merchant in the city, was
an extraordinary fine boy, and very good;
but was often brought into difficulties, by a
ſhare of curioſity, feldom to be found in
perſons of his age, which was now about
ten. He ſpent all his pocket-money in going
to fee wild beaſts and ſtrange fiſh, and had
more joy in viewing an Indian prince, than
another would have had in eating a ginger-
bread king. He poffefled a great portion of
perſonal bravery; he was the cock of his
feat in the ſchool; neither would he have
refuſed, upon a proper occaſion, to have en-
countered Jack the giant-killer himſelf.
About the year 1741, Mr. Jonathan Gad
about, his father, was preparing to make a
voyage in perſon to the Weſt-Indies; he hay-
ing ſome affairs to ſettle in Jamaica, which
could not be managed without his preſence.
The day before his departure, Maſter Jem-
my, as was his conſtant cuſtom both morn-
ing and evening, came to aſk his papa's
bleſſing,
D 5
58 Voyage to Angelica.
bleſſing, which he did with more than uſual
earneſtneſs; and when he had obtained it,
he remained ſtill on his knees, urging that
he had another favour to aſk. “Name it,
my child, ſays his father.” “Why, it is,
replied he, that I may accompany you to
the Weſt-Indies." Nothing could have ſur-
priſed Mr. Jonathan Gadabout fo much as a
requeſt of this nature, from a child ſo young.
He was, however, determined not to com-
ply with it; but being a very tender parent,
he condeſcended to give him ſome reaſons
for his refuſal. He remonſtrated to him,
that he was by no means able to bear the fa-
tigues of the ocean, or the change of the
climates. He obſerved to him, that ſuch a
ſcheme would be taking him from his books
and teachers, and be ſquandering that time
which, at his age, was particularly pre.
cious.
Theſe things and many more he urged,
to diſſuade our young hero, who neverthe-
lefs, ſtill remained on his knees. He declar.
ed he was not alarmed at any danger, which
he muſt ſhare in common with the beſt of
parents, who, he deſired to recollect, that
he never could be terrified with nonſenſical
ftories of witches and hobgoblins, as naugh-
ty
Voyage to Angelica. 59
ty boys were. As for his books, they
might be ſent on board with him; and, with
regard to his maſter, he could have none
abler or better than his dear papa. In ſhort,
with tears, intreaties, and embraces, he at
length fo wrought on Mr. Jonathan, that he
conſented; and they went on board the
Charming Nancy, and fet fail with a fair
wind.
Every thing went on profperouſly for ſome
days; Maſter Jemmy was not in the leaſt fea-
fick, and clambered up the ropes with the
activity of a ſquirrel. But after their paffing
the channel about a day's voyage, on the
great Atlantic, they ſpied a veffel of an enor-
mous fize, and of a form to fingular, that
they could at no rate gueſs to what coun-
try the belonged; and, to ſay the truth, they
muſt have been conjurors at leaſt to have
found them out; for they were a crew of
Angelicans, thoſe fagacious people whom
nature has not only furniſhed with two eyes
in their foreheads, but with a fupernumera-
ry one on the tip of the righthand middle
finger. By making a proper uſe of this eye,
as Maſter Jemmy afterwards diſcovered, they
can ſee into the hearts of men, which, if
they appear the leaſt pollutéd, render them
inca-
60 Voyage to Angelica.
incapable of being ſubjects to the monarch of
Angelica.
When they came up with the Charming
Nancy; they hoiſted an artificial olive branch,
formed entirely like emeralds, and white
wands compoſed of the pureſt pearl, upon
which Captain Fliprop very rightly conclud.
ed, they intended no violence. They board.
ed the ſhip, however, and upon ſo pear a
view, appeared to be no more than a gigan-
tic fort of Lilliputians, about the ſize of the
fairies in Mr. Garrick's Queen Mab.
The commanding officer ordered all the
Charming Nancy's crew upon deck, and put
the middle finger of his right hand down the
throats of every man, one after another, but
ſhook his head terribly, till he came to Ma-
fter Jemmy, who was the laſt he examin-
ed; and then he cried out, with a voice of
tranſport, Pegill, Pogoſi, which we have
fince learnt ſignifies, he is Spotleſs, and will
do.-Upon which they took Jemmy aboard
their own vefſel from the arms of his weep-
ing father, whom we muſt leave, at preſent,
to accompany his ſon to Cherubinium, the
capital city of the kingdom of Angelica , an
iſland in the Golden Ocean.
C
This
Voyage to Angelica.
61
This city is built on the ſummit of a hill,
which overlooks the ſea.
As the country
round it abounds with the fineſt marble, gold,
diamonds, rubies, and other precious ſtones,
it is no wonder the buildings ſhould be more
fuperb and grand than any thing the gentle
reader can conceive. The ſtreets are fpa-
cious; their publick ſtructures, and indeed
all their houſes are lofty, and nobly deſign-
ed; and as the outer walls are marble and
jáſper, the window frames ſtudded with dia-
monds, and the roofs, inſtead of tiling, over-
laid with ſheets of pure gold, the city,
when the fun thines, makes a glorious ap-
pearance, and when you are at fea, has a
moſt ſurpriſing effect. Cherubinium is fur-
rounded with orange and citron groves, over-
topped with ſeveral rows of ftately pines at
a diſtance; and, to render the place more
romantic and amazing, nature has formed
two large cataracts, one on each ſide the
city, which pour their cryſtal ſtreams down
the hill with great rapidity; and the noiſe
of thoſe waterfalls, when ecchocd back by
the diſtant woods, is more entertaining than
the moſt harmonious muſic.
Between theſe cataracts, and juſt oppofi-
te the ſouth gate of the city, is a large ba-
fon,
62 Voyage to Angelica,
fon, made for their ſhipping, with a good
quay, on which Maſter Jemmy was landed.
No ſooner was our young traveller afhore,
but he was ſurrounded by a croud of ſpecta-
tors, who all behaved to him with great po.
liteneſs, and ſeemed highly delighted with
the figure he made, having never ſeen ſuch
a creature before. I forgot to inform my
reader, that Mr. Jonathan Gadabout, before
he parted from his ſon, took care to fill both
his fob-pockets with money, to ſecure him
from want; which piece of paternal affection
had almoſt coſt poor Jemmy his life. It is
a maxim with the Angelicans, that no man
ſhould ſecure to himſelf more of any thing
than he has occaſion for, and eſpecially if
he knows it will be ſerviceable to another:
for they ſay a man's carrying more money
than he wants, is as abſurd as a man's wear-
ing two great coats. By means of this ma-
xim, which is carried into execution by a
law, the Angelicans have all neceſſaries in
common, and there is no ſuch thing as a beg-
gar to be found in their ſtreets. Now when
Mafter Jemmy came to be examined and
ſearched, as the cuſtom is in that country,
and money being found in both his pockets,
he was ſuſpected of having a bad heart,
and
Voyage to Angelica. 63
and this queſtion was put to him, viz.
» Whether there were not ſeveral perſons of
his own country on board his ſhip that had
none?” Jemmy anſwered in the affirmative,
and all the people cried out Cog ma Gootha!
Cog ma Gootha! that is in Engliſh, Let him
ſuffer! let him ſuffer! upon which Maſter
Jemmy was thrown into a priſon, where
he endured innumerable hardſhips; for the
gaulers there are not like thoſe in England,
they would not accept of any bribe to lef-
ſen his confinement, or to remove his chains;
but behaved to him in all reſpects, as their
law directed.
Mafter Gadabout, after being confined
about a month, was taken very ill, which
being made known to the magiſtrates by
the gaolers, who are in that country migh-
ty honeſt good people, a phyſician was or-
dered to attend him. The phyſicians of
Angelica do not affect an unintelligible jar-
gon of unmeaning fyllables, to give a high
opinion of their knowledge, as is cuſtom-
ary in ſome other countries, nor do they
ever deſtroy their patients by an inundation
of phyſic; what they principally regard is
the nature of the diſorder, and the conſti-
tution of the patient; and towards a true in-
veſtiga-
64
Voyage to Angelica.
veſtigation of both theſe, the eye at the end
of the middle finger doth not a little con-
tribute.
As ſoon as the doctor had thruſt his
eye.
finger down Jemmy's throat, he turned to
the magiſtrates, and delivered himſelf in the
following manner.
“ This patient has heretofore uſed a great
deal of exerciſe, and fince his confinement
here has been in a ſtate of indolence, by
which means the tubes and glands, or pi-
pes and ſtrainers, whereof the body is com-
pofed, being deprived of their uſual activi-
ty or motion, are as it were ruſted over,
like the wheels of a jack for want of uſe;
you muſt therefore calbolade him; but give
him no other phyſic.
Mafter Jemmy was very earneſt to know
what phyſick they would prepare for him,
and often made figns to the nurſe for his
medicines; but inſtead of pills, potions, bo.
luſſes, draughts, lotions, and liniments, he
was ſurpriſed to fee four of the ſtrongeſt An-
gelicans enter the next morning with a blan-
ket; however amazed as he was, they
threw him in, and carrying him up to the
funny ſide of the hill, there firſt ſwung him,
and after tbat tofled him gently, till he was
in
Voyage to Angelica. 66
in a profuſe fweat, and then being wrapped
up in the blanket, he was again conveyed
home to his own bed.
Jemmy the next morning complained that
he was cold, which the doctor being inform-
ed of, ordered fo large a parcel of billet-
wood into his apartment, that you would
have thought he had intended to burn down
the whole houſe, and, on that ſcore Jem-
my was in ſome pain; but when ſigns were,
made for him to carry this wood up ſtairs,
and lay it in the room above, his fears di-,
ſperſed, and finding himſelf fufficiently warm.
ed, and much better for the exerciſe, he
every day, during his confinement, carried
the ſame wood up ſtairs and down, till he
was both warmed and weary, and by that
means foon recovered both his health and
ſtrength.
Maſter Jemmy's good behaviour foon re:
leafed him from his confinement, and he was
treated with all the civility imaginable. He
was permitted to wander where he pleaſed
on this delightful iſland, and received the
greateſt civility from every one.
One morning, as he was taking his walks
over theſe finely enamelled meadows, he
came to a clear tranſparent ſtream, whoſe
VOL. II.
E
limpid
66 Voyage to Angelica.
limpid waters bubbled along over a fine gra.
velly bottom, about three feet from the ſur.
face. As he had been accuſtomed to bathe
in his father's bath, he determined to enjoy
the pleaſure of this delightful ſtream. He
undrefled himſelf, and jumped into the mid-
dle of it. When, lo! for it is ſtrange to tell,
in an inſtant, he found himſelf in his bed in
the cabbin, by the fide of his father, on
board the good fhip Charming Nancy. For
all this mighty affair of his going on board
the Angelican fhip, his impriſonment, and
his wandering over the iſland, was nothing
more than a dream, from which he had been
waked by part of a wave which, fome how
or other, found its way to his cabin, and
daſhed over him as he lay aſleep.
It was, however, a moral dream, and
carries with it this uſeful leſion, that chil-
dren ſhould prefer learning, wiſdom, and
prudence, to all the gaudy appearances of
this life, and that money, merely of itſelf,
cannot purchaſe a good name.
The
67
The Journey of Old ZIGZAG.
Containing bis Obſervations on Men, Beaſis,
and Birds.
IT
'may be neceſſary for me, young Gul.
liver, as compiler of this valuable collec-
tion, to acquaint my little Maſters and Mif-
fes, that old Zigzag was my tutor in my
infant days, and that all the knowledge I
have acquired was from this venerable gent-
leman, I ſhall only add, that I undertook
this journey with old Zigzag when I was
only five years of age; and having ſaid thus
much, I ſhall now proceed.
Before we got a mile out of town, Zig-
zag informed me, that he promiſed himſelf
much pleaſure on this journey; for, as the-
re were many birds on the road, he had
put his horn in his pocket to know what
they ſaid to each other.
The firſt birds we ſaw were two mag-
pies, at which he gazed ſome time, and
they at him; at laſt one of the birds turn-
ed to the other, and ſaid, “Come, let us
fly farther”, and as they flew away, “I wiſh,
fays Mag, that blockhead would mind his
E 2
own
68 Journey of Old Zigzag.
own buſineſs, and let our's alone." Upon
which he told me, they had called him block-
head for his curioſity, and that the magpie
was the moſt impertinent of all, birds.
Soon after this, he heard a great chirp-
ing and chattering in a buſh, and going up,
and applying his horn, he found it was a
parcel of goldfinches, comforting a mother
who had loſt her young ones. "See, ſays
one of them, how wickedly theſe tyrants
of men breed up their children; theſe wic-
ked boys have pulled down the neſt, and
deſtroyed all the little ones, even before
they were fledged. See where the dear
babies lie. Raiſe and ſupport the poor mo-
ther, wretched creature, her heart is brok:
en, ſhe is dying with grief! Oh, how mer-
cileſs are mankind!”
Zigzag, dropped a tear, and trudging for:
ward faw a fetting dog, pointing to a pa.
tridge, which 'addreſſed him in this manner.
“ Are not you both a cruel and a filly crea-
ture, Mr. Dog, to ſeek a life wbich has
done no harm, and which can do you no
ſervice? When I am taken, what will you
be the better for it? Your maſter is him-
ſelf too fond of a delicious morſel, to gi-
ve you any portion of my body when dref:*
ſed;
Journey of Old Zizag.
69
ſed; and as you know and felt, for I ſaw
him whip you unmercifully, that he is a
tyrant to us all, why ſhould you be folici.
tous in promoting his dominion? Is there,
among all the creatures, one ſo favage as
man, or ſo fooliſh and abſurd in his actions?
Among the inhuman race, one creature in-
deed will deſtroy another; but they do not
deſtroy their own fpecies. Yet man, more
ſavage man, has no mercy on his own race,
but brings an hundred thouſand from one
part of a country, to deſtroy an hundred
thouſand of another without any apparent
neceſſity. Your race, Mr. Dog, are as ra-
venous as moſt, yet I never heard that the
dogs of Iſlington went in a body to deſtroy
the dogs at Newington; or that the maſtiffs
came from Wales, or from Scotland, to
deſtroy their own ſpecies in England, or
that thoſe in England, went to deſtroy them;
yet of this piece of folly their maſters have
been frequently guilty.” The dog bluſhed,
hung down his head, and faid, he ſaw the
force of the argument; “but, ſays he, my
maſter is ſo cruel; that if I don't help to
murther you for his dinner, I ſhall not get
even a piece of carrion for my own.'
E 3
Going
70 Journey of Old Zigzag.
Going a little farther, he ſaw a bee, ſip-
ping the ſweet netar of an honey-ſuckle,
and a waſp ſtanding by, which the bee thus
accoſted:
“What a lazy loon you are, Mr. Waſp,
and how like a fop you flutter about, with-
out endeavouring to get any thing to fup.
port you in the winter.
It is not very
commendable, to lounge thas, and live upon
the labours of others.” “ Ah! Mr. Bee, re-
plied the walp, you are not the wiſeft crea-
ture in the world, though you think ſo; I
admire, indeed your form of government,
and the regulation in your ſtate, and ſhould
equally applaud your induſtry, was you to
reap the benefit of it: but that is not the
caſe. Your property is not your own; for
the thief will come in the night, that ty-
rant man, will ſteal on you in the dark,
and murder you, and ſet fire to your houſe,
in order to rob you of your food. Under
the dominion of tyrants, property is never
ſecure; nay, it only ſerves to bring one
the fooner to deſtruction, which is the rea-
ſon that we labour not, and we feel the
good effects of our idleneſs; for as we have
nothing to loſe, ſo no one deſtroys us for
plunder. The poor may walk ſafely in the
night,
Journey of Old Zigzag.
71
night, or even ſleep in the ſtreet; but the
rich are obliged to keep watch, and faften
their gates and doors.” “This, if true,
ſays the bee, is poor encuragement to the
induſtrious," and flying away to the hive,
whither Zigzag hobbled after with bis horn,
ſhe told this dreadful news to the queen.
Her majeſty hummed for ſome time, and
then raiſing herſelf with fuperior dignity
ſhe thus replied:
“This ſtory, my dear, may be invented,
by the waſp, in ſupport of his own lazineſs;
for every fool finds an excuſe for his fol.
ly. I have heard, indeed, that men former-
ly have burnt the hive of our forefathers,
in order to ſteal their victuals; but I cannot
believe they were either ſo wicked or ſo fool-
iſh; becauſe, by putting another hive over
what they lived in, and a light underneath,
they might have driven them out of their old
dwelling into the new one, and, after tak.
ing the honey, by giving them a little ſu-
gar, have preſerved them to toil for more
honey the next year; it is not, therefore,
their intereſt to murther us.
Go again
to your labour, and never believe that man
can be either ſo wicked or fo fooliſh, as
to do what is inconſiſtent both with his in-
tereſt
!
E 4
72 Journey of Old Zigzag,
tereſt and his duty. “Ah, ſays Zigzag, ma-
dam queen, how little do you know of
mankind. Your ſcheme of preſerving the
live bees is indeed a good one; but we have
neither prudence nor humanity enough to
put it in execution.
Poor creatures, I pity
your fate,” and down fell a tear.
At this inſtant came by a fine ox, who
looked as if he had been well fed, but was
in a very melancholy mood, for he fixed his
eyes upon the ground, and did nothing but
grumble as he went along. Amoo, amoo,
amoo, moo, moo, moo, moo, hau! ſays
he to himſelf, while a barbarous fellow
walked behind him, and kept continually
goading him with a nail fixed into a pole,
or beating him about the hocks, with a
ſtick, which had a knob at the end of it.
This cruel treatment, excited compaſſion
in a poet, who, as he paffed along, cried
out,
1
1
Ah! the poor ox,
That harmleſs, honeſt, guiltleſs animal,
In what has he offended? He whore toil,
Patient, and ever ready, clothes the fields
Whith all the pomp of harveſt; ſhall he biced,
And wreſtling groan beneath the cruel hands
Even of the clown he feeds?
“ Mind
!
Journey of Oid Zigzag. 73
rant ye.
“Mind your buſineſs, ſays the ſurly fel.
low, I know what I have to do, I'll war-
You have few ſuch oxen as this,
I believe, at Parnaſſus." "That is a truth,
ſays Zigzag, but impertinently thrown in,
firrah. Fame indeed is the only food they
have in Parnaſſus, and that makes the inha-
bitants look ſo meagre. Even Apollo, the
lord of the manor, can fhoot no partridges
there. Fame is a ſlender diet: yet this is
more than our critics will allow the poor
poets; for they treat them as cruel carmen
do their horſes, expect more from them
than they are able to perform, and then
laſh them for the defect." Zigzag, obſerv-
ing that the poor ox muttered and moaned
as he went along, ſtepped up with his horn,
to know what he ſaid. Amoo, amoo, amoo,
ſays the poor animal, that is, “Ay, I know
what you would be at.
I have ploughed
your ground for you, got in your corn,
carried it to market, and done all I could
to make you happy, and now you are go.
ing to murther me, as you did my father
and mother, my brother and ſiſters, and my
grandfather and grandmother. Inhuman crear
tures as ye are!” Zigzag, a little ftung
with this laſt expreſlion, which ſeemed a
reproach
E 5
74
Fourney of Old Zigzag.
reproach upon his own ſpecies, bid him go
along, and not be abuſive; “Theſe com-
plaints, ſays he, will do you no ſervice.
You muſt be killed, and all your generation;
for you were made for the uſe of man.
“So you all ſay indeed, replied the ox; but
I can fee no reaſon for it.
You men are
but tenants of the earth as well as we; and
I don't know why one creature ſhould not
live as well as another. I have provided
meat enough for you. Go, eat the corn,
and the turnips and potatoes I have planted,
and drink fifter Cicely's milk, and let me
alone, can't ye? or, if I muſt die, don't let
me be tortured. Take this wicked fellow from
my heels, that treats me ſo cruelly.” “Nay,
ſays Zigzag, you need not complain much
of that. How many have your brothers and
fifters deſtroyed of mine, when they have
ran out of Smithfield, and pretended to be
mad?” “That was, replied the ox, from a
juſt reſentment of your cruelty and your
crimes, They avenged themſelves on you,
becauſe after they had ſerved you honeſtly
and faithfully, you were ſo ungrateful and
cruel as to torture them to death. But how-
ever highly provoked with you, I will an-
fwer for my whole race, that in their height
of
Journey of Old Zigzag. 75
of deſtraction they never hurt any other
animal; fo juſt are we in our dealings.
Very true, very true, ſays Zigzag, and throw-
ing down his horn: the creature's com-
plaints, ſays he, are juſt, and his arguments
unanſwerable. I have obſerved, that in their
fits of deſtraction they never gored a horſe,
a ſheep, or any other animal; but their
whole reſentment is directed againſt us alo.
ne, who are their tormentors; and this con-
vinces me, that man, proud, imperious,
cruel man, is the moſt unjuſt of all animals.
Zigzag ſpoke this with great emotion,
and was retiring from the hateful fcene, whe
he unfortunately fell over a mole-hill, on
which was an emmet's neſt. Some of the
ants, provoked at the injury he had done
them, ſtung him on the hand, which awak.
ened his curioſity, and turning round, he
cried, what creature is there, ſo little as
not to contend for it's life and property ?
He perceived, that he had made great ha-
vock among a parcel of innocent animals,
who were labouring hard for the winter.
Upon this he catched up his horn, and plac-
ed it to his ear; when he was amazed at
the tumult he had cauſed in their innocent
republic, and to hear the wiſe orders which
were
76
Journey of Old Zigzag.
Lead in my
were given by the ants on the occaſion.
Clear away that rubbiſh, ſays one, mend
that baſtion, repair that counterſcarp, build
this courtin. Oh, my poor children! ſay's
another, my children are deſtroyed. How
wrethed am I! I am undone.
poor father, fays a third; oh! my mother
is expiring. When Zigzag heard and ſaw
this, he cried out with aſtoniſhment, "How
great is the power of God! How wonder-
ful the works of creation!” And when he
perceived with what art the little creatures bit
the grain, to prevent its vegetating or grow-
ing in the earth, and then bore home burthens
much bigger and heavier than themſelves,
he cried, in the words of Solomon, “Go to
the ant, thou fluggard, confider her ways,
and be wiſe.” “Conſider her ways, you boo-
by, ſays one of the ants, and take care how
you tread for the future.
Had you regard
ed your own ſteps, you would not have
tumbled on our city, you great looby, and
have deſtroyed ſo many of our inhabitants. »
In a meadow juſt by, Zigzag obſerved
a poor little jack-aſs, almoſt ſtarved, which
an unlucky freſh-coloured boy was throw-
ing ſtones at. The aſs retreated as Ajax did
from the field of battle; and how that was,
my
Journey of Old Zigzag. 77
my dear friend, you will know when you
come to read Homer, in ſhort, he diſputed
every inch of ground with the booby that
beat him, and juſt as Zigzag lifted up his
horn, the aſs ſhook off the duſt from his rag.
ged coat at the lad, and cried, “You are
my foſter brother; but are not you an un-
grateful puppy? When you was fick, and
in diftreſs, my mother was your nurſe and
your doctor. I gave up my milk, and al-
moſt ftarved myſelf to ſave you from deftruc.
tion, and this is the grateful return which
you make to a relation and benefactor.”
The drollery of this diſpute made Zigzag
laugh; but a circumſtance which happened
afterwards gave him infinite uneaſineſs; for
cock that had long and faithfully ſerved his
maſter; that had for many years punctual.
ly called him up in the morning; that had
fed him with good eggs end plenty of chi,
ckens to his bacon and greens, was ſet up
by this very man, whom he had fo effen-
tially ſerved, to be murthered by inches,
the murtherer paying two-pence three
throws; and which, after being diſabled in
his body, and having both his legs broken,
the inhuman maſter propped up with ſticks
to be ftill pelted. Yet when the conflict
was
78
Journey of Old Zigzag.
was over, and the poor animal was drag,
ged from the bloody field, he chearfully
crowed. Ah! what doſt thou crow for,
ſays Zigzag, ſeeing thy condition is fo mi.
ferable!" "I crow, ſaid the cock, becauſe
though I have ſuffered I am innocent, and
rejoice becauſe I am not ſo ungrateful and
wicked as my maſter."
In a meadow hard by, where there was
plenty of good grafs, Zigzag ſaw a very
poor horſe running backwards and forwards,
and at times creeping iuto the hedges,
in.
ſtead of filling his belly; upon which he took
up his horn, and accoſted him in the lan-
guage of the Houhnhms. Dobbin, or Ball,
or whatever thy name may be, ſays he,
why doſt thou friſk about in this manner,
ſeeing thy ſides are lean, and I know that
thou art hungry?” “Ah! fir, quoth the
poor animal, in the language of the Houhn-
hms, I ſhould be glad to feed, indeed; but
my wiſe maſter, whoſe pride ſpurs him up
to mend the work of the Almighty, has
cut off my tail, that fence which Providen-
ce gave me againſt the flies, and inſtead of
filling my belly, I am conſtrained, though
tired and hungry, to run thus from my
enemies."
In
Journey of Old Zigzag. 79
In a field at fome diſtance, a team of
horſes were at plough, ſweating and lan-
guiſhing under the intolerable heat of the day,
while their drivers often ſtopped to refreſh
themfelves with excellent cyder. It is ve.
ry hard, ſays Jolly to his brother White,
foot, that we cannot get a drop of that good
water yonder. - Ah! ſo it is, replied Whi-
te-foot, theſe blockheads never think of
us!- It is a fad thing to be a farmer's horſe,
ſays Diamond; if we had drawn a road wag.
gon, or run in a ſtage coach, we ſhould
have been watered twice ſince we have been
out, even if it had coſt two-pence; but the.
fe farmers have no compaſſion, and always
imitate their fathers, even in their ſtupidi.
ty.--Zigzag, who overheard this, ſtepped
up to the fore horſe, and aſked, in the lan-
guage of the Houhnhms, why he did not
refent the driver's ill treatment? “So I
fhould, maſter, quoth the horſe, if I was
furniſhed with a whip and ſpur, as he is;
but condemned as I am to ſervitude and
torture, it is to no purpoſe to kick and be
reſtive. The fool my maſter will pay for
it in the end; for if, while we are at work,
he had generoſity enough to beſtow on us
a little water, which would coſt bim no-
thing,
so Journey of Old Zigzag.
1
poor horſes.
thing, we ſhould be able to do him more bu.
fineſs in the day, and live to ſerve him
many years longer. But this the booby does
not think of, though he ſees it practiſed eve.
ry day, by the waggoners, coachmen and
others, who travel the road.” Zigzag was
out of patience with the driver, and im-
mediately called out, “Blunderbuſs, juſt as
the bottle was up at his mouth, you wet
your own whiſtle, firrah, but forget your
One would imagine, that
when you are ſo thirſty yourſelf, you would
think of them. Sappoſe you were a horſe,
how would you like this treatment? “Not
at all, maſter, ſays the ploughman, and now
I think on't, fhoot off Tom, cried he to the
boy, and take them to the water;" which
was done, and the whole team thanked Zig-
zag, in a language that nobody underſtood
but himſelf. Going a little farther, he ſaw
ſome rooks on a tree quarrelling, as he at
firſt thought; but when he came mithin hear-
ing, it was only the old rooks talking to
their young ones, whom they thus admo-
niſhed: “Come get up Flapſy, get up Waf-
ty, get up Peckſey, fly away and ſeek for
food for yourſelves; what, do you think
your poor old father and mother are to feed
you
Journey of Old Zigzag. 81
you for ever?" "Dear mother, ſays one, I
don't know how to fly; - then come with
me and learn, ſays gaffer rook. - I am not
ſtrong enough to fly, papa, ſays another,
get up and try, ſays gammer rook, exerciſe
will make you ſtronger.-"Ay, ay, buſtle
my boys, buſtle, ſays the old gentleman,
and learn to get your bread; nature never
intended that ſuch hulky blades as you ſhould
live in idleneſs. We have no maſter rooks
and madam crows to lounge about and live
upon the labours of others. Work and be
ſtrong, was a rule with your old grandfa-
ther, and he taught it me early. You may
ſee what comes of idleneſs by looking at the
great houſe here, where they are always ill
of the gout, or the head-ach, or ſome tan-
trum or other. They are ill becauſe they
will not work and be well: but the people
at the farmhouſe, who get up early and
work hard, have no gouts or head-achs but
what they whiſtle off in the fields. Come
boys, buſtle! buſtle! You have wings to fly,
a bill to peck, and claws to ſcratch, as well
as your poor mother and me: fly, ſcratch,
and peck, my boys, and get your bread,
there's good children." So out he ſent them,
but left the neſt for them to return to,
VOL. II.
F
caſe
in
82 Journey of Old Zigzag.
caſe of an accident; for it is a law with the
rooks, never to leave their young till they
can get their food, and then they never fuf-
fer them to be idle.
The next object which preſented itſelf
among the birds was a poor turtle dove,
whoſe mate had juſt been ſhot by a very
Daughty boy, or a very wicked man; for
furely it muſt be wicked to deſtroy thoſe
innocent animals, who take nothing from
us for their ſupport, and yet entertain us
with their company, and with the beſt me.
lody they can make.
It is impoſſible to
deſcribe the diſtreſs of the poor little crea-
ture that remained. She was fugitive and
alone, and the dying cooes of her beloved
mate dwelt for ever on her ear; at laſt in
ſadneſs the ſung the following dirge, and
died on the ſpot, where her dear companion
and partner in life had made his exit.
« How cruel is man,
How deceitful his art ;
To rob a poor bird,
Of the half of her heart!
To rob a poor bird, &c. &c.
Ah! he is no more,
Who liv'd with me on high!
He's ſlain, he is gone,
And I follow, I die.
He's Hair, be is gone, &c."
Hay.
.
Journey of Old Zigzag. 83
4
Having warbled out theſe ſentiments in
the moſt melancholy notes imaginable, the
dropped from the the ſpray and expired.
We are told, that the frequent complaints
which animals made of the cruelty of man.
kind, put old Zigzag fo out of humour with
his own ſpecies, that he burnt bis horn in
order to hear no more of the matter.
It is certain that all animals are fufcep-
tible of pain and pleaſure as well as we;
and capable of expreſſing thoſe ſenſations to
us, tho' they cannot communicate others;
which is a kind of proof, that Providence
provided them with thoſe notes, and enabled
us to underſtand them, that they might cry
to us for help, and that we might hear and
relieve them. The notes of a bird finging
for joy, or ſcreaming when in danger, or
in pain, are amazingly different, and are by
us eaſily underſtood; but we know nothing
of thoſe whiſpers, cooings, and agreements
they make about building their nefts, breed-
ing up their families, and migrating in flocks
from one country to another. Yet it is
certain, that they talk together in a langua-
ge which both they and their young per-
fectly underſtand, otherwiſe how could the
ſwallows, martins, woodcocks and other
birds,
F
84
Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
birds, agree to meet together, and make ex-
curſions in the air from time to time, to try
the ſtrength of their young, and then depart
into a foreign climate, when they find them
bold of wing and fit for flight?
Theſe things are unknown to us; but this
we know, that they are our fellow-tenants
of the globe; and that we ought to be kind
to thoſe that are innocent, and do not mean
to hurt us; and if we kill ſuch as are noxious
and endanger our fafety, we are to do it
without torture: “The merciful man, faith
Solomon, is merciful to his beaft;" but the
wiſe and benevolent man is an admirer of all
the works of creation, and endeavours to
promote the happineſs of every living crea-
ture.
The Voyages and TRAVELS of Mas-
TER TOMMY GOODLUCK.
MASTER Tommy Goodluck was the
ſon of a wealthy merchant, who with
reputation had acquired a large fortune in the
mercantile way; but, having met with ſome
unexpected lofles, he determined to make
one
Voyage of Tormy Goodluck.
85
one more voyage in perfon, in order to re.
cover that loſs, and thus to quit buſineſs en:
tirely. Tommy was then but ten years of
age, and had had the inisfortune to loſe his
mama a few months before. Mr. Goodluck
was very fond of his ſon, and reſolved ra.
ther to run the danger of taking his fon with
him, than leave him to the care of any re.
lation.
Mr. Goodluck accordingly fet fail for Ja-
maica, accompanied by his fon, who had
always been a very good boy, obeyed all
his papa's commands, and willingly did
whatever he was bidden. He loved every
body, and was beloved by every body.
Young as he was, he gave ſtrong proofs of
a very diſcerning genius, and every one fo-
retold, that he would one day or other beco-
me a great man.
The firſt thing Tommy did, as ſoon as
he was got on board the ſhip, and was left
alone by himſelf in the cabbin, was to fall
down on his knees, and to pray to God for
a favourable paffage, not ſo much on his
own account, as for the fafety of his dear
papa,, whom he loved better than himſelf.
* As for myſelf, ſaid he, I care not; for
ſhould the waves ſwallow me up, death in-
F 3
deed
86 Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
deed will take away my life; but fome an-
gel will carry me into the boſom of my
mama, and ſhe and I will employ ourſelves
in making for my papa crowns of roſes that
never fade againſt he ſhall come to us."
Every thing ſeemed to promiſe a ſpeedy
and pleaſant voyage, as the wind continued
to blow from the proper quarter; but they
had no ſooner entered the Gulph of Mexico,
than a terrible ſtorm aroſe, which blew them
with great fury towards the Spaniſh Main,
and fo terribly dark was the weather, that
they could not ſee whither they were going.
After ſome days being thus forced to run
before the wind, in the middle of the night,
they ſtruck upon a rock, and there ſtuck
faſt.
Tommy was then in the cabbin, when
his papa came down to him, and thus ad-
dreſſed him: “My dear Tommy, keep up
your ſpirits; for though I fear we are loſt to
this world, yet we may be aſſured of meet-
ing in the next with your dear mama: the-
re neither ſtorms nor hurricanes are to be
dreaded, for every thing is there peace,
happineſs, and tranquillity.” Tommy was
unable to ſpeak, but threw his arms round
his papa's neck, and while the tears ſtole
down
Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
87
down his cheeks, he affected to put on a
ſmile of content. Mr. Goodluck could not
bear this; but, diſengaging himſelf from
Tommy, he left him, and ran upon deck,
to give the beſt advice in his power.
Tommy now heard a terrible noiſe in eve.
ry part of the ſhip: ſome were, like Tom-
my, praying, and calling upon God for his
aſſiſtance, fome were uſing the moſt naugh.
ty expreſſions, and others were drinking
all the ſpirituous liquors they could get at,
frying, they would go to the bottom mer-
riy. But, in about two hours time, he
heard not a ſingle voice; for all, he ſuppor-
ed, were waſhed over board, and drowned
in the ſea.
The ſtorm, however, abated with the
approach of morning; and, as the water
began to come very faſt into the cabbin, he
determined to venture on deck, and ſee what
was become of his dear papa. What a ter-
rible fight was now before him! He faw
the ſhip parting in pieces, and not a ſoul
left on board, or any land in fight! He cal-
led aloud on the naine of his dear papa;
but no papa anſwered. He was going to
leap into the ſea, and put an end to his
woes; but he recollected part of his papa's
F 4
laſt
88 Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
1
laſt words to him, Keep up your Spirits,
and he determined to obey him even in this.
While he was conſidering with himſelf
what he could do for his fafety, the ſhip
went to pieces, and from one part of it
came out a little boat, into which he imme-
diately jumped; for, fortunately, it came
cloſe to the rock.
Scarcely had he got into the boat, than
the ſhip went totally to pieces, and diſpers-
ed different ways.
Judge, my little rea-
ders, how deplorable was Tommy's fate at
this time! His mama was dead, and he had
no reaſon to ſuppoſe but his papa was ſo
too. No friend in the world to aſſiſt him,
while alone in a little boat without oars or
fails, without even bread or freſh water,
and in the midſt of a wide ocean, in ſight
of no land! You little folks, who fit by the
fide of your parents, and enjoy all the plea-
fures of life under their protection, pray
to God that you may never be expoſed to
dangers like theſe, and be always thankful
to the hand that tenderly feeds and nou-
riſhes you.
In this forlorn ſituation, Tommy attered
no complaints, and only ſaid, “My God,
thy will be done." A gentle gale now
ſprung
I
Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
89
ſprung up, which carried the boat before it,
and Tommy foon loft fight of both the wreck
and the rock. The ſun ſhone out bright,
the heat of which much fatiguing him, he
pulled off his coat, and covering his head
and part of his body as well as he could
with it, he laid himſelf down at the bottom
of the boat; in which ſituation, from the
fatigue he had undergone, he ſoon fell
aſleep.
The boat continued to keep moving be-
fore the wind, which then blew on to the
ſhore of the Spaniſh Maiņ.
Though Tom.
my had not been able to diſcover land, yet
it was much nearer than he was aware of.
As the boat approached the land in the even-
ing, it was diſcovered by ſome of the na.
tive Indians, who uſed every endeavour to
fave it from being overſet by the ſurges of
the ſea, and at laſt hauled it to land.
On looking into the boat, they ſaw po-
thing in it but poor Tommy faſt alleep, ſo
greatly had fatigue overcome him. Theſe
Indians are what we are generally taught to
call Savages; but theſe favages had in them
more humanity than perhaps we ſhould find
in many Chriſtians on the like occaſion.
And here I muſt beg leave to remind my
F 5
little
90 Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
little pupils and readers, that they hould
not accuſtom themſelves to liſten to any idle
report to the diſadvantage of any one, nor
to think ill of any one, till their parents
ſhall bave aſſured them, that ſuch people
are guilty of naughty actions.
As the boat was very ſmall, they took
it up with Tommy in it, without waking
him, and carried him to their but. Here
one employed himſelf in preparing fome-
thing to refreſh him againſt he waked, while
another went out and collected a great num-
ber of plaintain leaves, which they careful-
ly ſtrewed in one corner of the hut, and
ſpread thereon the beſt blankets they had,
in order to make him a tolerable bed. The
old Indian, who was father of that tribe,
wept over poor Tommy while he was aſleep,
and thus ſaid to himſelf: “Alas! I had once
a ſon as young and tender as thou art;
but the unmerciful Chriſtians ſtole bim from
me, and ſold bim as a ſlave in ſome foreign
parts. But Indians thirſt not after gold; for,
as the purſuit of it is the ſource of nothing
but miſery and wretchedneſs, that purſuit
is confined only to Chriſtians.
But I, an
Indian, and a favage as they call me, will
Rourish and take care of thee, and, if poſſi.
ble,
Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
91
ble, reſtore thee to the arms of thy hapleſs
parents."
While the Indian was thus ſpeaking,
Tommy awoke, and, ſtarting up, ſtared
around him, if I may be allowed the ex-
preſſion, like a ſtuck pig. He was terrib-
ly affrighted, as he did not doubt but they
would kill him and eat him; but he was
much miſtaken: the Indian caught him in
his arms, and by ſigns, for Tommy did not
underſtand their language, made him fenfible
he had nothing to fear. They then made
Tommy ſit down to what they had provid.
ed for him, and never did he make before
ſo hearty a meal. When he had finiſhed his
fupper, they ſhowed him his bed, and re-
tired from the cabbio.
As ſoon as he was left alone, be fell on
his knees, and thanked his good God for his
great deliverance, not doubting but that he,
who had thus miraculouſly delivered bim
from death, had taken equal care of his dear
рара.
Tommy lived among this innocent and
friendly people for near three months, in
the courſe of which time he had learned
their language, and became acquainted with
all their cuſtoms and manners. It is there
fore
92
Voyage of Toning Goodluck.
fore natural to fuppoſe, that he made them
acquainted with the hiſtory of his inisfor-
tunes, and particularly that, the greateſt of
all, of being feparated from his dear papa.
An aſſembly of the whole tribe was called,
when it was unanimouſly agreed to conduct
him to the Deareſt fea-port, and there put
him on board the firſt Spaniſh ſhip that ſhould
be bound for Europe.
As Tommy was ſuppoſed incapable of
walking ſo many leagues as it was to even
the neareſt ſea-port, they faſtened a few
boards together in a ſquare form, with a
kind of handle at each corner, which were
to reſt upon the ſhoulders of fo many In-
dians, while he fat at eafe in the middle.
Four men were likewiſe ordered to carry
proviſions and other things neceſſary for
him, as well as his attendants, in ſo long a
journey.
All things being prepared in the beſt man.
ner poſſible, Tominy took a moit affectiona-
te and grateful leave of all his kind Indian
friends; but none ſeemed to regret his de
parture ſo much as a little Indian girl about
ſix years of age; for Tommy had been very
civil to her, and ſhe very obliging to him.
How-
.
Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
93
However, he was obliged to depart; and
fo off he fet with tears in his eyes.
After a tedious journey of near fourteen
days, through woods, and over bogs and
moraſſes, they reached a port-town on the
Bay of Hondures. Here they found an Eng.
liſh ſhip, on the contraband trade, that is,
trading in ſuch articles as are not publickly
allowed, bound for Jamaica. Tommy was
very glad to hear this, as he began to hope
he ſhould, on his arrival there, be able to
hear foinething of his father.
Theſe friendly Indians, having ſeen Tom,
my ſafely on board the ſhip, took an affec-
tionate leave of him, and ſet off on their re.
turn to their own country. The Ship fet
fail immediately, and after a quick and plea-
fant paffage, came fafe to anchor in King-
fton-harbour in Jamaica; and, as poor Tom-
my had no money to pay for his paſſage,
the generous captain not only gave up that
matter, but alſo put ſome money in his
pocket.
His firſt buſineſs on his arrival here, was
to enquire after his father; but, as he could
gain no tidings of him, and as he had no
more money than what the generous cap-
tain
ܨ
94
Voyage of Tommy Goodluck,
tain had given him, he engaged himſelf as
an under-clerk in a merchant's ſervice.
One Sunday afternoon, as he was walk-
ing on the quay, and recalling to his mind
the fatal loſs of his father, his eyes were
called on one ſide by the figure of an elder-
ly gentleman in black, ſeated on a bench,
with his hand to his face, and his eyes fted-
faſtly fixed on the angry billows of the ocean.
“ Alas! faid Tommy to himſelf, this old
gentleman is perhaps lamenting the loſs of
a child as I do that of a father. I will ac-
coſt him, for, if that be the caſe, we will
divide our forrows, and mingle our tears."
Tommy approached him; but how fhall
I expreſs their aſtoniſhment, when, on the
old gentleman's taking his hand from his face,
Tommy diſcovered his father, and Mr. Good-
luck his fon! The joy they mutually felt
on this occaſion is not to be deſcribed. It
afterwards appeared, that as ſoon as the
ſhip had ſtruck on the rock, the long-boat
was hauled out, into which Mr. Goodluck
had put every thing that was moſt valuable;
and, while a failor was gone to fetch poor
Tommy, a rolling ſea came, which carried
off every foul on the deck of the ſhip, and
ſeparated the boat from it. Mr. Goodluck
begged,
Voyage of Tommy Goodluck.
95
begged, prayed, and entreated they would
put back to fetch his fon who was left on
board; but the ſwell was ſo great that it
could not bel effected; and as thoſe who
had ſaved themſelves in the boat were but
few, Mr. Goodluck's entreaties were inef-
fectual. However, after having been three
days expoſed to danger and the fear of death,
they were taken up by a merchant fhip,
and carried to Kingſton.
To conclude, the father and ſon, having
mutually returned their thanks to God for
their happy and unexpected union, began to
think of their return to England. The old
gentleman was fo fortunate as to get in all
thofe debts he had given over as loft, and,
having ſettled every thing to his fatisfaction,
the old gentleman and Tommy fet fail for
England, where they arrived in ſafety, and
ſpent their lives in the midſt of happineſs,
peace, and plenty.
1
Li.
AD
96
A D D E N T A.
1
A MORNING HY MN,
(
for all little good Boys and GIRLS.
By a Young GENTLEMAN.
1.
0
Thou! who lately clos'd my eyes,
And calm'd my ſoul to reſt,
Now the dull blank of darkneſs flies,
Be thank'd, be prais'd, and bleſs'd.
II.
And as thou ſaveſt me in the night
From anguilla and diſmay,
Lead through the labours of the light,
And dangers of the day.
III.
Tho' from thy laws I daily ſwerve,
Yet ſtill thy mercy grant;
Shield me from all that I deſerve,
And grant me all I want.
3
1
IV.
97
IV.
Howe'er lie's tempted to defcend,
Keep Reaſon on her throne;
From all men's pallions me defend,
But chiefly from my owo.
V.
Give me a heart t'aſſiſt the poor,
Ev'n as thy hand beſtows;
For thee and man a love moſt pure,
A friendſhip for my facs.
VI.
This, thro' the merits, death, and birth
Of our bleſs'd Lord be given;
So ſhall I compaſs peace on earth,
And endleſs bliſs in heav'n.
Vol. 11.
G
A GRA-
98
A GRACE before Meat.
BLESS, O Lord, theſe thy creatures to
the nouriſhment of our bodies, and feed
our fouls with thy heavenly grace unto
eternal life, for JESUS CHRIST's fake.
Amen.
A GRACE after Meat.
GOD
OD's holy name be bleſſed and praiſed,
for there, and all other his mercies,
through CHRIST our Lord. Anicu.
END of the SECOND VOLUME.
GULLIVER'S LECTURES
VOL. III.
CONTAINING
F A
A B L
E S
OF
T H E W IS E
AE S OP
WITH
INSTRUCTIVE APPLICATIONS.
Vol. III.
A
PREFACE,
TO
O ſay any thing in recommendation
of the great utility of ancient fables,
and particularly thoſe of Aeſop, would be
a downright affront on the great capacity
of my little readers. In the reading of the-
fe, however, which I have carefully ſelect.
ed from a great nunber, I would recom-
mend my pupils to attend to the applica-
tion that is made to each of them, as from
thence they will learn wiſdom and pru-
dence, and, in the very early part of their
lives, gain that knowledge of the world,
which many live and die without acquir-
ing.
I have divided the whole into twelve
leſſons, and as works of this kind ſhould
be perufed with great attention, I would
adviſe them to read but one leſſon at a
Λ ο
time,
4
PRE FACE.
time, and not charge their memories
with too inuch at once; for it is not
the reading of a great deal, but pro-
perly reflecting on what they do read,
that muſt raiſe their reputation in the
vorld.
FABLES.
5
F
A B L E S
OF
Τ Η Ε
W [ SE
A ESO P.
LESSON 1.
A E SOP
at
PLAY.
A
N Athenian, one day, found Aeſop
at play with a company of little boys,
at their childiſh diverſions, and began to
laugh at him for it. The old fellow, who
was too much a wag himſelf, to ſuffer
others to ridicule him, took a bow, unſtrung,
and laid it upon the ground. Then calling
the cenforious Athenian, now, pbiloſopher,
ſays he, expound this riddle if you can, and
tell us what the unſtrained bow implies.
The man, after racking his brains, and
fcratching his pate about it a confiderable
time to no purpofe, at laſt gave it up, and
declared he knew not what to make of it.
Why, ſays Aeſop, laughing, if you keep
a bow always bent, it will break preſent-
A 3
ly;
6
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
ly; but, if you let it go ſlack, it will be
fitter for uſe when you want it.
APPLICATION.
The mind of man is like a bow, in this
reſpect; for if it be kept always intent upon
buſineſs, it will either break, and be good
for nothing; or loſe that ſpring and energy,
which is required in one who would acquit
himſelf with credit. But Sports and Diver-
fions footh and flacken it, and keep it in a
condition to be exerted to the beſt advan-
tage, upon occaſion,
It proceeds either from pride, ill-nature,
or hypocrify, when people cenſure and are
offended at the liberties which others uſe
in thus relaxing their minds. Sloth and id.
leneſs, by which we neglect the proſecu.
tion of our neceſſary affairs, muſt be con-
demned by all means; but thoſe that know
how to deſpatch the proper buſineſs of life
well and ſeaſonably enough, need be under
no apprehenſions of being ſurpriſed at their
diverſions, if they have nothing diſhoneſt in
them,
The
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
7
The vain Jack Daw.
D
A CERTAIN jack.daw was ſo proud
and ambitious, that, not contented to live
within his own fphere, but picking up the
feathers which fell from the peacocks, he
ftuck them in among his own, and very
confidertly introduced himſelf into an affem-
bly of thoſe beautiful birds.
They foon
found him out, ſtripped him of his borrow-
ed plumes, and falling upon him with their
ſharp bills, puniſhed him as his preſumption
deſerved. Upon this, full of grief and afflic.
tion, he returned to his old companions,
and would have flocked with them again;
but they, knowing his late life and conver-
fation, induſtriouſly avoided him, and refus-
ed to admit him into their company: and
one of them, at the ſame time, gave him
this ſerious reproof. “If, friend, you could
have been contented with our ſtation, and
had not diſdained the rank in which natu,
re had placed you, you had not been uſed
ſo fcurvily by thoſe opon whom you intrud-
ed yourſelf, nor ſuffered the notorious flight
which now we think ourſelves obliged to
put upon you."
A4
'APPLI.
8
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
APPLICATION,
We may learn from this fable to live con-
tentedly in our own condition, whatever it
be, without affecting to look bigger than we
are, by a falſe or borrowed light. To be
barely pleafed with appearing above what a
man really is, is bad enough; and what may
juftly render him contemptible in the eyes
of his equals: But if, to enable him to do
this with ſomething a better grace, he has
clandeſtinely feathered his neft with his
neighbour's goods, when found out, he has
nothing to expect but to be ſtripped of bis
plunder, and uſed like a felonious rogue into
the bargain.
The Dog and the Shadow.
A DOG, croſſing a little rivulet with a
piece of fleſh in his mouth, faw his own
ſhadow repreſented in the clear mirrour of
the limpid ſtream; and, believing it to be
another dog, who was carrying another
piece of fleſh, he could not forbear catch-
ing at it; but was ſo far from getting any
thing by his greedy deſign, that he drop-
ped
Fables of the wiſe Aefop. 9
ped the piece he had in his mouth, which
immediately funk to the bottom, and was
irrecoverably loft.
APPLICATION.
He that catches at more than belongs to
him, juftly deferves to loſe what he has.
Yet nothing is more common, and, at the
fame time, more pernicious than this ſelfith
principle. It prevails, from the king to the
peaſant; and all orders and degrees of men
are, more or leſs, infected with it.
The Wolf and the Crane.
A WOLF, aftex devouring his prey,
happened to have a bone ſtick in his throat;
which gave him ſo much pain, that he went
howling up and down, and importuning
every creature he met, to lend him a kind
hand in order to his relief; nay, he promil-
ed a reaſonable reward to any one that ſhould
undertake the operation with ſucceſs. At
laft the crane, tempted with the lucre of the
reward, and having firſt procured him to con-
firm his promiſe with an oath, undertook the
buſineſs;
10
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
buſineſs; and ventured his long neck into
the rapacious felon's throat. In ſhort, he
plucked out the bone, and expected the pro-
miſed gratuity. When the wolf, turning
his eyes diſdainfully towards him, faid, I
did not think you had been ſo unconſcionab-
le: I had your head in my mouth, and could
have bit it off whenever I pleaſed, but fuf-
fered you to take it away without any da.
mage, and yet you are not contented.
APPLICATION.
There is a fort of people in the world, to
whom a man may be in the wrong for doing
ſervices, upon a double ſcore; firſt, becauſe
they never deſerved to have a good office
done them; and ſecondly, becauſe when
once engaged, it is ſo hard a matter to get
well rid of their acquaintance.
The Fox and the Crow.
A CROW having taken a piece of chee-
ſe out of a cottage-window, flew up into
a high tree with it, in order to eat it;
which a fox obſerving, came and fat under-
neath,
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
II
neath, and began to compliment the crow
upon the ſubject of her beauty. "I proteft,
ſays he, I never obſerved it before, but
your feathers are of a more delicate white
than any that I ever ſaw in my life.
Ah!
what a fine ſhape and graceful turn of body
is there! And I make no queſtion but you
have a tolerable voice. If it is but as fine
as your complexion, I do'nt know a bird
that can pretend to ſtand in competition
with you.” The crow, tickled with this
very civil language, neſtled and riggled about,
and hardly knew where ſhe was; but think.
ing the fox a little dubious as to the par-
ticular of her voice, and having a mind to
fet him right in that matter, began to ſing,
and, in the ſame inſtant, let the cheeſe drop
out of her mouth. This being what the
fox wanted, he chopped it up in a moment;
and trotted away, laughing to himſelf at the
eaſy credulity of the crow.
APPLICATION.
They that love flattery, as, it is to be
feared, too many do, are in a fair way to
repent of their foible at the long run. And
yet how few are there among the whole
race
12
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
face of mankind, who may be faid to be full
proof againſt its attacks! How many are
tickled to the laſt degree with the pleaſure
of flattery, even wbile they are applauded
for their honeſt deteſtation of it!
LESSON II.
The Frogs and the fighting Bulls.
AFROG one day peeping out of the lake,
and looking about him, ſaw two bulls
fighting at ſome diſtance off in the meadow;
and calling to one of his acquaintance, look,
ſays he, what dreadful work there is yon-
der? Dear firs, what will become of us !
Why, prythee, ſays the other, do not
frighten yourſelf fo about nothing; how can
their quarrels affect us? They are of a dif-
ferent kind and way of living, and are at
preſent only contending which ſhall be ma-
ſter of the herd. That is true, replies the
firſt, their quality and ſtation in life is, to
all appearance, different enough from our's:
but, as one of them will certainly get the
better, he that is worſted, being beat out
of the meadow, will take refuge here in
the
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 13
the marſhes, and may poſſibly tread out the
guts of fome of us: ſo, you ſee we are
more nearly concerned in this diſpute of
theirs, than at firſt you were aware of.
APPLICATION.
This poor timorous frog had juſt reaſon
for its fears and ſuſpicions; it being hardly
poſſible for great people to fall out, with-
out involving many below them in the ſame
fate: pay; whatever becomes of the former,
the latter are ſure to ſuffer: thoſe may be
only playing the fool, while theſe really
Imart for it.
The Stag in the Ox's Stall.
A STAG, rouſed out of his thick cover
in the midſt of the foreſt, and driven hard
by the hounds, made towards a farmhouſe,
and ſeeing the door of an ox-ſtall open, en-
tered therein, and hid himſelf under a heap
of ſtraw. One of the oxen, turning his
head about, aſked him what he meant by
venturing himſelf in ſuch a place as that was,
where
14
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
I,
where he was ſure to meet with his doom,
Ah! ſays the ſtag, if you will be ſo good
as to favour me with your concealment, I
hope I ſhall do well enough; I intend to
make off again the firſt opportunity. Well,
he ftaid there till towards night; in came
the ox-man with a bundle of fodder, and
never faw him. In ſhort, all the ſervants
of the farm came and went, and not a ſoul
of them fmelt any thing of the matter. Nay,
the bailiff himſelf came, according to form,
and looked in but walked away no wiſer
than the reſt. Upon this the ſtag, ready to
jump out of his ſkin for joy, began to re-
turn thanks to the good-natured oxen, pro-
teſting that they were the moſt obliging peo.
ple he had ever met with in his life. Af-
ter he had done his compliinents, one of
them anſwered him gravely; indeed we de-
fire nothing more than to have it in our pow-
er to contribute to your eſcape; but there
is a certain perſon you little think of, who
has a hundred eyes; if he ſhould happen to
come, I would not give this ſtraw for your
life. In the interim, home comes the mas-
ter himſelf, from a neighbour's where he
had been invited to dinner; and, becauſe he
had obſerved the cattle to look but fcurvily
of
7
Fables of the Wiſe Aeſop. IS
of late, he went up to the rack, and aſked
why they did not give them more fodder;
then, caſting his eyes downward, Hey-day !
ſays he, why ſo fparing of your litter? pray
ſcatter a little more here. And theſe cob.
webs- But I have ſpoken fo often that un-
leſs I do it myſelf Thus, as he went
on, prying into every thing, he chanced
to look where the ſtag's horns lay ſticking
out of the ſtraw; upon which he raiſed a
hue-and-cry, called all his people about him,
killed the poor ſtag, and made prize of
bim.
APPLICATION,
The moral of this fable is, that no body
looks after a man's affairs fo well as he him.
felf. Servants being but hirelings, feldom
bave the true intereſt of their maſter at heart,
but let things run on in a negligent conſtant
diſorder; and this, generally, not ſo much
for want of capacity as honeſty. Their heads
are taken up with the cultivation of their
own private intereft; for the ſervice and pro.
motion of which, that of their maſter is
poſtponed, and often entirely neglected.
Vol. III.
B
The
16
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
The Fox and the Grapes.
A FOX, very hungry, chanced to come
into a vineyard, where there hung bunches
of charming ripe grapes, but najled up to
a trellis ſo high, that he leaped till he quite
tired himſelf, without being able to reach
one of them. At laſt, Let who will take
them! ſays he, they are but green and four;
ſo I'll ev'n let them alone.
APPLICATION,
This fable is a good reprimand to a par-
cel of vain coxcombs in the world, who,
becauſe they would be thought never to be
diſappointed in any of their purſuits, pre-
tend a diſlike to every thing which they can-
not obtain.
There is a ſtrange propenſity
in mankind to this temper, and there are
numbers of grumbling people in every dif-
ferent faculty and ſect in life.
The Viper and the File.
A VIPER entering a ſmith's fhop, look
ed up and down for ſomething to eat; and
ſeeing
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop. 17
ſeeing a file, fell to gnawing it as greedily
as could be. The file told him very gruf-
fly, that he had beſt be quiet and let him
alone; for that he would get very little by
nibbling at one, who upon occaſion, could
bite iron and ſteel.
APPLICATION.
By this fable we are cautioned to confi.
der what any perſon is, before we make an
attack upon him after any manner whatſoe-
ver: particularly, how we let our tongue
ſlip in cenſuring the actions of thoſe who
are, in the opinion of the world, not only
of an unqueſtioned reputation, ſo that nobo-
dy will believe what we infinuate againſt
them; but of ſuch an influence, upon ac-
count of their own veracity, that the leaft
word from them would ruin our credit to all
intents and purpoſes. If wit be the caſe, and
we have a ſatirical vein, which at certain
periods muſt have a flow, let us be cautious
at whom we level it; for if the perſon's
underſtanding be of better proof than our
own, all our ingenious fallies, like liquor
ſquirted againſt the wind, will recoil back
upon our own faces, and make us the ridi.
B 2
cale
18
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
cule of every ſpectator. This fable, beſides,
is not an improper emblem of envy; which,
rather than not bite at all, will fall foul
where it can hurt nothing but itſelf.
The Fox and the Goat.
A FOX having tumbled, by chance, into
a well, had been cafting about a long while,
to no purpoſe, how be ſhould get out again;
when, at laſt, a goat came to the place,
and wanting to drink, aſked Reynard, whe .
ther the water was good: Good! ſays he,
ay, ſo ſweet, that I am afraid I have fur-
feited myſelf, I have drank fo abundantly.
The goat, upon this, without any more
ado, leapped in; and the fox taking the ad-
vantage of his horns, by the aſſiſtance of
them, as nimbly leapped out, leaving the
poor goat at the bottom of the well, to ſhift
for himſelf.
APPLICATION.
The doctrine taught by this fable is no
more than this, that we ought to conſider
who it is that adviſes us, before we follow
the advice. For, however plauſible the coun-
fel
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 19
ſel may ſeem, if the perſon that gives it is
a crafty knave, we may be aſſured that he
intends to ſerve himſelf in it, more than us,
if not to erect ſomething to his own advan-
tage out of our ruin.
LESSON III.
The old
Old Hound.
A N old hound, who had been an excellent
good one in his time, and given his
maſter great ſport and ſatisfaction in many
a chaſe, at laſt, by the effect of years, be-
came feeble and unferviceable. However,
being in the field one day, when the ſtag
was almoſt run down, he happened to be
the firſt that came in with him, and feifed
him by one of his haunches; but, his decay-
ed and broken teeth not being able to keep
their hold, the deer eſcaped, and threw him
quite out. Upon which, his maſter being
in a great paſſion, and going to ſtrike him,
the honeſt old creature is ſaid to have bark-
ed out this apology: "Ah! do not ſtrike
your poor old ſervant; it is not my heart
B 3
and
2
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
and inclination, but my ſtrength and ſpeed
that fail me. If what now I am difpleaſes,
pray don't forget what I have been."
APPLICATION.
This fable may ſerve to give us a gene-
ral view of the ingratitude of the greateſt
part of mankind. Notwithſtanding all the
civility and complaiſance that is uſed among
people where there is a common intercour-
fe of buſineſs; yet, let the main ſpring, the
probability of their being ſerviceable to each
other, either in point of pleaſure or profit,
be but once broken, and farewel courteſy.
The Mountains in Labour.
THE Mountains were faid do be in la.
bour, and uttered moſt dreadful groans.
People came together, far and near, to ſee
what birth would be produced, and after
they had waited a conſiderable time in ex.
pectation, out crept a mouſe.
APPLICATION.
Great cry and little wool, is the Englich
proyerb; the ſenſe of which bears an exact
pro-
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop. 21
proportion to this fable. By which are ex-
poſed, all thoſe who promiſe ſomething ex-
ceedingly great, but come off with a pro-
duction ridiculouſly little.
The Sick Kite.
A KITE had been fick a long time, and
finding there was no hopes of recovery, beg.
ged of his mother to go to all the churches
and religious houſes in the country, to try
what prayers and promiſes would effect in
his behalf. The old kite replied, Indeed,
dear ſon, I would willingly undertake any
thing to ſave your life, but I have great
reaſon to deſpair of doing you any ſervice
in the way you propoſe: for, with what
face can I aſk any thing of the gods, in
favour of one whoſe whole life has been a
continued ſcene of rapine and injuſtice, and
who has not fcrupled, upon occaſion, to
rob the very altars themſelves?
APPLICATION.
The rehearſal of this fable almoſt unavoid-
ably draws our attention to that very ſerious
B 4
and
22
Pables of the wife defop.
and important point, the confideration of a
death-bed repentance. And to expoſe the
abſurdity of relying upon ſuch a weak foun-
dation, we need only aſk the ſame queſtion
with the kite in the fable: How can he that
has offended the gods all his life time by
doing acts of diſhonour and injuſtice, expect
that they ſhould be pleaſed with him at laſt,
for no other reaſon but becauſe he fears he
ſhall not be able to offend them any longer?
when, in truth, ſuch a repentance can fig.
nify nothing but a confirmation of his for-
mer impudence and folly: for ſure no ftu-
pidity can exceed that of the man who ex-
pects a future judgement, and yet can bear
to commit any piece of injuſtice, with a
fenſe and deliberation of the fact.
The Wood and the Clown.
A COUNTRY fellow came one day
into the wood, and looked about him with
fome concern; upon which the trees, with
a curioſity natural to fome other creatures,
aſked him what he wanted ? He replied,
that he wanted only a piece of wood to
make a handle to his hatchet. Since that
was
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
23
was all, it was voted unanimouſly that he
ſhould have a piece of good, ſound, tough
aſh, But he had no ſooner received and
fitted it for his purpoſe, than he began to
lay about him unmercifully, and to hack
and hew without diſtinction, felling the pob-
left trees in all the foreſt. Then the oak is
ſaid to have fpoken thus to the beech, in
a low whiſper, Brother, we muſt take it
for our pains.
:
APPLICATION.
No people are more juſtly liable to ſuffer,
than they who furniſh their enemies with
any kind of affiftance.
It is generous to
forgive, it is injoined us by religion to love
our enemies; but he that truſts, much more
contributes to the ſtrengthening and arming
of an enemy, may almoſt depend upon re-
penting him of his inadvertent benevolence:
and has, moreover, this to add to his dis-
treſs, that, when he might have prevent-
ed it, he brought his misfortune upon him-
felf by his own credulity.
.
B 5
Tbe
24
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
The Wind and the Sun.
A DISPUTE once aroſe betwixt the
northwind and the fun, about the fuperio-
rity of their power; and they agreed to try
their ſtrength upon a traveller, which ſhould
be able to get his cloak off firſt. The north-
wind began, and blew a very cold blaſt,
accompanied with a ſharp driving ſhower.
But this, and whatever elſe he could do,
inſtead of making the man quit his ſurtout,
obliged him to gird it about his body as cloſe
as poſſible. Next came the fun; who,
breaking out from a thick watry cloud, dro-
ve away the cold vapours from the ſky, and
darted his warm ſultry beams upon the head
of the poor weather-beaten traveller. The
man grows faint with the heat; and unable
to endure it any longer, firſt throws off his
heavy cloak, and then flies for protection
to the ſhade of a neighbouring grove.
APPLICATION.
There is fomething in the temper of men
fo averſe to ſevere and boiſterous treatment,
that he who endeavours to carry his point
that way, inſtead of prevailing, generally
leaves
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
25
leaves the mind of him, whom he has thus
attempted, in a more confirmed and obſtina-
te ſituation, than he found it at firſt. Bit-
ter words and hard uſage freeze the heart
into a kind of obduracy, which mild per-
ſuaſion and gentle language only can diffol-
ve and ſoften.
LESSON IV.
.
The Bald Knight.
A Certain knight growing old, his hairs
fell off, and he became bald, to hide
which imperfection, he wore a periwig.
But as he was riding out with fome others
a hunting, a ſudden guſt of wind blew off
the periwig, and expoſed his bald pate. The
company could not forbear laughing at the
accident; and he himſelf laughed as loud as
any body, ſaying, How was it to be ex-
pected that I ſhould keep ftrange hair upon
my head, when my own would not ſtay
there?
APPLICATION.
To be captious, is not more uneaſy to
Qurfelves, than it is diſagreeable to others.
As
26 Fables of the wife Aeſop.
As no man is intirely without fault, a few
defects, ſurrounded with a guard of good
qualities, may paſs muſter well enough:
but he whoſe attention is always upon the
catch for ſomething to také exception at,
if he had no other bad quality, can never
be acceptable. A captious temper, like a
little leaven, fours a whole lump of virtues,
and makes us disreliſh that, which might
otherwiſe be the moſt grateful converſation
The Two Pots.
AN earthen pot, and one of braſs, ſtand-
ing together upon the river's briuk, were
both carried away by the flowing in of the
tide. The earthen pot fhowed ſome unea.
fineſs, as fearing he ſhould be broken; but
his companion of braſs bid him be under no
apprehenſions, for that he would take care
of him. O, replies the other, keep as far
off as ever you can, I intreat you, it is
you I am moſt afraid of; for, whether the
ſtream daſhes you againſt me, or me againſt
you, I am ſure to be the ſufferer; and the.
refore, I beg of you, don't let us come near
one another.
APPLIC
5
Fables of the wiſe defop.
27
APPLICATION.
A man of moderate fortune, who is con-
tented with what he has, and finds he can
live happily upon it, ſhould take care not to
hazard and expofe his felicity, by confort-
ing with the great and the powerful. Peo-
ple of equal conditions may float down the
current of life, without hurting each other;
but, it is a point of ſome difficulty to ſteer
one's courſe in the company of the great,
ſo as to eſcape without a bulge,
The Peacock and the Crane.
THE peacock and the crane, by chance,
met together in the ſame place. The pea-
cock erecting his tail, diſplayed his gaudy
plumes, and looked with contempt upon the
crane, as ſome mean ordinary perſon. The
crane, reſolving to mortify his inſolence,
took occaſion to ſay, that peacocks were
very fine birds indeed, if fine feathers could
make them fo; but that he thought it a much
nobler thing to be able to riſe above the
clouds, than to ſtrut about upon the ground,
and be gazed at by children.
APPLI
28
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
APPLICATION.
It is very abſurd to flight or inſult another
upon his wanting a property which we pof-
ſeſs; for he may, for any thing we know,
have as juſt reaſon to triumph over us, by
being maſter of ſome good quality, of which
we are incapable. But, in regard to the
fable before us, that which the peacock va-
lues himſelf upon, the glitter and finery of
dreſs, is one of the moſt trifling confidera-
tions in nature; and what a man of ſenſe
would be aſhamed to reckon, even as the
leaſt part of merit.
The Travellers and the Bear.
TWO men being to travel through a
foreſt together, mutually promiſed to hand
by each other in any danger they ſhould
meet upon the way. They had not gone
far, before a bear came ruſhing towards
them out of a thicket; upon which, one,
being a light nimble fellow, got op into a
tree; the other, falling flat upon his face,
and holding his breath, lay ſtill, while the
bear came up and ſmelled at him; but that
creature, ſuppoſing him to be a dead carca-
ſe,
Fables of the wiſe Mefop.
29
le, went back again into the wood, with
out doing him the leaſt harm. When all was
over, the ſpark who had climbed the trec
came down to his companion, and, with a
pleaſant ſmile, aſked him what the bear faid
to him; for, ſays he, I took notice that he
clapped his mouth very cloſe to your ear.
Why, replies the other, he charged me to
take care for the future, not to put any
confidence in ſuch cowardly raſcals as you
are.
APPLICATION.
Thought nothing is more common than
to hear people profeſs ſervices and friend-
ſhips, where there is no occaſion for them;
yet ſcarce any thing is ſo hard to be found
as a true friend, who will affiſt us in time
of danger and difficulty. All the declara-
tions of kindneſs which are made to an ex-
perienced man, though accompanied with
a ſqueeze by the hand, and a folemn affe-
veration, ſhould leave no greater impreſſion
upon his mind, than the whiſtling of the
hollow breeze which bruſhes one's ear with
an unmeaning falute, and is preſently gone.
He that ſuccours our neceſſity by a well-
aimed aſſiſtance, though it were not uſher-
ed
30
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
ed in by previous compliments, will ever
after be looked upon as our friend and pro-
tector, and in ſo much a greater degree,
as the favour was unaſked and unpromiſed,
as it was not extorted by importunities on
the one ſide, nor led in by a numerous at-
tendance of promiſes on the other. Words
are nothing till they are fulfilled by actions;
and therefore we ſhould not ſuffer ourſelves
to be deluded by a vain hope and reliance
upon them.
The Crow and the Pitcher.
A CROW, ready to die with thirſt,
flew with joy to a pitcher which he beheld
at fome diſtance. When he came, he found
water in it indeed, but fo near the bottom,
that with all his ſtooping and ſtraining, he
was not able to reach it. Then he endea-
voured to overturn the pitcher, that fo at
leaſt he might be able to get a little of it.
But his ſtrength was not ſufficient for this.
At laſt, ſeeing ſome pebbles lie near the
place, he caſt them one by one into the pit-
cher; and thus, by degrees, raiſed the water
up to the very brim, and ſatisfied his thirſt.
APPLI.
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop,
31
APPLICATION.
Many things which cannot be effected by
ſtrength, or by the old vulgar way of en-
terpriſing, may yet be brought about by
fome new and untryed means. A man of
fagacity and penetration, upon encounter.
ing a difficulty or two, does not immedia.
tely deſpair; but if he cannot ſucceed one
way, employs his wit and ingenuity an-
other.
LESSON V.
The Man and his Goofe.
+
A
Certain man had a gooſe which laid bim
a golden egg every day. But, not
contented with this, which rather increaſed
than abated his avarice, he was reſolved to
kill the gooſe, and cut up her belly, that
ſo he might come at the inexhauſtible trea-
ſure which he fancied ſhe had within her.
He did fo; and to his great forrow and dis-
appointment, found nothing.
VOL. III.
C
APPLI.
32
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
APPLICATION.
They who are of ſuch craving and im.
patient tempers, that they cannot live con-
tented when fortune has bleſſed them with
a conſtant and continued ſufficiency, deſer-
ve even to be deprived of what they have.
And this has been the caſe of many ambi-
tious and covetous men, who by making
an effay to grow very rich at once, have
miſled what they aimed at, and loſt what
they had before.
Hercules and the Carter.
AS a clowniſh fellow was driving his
cart along a deep miry lane, the wheels fuck
ſo faſt in the clay, that the horſes could not
draw thein out. Upon this, he fell a bawl.
ing and praying to Hercules to come and
help him.
Hercules looking down from a
cloud, bid him not lie there, like an idle
rafcal as he was, but get up and whip his
horſes ſtoutly, and clap his ſhoulder to the
wheel; adding, that this was the only way
for him to obtain his aſſiſtance.
APPLI
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
33
APPLICATION.
This fable ſhows us how yain and ill
grounded the expectations of thoſe people
are, who imagine they can obtain whatever
they want by importuoing heaven with their
prayers; for it is ſo agreeable to the natu-
re of the Divine Being, to be better pleaf-
ed with virtuous actions and an honeft in.
duſtry, than idle prayers, that it is a kind
of blafphemy to ſay otherwiſe.
The Old Man and Death.
A poor feeble old man, who had crawl.
ed out into a neighbouring wood to gather
a few ſticks, had made up his bundle, and
laying it over his ſhoulders, was trudging
homeward with it; but what, with age and
the length of the way, and the weight of
his burthen, he grew fo faint and weak
that he ſunk under it; and, as he fat on the
ground, called upon Death to come, once
for all, and eaſe him of his troubles. Death
no ſooner heard him, but he came, and de-
manded of him what he wanted.
old creature, who little thought Death had
been ſo near, and frighted almoſt out of his
се
ſen-
The poor
34
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
fenſes with his terrible aſpect, apfwered him
trembling, That having by chance let his
bundle of ſticks fall, and being too infirm
to get it up himſelf, he had made boid to
call upon him to help him; that indeed this
was all he wanted at preſent; and that he
hoped his worſhip was not offended with
him for the liberty he had taken in ſo doing.
APPLICATION.
This fable gives us a lively repreſentation
of the general behaviour of mankind toward
that grim king of terrors, Death. Such
liberties do they take with him behind his
back, that, upon every little croſs accident
which happens in their way, Death is im-
mediately called upon. When, let Death
only offer to make his appearance, and the
very ſenſe of his near approach almoſt does
the buſineſs : Oh, then, all they want is a
little longer life; and they would be glad
to come off ſo well, as to have their old
burthen laid upon their ſhoulders again.
One may well conclude, what an utter aver-
fion they, who are in youth, health, and
vigour of body, have to dying, when age,
poverty, and wretchedneſs, are not fufficient
to reconcile us to the thought.
The
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 35
The Collier and the Fuller.
THE collier and the fuller, being old ac-
quaintances, happened upon a time to meet
together; and the latter, being but ill pro-
vided with a habitation, was invited by.
the former, to come and live in the ſame
houſe with him. I thank you, my dear
friend, replies the fuller, for your kind of-
fer, but it cannot be; for if I were to dwell
with you, whatever I ſhould take pains to
ſcour and make clean in the morning, the
duſt of you and your coals would blacken
and defile, as bad as ever, before night.
APPLICATION.
It is of no ſmall importance in life to be
cautious what company we keep, and with
whom we enter into friendſhip; for though
we are ever ſo well diſpoſed ourſelves, and
happen to be ever fo free from vice and
wickedneſs, yet, if thoſe with whom we
frequently converſe, are engaged in a wick-
ed courſe, it will be almoſt impoſſible for
us to eſcape being drawn in with them.
C3
The
36
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
The Fox and the Vizor-Maſk.
A FOX, being in a ſhop where vizor.
maſks were fold, laid his foot upon one of
them, and confidering it a while attentive-
ly, at laſt broke out into this exclamation:
Bleſs me! fays he, what a handſome good-
ly figure this makes! What pity is it, that
it ſhould want brains!
APPLICATION.
This is levelled at that numerous part of
mankind, who, out of their ample fortunes,
take care to accompliſh themſelves with eve.
ry thing but common ſenſe. In ſhort, the
whole world is a maſquerade; and a man of
a tolerable talent for obſervation, may en-
tertain himſelf as well in the mixed afſem-
blies he meets with in life, as at the moſt ma.
gnificent and expenſive revels provided and
ordered for that purpoſe.
Many of the
faces one meets with among the gay frolick
part of our ſpecies, if ſearched for brains,
would appear as arrant vizors as that in the
fable
The
Fables of the wiſe defop. 37
The Two Frogs.
ONE hot fultry ſummer, the lakes and
ponds beiog almost every where dried up, a
couple of frogs agreed to travel together in
ſearch of water. At laſt they came to a deep
well, and fitting upon the brink of it, be-
gan to conſult whether they ſhould leap in
or not. One of them was for it; urging,
that there was plenty of clear ſpring water,
and no danger of being diſturbed.
Well,
ſays the other, all this may be true, and yet I
cannot come into your opinion for my life;
for, if the water ſhould happen to dry up
here too, how ſhould we get out again?
APPLICATION.
The moral of this fable is intended to put
us in mind to look before we leap. That we
ſhould not undertake any action of impor-
tance, without conſidering firſt, what the
event of it is like to prove, and how we
ſhould be able to come off, upon ſuch and
ſuch proviſos.
A good general does not
think he diminiſhes any thing of his charac-
ter, when he looks forward beyond the main
action, and concerts meaſures, in caſe there
Thould be occafion, for a fafe retreat.
C4
LES
38
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
LESSON VI.
The Goat and the
Lion.
THE
HE lion ſeeing the goat upon a ſteep
craggy rock, where he could not come
at him, aſked him what delight he could
take to ſkip from one precipice to another,
all day, and venture the breaking of his neck
every moment; I wonder, fays he, you will
not come down, and feed on the plain here,
where there is ſuch plenty of good grafs,
and fine ſweet herbs. Why, replies the
goat, I cannot but fay, your opinion is
right; but you look ſo very hungry and de-
ſigning, that, to tell you the truth, I do
not care to venture my perſon where you
are.
APPLICATION.
Advice, though good in itſelf, is to be
ſuſpected, when it is given by a tricking
ſelfinterefted man. Perhaps we ſhould take
upon ourſelves, not only a very great, but
an unneceſſary trouble, if we were to ſu-
ſpect every man who goes to adviſe us.
But this, however, is neceſſary, that, when
we
!
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop. 39
we have reaſon to queſtion any one, in point
of honour and juſtice, we not only confi-
der well before we ſuffer ourſelves to be
perſuaded by him, but even reſolve to have
nothing to do in any affair, where ſuch
treacherous ſlippery ſparks are concerned,
if we can avoid it without much incon-
venience,
The Lion and the Frog.
THE lion, hearing an odd kind of a hol-
low voice, and ſeeing nobody, ſtarted up;
he liſtened again, and perceiving the voice
to continue, even trembled and quaked for
fear. At laſt, ſeeing a frog crawl out of
the lake, and finding that the noiſe he had
heard was nothing but the croaking of that
little creature, he went up to it, and part-
ly out of anger, partly contempt; fpurned
it to pieces with his feet.
APPLICATION.
This fable is a pretty image of the rain
fears and empty terrors, with which our
weak miſguided nature is ſo apt to be alarm-
ed and diſtracted. If we hear but ever ſo
C 5
little
40
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
little noiſe, which we are not able to ac.
count for immediately, nay, often before
we give ourſelves time to conſider about it,
we are ſtruck with fear, and labour under
a moſt unmanly, unreaſonable trepidation.
More eſpecially, if the alarm happens when
we are alone, and in the dark.
Theſe no-
tions are ingrafted in our minds very early;
we fuck them in with our nurſe's milk, and
therefore it is the more difficult, when we
are grown up, and aſhamed of them, to
root them out of our nature. But in order
to it, it is well worth our while to obſer.
ve, that the moſt learned, the moſt ingeni-
ous, and candid writers, in all ages, have
ridiculed and exploded the belief of ſuch
phantoms, as the weaker part of mankind
are apt to be terrified with; intimating, that
goblins, ſpectres, apparitions, fairies, ghoſts,
&c. were invented by knaves to frighten
fools with.
The Bull and the Goat.
THE bull being purſued by the lion,
made towards a cave, in which he deſign-
ed to ſecure himſelf, but was oppoſed juſt
at
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
41
at the entrance by a goat, who had got
poſſeſſion before him, and threatening a kind
of defiance with his horns, ſeemed reſolv-
ed to diſpute the paſs with him. The bull,
who thought he had no time to loſe in a con.
teſt of this nature, immediately made off
again; but told the goat, that it was not
for fear of him or bis defiances; for, ſays
he, if the lion were not ſo near, I would
ſoon make you know the difference between
a bull and a goat.
APPLICATION.
It is very inhuman to deny fuccour and
comfort to people in tribulation; but to in-
fult them, and add to the weight of their
misfortunes, is ſomething ſuperlatively brut.
ith and cruel.
Fortune and the Boy.
A BOY was fleeping by the fide of a
well. Fortune ſaw him, and came and wak.
ed him, ſaying, prithee, good child,
do
not lie ſleeping here; for if you ſhould fall
in, no body would impute it to you, but
lay all the blame upon me, Fortune,
APPLI.
42
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop:
APPLICATION.
Poor Fortune has a great deal thrown
upon her indeed; and oftentimes very un.
juſtly too. Thoſe of our actions which are
attended with fuccefs, though often owing
to fome accident or other, we aſcribe, with-
out any ſcruple, to fome particular merit
or good quality in ourſelves; but when any
of our doings miſcarry, though probably
through our own inſufficiency or neglect,
all the ill conſequence is imputed to Fortu-
ne, and we acquit ourſelves of having con-
tributed any thing towards it.
The Fox and the Boar.
THE boar ſtood whetting his tuſks againſt
an old tree. The fox, who happened to
come by at the ſame time, aſked him why
he inade thoſe martial preparations of whet-
ting his teeth, ſince there was no enemy
near, that he could perceive? That may be,
Maſter Renard, ſays the boar; but we ſhould
fcour up our arms while we have leiſure,
you know; for in time of danger we ſhall
have ſomething elſe to do.
APPLI-
Fables of the wife Aefope
43
APPLICATION.
He that is not idle when he is at leiſure,
may play with his buſineſs. A diſcreet man
ſhould have a reſerve of every thing that is
neceſſary before-hand; that when the time
comes for him to make uſe of them, he
may not be in a hurry and a confuſion.
We hope to live to a good old age; ſhould
we not then lay up a ſtore of conveniences
againſt that time, when we ſhall be moſt in
want of them, and leaſt able to procure
them?
We muſt die! nay, never ſtart, we muſt.
Are there not ſome neceffary things for us to
tranfact before we depart; at leaſt, ſome
trifle or other for us to bequeath, which a
ſudden ſtroke may prevent ụs from doing?
Sure there is. And, if ſo, how inexcufa-
ble ſhall we be, if we defer the execution
of it 'till the alarm comes upon us.
I did
not think of it, is an expreſſion unworthy
a wife man's mouth, and was only intended
for the uſe of fools.
The
44
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
The Fowler and the Lark.
A FOWLER ſet ſnares to catch larks
in the open field. A lark was caught; and
finding herſelf intangled, could not forbear
lamenting her hard fate. Ah! woe is me, ,
fays ſhe, what crime have I committed? I
have taken neither ſilver nor gold, nor any
thing of value; but muſt die for only eat-
ing a poor little grain of wheat.
APPLICATION.
The irregular adminiſtration of juſtice in
the world, is indeed a very melancholy ſub-
ject to think of. A poor fellow ſhall be
hanged for ſtealing a ſheep, perhaps to keep
his family from ſtarving; while one who is
already great and opulent, ſhall, for that
very reaſon, think himſelf privileged to com-
mit almoſt any enormities. But it is necef-
ſary that a ſhow and form of juſtice ſhould
be kept up; otherwiſe, were people to be
ever ſo great, and fo ſucceſsful rogues, they
would not be able to keep poffeffion of, and
enjoy their plunder.
The
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
45
The Boar and the Aſs.
A LITTLE ſcoundrel of an aſs happen-
ing to meet with a boar, had a mind to be
arch upon him; and fo, brother, fays he,
your humble feryant. The boar fomewhat
nettled at this familiarity, told him, he was
ſurpriſed to hear him utter ſo impudent an
untruth. Why, replies the aſs, ſhould you
be offended at my claiming kindered with
you, when I have a certain feature about
me, ſhowing what he meant, that bears a
great reſemblance to your fnout; the boar
briſtled up at this, and was juſt going to
fhow his noble reſentment, by giving him
a rip in the flank; but wiſely ftifling his
paſſion, he contented himſelf with only ſay.
ing, go, you forry beaſt! I could be am-
ply and eaſily revenged of you, but I don't
care to foul my tuſks with the blood of ſo
baſe a creature.
APPLICATION,
Fools are ſometimes ſo ambitious of being
thought wits, that they run great hazards in
attempting to ſhow themſelves fuch. This
is not the firſt aſs, who after a handfome
rebu-
46
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
rebuke from one fuperior to himſelf, both
in courage and merit, has continued his
auk ward raillery even to the laſt degree of
offence. But ſuch a dull creature is ſo far
from raiſing himſelf the leaſt eſteem by his
ludicrous vein, that he has very good luck
if he eſcapes with a whole ſkin. Buffoons,
like dwarfs, ſhould be matched with thoſe
of their own level; a man, in ſenſe or of
ftature, would be aſhamed to encounter
either of them. But, notwithſtanding all
this, and though the boar in the fable is a
very good example to men of generous bra.
ve ſpirits, not to give themſelves up to paf-
fion, nor to be diſtempered with thoughts
of revenge upon the inſolent behaviour of
every
aſs that offends tbem, becauſe their
hands would be diſhonoured by the tinctu.
re of a baſe man's blood; yet, among human
creatures, the correction of an aſs that
would be unfeaſonably witty, may be per-
formed with juſtneſs and propriety enough,
provided it be done in good humour.
LES.
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
47
LESSON VII.
The Kid and the Wolf.
A kid being mounted upon the roof of a
fhed and ſeeing a wolf below, loaded
him with all manner of reproaches. Upon
which, the wolf, looking up, replyed,
Don’t value yourſelf, vain creature, upon
thinking you mortify me; for I look upon
this ill language, not as coming from you,
but from the place which protects you.
APPLICATION,
To rail and give ill language, is very un-
becoming, not only gentlemen in particular,
but men in general, nor can we eaſily de-
termine whether courage or manners are
moſt wanting in the perſon who is given to
ufe it. Now, when any one is fo fcreened
and protected by the place he is in, that he
may commit ſuch indecencies with impuni-
ty, however his carcaſe may eſcape ſcot.
free, yet he is ſure to pay for it in his
reputation; it being impoſſible we ſhould
think him a man of honour, who endeavours
VOL. III.
D
to
48
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
to wound us from the advantage of the pla.
ce in which he happens to be, and refuſes
to engage us upon equal terms.
The Harper.
A FELLOW that uſed to play upon
his harp, and ſing to it in little alehouſes,
and made a ſhift, by the help of thoſe nar-
row confined walls, to pleaſe the dull fots
who heard him, from hence entertained an
ambition of ſhowing his parts upon the pu-
blic theatre, where he fancied he could not
fail of raiſing a great reputation and fortune,
in a very ſhort time. He was accordingly
admitted upon tryal; but the fpaciouſneſs of
the place, and the throng of the people, fo
deadened and weakened both his voice and
inſtrument, that fcarce either of them could
be heard ; and where they could, it founded
fo poor, fo low and wretched, in the ear
of his refined audience, that he was uni.
verſally hiſſed and exploded off the ſtage.
APPLICATION.
When we are commended for our perform-
ances by people of much flattery, or little
judge.
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 49
judgement, we ſhould be ſure not to value
ourſelves upon it; for want of which,
many a vain unthinking man has at once
expoſed and loſt himſelf to the world. It
is not the diverting a little, inſignificant,
injudicious audience of fociety, which can
gain us a proper eſteem, or infure fuccefs,
in a place which calls for a performance of
the firſt rate; we ſhould have either allow.
ed abilities to pleaſe the moſt refined taſtes,
or judgement enough to know that we
want them, and to have a care how we ſub.
mit ourſelves to the tryal. And if we have
a mind to purſue a juſt and true ambition,
it is not fufficient that we ſtudy barely to
pleaſe, but it is of the greateſt moment
whom we pleaſe, and in what reſpect; other-
wife, we may not only looſe our labour,
but inake ourſelves ridiculous into the bar.
gain.
The Two Crabs.
IT is ſaid to be the nature of a crab-fiſh
to go backward: however, a mother-crab,
one day, reproved her daughter, and was
in a great paffion with her for her unto-
ward
D 2
so
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
ward aukward gait, which ſhe deſired her to
alter, and not move in a way fo contradic-
tory to the reſt of the world. Indeed, mo-
ther, ſays the young crab, I walk as de-
cently as I can, and to the beſt of my know-
ledge; but, if you would have me go other-
wiſe, I beg you would be ſo good as to
practiſe it firſt, and ſhow me, by your
own example, how you would have me
behave myſelf.
Į
APPLICATION,
1
The man who is fo impertinent as to re-
buke others for a miſbehaviour of which he
himſelf is guilty, muſt be either a hypo-
crite, a ſenſeleſs creature, or an impudent
fellow. It is ſtrange that mankind, being
fo apt to act wrong in moſt particulars,
ſhould at the ſame time be ſo prone to ca-
lumny and detraction. One would think
that they who err fo notoriouſly and fre-
quently themſelves, ſhould be rather tender
in concealing, than officious in carping at
the faults of their fellow-finners; eſpecially,
conſidering that it is natural to be miſled by
our paſſions and appetites into ſome exceſs
or other, but unnatural and inhuman to im-
peach
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop. SI
peach others of miſcarriages, of which our.
felves are equally guilty.
The Creaking Wheel.
THE coachman hearing one of the wheels
of his coach creak, was ſurpriſed; but more
eſpecially when he perceived that it was the
worſt wheel of the whole fet, and which
he thought had but little pretence to take
ſuch a liberty. But, upon his demanding
the reaſon why it did ſo, the wheel reply-
ed, that it was natural for people who la-
boured under any affliction or infirmity to
complain.
.
APPLICATION.
Though we naturally deſire to give vent
to the fulneſs of our heart, when it is charg-
ed with grief, and though by uttering our
complaints, we may happen to move the
compaſſion of thoſe that hear us, every thing
conſidered, it is beſt to repreſs :ud keep
them to ourſelves; or, if we muſt let our
forrow ſpeak, to take care that it is done
in folitude and retirement.
Da
The
52
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
The Ant and the Graſshopper,
IN the winter-ſeafon, a commonwealth
of ants was buſily employed in the mana-
gement and preſervation of their corn; which
they expoſed to the air, in heaps, round
about the avenues of their little country ha-
bitation. A graſshopper, who had chanced
to outlive the ſummer, and was ready to
ftarve with cold and hunger, approached
them with great humility, and begged that
they would relieve his neceſſity, with one
grain of wheat or rye.
One of the ants
aſked him, how he had diſpoſed of his time
in ſummer, that he had not taken pains, and
laid in a ſtock, as they had done. Alas,
gentleman, ſays he, I paſſed away the time
merrily and pleaſantly, in drinking, ſinging,
and dancing, and never once thought of win-
ter. If that be the caſe, replied the ant,
laughing, all I have to ſay is, that they
who drink, fing, and dance in ſummer,
muſt ſtarve in winter.
:
APPLICATION.
As ſummer is the ſeaſon of the year, in
which the induſtrious and laborious huſband-
man gathers and lays up ſuch fruits as may
ſupply
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop. 53
ſupply his neceſſities in winter; fo youth
and manhood are the times of life which we
fhould employ and beſtow in laying in ſuch
a ſtock of all kind of neceſſaries, as may
fuffice for the craving demands of helpleſs
old age. Yet, notwithſtanding the truth
of this, there are many of thoſe, which we
call rational creatures, who live in a me-
thod quite oppoſite to it, and make it their
buſineſs to ſquander away, in a profuſe pro-
digality, whatever they get in their young-
er days; as if the infirmity of age would
require no fupplies to ſupport it; or, at leaſt,
would find them adminiſtered to it in ſome
miraculous way.
From this fable we learn this admirable
leſion, never to loſe any preſent opportuni.
ty of providing againſt the future evils and
accidents of life. While health, and the
flower and vigour of our age remain firm and
entire, let us lay them out to the beſt ad.
vantage; that when the latter days take hold
of us, and ſpoil us of our ſtrength and abi-
lities, we may have a ſtore moderately ſuf-
ficient to fubfift upon; which we laid up, in
the morning of our age.
D4
The
54
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
The Peacock's Complaint.
THE Peacock preſented a memorial to
Juno, importing how hardly he thought he
was uſed in not having as good a voice as
the nightingale; how that pretty animal was
agreeable to every ear that heard it, while
he was laughed at for his ugly ſcreaming
noiſe, if he did but open his mouth. The
goddeſs, concerned at the uneaſineſs of her
favourite bird, anſwered him very kindly,
to this purpoſe: but you have the advanta-
ge in point of beauty and largeneſs of per-
fon. The vivid blue of the fapphire glitters
in your neck; and, when you ſpread your
tail, a gemmy brightneſs ſtrikes the eye
from a plumage varied with a thouſand glow.
ing colours. Ah! ſays he; but what avails
my ſilent unmeaning beauty, when I am ſo
far excelled in voice! The goddeſs diſmiſſed
him, bidding him conſider, that the proper-
ties of every creature were appointed by
the decree of fate; to him beauty; ſtrength
to the eagle; to the nightingale a voice of
melody; the faculty of ſpeech to the par-
rot; and to the dove innocence. That
each of theſe was contented with its own.
peculiar quality; and, unleſs he had a
mind
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 55
mind to be miſerable, he muſt learn to be
fo too.
APPLICATION.
Since all things, as Juno ſays, are fixed
by the eternal and unalterable decree of fa-
te, how abſurd is it to hear people complain
and torment themſelves for that which it is
impoſſible ever to obtain! They who are
ambitious of having more good qualities,
fince that is impracticable, ſhould ſpare for
no pains to cultivate and recommend thoſe
they have; which, a fourneſs, and peevith-
neſs of temper, inſtead of improving, will
certainly leſſen and impair, whether they
are of the mind or body. If we had all the
deſirable properties in the world, we could
be no more than eaſy and contented with
them; and, if a man, by a right way of
thinking, can reconcile himſelf to his own
condition, whatever it be, he will fall little
Ihort of the moſt complete ſtate that mor-
tals ever enjoy.
D5
D 5
5
LES-
56
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
LESSON VIII.
The Wolf and the Kid.
THE goat going abroad to feed, thut up
her young kid at home, charging him
to bolt the door faſt, and open it to nobo.
dy, till ſhe herſelf ſhould return. The
wolf, who lay lurking juſt by, heard this
charge given, and ſoon after came and knock-
ed at the door, counterfeiting the voice of
the goat, and defiring to be admitted. The
kid, looking out at the window, and find-
ing the cheat, bid him go about his buſi-
nefs; for, however he might imitate a goat's
voice, yet he appeared too much like a wolf
to be truſted.
APPLICATION.
As it is impoſſible that young people
ſhould ſteer their courſe aright in the world,
before they are acquainted with the fituation
of the many dangers which lie in their way;
it is therefore neceſſary that they ſhould be
under the government and direction of thoſe
who are appointed to take the charge of their
education, whether they are parents, or tu-
tors
Fables of the briſe Aeſop. 57
tor's by them intrufted with the inſtruction
of their children. If a child has but reaſon
enough to conſider at all, how readily ſhould
it embrace the counſel of its father! how
attentively liſten to his precepts! and how
ſteadily purſue his advice! the father has
already walked in the difficult wilderneſs of
life, and has obſerved every danger which
lies lurking in the paths of it, to annoy
the footſteps of thoſe who never trod the
way before. Of theſe, with much tender-
neſs and fincere affection, he makes a diſco-
very to his fon; telling him what he muſt
avoid, and directing him how to make a
ſafe, honourable, and advantageous journey.
When therefore the child refuſes to follow
the directions of fo ſkilful a guide, fo faith-
ful, fo loving, and ſo fincere a friend, no
wonder if he falls into many miſchiefs,
which otherwiſe he might have eſcaped, un-
pitied and unlamented by all that know him,
becauſe he obſtinately contemned the kind
admonitions of him that truely wiſhed and
intended his happineſs, and perverſely fol-
lowed the examples of thoſe who decoyed
him out of the way of virtue, into the thor-
ny mazes of vice and error. Nor ſhould
children take it ill, if the commands of their
parents
58
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
1
parents fometimes ſeem difficult and dis-
agreeable; perhaps, upon experiment, they
may prove as diverting as if they, had fol.
lowed their own choice; this however, they
may be aſſured of, that all ſuch cautions are
intended out of true love and affection, by
thoſe who are more experienced than them-
felves, and therefore better judges what
their conduct ſhould be.
The Wolf, the Fox, and the Ape..
THE wolf indicted the fox of felony,
before the ape, who upon that occaſion
was appointed ſpecial judge of the cauſe.
The fox gave in his anſwer to the wolf's
accufation, and denied the fact. So, after
a fair hearing on both ſides, the ape gave
judgement to this purpoſe, I am of opinion
that you, ſays he to the wolf, never loft
the goods you ſue for: and as for you,
turning to the fox, I make no queſtion,
ſays he, but you have ſtolen what is laid to
your charge, at leaſt. And thus the court
was diſmiſſed, with this public cenſure paf-
fed upon each party.
APPLI.
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 59
APPLICATION.
A man that has once blemiſhed his cre-
dit by knavery, will not be believed for the
future, even though he ſhould ſpeak the truth.
One would think the confideration of this
ſhould be fome obftruction to lying and
cheating, and a diſcouragement to the
profeſſors of that faculty. Whoever is de-
tected of voluntary deliberate falſehood,
although no cognizance is had of it by the
public, will yet be for ever deteſted by
the honeft difcret part of his acquaintance;
and though he may eſcape all manner of pe-
nalty from the law of the land in which he
lives, yet all that know him will lay him
ander at tacit private condemnation, and
treat him for ever after as an out-law, and
an excommunicated perſon.
Jupiter and the Afs.
A CERTAIN aſs which belonged to a
gardener, and was weary of carrying his
heavy burthens, prayed to. Jupiter to give
him a new maſter: Jupiter, conſenting to
his petition, gave him a tile-maker, who
loaded
60 Fables of the wife Aeſop.
loaded him with tiles, and made him carry
heavier burthens than before. Again he came,
and made fupplication, befeeching the god
to give him one that was more mild; or, at
leaſt, to let him have any other maſter but
this. Jupiter could not chooſe but laugh at
his folly; however, he granted his requeſt
this time alſo, and made him over to a tan-
But as ſoon as the poor aſs was ſen-
ſible what a maſter he had got, he could
not forbear upbraiding himſelf with his great
folly and inconſtancy, which had brought
him a maſter, not only more cruel and
acting than any of the former, but one that
would not ſpare his very hide after he was
dead.
ner.
X-
APPLICATION.
This fable is a lively repreſentation of the
inſtability of mankind, who are ſeldom or
never contented with their own lot.
The Ape and the Fox.
THE ape meeting the fox, one day,
humbly requeſted him to give him a piece
of his fine long bruſh tail, to cover his poor
naked
Fables of the life Aeſop.
61
naked backſide, which was expoſed to all
the violence and inclemency of the weather;
for, ſays he, Renard, you have already
more than you have occafion for, and a
great part of it even drags along in the dirt.
The Fox anſwered, that as to his having
too much, that was more than he knew;
but be it as it would, he had rather ſweep
the ground with his tail as long as he lived,
than deprive himſelf of the leaſt bit to co-
ver the ape's naſty ſtinking poſteriors.
APPLICATION.
One can't help conſidering the world, in
the particular of the goods of fortune, as a
kind of lottery; in which ſome few are in-
titled to prizes of different degrees; others,
and thoſe by much the greateſt part, come
off with little or nothing. Some, like the
fox, have even larger circumſtances than they
know what to do with, inſomuch, that they
are rather a charge and incumberance, than
of any true uſe and pleaſure to them. Others,
like the poor ape's cafe, are all blank; not
having been ſo lucky as to draw from the
wheel of Fortune, wherewith to cover their
nakedneſs, and live with tolerable decency.
The
62
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
The all wiſe diſpoſer of events does certain.
ly permit theſe things for juſt and good pur-
poſes, which our thallow underſtanding is
pot able to fathom.
The Countryman and the Snake.
A VILLAGER, in a froſty, ſnowy
winter, found a ſnake under a hedge, al-
inoſt dead with cold. He could not help
having a compaſſion for the 'poor creature,
ſo brought it home and laid it upon the
hearth near the fire; but it had not lain there
long, before, being revived with the heat,
it began to erect itſelf, and fly at his wife
and children, filling the whole cottage with
dreadful hiſſings. The countryman hearing
an outcry, and perceiving what the matter
was, catched up a mattock, and ſoon dis-
patched him, upbraiding him at the ſame
time in theſe words: Is this, vile wretch,
the return you make to him that ſaved your
life? Die as you deſerve; but a ſingle
death is too good for you.
APPLI.
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
63
APPLICATION.
It is the nature of ingrates to return evil
for good; and the moraliſts in all ages have
inceſantly declaimed againſt the enormity of
this crime; concluding that they who are
capable of hurting their benefactors, are not
fit to live in a community; being fuch, as
the natural ties of parent, friend, or coun-
try, are too weak to reſtrain within the
bounds of ſociety. Indeed the fin of ingra-
titude is ſo deteſtable, that none but the
moſt inhuman temper can be guilty of it.
LESS ON IX.
The Wolves and the Sick Afs.
AN Afs being fick, the report of it was
ſpread abroad in the country, and fome
did not ſtick to ſay, that ſhe would die be-
fore another night went over her
over her head.
Upon this, ſeveral wolves came to the ſta-
ble where ſhe lay, under pretence of mak.
ing her a viſit; and rapping at the door, and
alking how ſhe did, the young aſs came out
and told them, that his mother was much
better than they deſired.
VOL. III.
E
APPLI
61
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
APPLICATION.
The charitable viſits which are made to
many fick people, proceed from much the
fame motive with that which prevailed upon
the wolves to pay their duty to the ſick aſs,
namely, that they may come in for ſome
ſhare of their remains, and feaſt themſelves
upon the reverſion of their goods and chat-
tles. We cannot, therefore, without plea-
ſure, ſee theſe ſelfiſh viſitants diſcovered
through their maſk of charity, and treated
with ſuch a reſerve, as neighbours of their
ſort juſtly challenge.
The Dog in the Manger.
A Dog was lying upon a manger full of
hay. An ox being hungry, came near,
and offered to eat of the hay; but the en-
vious illnatured cur, getting up and ſnarling
at him, would not ſuffer him to touch it.
Upon wbich the ox, in the bitterneſs of his
heart, ſaid, a curſe light on thee, for a ma-
licious wretch, who wilt neither eat hay,
thyſelf, nor ſuffer others to do it!
APPLI-
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
65
APPLICATION.
Envy is the moſt unnatural and unaccount.
able of all the paſſions. There is ſcarce
any other emotion of the mind, however
unreaſonable, but may have ſomething ſaid
in excuſe for it; and there are many of the-
ſe weakneſſes of the foul, which, notwith-
ſtanding the wrongneſs and irregularity of
them, ſwell the heart, while they laſt,
with pleaſure and gladneſs. But the envious
man has no ſuch apology as this to make;
the ſtronger the paſſion is, the greater tor.
ment he endures; and ſubjects himſelf to a
continual real pain, by only wiſhing ill to
others. Envy, which is an anxiety arifing
in our minds, upon our obſerving accom-
pliſhments in others, which we want our-
felves, can never receive any true comfort,
unleſs in a deluge, a conflagration, a plague,
or ſome general calamity that ſhould befall
mankind: For, as long as there is a creatu-
re living that enjoys its being happily within
the envious man's fphere, it will afford nou.
riſhment to his diſtempered mind: but ſuch
nouriſhment, as will make him pine, and
fret, and emaciate himſelf to nothing.
E2
Thu
66
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
The Dove and the Ant.
THE ant, compelled by thirſt, went to
drink in a clear purling rivulet; but the cur-
rent, with its circling eddy, ſnatched her
away, and carried her down the ſtream. A
dove, pitying her diſtreſſed condition, crop-
ped a branch from a neighbouring tree, and
let it fall into the water, by means of which
the ant ſaved berſelf, and got aſhore. Not
long after, a fowler, having a deſign upon
the dove, planted his nets, and all his lit-
tle artillery, in due order, without the bird's
obſerving what he was about; which the ant
perceiving, juſt as he was going to put his
deſign in execution, ſhe bit him by the heel,
and made him give ſo ſudden a ſtart, that
the dove took the alarm, and flew away.
APPLICATION.
One good turn deſerves another; and gra-
titude is excited by fo poble and natural a
fpirit, that he ought to be looked upon as
the vileſt of creatures, who has no ſenſe of
it. It is, indeed, fo very juſt and equita-
ble a thing, and ſo much every man's duty,
that to ſpeak of it properly, one ſhould not
mention it as any thing meritorious, or that
may
Fables of the Iriſe Aeſop:
67
may clajm praiſe and admiration; any more
than we ſhould ſay, a man ought to be
rewarded or commended for not killing his
father, or forbearing to fet fire to his neigh.
bour's houſe. The bright and fhining piece
of morality, therefore, which is recommend
ed to us in this fable, is ſet forth in the
example of the dove, who, without any obli-
gation or expectation, does a voluntary office
of charity to its fellow.creature in diſtreſs.
The conſtant uninterrupted practice of this
virtue, is the only thing in which we are ca-
pable of imitating the great Author of our
being; whoſe beloved Son, beſides the many
precepts he has given to enforce this duty,
uſed this expreſſion as a common faying, It
is more blesſed to give, than to receive.
The Eagle and the Crow.
AN eagle flew down from the top of a
high rock, and ſettled upon the back of a
lamb; and then inſtandly flying up into the
air again, bore his bleating prize aloft in
A crow who fat upon an elm,
and beheld this exploit, reſolved to imitate
it; fo flying down upon the back of a ram,
and
his pounces.
E 3
68
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
and intangling his claws in the wool, he
fell a chattering, and attempting to fly;
by which means he drew the obſervation of
the ſhepherd upon him, who, finding his
feet hampered in the fleece of the ram,
eaſily took him, and gave him to his boys
for their ſport and diverſion.
APPLICATION.
Every quality which is excellent and com-
mendable, is not, however, always a proper
object for our imitation. We ought to ſtate
our own account honeſtly and fairly, that
we may ſee what our abilities are, and how
our circumſtances ftand: otherwiſe, we may
not only become ridiculous to others, but
prejudicial to ourſelves, by fome auk ward
and illjudged emulation, though it happen
to be in qualification truely laudable and
great. It behoves every man to exert a
good ſhare of induſtry towards the advan-
cement of his intereft, or, if he pleaſes, of
his reputation.
The Fox and the Lion.
THE firſt time the Fox faw the lion,
he fell down at his feet, and was ready to
die
Fables of the wiſe Ae fop.
69
die with fear. The ſecond time he took
courage, and could even bear to look upon
him. The third time he had the impuden-
ce to come up to him, to falute him and
to enter into familiar converſation with
him.
APPLICATION.
From this fable we may obſerve the two
extremes in which we may fail, as to a
proper behaviour towards our fuperiors:
the one is a baſhfulneſs, proceeding either
from a guilty mind, or a timorous ruſticity:
the other,
an over-bearing impudence,
which aſſumes more than becomes it, and
ſo renders the perſon inſufferable to the con-
Werfation of well-bred reaſonable people.
The Country Mouſe and the City Mouſe.
AN honeſt, plain, fenfible country mouſe,
is ſaid to have entertained at his hole, one
day, a fine mouſe of the town. Having
formerly been play-fellows together, they
were old acquaintance, which ſerved as an
apology for the viſit. However, as maſter
of the houſe, he' thought himſelf obliged to
do
E A
70
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
do the honours of it, in all reſpects, and to
make as great a ſtranger of his gueſt as he
poſſibly could. In order to this, he fet be-
fore him a reſerve of delicate greypeaſe and
bacon, a diſh of fine oatmeal, fome parings
of new cheeſe; and, to crown all with a
defert, a remnant of a charining mellow
apple. In good manners, he forbore to eat
any himſelf, left the ſtranger ſhould not have
enough; but, that he might ſeem to bear
the other company, fat and nibbled a piece
of a wheaten ſtraw; very buſily. At laſt,
ſays the ſpark of the town, old crony, give
me leave to be a little free with you: How
can you bear to live in this naity , dirty,
melancholy hole here, with nothing but
woods, and meadows, and mountains, and
rivulets about you? Do not you prefer
the converſation of the world to the chirp.
ing of birds, and the ſplendour of a court
to the rude aſpect of an uncultivated derart?
Come, take my word for it, you will find
it a change for the better. Never ſtand
conſidering, but away this moment. Re-
member, we are not immortal, and there.
fore have no time to loſe. Make ſure of
to day, and ſpend it as agreeably as you
can, you know not what may happen to-
morrow.
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
morrow. In ſhort, theſe and ſuch like argu-
ments prevailed, and his country acquaint-
ance was refolved to go to town that night.
So they both ſet out upon their journey
together, propoſing to ſneak in after the
cloſe of the evening. They did fo; and,
about midnight, made their entry into a cer-
tain great houſe, where there had been an
extraordinary entertainment the day before,
and feveral tit bits, which ſome of the ſer-
vants had purloined, were hid under the ſeat
of a window: the country gueſt was imme-
diately placed in the midſt of a rich Perſian
carpet; and now it was the courtier's turn
to entertain, who indeed acquitted himſelf
in that capacity with the utmoſt readineſs
and addreſs, changing the courſes as elegant.
ly, and taſting every thing firſt as judicious-
ly as any clerk of a kitchen. The other fat
and enjoyed himſelf like a delighted epicu-
re, tickled to the laſt degree with this new
turn of his affairs; when on a ſudden,
noiſe of ſomebody opening the door, made
them ſtart from their ſeats, and ſcuttle in
confuſion about the dining room. Our coun-
try friend, in particular, was ready to die
with fear at the barking of a huge maſtiff or
two, which opened their throats juſt about
E 5
the
a
72
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
the fame time, and made the whole houſe
echo. At laſt, recovering himſelf, Well,
ſays he, if this be your town-life, much
good may do you with it: give me my poor
quiet hole again, with my homely, but
comfortable grey peaſe.
APPLICATION.
A moderate fortune, with a quiet retire.
ment in the country, is preferable to the
greateſt affluence which is attended with care
and the perplexity of buſineſs, and inſepa-
rable from the noiſe and hurry of the town,
The practice of the generality of people of
the beſt taſte, it is to be owned, is direct-
ly againſt us in this point; but, when it is
conſidered, that this practice of theirs pro-
ceeds rather from a compliance with the fa-
ſhion of the times, than their own private
thoughts, the objection is of no force. Among
the great numbers of men who have receiv-
ed a learned education, how few are there
but either have their fortunes entirely to
make; or, at leaſt, think they deſerve to have,
and ought not to loſe the opportunity of get-
ting ſomewhat more than their fathers have
left them! The town is the field of action
for
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
73
for voluntiers of this kind; and whatever
fondneſs they may have for the country,
yet they muſt ſtay till their circumſtances
will admit of a retreat thither. But ſure
there never was a man yet, who lived in
a conftant return of trouble and fatigue in
town, as all men of buſineſs do in fome
degree or other, but has formed to himſelf
fome end of getting a fufficient competen-
cy, which may enable him to purchaſe a
quiet poſſeſſion in the country, where he
may indulge his genius, and give up his
old age to that eaſy ſmooth life, which, in
the tempeſt of buſineſs, he had ſo often long-
ed for.
LESSON X.
The Mice in Council,
T
HE mice having called a general coun.
cil; and having met, after the doors
were locked, entered into a free conſultation
about ways and means, how to render their
fortunes and eſtates more ſecure from the
danger of the cat. Many things were of
fered, and much was debated pro and con,
upon
74
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
upon the matter.
At laſt a young mouſe,
in a fine florid ſpeech, concluded upon an
expedient, and that the only one, which
was to put them for the future entirely out
of the power of the enemy; and this was,
that the cat flould, wear a bell about her
neck, which upon the leaſt motion, would
give the alarm, and be a ſignal for them to
retire into their holes. This ſpeech was re-
ceived with great applauſe, and it was even
propoſed by fome, that the mouſe who made
it ſhould have the thanks of the aſſembly.
Upon which, an old grey mouſe, who had
fat filent all the while, ſtood up, and in
another ſpeech, owned that the contrivance
was admirable, and the author of it without
doubt an ingenious mouſe; but, he ſaid, he
thought it would not be ſo proper to vote
him thanks, till he ſhould further inform
them how this bell was to be faſtened about
the cat's neck, and what mouſe would un-
dertake to do it.
APPLICATION,
Many things appear feaſible in fpeculation,
which are afterwards found to be impractica-
ble. And ſince the execution of any thing is
that which is to complete and finiſh its very
ex-
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
75
exiſtence, what raw counſellors are thoſe
who adviſe the management of things in their
nature incapable of anſwering their own ex-
pectations, or their promiſes to others.
The Huſbandman and the Stork.
THE huſbandman pitched a net in his
fields to take the cranes and geefe, which
came to feed upon the new.fown corn. Ac-
cordingly, he took ſeveral, both cranes and
geeſe: and among them, a ftork, who plead-
ed hard for his life, and, among other apo-
logies which be made, alledged, that he
was neither gooſe por crane, but a poor
harmleſs ſtork, who performed his duty to
his parents to all intents and purpoſes, feed-
ing them when they were old, and, as oc-
cafion required, carrying them from place
to place upon his back.
All this may be
true, replies the huſbandman; but, as I have
taken you in bad company, and in the ſame
crime, you muſt expect to ſuffer the fame
puniſhment.
APPLICATION.
If bad company had nothing elſe to make
us fhun and avoid it, this, methinks, might
be
76
Fables of the wiſe Acſop.
be ſufficient, that it infects and taints a man's
reputation to as great a degree as if he were
thoroughly verſed in the wickedneſs of the
whole gang. What is it to me, if the thief,
who robs me of my money, gives part of
it to build a church? Is he ever the leſs
a thief? No, ſuch mixtures of religion and
fin make the offence but the more flagrant,
as they convince us, that it was not com-
mitted out of ignorance.
The Shepherd's Boy.
A CERTAIN fhepherd's boy kept his
ſheep upon a common, and in ſport and wan-
tonneſs would often cry out, The wolf, the
wolf. By this means he ſeveral times drew
the huſbandmen in an adjoining field, from
their work, who finding themſelves delud-
ed, reſolved, for the future, to take no
notice of his alarm. Soon after, the wolf
came indeed. The boy cried out in earneſt;
but no heed being given to his cries, the
ſheep were devoured by the wolf.
APPLICATION.
He that is detected for being a notorious
liar, beſides the ignominy and reproach of
thc
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 77
the thing, incurs this miſchief, that he will
ſcarce be able to get any one to believe him
again, as long as he lives. However true
our complaint may be, or how much foe-
ver it may be for our intereſt to have it be-
lieved, yet if we have been frequently caught
tripping before, we ſhall hardly be able to
gain credit to what we relate afterwards.
The Trumpeter taken Priſoner,
A TRUMPETER being taken priſoner, in
a battle, begged hard for quarter, declaring
bis innocence, and proteſting, that he nei-
ther had, nor could kill any man, bearing
no arms but only his trumpet, which he was
obliged to found at the word of command.
For that reaſon, replied his enemies, we
are determined not to ſpare you; for though
you yourſelf never fight, yet, with that
wicked inſtrument of yours, you blow up
animoſity between other people, and ſo are
the occaſion of much bloodſhed.
APPLICATION.
A man may be guilty of murther, who
has never handled a ſword, or pulled a trig-
ger,
78
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
ger, or lifted up his arm with any miſchiev-
ous weapon.
There is a little incendiary
called the tongue, which is more venomous
than a poiſoned arrow, and more killing
than a two-edged fword. The moral of the
fable, therefore is this, that if in any civil
inſurrection, the perſons taken in armis againſt
the government deſerve to die, much more
do they whoſe tongues gave birth to the fedi-
tion and excited the tumult. When wicked
prieſts, inſtead of preaching peace and cha-
rity employ that engine of ſcandal, their
tongue, to foment rebellions, whether they
ſucceed in their deſigns, or no, they ought
to be feverely puniſhed; for they have done
what in them lay, to fet folks together by
the ears; they have blown the trumpet, and
ſounded the alarm; and if thouſands are not
deſtroyed by the ſword, it is none of their
faults.
The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing.
A WOLF clothing himſelf in the ſkin of
a fheep, and getting in among the flock,
by this means took the opportunity to de-
vour many of them. At laſt the ſhepherd
diſcover
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
79
diſcovered him, and cunningly faſtening a
rope about his neck, tied him up to a tree,
which ſtood hard by. Some other ſhepherds
happening to paſs that way, and obſerving
vhat he was about, drew near, and expref-
fed their admiration at it. What, ſays one
of them, brother, do you make hanging
of ſheep? No, replies the other; but I make
hanging of a wolf whenever I catch him,
though in the habit and garb of a ſheep.
Then he ſhowed them their miſtake, and
they applauded the juſtice of the execution.
APPLICATION.
This fable ſhows us, that no regard is
to be bad to the mere habit or outſide of
any perſon, but to undiſguiſed worth and
intrinſic virtue. When we place our elteem
upon the external garb, before we inform
ourſelves of the qualities which it covers,
we may often miſtake evil for good, and
inſtead of a ſheep, take a wolf into our
protection. Therefore, however innocent
or fanctified any one may appear as to the
veſture wherewith he is clothed, we fall
act rafhly, becauſe we may be impoſed
upon, if from thence we take it for grant-
VOL. III.
F
ed,
80
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop:
ed, that he is inwardly as good and right-
eous as his outward robe would perſuade
us he is.
The Mouſe and the Weafel.
A LITTLE, ſtarvling, thin-gutted rogue
of a mouſe, had, with much puſhing and
application, made his way through a ſmall
hole into a corn-baſket, where he ſtuffed
and crammed ſo plentifully, that when he
would have retired the way he caine,
he
found himſelf too plump, with all his en-
deavours, to accompliſh it. A weaſel, who
ſtood at ſome diſtance, and had been divert-
ing himſelf with beholding the vain efforts
of the little fat thing, called to him, and
faid, Harkye, honeſt friend, if you have a
mind to make your eſcape, there is but one
way for it; contrive to grow as poor and
lean as you were when you entered, and
then, perhaps, you may get off.
APPLICATION.
They who, from a poor mean condition,
infinuate themſelves into a good eſtate, are
not always the moſt happy.
There is,
many
A
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop. 81
many times, a quiet and content attending
a low life, to which the rich man is an
utter ſtranger. Riches and cares are almoſt
inſeparable, and whoever would get rid of
the one, muſt content himſelf to be diveft-
ed of the other. He that has been acquaint-
ed with the ſweets of a life free from the
incumberance of wealth, and longs to enjoy
them again, muſt ſtrip himſelf of that in-
cumberance, if ever he means to attain his
willies.
Some, from creeping into the loweſt fta-
tions of life, have, in proceſs of time, fil-
led the greateſt places in it; and grown fo
bulky by purſuing their inſatiate appetite
after money, that, when they would have
retired, they found themſelves too opulent
and full to get off. There has been no ex-
pedient for them to creep out, till they
were ſqueezed and reduced in ſome meaſure,
to their primitive littleneſs. They that fill
themſelves with that which is the property
of others, ſhould always be fo ferved be-
fore they are ſuffered to eſcape.
F
LES
82
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
LESSON XI.
The Dog invited to Supper.
A
GENTLEMAN having invited an ex-
traordinary friend to fup with him, or-
dered a handſome entertainment to be pre-
pared. His dog, obſerving this, thought
with himſelf, that now would be a good
opportunity for him to invite another dog,
a friend of his, to partake of the good cheer.
Accordingly he did fo; and the ſtrange dog
was conducted into the kitchen, where he
faw miglity preparations going forward.
Thought he to himſelf, this is rare! I ſhall
fill my belly charmingly, by and by, with
ſome of thoſe dainties! I'll eat enough to
laſt me a week; Oh! how nicely and de-
liciouſly ſhall I feed! While he ſtood and
thought thus with himſelf, his tail wagged,
and his chops watered exceedingly; and this
drew the obſervation of the cook towards
him; who, feeing a ſtrange cur, with his
eyes intent upon the victuals, ſtole foſtly
behind him, and, taking him up by the
two hind legs, threw him out of a window
into the ſtreet. The hard ſtones gave him
a
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
83
a very ſevere reception, he was almoſt
ftunned with the fall; but recovering him-
ſelf, he ran yelping and crying half the
length of a ſtreet; the noiſe of which
brought ſeveral other dogs about him; who,
knowing of the invitation, began to enquire.
how he had fared ? Oh, ſays he, admi.
rably well; I never was better entertained
in my life; but, in troth, we drank a little
too hard ; for my part, I was fo overtaken,
that I ſcarce know which way I got out of
the houſe.
APPLICATION.
They are ſtrangers to the world, who
are ſo vain as to think they can be well
with any one by proxy; they may, by this
means, be cajoled, bubbled, and impoſed
upon; but are under great uncertainty as to
gaining their point, and may probably be
treated with ſcorn and deriſion in the end.
The Aſs eating Thiſtles.
AN aſs was laden with good proviſions
of ſeveral forts, which, in tine of harveſt,
F 3
he
8.4
Fables of the wiſc Aeſop.
he was carrying into the field for his ma-
fter and the reapers to dine upon. By the
way he met with a fine large thiſtle, and,
being very hungry, began to mumble it;
wbich while he was doing, be entered into
this reflection: How many greedy epicures
would think themſelves happy, amidſt ſuch
a variety of delicate viands as I now carry ?
But, to me, this bitter prickly thiſtle is
more favory and reliſhing than the moſt ex-
quiſite and fumptuous banquet.
APPLICATION,
Happineſs and miſery, and oftentimes plea-
ſure and pain, exiſt merely in our opinion,
and are no more to be accounted for, than
the difference of taſtes. That which is one
man's meat, is another man's poiſon, is a
propoſition that ought to be allowed in all
particulars, where the opinion is concern-
ed, as well as in eating and drinking.
The Hart and the Vine.
A Hart being purſued hard by the hun-
ters, hid himſelf under the broad leaves of
a fhady ſpreading vine. When the hunters
were
Fables of the wiſe defop.
85
were gone by, and had given him over
for loft, he, thinking himſelf very ſecure,
began to crop and eat the leaves of the vine.
By this means the branches being put into
a ruſtling motion, drew the eyes of the hun-
ters that way; who, ſeeing the vine ſtir,
and fancying ſome wild beaſts had taken
covert there; ſhot their arrows at a venture
and killed the hart; who before he expired,
brayed out his dying words to this purpo-
fe: Ah! I fuffer juſtly for my ingratitude;
who could not forbear doing an injury to
the vine, that fo kindly concealed me in
time of danger.
APPLICATION.
Ingratitude has been always eſteemed the
greateſt of crimes, and what, as it were,
comprehends all other vices within it. Nor
can we ſay, that this eſtimation is rafhly or
unadviſedly made; for he that is capable of
injuring his benefactors, what will he fcru-
ple towards another? If his conſcience can't
be felt with the weight of an obligation
added to it, much leſs will it have any in-
fluence where there is none.
the whole, we may conclude, that the man
who has been once guilty of ingratitude,
F 4
will
So that, upon
86
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
will not ſtick at any other crimes of an in-
ferior nature.
The Blackmoor.
A CERTAIN man having bought a black-
moor was ſo ſimple as to think that the
colour of his ſkin was only dirt and filth,
which he had contracted, for want of due
care, under his former maſter. This fault
he fancyed might eaſily be removed! So he
ordered the poor black to be put into a tub,
and was at a conſiderable charge in provid.
ing afhes, foap, and ſcrubbing bruſhes, for
the operation. To work they went, rub-
bing and ſcouring his ſkin all over, but to
no manner of purpoſe; for when they had
repeated their waſhings ſeveral times, and
were grown quite weary, all they got by
it was, that the wretched Aethiopian caught
cold and died.
APPLICATION,
Many people attempt impoſſibilities, for
want of conſidering the nature of things
aright. For, as palpable a blunder as this
man in the fable committed, there are thoſe
who
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
87
who are guilty of as great miſtakes; eſpe.
cially when they endeavoor, by fruitleſs
cultivations, to raiſe graces from toe mind
or body, of which neither is capable. In
ſhort, when people learn to dance without
ſhape and mien, to fing, or play on muſic,
without a voice or an ear, painting or poe.
try without a genius, it is attempting to
waſh the blackmoor white, They can ne-
ver attain their end, but at the ſame time
expoſe themſelves to the jocoſe humours of
thoſe that behold them.
The Jackdaw and the Sheep.
A JACKDAW fat chattering upon the back
of a theep. Peace, you noiſy thing, ſays
the ſheep; if I were a dog you durft not
ſerve me ſo. That's true enough, replies
the jackdaw, I know very well who I have
to do with: I never meddle with the furiy
and revengeful; but I love to plague ſuch
poor helpleſs creatures as you are, that can't
do me any barm again.
APPLICATION.
Many people in the world are of the tem-
per of this jackdaw in the fable, who do
miſchief
F 5
88
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
mifchief for miſchief's fake; and, at the ſame
time, are never fo well pleaſed as when
they do it to the innocent and undeſerving.
They love themſelves too well to offer an
injury to one of their own malicious prin-
ciples, for fear of a ſuitable return; but de-
ſire no better grounds, at any time, for
being hurtful, than the proſpect of being ſo
with impunity. How inconſiſtent are ſuch
proceedings as theſe with honour and gene-
roſity! How oppoſite to the character of a
great and a good man! and how directly
contrary to the rules preſcribed for the be-
haviour of noble and heroic ſpirits!
The Lark and her Young Ones.
A LARK, who had young ones in a field
of corn which was almoſt ripe, was under
fome fear left the reapers fhould come to
reap it before her young brood were fledg-
ed, and able to remove from the place.
Wherefore, upon flying abroad to look for
food, ſhe left this charge with them: That
they ſhould take notice what they heard
talked of in her abſence, and tell her of it
when ſhe came back again. When ſhe
!
WAS
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 89
was gone, they heard the owner of the
corn call to his fon: Well, ſays he, I think
this corn is ripe enough; I would have you
go early to.morrow, and deſire our friends
and neighbours to come and help us to reap
it. When the old lark came home, the
young ones fell a quivering and chirping
round her, and told her what had happen-
ed, begging her to reinove them as faſt as
ſhe could. The mother bid them be eaſy;
for, ſays ſhe, if the owner depends upon
friends and neighbours, I am pretty ſure
the corn will not be reaped to-morrow.
Next day ſhe went out again, upon the
fame occaſion, and left the ſame orders with
them as before. The owner came, and
ſtayed, expecting thoſe he had ſent to; but
the fun grew hot, and nothing was done,
for not a ſoul came to help him.' Then,
ſays he to his fon, I perceive theſe friends
of ours are not to be depended upon, ſo that
you muſt e'en go to your uncles and cou-
fins, and tell them I deſire they would be
here betimes to-morrow morning to help us
reap. Well, this the young ones, in a
great fright, reported alſo to their mother.
If that be all, ſays ſhe, don't be frighten-
ed, children, for kindred and relations do
not
90
Fables of the wiſe Aeſop.
not uſe to be ſo very forward to ſerve one
another: but take particular notice what you
hear faid the next time, and be ſure you
let me know it. She went abroad the next
day, as uſual; and the owner finding his re-
lations as ſlack as the reſt of his neighbours,
faid to his fon, Harkye, George, do you
get a couple of good fickles ready againſt
to-morrow morning, and we will e'en reap
the corn ourſelves. When the young ones
told their mother this, Then, ſays ſhe, we
muſt be gone indeed! for, when a man un-
dertakes to do his buſineſs himſelf, 'tis not
ſo likely that he will be diſappointed. So
ſhe removed her young ones immediately,
and the corn was reaped the next day by the
good man and his ſon.
APPLICATION.
Never depend upon the affiftance of friends
and relations in any thing which you are
able to do yourſelf; for nothing is more
fickle and uncertain. The man who relies
upon another for the execution of any affair
of importance, is not only kept in a wretch-
ed and flavifh fufpence, while he expects
the iflue of the matter, but generally meets
with a diſappointment. While he, who
lays
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
91
lays the chief ſtreſs of his buſineſs upon
himſelf, and depends upon his own induſtry
and attention for the ſucceſs of his affairs,
is in the faireſt way to attain his end.
A
LESSON XII.
The Shepherd turned Merchant.
SHEPHERD who kept his ſheep near
the ſea, one clear ſummer's day drove
them cloſe to the ſhore, and ſat down upon
a piece of a rock to enjoy the cool breeze
that came from the water. The green ele-
ment appeared calin and ſmooth; and Thetis
with her train of ſmiling beautiful nymphs
ſeemed to dance upon the floating ſurface
of the deep. The ſhepherd's heart thrilled
with ſecret pleaſure, and he began to wiſh
for the life of a merchant. O how happy,
ſays he, fhould I be, to plow this liquid
plain, in a pretty, tight veſſel of my own!
and to viſit the remote parts of the world,
inſtead of fitting idly here to look upon a
parcel of ſenſeleſs ſheep, while they are
graſing! then what ample returns ſhould I
make in the way of traffick! and wbat a
Thort
92
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
ſhort and certain path would this be to ri.
ches and honour! In ſhort, this thought was
improved into a reſolution; away he poſted
with all expedition, fold his flock, and all
that he had; then he bought a bark, and fit-
ted it out for a voyage; he loaded it with
a carge of dates, and fet fail for a mart
that was held upon the coaſt of Aſia; five
hundred leagues off. He had not been long
at fea, before the wind began to blow tem-
peſtuouſly, and the waves to rage and ſwell;
the violence of the weather increaſed upon
him, his ſhip was in danger of ſinking, and
he was obliged to lighten her, by throw-
ing all his dates over board: after this; his
veſſel was driven upon a rock near the ſhore,
and ſplit to pieces; he himſelf hardly eſcap-
ed with life. Poor, and deſtitute of ſub-
ſiſtence, he applied himſelf to the man who
had bought his flock, and was admitted to
tend it as a hireling. He fat in the fame
place as before, and the ocean again look-
ed calm and ſmooth. Ah! ſays he, deceit-
ful, tempting element, in vain you try to
engage me a ſecond time; my misfortunes
have left me too poor to be again deluded
the ſame way; and experience has made me
ſo wiſe as to reſolve, whatever my condi.
tion
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 93
tion may be, never to truſt thy faithleſs bo-
ſom more.
APPLICATION.
Bought wit is beſt: And the more variety
of diſappointments we meet with, the grea-
ter will be our experience, and the better
we ſhall be qualified to rub through the
world. Mankind has a ſtrange propenſity
for things that are new and untryed; and
ſo ſtrong a bias inclines them to ſhifting and
changing, that every one difreliſhes his own
profeſſion, and wiſhes he had been of ſome
other employment.
The Man and the Gnat.
AS a clowniſh fellow was ſitting upon a
bank, a gnat fettled upon his leg, and ſtung
it. He clapped his hand with great vehe.
mence upon the place, with intention to
kill the gnat; but the little nimble infect,
ſkipping lightly between his fingers, eſcap-
ed; and every time he ſtruck, he gave him-
ſelf a finart blow upon the leg, without
being in the leaſt able to touch the gnat.
This provoked him very much, fo that in
the
94
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
the height of his paſſion he fell to invoking
Hercules. O mighty Hercules, ſays he, ſince
nothing can withſtand thy power, aid me
I beſeech thee, againſt this pernicious gnat,
and with thy invincible ſtrength, fubdue him,
in compaſſion to me, miſerable creature,
who am tormented with his venomous fting.
APPLICATION.
How many
Many people, like the clown in the fable,
are apt to invoke the Almighty upon every
little trifling accident that befals them, not
in an habitual unmeaning exclamation, ſuch
as children and childiſh folks uſe; but in a
ſerious deliberate meditation, conceived in a
fit of rapture, and delivered from the cloſet
in the uſual reaſon of devotion. How
things are prayed for with much earneſtneſs,
wbich, if we were to inquire into them, are
mere vanities, and ſuch as we ought to be
afhamed of having! Not that the ſupreme
Being, who is all knowing, and preſent
every where, can be ſuppoſed to be igno-
rant of every little thought of our fouls; or
unable to comply with the multiplicity of
our wiſhes: But it is contrary to his exalt-
ed nature to condeſcend to our paltry ſelfiſlı
ſchemes, or to grant any of thoſe petitions,
which
Fables of the wife Aeſop. 95
which we ourſelves, if we conſidered, ſhould
be aſhamed to put up,
The Deer and the Lion:
A DEER, being hard purſued by the
hounds, found a cave, into wbich he ruſhed
for ſecurity. Bat he was no fooner got in
than he ſaw himſelf in the power of a lion,
who lay couched at the farther end of the
cave, and fprung upon him in an inſtant:
Being at the point of death, he complained
thus: Unhappy creature that I am! I enter-
ed this cave to eſcape the purſuit of men and
dogs, and ain fallen into the jaws of the
moſt cruel and rapacious of all wild beaſts.
APPLICATION.
Some are ſo unfortunate, as to be ever
running into troubles and difficulties: their
ill luck ſeems to ride them through a ſeries
of misfortunes; and, in the mean time, like
ftunbling horſes, the more they are ſpurred,
the oftener they flounce along in the dirty
and the more trips they make.
VOL. III.
G
The
96
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
The Raven and the Serpent.
À HUNGRY raven, flying about in queli
of his prey, ſaw a ſerpent baſking himſelf
upon the ſide of a funny bank: down he
ſouſed upon him, and feifed him with his
horny beak, in order to devour him: but
the ferpent, writhing to and fro with the
pain, bit the raven again with his venomous
teeth, to ſuch a degree, that he could not
ſurvive it. The raven, in the agonies of
death, is ſaid to have confefied that this
judgement happened to him juſtly; ſince
he had attempted to ſatisfy his craving appe-
tite, at the expence of another's welfare.
APPLICATION.
They who are of a ravenous greedy tem-
per, and for ſwallowing all that comes in
their way, may chance to meet with a ſting
in the end. When people are actuated by
an inſatiable avarice, they ftick at nothing;
without conſidering the lawfulneſs, or in-
deed the real emolument at fnapping at all,
right or wrong, down it goes: and, if it
has but the appearance of gain, they are
for making-ſeiſure, let the conſequence be
what it will,
The
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
לס
The Maſter and bis Scholar.
AS a ſchoolmaſter was walking upon the
bank of a river, not far from his ſchool, he
heard a cry as of one in diſtreſs; advancing
a few paces farther, he ſaw one of his fcho-
lars in the water, hanging by the bough of
a willow. The boy had, it ſeems, been
learning to ſwim with corks, and now think:
ing himſelf ſufficiently experienced, had
thrown thoſe implements aſide, and ventur.
ed into the water without them; but the
force of the Itream having hurried him out
of his depth, he had certainly been drown.
ed, had not the branch of a willow, which
grew on the bank, providentially hung in
The maſter took up the corks,
which lay upon the ground, and throwing
them to bis ſcholar, made uſe of this oppor.
tunity to read a lecture to him, upon the in-
conſiderate raſhneſs of youth. Let this be
an exainple to you, ſays he, in the conduct
of your future life; never to throw away
your corks, till time has given you ſtrength
and experience enough to ſwim without
them:
his way.
APPLI.
98
Fables of the wife Aeſop.
APPLICATION.
Some people are ſo vain and ſelf-conceit:
ed, that they will run themſelves into a
thouſand inconveniencies, rather than be
thought to want aſſiſtance in any one reſpect.
Now there are many little helps and accom-
modations in life, which they who lanch out
into the wide ocean of the world, ought to
make uſe of as ſupporters to raiſe and buoy
them up, till they are grown ſtrong in the
knowledge of men, and ſufficiently verſed
in buſineſs to ſtem the tide by themſelves.
END of the THIRD VOLUME.
GULLIVER'S LECTURES
Vol. IV.
CONTAINING
THE RENOWNED HISTORY
OF
THE
W Η Ι Τ Ε
CAT,
AND 0
OTHER
INTERESTING
STORIES,
Vol. IV.
PREFACE.
THERE is ſomething ſo intereſting
and amuſing in the peruſal of well
written tales, that I am confident I need
ſay but little to recommend them to the
attention of iny Lilliputian pupils and rea-
ders. I would however wiſh to remind
them, that the regions of enchantment,
and the power and dominion of fairies,
are inventions of very ancient date. Befo-
re inankind had the holy and bleſſed fcrip-
tures to direct them, their minds were
led away by error and prejudice; and, as
they knew nothing of the true nature of
God, nor of his bleſſed Son Chriſt, they
were led to repreſent that amazing inter-
poſing power of Providence, which they
every day perceived, under the characters
of fairies, and other imaginary beings,
who
A 2
4
PREFACE.
who never had any exiſtence. However,
even in theſe enlightened days, ſo much
found inorality and good doctrine have
been found in theſe ancient pieces, that
the reading of them has not only been
permitted, but even recommended to young
people. Indeed, the tales here preſented
to my little readers are not very antique,
but rather modern ones written on the
ancient plan, and more peculiarly adapted
to render little folks at once both wiſe and
happy.
THE
1
5
THE
STORY
OF THE
W
H. I T
H I Τ Ε
Ç A T.
T:
СНАР. І.
Account of a certain King and his three Sons.
HERE was a king who had three
fons, all handfome, brave young genta
lemen: but jealous that they ſhould defire
to reign before his death, he cauſed ſeveral
reports to be fpread abroad, that they en-
deavoured to procure themſelves creatures
to deprive him of his crown. The king
found himſelf very old, but his fenfe and
capacity of government no ways decayed;
ſo that he cared not to reſign up a place
he filled fo worthily, and thought that the
beſt way for him to live at quiet, was to
amuſe them by promiſes. To this end he
took them into his clofet; where, after he
had talked to them with great candour, he
ſaid, “You will agree with me, my chil.
dren,
A 3
6 Story of the white Cat.
dren, that my great age will not allow me
to apply myſelf to the affairs of the public
with ſo much care as formerly; and I am
afraid my ſubjects will not be ſo well pleas-
ed with my adminiſtration: therefore I in-
tend to reſign my crown to one of you.
But as it is very juſt that you ſhould ſtrive
to pleaſe me with ſome preſent, and as I
deſign to retire into the country, I ſhould
be very glad to have a pretty little dog to
keep me company: therefore, without hav-
ing more regard to my eldeſt than my youn.
geſt, I declare to you, that he of you who
brings me the moſt beautiful dog ſhall be my
heir."
The three princes were very much ſur-
priſed at their father's deſire for a little dog.
The two younger, were extraordinarily
well pleaſed at this propoſal; but the elder,
though vexed, was either too timorous or
reſpectful to repreſent his right. However,
they took their leaves of the king, who gave
them money and jewels, telling them, That
they muſt all return without fail in a year's
time, on a certain day, with their dogs.
But before they ſet out on this ſearch, they
all went to a caſtle three leagues off, whe-
se they made an entertainment, and invited
their
Story of the White Cat.
7
their moſt truſty friends and confidents, be.
fore whom the three brothers (wore an eter.
nal friendſhip to one another, promiſing ne.
ver to be jealous of each other's good for-
tune; but that the moſt ſucceſsful ſhould let
the other two partake with him, appointing
that caſtle for their place of rendezvous,
and from thence to go all together to the
king
They every one took a different road
without any attendants; and as for the two
eldeft, they had a great many adventures:
but as the particulars are not ſo well known
to me, I ſhall paſs them over in ſilence, and
ſpeak only of the youngeſt, who was a youth
of bright parts, and brave even to a fault.
Not a day paſſed over his head, but he
bought dogs of ſome kind or other, hounds;
greyhounds, ſpaniels, &c. that were pretty,
keeping always the moſt beautiful, and let-
ting the others go; for it was impoſſible for
him to keep all the dogs he had purchaſed,
ſince he had neither gentleman, page, por
any other perſon along with him: however,
he kept going on, without fixing on any
certain place; when he was ſurpriſed one
night in a large foreſt, where he could find
no ſhelter, by a ſtorm of thunder, lights
*
ņing
8
Story of the White Cat.
ning, and rain. Still he purſued the road,
and went a long way, when ſeeing a ſmall
light, he perſuaded himſelf fome houfe was
near, where he might get a lodging that
night. Following the lights, he arrived at
the gates of a ſtately caſtle, which were
all of maffy gold; in which were carbun-
cles, which gave that extraordinary light
which the prince ſaw fo far off. The walls
were of fine china, whereon the hiſtories of
all the fairies ſince the creation of the world
were repreſented; but the r..in and ill
weather would not ſuffer our prince to ſtay
to examine them all though he was charm-
ed to find the adventures of Prince Lutin,
who was his uncle, among the reſt.
He returned to the door, after having
rambled ſome paces off, and there found a
deer's foot at the end of a chain of diamonds,
which made him admire the magnificence:
he pulled, and ſoon heard a bell which, by
the found, he judged to be either gold or
filver; and ſome time after the door opened,
and he faw no perfon, but only twelve hands,
each holding a flambeau; at which fight he
was very much furpriſed, and was in di.
fpute whether or no he ſhould proceed any
farther, when, to his great amazement, he
felt
Story of the White Cat,
9
felt ſome others behind him, which puſhed
him forwards; whereupon he advanced with
his hand on his ſword, though very uneaſy,
and, as he thought, in ſome danger: when
going into a wardrobe he heard two fweet
voices ſing theſe words:
With unconcern behold there hands,
And dread no falſe alarms,
If you are ſure you can withſtand
The force of beauty's charms.
He could not believe he was invited to
kindly to ſuffer any injury, which made him,
finding himſelf forced forwards, to go to a
great gate of coral, which opened as foon
as he approached it, and he went into a ball
of mother of pearl, and thence into ſeveral
chambers adorned and enriched with paint-
ings and jewels; a vaſt number of lights that
were let down from the ceiling of the ball,
contributed to light ſome part of the other
apartments, which beſides were hung round
with glaſs ſconces. After having gone into
fixty chambers, the hands that conducted
him ſtopped him, and he ſaw a great eaſy
chair make up towards him, the fire light
of itſelf, and the hands, which were both
white and finely proportioned, undreſſed
him, he being wet, and in fome danger of
catching
to Story of the White Cat.
catching cold.
A fine ſhirt; and a night-
gown of gold brocade; with cyphers and
ſmall emeralds, were given him, and a ta-
ble and toilet brought by theſe hands. Eve.
ry thing was very grand: the hands comb.
ed out his hair with a lightneſs that gave
him pleaſure, and afterwards dreſſed him
in extraordinary fine clothes, while he not
only ſilently admired them, but at laſt be.
gan to be in ſome little fright. When he
was dreſſed, they conducted him into a to
tely hall, richly furniſhed, where he face
in fine painting, the ſtories of the moſt fa.
inous cats; as Rodillardus hung by the
Heels in a Council of Rats, the Cat in Boots,
the marquis de Carabas, the Writing Cat,
the Cat turned Woman, Witches in the Sha.
pes of Cats, with their nightly ineetings,
&c. all very odd and fingular.
Two cloths were laid, both garniſhed
with gold plate, with beaufets ſet out with
a vaſt number of glaſſes, and cups made of
valuable ſtones; and while the prince was
thinking with himſelf what they were laid
for, he ſaw ſome cats come and place them.
ſelves upon a bench ſet there for that pur.
poſe, one holding a muſick-book, another
with a roll of paper, to beat time with,
and
Ștory of the White Cat.
ii
and the reſt with ſmall guittars: when all on
a ſudden they eyery one ſet up a mewing
in different tones, and ſtruck the ſtrings
with their talons, which made the ſtrangeit
muſick that ever was heard. While he was
calling to mind the ſeveral things that had
happened fince his being in this caſtle, he
faw a little figure about half a yard high
come forward in a veil of black crape, led
by two cats in mourning clokes, with
words by their fides, and followed by a
numerous train of cats; ſome carrying rats;
and ſome mice in traps and cages:
The prince was in the greateſt amazės
ment, and knew not what to think; when
the little figure in black coming up to him,
and lifting up its veil, he ſaw the prettieſt
little White Cat he ever had ſet his eyes on,
which ſeemed to be young, but with all
very melancholy, and ſet up ſuch an agreea-
ble and charming mewing, as went to the
prince's heart.
“Prince, ſaid ſhe, you
are welcome; it is a pleaſure to me to ſee
“Madam Pufs, replyed the
prince, you are very generous to receive
me fo graciouſly; but you appear to me to
be a cat of extraordinary merit: for the gift
you enjoy of ſpeech, and this ſtately.caſtle
you
you here..
2
Story of the White Cat:
Let us go
you poſſeſs, are convincing proofs of it."
“Prince, anſwered the White Cat, I deſire
you would forbear your compliments, for
I am both plain in my diſcourſe and man-
ners, but have a good heart.
ſaid ſhe, to ſupper, and bid the muſicians
leave off; for the prince does not underſtand
what they fay” “What, ſaid he, do they
then ſay any thing?" "Yes, anſwered the
White Cat, we have poets, and great wits,
and if you will ſtay with us, you ſhall be
convinced of it.” “I need but hear
"you
ſpeak to believe that, anſwered he gallantly,
for I look on you as on ſomething inore than
common."
Supper was brought up, the hands ſet on
the table two diſhes of ſoup, one made of
young pigeons, and the other of fat mice.
The light of the one hindered the prince
from eating of the other, funcying that the
fame cook had drefled both : which tlie Whi.
te cat gueſſing at, aſſured bin that ſhe had
two kitchens, and that he might eat of what-
ever was ſet before him, and be confident
there was 110 rats or mice in any thing of.
fered him. The prince, who believed that
this beautiful cat would not deceive him;
Wanted not to be told to twice. He obſerved
Story of the White Cat.
13
The prin.
a little picture to hang upon her foot, at
which he was not a little ſurpriſed, and
aſked her to ſhow it him, thinking it might
be ſome fine puſs, a lover of the White
Cat; but was in a maze to ſee a handſome
young man, who'reſembled him very much.
The White Cat fighed, and growing melan-
choly; kept a profound filence.
ce perceived that there was ſomething ex.
traordinary in it, but durft not inform him.
ſelf for fear of diſpleaſing or grieving bis
kind entertainer. He diverted her with all
the news he knew, and found her very
well acquainted with the different intereſts
of princes, and other things that paſſed in
the world. When ſupper was done, the
Whire Cat carried her gueſt into a hall, whe-
re there was a ſtage, on which twelve cats,
and as many apes, danced a maſk in Moo-
riſh and Chineſe habits; and when this was
over, the White Cat bid her gueſt good.
night, and the hands led him into an apart-
ment oppoſite to that which he had ſeen,
but no leſs magnificent: it was hung with
tapeſtry, made of the wings of butterflies,
the variety of which colours formed moſt
beautiful flowers. The bed was of fine gau-
ſe, tied with bunches of ribbon, and the
VOL. IV.
B
glafles
14
Story of the White Cat.
glaſſes reached from the ceiling down to the
floor, and the pannels between repreſented,
in carved work, thouſands of Cupids.
The prince went to bed, and ſlept a lite
tle; but was awakened again by a confuſed
noiſe. The hands took him out of bed, and
put him on a hunting habit. He looked out
of the window, and ſaw about five hundred
cats, fome leading greyhounds, and others
blowing horns; it being that day a great
feaſt, whereon the White Cat had a mind
to go a hunting, and was willing that the
prince ſhould partake of that diverſion. The
hạnds preſented to him a wooden horſe, that
had a good ſpeed and eaſy paces, which he
made fome fcruple to mount, alledging, they
took him for Don Quixote; but bis refuſal
fignified nothing, they ſet him on the woo.
den horſe, which was finely capariſoned,
with a faddle and houſing of gold, beſet
with diamonds. The white Cat rid on a
moſt beautiful ape, having thrown off her
veil, and put on a hat and feather, which
gave ſo bold an air, as frightened all the
mice that ſaw her. Never was there better
fport; the cats outran the mice and rabbits,
and whenever they took one, the White
Cat always paunched its prey, and gave
thein
Story of the White Cat.
IS
them their fees. For the birds, they were
not in much greater ſecurity; the cats climb.
ed up the trees, and the ape carried the
White Cat up to the eagles neſts. When
the chace was over, ſhe took a horn of about
a finger's length, which, when founded,
was ſo loud, that it might be heard ſome
leagues; and as ſoon as ſhe blowed, ſhe had
preſently all the cats in the country about
her, fome mounted in chariots in the air,
and ſome in boats, but all in different ha-
bits, which made a fine ſhew. With this
pompous train ſhe and the prince returned
to her caſtle, who thought it favoured very
much of forcery; but was more ſurpriſed at
the cat's ſpeaking than all the reft.
As ſoon as ſhe came home, ſhe put on
her black veil again, and ſupped with the
prince, whom the freſh air had got a good
Itomach; the hands brought him fine liquors,
which he not only drank of with pleaſure,
but made him forget the little dog he was
to procure for his father: his thoughts were
bent on bearing the White Cat company
and he ſpent his time in hunting and fiſhing
and fometimes in balls and plays. The
White Cat made ſuch paſſionate ſongs and
verſes, that he began to think ſhe had a
В
tender
16 Story of the White Cat.
tender heart, ſince ſhe could not expreſs
herſelf as ſhe did, and be inſenſible of the
power of love, but her ſecretary, who was
an old cat, writ fo bad a hand, that ſhould
any of her' works remain, it would be im-
poſſible to read them. The prince had for-
gotten his country, the hands ſtill waited
on him, and he regretted his not being a
cat, that he might paſs his life in ſuch plea-
fant company. “Alas! faid he to the White
Cat, how forry am I to leave you, ſince I
love you dearly! Either become a woman,
or change me into a cat." Which wiſh
the White Cat only anſwered in obſcure
words, though ſhe was mightily pleaſed
with it.
CHAP. II.
Account of the ſurpriſing Aliſtance the young
Prince receives from the White Cat.
THU
Hus a year ſlipped away free from cara
and pain. The White Cat knew the
time he was to return, and, as he did not
think of it, put him in mind thereof. “Do
not you know, ſaid ſhe, that you have bat
three
Story of the White Cat.
17
three days to find a little dog in, and that
your brothers have got ſome very fine ones?”
This rouzed the prince out of his lethargy:
"By what ſecret charm, cryed he, have I
forgotten the only thing in the world, that
is of the greateſt importance to me? What
will become of my honour and fortune?
Where ſhall I find a little dog beautiful
enough to gain a kingdom, and a horſe ſwift
enough to make diligent ſearch after one ?"
Then beginning to afflict himſelf, and grow
uneafy, the White Cat faid to him, "Do
not grieve, prince, I am your friend; you
may ſtay here a day longer yet; for though
it is five thouſand leagues off, the good woo-
den horſe will carry you there in leſs than
twelve hours." “I thank you, beautiful
cat, faid he, but it is not enough for me
to return to my father; I muſt carry with
me a little dog.” “Here, take this acorn,
faid the White Cat, it has a beautiful little
dog in it; put it to your ear, and you will
hear it bark." The prince obeyed, heard
it bark, and was tranſported with joy: he
would have opened it, fo great was his cu.
tiofity; but the White Cat told him it might
catch cold, and he had better ſtay till he
gave it to his father. He thanked her a thou-
fand
B 3
18
Story of the White Cat,
fand times, and bid her a tender farewel,
aſſuring her that he never paſſed his days fo
pleaſantly as with her, and that he was griev-
ed to leave her behind him; addivg, that
though ſhe was a ſovereign, and had great
court paid to her, yet he could not forbear
aſking her to go along with him: to which
propoſition ſhe only anſwered with a figh.
The prince came firſt to the caſtle, that
was appointed for the rendezvous with his
brothers, who arrived ſoon afterwards, but
were very much furprized to ſee a wooden
horſe in the court, that leaped better than
any in the academies. The prince went to
meet them; they embraced, and gave each
other an account of their adventures; but
our prince took care to conceal the truth of
bis, and fhowed them only an ugly turnſpit,
telling them that he thought him very pretty:
at which, though they were very good
friends, the two eldeft conceived a fecret
joy. The next day they all three went to
gether in the fame coach to the king. The
two eldeſt carried their dogs in baſkets fo
white and delicate, that none durft hartly
touch them; and the youngeſt had his poor
deſpicable turnſpit in a ſtring. When they
came to the palace, the courtiers crowded
about
!
Story of the White Cat.
19
about them, to welcome them home. The
king, when they came into his apartment,
knew not in whoſe favour to declare, for
the two little dogs that the elder brothers
brought were almoſt of equal beauty, when
the youngeſt pulling the acorn out of his
pocket, which the White Cat gave him, put
an end to the difference. As ſoon as he
opened it, they all ſaw a little dog laid on
cotton, and ſo ſmall, that he might go
through a ring and never touch it. The
prince ſet it on the ground, and prefently
it began to dance a faraband with caſtanets,
as nimble and as well as the beft Spaniard.
It was of a mixture of ſeveral colours, its
ears and long hairs reached to the ground.
The king was very much ſurpriſed, and
though it was impoffible to meet with any
thing ſo beautiful as Tonton, by which
name it was called, yet he was not very
ready to part with his crown, the leaſt gem
of which was dearer to him than all the
dogs in the world.
He told his children,
that he was very well pleafed with the pains
they had taken, but that they had fucceeded
ſo well in the firſt thing he had deſired, that
he had a mind to make further proof of their
abilities before he performed his promiſe:
B +
and
20
Story of the White Cat.
and that was, he would give them a year
to find out a web of cloth fine enough to
go through the eye of a finall working
needle. They all ſtood ſurpriſed and con.
cerned, that they were to go again upon
another ſearch; however, the two elder
ſeemed the more ready, and all three parted
without making ſo great a profeſſion of
friendſhip as they did the firſt time; for the
ftory of the turnſpit had ſomewhat abated
it.
Our prince mounted his wooden horfe
again, and without looking after any other
aſſiſtance than what he might expect from
the friend hip of the White Cat, returned
in all diligence to the caſtle, where he had
been ſo well received; where he not only
found all the doors open, but the windows,
walls, and walks illuminated. The hands
came and niet him, held bis horſe's bridle,
and led him into the ſtable, while the prince
went to the White Cat's chamber, who was
laid in a little baſket, on a quilt of white
fattin, When fhe ſaw the prince, ſhe made
a thouſand ſkips and jumps, to expreſs her
joy, and ſaid, “Whatever reaſon I might
have, prince, to hope for your return, I
muſt own I durft not flatter myſelf with it;
ſince
Story of the White Cat.
21
Since I am generally unhappy in what I
moſt deſire, therefore this ſurpriſes me.
The prince, full of acknowledgment, care-
ſed her often, and told her the ſucceſs he
had had in his journey, which ſhe was not
unacquainted with, and that the king requir-
ed a web of cloth fo fine, as it might be
drawn through the eye of a needle, which
he believed was a thing impoffible; but that
however he would not fail to try to pro-
cure ſuch a one, relying on her friendſhip
and aſſiſtance. The White Cat, putting on
a grave air, told him it was an affair that
required fome confideration, that by good
fortune ſhe had in her caſtle fome cats that
ſpun very fine, that ſhe would do what ſhe
could to forward that work, fo that he
might ſtay there, and not trouble himſelf to
ſearch elſewhere, it being unlikely for him
to meet with any ſo eaſily.
The time pafled in agreeable entertain-
ments, with which the ingenious White Cat
diverted her gueſt, who was perhaps the
firſt mortal that was fo well entertained by
cats without any other company. Indeed
the White Cat had a ready wit, and could
diſcourſe on any ſubject, which often put
the prince into a great conſternation, and
made
B 5
22
Story of the White Cat.
made him fay to her, “Certainly, all this
that I obſerve to wonderful in you, cannot
be natural; therefore tell me by what pro-
digy you think and fpeak ſo juſtly ? " "For.
bear aſking me any queſtions, prince faid
fhe, for I am not allowed to anſwer them,
but you may conjecture what you pleaſe;
let it ſuffice that I have ufed you with re-
fpect, and that I intereſt myſelf tenderly in
what regards you.”
The ſecond year rolled away inſenſibly, ,
as well as the firſt; the prince wiſhed for
nothing, but the diligent hands brought it
to him, whether books, jewels, fine pictu-
res, or antique medals, &c. when the Whi-
te Cat, who was always watchful for the
prince's intereft, informed him that the time
of his departure drew nigh; but that he
might be eaſy concerning the web of cloth,
for ſhe had a wonderful fine one made; and
added with all, that this time ſhe would
give him an equipage fuitable to his birth;
and without waiting for an anſwer; obliged
him to look into the great court of the caſt
le, in which there waited an open chariot
of emboffed work in gold, in ſeveral gallant
devices, drawn by twelve milk white horſes,
four a breaſt, wliofe harnefles were cover:
ed
;
Story of the H'hite Cat.
23
ed with velvet of fire-colour, which was
the ſame as the lining of the chariot, beret
with diamonds, and the buckles of gold,
An hundred coaches with eight horfes, full
of the lords of his retinue, magnificently
clothed, followed this chariot, which was
guarded beſides by a thouſand body.guards,
whoſe clothing was fo full of embroidery,
that the cloth was hardly diſcovered; and
what was very ſingular, the White Cat's
picture was ſeen every where, both in
the devices on the chariot, and on the
guards. “Go, prince, faid fhe, and
appear at the king your father's court,
in fo ftately a manner, that your magnifi .
cence may ferve to impofe on him, that he
may refuſe you no longer the crown you
deſerve. Take this walnut, be ſure to crack-
it in his prefence, and you will find in it
fuch a web as you want.” “Lovely Whi-
te Cat, faid he, I own I am fo penetrated
with your bounty, that if you will give
your conſent, I will prefer paffing my days
with you, before all the grandeur I way
promiſe myſelf elfewhere, »
plied fhe, I am perſuaded of the kindneſs
of your heart, which is a rare thing among
princes, who would be reſpected by all the
World,
“Prince, re.
2+
Story of the White Cat.
world, and love none but themſelves; but
you ſhow me this rule is not general. I
make great account of the attachment you
have for a little white cat, that in the main
is fit for nothing but to catch mice.” At
that the prince kiſſed her paw, and went
away.
It is almoſt incredible to believe the hafte
he made, were we unacquainted with the
fwiftneſs of the wooden horſe, who carried
him before five thouſand leagues in leſs
than two days; and the ſame power that
animated him, had ſo great effect upon the
others, that he was not above four-and-
twenty hours upon the road, and never ſtop-
ped till he arrived at the king's palace,
where his two brothers had got before him;
who ſeeing he was not come, rejoiced at
his negligence. Thereupon they pulled out
their webs; which were indeed very fine,
and paſſed them through the eye of a large
needle, but not a ſmall one; which pretext
of refufal the king empracing, went and
fetched the needle he propoſed, which the
magiſtrates, by his order, had carried to
the treaſury, and locked up carefully; this
refuſal raiſed a great murmuring: thoſe that
were friends to the princes, and particularly
the
Story of the White Cat.
25
the eldeſt, whoſe web was the fineſt, faid
it was all a trick and evaſion: and the king's
creatures maintained, that he was not oblig.
ed to keep any other conditions than what
were propoſed; when, to put an end to
this difference, there was heard a ſounding
of trumpets and hautboys, which came be-
fore our prince.
The king and his fons were all ſurpriſed
at this magnificence. The prince, after he
had reſpectfully faluted his father, and em.
braced his brothers, took out of his box,
covered with rubies, a walnut, which he
cracked, thinking to find the web ſo much
boaſted of; but only ſaw a ſmall hazel nut,
which he cracked alſo, and, to his ſurpriſe,
found only a kernel of wax. The king and
every body laughed, to thing that the prin.
ce ſhould be ſo credulous as to think to car-
ry a web of cloth in a nut; but had they
recollected themſelves, they might have re-
membered the little dog that lay in an aeorn.
However, he peeled the kernel, and no.
thing appeared but the pulp itſelf, whereupon
a great noiſe was heard all over the room,
every one having it in his mouth what a
fool the prince was made of; who, for his
part, returned no anſwer to all the pleaſan-
tries
26
Story of the White Cat.
tries of the courtiers, but broke the ket-
nel, and found in it a corn of wheat, and
in that a grain of millet. At the ſight of
this he began to diſtruſt, and muttered to
himſelf, o White Cat! 0 White Cat! thou
haft deceived me! And at that inſtant he felt
a cat's paw upon his hand, which ſcratched
him, and fetched blood; he knew not whe-
ther it was to encourage or diſmay him.
Hewever, he opened the millet-ſeed, and to
the amazement of all preſent, drew out a
web of cloth, four hundred yards long;
and what was more wonderful, there were
painted on it all forts of birds, beaſts and
fiſh, fruits, trees and plants, rocks, and all
manner of rare ſhells of the ſea; the fun,
moon, ſtars and planets; and all the pictus
res of all the kings and princes of the world,
with thoſe of their wives, miſtreſſes, and
children, all drefied after the faſhion of their
own country. When the king faw this
piece of cloth, he turned as pale as the prina
ce was red in looking fo long for it, and
the needle was brought, and it was put
through five or fix times; all which time,
the king and his two fons were filent,
though afterwards, the beauty and rarity
of the cloth was ſo great, they ſaid it was
not
Story of the White Cat.
27
not to be matched in the whole world.
The king fetched a deep figh, and turning
himfelf towards his children, faid to them,
“Nothing gives me ſo much comfort in my
old age, as to be ſenſible of the deference
you have for me, which makes me deſirous
of putting you to a new tryal. Go and tra.
vel another year, and he that brings me the
moft beautiful damſel, ſhall marry her, and
be crowned king; there being an abſolute
neceflity that my fucceffor ſhould marry;
and I fwear and promiſe, I will no longer
defer the reward.”
Our prince ſuffered all his injuſtice; the
little dog and the web of cloth rather de
ſerved ten crowns than one; but he was of
ſo ſweet a diſpoſition, that he would not
thwart his father's will: fo without any de.
lay he got into his chariot again, and with
his train returned to his dear White Cat,
who knowing the day and moment he would
come, had the roads ſtrewed with flowers.
She was laid on a Perſian tapeſtry, under
a canopy of cloth of gold, in a gallery from
whence ſhe could ſee him return. He was
received by the hands that always ferved
him, and all the cats climbed upon the gut.
ter to congratulate his return by a concert
of
28 Story of the White Cat.
of mewing. Well, prince, faid ſhe to him,
I ſee you are come back without your
crown." “Madam, replied he, by your
bounty I was in a condition of gaining it;
but I am perſuaded the king is more loth to
part with it, than I am fond of having it.”
“No matter for that, ſaid ſhe, you muſt
neglect nothing to deſerve it, I will affift
you on this occaſion; and fince you muſt
carry a beautiful damſel to your father's
court, I will look out for one, who ſhall
gain you the prize: but in the interim, let
us be merry, and divert ourſelves. The
prince returned her thanks, and ſaid ſeveral
handfome things on her conduct and pru.
dence.
The prince paſſed this year, as he had
done the two firſt, in hunting, fiſhing and
ſuch diverſions, and often at a game of chefs,
which the White Cat played extraordinary
well at; but he could not forbear often que
ftioning her, to know by what miracle the
fpoke. He aſked her, if ſhe was a fairy,
or if by any metamorphoſis ſhe was turned
into a cat. But as the White Cat was ala
ways capable of ſaying what ſhe had a mind
to, ſhe returned him an anſwer fo inſignifia
cant, that he perceived ſhe was not willing
to
Story of the White Cat.
29
As po-
to communicate this ſecret to him.
thing paſſes away ſo quick as happy days,
if the White Cat had not been ſo careful as
to remember the time the prince was to re-
turn, it is certain he would have quite for.
gotten it.
She told him of it the night be.
fore, and withal, that the hour of deſtroy.
ing the fatal work of the fairies was come;
and therefore he muſt reſolve to cut off her
head and tail, and throw them preſently into
the fire. “What, cried he, fhall I, my
lovely White Cat, be ſo barbarous as to kill
you? You have undoubtedly a mind to make
proof of my heart, but be affured it is in.
capable of wanting that friendſhip and ack.
nowledgement due to you." “No, prin
ce, continued ſhe, I don't fufpect you of
ingratitude; I know your merit; but neither
you nor I can preſcribe to fate: do what
I deſire you, we ſhall thereby be happy;
and you ſhall know, upon the word of a
cat of worth and honour, that I am really
your friend."
Tears ſtarted two or three
times in the young prince's eyes, to think
he muſt cut off the head of his pretty cat,
that had been ſo kind to him, he ſaid all
that he could think moſt tender to engage
her to diſpenſe him with: to which flie an-
VOL. IV.
C
fwered
30
Story of the White Cat.
fwered obſtinately, ſhe would die by his
hand, as that was the only way to hinder
bis brother then having the crown.
In
ſhort; ſhe preſſed him fo earneſtly, that he
trembling, with an unſteady hand, cut off
her head and tail, and threw them prefent-
ly into the fire ; and at the ſame time faw
the moſt charming metamorphoſis imagina-
ble. The body of the White Cat grew
preſently large, and changed all on a fud-
den to a fine lady, fo accompliſhed, as ex-
ceeds deſcription. Her eyes committed
theft upon all hearts, and her ſweetneſs kept
them; her ſhape was majeſtic, her air no.
ble and modeft, her wit flowing, her man-
ners engaging; in a word, ſhe was beyond
every thing that was lovely.
CHAP. III.
The White Cat, having recovered her natural
State, tells tbe young Prince her Story.
TH
HE prince, at the fight of her, was in
ſo agreeable a ſurpriſe, that he thought
himſelf inchanted. He could not ſpeak nor
look at her, and his tongue was fo tied,
that he could not explain his amazement;
which
Story of the White Cat.
3-1
which was much greater, when he ſaw an
extraordinary number of gentlemen and la-
dies, holding their cat-kins over their ſhoul-
ders, come and proſtrate themſelves at the
queen's feet, to teſtify their joy to fee her
again in her natural ſtate, She received
them with all the marks of bounty, which
diſcovered the ſweetneſs of her temper.
After having ſpent fome time in hearing their
compliments, the ordered them to retire,
and leave her alone with the prince; to
whom ſhe ſpoke as follows:
“Think not, Sir, that I have always been
a cat, and that my birth is obfcure. My
father was king of fix kingdoms, loved my
mother tenderly, and gave her liberty to do
what ſhe pleaſed. Her moſt prevailing in-
clination was to travel, inſomuch that when
ſhe was with child of me, ſhe undertook
to go to ſee a mountain, of which ſhe had
heard a moſt ſurpriſing account. As ſhe
was on the road ſhe was told there was nigh
the place ſhe was then at, an ancient caſtle
of fairies, which was the fineſt in the world,
or at leaſt ſaid to be fò; for as no perſon
was ever admitted into it, there could not
be any poſitive judgment pafled thereon:
but for the gardens, they were known to
contain
Ca
32
Story of the White Cat.
contain the beſt fruits that ever were eat;
The queen my mother, who longed to taſte
of them, went thither. But when ſhe came
to the gate of this ſtately edifice, which
ſhined with blue enamelled with gold, no.
body came, though ſhe knocked a long
time; and her defire increaſing the more,
by reaſon of the difficulty, ſhe fent for
ladders to ſcale the walls; but they grow-
ing viſibly to a great height of themſelves,
they were forced to faften the ladders to
another, to lengthen them, and whenever
ány one went up them, they broke under
their weight; ſo that they were either kil:
led or lamed. The queen was in the utmoſt
deſpair to ſee trees loaded with ſuch deli-
cious fruits, and not to taſte of them, which
ſhe was reſolved to do, or die; inſomuch
that ſhe ordered ſome rich tents to be pitch-
ed before the caſtle, and ſtayed there fix
weeks, with all her court. She neither
ſlept nor eat, but fighed continually, and
was always talking of the fruit. In ſhort,
the fell dangerouſly ill, and no remedy
could be found out; for the inexorable fai-
ries never appeared from the time ſhe camé
there. 'All her court were very much griev-
ed; there was nought to be heard but fighs
and
1
Story of the White (.
33
and lamentations, while the dying queen
was continually aſking thoſe that were in
waiting upon her, for fruit; but would eat
of none but what came out of this garden.
One night, after having got a little fleep,
when the awakened ſhe ſaw a little ugly
decrepid old woman fit in an elbow.chair
by her bolſters, and was ſurpriſed that her
women ſhould ſuffer a ſtranger fo near her;
when the ſaid to her, “We think your
majeſty very importunate to be fo ſtubborn
in your deſires of eating our fruit; but fin-
ce your life is in danger, my ſiſters and I
have conſented to give you as much as you
can carry away, and let you eat of them as
long as you ſtay here, provided you will
make us one preſent.
."
“Ah! my good
mother, cried the queen, name it, I will
give you my kingdoms, heart and ſoul, to
have ſome of the fruit: I cannot buy it too
dear." “We would have your majeſty,
ſaid ſhe, give us the daughter you now
bear in your womb. As ſoon as ſhe is
born, we will come and fetch her; the ſhall
be brought up by us, and we will endow
her with all virtues, beauties, and ſciences!
in ſhort, the ſhall be our child, and we
will make her happy: but your majeſty
muſt
C3
34 Story of the White Cat.
muſt obferve, that you muſt never ſee her
any inore till ſhe is married. If you will
agree to this propoſition, I will cure you
immediately, and carry you into our or.
chards, where, notwithſtanding it is night,
you ſhall fee well enough to chooſe what
you would have; but if what I ſay diſplea-
fes your majeſty, goodnight. “Though
what you impoſe on me; replied the queen,
is very hard, yet I accept it rather than
die; for certainly if I cannot live, my child
muſt be loſt; therefore, ſkilful fairy, con-
tinued ſhe, cure me, and let me not be a
moment debarred of the privileges I am in-
titled to thereby.”
The fairy touched her with a little gol-
den wand, ſaying: “Your majeſty is free
from all illnefs.” And thereupon ſhe feem-
ed as if ſhe had thrown off a heavy garment
that had been very troubleſome and incom-
modious to her. She ordered all the ladies
of her court to be called, and with a gay
air told them fhe was extraordinary well,
and would riſe, ſince that the gates of the
fairies palace, which were ſo ſtrongly bar-
rocaded, were ſet open for her to eat of
the fruit, and carry what ſhe pleaſed away.
The ladies thought the queen delirious, and
that
Story of the White Cat.
35
that ſhe was then dreaming of the fruit the
longed ſo much for; infomuch, that inſtead
of returning any anſwer, they fell a crying,
and called in the phyſicians, which delays
put the queen into the utmoſt deſpair; ſhe
aſked for her clothes, and they refuſing her
them, put her into a violent paſſion, which
they looked upon as her fever. In the in-
terim the phyficians came, who, after hay.
ing felt her pulfe, and made their enquiries,
could not deny but that ſhe was in perfect
health. The ladies ſeeing the fault they
had committed through their great zeal,
endeavoured to repair it by dreſſing her
quickly. They every one begged her par-
don, which ſhe granted, and haſtened to
follow the old fairy, who waited for her.
She went into the palace, where nothing
was wanting to make it the fineſt in the
world; which you will the more eaſily be.
lieve, Sir, added the new metamorphoſed
queen, when I ſhall tell you it was this
we are now in. Two other fairies, not
quite fo old as the that conducted my mo-
ther, received her favourably at the gate;
ſhe deſired them to carry her preſently into
the garden, and to thofe trees that bore the
beſt fruits. They told her they were equal-
C4
ly
>
36
Story of the White Cat.
ly good, and that unleſs ſhe would have
the pleaſure of gathering them herſelf, they
would call them to her.” “I beg, ſaid the
queen, that I may have the fatisfaction of
feeing ſo extraordinary an event." Whe.
reupon the elder of the three put her fingers
in her mouth, and blowed three times, and
then cried, apricots, peaches, nectarines,
plumbs, cherries, pears, melons, grapes, ap-
ples, oranges, lemons, gooſeberries, cur-
rants, ſtrawberries, raſberries, come all at
my call. “But, ſaid the queen, theſe fruits
are not all ripe in the ſame ſeaſon.” “Oh,
faid they, in our gardens we have all forts
of fruit always ripe and good, and they ne-
ver diminiſh.”
At the ſame time they came rolling to
them without any bruiſes; and the queen,
who was impatient to ſatisfy her longing,
fell upon them, and took the firſt that of.
fered, which ſhe rather devoured than eat.
When her appetite was fomewhat fatisfied,
ſhe deſired the fairies to let her go to the
trees, and have the pleaſure to gather them
herſelf: to which they gave their confents,
but ſaid to her, at the ſame time, "you muſt
remember the promiſe you have made us,
for you will not be allowed to run back from
it.'
Story of the White Cat.
37
it." “I am perſuaded, replied fhe, that it
is ſo pleaſant living with you, and this pa-
lace is fo charming, that if I did not love
the king my huſband dearly, I would offer
myſelf; therefore you need not fear my re.
tracting from my word." The fairies, who
were very well fatisfied, opened the doors
of their gardens, and all their encloſures,
and the queen ſtayed in them three days and
nights, without ever ſtirring out, ſo deli.
cious ſhe found them, She gathered fruit
for her provifion, and as they never waſted,
loaded four hundred mules ſhe brought along
with her. The fairies added to their fruit,
baſkets of gold of curious work, to carry
them in, and many other very valuable ra.
rities. They promiſed to educate and make
me a complete princeſs, and to chooſe me
out a huſband, and to inform my mother of
the wedding.
The king was overjoyed at the queen's
return, and all the court expreſſed their plea-
fure to ſee her again; there was nothing
but balls, maſquerades, and courſes, where
the fruits the queen brought ferved for deli-
cious regales. The king preferred them be.
fore all other things, but knew not the bar-
gain ſhe had made with the fairies; but of.
C 5
ten
38
Story of the White, Cat.
ten aſked her what country ſhe had been in,
to bring home ſuch good things; to which
ſhe replied, ſhe found them on a mountain
that was almoſt inaceſſible; ſometimes that
ſhe met with them in a valley, and ſometi-
mes in the midſt of a garden or a great fo-
reſt; all which contradictions very much
ſurpriſed the king. He enquired of thoſe
that went with her; but they were all for.
bidden to tell any thing of the matter. At
length the queen, when her time was at
hand, began to be troubled at what ſhe had
promiſed the fairies, and grew very melan .
choly; ſhe fighed every minute, and chang-
ed her countenance.
The king was very
much concerned, and preſſed the queen to
declare what was the cauſe; who with ſome
difficulty told him what had paſſed between
her and the fairies, and that ſhe had pro-
miſed them the daughter ſhe was then big
“What! cried the king, we have
no children, and could you, who know
how much I deſire them, for the eating of
two or three apples, promiſe your daughter?
Certainly you muſt have no regard for me."
And thereupon he loaded her with a thou.
fand reproaches, which made my poor mo-
ther almoſt ready to die for grief: but not
content
with.
Story of the White Cat.
39
content with this, he put her into a tower,
under a ſtrong guard, where ſhe could have
no converſation but with the officers that
were appointed to attend her.
The king
appeared for his part inexorable, and would
not ſee the queen; -but as ſoon as I was born,
made me be brought into his palace to be
nurfed there, while my mother at the fame
time remained a priſoner, and in an ill fta.
te of health. The fairies, wbo were no
ignorant all this while of what paſſed, and
who looked upon me as their own proper.
ty, were ſo provoked, that they reſolved
to have me; but before they had recourſe
to their art, they fent ambaſſadors to the
king, to defire him to ſet the queen at li-
berty, and to reſtore her to his favour again;
and likewiſe to demand me, that I might
be nurſed and brought up by them. The
ambaſſadors were ſo little and deformed;
for they were dwarfs, that the king, inſtead
of granting what they aſked, refuſed them
rudely, and if they had not got away quick-
ly, might have ſerved them worſe.
When the fairies were informed of my
father's proceeding, they were ſo enraged,
that after they had ſent all the plagues ca.
pable of rendering his fix kingdoms deſolate,
they
40
Story of the White Cat.
ed on.
they let looſe a terrible dragon that poiſon-,
ed all the places wherever he came : devour-
rd men, women, and children, and killed
ill trees and plants with the breath of bis
noſtrils. The king finding himſelf reduced
to this extremity, was as laſt prevailed on
to ſubmit to the will of the fairy. He ſent
for the queen, with as much love and ten-
ierneſs as he had made her a priſoner with
anger and paflion; but ſhe was fofallen
away and altered, that he could hardly
know her, if he had not been very certain
ſhe was the perſon he once ſo much doat-
He begged of her, with tears in
his eyes, to forget the ill treatment ſhe had
received from him, which he promiſed her
should be the laſt. She anſwered, that ſhe .
brought it upon herſelf by her imprudence,
in promiſing her child to the fairies; and
that if any thing would plead her excufe,
it was the condition ſhe was then in. I was
put into a cradle of mother of pearl, adorn.
ed as much as poffible by art, with gara
lands of flowers and feſtoons hung round
about it, and the flowers fo intermixed with
jewels of ſeveral colours, that when the
fun reflected upon them, they gave ſuch a
luſtre as dazzled the eyes. The magnifi:
cence
Story of the White Cat.
41
cence of my dreſs exceeded, if that was
poſſible, my cradle. All the bands and rolls
of my ſwaddling clothes were buckled with
large pearls; four-and-twenty princeſſes of
the blood carried me on a kind of a light
litter, all dreſſed in white, to reſemble my
innocence, and were followed by the who-
le court, according to their ranks. Wbile
they were going up the mountain, they
heard a melodious fymphony; and after-
wards the fairies appeared to the number of
fix-and-thirty, for the three had invited all
their friends, each in a ſhell of pearl. They
were exceedingly old and ugly: they car-
ried in their hands olive branches, to fig-
nify to the king, that by his ſubmiſſion, he
had gained their favour. When they took
me, it was with ſuch extraordinary careſſes,
that it ſeemed as if they lived only to make
me happy.
CHAP
42
Story of the White Cat.
CH A P. IV.
The Princeſs, late the White Cat, relates the
Manner in which ſhe was carried off' by the
devouring Dragon, and wbat followed.
HEY took me in their arms,
THE
careffed
me a thouſand times, endowed me with
feveral gifts, and then fell to dancing; and
it is almoſt incredible to believe how theſe
old women jumped and ſkipped. After-
wards the devouring dragon came forward,
the three fairies, to whom my mother pro-
miſed me, placed themſelves upon him, and
ſet my cradle between them; then ſtriking
the dragon with a wand, he preſently dis-
played his large wings, which were as
thin and fine as gauſe, and intermixed with
various colours, and carried them to their
caſtle. You muſt know, prince, continued
ſhe, that my guardians built a tower on
purpoſe for me, wherein there were a thou.
ſand beautiful apartments for all the ſeaſons
of the year, furniſhed with magnificent
goods, and agreeable books; but there were
no doors, and no other coming in but at
the windows, which were prodigious high.
It was ſurrounded by beautiful gardens full
of flowers, and embelliſhed with fountains
and
Story of the White Cat.
43
and arbours of greens, where it was cool
and pleaſant in the hotteſt ſeaſons. Here
the fairies brought me up, and took more
care of me than ever they promiſed the queen
to do. They taught me all that was pro-
per for one of my age and birth to learn;
and they had not much trouble with me,
for there was nothing but what I compre-
hended with great eaſe. They were very
well pleaſed at my ready diſpoſition; and
if I had never ſeen any body beſides them,
I ſhould have been contented to have lived
there all my life.
One ſide of the tower was built upon a
hollow road, fet full of elms and other trees,
which ſhaded it ſo much, that I never faw
any one paſs by while I was there; when
one day, as I was at the window talking
to my parrot and dog, I heard a noife, and
looking about, perceived a young gentleman,
who ſtopped to hear our converſation. I
had never ſeen one before but in paintings,
and was not ſorry that this accident had gi-
ven me the opportunity, infomuch, that
not miſtruſting the danger we run in the fa-
tisfaction we receive by the fight of fo love-
ly an object, I looked at him again, and
the more I looked, the more pleaſed I was.
He
.
44 Story of the White Cat.
He made me a low bow, fixed his eyes on
me, and ſeemed concerned to know how to
talk to me; for my windows being a great
height, he was afraid of being heard, know.
ing that it was a caſtle which belonged to
fairies. Night came upon us all on a ſud-
den, or, to ſpeak more properly, before
we perceived it; he founded his horn twice
or thrice, which he thought to pleaſe me
with, and then went away without my dif-
covering which way he took, it was ſo
dark. I remained thoughtful; the pleaſure
I uſed to take in talking to my parrot and
dog, was no ways agreeable. They ſaid all
the pretty things that could be to me, for
theſe were very witty! but my thoughts
were otherwiſe engaged, and I had not art
enough to diffemble. My parrot obferved
all
my
actions; but made no mention of
what he thought. The next morning I
aroſe with the fun, and ran to my window,
where I was moſt agreeably ſurpriſed to
ſee my ſpark, who was dreſſed magnificent-
ly; in which I flattered myſelf I had fome
fhare, and was not miſtaken. He ſpoke to
me through a ſpeaking-trumpet, told me he
had been till that inſtant infenfible to all the
beauties he had beheld; but found himſelf
fo
Story of the Ilhite Cat.
:45
so ſenſibly touched with me, that he could
not live without ſeeing me. I was mighti.
ly pleaſed with his compliment, but vexed
that I durft not make ſome reply; for I
muſt have bawled out with all my might,
and run the riſque of being heard ſooner
by the fairies than him. I threw him fome
flowers had in my hand, which he took for
fo ſignal a favour, that he kiſited them feve-
ral times, and thanked me. He aſked me
afterwards, if I approved of his coming
every day at the ſame hour under my win-
dow, and if I did, to throw ſomething;
whereupon I preſently pulled off a turquoi.
fe ring, that I had on my finger and caſt it
at him, making a ſign for him to be gone
preſently, becauſe I heard the fairy Violen.
ta coming on the dragon to bring me my
breakfaſt.
The firſt words ſhe ſpoke, when the en-
tered my chamber, were, "I fell the voi.
ce of a man: a ſearch, dragon. Alas!
what a condition was I in! I was ready to
die with fear, left he ſhould find out, and
follow my lover.
ci Iudeed, ſaid I, my
good inama, for the fairy would be called
fo, you banter, when you ſay you ſinell
the voice of a man; can any one ſmell a
VOL.IV.
D
voice
46
Story of the white Cat.
voice? And ſhould it be ſo, what wretch
could be ſo bold as to venture coming up
into this tower?” “What you ſay is very
true, child, ſaid ſhe, I am overjoyed to hear
you argue ſo well: I fancy it is the hatred
I have againſt men, that makes me think
them nigh when they are not: however, I
have brought you your breakfaſt and a dis-
ftaif; beſure fpin; yeſterday you did no-
thing, and my ſiſters are very angry.'
Upon my word, I was ſo taken up with
this ſtranger, that I was not able to work.
As ſoon as her back was turned, I threw
away my diftaff, and went upon the terraſs,
to look as far as my eye would carry, in
an excellent ſpying-glaſs I had; by which,
after having looked about ſome time, I dif-
covered my lover laid under a rich pavillion
of cloth of gold on the top of a high moun-
tain, ſurrounded by a numerous court. I
doubted not but that he was fome ncigh-
bouring king's fon, and was afraid, leſt,
when he came to the tower again, he ſhould
be found out by the terrible dragon. I
went and fetched my parrot, and bid him
fly to that mountain, to defire him, from
me, not to come again, becauſe I was afraid
iny guardian ſhould diſcover it, and he
fhould
Story of the Il'hite Cat,
47
ear.
Thould come into danger. My parrot ac-
quitted himſelf of his commiſſion, and fur-
priſed all the courtiers, to ſee him come
upon full wing, and perch upon the prin.
ce's ſhoulder, and whilper him foftly in his
The prince was both overjoyed and
troubled at this meſſage: my care flattered
his paſſion; but the difficulty there was in
ſpeaking to me, gave hiin as much chagrin.
He aſked the parrot a thouſand queſtions,
and the parrot him as many: for he was
naturally inquiſitive. The prince, in return
for my turquoiſe, ſent me a ring of another,
but much finer than mine, cut in the ſhape
of a heart, and fet round with diamonds;
and told him, that he might treat him more
like an ambaſſador, he would preſent him
with his picture, which he might fhow to
his charming miſtreſs. The picture was tied
under his wings, and the ring he brought
in his bill.
I waited for the return of my green cou.
rier, with an impatience unknown to me
till then. He told me the perſon I ſent him
to was a great king, who had received
him with all the joy poſſible, that I might
aſſure myſelf he lived only for me; and
that though it was very dangerous for him
D 2
to
48
Story of the white Cat.
to come ſo low as my tower, yet he was
deſirous to hazard all to ſee me. This news
had ſuch an effect upon me, that I fell a
crying. My parrot and dog comforted me
the beſt they could, for they loved me
tenderly; and then my parrot delivered the
prince's ring to me, and ſhowed me his pic-
ture. I muſt own I was overjoyed that I
could view fo nigh a perſon I had never
ſeen but at a diſtance. He appeared much
more lovely than he ſeemed, and the diffe-
rent thoughts this fight inſpired me with,
for ſome were agreeable to me, and others
not, made me very uneaſy.
I ſlept not all the night, but talked with
my parrot and dog, and towards morning
began to cloſe my eyes. My dog, who
had a good noſe, ſmelt the king at the foot
of the tower; he awakened the parrot, and
ſaid to him, “I will engage the king is
below." To which the parrot made adi
fwer, "Hold thy tongue, thou prating fool;
becauſe thy eyes and ears are always open,
you are vexed that any body elſe ſhould
have any reft.” “Well, ſaid the dog, I am
fure he is.” “And, replied the parrot, I
am ſure he is not; for I have, from my
miſtreſs, forbidden him coming."
“ You
talk
Story of the White Cat.
49
talk finely of your forbidding him, cried the
dog, a man in love conſults nothing but his
paffion.” Thereupon, pulling the parrot by
the tail, he made ſuch a noiſe that I awo.
ke. They told me of their diſpute ; I ran,
or rather flew to the window, whence I
ſaw the king holding out his arms, who by
his trumpet, told me he could not live with-
out me: that he pofleffed a flouriſhing king-
dom, and conjured me to find out ſome way
to eſcape from my tower, or let him come
to me; calling heaven and all the elements
to witneſs, that he would marry me, and
make me his queen.
I bid my parrot go
and tell him, that what he deſired ſeemed
to me almoft impoffible; that, however,
upon the word he had given, and oaths he
had ſworn to me, I would endeavour to
accompliſh his deſires: but withal, to con-
jure him not to come every day, left
' he
ſhould be diſcovered, which might prove
fatal to us both.
I fent niy parrot that night to bid the
king come under my window, where he
Should find a ladder, and to tell him he
ſhould know more when he came; in ſhort,
I had tied it very faſt, and was determin-
ed to eſcape with him by this imeans; but
D3
he,
so Story of the White Cat.
he, as ſoon as he ſaw it, without waiting
for my coming down, mounted up in haſte,
and threw himſelf into my chamber, as I
was making every thing ready for my flight.
I was ſo overjoyed to ſee him, that I for-
got the danger we were in.
CHAP. V.
The Princeſs relates the cauſe of her being
changed into a White Colt. The Story cloſes
with happy Marriages.
WHILE we were talking together
, with
the ſame tranquillity, as if he had been
in his own palace, we ſaw all on a ſudden
the windows broke open, and the fairies
enter upon their frightful dragon. The kivg,
without any diſmay, clapped his hand on his
fword, and thought of ſecuring and protect-
ing me; when theſe barbarous creatures ſet
their dragon upon him, which devoured him
before my face. Vexed, and in deſpair, I
threw myſelf into the mouth of this dread-
ful monſter, that he might ſwallow me as
he had done the prince, who was dearer
to me than all the world beſides. And I
had certainly undergone the ſame fate ; but
the
Story of the White Cat.
1
ST
the fairies, who were more cruel than the
monſter, would not permit it, but faid I
muſt be reſerved for greater puniſhments;
a quick death was too mild a one for fo
baſe a creature: whereupon touching me,
I found myſelf cbanged into a White Cat.
They conducted me to this ſtately palace,
which belonged to my father, and turned
all the lords and ladies into cats; and for
the reſt of his ſubjects, left of theni only the
hands, which you faw, and reduced me to
that miſerable condition you found me: lets
ting me know at the ſame time my birtli,
the death of my father and mother, and that
I never ſhould be releaſed from this meta:
morphoſis, but by a prince that perfectly re-
ſembled my lover, whom they deprived me
of. You, Sir, have that reſemblance, the
fame features, air, and voice: I was ſtruck
as ſoon as I ſaw you, and was informed of
all that ſhould happen, and am ſtill of all
that ſhall come to paſs: my pains will be
at an end.
“And ſhall mine, fair queen,
ſaid the prince, be of long duration?” “I
love you, Sir, already, more than my life,
ſaid the queen, we muſt go to your father
and know his ſentiments for me, and whe-
ther he will confent to what you deſire.”
D4
After
52
Story of the Mhite Cat.
After this ſhe went out, the prince handed
her into a chariot, which was much more
magnificent than that he had, and then went
into it himſelf. All the reſt of the equipage
anſwered it ſo well, that the buckles of the
horſes harnafles were diamonds and emeralds.
I ſhall ſay nothing of their converſation,
which muſt be very polite, ſince ſhe was
not only a great beauty, but alſo a great
wit; and for the prince, he was no ways
inferior to her therein; ſo that all their
thoughts were bright and lively.
When they came nigh the caſtle where
the brothers were to meet, the queen went
into a cage of cryſtal ſet in gold, which
had curtains drawn about it, that ſhe might
not be ſeen, and was carried by handſome
young men richly clothed. The prince ſtaid
in the chariot, and ſaw his brothers walk-
ing with two princefles of extraordinary
beauty. As ſoon as they knew him, they
came to receive him, and aſked him if he
had brought a miſtreſs along with him; to
which he anſwered, That he had been fo
unfortunate in all his journey, to meet
with none, but what were very ugly; but
that he had brought a pretty White Cat.
* A cat, ſaid they, laughing, wbat was you
afraid
Story of the White Cat.
33
afraid that mice ſhould devour our palace?"
The prince replied, that he was not very
wiſe in making ſuch a preſent to his father,
but it was the greateſt rarity he could meet
with. Afterwards they all bent their courſe
towards the capital town. The two elder
princes and the princefles went in calaſhes
of blue emboſſed with gold, with plumes
of white feathers upon the horſes beads;
nothing was finer than this cavalcade. The
younger prince followed after, and then the
cage of cryſtal, which every body admired.
The courtiers crowded to tell the king that
the princes were arrived, and brought moſt
beautiful ladies along with them; which
news was no ways pleaſing to the king.
The two eldeſt princes were very earneſt to
fhow him the beauties they had brought,
whom he received kindly, but knew not in
whole favour to decide; when looking on
the youngeſt, “What, faid he, are you
come by yourſelf?” *"Your majeſty, re:
plied the prince, will find in this cage a
pretty little cat, which mews and plays fô
fweetly, that you will be very well pleaf-
ed with her." Hereat the king ſmiled, and
was going to open the cage; but as ſoon
as he approached towards it, the queen
with
D 5
54 Story of the White Cat.
with a ſpring broke it in pieces, and ap-
peared like the ſun when he breaks forth
from a cloud.
Her fine hair was ſpread
upon her ſhoulders, and laid in fine large
rings, and her forehead was adorned with
flowers. Her gown was a thin white gauſe,
lined with a roſe-coloured taffety. She
made the king a low curteſy, who in the
exceſs of his admiration, could not forbear
crying out, “This is the incomparable faj-
ry who deſerves my crown. “Sir, ſaid
fhe, I come not to rob you of your crown,
which you wear ſo worthily: I was born
heireſs to fix kingdoms, give me leave to
preſent one of them to you, and one to
either of your fons, for which I ask no
other return but your friendſhip and this
young prince in marriage: three kingdoms
will be enough for us.” The king and all
the court were not able to expreſs their joy
and amazement. The marriages of the
three princes and their princefles were cele
brated at the ſame time, and the court ſpent
ſeveral months in pleaſures and diverſions ;
after which they all went to their domi-
nions, and the White Cat gained as great
honour by her bounty and generoſity, as by
her rare merit and beauty.
PART
.
55.
PART THE SECOND
INTRODUCTION.
HAVING given, in the preceding part
of this volume, the renowned biftory.
of the White Cat, a very intereſting fairy
tale, I ſhall devote the few following pages
to tales of a different nature, one or two of
wbich are founded on real facts, and the
others have long received the approbation
of every good parent and tutor.
indeed, po miracles to amuſe the little rea-
der; but the wiſdom and knowledge they
will acquire from them, and the natural and
pretty incidents they contain, will make am.
ple amends for that deficiency.
Here are,
Singga
56
MISS
Singular Conduct of a Young Lady at Boarding
Scbool, bigbly worthy of Imitation.
ISS JOHNSON had the misfortune
to loſe her father when ſhe was but
eight years old. She had ſtill, however,
the bleſſing of an excellent mother, who was
very careful of her education, but of this
advantage ſhe was alſo foon deprived. Mrs.
Johnſon died the year after her huſband, and
Jeft her child under the guardianſhip of an
aupt. Mrs. Vincent, that was her name,
was a good-natured woman, but a great
enemy to trouble. Her fifter ſhe knew made
the tuition of her daughter a pleaſure; but
to herſelf, it would have been a fatigue.
She therefore determined to ſend her to a
publick ſchool.
Miſs Johnſon, who was
always accuſtomed to receive the tendereſt
proofs of affection from her parents, was
fhocked at the thoughts of going amongſt
entire ſtrangers. Her heart was opprefled
with grief for her tofs, and her aunt's in-
tention added to her affliction. She did not,
however, oppoſe the deſign, but was ſent
within a month after her mother's death,
to a boarding.ſchool, where the miſtreſs
had
Story of Miſs Johnſon. 57
1
had a good character, and a great many
ſcholars. The young lady who ſhared her
room, was of a very different diſpoſition;
ſhe liked nothing but play, and was of a
teazing temper. Miſs Johnſon had been uſed
to begin every day with a prayer to God,
and never truſted herſelf to ſleep without
begging divine protection. As ſoon as Miſs
Clark, her bed-fellow, was dreſſed, ſhe uſu-
ally ran into the other rooms to play. The
evening after Miſs Johnſon went to ſchool,
The retired to her chamber, fhut her door,
and locked it. - Miſs Clark came up, and
finding ſhe could not get into the room,
knocked and called very loud, When the
door was opened; what do you lock your-
ſelf up for? cried ſhe, you have no buſi.
neſs to turn us out of this room; it is as
much mine as yours. — I know it very well,
anſwered Miſs Johnſon, and I did not mean
to turn you out. I was employed for a
little while, and had a mind to be by my.
ſelf; that was all. --- And pray what migh-
ty buſineſs, ſaid Miſs Clark, did you want
to do by yourſelf? - What I am not afham-
ed of, replied Miſs Johnſon, though I wiſh.
ed to be alone. I was faying my prayers,
Well, and does not my governeſs read prayers
to
58
Story of Miſs Johnfor.
to us? Is not that enough? - I think not,
my dear, ſaid Miſs Johnſon; my papa and
mama uſed to read family prayers, but they
always ſaid a prayer by themſelves too, and
thought me to do ſo. Well! that is quite
needleſs, fays Miſs Clark, and you give up
play to fit here alone, ſtupifying! It is
too much for me! Why fure Mifs Clark,
anſwered Mifs Johnſon, if any one was to
give you and ſome other young ladies new
caps or gowns, you would not be ſatisfied
to join with them in returning your thanks;
but if you had an opportunity, you would
alſo offer them by yourſelf.
Do not we
owe every bleſſing we enjoy to God, and
ſhould we not be glad to pay all the return
we are able in thanks? I do not ſay a long
prayer but an earneſt one. This I learned
from my good mother. --- Miſs Clark could
make no anſwer, and therefore ſhe ſhut
the door very hard, and went to her play.--
Another time ſhe found Miſs Johnſon cry-
ing in her room, though ſhe endeavoured
to hide her tears. Bleſs my heart, Miſs!
ſaid ſhe, what do you work out of ſchool
hours? Who would think of working and
crying? But I fuppofe, my governeſs has
ſet you a talk?
talk? No indeed, my dear, ſays
Miſs
Story of Miſs Johnſon,
59
Miſs Jolinfon, I have no taſk-I am unea-
ſy to find, I do not work my Dreſden fo
well as I wiſh I did; and I am very deli-
rous of doing it to pleaſe my aunt, who
is to wear the ruffles! therefore I had a
mind to try by myſelf.--Well! I ſhould
never be uneaſy about work, ſays Miſs
Clark; aſk ſome of the young ladies to help
you, and then it will be the ſooner done -
I do not ſo much want to have it foon done
as well done, and I ſhould pever improve
myſelf, you know, if others were to work
for me.
Beſides, it would not be right to
take up much of the other young ladies time.
I do ſometimes aſk Miſs Freyer to ſhow
me a little, and my governeſs is always wil.
ling to inſtruct me, only I ain afraid of being
troublefome to her, as I am not ready at
learning. Miſs Clark told the other miſles
what had happened, and moſt of them laughi
ed with her at the new boarder's folly, as
they called it, agreeing the muſt be very
filly. Indeed her notions were quite dif
ferent from their's, and ſhe could not par-
ticularly help telling them, when they were
dreſling on a Sunday morning, and their
whole fouls employed about their outward
appearance, that ſhe thought it a pity they
did
60 Story of Miſs Fohnfort
.
did not take up a book ſometimes. To be
fure, ſays ſhe, one ought to be perfectly
neat on a Sunday, but ſo much care about
dreſs, prevents one from attending to what
is the duty of the day. To ſay the truth,
the governeſs contributed too much to this
vanity, for ſhe ſeemed particularly pleaſed
with thoſe who were beſt dreſſed; and if
any of her boarders were not fine, ſhe fre.
quently told them, they ſhould write to their
friends to ſend them better clothes. On
dancing days, Mifs Johnſon was more at-
tentive to her dreſs; for ſhe ſaid ber mama
had always regarded her appearance at ſuch
times more than any others, as the perſon
was then moſt ſeen, and required to be ſet
off to the beſt advantage; but ſtill, fays ſhe,
my dear mama always told me, it was the
carriage and behaviour that was of moſt
conſequence.
Young people are too apt to be influenc,
ed by the conduct of others, and to be
laughed out of their duty, but this was not
the caſe of Miſs Iohnſon. Mrs. Hammond,
the governeſs, told her boarders one day,
that they might walk ſometimes in her pri-
vate garden; but as ripe fruit was there,
ſhe muſt inſiſt upon their not meddling with
any
Story of Miſs Johnſon. 61
any, and then ſhe would give them theic
fh areif they helped themſelves, they
ſhould loſe their walk, and muſt not expect
from her any fruit. They promiſed they
would obſerve her directions, and the firſt
time they went in caft only a wiſtful eye.
The ſecond time, Mifs Johnſon, Mifs Clark;
and two others, were the laſt in the garden;
Miſs Clark whiſpered one of the young la:
dies ſeveral times; and tried all means to
fend Miſs Johnſon in; but tlie latter who was
fond of walking; did not take the bints.
At laſt Miſs Clark raid, she had been pro-
poſing to Miſs Nixon to pluck a few ſtraw:
berries, which were fo ripe, they would
be quite rotten if they were not gathered;
and they hoped Mifs Johnfon and Miſs Spil:
man would eat a few with them: Miſs
Johnfon was furpriſed. Whät, Mifs Clark!
faid ſhe, do you not remember that my go-
vernels deſired us to touch nothing, and that
you promiſed to obey her? I know the did
Hefire it, anfwered Miſs Clark, with feine
confuſion, but it was wrong in her to be
fo covetous, and we all eat int few:
you eat one, replied Mifs Johnſon, you breaki
your word: they belong to our gorerneſs,
and the has a right to diſpoſe of them as
VOL. IV:
1:
the
62 Story of Miſs Fohnfor.
don't eat any
ſhe pleaſes, and we are guilty of diſobedien-
ce and falſehood if we meddle with any.
You are ſo very wiſe, ſays Mifs Clark, well!
Mils Nixon and I will plea-
ſe ourſelves. They were ſtooping to gather
fome, when Miſs Jolinſon pulling them
back - I have only one thing to tell you,
ſays the, I ſhall be very ſorry if you deter.
mine to be ſo naughty; but you may depend
upon it, if you touch any, I ſhall certain.
ly acquaint my governeſs. The young la-
dies ſtarted with ſurpriſe; but Miſs Nixon
foon recovering herſelf, then you will be a
tell-tale, ſays ſhe, and we will always call
0! I am very eaſy about that,
anſwered Miſs Johnſon, I ſhould rejoice to
prevent your fault, and be very ſorry to
give a bad account of you. She who de
ſerves to be called a tell-tale, is one who
is pleaſed to ſpeak ill of others; but call
me what you like, I ſhall do what I think
right. Miſs Clark and Miſs Nixon, finding
they muſt not expect Miſs Johnſon would
conceal their fault, did not touch the ſtraw-
berries, but they were both angry with this
good young lady, and were ſo naughty, as
to will they could ſee her meddling with
fome. They watched her whenever ſhe
went
you fo.
Story of Miſs Johnson
63
went into the garden, and Miſs Nixon find:
ing her alone in an arbour the day after,
l'an to her, in hopes ſhe was got there to
hide fome fruit fhe had plucked. Mifs John-
fon turned herſelf away when the other
went in; ah! Mifs, ſays Mifs Nixon, have
I caught you? What you are eating fome
fruit by yourſelf, though you would not
let us have any = Miſs Johnſon turned her
face which was wet with tears. How
could you imagine ſuch a thing, Miſs, ſaid
the, I would not have touched one upon
any account.
What did you get by your-
felf for, then? To cry for niy loſs, ani:
ſvered fhe. If you, Miſs Nixon, had loſt a
good papa and mama as I have, you would
not wonder at my uneaſineſs. There never
was a better man than my father nor a bet:
ter woman than iny mother. My aunt is
very kind to me, and iny governefs takes
great care of me; but nothing can make me
amends for my dead parents. Whenever I
committed a fault, they told me of it in
ſuch a manner as to make me aſhamed:
when I did any thing right, they praiſed
me ſo kindly, that it made me with and
endeavour to be always good. I know that
they are happy, and I do not wiſh them
alive
E
67
Story of Miſs Johnſon.
alive again, but I cry for my own boſs.--
But you are rich, fays Miſs Nixon. - I am
ſure you have always as much money in
your pocket as any young lady in the ſchool;
and you have good clothes and handſome
caps, and you often go out. — I have reaſon
to thank God, ſays Miſs Johnſon, for a
great many bleſſings. As to finery, it gives
me very little ſatisfaction; from money, in-
deed, I receive pleaſure, becauſe I can give
to thoſe who want, and viſiting my friends
I delight in. But there is no friend like a
good parent. Miſs Nixon, though ſlie cried
upon every trilling diſappointment, was apt
to think her friends illnatured whenever they
contradicted her; and it was partly upon
account of hier diſobedience, that ſhe was
fent out to ſchool. She could not there-
fore have any idea of Miſs Johnſon's unea-
fineſs, nor did ſhe feel any pity for her.
Mrs. Hammond was too attentive to tho.
fe of her boarders, from whore friends the
received moſt preſents, and whoſe dreſs was
moſt brilliant; but there was ſuch ſweetneſs
and readineſs of obedience in all Miſs John-
fon's behaviour, that the found herſelf un-
uſually attached to her. On calling up her
young ladies one morning to ſpell, ſhe
found,
Story of Miſs Johnſon. 65
found, that the leaf which contained the
appointed leſions was rent out.
She enquir-
ed who had committed this fault; every
one denied it; a Miſs Willes faid, at laſt,
ſhe knew it was Miſs Johnſon Mrs. Ham.
mond ſhook her head, and obſerving Miſs
Willes's confuſion — Mifs Johnſon is abſent,
faid ſhe, and cannot defend herſelf, but I
own I do not fufpe&t her. In the firſt pla-
ce, a child who can fpell ſo well as she
does, could have no temptation to rend out
her leſion. Then ſhe has too much fenſe,
not to know, that rending the common
ſpelling book would not prevent her being
aſked her leffon, when there are others like
it in the houſe, Or perhaps whoever did
it, thought we ſhould not miſs the leaf;
but this I do not believe of Miſs Johnſon.
If ſhe had done it by accident, which does
not feem likely, ſhe would have told me
of it. You muſt all remember, my dears,
when ſhe broke the china cup, ſhe not only
immediately confefled it, and aſked my par-
don, but was not eaſy till ſhe had bought
another; however, I ſhall enquire into this
affair. Every look of Mifs Willes's betray-
ed her fault, and ſhe ſaid, ſhe thought it
was better not to ſay any thing to Mifs John-
E 3
fon,
66 Story of Mifs Johnfort
.
fon, for ſhe was ſure the would not do fo
again. Mirs, Hammond looked diſpleafed,
but ſhe was ſilent. When Miſs Johnſon re,
turned, her governeſs fent for her, and aſked
her, whether ſhe had committed the fault
of which ſhe was accuſed? Mifs Johnfon
changed colour, but it was the bluſh of con-
fcious innocence, wounded by fufpicion,
She begged to know who had accuſed her,
and Mrs. Hammond fent for Miſs Willes, Mils
Johnſon intreated her governeſs would permit
her to ſpeak to her accufer, and as ſoon as
fle came in; you are very much miſtaken,
my dear, ſaid ſhe, in thinking I rent the book;
and you ſhould take care how you lay a
fault upon any body, which you did not
fee them commit, You cannot ſay, you
faw me tear out the leaf. Mifs Willes her
fitated - No! fhe could not fay ſhe faw her
rend it, but ſhe knew, fomebody, told her
it was Mifs Johnſon. What fomebody, Mifs ?
anfwered that amiable girl. She could not
recollect. --Go, you are a wicked child,
ſays Mrs. Hammond: you tell this untruth
to hide your fault.
You rept the book,
becauſe you chofe to be ignorant, rather
than endeavour to learn. I am aſhamed af
you; go out of my fight; and I ſhall con-
fider
Story of Mifu Jobifon.
67
fider how to puniſh you.
Miſs Johnſon's
tender nature was afiected. Do, dear Ma.
damn, faid fhe, let me talk with Miſs Wil-
les. I hope ſhe is forry for what the las
faid; and will promiſe to behave well for
the future. She then took Mifs Willes's
hand, and drew her into the garden. The
naughty girl followed unwillingly, rudely
puſhing away Miſs Johnſon's hand; let me
alone, fuid flie, I am to be puniſhed upon
your account.
Upon my account? ſays
Mifs Johnſon, amazed! Is it not becauſe
you lay your faults upon the innocent?
Come, my dear, own the truth, and you
ſhall be forgiven, I will anſwer for it. Did
you not rend the book ? The other ſtood
in :) fullen Glence. Do not be aſhamed of
owning you have been in a fault, conti-
nued Miſs Johnſon, it is the way to make
amends for it. -- To own, and to be forry
that we have done wrong, is to Mhow we
are diſpoſed to do better. Here is my hand
again, which you tofled from you: let us
be friends. Indeed I am not angry with
you, and you ſhall not fuffer, as I know
you intend to be good. She then threw
her arms about Miſs Willes's neck, for ſhe
faw her foftened, and felt for her. The poor
E +
girl
68 Story of Miſi Johnſon.
girl was now quite conquered by Miſs John.
fon's goodneſs. She wept—ſhe fobbed
ſhe hid her face -- ſhe attempted to ſpeak,
but her tears prevented her. - My dear, favs
Miſs Johuſon, I knew you would be good,
Come, let us go to my governeſs. Miſs
Willes killed her young friend moſt affec-
tionately. Do you think, fays ſhe, my go-
verneſs will forgive me? I am afraid to go.
to her. I will go and bring your pardon,
anſwered Mifs Johnſon. She flew into the
parlour - Dear madam, ſaid ſhe, I am ſo
delighted - Miſs Willes is quite ſorry for
her fault; ſhe was afraid you would not
forgive her, but you will, I know you
will - Pray tell her you do.-- Mrs. Ham-
mond gave leave, and Miſs Willes was led
in by Miſs Johnſon. She received a proper
lecture for her fault, and was taken into,
favour for her penitence. She ever rea
tained the utmoſt affection for Miſs Johnſon,
whoſe behaviour endeared her not only to
her governeſs, but to the whole ſchool, to,
whom ſhe became an example.
Her obliging manners, her unwearied at
tention to the happineſs of others, excited
in her aunt an attachment ſhe had never
felt before. Perhaps her natural indolence
forefaw
Story of Mifs Johnſon.
69
forefaw its own gratiſication in ſuch a com:
panion. Whatever was her motive, ſhe
took Miſs Johnſon to her own houſe, after
ſhe had been about a year and a half at
fchool. The concern flown by the gover-
neſs and young ladies was an evident propf
of Miſs Johnſon's goodneſs, and their affec-
tion. Miſs Willes in particular hung round
her neck at parting. O! my dear friend,
faid ſhe, when you are gone I ſhall grow
naughty again, as I was before you
came, and for ſome time after you were
here. No, my love, anſwered Miſs John
fon, you have felt the ſatisfaction of doing
your duty, and the pain of transgreſſing it;
and therefore I am ſure, as you wiſh to be
happy, you will always endeavour to be
good. The ſame diſpoſition gained to this
amiable girl a friend in every acquaintance.
When attended by fervants, ſurrounded with
flatterers, ſparkling in dreſs, and invited to
partake of every pleaſure, ſtill meek and
lowly in heart, ſhe preſerved her humility.
Amidſt the ſcenes of extravagance and diffi-
pation, ſhe practiſed the charity of a chri.
ftian. She was at length ſo happy as to
captivate a lover, who was leſs charmed
with her perſon, than enſlaved by her mind
Their
E 3
70
Story of the Golden Heart.
Their fortunes were eaſy, their manners fi.
milar, their goodneſs equally the reſult of
principle. What could preclude happineſs
in an union of hearts and ſympathy of fouls?
They married: they enjoyed life; they air-
ticipated heaven,
STORY of the GOLDEN HEAD.
IT is generally known, that Tom Two
Shoes went to ſea when he was a very
little boy, and very poor; and that he re-
turned a very great man, and very rich;
but no one knows how he acquired fo much
wealth but himſelf, and a few friends.
After Tom had been at ſea ſome years,
he was unfortunately caſt away, on that
part of the coaſt of Africa inhabited by the
Hottentots. Here he met with a ſtrange
book, which the Hottentots did not under-
ſtand, and which gave him fome account
of Prefter Jolin's country; and being a lad
of great curioſity and reſolution, he deter-
mined to fee it; accordingly he ſet out on
the purſuit, attended by a young lion, which
he had tamed, and made fo fond of him,
that he followed him like a dog, and
obey.
Story of the Golden Head,
7
obeyed all his commands; and indeed it wag
happy for hiin that he liad fuch a compani.
on ; for as his road lay through large woods
and foreſts, that were full of wild beafts,
and without inhabitants, he muſt have been
foon ftarved or torn in pieces, had he not
been both fed and protected by this noble
aniinal.
Tom had provided bimfelf with two guns,
a ſword, and as much powder and ball as he
could carry; with theſe arms, and fuch a
companion, it was mighty eaſy for him to
get food; for the animals in there wild and
extenſive forefts, having never feen the ef
fects of a gan, readily ran from the lion
who hunted on one ſide, to Tom, who
hunted on the other, ſo that they were ei.
ther caught by the lion, or ſhot by his
maſter; and it was pleafant enough, after
a hunting match, and the meat was dreffed,
to ſee how cheek by jowl they fat down
to dinner.
When they came to the land of Utopia,
he diſcovered the ſtatue of a man erected
on an open plain, which had this infcrip.
tion on the pedeftal: “On May-day in the
morning, when the ſun riſes, I ſhall have
a Head of Golde": As it was now the latter
end
72 Story of the Golden Head.
end of April, he ſtayed to ſee this won.
derful change; and in the mean time, enquira
ing of a poor ſhepherd what was the rea-
ſon of the ſtatue being erected there, and
with that inſcription, he was informed, that
it was ſet up many years ago by an Arabian
philoſopher, who travelled all the world
over in ſearch of a real friend ; that be liv.
ed with, and was extremely fond of a great
man wbo inhabited the next mountain; but
that on ſome occaſion they quarrelled, and
the philoſopher, leaving the mountain, re.
tired into the plain, where he erected this
ftatue with his own hands, and ſoon after
died. To this he added, that all the peo-
ple for many leagues round came there eve-
ry May morning, expecting to ſee the ſtone
head turned to gold,
Tom got up very early on the firſt of
May to behold this amazing change, and
when he came near the ſtatue he ſaw a num.
ber of people, who all ran away from him
in the utmoſt conſternation, having never
before ſeen a lion follow a man like a lap-
dog. Being thus left alone, he fixed his
eyes on the ſun, then rifing with reſplen-
dent majeſty, and afterwards turned to the
ftatue, but could ſee no change in the
ſtone.
Story of the Golden Head.
73
fone. -"Surely, ſays be to himſelf, there
is fome myſtical meaning in this! This in-
fcription muſt be an Aenigma, the hidden
meaning of which I will endeavour to find;
for a philoſopher would never expect a ſtone
to be turned to gold; accordingly he mea-
ſured the length of the ſhadow, which the
ftatue gave on the ground by the fun fhin.
ing on it, and marked that particular part
where the head fell, then getting a chop-
neſs, a thing like a ſpade, and digging,
he diſcovered a copper cheſt, full of gold,
with this inſcription engraved on the lid of
it: “Thy ipit, oh map! whoever thou art,
hath diſcloſed the aenigma, and diſcovered
the Golden Head. Take it and uſe it; but
uſe it with wiſdom; for know, that Gold,
properly employed, may diſpenſe bleſſings,
and promote the happineſs of mortals; but
when hoarded up, or miſapplied, is but traſh,
that makes mankind miſerable. Rememberi
the unprofitable fervant, who bid his talent
in a napkin; and the profligate ſon, who
ſquandered away his ſubſtance, and fed with
the ſwine. As thou haſt got the Golderi
Head, obſerve the Golden Mean, be good;
and be happy."
This
74
Story of the Golden Head.
This leffon, coming as it were from the
dead, firuck him with ſuch awe and reve-
rence for piety and virtue, that before he
removed the treaſure, he kneeled down,
and earneſtly and fervently prayed that he
might make a prudent, juſt, and proper uſe
of it. He then conveyed the cheſt away
but how he got it to England, is not known.
It may not be improper, however, in this
place, to give the reader fone account of
the philoſopher who hid this treaſure, and
took ſo much pains to find a true and real
friend to enjoy it. As Tom had reaſon to
venerate his memory, he was very particu-
lar in his enquiry, and had this character
of him: That he was a man well acquaint-
ed with nature and with trade; that he was
pious, friendly, and of a ſweet and affable
difpofition. That he had acquired a fortu :
ne by coinmerce, and having no relation to
leave it to, he travelled through Arabia,
Perſia, India, Lybia, and Utopia, in ſearch
of a real friend. In this purſuit he found
ſeveral, with whom he exchanged good of:
fices, and who were polite and obliging, but
they often flew off for trifles, or as foon as he
pretended to be in diſtreſs, and requested
their alliſtance, and left himn to ſtruggle with
his
Story of the Golden Head.
175
his own difficulties.
So true is that copy
in our books, which ſays, "Adverſity is
the touchſtone of friendſhip." At laſt, howa
ever, he met with the Utopian Philoſopher,
or the Wiſe Man of the Mountain, as he
is called, and thought in him he had ſound
the friend he wanted; for though he often
pretended to be in diſtreſs, and abandoned
to the frowas of fortune, this man always
relieved him, and with ſuch chearfulneſs
and ſincerity, that concluding he had found
out the only man to whom he ought to open
both his purſe and his heart, he let him ſo
far into his fecrets, as to defire his affiftan:
ce in hiding a large fum of money, which
he wanted to conceal, left the prince of
the country, who was abſolute, ſhould, by
the advice of his wicked miniſter, put him
to death for his gold. The two philofos
phers met and hid the money, which the
ſtranger, after ſome days, went to ſee, but
found it gone.
How was he ſtruck to the
heart, when he found that his friend, whom
he had often tried, and who had relieved
hini in his diſtreſs, could not withſtand this
temptation, but broke through the ſacred
bonds of friendſhip, and turned even a thief
for gold which he did not want, as he was
als
76 Story of the Golden Head.
ܪ
already very rich. *Oh! faid be, what is
the heart of man made of? Why am I cona
demned to live among people who have no
ſincerity, and barter the moſt facred ties of
friendlhip and humanity for the dirt that we
tread on? Had I loſt my gold, and found
a real friend, I ſhould have been happy with
the exchange, but now I am moſt miferable:
After ſome time he wiped off his tears, and
being determined not to be fo impoſed on,
he had recourſe to cunning, and the arts of
life. He went to his pretended friend with
a chearful countenance, told him he had
more gold to hide, and deſired him to appoint
a time when they might go together, and
opon the earth to put it into the fame pot;
the other, in hopes of getting inore wealth;
appointed the next evening. They went
together, opened the ground, and found
the money they had firſt placed there, for
the artful wretch he fo much confided in, had
conveyed it again into the pot, in order to
obtain inore. Our philofopher immediately
took the gold, and putting it into his pocket,
told the other he had now altered bis mind,
and ſhould bury it no more, till he found a
man more worthy of his confidence: See
what people life by being diſhoneſt.
Remem-
Story of the Golden Head.
77
Remember this ſtory, and take care whom
you truſt; but do not be covetous, fordid
and miſerable; for the gold we have is but
lent us to do good with. We received all
from the band of God, and every perſon in
diſtreſs hath a juſt title to a portion of it.
The CONSEQUENCES of GOOD and
DUTIFUL BEHAVIOUR.
MRS.
RS. Greſham had only one daughter,
almoſt ſeven years old, whom ſhe en-
deavoured to teach whatever it was proper
for a young lady to learn; but with very
little fuccefs, for Miſs was idle, obſtinate,
and diſobedient. She always liked play
when ſhe was aſked to read her book, and
when ſhe had leave to play, faid, ſhe could
not find any thing to amuſe her. One morn-
ing Mrs. Grelham called her to read a fable;
miſs went to her mama, but in ſuch a man.
ner, as ſhowed ſhe was not pleaſed with
the employment.
Inſtead of keeping her
attention fixed upon the book, her thoughts
were rambling upon every thing about her.
Look, Mama, there's the cat upon the
VOL. IV.
F
wall,
78 Conſequences of good
wall, -O dear! there rides a man in the
road; -- with ſeveral other ſuch interrup-
tions. Mrs. Greſham, quite fatigued at
laſt with her naughty girl's idleneſs, bade
her ſhut up the book. Anne, ſaid ſhe,
you ſhall not read any more whilſt you
are ſo ipattentive; if you have no deſire to
learn, you muſt be a dunce. Go, and ſtand
in the corner. Miſs Grelham then cried,
ſtamped, and ſaid, the would do better;
but after another tryal, her mama finding
no amendment, took away the book,
without ſaying another word, and led Miſs
Greſham into the corner. She again cried,
then fhrieked, and begged to read; but her
mama faid, No, Anne, you ſhall not read,
you are not good enough. Whilft fhe was
crying in the corner, a ſervant came in with
a meſſage from Mrs. Offley, to defire Miſs
Greſham's company to meet the Miſs Townſ-
ends. Miſs Greſham liſtened for her ma.
ma's anſwer, and was ſurpriſed to hear her
fay, my compliments to Mrs. Offley, and
Apne ſhall wait on her. Mrs. Gretham im-
mediately added, obſerve what I ſay to you,
Anne, you certainly will not go to Mrs.
Offley's becauſe you are good, but that you
may be aſhamed of having been ſo naughty,
and
and dutiful Behaviour. 79
and learn to grow better. When you com-
pare yourſelf with the Miſs Townſends, you
will bluſh for your faults. Miſs Greſham
ſaid, ſhe did not deſire to go, ſhe had ra-
ther ſtay at home. I believe you, anſwer-
ed her mother, but I chooſe you ſhould go,
and that is ſufficient. The Miſs Townſends,
on being told by their mama that two of
them ſhould go to Mrs. Offley's that after-
noon, rejoiced that they were good enough
to pay a viſit, and hoped they ſhould be-
have to the fatisfaction of their friends.
They read, worked, and amuſed themſel-
ves as uſual till the time of their going, and
when they ſaw the man lead the horſes to
the chariot, put themſelves in readineſs to
go.
They then came, and with curtſeys
took their leave, and aſked their mama if
fhe had any commands. She defired them
to give her compliments, adding, I need not
aſk you my dears to behave well, I depend
npon you; the houſe-keeper attended them
in the chariot, and ſet them down at Mrs.
Offley's gate, promiſing to call for them at
feven. They walked into the houſe, whe-
re the ſervant introduced them to Mrs. Of.
fley, to whom they paid their compliments
in the prettieſt manner imaginable. Miſs
Harriet,
F2
80 Conſequences of good
Harriet, who was the elder, and about fix
years of age, then helped her fifter to pull
off her things, which they laid down with
great care. On Mifs Offley's coming into
the room, they paid their reſpects to ber in
the fame manner. Soon after the door again
opened, and Miſs Greſham appeared, her
maid with ber. She ſtood ſtill, with her
head down, till the maid whiſpered, that
ſhe ſhould go and ſpeak to Mrs. Offley.
She then crept in, dragging upon her maid's
apron, and ſaid not a word when Mrs. Of.
fley ſpoke to her, till the maid told her
what to anſwer to the common queſtions.
“How do you do Miſs; and I hope your
mama is well?” Then ſhe repeated, in a
low voice, what ſhe had been taught to ſay.
Her maid pulled off her hat and cloak, and
left her, after defiring her to hold up her
head and be good, of which ſhe wanted to
be reminded. Miſs Townſend and Miſs Char-
lotte obſerved Miſs Greſham with concer,
and wiſhed to ſee her behave better. Af.
ter they had been ſitting fome time, Well,
young ladies, ſays Mrs. Offley, I do not
know how you will amuſe yourſelves; I
am an old woman, and have no play things
to entertain you. O! dear madam, ſaid Miſs
Townſend,
and dutiful Behaviour.
SI
Townſend, we are very happy in ſitting
here with you and the other ladies. No,
my dear, replied ſhe, I will not confine
you to this room all the afternoon; you Ihall
go op into my chamber, which is very
pleaſant, and ſee the pictures in the other
parlour; after tea, you ſhall take a walk
into the garden. As you pleaſe, Madam,
was their anſwer - Come, my loves, ad.
ded Miſs Ofley, we will go now into the
other parlour. Miſs Greſham immediately
ſtarted from her chair, and was ruſhing out
of the room, when ſhe was ſtopped by Miſs
Offley, who defired her to obſerve how the
Miſs Townſends retired : The made an auk-
ward courtſey, not ſhowing a deſire of
imitating the young ladies graceful manner,
and then ran out jumping, and ſetting up
her ſhoulders. Mifs Townſend and Miſs
Charlotte walked upright and properly with
Miſs Ofey; they obſerved the pictures,
found out the likenefles, and ſeemed much
pleaſed with them. Miſs Greſham paid no
attention to any thing; and when they went
up to Mrs. Offley's chamber , ftrided up two
or three ſtairs at a time, or crept on her
bands and knees, Miſs Townfend admired
the pleaſantneſs of the room, obſerved it
F3
vaa
82 Conſequences of good
was very light to read or work in; and how
very entertaining is it, ſaid ſhe, to ſee the
number of people paſſing about. Miſs Char-
lotte then opening a large Bible which lay
upon the table, and finding a print of Jo-
ſeph and his brethren in Egypt; 0! fifter,
ſhe cried, do but ſee how overjoyed this
good Jofeph looks! I am ſure he loves all
his brothers though they had been ſo cruel;
and how he hugs Benjamin! Then do but
ſee how aſhamed the naughty brothers look.
Ah! you may well hang down your heads;
and yet as Joſeph forgave them, I ſhould
not be angry with them; they were forry,
I believe, for their fault; and they could
do no more than aſk pardon and reſolve to
amend. Miſs Townſend kiſſed her ſiſter for
her remark, and looking at the print of Job
fitting upon the dung hill; poor man, ſays
fhe, how much he fuffered, but he was
good, and God Almighty let him be tried
with afflictions, that he might ſhow he
could “ do his duty in every ſtate of life in
which it pleaſed Providence to place him."
She then looked at the fine picture of our
Saviour on the crofs that hung up in the
What pain, Miſs Offley it muſt be,
ſaid the, to have nails run through one's
hands
room.
and dutiful Behaviour.
83
hands and feet, and to hang upon a crofs !
Well, I am ſure we ought to be good,
when we think what our Saviour endured
for us.
All this time Mifs Greſham was
romping about, jumping up the chairs; and
at laſt, in playing with the ſtring that drew
up the window curtain, ſhe broke it. Miſs
Offley blamed her for meddling with any
thing ſo roughly; they then went to tea.
The Miſs Townſends were very careful to
prevent ſpilling, either on their clothes, or
about the room.
They eat and drank in a
graceful manner, not impatiently nor gree-
dily. Miſs Greſham wiped her fingers on
her frock, and ſpilled her tea ſeveral times.
She eagerly turned over the toaſt to ſearch
for the largeſt pieces, and helped herſelf fo
often, that Mrs. Offley at laſt ſaid, My dear
Miſs Greſham, I would have you eat as
much as is proper for you, I am ſure; but
I think your mama would not be pleaſed
with your manner of helping yourſelf, nor
with your taking fo large a quantity. You
muſt excuſe me if I ſay, I think you have
had enough.
She then aſked Mifs Town
end and her fifter, who had eaten much
leſs, if they did not chooſe another cake, or
a piece more toaſt; to which Miſs Townf-
F4
end
84
Conſequences of good
end anſwered, indeed, Madam, we do not
chooſe to eat any more, but if you will give
me leave, I will put this ſmall cake in my
pocket for my brother Edward. I do not
give you leave to take that, Miſs, ſays
Mrs. Offley, I beg you would eat it, and I
will give you another for Maſter Townſend;
that may be your preſent then, madam, ſays
Miſs Townſend, but, if you pleaſe, this
ſhall be mine to him, as I ſaved it from
what I took for myſelf. Well then, it ſhall
be fo, my dear. When the tea equipage
was taken away, the young ladies went
with Miſs Oflley into the garden. Miſs
Greſham was out of fight in a moment,
whilft Miſs Townſend and her fifter walked
with Miſs Offley talking about the flowers,
&c. - Miſs Offley aſked them if they did
not chooſe to take a flower? To which Miſs
Harriot anſwered, ſhe thought it a pity to
pull any, they looked fo pretty in the gar.
den, and they fo foon faded after they were
plucked; but on ſeeing a very large quan-
tity of roſes, and being again aſked, they
begged Miſs Offley would be ſo kind as to
cut one for each of them. Preſently, Miſs
Greſham came running with her hands filled
with fine ranunculas, anemonies, &c. which
she
and dutiful Behaviour.
85
The had pulled up by the roots. Bleſs me!
ſays Miſs Offley, what have you done miſs ?
my mother values thoſe flowers exceedingly;
you ſhould never meddle with any thing
belonging to another without being aſked.
Miſs Greſham coloured a little, and walked
tolerably well for ſome time after; at laſt
ſhe went from them again. Soon after they
came to ſome ſtrawberry beds, and Miſs
Offley aſked the young ladies to help them-
ſelves. They both thanked her, but ſaid,
they did not chooſe any.-What do you
not love ſtrawberries? Oh yes, Madam,
very much. - Well, my dears, why do
you refufe them then? You know, madam,
whe have had a good deal of rain this morn-
ing, and we are quite clean, therefore my
mama would not be pleaſed if we were to
daub ourſelves. I admire your reaſon, my
dear; I did not conſider before I ſpoke,
the feryant ſhall gather fome for you; but
you may eat a few gooſeberries and currants
in the mean time. They eat a very mode-
rate quantity, and were thinking of leaving
the garden when Miſs Greſham came to
them. What have you done to your frock,
child ? ſays Miſs Offley, and your filk pet-
ticoat is quite wet and dirty; you have
been
F 5
86
Conſequences of good
been on your knees, Mifs, at the ſtrawber-
ry bed, I ſuppoſe — She owned it was fo.
And were you not deſired to meddle with
nothing unleſs you were aſked ? Well, I
fhall treat theſe young ladies with ſome
ftrawberries. - They, I am fure, would not
have touched one upaſked-They even re-
fuſed them when offered, becauſe they were
fearful of daubing themſelves in gathering
them. You have helped yourſelf, and the-
refore muſt expect no more. In going in,
Miſs Offley could not help telling her mo-
ther the different manner in which her gueſts
had behaved, which drew from her the high-
eſt encomiums upon the Miſs Townſends,
and a reprimand on Miſs Greſham. Mrs.
Offley then taking up a book, aſked if the
young ladies would give her the pleaſure
of hearing them read? Miſs Greſham, ſaid
ſhe, you, as the eldeſt, ſhall begin. That
young lady bluſhed, and knew ſhe had paid
ſo little attention to her reading and ſpel-
ling, that ſhe could not do either properly.
She took the book
ſhe read one word,
Spelt another, then heſitated. - Mrs. Offley
read the firſt fentence; Miſs Greſham began
again, but read fo indifferently, that Mrs.
Owley could not help ſaying, ſhe was ſorry
Miſs
and dutiful Behaviour.
87
Miſs Greſham ſo ill repaid her mama's endea.
vours to teach her. Miſs Townſend and her
fiſter were ſhocked; they looked at each
other with concern; tears came into their
eyes on obſerving Miſs Greſham's confuſion.
Well, my dear, will you oblige me? fay's
Mrs. Offley to Miſs Townſend; ſhe read ad.
mirably.-- Will you, my ſweet Mifs Char-
lotte, take the book? She did fo, and charm-
ed the ladies. They read with the utmoſt
attention to their ſtops, placed the proper
emphaſis on every word, and ſhowed that
they underſtood the ſenſe of the ſtory. Mrs.
Offley then aſked them to ſpell a few words,
and was very much pleaſed with their rea-
dineſs and knowledge. Miſs Greſham was
fo imperfect, that Mrs. Offley would not
add to her confuſion by aſking her many
queſtions; the only adviſed her to be more
attentive for the future to her mother's in-
ſtructions. When the ſtrawberries were
brought in, they were diſtributed between
the Miſs Townſends, who begged they might
be permitted to give Miſs Greſham a few-I
am ſure Miſs Greſham will never help her.
ſelf any more, ſays Miſs Charlotte, I know
ſhe will be good; Mrs. Ofey conſented, and
Miſs Greſham was ſo affected by their good
neſs
88 Virtue and Induſtry rewarded.
peſs, that the cried heartily, and ſaid, ſhe
would never be naughty again. She took
her leaye in a tolerabie manner, and gave
her mama an exact account of what had hap.
pened, promiſing ſhe would endeavour to be
as good as Miſs Townſend and Miſs Charlot-
te. Thoſe amiable girls took a moſt genteel
leave of Mrs. and Miſs Offley. The former
faid to them: My ſweet young ladies, wher-
ever you viſit, you confer a favour: who.
ever you leave, they part from you with re-
gret; you not only do honour to your pa.
rents by your prefent behaviour, but you
promiſe to repay them for all their care and
attention by your future improvement.
VIRTUE and INDUSTRY REWARDED.
MR. Lovewell was born at Bath, and ap-
prenticed to a laborious trade in Lon.
don, which being too hard for him, he part-
ed with his maſter by conſent, and hired
bimſelf as a common ſervant to a merchant
in the city. Here he ſpent his leiſure hours,
dot as ſervants too frequently do, in drink-
og and ſchemes of pleaſure, but in improve
ing
Virtue and Induſtry rewarded. 89
ing bis mind; and among other acquirements
he made himſelf a complete maſter of ac.
compts. His fobriety, honeſty, and the re-
gard he paid to his maſter's intereſt, great-
ly recommended him in the whole family,
and he had ſeveral offices of truſt commit.
ted to his charge, in which he acquitted
himſelf ſo well, that the merchant remov.
ed him from the ſtable into the counting.
houſe.
Here he ſoon made himſelf maſter of the
buſineſs, and became ſo uſeful to the mer.
chant, that in regard to his faithful fervi.
ces, and the affection he had for him, he
married him to his own niece, a prudent
agreeable young lady; and gave him a ſhare
in the buſineſs, See what honeſty and in-
duſtry will do for us.
Half the great men
in London, I am told, have made themſel.
ves by theſe means; and who would but be
honeſt and induſtrious, when it is ſo much
our intereſt and our duty ?
After ſome years the merchant died, and
left Mr. Lovewell poſſeſſed of many fine fhips
at ſea, and much money, and he was hap-
py in a wife, who had brought him a fon
and two daughters, all dutiful and obedient.
The treaſures and good things, however,
of
90
Virtue and Induſtry rewarded.
us, that:
of this life are ſo uncertain, that a man can
never be happy, unleſs he lays the founda.
tion for it in his own mind. So true is
that copy in our writing books, which tells
" A contented mind is a continual
feaft."
After ſome years ſucceſsful trade; he
thought his circumſtances ſufficient to infu.
re his own fhips, or, in other words, to
fend his ſhips and goods to ſea without being
inſured by others, as is cuſtomary among
merchants: when, unfortunately for him,
four of them richly laden were loſt at fea.
This he fupported with becoming reſolution;
but the next mail brought him advice, that
nine others were taken by the French, with
whom we were then at war; and this, to-
gether with the failure of three foreign mer-
chants whom he had truſted, completed his
ruin. He was then obliged to call his cre.
ditors together, who took his effects, and
being angry with him for the imprudent ſtep
of not inſuring his fhips, left him deſtitute
of all ſubfiftence. Nor did the flatterers of
his fortune, thoſe who had lived by his
bounty when in his proſperity, pay the leaſt
regard either to him or his family. So true
is another copy, that you will find in your
writing
Virtue and Induſtry rewarded. 91
writing book, which ſays: "Misfortune
tries our friends." All thoſe flights of his
pretended friends, and the ill uſage of his
creditors, both he and his family bore with
Chriſtian fortitude: but other calamities fell
upon him, which he felt more ſenſibly.
In this diſtreſs, one of his relations, who
lived at Florence, offered to take his fon,
and another, who lived at Barbadoes, fent
for one of his daughters. The ſhip which
bis ſon failed in was caſt away, and all the
crew fuppofed to be loſt; and the fhip, in
which his daughter went a paſſenger, was
taken by pirates, and one poſt brought the
miſerable father an account of the loſs of his
two children. This was the ſevereſt ſtroke
of all, it made him completely wretched,
and he knew it muſt have a dreadful effect on
his wife and daughter; he therefore endea-
voured to conceal it from them. But the
perpetual anxiety he was in, together with
the loſs of his appetite and want of reſt,
foon alarmed his wife. She found ſome-
thing was labouring in his breaſt, which was
concealed from her; and one night being
diſturbed in a dream, with what was ever
in his thoughts, and calling out upon his
dear children, the awoke him, and inſiſted
upon
92 Virtue and Induſry rewarded.
upon knowing the cauſe of his inquietude.
“Nothing, my dear, nothing, ſays he, The
Lord
gave, and the Lord bath taken away,
bleſſed be the nanie of the Lord.”
This was
ſufficient to alarm the poor woman; ſhe lay
till his fpirits were compoſed, and as the
thought, aſleep, then ſtealing out of bed,
got the keys and opeped his bureau, were
the found the fatal account. In the height
of her diſtractions, the flew to her daugh-
ter's room, and waking her with her ſhrieks,
put the letters into her hands. The young
lady, unable to ſupport the load of miſery,
fell into a fit from which it was thought
ſhe never could have been recovered. How.
ever, at laſt the revived; but the ſhock
was ſo great, that it entirely deprived her
of her ſpeech.
Thus loaded with miſery, and unable to
bear the flights and diſdains of thoſe who
had formerly profeſſed themſelves friends,
this unhappy family retired into a country,
where they were unknown, in order to hide
themſelves from the world, when, to fup-
port their independency, the father labour-
ed as well as he could at huſbandry, and
the mother and daughter ſometimes got ſpin-
ning and knitting work, to help to furniſh
the
Virtue and Induſtry rewarded. 93
the means of fubfiftence, which however
was to precarious and uncertain, that they
often, for many weeks together, lived on
nothing but cabbage and bread boiled in
water But God never forſaketh the right-
eous, nor ſuffereth thofe to periſh who put
their truſt in him. At this time a lady,
who was juſt come to England, ſent to take
a pleaſant feat ready furnished in that neigh-
bourhood, and the perſon who was em-
ployed for the purpoſe, was ordered to deli
ver a bank pote of an hundred pounds to
Mr. Lovewell, another hundred to his wife,
and fifty to the daughter, defiring them to
take poffeffion of the houſe,' and get it well
aired againſt ſhe came down, which would
be in two or three days at moſt. This, to
people who were almoſt ſtarving, was a
fiveet and ſeaſonable relief, and they were
all folicitous to know their benefaétreſs, but
of that the meſſenger himſelf was too igno.
fant to inform them. However, ſhe came
down fooner than was expected, and with
tears embraced them again and again: after
which ſhe told the father and mother the
had heard from their daughter, who was
her acquaintance, and that ſhe was well,
and on her return to England. This was
VOL. IV.
G
the
1
94 Virtue and Induſtry rewarded.
the agreeable ſubject of their converſation,
till after dinner, when drinking their healths,
ſhe again with tears faluted them, and fal-
ling upon her knees, aſked their bleſſings.
It is impoflible to expreſs the mutual joy
which this occafioned. Their converſation
was made up of the moft endearing expref-
fions, intermingled with tears and carefles.
Their torrent of joy, however, was for a
moment interrupted, by a chariot which ſtop.
ped at the gate, and which brought as they
thought a very unſeaſonable viſitor, and the.
refore they ſent to be excuſed from ſeeing
company
But this had no effet, for a gentleman
richly drefled jumped out of the chariot,
and purſuing the ſervant into the parlour,
faluted them round, who were all aſtoniſh-
ed at his behaviour. But when the tears
trickled from his cheeks, the daughter, who
had been fome years dumb, immediately
cried out, “My brother! my brother! my
brother!” and from that inſtant recovered
her ſpeech. The mutual joy which this
occafioned, is better felt than expreſſed.
Thoſe who have proper ſentiments of huma-
nity, gratitude, and filial piety, will rejoi-
ce at the event; and thoſe who have a
proper
Virtue and Induſtry rewarded. 98
proper idea of the goodneſs of God, and
his gracious providence, will from this, as
well as other inſtances of his goodneſs and
mercy, glorify his holy name, and magni-
fy his wiſdom and power, who is a ſhield
to the righteous, and defendeth all thoſe
who put their truſt in him.
As you, my dear children, may be foli:
citous to know how this happy event was
brought about, I muſt inforin you, that Mr.
Lovewell's fon, when the ſhip foundered,
had, with ſome others got into the long-
boat; and was taken up by a ſhip at ſea,
and carried to the Eaſt Indies, where in a
little time he made a large fortune; and the
pirates who took his daughter, attempted to
rob her of her chaſtity; but finding her in
flexible, and determined to die rather than
to ſubmit, fome of them behaved to her in
a very cruel manner; but others, who had
more honour and generoſity, became her de-
fenders, upon which a quarrel aroſe between
them, and the captain, who was the worſt
of the gang, being killed, the reſt of the
crew carried the ſhip into a port of the
Manilla iſlands, belonging to the Spaniards ;
where, when her ſtory was known, ſhe was
treated with great reſpect, and courted by a
G.
young
96 Virtue and Induſtry rewarded.
young gentleman, who was taken ill of á
fever, and died before the marriage was
agreed on, but left her his whole fortune.
You fee, my dear children, how won.
derfully theſe people were preſerved, and
made happy' after ſuch extreme diſtreſs; we
are therefore never to deſpair, even under
the greateſt misfortunes, for God Almighty
is all.powerful, and can deliver us at any
time.
AD-
97
A D D E N T A.
A Deſcription of a naughty Boy, by way of
Tale:
A Boy
BOY that once to ſchool was ſent,
On play and coys was ſo much bent,
That all his maſter's art, they ſay,
Could never make him ſay great A.
His friends! would cry: you're much cd blame,
Leave, naughty boy, theſe tricks, for Thame;
Be not ſo dull, make it your play,
To learn your book; come ſay great A.
The dunce then gap'd, but did no more;
Great A was ſtill a great eye-lore.
His play-mates jogg'd him ; ſurc, ſay they,
'Tis not ſo hard to ſay great A.
No, no; but here's the caſe, ſays hc,
If I cry A, I muſt cry B,
And then go on co C and D.
And that won't do; for kill there's jod
Lies in the way, with X, Y, Zod;
And so no end I find there'll be,
If I but once learn A, B, C.
Say what you will, ſince things ſtand fo,
I ne'er will ſay my Chriſt Croſs Row.
Won't
bog
G 3
98
Won't you, ſays one, that ſtood hard by i
I'll make you ſmart then by and by;
A plant there grows in yonder wood,
That will not fail to do you good;
That with a jirk with clear your light,
And make you, tho' a dunce, grow bright,
The crab is fetch'd, he feels the ſmart,
And lays aç once the whole by heart.
The APPLICATION.
The bird that can ſing, and won't ling
Muſt be made to ſing, .
End of the FOURTH VOLUME:
GULLIVER'S LECTURES
Vol. V.
THE
LILLIPUTIAN LETTER-WRITER.
IN
THREE P R T S.
VOL. V.
A
1
;
a
PRE FACE.
}
TH
1
HERE is not perhaps any branch
of knowledge more neceſſary than.
that of Letter Writing; and though it is
probable, that many of my little readers
may not have yet learned the uſe of the
pen, yet even to ſuch theſe letters cainnot
fail to be uſeful; for, by frequently perus-?
ing thein, they will not only learn-a poa?
lite and accurate ſtile, but alſo furniſh
their minds with refined ſentiments, and
acquire epiſtolary knowledge before they
have learned the uſe of the pen.
The firſt part contains twenty letters on
juvenile topics, ſuch as little maſters and
iniſſes uſually write when they firſt begin
to forin words; and to theſe I have added
different forms of Lilliputian meſſage carts,
A 2
The
**
☆
PREFACE.
The ſecond part contains letters on
friendſhip, advice, and inſtruction, and
are written in a file a little more elevat.
ed than that of the firft part; for children
muſt be brought forward by degrees, and
great allowances muſt be inade for the lit-
tle inaccuracies they inay fall into,
When my little pupils have made them-
ſelves well acquainted with the buſineſs of
the two firſt parts, they may then proceed
to the third, in which they will meet
with different modes of expreſſion, and a
more elevated file. From a proper atten-
tion to this little book, my ſcholars will
ſoon acquire the reputation of being excel-
lent letter-writers, to their own great fatis-
faction, and to the no finall reputation of
their good friend Gulliver,
THE
5
THE
LILLIPUTIAN LETTER-WRITER.
P ART .
Letters from little Maſters and Miles ta
their Parents and Friends.
LETTER I.
From a young Lady to ber Parents.
P
RAY excufe, my deareſt mama and
papa, the badneſs of the hand-writing
of this letter, I flatter myſelf you will do
fo, when you recollect, that this is my
firſt attempt ſince I have learned to join my
letters together. I have long laboured to
acquire the pleaſure of being able to write
to you, and beg, you will be pleaſed to ac-
cept of this my firſt offerings., and be aſſur-
ed, my conſtant ſtudy has been, and
ever ſhall be, to convince you how much
I am,
Your moſt happy and dutiful Daughter.
LET
6
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
L E T T E R II.
From one Brother to another.
YOUR letter, my dear brother, came fafe
to hand. It gives me great pleaſure to
find you ſpend your time ſo agreeably in
the country; and, as our holidays are ap-
proaching, I hope foon to partake of that
pleaſure with you. In waiting to have the
happineſs of embracing you, believe me
to be;
Your moſt affectionate brother,
I
L E T T E R III.
Froni a Brother to'a Siſter,
HERE ſend you, my dear fifter, a toy
which I bought at the fair: our footman
brings it you, and I hope it will prove
worthy of your acceptance. Mr. Nichols
deſires me to convey to you his compli.
ments.
Adieu.
Sometimes think of me;
but always believe me to be,
Your moſt affectionate brother.
LET.
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
7
LETTER IV.
To & Friendi
I AM very-forry, my dear friend, that my
papa's comipands were fo ſudden for our
departure, that I could not call to take my
leave of you, but I hope we fhall foon rei
turn to London, when I ſhall have an opi
portunity of telling you in perfon, how
ſincerely I am
Your moſt faithful and affectionate friend.
LETTER V.
Fr011 a young Lady to her Parents, wiſhing
them a happy new Year.
ACCEPT, my deareft papa and mama
the compliments I pay you on the open
ing of the new year. May God grant you
both perfect health, ſpread over you his pre.
cious favours, and preſerve you to the lateſt
age, for the happineſs of your family, and
mine in particular, who am, with the ut-
moſt reſpect, my deareft papa and mama,
Your moſt humble and dutiful daughter
LET.
8
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
LETTER VI.
From a yoang Lady to her Mama.
PERMIT me, my dear mama, as well
as my pen permits, or at leaſt as well
as iny infani hand is able to direct it, to
tell you how ſenſible I am of your good
:
nefs. Be perſuaded, that by my conduct f
will endeavour more and more to dererve
your favours. My prayers are day and night
offered up to heaven for your prefervation,
ñor are you ever in the day abfent from my
thoughts. May God preſerve you, and
grant you every thing you wiſh for from
the good behaviour of
Your moft dutiful and affectionate daughter.
| 10112 a young
LETTER VII.
.
ун
Gentleman to bis Uncle.
W I intend next Saturday, my dear uncle,
to pay you a viſit.
We shall take a
boat at the Tower, and land at Greenwich;
for I have heard much of that fine lioſpital,
and liave a great deſire to ſee it. I long to
be at your country-houſe, and to allure you
how much I am, my dear uncle,
Your moſt obedient ſervant and nephew.
LET
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
L ET TER VIII.
From a young Gentleman to his Acquaintance.
My dear Simpſon,
WE E have been at Windfor, and I muſt
,
confeſs it is a moſt delightful place.
We have paſſed our time very agreeablys
yet I muſt own, that there is nothing like
home and my books. I am very much fa-
tigued with the journey, and can only add,
that I am
Your fincere friend and humble ſervant
LETTER IX.
To a young Gentlerian on the Recovery of his
Health.
I AM happy, my dear Tommy, in hear-
ing of the recovery of your health, and
I could not avoid writing to you, to convin-
ce you how much I am intereſted in your
preſervation. That you may long continue
to enjoy the bleſſings of health, is the moſt
ſincere wiſh of
Your real friend and playfellow.
LET
co
Tht Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
L E I T E R X.
The Anſwer to the above.
D
Dear Sam,
I RECEIVED your obliging letter
,
which contains a freſh mark of your
friendſhip for me. 1 am now, I thank God,
perfectly recovered. I know not, whether
I ſhould not conſider my laſt illneſs as a pu-
nilhment for my crime, in robbing Mr. Free
man's orchard, breaking the boughs, and
Spoiling the hedges. However, be that as
it may, I will do ſo no more. Believe me
ever,
Your real friend and ſchoolfellow.
I
LET TER XI.
From one young Gentleman to another going
a Voyage.
FIND, my dear Jemmy, that you are
to accompany your papa in bis voyage
to Spain. I earneſtly pray for the fucceſs
of your voyage, and that it may pleaſe God
to enable you to ſurmount all difficulties,
and at laſt accompliſh your papa's deſigns,
While waiting for your happy return, I
thall
The Lilliputian Letter:!l'ritei.
II
ſhall conſtantly think of you, hoping that
you will not forget me, and the many days
of fun we have had together. Farewell,
My dear Jemmy.
L E T T E R XII.
The Anſwer to the preceding Letter.
My dear Billy,
I AM much obliged to you for the kind
manner in which you expreſs your con-
cern for my ſafety, and believe me, that
nothing could conſole me in my ſeparation
from you, but the commands of my kind
papa. I never ſhall forget thoſe joyous hours
we have ſpent together, nor that I am
My dear Billy's for ever.
L E T T E R XIII.
From a little Miſs on ber going to Boarding-
School.
My pretty Charlotte,
Y clothes are now packing up,
and I
ſteal a moment, with tears in my eyes,
to take leave of you, to pay you a long
VOL. V.
B
farewell.
MY
:
12 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
farewell. I am now going to be ſeparat-
ed from you and my dear parents, to paſs
an age among ſtrangers, where I fear I
ſhall never meet with a Charlotte. I will
however ſtick cloſe to my books and my
needle: that I may the ſooner get back to
you.
Do let me hear often from you, and
fill your letters as full as they can hold, for
that only can conſole
Your unfortunate little but faithful friend.
L E T T E R XIV.
An Anſwer to the preceding.
I
HOPE this will reach my dear Nancy
before ſhe ſets off for her boarding ſchool.
Believe me, I am no leſs unfortunate than
yourſelf in our approaching ſepar. tion; but
I will try all the little arts I am miſtreſs of,
to perſuade my papa and mama to let me
follow you to the fame ſchool. Should I
fucceed, we ſhall be happy together, and
want no other company. Adieu, my dear,
eſt Nancy, for the preſent.
LET
The Lilliputian Letter. Writer.
13
LETTER XV.
From a young Gentleman to his afflicted Playfellow.
LAS! my dear Harry, the great loſs
you have experienced in the death of
a worthy and indulgent father, pierces me
to the heart; for I know how great was
your affection for him, and how ſenſibly
you muſt feel for your loſs. I will call
upon you tomorrow, and we will cry to-
gether; for as we always enjoyed our ſports
in company, why ſhould we be ſeparated
in our griefs? They tell me you do not
cry, but fit in gloomy ſilence. I do not
like that; for tears eaſe the heart, and give
a paſſage to the anguish of the foul. That
God may give you patience under this ter-
rible calamity, is the moſt fervent prayer
of
The partner of your miſery.
L ET TER XVI.
In Anſwer to the above.
COTHING but a letter from my dear
Billy could awaken me from the deep
and melancholy gloom I was ſunk into.
Your
Bahan
14 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
Your letter forced from my eyes a flood of
tears, and my heart is more eaſy. Am I
not wicked in exclaiming againſt my hard
fate, when it is undoubtedly the work, the
pleaſure of that great God, to whoſe will
we ought at all times to ſubmit. Others,
perhaps better children than myſelf, have
experienced the like lors, and more muſt he.
reafter ſubmit to the fame. How happy
ſhould I have been if I could have died in
his ſtead; but then I ſhould have prevent-
ed him going ſo ſoon to heaven.
My poor
mama is inconfolable, and my grief only
adds to her's; I will therefore endeavour to
conceal it. Let me ſee you to morrow,
which is all I can ſay at preſent, but what
a father have I loft!
L E T T E R XVII.
From a little Miſs to ber Brother in the Country.
My dear Sammy,
You ſeem to make good the old proverb,
Out of ſight, out of mind,
It is now
two months fince I received a letter from
you, and you ſeem to forget, that we little
maids
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer. IS
maids do not like to be treated with neglect.
You muſt not pretend to tell me, that, how-
ever fond you may be of your books,
you could not find time to write to me in
all this time. They tell me, that you ſpend
a great part of your leiſure time in compa-
ny with a little Miſs about eight years of
age, with whom you are very fond of read.
ing and converſing. Take care, if I find
that to be true, that I do not come down
and pull her cap; as for yourſelf, if you
were within reach of my little tongue,
I would give you ſuch a peal as ſhould make
you remember it for ſome time to come.
However, if you will write to me foon, I
may poſſibly forgive all that is paſt, and
ſtill conſider myſelf as
Your moſt affectionate filter.
1
L ETTER XVIII.
In Anſwer to the preceding Letter.
My dear fifter,
I AM ſorry I have given you ſo much rea-
ſon to complain of my neglect of writ-
ing to you; but be aflured that I do not
B 3
love
16 Thc Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
love you the leſs. I freely confeſs, that the
young lady you complain of has, in fome
meaſure, been the cauſe of it.
She is as
fond of her book as I am, and I believe lo.
ves you on my account. I did not tell her
what you threatened her with; but I am
ſure, were you to come here on that errand,
inſtead of pulling her cap, you would embra-
ce and love her. As to what you ſay, with
reſpect to the effects of your little tongue,
I aſſure you, I do not wiſh to come within
reach of it, when anger ſets it in motion.
But it is the only weapon you little maids
have to make uſe of in your own defence,
and that muſt not be refuſed you. How.
ever, as the holidays are now approaching,
and I ſhall foon ſee you, I will do what I
can in future to avoid ſetting your little
alarum in inotion when ſhall pay you a vi.
fit. 'Till then believe me
Your moſt affectionate brother,
LET
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
17
L E T T E R XIX.
from a little Maſter 01 a forrowful Occaſion.
Dear Billy,
YOU know I always take your advice
in matters of difficulty, and I never want-
ed it more than on the preſent occaſion.
You muſt know, that I was lately concern-
ed in hunting of a cat, which afforded us
fine fport. The cat, it fince appears, be-
longed to the juſtice of the peace, who,
finding out that I was concerned in the mat.
ter, made his complaint to my papa.
I
was called up before them, and, being clo.
ſely charged with the crime, could not deny
it; for, you know, we neither of us can
bear to tell a lye, be the conſequence what
it will. My father having promiſed the ja-
ſtice I ſhould be properly chaſtiſed, his wor-
ſhip went away perfe&tly contented; but
certain I am, that I would rather have been
foundly beaten, than receive thoſe juſt re-
proaches my dear father threw on me.
“Tom, faid he to me, with a ſtern air and
fixed countenance, I thought I had taught
you to believe, that he who can be cruel
and inhuman to brutes, would not fcruple
occaſionally to be fo to human creatures.
B 4
Amidſt
18 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
Amidſt the ſhameful pleaſure you took in tor-
menting an innocent cat, did not your heart
once tell you that ſuch ſport was inhuman,
that thoſe who could take delight in wan-
ton cruelty were worſe than the favages
they hunted, and that one of the nobleſt
perfections of human nature was the feelings
of humanity, even to the moft infignificant
animals, I may fay, from the horſe down
to the fly? If you do not bluſh for your-
ſelf, I cannot help bluſhing for you. This,
indeed, is the firſt charge of this nature that
has been laid againſt you, and I hope will
be the laſt; but, as you have raiſed my
anger againſt you; get from my ſight, and
confine yourſelf cloſely to your chamber
for three days. By that time, perhaps, my
anger may be cooled, and I may forgive
I was fo aſhamed and confuſed, that
ſo far from being able to make any reply,
I dared not to look him in the face; but,
after making the moſt reſpectful bow, I re.
tired to my chamber drowned in tears.
Now, my dear Billy, as I know my father
is fond of you, and will liſten to what
ſhall ſay, come and tell him that I am true-
ly ſenſible of my error, that I promiſe moſt
faithfully never to be again guilty of the
like,
you.”
you
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer. 19
like, and that I cannot live three days ba-
niſhed from his fight in anger. I am fen-
ſible you are more fedate than I am, and
do not fuffer wicked boys to tempt you to
do what you know is wrong; but pity me,
and do not deſert me in this day of diſtreſs.
Your reſtoring me to my father's favour,
will ſtill encreaſe, if poſſible, my eſteem
for you.
LET TER XX.
In Anſwer to the preceding Letter.
My dear Tom,
I AM unhappy at hearing that you have
fallen under the diſpleaſure of one of the
moſt indulgent fathers that ever lived; but,
as you ſeem truly ſenſible of your crime,
I will not increaſe your affliction by reproa-
ches. I will certainly call at your houſe
this evening; and, if I can find the means
of reſtoring you to your father's favour,
which I hope will not be difficult, I ſhall
conſider it as one of the happieſt moments
in the life of
Your ſincere friend and playfellow.
B
Diffe-
20
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
Different Forms of Lilliputian Meſſages by Cards.
M
ISS Baldwin preſents her compliments
to Miſs Curtis, and ſhould be proud of
the favour of her company this afternoon,
at five o'clock, to affitt, as one of the
little goflips, at the chriſtening of her new
doll.
Miſs Lepper preſents compliments to Mifs
Penton, and ſhould eſteem her company as
a favour this afternoon, at three, if not
already engaged, to decite a queſtion on an
importent piece of needle work.
Maſter Goodchild's compliments to Maſter
Lovebook, and ſhould be proud of his at:
tendance to morrow morning at ten, to at-
tend the learned Gulliver, who will then
read a lecture on the means of becoming
great and wife.
Mafter Lovebook's compliments to Maſter
Goodchild; ſhould have been proud to at-
tend the learned Gulliver's lecture; but his
papa being much indiſpoſed, muſt beg to be
excuſed attendance.
Miſs Playful's compliments to Miſs
Thoughtful, and begs the favour of her com-
pany
The Lilliputian Letter- Iriter. .
21
pany this evening at fix, to have a game
at romps, as her papa and mama will be
gone out to ſupper at Mr. and Mrs. Epi.
cure's.
Miſs Thoughtful's compliments to Mifs
Playful, and begs to be excuſed partaking
of the propoſed game at romps, eſpecially
as both her mama and papa are abroad. Miſs
Thoughtful employs all her leiſure hours
in reading the Lilliputian Library, from
which ſhe gains more in one hour, than
ſhe can from any kind of play in a twel-
vemonth.
Maſter Temple preſents his compliments
to Maſter Buſy, and begs the favour of his
company this afternoon, as ſoon as ſchool
is finiſhed, to aſſiſt him in finiſhing his new
kite.
Miſs Aikin preſents compliments to Miſs
Thompſon, and will wait on her this after-
noon, to drink tea with her, if not engag-
ed. Miſs Aikin propoſes to bring with her
a very pretty ſtory, entitled The White
Cat, in order to read it to Miſs Thompſon.
Maſter Forreſter's compliment to Maſter
Carver, and begs the favour of his compa-
ry, any time tomorrow, it being a holi-
day,
22
The. Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
day, to aſſiſt him in making a pair of dump-
moulds.
Maſter Carver's compliments to Maſter
Forreſter, and is very unhappy that he can-
not attend to his invitation, he being alrea-
dy engaged to attend his papa a little way
out of town.
Miſs Penton preſents conipliments to the
two Miſles Lepper, and fhould eſteem their
companies this afternoon as a particular fa-
vour,
in order to aſſiſt her to make up a
new cap.
Miſs Penton can ſhow the young
ladies a new-faſhioned bonnet.
Maſter Newton and his brothers preſent
compliments to Maſter Goodall, and beg
leave to acquaint him, that as they have
now leſt ſchool for the holidays, fhould be
glad of his company this evening to parta-
ke of ſome cakes and tarts.
Miſs Jackſon preſents compliments to Miſs
Johnſon on her fafe arrival from the coun-
try, and propoſes, if Miſs Johnſon is not
engaged, to pay her a viſit this afternoon,
at five.
Miſs Simpſon's compliments to Miſs Ho.
we, and ſhould be proud of her company
this
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
23
this afternoon, to attend the Lilliputian
concert.
Maſter Avery preſents compliments to Ma-
fter Jewſon, and hopes for the pleaſure of
his company to morrow morning at nine,
to pay a viſit to Col. Browne at Highgate,
the coach being ordered to be at the door
at that time.
THE
24
THE
LILLIPUTIAN
LETTER-WRITER.
PART II.
Letters on Friendſhip, Advice, and Inſtruc-
tion, for little Maſters and Miſes, who
have learned to write well.
L E T T E R I.
On Induſtry and Idleneſs.
T
HE Jews have a proverb, that he who
breeds not up his ſon to ſome trade,
makes him a thief; and the Arabians fay,
that an idle perſon is the devil's play-fellow.
Therefore Mahomet has commanded them to
exerciſe themſelves every day to fome ma-
nual occupation. Neither is the ſultan upon
his throne any more exempted from obedien-
ce to this univerſal precept than he who
cleans the ſtreets. The foul of inan is ac-
tive as fire, and can no more ceaſe from
being buſy, than water can withhold itſelf
from
The Lilliputian Letter Writer. 25
from running out at every hole of a ſieve.
Alen ſhould be always exerting their facul.
ties one way or other, and there is no me.
dium between good and evil. Whoſoever
is not employed in one, muſt neceſſarly fall
into the other. Theſe are the points to
which all the lines of human actions tend,
the centres where all our affairs meet.
May the Being who moves all things, yet
is moved of none; who fets all the ſprings
and wheels of nature going, yet remains
bimſelf in eternal reſt; beholding all things
paſt, preſent, and to come, with one un-
divided glance; -guard and protect us
here; and give us eternal happineſs in the
liſe hereafter
Yours, &c.
LE T T E R II.
From a Brother at home, to his Sifter abroad 01
a Viſit, complaining of ber not Writing.
Dear Siſter,
I MUST acquaint you how unkind it is
taken by every body here, that we fo
ſeldom hear from you; my mother, in par-
ticular,
26
The Lilliputian Letter. Il'riter.
ticular, is not a little diſpleaſed, and ſays,
you are a very idle girl; my aunt is of the
ſame opinion, and none but myſelf endea.
vours to find excuſes for you; but I beg
you will give me that trouble no more, and,
for the future, take care to deſerve no re.
buke, which you may eaſily do by writ-
ing ſoon and often. You are very ſenſible
how dear you are to us all; think then with
yourſelf, whether it be right to omit giv-
ing us the only ſatisfaction that abſence af-
fords to real friends, which is often to hear
from one another.
Our beſt reſpects to Mr. and Mrs. Herbert,
and compliments to all friends,
From your very affectionate brother.
L E T TE RIIT.
The Siſte gods Anſwer.
Dear Brother,
I'LL
'LL not fet about finding excuſes, but
own my fault, and thank you for your
kind reproof; and, in return, I promiſe you
never to be guilty of the like again. I write
this immediately on the receipt of yours, to
beg
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
27
my mama's pardon, which you, I know
can procure; as alſo my aunt's, on this my
promiſe of amendment. I hope you will
continue to excuſe all my little omiſſions,
and be aſſured, I am never fo forgetful of
myſelf, as to neglect my duty deſignedly.
I ſhall certainly write to mama by next poſt;
this is juſt going, which obliges me to con-
clude with my duty to dear mama, and
fincere reſpects to all friends,
Your eyer affectionate ſiſter.
L E T T E R IV.
A Farber's Advice to his Son at School.
My dear Child,
I COULD. not give an higher proof of
my affection toward you, than the re-
folution I was obliged to exert, in fending
you from me. I preferred your advantage
to my own pleaſure, and ſacrificed fondneſs
to duty. I ſhould have done this fooner,
but waited till my enquiries had found out
a perſon whoſe character might be reſpon.
fible for your education; and Mr.
was,
at length, my choice, for that important
Vol. V.
C
truſt.
28 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
truſt. He will be a fitter parent to you
for the preſent times, than either of thoſe
you
left behind you; he will ſee you, as
you are, without the dangerous bias of na-
tural affection: His approbation muſt be
earned by merit; ours might be but the par.
tiality of tender connexion : He is now the
fubſtitute of our authority; and you are to
conſider, that the duty and ſubmiſſion which
we had a claim to, is, for a time, trans-
ferred to him. Your obedience, then, will
be without murmuring or reluctance: more
eſpecially, when you reflect, that a ſtrict
attention to his appointments, and an impli.
cit compliance with his commands, are not
only to form the rule of your ſafe conduct
in this life, but to be the earneſt of
your
happineſs in the next.
With regard to your ſchool connexions,
it muſt be impoſſible for me to give you any
inſtruction at preſent; for your affections
will form to themſelves general attachments,
till the improvement of your own fenfe and
virtue may enable you to diſtinguiſh reſpec-
tive merit in others: all that I ſhall obſerve
to you upon this head, is, that it is very
probable there may not be many among
them who have been better born than you
are;
-
The Lilliputian Letter-Iriter.
29
are; but it is alſo as likely, that there may
be as few who will not have the advanta.
ges of better fortunes; and I hope that this
double conſideration will excite you always
to act up to that fpirit and character which
becomes your family, and at the ſame time
to behave with ſuch oeconomy and humili.
ty, as befits your circumſtances.
I am not ſo vain as to imagine, that you
are now capable of comprehending the full
ſcope of this letter; but I intreat that you
will keep it by you till you are.
I do not
write to your preſent apprehenſions, but to
that underſtanding and virtue, which, 'I
truſt in God, and Mr. 's tuition, you
will very ſoon acquire. I exerciſe a fond
neſs, I fulfil a duty, I confér my blefling
and am, my deareſt child, your truely affec
tionate father.
LETTER V.
A Son's Letter at School to his Fatber.
Honoured Sir,
I AM greatly obliged to you for all your
favours; all I have to hope is, that the
Cena
pro.
30 The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
progreſs I make in my learning will be no
diſagreeable return for the fame. Gratitu.
de, duty, and a view of future advantages,
all contribute to make me thoroughly fenſi.
ble how much I ought to labour for my own
improvement, and your ſatisfaction, and to
ſhow myſelf upon all occafions,
Your moſt obedient, and ever dutiful fon.
1
LETTER VI.
From Mr. Pope to Mr. Sreel, on Sickneſs and
dying young
YOU formerly obſerved to me, that no.
thing, made a more ridiculous figure in
a man's life than the diſparity we often find
in him, fick and well: thus one of an un-
fortunate conſtitution is perpetually exhibit-
ing a miſerable example of the weakneſs
of his mind, and of his body, in their turns.
I have had frequent opportunities of late to
conſider myſelf in theſe different views, and
I hope have received fome advantage by it,
if what Waller ſays be true, that
The fouil's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd,
Lets in new light, chro' chinks that time has made.
Then
1
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 30
Then ſurely fickneſs, contributing no leſs
than old age to the ſhaking down this ſcaf.
folding of the body, may diſcover the ins
ward ſtructure more plainly. Sickpeſs is a
ſort of early old age: it teaches us a diffi.
dence in our earthly ſtate, and inſpires us
with the thoughts of a future, better than
a thoufand volumes of philofophers and dia
vines. It gives ſo warning a concuſſion to
thoſe props of our vanity, our ſtrength and
youth, that we then think of fortifying
ourſelves within, when there is ſo little des
pendence upon our outworks. Youth, at
the very beft, is but a betrayer of human
life in a gentler and ſmoother manner than
age: It is like a ſtream that nouriſhes a plant
upon a bank, and cauſes it to flouriſh and
bloffom to the fight, but, at the ſame time,
is undermining it at the root in ſecret. My
youth has dealt more fairly and openly with
me; it has afforded ſeveral proſpects of my
danger, and given me an advantage not very
common to young men, that the tranſact.
ions of the world have not dazzled me very
much; and I begin where moſt people end,
with a full conviction of the emptineſs of
all forts of ambition, and the unſatisfactory
nature of all human pleaſure. When a finart
C 3
fit
32 The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
fit of Gckneſs tells me this ſcurvy tenement
of my body will fall in a little time, I am
e'en as unconcerned as was the honeſt Hi-
bernian, who, being in bed in the great
ſtorm fome years ago, and told the houſe
would tumble over his head, made anſwer,
“What care I for the houſe, I am only a
lodger.”
When I reflect what an inconſi.
derable little atom every ſingle man is,
with reſpect to the whole creation, me-
thinks it is a ſhame to be concerned at the
removal of ſuch a trivial animal as I am.
The morning after my exit, the fun will
riſe as bright as ever, the flowers fiell as
ſweet, the plants fpring as green, the world
will proceed in its old.courfe, people will
laugh as heartily, and marry as faſt as they
uſed to do. "The memory of man,
man, as it
is elegantly exprefled in the Book of Wir
dom, pafleth away as the rememberance of
a gueſt that tarrieth but one day." There
are reaſons enough, in the fourth chapter
of the fame book, to make any young man
contented with the proſpect of death. “For
honourable age is not that which ſtandeth
in length of time, or is meaſured by the
number of years. But wiſdom is the grey
hair to men, and an unſpotted life is old
age.
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 33
age. He was taken away fpeedily, left
wickedneſs fhould alter his underſtanding,
or deceit beguile his foul,” &c.
I am yours, &c.
LET TER VII.
To a Lady, inviting ber to a Party of Pleaſure.
!
Dear Madam,
EOPLE are intereſted who invite you
to be of their parties, becauſe you are
ſure to make them agreeable: this is a rea.
ſon why you will not perhaps always com-
ply when you are aſked to be of them; but
it is certainly a cauſe of your being ſolicit-
ed oftener than any woman in the world,
After you was gone yeſterday, Mr. Bohụn
propoſed an expedition to Richmond for to-
morrow; and he requeſted me, for he
thought he had no title, to ſuch a liberty.
himſelf, to tell you that all underſtood you
to be of the party, though you happened
to be out of the way when it was propoſed.
I hope you are not engaged, the weather
promiſes to be favourable, and your com-
pany you know how we value. I need not
tell
C4
34 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
tell you, that we ſhall ſuppoſe it a matter
of form if you are abſent: what we ſhall
think it if you go with us, you will know
when you remember what every body thinks
who has the pleaſure of your company.
beg you will not invent an excuſe, but go
with us.
I am, with the greateſt ſincerity,
Dear Madam,
Your moſt obedient humble fervant.
LETTER VIII.
Letter of Thanks, deco
I
Received the favour of yours, with a
very kind preſent; and know not indeed,
at this time, any other way to ſhow my gra-
titude, than by my hearty thanks for the
fame. Every thing you do carries a charm
with it; your manner of doing it is as
agreeable as the thing done. In ſhort, fir,
my heart is full, and would overflow with
gratitude, did I not ſtop, and ſubſcribe my-
felf,
Your moſt obliged,
And obedient humble ſervant.
LET.
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
35
LETTER IX.
From an elder Brother to a younger, giving good
Advics.
Dear Brother,
A S you you are now gone from home,
and are arrived at years of diſcretion,
I thought it not amiſs to put you in mind,
that our childiſhı affairs ought now to be en.
tirely laid afide, and inſtead of them, more
ſerious thoughts, and things of more con-
fequence, ſhould take place; whereby we
may add to the reputation of our family,
and gain to ourſelves the good eſteem of
being virtuous and diligent in life, which is
of great value, and ought to be ſtudied be
yond any trifling amuſements whatſoever,
for it will be an ornament in youth, and a
comfort in old age.
You have too much good-nature to be
offended at my advice, efpecially when I
aſſure you; that I as ſincerely with your
happineſs and advancement in life as I do
my own.
We are all, thank God, very
well, and deſire to be remembered to you:
pray write as often as opportunity and lei.
ſure will permit; and be allured a letter from
you will always give great pleaſure to all
your
C 5
36
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
your friends here, but to none more than
your moſt affectionate brother, and ſincere
humble ſervant, &c.
L E T T E R X.
Hiſtory of Human Life.
REMEMBER, my ſon, that buman life
is the Journey of a day. We riſe in
the morning of youth, full of vigour, and
full of expectation; we ſet forward with
fpirit and hope, with gaiety, and with
diligence, and travel on awhile, in the ſtrait
road of piety, towards the manſions of reſt.
In a ſhort time we remit our fervour, and
endeavour to find ſome mitigation of our
duty, and ſome more eaſy means of obtain-
ing the ſame end. We then relax our vi-
gour, and reſolve no longer to be terrified
with crimes at a diſtance, but rely upon
our own conſtancy, and venture to approach
what we reſolve never to touch. We thus
enter the bowers of eaſe and repoſe in the
ſhades of ſecurity. Here the heart ſoftens,
and vigilance fubfides; we are then wil-
ling to enquire, whether another advance
cannot be made, and whether we may not,
at
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
37
at leaſt, turn our eyes upon the gardens
of pleaſure. We approach them with ſcru-
ple and heſitation; we enter them, but en-
ter timorous and trembling, and always hope
to paſs through them without loſing the
road of virtue, which we, for a while, keep
in our ſight; and to which we propoſe to
return. But temptation ſucceeds temptation,
and one compliance prepares' us for another;
we, in time, loſe the happineſs of innocen.
ce, and folace our diſquiet with ſenſual gra-
tifications. By degrees we let fall the re-
memberance of our original intention, and
quit the only adequate object of rational
defire, We cntangle ourſelves in buſineſs,
immerſe ourſelves in luxury, and rove
through the labyrinths of inconftancy; till
the darkneſs of old age begins to invade us,
and diſeaſe and anxiety obſtruct our way.
We then look back upon our lives with hore
ror, with forrow, with repentance; and
with, but too often vainly wiſh, that we
had not forſaken the ways of virtue.
LET.
38
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
LETTER XI.
A ſhort Deſcription of London.
LAST night I arrived at London, after
an agreeable journey of two days, and
an abſence from three months of this ſcene
of hurry and confufion: every place ſeems
to wear a new garb, and every object ap.
pears very odd and uncouth to the eye,
I cannot, as yet, reconcile my thoughts
to fo fudden a tranſition, the pleaſing re-
memberance of the pleaſures I enjoyed
with you, are not to be ſo foon forgotten.
Oh happy ſhades! delightful walks!
With what pleaſure have I rifen with the
ſun, to enjoy the cool, the fragrant breeze,
that ever breathes around you! To ſtray
through the flowery meads, and verdant
fields, where peace and harmleſs pleaſures
ever reign! To hear the foaring lark, and
all the tuneful choir, in concert fing! This,
this, my friend, was joy, a joy unknown
to pomp and power! To roam with thee
at ſuch an hour as this; To mark each di.
ftant ſcene, and meditate on all that's great
and good! It was joy, it was worldly bliſs
complete!
But
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
39
But now, Oh what a change! Around
me all is noiſe; Ambition here has placed
her reſtleſs throne; few, very few, enjoy
the tranquil hour; they know no bliſs but
that of power and pride. ---Gold, glittering
gold, engages every beart. For that, what
toils, what cares poor mortals undergo!
For that, am I not forced to quit the rural
ſhades, the peaceful groves, and, more, my
deareſt friend? - But it is my lot, and I
muſt be content.
L Ε Τ Τ Ε R XII. .
Invitation of a Lady into the Country.
I
My dear Harriot,
DO not know whether I flatter myſelf
with an opinion of your ſpeaking to me
the other day with an uncommon air of
friendſhip, or whether I am ſo happy to
hold that place, of which I fhould be fo am-
bitious in your eſteem. I thought you fpo.
ke with concern at our parting for the ſum-
mer, on our family's retiring into the coun-
try. For heaven's fake, my dear, what
can you do all the dull ſeaſon in London ?
Vaux-
40 The Lilliputian Letter. Writer,
Vauxhall is not for more than twice; and
I think Ranelagh one would not fee above
half a dozen times in the year.
What is
it then you find to entertain you in an empty
town for four or five months together? I
would fain perſuade you not to be in love
with ſo diſagreeable a place, and I have an
intereſt in it; for I am a petitioner to you
to ſtay this ſummer with us, at leaſt I beg
you will try. We go, my dear, on Mon-
day: will you go with us? For there is a
place in the coach; or will you come when
we are ſettled? I am greatly of opinion that
it will pleaſe you. I am ſure I need not
tell you we ſhall do all we can to render it
agreeable, or that you will make us very
happy in complying with the invitation.
You have not ſeen our houſe; but it is a
very pleaſant one.
There are fine proſpects
from the park, and a river runs through the
garden; nor are we quite out of the way
of entertainment. You know there is a great
deal of company about the place; and we
have an affeinbly within a mile of us. What
fhall I ſay elſe to tempt you to come?
Why, I will tell you, that you will make
us all the happieſt people in the world; and
that when you are tired, you shall not be,
teaſed
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
:
teaſed to ſtay. Dear Harriot, think of it;
you will confer an obligation on her, who
is, with the trueſt reſpect,
Your affectionate friend.
LE T T E R XIII.
Laura to
Aurelia.
COULD. your importunity have prevail-
ed with my brother to have left me in
London, you had been free from the ve.
xation that I ſhall certainly give you, by
making you the confident of all my coun-
try adventures; and I hope you will relie-
ve my chagrin, by telling me what the dear
bewitching buſy world is doing, while I
am idly fauntering away my time in rural
ſhades. How happy are you, my dear
Aurelia ! how I envy you the enjoyment
of duft, of crowds, and noiſe, with all the
polite hurry of the beau monde !
My brother brought me hither to ſee a
country ſeat he has lately purchaſed: he
would fain perſuade me it is finely ſituated;
but I fhould think it more finely fituated in
the Mall, or even in Cheapfide, than here.
Indeed,
42 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
Indeed, I hardly know where we are, only
that it is at a dreadful diſtance from the
opera, from the maſquerade, and every
thing in this world that is worth living for.
I can ſcarce tell you whither to direct your
letters; we are certainly at the end of the
earth, on the borders of the continent, the
limits of the habitable globe; under the po-
lar ſtar, among wild people and favages,
I thought we ſhould never have come to
the end of our pilgrimage; nor could I for-
bear aſking my brother, if we were to tra.
vel by dry land to the antipotes; not a mile
but ſeemned ten, that carried me from Lon-
don, the centre of all my joys. The coun-
try is my averſion; I hate trees and hedges,
ſteep hills, and ſilent vallies: the fatyriſts
may laugh, but to me
Green fields, and Drady groves, and cryſtal ſprings,
And larks, and nighringales, are odious things.
I had rather hear London cries, with the
rattle of coaches, than fit liſtening to the
melancholy murmur of purling brooks, or
all the wild muſic of the woods; the ſmell
of violets give me the hyſtericks; freſh air
murthers me; my conftitution is not robuſt
enough to bear it; the cooling zephyrs will
fan
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
43
I have no
fan me into a catarrh, if I ſtay here much
longer. If there are the ſeats of the Muſes,
let them unenvied enjoy their glittering
whimſies, and converfe with the viſionary,
beings of their own forming.
fancy for dryads and fairies, nor the leaſt
prejudice to human ſociety; a mere earthly
beau, with an embroidered coat, ſuits my
taſte better than an airy lover with his ſhin-
ing trefles and rainbow wings.
The fober twilight, which has employed
fo many ſoft defcriptions, is with me a very
dull period, nor does the moon, on which
the poets doat, with all her ſtarry train, de-
light me half fo much as an affembly-room
illuminated with wax candles: this is what
I fhould prefer to the glaring fun in his me-
ridian fplendour: day-light makes me fick,
it has ſomething in it fo common and val.
gar, that it ſeems fitter for pealants to make
hay in, or .country lafles to ſpin by, than
for the uſe of people of diſtinction. You
pity me, I know, dear Aurelia, in this de.
plorable ſtate; the whole creation is a blank
to me, it is all joyleſs and defolate. In
whatever gay images the muſes have dref
fed theſe ruſtic abodes, I have not penetra.
tion enough to diſcover them. Not the flow.
VOL. V.
D
ery
44: The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
can
ery field, nor ſpangled ſky, the roſy morn,
nor balmy evening, recreate my
thoughts: I am neither a religious nor poe.
tical enthufiaft; and without either of theſe
qualifications, what ſhould I do in ſilent re.
treats and penſive ſhades? I find myſelf lit.
tle at eaſe in this abſence of the noiſy diver-
fions of the town; it is hard for me to keep
up my fpirits in leiſure and retirement: it
makes me anxiouſly inquiſitive what will be-
come of me when my breath flies away.
Death, that gaſtly phantom, perpetually in.
trudes on my folitude, and ſome doleful
knell, from a neighbouring ſteeple, often
calls upon me to ruminate on coffins aod
funerals, graves and gloomy fepulchres.
As theſe diſmal ſubjects put me in the va-
pours, and make me ſtart at my own fha.
dow, the fooner I come to town the bet-
ter; and I wiſh, my dear Aurelia, you
would oblige me fo far as to lay a ſcheme
for my eſcape. Adieu.
LET
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer. 45
LETTER XIV.
Proves Women of equal Underſtanding with Men.
IN
N ancient times, when mankind began to
frame themſelves into focieties and ſtates,
the male part, perceiving they were born
with greater bodily ſtrength than the fema.
le, vainly concluded, they were originally
indued with greater ſenſe, and nobler fouls;
ſo, partially arrogated to themſelves the fu.
periority, at the ſame time that they refuſ.
ed, very unfairly, the ſame law of reaſon
to an horſe, though they acknowledge bim
to be an animal of greater ſtrength than
they.
Uneducated, and unimproved; or, wbat
is worſe, condemned to a wrong education,
it is as unfair to cenſure us for the weak-
neſs of our underſtandings, as it would be
to blame the Chineſe women for little feet;
for neither is owing to the imperfection of
nature, but to the conſtraint of cuſtom.
When women then affociate themſelves
with men of moderate underſtandings, it is
only becauſe it is natural and reaſonable to
prefer that degree of ſenſe, which they com.
prehend, to that which is beyond their ap-
prehenſion, and this is nothing more than
You
Da
46
The Lilliputian Letter- It'riter.
you would do yourſelf; for I do not know
what pleaſure you could have in company
with a rabbi, merely for his underſtanding
Hebrew, of which you hardly know the
type.
I believe that women always prefer men
of the beſt ſenſe, as far as the limits of their
own underſtanding extend; beyond which
it would be enthufiafin, not rational affec-
tion, to carry their regards. I confefs, in-
deed, that there muſt be an entire equality
between the rivals, with regard to fortune,
titles, dreſs, perſon, &c, before the ſuperio-
rity of underſtanding can have the chance of
being conſidered.
But then this is owing
to the falfe biaſs of female education, which
directs us to wrong means of happineſs; and,
inſtead of being cenſured for our error, we
ought to be pitied for not being rendered
capable of judging right.
- Henceforward, therefore, I'interdict you,
wife fools, from the unjuſtneſs of any fatire,
againſt our ſex, till you have, by a proper
and more liberal education, given our no.
ble and ingenuous natures fair play to ex-
ert themſelves. Do this, if ye dare, ye
imperious tyrants, and ye ſhall ſee how
ſmall we will make you. Oh! let us once
be
The Liliputian Letter- Jūriter.
47
be free ; for know, that arts and ſciences
cannot raiſe their heads under defpotic fway.
I ſhall mention but one thing more, which
appears to me a very natural thought, that
Providence certainly intended women, ra-
ther than men, for the ſtudy and comtem:
plation of philoſophy and ſcientific knowled.
ge; as the delicacy of our frame ſeems
fitter for fpeculation than action; and our
home province affords us greater leiſure than
men; who, from their robuſt and active na-
tures, feem calculated more for bufineſs,
labour, and mechanic arts. Out, then, ye
vile ufurpers of our natural rights and liber-
ties; and oh! for an army of Amazons to
vindicate our wrongs.
Jane Montague.
L E T TER XV.
A fingular Method to drive away Grief
i
Dear Harry,
LAST poft brought me the pleaſing ac-
count of your recovery; ſurely fome
fylph, whofe charge I am, contrived that
it fhould then arrive, even in the blackeſt
D3
hour
48
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
hour of all my life, when my ſpirits were
funk to ſuch an ebb, together with my own
uneaſineſs, and fear for you, that nought
within this ſublunary ſphere, but thou alo.
pe, couldſt raiſe them.
Now, give me leave to tell you,
that
nothing, but the joy I feel at your return.
ing health could make me bear the remain:
der of your letter with patience; if your
phyſicians had not pronounced you out of
danger, I ſhould have done it, from your
writing in fo peeviſh a manner; for you ſay
of yourſelf, and I have once or twice re-
marked it, that, when you are ill, you feel
more tenderneſs, humanity, and good-natu-
re about you, than at any other time; which
is contrary to the general obſervation, that
perſons in fickneſs, pain, or age, even at
thoſe ſeaſons when they moſt ſtand in need
of comforts of fociety, and the aſſiſtance of
their friends, do then more particularly, and
abſurdly too, contrive to deprive themſelves
of both, by ill-humour, and perverſeneſs of
temper. Perhaps, providence has wiſely im-
planted this weakneſs in human nature, to
take off ſomewhat of the concern, we ſhould
otherwiſe be too ſenſible of, for the fickneſs
or death of our friends or parents'; which is
ſome.
The Lilliputien Letter-Writer. 49
ſomething like the good natured expedient
I heard made uſe of by a gentleman, who
frequently retired to the country to ſee his
father during his vacation of buſineſs at Dub-
lin, and had a little brother there, who was
ſo extremely fond of him, as to cry for a
week after his departure; being informed
thereof, he ever after contrived to pick fome
quarrel with the boy, the morning he was
to go away; this ſucceeded ſo well, that
the little fellow uſed to call for his horſes,
and cry, "Well, I am glad you are not to
ſtay here another day.” But, indeed, I ge-
rally obferve you fcold me when you find
me melancholy; at leaſt, I perceive it more
then as if I was a croſs child, to be chid
into goodhumour. Adieu !
D4
THE
SO
:
,
THE
LILLIPUTIAN LETTER-WRITER.
PART IIT.
Hiſtorical and Miſcellaneous Letters, to cor-
rect the Style, and improve the Mind,
L E T T E R I.
By Mr. Gay, giving an Account of two Lovers
ftruck dead by the ſame faſh of Lightning.
Stanton-Harcourt, Aug. 1718.
HE only news that you can expect
for I am quite out of the world; and there
is ſcarce any thing that can reach .me, ex-
cept the noiſe of thunder, which undoubt.
edly you have heard too: We have read,
in old authors, of high towers levelled by
it to the ground, while the humble vallies
have eſcaped: the only thing that is proof
againſt it is the laurel, which however I take
to be no great ſecurity to the brains of mo.
dern
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
SO
dern authors. But to let you ſee that the
contrary to this often happens, I muſt ac-
quaint you, that the higheſt and moſt extra.
vagant heap of towers in the univerſe, which
is in this neighbourhood, ſtand ſtill unde-
faced, while a cock of barley in our next field
has been conſumed to aſhes. Would to God
that this heap' of barley had been all that
had periſhed! For unhappily beneath this
little Thelter fat two much more conſtant
lovers than ever were found in romance, un-
der the ſhade of a beech tree. John He.
wit was a well-ſet man, of about five-and-
twenty; Sarah Drew might be rather called
comely than beautiful, and was abour the
fame age. They had pafled through the va-
rious labours of the year together, with the
greateſt ſatisfaction. If ſhe milked, it was
his morning and evening care to bring the
cows to her hand. It was but laſt fair that
he bought her a preſent of green filk for her
ſtraw hat, and the poly on her ſilver ring
was of his chooſing. Their love was the
talk of the whole neighbourhood; for ſcan.
dal never affirmed, that he had any other
views than the lawful pofleflion of her in
marriage. It was that very morning that
he had obtained the conſent of her parents,
D 5
and
52 The Lilliputiar Letter-Writer.
and it was but till the next week that they
were to wait to be happy: perhaps in the
intervals of their work, they were now
talking of their wedding clothes, and John
was fuiting ſeveral ſorts of poppies and field
flowers to her complexion, to chooſe her a
knot for her wedding-day. While they
were thus buſied, it was on the laſt of July,
between two and three in the afternoon, the
clouds grew black, and ſuch a ſtorm of light-
ning and thunder enſued, that all the labou.
rers made the beſt of their way to what ſhel.
ter the trees and hedges afforded.
Sarah was frighted, and fell down in a
fwoon on a heap of barley, John, who ne-
ver ſeparated from her, fat town by her
ſide, having raked together two or three
lieaps, the better to ſecure her from the
ſtorm. Immediately there was heard ſo loud
a crack, as if heaven had ſplit afunder; every
one was now folicitous for the ſafety of his
neighbour, and called for one another through-
out the field: no anſwer being returned to
thoſe who called to our lovers, they ſtept to
the place where they lay; they perceived
the barley all in a ſmoke, and fpied this
faithful pair, John with one arm about Sa-
rah's neck, and the other held over her, as
to
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 53
to ſcreen her from the lightning. They
were ſtruck dead, and ſtiffened in this ten-
der poſture. Sarah's left eye-brow was ſing.
ed, and there appeared a black ſpot on her
breaft: her lover was all over black, but not
the leaſt ſigns of life were found in either.
Attended by their melancholy companions,
they were conveyed to the town, and the
next day were interred in Stanton-Harcourt
church.yard. My Lord Harcourt, at Mr.
Pope's and my requeſt, has cauſed a ſtone
to be placed over them, upon condition
that we furniſh the epitaph, which is as
follows:
When Eaſtern lovers feed the fun'ral fire,
On the ſame pile the faithful pair expire:
Here pitying heaven that virtue mutual found,
And blaſted both, that it might neither wound,
Hearts ro fincere th’ Almighty ſaw well pleas'd,
Sene his own lightning, and the victims ſeis'd.
4AN
But my Lord is apprehenſive that the coun-
try people will not underſtand this; and Mr.
Pope ſays he will make one with fome-
thing of fcripture in it, and with as little of
poetry as Hopkins and Sternhold.
The epitaph was this:
Near
54 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
Near this place lie de bodies of
John HEWITT and MARY DREW,
an induſtrious young man
and virtuous maiden of this pariſh;
who, being at harveſt-work,
with ſeveral others,
were, in one inſtant, killed by lightning,
the laſt day of July, 1718.
Think not, by rig'rous judgement ſcis'd,
A pair fo faithful could cxpire ;
Vištims so pure heav'n law well pleas’d,
And ſnatch'd them in celeſtial fire.
Live well, and fear no ludden fate;
When God calls Virtue to the grave.
Alike 'tis juſtice, foon or late,
Mercy alike to kill or ſave.
Vireue, unmovid, can hear the call,
And face the tale that melts the balla
LET.
The Lilliputian Letter. IVriter.
SS
L E T T E R II.
Pliny to Tacitus, giving on Account of the great
Eruption of Mount Veſuvius.
Your requeſt, that I would ſend you
an account of my uncle's death, in or-
der to tranſmit a more exact translation of
it to poſterity, deſerves my acknowledg.
ments; for if this accident ſhould be cele.
brated by your pen, the glory of it, I am
well aſſured, will be rendered for ever ile
luftrious, And notwithſtanding he periſh-
ed by a misfortune, which, as it involved
at the ſame time a moſt beautiful country in
ruins, and deſtroyed ſo many populous ci-
ties, ſeems to promiſe him an everlaſting re-
memberance; and although he has himſelf
compoſed many and laſting works, yet I am
perfuaded, the mentioning him in your im.
mortal writings, will greatly contribute to
eternize his name. He was at that time
with the fleet under his command at Mife.
On the 23d of Auguſt, about one in
the afternoon, my mother deſired him to ob.
ſerve a cloud, which appeared of a very un-
uſual ſize and flape: he had juſt returned
from taking the benefit of the ſun, and af.
ter bathing himſelf in cold water, and tak.
ing
num,
So The Lilliputian Letter-Ivriter,
ing a ſlight repaſt, was retired to his ſtudy:
he immediately aroſe and went out upon an
eminence, from whence he might more di.
ſtinctly view this uncommon appearance. It
was not, at that diſtance, diſcernable from
what mountain this cloud ifſued; but it was
found afterwards to afcend from Mount Ve.
fuvius. I cannot give you a more exact
deſcription of its figure, than by reſembling
it to that of a pine-tree, for it fhot up a
great height in the form of a trunk, which
extended itſelf at the top into a ſort of bran-
ches; occaſioned, I imagine, either by a
fudden guſt of air that impelled it, the for.
ce of which decreaſed as it advanced up.
wards; or the cloud itſelf, being preſſed
back again by its own weight, expanded in
this manner. It appeared ſometimes bright,
and fometimes dark and ſpotted, and was
more or leſs impregnated with earth or cin.
ders. This extraordinary phaenomenon ex-
cited my uncle's philoſophical curioſity to
take a nearer view of it. He ordered a
Hght veffel to be got ready, and gave me
the liberty, if I thought proper, to attend
bim. I rather choſe to continue my ſtudies;
for, as it happened, he had given me an
émployment of that kind. As he was comº
ing
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer, 57
come
ing out of the houſe, be received a note .
from Rectina, the wife of Baflus, who was
in the uttermoft alarm, at the imminent dan.
ger which threatened her; for her villa be.
ing ſituated at the foot of Mount Veſuvius,
there was no way to eſcape but by fea;
ſhe earneſtly intreated him, therefore, to
to her affiftance. He accordingly
changed his firſt defign; and what he began
with a philoſophical, he purſued with an
heroical turn of mind. He ordered the
gallies to put to fea, and went himſelf
on boart with an intention of aflitting, not
only Rectina, but ſeveral others, for the vil.
las ſtand extremely thick apon that beauti.
ful coaft; when haſtening to the place from
whence others fled with the utmoſt terrour,
he ſteered his direct courſe to the point of
danger, and with ſo much calmneſs and pre-
fence of mind, as to be able to make and
dictate his obfervations upon the motion and
figure of that dreadful ſcene. He was dow
ſo near the mountain, that the cinders, which
grew thicker and hotter the nearer he ap-
proached, fell into the ſhips, together with
pumice-ſtones and black pieces of burning
rock: they were likewiſe in danger not only
of being a ground by the ſudden retreat of
the
58 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
the ſea, but alſo from the vaſt fragments
which rolled down from the mountain, and
obſtructed all the ſhore.
Here he ſtopped
to conſider whether he fliould return back
again, to which the pilot adviſed him: "For.
tune, ſays he, befriends the brave; carry
me to Pomponianus.” Pomponianus was
then at Stabiae, ſeparated by a gulph, which
the fea, afrer ſeveral inſenſible windings,
forms upon that ſhore. He had already ſent
his baggage on board; for though he was
not at that time in actual danger, yet being
within the view of it, and indeed extreme.
Jy near, if it fhould in the leaſt increaſe,
he was determined to put to ſea as foon as
the wind ſhould change. It was favourable,
however, for carrying my uncle to Pompo-
pianus, whom he found in the greateſt cont
fternation He embraced him with tender.
nefs, encouraging and exhorting him to keep
up his fpirits; and, the more to diſſipate
his fears, he ordered, with an air of uncon-
cern, the baths to be got ready; when, af-
ter having bathed, he ſat down to fupper
with great chearfulneſs, or at leaſt, what is
equally heroic, with all the appearance of
it. In the mean while, the eruption from
Mount Veſuvius flamed out from ſeveral
places
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer. 59
places with much violence, which the dark-
neſs of the night contributed to render ſtill
inore viſible and dreadful. But my uncle,
in order to ſoothe the apprehenſions of his
friend, aſſured him it was only the burning
of the villages, which the country people
had abandoned to the flames. After this he
retired to reſt, and, it is moſt certain, he
was ſo little diſcompoſed as to fall into a
deep ſleep; for, being pretty fat, and breath-
ing hard, thoſe who attended without actual-
ly heard him ſpore. The court wbich led
to his apartment being now almoſt full of
ſtones and aſhes, if he had continued there
any time longer, it would have been im-
pollible for him to have made his way out;
it was thought proper therefore to awaken
him. He got up, and went to Pomponia-
nus and the reſt of his company, who were
not unconcerned enough to think of going
to bed. They conſulted together, whether
it would be moſt prudent to truſt to their
houſes; which now ſhook from ſide to ſide
with frequent and violent concuſſions, or
flee to the open fields, where the calcined
ſtones and cinders, though light indeed, yet
fell in large ſhowers, and threatened de-
ſtruction. In this diſtreſs they reſolved for
VOL. V.
E
the
60
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
the fields, as the leſs dangerous ſituation of
the two: A reſolution, which, while the
reſt of the company were hurried in, by
their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool
and deliberate conſiderations. They went
out, then, having pillows tied upon their
heads with napkins; and this was their who-
le defence againſt the ſtorm of ſtones that
fell round them. Though it was now day
every where elſe, with them it was darker
than the moſt obſcure night, excepting only
what light proceeded from the fire and fla-
ines. They thought proper to go down far-
ther upon the ſhore, to obſerve if they
might fuſely put out to ſea, but they found
the waves ftill run extremely high and boi.
ſterous. There my uncle, having drank a
draught of cold water, threw himfelf down
upon a cloth which was ſpread for him;
when immediately the flames, and a ſtrong
finell of fulphur, which was the forerunner
of them, difperfed the reſt of the company,
and obliged him to ariſe. He raiſed himſelf
up, with the aſſiſtance of two of his fer-
vants, and inſtantly fell down dead; fuffo.
cated, as I conjecture, by ſome grofs and
noxious vapour, having always had weak
lungs, and frequently ſubject to a difficulty
of
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer. 61
of breathing. As ſoon as it was light again,
which was not till the third day after the
melancholy accident, his body was found en-
tire, and without any marks of violence
upon it, exactly in the fatne poſture that
he fell, and looking more like a man aſleep
than dead.
LE T T E R III.
Giving a Deſcription of the Tower, Monument,
and St. Paul's Church.
Honoured Madam,
AT my departure, I remember you or
dered me to ſend you accounts of even
ry thing I ſaw remarkable in London; I will
obey your commands, as well as I can;
but pray excuſe my defects, and let my
will plead for my inability to entertain my
abſent friends.
I am juſt now come from ſeeing the To.
wer, Monument, and St. Paul's cathedral,
places which I remember to have heard much
talk of in the country, and which ſcarce
any body that comes to London omits ſeeing.
The
E 2
62 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
The Tower, which ſtands by the Thames,
is a large ſtrong building, ſurrounded with
a high wall, about a mile in compaſs, and
a broad ditch ſupplied with water out of the
river Thames. Round the outward wall are
guns planted, which on extraordinary oc-
caſions are fired. At the enterance, the firſt
thing we ſaw was a collection of wild beaſts,
viz, lions, panthers, tigers, &c. alſo eag.
les and vultures: theſe are of no fort of uſe,
and kept only for curioſity and ſhow. We
next went to the Mint, which is in the To.
wer, where we ſaw the manner of coining
money, which is paſt my art, eſpecially in
the compaſs of a letter, to deſcribe. From
thence we went to the Jewel Room, and
fáw the crown of England, and other rega-
Hia, which are well worth ſeeing, and gave
me a great deal of pleaſure. The next is
the Horſe Armoury, a grand fight indeed;
here are fifteen of our Engliſh monarchs on
horſeback, all dreſſed in rich armour, and
attended by their guards; but I think it not
fo beautiful as the next thing we ſaw, which
was the Small Armoury: This conſiſts of
pikes, muſkets, ſwords, halberds, and piſtols,
fufficient, as they told us, for threeſcore
thouſand men; and are all placed in ſuch
beautiful
The Lilliputian Letter. II'riter. 63
beautiful order, and in ſuch different figures,
repreſenting the fun, ftar and garter, half
moons, and ſuch like, that I was greatly
delighted with it; and they being all kept
clean and ſcowered, made a moſt brilliant
appearance.
Hence we went and ſaw the
train of artillery, in the Grand Storehouſe,
as they call it, which is filled with cannon
and mortars, all extremely fine: here is alſo
a diving-bell, with other curiofities too te-
dious to mention; which having examined,
we came away and went to the Monument,
which was built in rememberance of the fire
of London: it is a curious lofty pillar, two
hundred feet high, and on the top a gallery,
to which we went by tedious winding ſtairs
in the inſide; from this gallery, we had a
ſurvey of the whole city: and here having
feafted our eyes with the tops of houſes,
ſhips, and a multitude of boats on the river
Thames, we came down and went to St.
Paul's cathedral, which is a moſt magnifi-
cent pile, and ſtands on high ground near
the centre of the city. This noble building
ſtruck me with ſurpriſe, and is admired by
the whole world, as well for its beautiful
architecture as height and magnitude: it
has a grand aweful choir, chapel, a dome
finely
E 3
64
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
were
finely painted by that maſterly hand Sir Ja-
mes Thornhill, a whiſpering gallery, and other
curioſities. I now proceed to acquaint you
with my next excurſion, in ſearch of the
curioſities of this famous city: which was
at Weſtminſter Abbey. This is really a ma-
gnificent ancient building: but what moſt
ſurpriſed me, was the vaſt number of beau-
tiful monuments and figures with which the
inſide is adorned. Among ſuch as
pointed out to me, as being remarkable ei.
ther for their coftlineſs or beauty, I remem.
ber were thoſe of the duke of Newcaſtle, a
magnificent and expenſive piece, Sir Iſaac
Newton, General Stanhope, General Wolfe,
and that exquiſite fatue of Shakeſpeare, which
I am told, is inimitable. When I had for
ſome time enjoyed the pleaſure of gazing
at theſe, I was conducted into that part of
the church where the royal monuments we.
re placed. Theſe, I thought, were exceed.
ing grand. But nothing ſurpriſed and de-
lighted me fo much as King Henry the
VIlth's chapel, which, for beauty and mag.
nificence, I am told, far ſurpaſſes any thing
of that kind in Europe. Here too, I ſaw
the chair in which the kings of England are
crowned, which I believe, is more regarded
for
The Lilliputian Letter-Iriter.
65
for its antiquity, and the honourable uſe
it is aſſigned to, than for any great beauty
it has, at leaſt that I could diſcover.
The next fight that entertained me, was
the effigies of King William and Queen
Mary in wax, as large as the life, ftand-
jpg in their coronation robes: they are ſaid
to be very well done, and to bear a great
reſemblance to the life. Queen Anne, the
Ducheſs of Richmond, the Duke of Buck-
ingham, &c. all of the ſame compoſition,
and richly dreſſed, are there alſo, nor muſt
I forget to mention that of the great late
Earl of Chatham. In ſhort, there are ſo
many curioſities contained in this venerable
repoſitory, that, to deſcribe one half of them
would as far exceed the compaſs of a letter,
as of my abilities to do juſtice to them:
however, I ſhall juſt mention fome which
appeared to me moſt worthy notice.
Among the monuments of our ancient
kings is that of Henry V. whoſe effigy has
loſt its head, which being of filver, I am
told, was ftolen in the civil wars.
Here are two coſtins covered with velvet,
in which are ſaid to be the bodies of two
anibafladors, detained here for debt; but
Et
what
66 The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
1
what were their names, or what princes
they ſerved, I could not learn.
Our guide next ſhowed us the body of
King Henry Vth's queen, Catherine, in an
open coffin, who is ſaid to have been a very
beautiful princeſs; but whoſe ſhrivelled ſkin,
much reſembling diſcoloured parchment,
may now ſerve as a powerful antidote to
that vanity with which frail beauty is apt to
inſpire its pofſefſors.
Among the waxen effigies, I had almoſt
forgotten to mention King Charles II. and
his faithful ſervant General Monk, whoſe fu.
rious aſpect has ſomething terrible in it.
Not far from theſe is the figure of a lady,
one of the maids of honour to Queen Eli.
zabeth, who is ſaid to have bled to death,
by only pricking her finger with a needle.
I muſt now return to thoſe monuments,
which are in the open part of the church,
and free to every one's fight; for thoſe I
have been laſt ſpeaking of are incloſed, and
not to be ſeen without a ſmall gratuity to
the conductor.
Among theſe then, on the north ſide,
ſtands a magnificent monument erected to
Lady Carteret, for whoſe death fome reports
aſliga a cauſe ſomething odd, viz. the late
French
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 67
French king Lewis the XIVth's ſaying, that
a lady, whom one of his nobles compared
to Lady Carteret, was handſomer than fhe.
Near this ſtands a grand monument of
Lord Courcy, with an inſcription, ſignify-
ing that one of his anceſtors had obtained
a privilege of wearing his hat before the
king.
Next theſe follow a groupe of ſtateſmen,
warriors, muſicians, &c. among whom is
Colonel Bingfield, who loſt his head by a
cannon ball, as he was remounting the Duke
of Marlborough, whoſe horſe had been ſhot
under him.
That of the late Admiral Tyrrell is well
worthy of obſervation, though ſome think
it is too much crouded.
The famous muſicians Purcell, Gibbons,
Blow, and Crofts, have their reſpective mo-
numents and infcriptions; as hath alſo that
eminent painter Sir Godfrey Kneller, with
an elegant epitaph by Mr. Pope. As you
enter the weſt door of the church, on the
right hand ſtands a monument with a curi.
ous figure of Secretary Craggs, on whom
likewiſe Mr. Pope has beſtowed a beautiful
epitaph. On the ſouth ſide is a coſtly mo-
nument, erected by Queen Anne to the me-
mory
E 5
63
The Lilliputian Letter-Iriter.
mory of that brave Admiral Sir Cloudſley
Shovel, who was ſhipwrecked on the rocks
of Scilly.
In the ſame aile, and nearly
oppoſite to this, is a beautiful monument
of white marble, to the memory of Tho-
mas Thynne, of Long-Leat, in the county
of Wilts, Efq. who was ſhot in bis coach,
on Sunday the 12th of February, 1682. In
the front is cut the figure of him in his
coach, with thoſe of the three aſſaſſins who
murthered him. At the end of this aile, and
on one ſide of what is called the poets row,
Jies covered with a handſome monument, and
his effigy as large as the life, the very fa-
mous Dr. Buſby, maſter of Weſtminſter
School, whoſe ſtrict diſcipline and ſeverity
were ſo much talked of.
I muſt now take notice of the poets, who-
ſe monuments ſtand moſtly contiguous. Here
are the ancient monuments of Chaucer and
Spencer, with thoſe of Ben Johnſon, Dray.
ton, Milton, and Butler; alſo of the great
Dryden, the ingenious Phillips, the divine
Cowley, the harmonious Prior, and the ini.
mitable Shakeſpeare, of whoſe curious effigy
I have ſpoken before, nor muft I omit the
gentle Mr. John Gay, to whoſe memory his
Grace the Duke of Queenſberry erected a
noble
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 69
noble monument, which Mr. Pope adorned
with a very elegant infcription in verſe. I
muſt here end my remarks, but cannot take
leave of this venerable place without obferv-
ing, that it has many curious painted win-
dows, a noble choir, a fine organ, and a
magnificent altar piece. I am,
Honoured Madam, &c.
L E T T E R IV.
Frem Ariſtus, giving bis Friend a Relation of
the ſudden Death of his Bride, who was ſeized
in the Chapel while the facred Rites were
performing
MY Y fate will furniſh you with a fall evi-
dence of the vanity of human happi-
peſs: My latt letter was written in the height
of ſucceſs, with the moſt arrogant expecta-
tions, and boaſt of a laſting felicity; now
it is all changed, and the ſhadows of night
come over me.
The lovely Ermida, whom I had ſo long
purſued, and at laſt perſuaded to crown my
wiſhes, the very morning the gave me her
hand, before the facred ceremony was finiſh-
ed, was ſurpriſed with the fatal meflage
of
70
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
of death, and carried in a fwoon from the
chapel to her chamber, where ſhe foon ex-
pired in her mother's arms. One hour the
appeared with all the coſt and fplendour of
a youthful bride; the next ſhe was pale and
ſenfeleſs, muffled in a ghaftly ſhroud. Tho.
fe charins, that in the morning promiſed an
eternal bloom, before the evening have drop-
ped their ſmiling pride; the ſparkling eyes
are funk in darkneſs; the foft, the tuneful
voice, is for ever filent; while a livid hue
ſits on the late roſy lips.
Thus airy pleaſure dances in our eyes,
And ſpreads falſe images in fair diſguiſe,
T'allure our ſouls; till juſt within thy arms
The viſion dies and all the painted charms
Flee quick away from the purſuing light,
Till they are loſt in Niades, and mingle with the night.
O death; how cruel was thy triumph!
Youth and beauty, joy and blooming hope,
lie here a victim to thy rage: the darkſo-
me priſon of the grave muſt now confine
the gentle captive; inſtead of the pomp of
a bridal bed, the cold earth muſt be her
lodging, duft and corruption her covering.
You will now expect I fhould practiſe
the principles I have ſo often aſierted, in
exerciſing my boaſted reaſon and moderation;
or
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 70
or leave you to inſult me, with arguments
I lately produced, to allay your grief, un.
der the preſſure of an uncommon misfortu.
ne: this reproach would be but juft, at a
period when heaven has given me a full
evidence of the truths I confefled; and ſet
the vanity of human hopes in the cleareſt
demonſtration before me. One would think
I ſhould now, if ever, find it eaſy to mo-
ralize on theſe ſubjects, and at the philo.
fopher from mere neceſſity, if not from
virtue.
Were the caſe your's, or any body's
but my own, how many wiſe things thould
I repeat! How fluently could I talk! So
much more eaſy is it to diétate than to prac-
tiſe; and yet I am reaſonable by intervals;
I am in more than name a chriſtian; in ſome
bright periods, I feel the force of that
pro.
feflion, and pay homage to its facred rules:
a heavenly ray featters my grief, and cheers
my foul with divine confolations: the gay
and the gloomy appearances of mortal things
vaniſh before the gleams of celeſtial light:
inmortal pleaſures, with gentle invitations,
call me to the ſkies, and all my thoughts
aſcend.
But
72 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
But how ſhort my triumph! how eaſy
the tranſition from reaſon to madneſs! Of
what ſurpriſing variety is a human mind ca-
pable ! light and darkneſs, heaven and hell,
feem blended within; it is all chaos, and
wild diſorder: that reaſon, which one mo-
ment relieves me, the next ſeems with a
juſt train of ideas to torment me.
See there, all pale and dead ſhe liesi
For ever flow my ſtreaming eyes;
Fly Hymen, with extinguiſh'd fires;
Fly nuptial bliſs, and chaſte deſires :
Ermina's fied, the lovelieſt mind.
Faith, ſweetneſs, wit, together join'd.
}
Dwelt faith, and wit, and ſweetneſs there?
Oh! view the change, and drop a tear!
Adieu.
THE
L ETTER V.
Deſcription of the Seven Wonders of the World.
HE firſt of theſe Seven Wonders was
the temple of Epheſus, founded by
Ctefiphon, conſecrated to Diana, and, accord-
ing to the conjectures of natural philofo-
phers, ſituated in a marſhy foil, for no other
reaſon
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
73
canos.
reaſon than that it might not be expoſed to
the violent ſhocks of earthquakes and vol.
This noble ſtructure, which was
425 feet long, and 220 feet broad, had not
its bulk alone to raiſe it above the moſt ſta-
tely monuments of art, ſince it was adorn-
ed with 127 lofty and well-proportioned pil-
lars of Parian marble, each of which had an
opulent monarch for its erector and finiſher:
and ſo high did the ſpirit of emulation run
in this point, that each fucceeding poten-
tate endeavoured to outſtrip his predeceffor
in the richneſs, grandeur; and magnificence
of his reſpective pillar. As it is impoſſible
for a modern to form a juſt and adequate
idea of ſuch a ſtupendous piece of art, it
is ſufficient to inform him, that the rearing
the temple of Epheſus employed ſeveral thou-
ſands of the fineſt workmen in the age for
200 years: but as no building is proof
againſt the ſhocks of time, and the injuries
of the weather, fo the temple of Epheſus
falling into decay, was, by the command
of Alexander the Great, rebuilt by Dinocra-
tes, his own engineer, the fineſt architect
then alive.
The works of the cruel, though ingenious
and enterpriſing Semiramis, next command
our
74
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
our wonder and admiration. Theſe confift:
ed of the walls erected about Babylon, and
the pleaſant gardens formed for her own de.
light. This immenſe, or rather inconceiv.
able profuſion of art and expence, employed
300,000 men for many years ſucceſſively,
ſo that we need not wonder when we are
told by hiſtorians, that theſe walls were
300 or 350 ftadia in circumference, which
amount to 22 Engliſh miles, fifty cubits high,
and fo broad that they could afford room
for two or three coaches a-breaſt without any
danger. Though ancient record gives us no
particular accounts of the gardens, yet we
may reaſonably preſume, that if ſo much
time and treaſure were laid out upon the
walls, the gardens muſt not have remained
without their peculiar beauties: thus it is
more than probable, that the gardens of Se.
miramis charmed the wondering eye with
an unbounded proſpect, conſiſting of regu-
lar viſtas, agreeable avenues, fine parterres,
cool grottos and alcoves, formed for the de-
licious purpoſes of love, philoſophy, retire-
ment, or the gratification of any other paf-
ſion, to which great and good minds are
fubject.
We
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
75
:
We ſhall next take a view of the fplen-
did and fumptuous tomb of Pharos, common-
ly called the Egyptian Labyrinth. This
ſtructure, though deſigned for the interment
of the dead, had nevertheleſs the pomp of
a palace deſigned for a monarch, who
thought he was to live for ever; fince it
contained fixteen magnificent apartments,
correſponding to the ſixteen provinces of
Egypt; and it fo ftruck the fancy of the
celebrated Dedalus, that from it he took the
model of that renowned labyrinth which he
built in Crete, and which has eternized bis
name, for one of the fineſt artiſts in the
world.
If the amazing bulk, the regular form,
and the almoſt inconceivable duration of pub-
lick or monumental buildings call for ſurpri-
fe and aſtoniſhment, we have certainly juſt
reaſon to give the Pyramids of Egypt a place
among the ſeven wonders.
Theſe buildings
remain almoſt as ſtrong and beautiful as ever,
till this very time. There are three of them;
the largeſt of which was erected by Chem-
nis, one of the kings of Egypt, as a mo-
nument of his power while alive, and a re.
ceptacle of his body when dead. It was
ſituated about 16 Engliſh miles from Mem-
phis, now known by the name of Grand
VOL. V.
Cairo,
76
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
Cairo, and was about 1440 feet in height,
and about 145 feet long, on each ſide of the
ſquare bafis.
It was built of hard Arabian
ftones, each of which is about 30 ſeet long.
The building of it is ſaid to have employed
600,000 men for twenty years. Chemnis
however was not interred in this lofty mo-
nument, but was barbarouſly torn to pieces
in a mutiny of his people. Cephus, his bro-
ther, fucceeding him, diſcovered an equal-
ly culpable vanity, and erected another,
though a leſs magnificent pyramid. The
third was built by King Mycernius accord.
ing to ſome, but according to others by the
celebrated courtefan Rhodope. This ſtruc-
ture is rendered ſtill more ſurpriſing, by
having placed upon its top a head of black
marble, 102 feet round the temples, and
about 60 feet from the chin to the crown
of the head.
The next is that celebrated momument of
conjugal love, known by the name of Mau-
foleum, and erected by Artemiſia, queen of
Caria, in honour of her huſband Maufolus,
whom ſhe loved fo tenderly, that, after his
death, ſhe ordered his body to be burnt,
and put its afhes in a cup of wine, and
drank it, that ſhe might lodge the remains
of her huſband as near to her leirt as ſhe
poffi-
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
77
poſſibly could. This ſtructure ſhe enriched
with ſuch a profuſion of art and expence,
that it was juſtly looked upon as one of the
greateſt wonders of the world, and ever
ſince magnificent funeral monuments are cal-
led mauſoleums.
It ſtood in Halicarnafius, capital of the
kingdom of Caria, between the king's pala-
ce, and the temple of Venus. Its breadth
from N. to S. was 63 feet, and in circum-
ference 411, and about 100 feet high. Pyr-
rhus raiſed a pyramid on the top of it, and
placed thereon a marble chariot drawn by
four horſes. The whole was admired by all
who ſaw it, except the philofopher Ana-
xagoras, who, at the fight of it, cried:
"There is a great deal of money changed
into ſtone."
The Sixth of theſe is juſtly accounted the
Coloffus of Rhodes, a ſtatue of fo prodigious
a bulk, that it could not have been believ-
ed, had it not been recorded by the beſt hi.
ſtoriaps. It was made of braſs by one Cha-
res of Aſia Minor, who conſumed 12 years
in finiſhing it. It was erected over the
entry of the harbour of the city, with the
right-foot on one ſide, and the left on the
other. The largeſt ſhips could paſs be-
tween the legs without lowering their mafts.
It
Fan
78 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
It is ſaid to have coſt 44,000 1. Engliſh
money. It was 800 feet in height, and all
its members proportionable; ſo that when
it was thrown down by an earthquake, af-
ter having ſtood 50 years, few men were
able to embrace its little finger. When the
Saracens, who in 637 conquered the iſland,
had broken this immenſe ſtatue to pieces,
they are faid to have loaded above goo ca,
mels with the braſs of it.
The laſt, moſt elegant, and curious of
all theſe works, known by the name of the
Seven Wonders, was the incomparable fta-
tue of Jupiter Olympus, erected by the Eli.
ans, a people of Greece, and placed in a
magnificent temple conſecrated to Jupiter.
This ſtatue repreſented Jupiter ſitting in a
chair, with his upper part naked, but co.
vered down from the girdle, in his right-
hand holding an eagle, and in his left a
fceptre. This ſtatue was made by the ce-
lebrated Phidias, and was 150 cubits high.
The body is ſaid to have been of braſs, and
the head of pure gold. Caligula endeavour-
ed to get it tranſported to Rome, but the
perſons employed in that attempt, were
frightened from their purpoſe by ſome un-
Jucky accident.
LET.
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 79
LETTER VI.
0 72 City L 8 x 14 79 y.
SIR,
I WAS many years reſident in London,
but an old uncle, in the year 1729, dy.
ing, and leaving me a tolerable eſtate in
Glouceſterſhire, I preferred eaſe to affluen-
ce, and retired from noiſe and buſtle, to
peace and quiet.
Anong my friends in town was one Nir.
Holland, a draper, in Cheapfide: he was a
good, honeſt, painstaking man; if you
din-
ed with him, a joint of meat and a pud.
ding was the utmoſt of his entertainment;
I never fuw wine in his houſe but at Chriſt-
mas, or on a wedding-day; we had a glaſs
of good ale, and after dinner we went to
our buſineſs, and did not fit three or four
hours as you do now.
He wore his cap
the greateſt part of the day, and was not
aſhamed to take the broom and the ſcrapet
and clean before his door. He had a good
underſtanding, and was honeſt to a degree
of adıniration: I fear I ſhall never ſee bis
like again: he is dead, poor man; he died
in July 1750, leaving ten thouſand ſeven
hundred pounds, all got by care and induſ-
F 3
try,
80 The Lilliputian Letter-I'riter.
ſtry, between ſeven children, ſhare and
ſhare alike.
Buſineſs, fir, calling me to town this
ſpring, my daughter's marriage, good fir,
if you muſt know, I reſolved to enquire
after my old friend's family: He had three
fons; the eldeſt I found was ruined by hor-
fe racing and went to ſettle at Liſbon; the
next, Tom by name, became a bankrupt in
1760, by vice and extravagance, and went
to America. I got a direction for Jack, a
haberdaſher near the 'Change, I trudged
fee him laſt Wedneſday morning; I aſked
for Mr. John Holland, and, to my very great
furpriſe, was introduced to a gentleman as
a fine as my Lord Cockatoo, and his hair
dreſſed as high and powdered as white; I
begged pardon, and told him, I ſuppoſed
the man had made a miſtake; on which be,
recollecting me, called me by my name, and
run acroſs the room and kiſſed me, the devil
take his French fafhions; he expreſſed great
joy, indeed, at feeing me; and inſiſted on
my dining with him at his houſe in the coun-
try; “My coach, ſaid he, will be at the
door directly, Miſs Pattypan, and her papa,
the great city cook, will favour us with
their company, and you ſhall make one."
Not being engaged, curioſity induced me to
take
The Lilliputian Letter-I'riter. 81
take the ſpare corner of the coach, and go
with them into the country, as they called
it; that is, to Highgate. I will not trou.
ble you with all the particulars of our jour-
ney and dinner, but only tell you, that it
cut nie to the heart to ſee my friend's fon
ſo great a contraſt to his father, On the
road they entertained me with all that paſſed
in publick; they all belonged, I underſtood,
to the city concert, and the allembly; never
failed at Mrs. Thing-a-my's, in Soho-ſquare;
had been at two ridottos this winter; loved
the opera; and Miſs Pattypan fung us an
Italian air; an impudent mynx! I could have
knocked her empty pate againſt her father's
jolter! When we arrived, we were intro-
duced to Madam Holland; how ſhe was dref-
fed in jewels and gold! and then her hair
curled fix inches from her head, God forgi.
ve me if I am miſtaken, but I believe it was
a wig. Then, when the dinner came in,
how was I ainazed to ſee the table cover-
ed with ſeven diſhes, and more fo when I
was told there was a ſecond courſe! The
turbot coft eighteen fhillings, the turkey-
poults fourteen ſhillings, Madam told us;
for ſhe gloried in her ſhame.
I beg pardon, fir, for having detained
you thus long with ſuch trifles, but you
F 4
know
82 Thc Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
know old people will be prating. What I
meant to tell you was our diſcourſe after
dinner. As I came from the country, Mr.
Holland and Mr. Pattypan attacked me on the
high price of proviſions : “An't it a ſhame,
fays Mr. Holland, that we poor Londoners
ſhould be paying ſuch extravagant prices,
when we live in the land of plenty ; poul-
try, meat, and butter, double the price they
were twenty years ago; oats twenty fhil.
lings a quarter, hay three pounds ten ſhil-
lings, it coſts me more in one month than
it did my father in a year. I ſhall, inſtead
of ſaving ten thouſand pounds, be obliged
to run away, if ſomething an't done to re-
duce the price of proviſions.
My blood
boiled with indignation; I haftily replied,
" Whether fomething is done or no, Mr.
Holland, you muſt run away, if you live
thus; do not name your poor father, his ta-
ble would have been furniſhed for a week
for the money your turbot coſt: proviſions
were leſs, you fay, by a half in your fa-
ther's time, but why were they fo? Be-
cauſe people lived with more frugality, and
the conſumption was leſs: a city haberda-
ſher; in thoſe days, would have thought
he had entertained his friends nobly with a
piece of beef and potatoes in the pan; but
I
Tl:e Lilliputian Letter.Ibriter. 83
I fee fourteen diſhes, in theſe luxurious ti-
mes, are ſcarcely ſufficient: if your father,
even in thoſe cheaper times, had furniſhed
his table like the prodigals of the preſent,
he muſt, inſtead of leaving ten thouſand
pounds, have lived and died a beggar; your
father had no country houſe; he had a fay.
ing, that,
« Thoſe who do tivo houſes keep,
“ Muſt often wake when others ſleep.
'Though the verſe is not extraordinary,
the moral is good; he had no coach, the-
refore the price of oats or hay hurt not him;
he neither ſubſcribed to, nor idled his time
at publick allemblies; I may ſay to you,
as the friend in Dan Prior fays to the fat
man, You are making the very evil you
complain of.
In my younger days there
was not a ſhopkeeper in London kept his
coach: now ſcarce one is to be found who
condeſcends to walk; and not only flop.
keepers, but dancing mafters, and fidlers have
their equipages; you houſe a hundred times
as much butter as was uſed formerly, with
your fauces, fricafles, and teas; your va-
nity employs five hundred times the horſes;
you confound more of God's good creatu-
res at one dinner, than would have feaſted
your anceſtors for a month, and yet pre.
tend
F 5
84 The Lilliputian Letter-IPriter.
tend to be amazed that things are not fo
plentiful as they were: the ſame ground
cannot keep cows, grow oats, breed cattle,
produce hay, paſture your horſes, and fup-
ply you with grain; the conſequence of
which is, you fetch your luxuries at great
expence from ſeventy miles diſtance; whe.
reas in our time, ten miles round London
fupplied the town with all neceflaries.” I
was going on, when Mr. Pattypan yawned,
and ſaid, “He did not come here for a lec-
ture;” and before I could anſwer him, Mr.
Jackanapes, the haberdaſher, faid, “Let us
take a turn in the garden, and leave old
Square Toes to ſwallow his ſpittle." I here
grew too angry to ſtay with the empty
coxcombs; I took up my hat and cane, and
marched to the door; when the Paſtry Cook
called out, "You had better go back in Mr.
Holland's coach, for it is too late to walk,
and it will break your frugal heart to ſpend
a ſhilling for a place in the ſtage.” Says
I, "No, Mr. Puff Paſte, though I am an
enemy to profuſion, I ſpend my money as
chearfully as any body when my convenien-
ce requires it. Though I cannot live at the
expence as either of you, I believe I have
eſtate enough to buy all the pies and tapes
in your two ſhops. I mean to live, and
give
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 85
give my children ſomething at my death;
bat you cannot ſupport your profuſion long,
you will be bankrupts foon, and cheat your
creditors out of nineteen ſhillings in the
pound. You will live to feaſt on gravy.beef
inſtead of having fauces, and at laſt die in
a jail or feed hogs, and eat the huſks, like
your brother prodigal in the goſpel.” Here
I flounced out of the room, and fo ended
our ſcolding. I am, fir, yours, &c.
Peter Moderation.
L ETTER VIII.
From Couſin Sam to Couſin Sue.
Couſin Sue,
I
TOLD thee I would write, and ſo I
will, and ſend you all the news about Lon.
don, Well, it is a ſtrange place as ever was
feen, that is for certain! The firſt day I came,
the ſtreets were fo thronged, that I ſtood
up to let folks go by, but there was no
end of them, ſo I was obliged to ſhove on
with the reſt; but I never was ſo bumped
and thruſt about in my life. I put off my
hat to all the gentlefolks, but they only
laugh-
86
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer.
laughed at me; and one queer old put cried,
twig the countryman: ſo I ſmoked the joke,
and put my hat on, and kept him as cloſe
as if he was nailed to my head. John Wit-
liams got me a place to live with a noble.
man, but I was mortally frightened at firſt;
for I thought as how if I ſhould make him
angry I fhould be hanged or beheaded; but
I vow and proteſt he is as civil a ſpoken
gentleman as ever I fee in my life, and has
no more pride than our juſtice of peace, nor
half ſo much neither; and we all love him,
and his buſineſs is the better done for it;
for we ſerve him not through fear, but af-
fection, Sue!
I am hugely improved in my learning
ſince I came to London, and might have
got to be a critic; but Mr. Thomas, my
lord's gentleman, perſuaded me off. There
is a whole club of them meets at the ſign
of the Cat and Bagpipes, juſt by our ſtables,
every week; and our coachman, and Dick
the helper, belongs to them: they will be
mortal great authors if they live; for all
the critical papers and pamphlets they
have a hand in. Poetry and politicks is their
ſtudy, and that is what every body under
ſtands in London. Some poetry of theirs
I
The Liliputian Letter-Writer.
87
I have feut you, and may-hap by and by you
may have fome politicks from,
Your loving Couſin,
SAM.
L E T T E R IX.
From Confin Sam to Coulin Sue.
Loving Couſin,
WHAT I am going to fay will amaze
you, but it is very true; the great
folks here are not half fo wife as I thought
they were; nor indeed are the people in
London a bit better, or honefter, than our
poor neighbours in the country. They ſo
little regard the truth; that ſome of our great
ones will ſend word they are not at home,
though you ſee them; nay, will perhaps look
out at window, and tell you fo themſelves;
and yet they expect nothing but truth from
their ſervants: there's the jeſt. But when
I think upon our old copy, Sue, that “ Evil
communications corrupt good manners,” I
wonder how any of thoſe, who lead diflo-
lute lives, can expect their ſervants to lead
good ones. The great buſineſs of the great,
ones here is to kill time, as they call it;
and
88 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
and the places frequented for this purpoſe
are the Auctions, Plays, Operas, Maſque-
rades, Balls, Affemblies, Routs, Drums, the
Park, the Gardens, and ſometimes the
Church. Ah, Sue! Honeſty's the beſt poli-
cy ſtill: that I know. And if our great peo-
ple would be good, the little people would
be better than they are; for we all copy our
ſuperiors; which is a hint though from a
poor footman, not unworthy the conſidera-
tion of the great ones, and even of the le-
giſlature itſelf.
A few great examples
would make even religion and virtue in fa.
fhion; and what a deal of trouble that would
faye the poor lawyers!
I am,
Dear Couſin Sue,
Yours, 5C.
L ET TER X.
Fr 0912 Couſin Sam to Couſin Sue.
Ah, Couſin Sue!
T is all over at our houſe! We have
nothing but trouble and confuſion: my
lady, who you know was a fine woman,
is
IT
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
89
ton,
is become now an ugly bloated creature,
and has fcrewed up her face ſo a gaming,
that ſhe is as full of wrinkles as Mother Ship-
Cards may well be called the devil's
books! I am ſure they have played the de-
vil with her, and deſtroyed both her tem-
per and conſtitution.--Up a gaming all
night, and the horrours all day, will ſoon
put an end to her life, that's certain. And
my poor maſter is abſolutely undone, all is
loft irrecoverably! He, poor young gentle-
man, has been admitted into the club of a
back of gamblers at this righteous end of
the town, who have ſtripped him of every
thing but his title, and with that he may
go a begging. Oh for a thunder-bolt to de-
ſtroy ſuch a peſt of infernals! And, would
you believe it, Sue, ſome of theſe pillagers .
are great people; fo great, and of ſuch
high employments, that I am told that dis-
patches of the utmoſt confequences are ſent
from *** A fine political ſociety truly!
Suppoſe any of theſe wife ones ſhould take
it into their heads to bet upon the affairs of
Europe; what may, or rather what may
pot, be the conſequence? This is a worſe
club than that where the members ineet to
drink porter, and rectify the writings of
Moſes and the prophets. There are many
things
go The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
things that want mending in London, Sue,
but the people are too infatuated, too full
of themſelves, and too much regard their
own private intereft, to take advice or put
any good ſcheme in execution.
I am,
1.
My dear Sue,
Your ever loving Couſin..
P.S. I was yeſterday ſurpriſed to bear
one of theſe gambling gentlemen lay down
this as a maxim, that he would never be a
good politician who could not play well at
cards; and I think he might with as much
propriety have ſaid, that no one could make
a good general who had not cocked a piſtol.
upon Hounſlow.heath. With what weak ar-
guments is vice obliged to defend itſelf?
L E T T E R XI.
On the Pleaſures and Advantages of Religion.
I HAD lately a very remarkable dream,
which made ſo ſtrong an impreſſion on
me, that I remember it every word; and
if you are not better employed, you may
read the relation of it as follows.
Me-
The Lilliputian Letter- Iriter.
91
Methought I was in the midſt of a very
entertaining ſet of company, and extremely
delighted in attending to a lively converſa-
tion, when on a ſudden I perceived one of
the moſt ſhocking figures imagination can
frame, advancing towards me.
She was
drefled in black, her skin was contracted
into a thouſand wrinkles, her eyes deep funk
in her head, and her complexion pale and
livid as the countenance of death. Her
looks were filled with terrour and unrelent.
ing ſeverity, and her hands armed with
whips and ſcorpions. As ſoon as ſhe came
near, with a horrid frown, and a voice that
chilled my very blood, ſhe bid me follow
her. I obeyed, and the led me through
rugged paths, beſet with briars and thorns,
into a deep folitary valley. Wherever Me
palled the fading verture withered beneath
her ſteps; her peſtilential breath infected the
air with malignant vapours, obſcured the
Juſtre of the ſun, and involved the fair face
of heaven in univerſal gloom. Diſmal how.
lings refounded through the foreſt, from eve.
ry baleful tree; the nightraven uttered his
dreadful note, and the proſpect was filled
with defolation and horrour. In the midſt
of this tremendous ſcene, my execrable gui-
de addreſſed me in the following manner:
VOL. V.
G
“Reti-
92 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
“Retire with me, rafh unthinking mor-
tal, from the vain allurements of a deceit-
ful world, and learn that pleaſure was not
deſigned the portion of buman life. Man
was born to mnourn and to be wretched ;
this is the condition of all below the ffars,
and whoever endeavours to oppoſe it, acts
in contradiction to the will of heaven. Fly
then from the fatal enchantinents of youth
and ſocial delight, and here conſecrate the
folitary hours to lamentation and woe. Mi-
fery is the duty of all ſublunary beings,
and every enjoyment is an offence to the
Deity, who is to be worſhipped only by
the mortification of every ſenſe of pleaſure,
and the everlaſting exerciſe of fighs and
tears. »
I threw my-
This melancholy picture of life quite funk
my fpirits, and ſeemed to annihilate every
principle of joy within me.
ſelf beneath a blaſted yew, where the wind
blew cold and diſmal round my head, and
dreadful apprehenfions chilled my heart.
Here I reſolved to lie, till the hand of death,
which I impatiently invoked, ſhould put an
end to the miſeries of a life fo deplorably
wretched. In this fad ſituation I fpied on
one hand of me a deep muddy river, who-
ſe heavy waves rolled on in flow ſullen mur-
murs.
The Lilliputian Letter-Writer. 93
miils.
Here I determined to plunge, and
was juft upon the brink, when I found my.
felf ſuddenly drawn back. I turned about,
and was ſurpriſed by the fight of the love-
lieſt object I had ever beheld.
The moſt
engaging charms of youth and beauty ap-
peared in all her form; effulgent glories
ſparkled in her eyes, and their awful fplen-
dours were foftened by the gentleſt looks
of compallion and peace. At her approach,
the frightful ſpectre, who had before tor-
mented me, vanilhed away, and with her
all the horrours ſhe had cauſed. The gloo.
my clouds brightened into chearful fun-fhine,
the groves recovered their verdure, and the
whole region looked gay and blooming as
the garden of Eden. I was quite tranſport-
ed at this unexpected change, and reviving
pleaſure began to glad my thoughts, when,
with a look of inexpreſſible fweetneſs, my
beauteous deliverer thus uttered her divine
inſtructions.
“My name is Religion. I am the off-
ſpring of Truth and Love, and the parent of
Benevolence, Hope, and Joy. That mon-
{ter from whoſe power I have freed you,
is called Superſtition; Me is the child of Dis-
content, sud her followers are Fear and
Sorrow. Thus different as we are, the has
G2
often
24 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
often the infolence to aſſume my name and
character, and feduces unhappy mortals to
think us the fame, till fhe, at length, dri-
ves them to the borders of Deſpair, that
dreadful abyſs into which you were juſt go-
ing to ſink.
"Look round and ſurvey the various beau-
ties of the globe, which heaven has deftin-
ed for the ſeat of human race, and confi-
der whether a world thus exquiſitely fram-
ed, could be meant for the abode of miſe-
ry and pain. For what end has the laviſlı
hand of Providence diffuſed ſuch innumera.
ble objects of delight, but that all might
rejoice in the privilege of exiſtence, and be
filled with gratitude to the beneficent Author
of it? Thus to enjoy the bleſſings he has
fept, is virtue and obedience; and to reject
them merely as means of pleaſure, is pitia-
ble ignorance, or abſurd perverſeneſs. In-
finite goodneſs is the fource of created exiſt-
ence; the proper tendency of every rational
being, from the higheſt order of raptured fe-
raphs, to the meaneſt ranks of men, is to
riſe inceſſantly from lower degrees of hap-
pineſs to higher. They have each facul-
ties aſſigned them for various orders of de-
lights."
“What,
The Lilliputian Letter.Writer. 95
“What, cried I, is this the language of
Religion? Does ſhe lead her votaries through
flowery paths, and bid them paſs an unlabo-
rious life? Where are the painful toils of
virtue; the mortifications of penitents, the
ſelf-denying exerciſes of ſaints and heroes?”
"The true enjoyments of a reaſonable be-
ing, anſwered the mildly, do not conſiſt in
unbounded indulgence, or luxurious eare, in
the tumult of paſſions, the languor of indo-
lence, or the flutter of light amuſements.
Yielding to immoral pleafure corrupts the
mind, living an animal and trifling one de.
baſes it; both in their degree diſqualify it
for its genuine good, and conſign it over to
wretchedneſs. Whoever would be really
happy, muſt make the diligent and regular
exerciſe of his fuperior powers his chief at.
tention, adoring the perfections of his Ma-
ker, exprefling good will to his fellow crea-
tures, cultivating inward rectitude. To his
lower faculties he muſt allow fach gratifica-
tions as will, by refreſhing him, invigorate
his nobler purſuits. In the regions inhabit.
ed by angelic natures, unmingled felicity
for ever blooms. Joy flows there with a
perpetual and abundant ſtream, nor needs
there any mound to check its courſe. Being
conſcious of a frame of mind originally dis-
G 3
eaſed
96
The Lilliputian Letter- I'riter.
cure.
And in pro-
eaſed, as all the human race has cauſe to
be, muſt uſe the regimen of a ſtricter ſelf.
government.
Whoever has been guilty of
voluntary excefles muſt patiently ſubmit both
to the painful workings of nature, and need-
ful feverities of medicine, in order to his
Still he is intitled to a moderate ſhare
of whatever alleviating accommodations this
fair manſion of his merciful parent affords,
conſiſtent with his recovery.
portion as this recovery advances, the live.
lieſt joy will ſpring from his ſecret ſenſe of
an amending and improving heart. So far
froin the horrours of deſpair is the condi.
tion even of the guilty. --Shudder, poor
mortal, at the thought of the gulph in
which thou waſt but juſt now going to
plunge.
" While the moſt faulty have ever encou-
ragement to niend, the inore innocent foul
will be ſupported with ſtill ſweeter conſo.
lations under all its experiences of human
infirmities; ſupported by the gladdening af-
furances, that every ſincere endeavour to
out-grow them, ſhall be aſlifted, accepted,
and rewarded. To ſuch a one the lowlieſt
ſelf-abaſement is but a deep laid foundation
for the moſt elevated hopes; ſince they who
faithfully examine and acknowledge what
they
1
The Lilliputian Letter-li'riter. 97
they are, ſhall be enabled, under my con-
duct, to become what they deſire. The
Chriſtian and the hero are inſeparable; and
the aſpirings of unaſſuming truſt, and filial
confidence, are fet no bounds. To him
who is animated with a view of obtaining
approbation from the Sovereign of the Uni.
verſe, no difficulty is infurmountable. Se-
cure in this purſuit of every needful aid, his
conflict with the fevereſt pains and trials, is
little more than the vigorous exerciſes of a
inind in health. His patient dependence on
that Providence which looks through all eter-
nity, his filent reſignation, his ready accom-
modation of his thoughts and behaviour to
its infcrutable ways, is at once the moſt
excellent fort of ſelf-denial, and a fource of
the moſt exalted tranſports. Society is the
true ſphere of human virtue. In focial, ac-
tive life, difficulties will perpetually be met
with; reſtraints of many kinds will be ne-
ceſſary; and ſtudying to behave right in re-
ſpect of theſe is a diſcipline of the human
heart, uſeful to others, and improving itſelf.
Suffering is no duty but where it is neceſa
ſary to avoit guilt, or to do good; nor plea-
fure a crime, but where it ſtrengthens the
influence of bad inclinations, or leflens the
generous activity of virtue. The happineſs
allot.
G 4
98 The Lilliputian Letter-Writer.
allotted to man in his preſent ſtate, is in-
deed faint and low, compared with his im-
mortal proſpects, and noble capacities: but
yet whatever portion of it the diſtributing
hand of heaven offers to each individual, is
à needful ſupport and refreſhment for the
preſent moment, ſo far as it may not hin-
der the attaining his final deſtination.
“Return then with me from continual
mifery to moderate enjoyment, and grateful
alacrity. Return from the contracted views
of folitude, to the proper duties of a relati-
ve and dependent being. Religion is not
confined to cells and cloſets, nor reſtrained
to ſullen retirement. Theſe are the gloo-
my doctrines of Superſtition, by which ſhe
endeavours to break thoſe chains of benevo.
lence and ſocial affection, which link the
welfare of every particular with that of the
whole. Remember that the greateſt honour
you can pay to the Author of your being
is by ſuch a chearful behaviour, as diſcovers
á mind ſatisfied with his diſpenſations.”
Here my preceptreſs pauſed, and I was
going to expreſs my acknowledgments for
her diſcourſe, when a ring of bells from the
neighbouring village, and a new riſing fun,
darting his beams through my windows,
awakened me.
AD-
99
+
5
A D D Ε Ν Τ Α.
NECESSARY
OBSERVATIONS.
First
IRST worſhip God; he that forgets to pray,
Bids not himſelf good-morrow nor good-day;
Let thy firſt labour be to purge thy ſin,
And ſerve him firſt whence all things did begin.
Honour thy parents to prolong chine end;
With them, though for a truth, do not contend;
Tho' all ſuch truth defend, do thou loſe rather
The truth awhile, than loſe their loves for ever.
Whoever makes his father's heart to bleed,
Shall have a child that will revenge the deed,
Think that is juft, 'cis not enough to do,
Unleſs thy very thoughts are upright too.
Defend the truth, for that who would not die,
A coward is, and gives himſelf the lie.
Honour the king, as fons their parents do,
For he's thy father, and thy country's too.
A friend is gold; if true, he'll never leave thee:
Yet both without a touch-ſtone, may deceive thee.
Suſpicious men think others falſe, but he
Cozens himſelf that will too cred'lous be.
Take well whate'er ſhall chance; though bad ic be,
Take it for good, and 'cwill be ſo to chee.
Swear
100
- Swear not; an oath is like a dangerous dart,
Which Ihot, rebounds to ſtrike the thooter's heart.
The law's the path of life; then that obey;
Who keeps it not, hath, wand'ring, lost his way.
Thank thoſe that do thee good, fo ſhalt thou gain
Their ſecond help, if thou ſhould'ſ need again.
To doubtful matters do not headlong run:
What's well left off were better nor begun.
End of the FIFTH VOLUME.
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