1 ■ Iff ftftfcKV Bat liit\ . t I i fcfttJ w& Class _BJEj_2_L£. Book >C ^ D 4- h8 4 i / THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. IN ONE VOLUME. TO WHICH ARE ADDED, THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER ; AND EVERYBODY'S BUSINESS is nobody's BUSINESS. OXFORD: PRINTED BY D. A. TALBOYS, FOR THOMAS TEGG, 73, CHEAPSIDE, LONDON. 1841. THE HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Duncan Campbell, Gentleman, who, tho' Deaf and Dumb, writes down any Stranger's name at first Sight ; with their future Contingencies of Fortune. Now Living In Exeter Court over-against the Savoy in the Strand. Gentem quidem nullam video neque tarn humanam atque doc- tarn ; neque tarn immanem tamque barbaram, quce non signi- ficari futura et a quibusdam intelligi prcedicique posse cen- seat. Cicero de Divinatione, lib. x. LONDON: Printed for E. Curll : And sold by W. Mears and T. Jauncy, without Temple Bar, W. Meadows in Cornhill, A. Bettesworth in Pater-Noster- Row, W. Lewis in Covent Garden and W. Graves in St. James's Street, m.dcc.xx. (Price 5s.) a x 1k TO THE LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF GREAT BRITAIN. I AM not unacquainted, that, ever since this book was first promised by way of advertisement to the world, it was greedily coveted by a great many per- sons of airy tempers, for the same reason that it has been condemned by those of a more formal class, who thought it was calculated partly to introduce a great many new and diverting curiosities in the way of superstition, and partly to divulge the secret intrigues and amours of one part of the sex, to give the other part room to make favourite scandal the subject of their discourse ; and so to make one half of the fair species very merry, over the blushes and the mortifications of the other half. X EPISTLE DEDICATORY. But when they come to read the following sheets, they will find their expectations disappointed, but I hope I may say too, very agreeably disappointed. They will find a much more elegant entertain- ment than they expected. Instead of making them a bill of fare out of patchwork romances of polluting scandal, the good old gentleman who wrote the Adventures of my Life, has made it his business to treat them with a great variety of enter- taining passages, which always terminate in morals that tend to the edification of all readers, of what- soever sex, age, or profession. Instead of seducing young, innocent, unwary minds into the vicious delight which is too often taken in reading the gay and bewitching chimeras of the caballists, and in perusing the enticing fables of new-invented tricks of superstition, my ancient friend, the writer, strikes at the very root of these superstitions, and shows them how they may be satisfied in their se- veral curiosities, by having recourse to me, who by the talent of the second-sight, which he so beau- tifully represents, how nature is so kind frequently to implant in the minds of men born in the same climate with myself, can tell you those things natu- rally, which when you try to learn yourselves, you either run the hazard of being imposed upon in your pockets by cheats, gipsies, and common for- tune-tellers, or else of being imposed upon in a still worse way, in your most lasting welfare, by having recourse to conjurors or enchanters that deal in EPISTLE DEDICATORY. XI black arts, and involve all their consulters in one general partnership of their execrable guilt ; or, lastly, of imposing worst of all upon your own selves, by getting into an itch of practising and trying the little tricks of female superstition, which are often more officiously handed down by the tradition of credulous nurses and old women, from one genera- tion to another, than the first principles of Christian doctrine, which it is their duty to instil early into little children. But I hope when this book comes to be pretty generally read among you ladies, as by your generous and numerous subscriptions I have good reason to expect, that it will afford a perfect remedy and a thorough cure to that distem- per, which first took its rise from too great a growth of curiosity, and too large a stock of credu- lity nursed prejudicially up with you in your more tender and infant years. Whatever young maid hereafter has an innocent but longing desire to know who shall be her hus- band, and what time she shall be married, will, I hope, when she has read the following sheets of a man that can set her right in the knowledge of those points, purely by possessing the gift of the second-sight, sooner have recourse innocently to such a man than use unlawful means to acquire it, such as running to conjurors to have his figure shown in their enchanted glasses, or using any of those traditional superstitions, by which they may dream of their husbands, or cause visionary Xll EPISTLE DEDICATORY, shapes of them to appear on such and such festival nights of the year ; all which practices are not or- dinarily wicked and impious, but downright diabo- lical. I hope that the next 29th of June, which is St. John Baptist's day, I shall not see the several pasture fields adjacent to this metropolis, especially that behind Montague house, thronged, as they were ' the last year, with well dressed young ladies crawling busily up and down upon their knees, as if they were a parcel of weeders, when all the business is to hunt superstitiously after a coal under the root of a plantain, to put under their headst hat night, that they may dream who should be their husbands. In order to shame them out of this silly but guilty practice, I do intend to have some spies out on that day, that shall discover who they are, and what they have been about ; and I here give notice to the public, that this ill-acted comedy, if it be acted at all this year, must begin according to the rule of their superstition, on that day precisely at the hour of twelve. And so much for the pretty weeders. But as you, ladies, have had several ma- gical traditions delivered to you, which, if you put in exercise and practice, will be greatly prejudicial to your honour and your virtue, let me interpose my counsels, which will conduct you innocuously to the same end, which some ladies have laboured to arrive at by these impieties. Give me leave first to tell you, that though what you aim at may be arrived to by these means, yet these means make EPISTLE DEDICATORY. Xlll that a miserable fortune which would have been a good one ; because in order to know human things beforehand, you use preternatural mediums, which destroy the goodness of the courses, which nature herself was taking for you, and annexes to them diabolical influences, which commonly carry along with them fatalities in this world as well as the next. You will therefore give me your pardon like- wise, ladies, if I relate some other of these practices, which bare relation of itself, after what I have said before, seems to me sufficient to explode them. Another of the nurse's prescriptions is this: upon a St. Agnes's night, the 21st day of January, take a row of pins and pull out every one, one after another, saying a Pater Noster, or Our Father, sticking a pin in your sleeve, and you will dream of her you shall marry. Ben Johnson, in one of his masks, makes some mention of this : And on sweet Agnes' night Please you with the promis'd sight, Some of husbands, some of lovers, Which an empty dream discovers. Now what can be more infinitely profane than to use the prayer our Lord instituted in such a way ? There is another prescription, which is as follows : You must lie in another county, and knit the left garter about the right-legged stocking, let the other garter and stocking alone, and as you rehearse these following verses, at every v comma knit a knot : — XIV EPISTLE DEDICATORY. This knot I knit, To know the thing I know not yet, That I may see The man that shall my husband be : How he goes, and what he wears, And what he does all days and years. Accordingly in your dream you will see him : if a musician, with a lute or other instrument ; if a scholar, with a book, &c. Now I appeal to you, ladies, what a ridiculous prescription is this ? But yet as slight a thing as it is, it may be of great importance if it be brought about, because then it must be construed to be done by preternatural means, and and then those words are nothing less than an ap- plication to the devil. Mr. Aubrey, of the Royal Society, says, a gen- tlewoman, that he knew, confessed in his hearing that she used this method, and dreamt of her hus- band whom she had never seen. About two or three years after, as she was one Sunday at church, up pops a young Oxonian in the pulpit ; she cries out presently to her sister, this is the very face of the man I saw in my dream. Sir William Somes's lady did the like. Another way is to charm the moon thus, as the old nurses give out, at the first appearance of the moon, after New-year's-day, some say any other new moon is as good, go out in the evening, and stand over the spars of a gate or stile, looking on EPISTLE DEDICATORY. XV the mooon (here remark that in Yorkshire they kneel on a ground-fast stone) and say, All hail to the moon, all hail to thee, T prithee, good moon, reveal to me This night who my husband shall be. You must presently after go to bed. The aforesaid Mr. Aubrey knew two gentlewomen that did thus when they were young maids, and they had dreams of those that married them. But a great many of the wittiest part of your sex laugh at these common superstitions ; but then they are apt to run into worse : they give themselves up to the reading of the cabalistical systems of sylphs, and gnomes, and mandrakes, which are very wicked and delusive imaginations. I would not have you imagine, ladies, that I im- pute these things as infirmities and frailties peculiar to your sex. No; men, and great men too, and scholars, and even statesmen and princes them- selves have, been tainted with superstitions ; and where they infect the minds of such great person- ages, they make the deeper impression, according to the stronger and more manly ideas they have of them. Their greater degree of strength in the in- tellect only subjects them to greater weaknesses ; such was even the great Paracelsus, the wonder and miracle of learning in the age wherein he lived, and such were are all his followers, scholars, states- men, divines, and princes, that are talismanists. XVI EPISTLE DEDICATORY. These talismans that Paracelsus pretends to owe to the excogitation and invention of honest art, seem to me to be of a very diabolical nature, and to owe their rise to being dedicated by the author to the heathen gods. Thus the cabalists pretending to a vast penetration into arts and sciences, though all their thoughts are chimeras and extravagancies, un- less they be helped by preternatural means, say they have found out the several methods appropri- ated to the several planets. They have appropriated gold to the sun on the Sunday, silver to the moon on the Monday, iron to Mars on the Tuesday, quick- silver to Mercury on the Wednesday, tin to Jupi- ter on the Thursday, copper or brass to Venus on the Friday, and lead to Saturn on the Saturday. The methods they take in forming these talismans are too long to dwell upon here. But the proper- ties which they pretend belong to them are, that the first talisman or seal of the sun will make a man beloved by all princes and potentates, and and cause him to abound with all the riches his heart can wish. The second preserves travellers from danger, and is favourable to merchants, tradesmen, and workmen. The third carries de- struction to any place where it is put ; and it is said that a certain great minister of state ordered one of these to be carried into England in the times of the revolution of government caused by Oliver Cromwell. The fourth they pretend cures fevers and other dieases ; and if it be put under the bol- EPISTLE DEDICATORY. XV11 ster, it makes the proprietor have true dreams, in which he sees all he desires to know. The fifth, according to them, renders a man lucky and fortu.- nate in all his businesses and undertakings. It dissipates melancholy, drives away all importunate cares, and banishes panic fears from the mind. The sixth, by being put into the liquor which any one drinks, reconciles mortal enemies, makes them intimate friends; it gains the love of all women, and renders the proprietor very dexterous in the art of music. The seventh makes women be easily brought to bed without pain ; and if a horse- man carries it in his left boot, himself and his horse become invulnerable. This, Paracelsus and his learned followers say, is owing to the influence of the stars ; but I cannot help arguing these acts of diabolical impiety. But as these arts are rarely known among the middling part of mankind, I shall neither open their myste- ries, nor inveigh againt them any further. The persons who are most to be avoided are your ordinary fortunetelling women and men about this town, whose houses ought to be avoided as a plague or a pestilence, either because they are cheats and impostors, or because they deal with black arts, none of them that I know having any pretensions to the gift of a second-sight. Among many, a few of the most notorious that I can call to mind now, are as follow. The first and chiefest of these mischievous fortunetellers is a woman d. c. b XV1U EPISTLE DEDICATORY. that does not live far from the Old Bailey. And truly the justice hall in that place is the properest place for her to appear at, where, if she was tried for pretending to give charms written upon paper with odd scrawls, which she calls figures, she would be probably convicted, and very justly condemned, and doomed to have her last journey from the Old Bailey to Newgate, and from Newgate to Tyburn. The other is a fellow that lives in Moorfields, in which place those who go to consult him ought to live all their lifetimes, at the famous palaces of the senseless men : he is the successor of the famous Dr. Trotter, whose widow he married ; and from being a tailor and patching men's garments, he now cuts flourishes with his shears upon parchment, considers the heavens as a garment, and from the spangles thereupon he calculates nativities, and sets up for a very profound astrologer. The third is an ignorant fellow that caws out strange predic- tions in Crow-alley, of whose croaking noise I shall here take no notice, he having been sufficiently mauled in the most ingenious Spectators. These and such counterfeits as these, I would desire all gentlemen and ladies to avoid. The only two really learned men that I ever knew in the art of astrology, were my good friends Dr. Williams and Mr. Gadbury ; and I thought it necessary to pay this esteem to their manes, let the world judge of them what it will. I will here say no more, nor hinder you any longer, gentlemen and ladies, from EPISTLE DEDICATORY. XIX the diversion which my good old friend, who is now departed this life, has prepared for you in his book, which a young gentleman of my acquaintance re- vised, and only subscribe myself, Yours, &c. Duncan Campbell. b2 CONTENTS. Page Introduction -------i Chap. I. Mr. Campbell's descent, family, birth, &c, page 7. Also an account of Mr. Archibald Campbell's Travels into Lap- land, where he married a rich lady of that country, who was daughter to the under prefect, or deputy governor of the district of Uma Lapmark ; with some letters from him to his father in the isle of Shetland, in Scotland, particularly one concerning the birth of his son, our present Mr. Duncan Campbell ------ 12 Chap. II. After the death of Mr. Duncan Camp- bell's mother, in Lapland, his father, Mr. Archibald Campbell, returned into Scotland with his little son and family. His second marriage ; and how his son, being born deaf and dumb, was first learned to read and write ------ 25 Chap. III. The method of teaching deaf and dumb persons to write, read, and understand a language 30 XX11 CONTENTS. Page Chap. IV. Young Durcan Campbell returns with his mother to Edinburgh. The earl of Argyle's overthrow. The ruin of Mr. Archibald Campbell, and his death. Young Duncan's practice in prediction at Edin- burgh, while yet a boy - - - - 43 Chap. V. An argument proving the perception which men have had, and have, by all the senses, as seeing, hearing, &c, of demons, genii, or familiar spirits - - - - 61 Chap. VI. A narrative of Mr. Campbell's coming to London, and taking upon him the pro- fession of a predictor ; together with an account of many strange things that came to pass just as he foretold - - - 96 Chap. VII. A philosophical discourse concerning the second-sight - - - - -134 Chap. VIII. A dissertation upon magic under all its branches, with some remarkable par- ticulars relating to Mr. Campbells private life, p. 158. The first objection against the existence of spirits, and the refutations thereof, p. 199. The second objection against the existence of witches - - 206 The Appendix 227 Verses addressed to Mr. Campbell - 247 A Remarkable Passage of an Apparition, 1665 - 257 CONTENTS. XX111 TO WHICH ARE ADDED : THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER : or, Great Britain's Wonder. Containing : I. A faithful and very sur- prising Account how Dickory Cronke, a Tinner's son, in the county of Cornwall, was born Dumb, and con- tinued so for Fifty-eight Years ; and how, some Days before he died, he came to his Speech ; with Memoirs of his Life, and the Manner of his death. II. A De- claration of his Faith and Principles in Religion ; with a Collection of Select Meditations, composed in his Retirement. III. His Prophetical Observations upon the Affairs of Europe, more particularly of Great Britain, from 1720 to 1729. The whole extracted from his Original Papers, and confirmed by unques- tionable Authority. To which is annexed his Elegy, written by a young Cornish Gentleman, of Exeter College, in Oxford, with an Epitaph by another hand. AND, EVERYBODY'S BUSINESS IS NOBODY'S BU- SINESS ; or, Private Abuses, Public Grievances : exemplified in the Pride, Insolence, and exorbitant Wages of our Women-Servants, Footmen, &c. THE HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND SURPRISING ADVENTURES OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. THE INTRODUCTION. Of all the writings delivered in an historical manner to the world, none certainly were ever held in greater esteem than those which give us the lives of distinguished private men at full length ; and, as I may say, to the life. Such curious fragments of biography are the rarities which great men seek after with eager industry, and when found prize them as the chief jewels and ornaments that enrich their libraries, and deservedly; for they are the beauties of the greatest men's lives handed down by way of example or instruction to posterity, and commonly handed down likewise by the greatest men. Since, therefore, persons distinguished for merit in one kind or other are the constant subjects of such discourses, and the most elegant writers of each age have been usually the only authors who choose upon such subjects to employ their pens, and since persons of the highest rank and dignity, and l. d. c. B Z THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES geniuses of the most refined and delicate relish, are frequently curious enough to be the readers of them, and to esteem them the most valuable pieces in a whole collection of learned works ; it is a wonder to me that when any man's life has something in it peculiarly great and remarkable in its kind, it should not move some more skilful writer than my- self to give the public a taste of it, because it must be at least vastly entertaining, if it be not, which is next to impossible, immensely instructive and pro- fitable withal. If ever the life of any man under the sun was re- markable, this Mr. Duncan Campbell's, which I am going to treat upon, is so to a very eminent degree. It affords such variety of incidents, and is accom- panied with such diversity of circumstances that it includes within it what must yield entire satisfaction to the most learned, and admiration to persons of a moderate understanding. The prince and the pea- sant will have their several ends of worthy delight in reading it ; and Mr. Campbell's life is of that extent, that it concerns and collects, as 1 may say, within itself, every station of life in the universe. Besides, there is a demand in almost every page that relates any new act of his, for the finest and closest disquisitions that learning can make upon human nature, to account how those acts could be done by him. For he daily practised, and still practises, those things naturally, which puts art to the rack to find out how nature can so operate in him ; and his fleshly body, by these operations, is a living practical system, or body of new philosophy, which exceeds even all those that have hitherto been compounded by the labour and art of many ages. If one that had speculated deep into abstruse matters, and made it his study not only to know OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 6 how to assign natural reasons for some strange new acts that looked like miracles by being peculiar to the individual genius of some particular admired man, but carrying his inquiry to a much greater height, had speculated likewise what might possibly be achieved by human genius in the full perfection of nature, and had laid it down as a thesis by strong arguments, that such things might be compassed by a human genius, if in its true degree of perfection, as are the hourly operations of the person's life I am writing, he would have been counted a wild ro- mantic enthusiast, instead of a natural philosopher. Some of the wisest would be infidels to so new and so refined a scheme of thinking, and demand expe- riment, or cry it was all against reason, and would not allow the least tittle to be true without it. Yet the man that had found out so great a mystery as to tell us what might be done by human genius, as it is here actually done, would have been a great man within himself; but wanting further experi- mental proof, could lay no claim to the belief of others, or consequently to their esteem ; but how great, then, is the man, who makes it constantly his practice actually to do what would not otherwise have been thought to be of such a nature as might ever be acquired by mortal capacity, though in its full complement of all possible perfection ? He is not only great within himself, he is great to the world ; his experiments force our belief, and the amazing singularity of those experiments provokes both our wonder and esteem. If any learned man should have advanced this proposition, that mere human art could give to the deaf man what should be equal to his hearing, and to the dumb man an equivalent for his want of speech, so that he should converse as freely almost as other hearing or talking persons, that he might, b2 4 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES though born deaf, be by art taught how to read, write, and understand any language, as well as students that have their hearing, would not the world, and many even of the learned part of it, say, that nothing could be more extravagantly wild, more mad and frantic? The learned Dr. Wallis, geometry professor of Oxford, did first of all lay down this proposition, and was counted by many to have overshot the point of learning, and to have been the author of a whimsical thesis. And I should not have wondered if, after a man's having asserted this might be done before it was actually done, some blind devout people in those days had accused him of heresy, and of attributing to men a power of working miracles. The notion of the antipodes was by the most learned men of the age in which St. Augustin lived, and by the great St. Austin himself, treated in no milder a manner ; yet if the ability of teaching the deaf and the dumb a language, proved a truth in experience afterwards, ought not those to turn their contempt into admira- tion ? ought not those very people to vote him into the Royal Society for laying down this propo- sition, who, before it proved true in fact, would have been very forward to have sent him to Bedlam? The first instance of this accomplishment in a dumb person was proved before king Charles II. by this same Dr. Wallis, who was a fellow of the Royal Society, and one of the most ingenious of that so- ciety. But notwithstanding this, should I come after- wards and say that there is now living a deaf and dumb man, and born so, who could, by dint of his own genius teach all others deaf and dumb to read, write, and converse with the talking and hearing part of mankind, some would, I warrant, very reli- giously conclude that I was about to introduce some OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. O strange new miracle-monger and impostor into the world, with a design of setting up some new sect of antichristianism, as formidable as that of the Brah- mins. Should I proceed still further, and say that this same person so deaf and dumb might be able also to show a presaging power, or kind of prophet- ical genius, if I may be allowed the expression, by telling any strange persons he never saw before in his life, their names at first sight in writing, and by telling them the past actions of their lives, and predicting to them determined truths of future contingences ; notwithstanding what divines say, that Infuturis contingentibus noil datur determinata Veritas, would not they conclude that I was going to usher in a new Mahomet? Since, therefore, there does exist such a man in London, who actually is deaf and dumb, and was born so, who does write and read, and converse, as well as anybody, who teaches others deaf and dumb to write and read, and converse with anybody, who likewise can, by a presaging gift, set down in writing the name of any stranger at first sight, tell him his past actions, and predict his future occurrences in fortune, and since he has practised this talent as a profession with great success, for a long series of years, upon innu- merable persons in every state and vocation of life, from the peeress to the waiting- woman, and from the lady mayoress to the milliner and sempstress, will it not be wonderfully entertaining to give the world a perfect history of this so singular a man's life ? And while we are relating the pleasant ad- ventures with such prodigious variety, can anything be more agreeably instructive in a new way, than to intersperse the reasons, and account for the manner, how nature, having a mind to be remarkable, per- forms by him acts so mysterious. I have premised this introduction, compounded 6 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES of the merry and the serious, with the hopes of en- gaging many curious people of all sorts to be my readers, even from the airy nice peruser of novels and romances, neatly bound and finely gilt, to the grave philosopher that is daily thumbing over the musty and tattered pieces of more solid antiquity. I have all the wonders to tell that such a merry kind of a prophet has told, to entertain the fancies of the first gay tribe, by which means I may entice them into some solid knowledge and judgment of human nature ; and I have several solid disquisitions of learning to make, accounting for the manner of these mysterious operations, never touched upon before, in due form and order, by the hands of the ancient or modern sages, that I may bribe the judgment of this last grave class so far as to endure the intermixing of entertainment with their severer studies. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. CHAP. I. Mr. CampbelVs descent, family, birth, Sfc. Of the goodness and antiquity of the name and family of this gentleman, nobody can ever make any question ; he is a Campbell lineally descended from the house of Argyle, and bears a distant relation to the present duke of that name in Scotland, and who is now constituted a duke of England, by the style and title of the duke of Greenwich. It happens frequently that the birth of extra- ordinary persons is so long disputed by different people, each claiming him for their own, that the real place where he first took breath grows at last dubious ; and thus it fares with the person who is the subject of the following sheets ; as there- fore it is my proposal to have a strict regard to historical faith, so am I obliged to tell the reader that I can with no certainty give an account of him till after he was three years old ; from which age I knew him, even to this day ; I will answer for the truths which I impart to the public during that time, and as for his birth and the circumstances of it, and how the first three years of his life passed, I can only deliver them the same account I have received from others, and leave them to their own judgments whether it ought to be deemed real or fabulous. The father of our Mr. Duncan Campbell, as these relate the story, was from his infancy of a very curious inquisitive nature, and of an enterprising 8 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES genius, and if he heard of anything surprising to be seen, the difficulty in practice was enough to re- commend to him the attempting to get a sight of it at any rate or any hazard. It is certain, that during some civil broils and troubles in Scotland, the grandfather of our Mr. Campbell was driven with his wife and family, by the fate of war, into the isle of Shetland, where he lived many years ; and dur- ing his residence there, Mr. Archibald Campbell, the father of our Duncan Campbell, was born. Shetland lies north-east from Orkney, between sixty and sixty-one degrees of latitude. The largest isle of Shetland, by the natives called the Mainland, is sixty miles in length from south-west to the north- east, and from sixteen, to one mile, in breadth. The people who live in the smaller isles have abundance of eggs and fowl, which contributes to maintain their families during the summer. The ordinary folks are mostly very nimble and active in climbing the rocks in quest of those eggs and fowl. This exercise is far more diverting than hunting and hawking among us, and would cer- tainly for the pleasure of it, be followed by people of greater distinction, was it not attended with very great dangers, sufficient to turn sport into sorrow, and which have often proved fatal to those who too eagerly pursue their game. Mr. Archibald Camp- bell, however, delighted extremely in this way of fowling, and used to condescend to mix with the common people for company, because none of the youths of his rank and condition were venturesome enough to go along with him. The most remarkable experiment of this sort, is at the isle called the Noss of Brassah : the Noss standing at sixteen fathom distance from the side of the opposite Main ; the higher and lower rocks have two stakes fastened in each of them, and to OP MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. y these there are ropes tied ; upon the ropes there is an engine hung which they call a cradle, and in this a man makes his way over from the greater to the smaller rocks, where he makes a considerable purchase of eggs and fowl ; but his return being by an ascent, makes it the more dangerous, though those on the great rock have a rope tied to the cradle, by which they draw it and the man safe over for the most part. Over this rock Mr. Archi- bald Campbell and five others were in that manner let down by cradles and ropes ; but before they could be all drawn back again it grew dark, and their associates not daring to be benighted, were forced to withdraw, and Mr. Campbell was the un- fortunate person left behind, having wandered too far, and not minded how the day declined, being intent on his game. He passed that night, you may easily guess, without much sleep, and with great anxiety of heart. The night, too, as he lay in the open air, was, to add to his misfortune, as boi- sterous and tempestuous as his own mind ; but in the end the tempest proved very happy for him. The reader is to understand that the Hamburghers, Bremeners, and Hollanders, carry on a great fish trade there. Accordingly, a Holland vessel, that was just coming in the sound of Brassah, was by this tempest driven into a creek of the rock, which nature had made into a harbour, and they were providentially saved from the bottom of the sea by a rock, from which, humanly speaking, they could expect nothing but destruction, and being sent to the bottom of that sea. As never could a man be taken hold of with so sudden and surprising a dis- aster, so nobody could meet with a more sudden and surprising relief than Mr. Campbell found when he saw a ship so near. He made to the ves- sel, and begged the Hollanders to take him in; 10 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES they asked him what he would give them, or, said the barbarous sailors, we will even leave you where you are ; he told them his disaster, but they asked money, and nothing else would move them : as he knew them a self-interested people, he bethought himself, that if he should tell them of the plenty of fowls and eggs they would get there, he might not only be taken in a passenger, but made a partner in the money arising from the stock ; it succeeded accordingly : when he proposed it, the whole crew were all at work, and, in four hours, pretty well stored the vessel, and then, returning on board, set sail for Holland. They offered Mr. Campbell to put him in at his own island ; but having a mind to see Holland, and being a partner, to learn their way of merchandize, which he thought he might turn to his countrymen's advantage, he told them he would go the voyage out with them, and see the country of those who were his deliverers ; a neces- sary way of speech, when one has a design to sooth barbarians, who, but for interest, would have left him unredeemed, and, for aught they knew, a per- petual sole inhabitant of a dreadful rock, encom- passed round with precipices, some three hundred fathom high. Not so the islanders, who are wrongly called a savage set of mortals; no, they came in quest of him after so bitter a night, not doubt- ing to find him, but fearing to find him in a la- mentable condition ; they hunted and ransacked every little hole and corner in the rock, but all in vain. In one place they saw a great slaughter of fowls, enough to serve forty families for a week ; and then they guessed, though they had not the ill fortune to meet the eagles frequently noted to hover about those isles, that they might have de- voured part of him on some precipice of the rock, and dropped the remnant into the sea. Night OP MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 1 1 came upon them, and they were afraid of falling into the same disaster they went to relieve Mr. Campbell from. They returned each to their pro- per basket, and were drawn up safe by their respec- tive friends, who were amazed that one basket was drawn up empty which was let down for Mr. Campbell, and that there was not the least intelli- gence to be had concerning him, but the supposi- tious story of his having been devoured by eagles. The story was told at home ; and with the lament- ation of the whole family, and all his friends ; he was looked upon to be murdered or dead. Return we now to Mr. Archibald Campbell, still alive, and on board the Holland vessel ; secure as he thought within himself, that from the delivery he lately had by the gift of Providence, he was not in- tended to be liable to any more misfortunes and dangers of life, in the compass of so small a voyage. But his lot was placed otherwise in the book of fate, than he too fondly imagined ; his time of happiness was dated some pages lower down, and more rubs and difficulties were to be encountered with, before his stars intended to lead him to the port of felicity. Just as he arrived within sight of Amsterdam, a terrible storm arose, and, in danger of their lives, for many hours, they weathered out the tempest ; and a calm promising fair afresh, they made to the coast of Zealand ; but a new hurricane prevented the ship from coming there also ; and after having lost their masts and rigging, they were driven into Lapland. There they went ashore in order to careen and repair their ship, and take in provisions ; while the ship was repairing by the Dutch, our islander made merry with the inhabitants, being the most in- clined to their superstitious customs ; he there be- came acquainted with a very beautiful woman, who fell in love with him, and after a very short space 12 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES of time he married her. About the time when the ship departed, his wife, who was very rich, was big with child of a son, namely, Mr. Duncan Campbell. He wrote a letter by the master of the vessel to his parents in Shetland, concerning the various ad- ventures he had met with, which was delivered the June following, about the time of fishing, to his parents, and several persons had copies thereof, and, for aught I know, some retain them to this very day ; sure I am that many remember the par- ticulars of this surprising affair, who are now living in that island. The letter being very remarkable and singular in all its circumstances, I shall present it to the reader word for word, as it was given into my hands, to- gether with some others which he wrote afterwards, in all which I am assured by very credible persons, and undoubted authorities, there are not the least alterations, but what the version of it from the then Scotch manner of expression into a more modern English dress, made absolutely necessary. My dearest Father, The same odd variety of accident, which put it out of my power to be personally present with you for so long a time, put it likewise out of my power to write to you. At last fortune has so ordered it, that I can send a letter to you before I can come myself, and it is written expressly to tell you the adventures I have met with, which have detained me this tedious space of time from my dear father, and because the same captain of a ship that brings you this, might as easily have brought your son to speak for himself. I shall in the next place lay before you the necessity there is for my stay a little longer among the strange natives of the country OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 13 where I now inhabit, and where I am, in a manner, become naturalized. You have, no doubt of it, been informed by my companions, some of whom I hope got safe back again, if not all, that I was lost, where many a brave man has perished before me, by going over the high precipices of the mountain Brassah, in a basket, sliding down by a rope. I must suppose I have given you the anguish of a father for a son, who you thought had lost his life by such a foolhardy attempt, and I implore your pardon with all the power of filial contrition, penitence, and duty. You have always showed me such singular marks of paternal affection, that I know your receipt of this letter will fill your heart with joy, and cause you to sign me an absolution and free pardon for all the errors I have committed, and think the sufferings I have undergone for my rashness and indiscretion, a sufficient atonement for my crime of making you, by my undutifulness, a partner of my sorrows. To free you the more from this uneasiness, I know I need only tell you, that every grief of mine is gone excepting one, which is, that I must still lose the pleasure of seeing you a little longer. There was never surely a more bitter night than that which must by me be for ever remembered, when I was lost in the mountain of Brassah, where I must, for aught I know, have lived for ever a wild single in- habitant, but that the storm which made the night so uneasy to me, rendered the first approach of day- light, beyond measure, delightful. The first provi- dential glimpse of the morning gave me a view of a ship driven by the tempest into a creek of the rock, that was by nature formed like a harbour ; a mira- culous security of deliverance, as I thought, both for the ship's crew and myself. I made all the haste I could, you may be sure, to them, and I 14 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES found them to be Dutchmen that were come for fish ; but in, lieu of fish I instructed them to load it with eggs and fowl, which we compassed very happily in a short space of time, and I was to be a sharer with the captain in the lading, and bar- gained to go for Holland, to see the sale, and the nature of traffick ; but when we were at sea, after much bad weather, we made towards Zealand, but we were driven upon the coast of Finland by a new storm, and thence into Lapland, where I now am, and from whence I send you this letter. I could not come into a place so properly named for my reception ; as I had been un dutiful to you, and fortune seemed to make me an exile, or a banished man, by way of punishment for the vices of my youth ; so Lapland (which is a word originally derived from the Finland word lappi, that is, exiles, and from the Swedish word lap, signifying banished, from which two kingdoms most of our inhabitants were banished hither, for not embracing the Chris- tian religion) was certainly the properest country in the world to receive me. When first I entered this country, I thought I was got into quite another world ; the men are all of them pigmies to our tall, brawny Highlanders ; they are, generally speaking, not above three cubits high, insomuch that though the whole country of Lapland is immensely large, and I have heard it reckoned by the inhabitants to be above a hundred German leagues in length, and fourscore and ten in breadth, yet I was the tallest man there, and looked upon as a giant. The district in which I live now, is called Uma Lapmark. You must under- stand, sir, that when I landed at North Cape, in Kimi Lapmark, another district of Lapland, there was at that time a most beautiful lady come to see a sick relation of her father's, who was prefect, or gover- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMFBELL. 15 nor of Uma Lapmark, which is a post of great dis- tinction. This lady, by being frequently in the com- pany of French merchants, who traffick now and then in that province of Uma Lapmark, understood French, and having heard of a man six foot and a half high, desired to see me, and when I came, she happened mightly to like my person ; and she talked French, which when I answered, she made great signs of joy, that she could communicate her sentiments to me, and she told me who she was, how rich, and that not one in the company besides could understand a syllable we said, and so I might speak my mind freely to her ; she told me the customs of the country, that it was divided into cantons, like our shires, and those cantons into rekars, or certain grounds allotted to families, that are just like our clans. As she was beyond measure beautiful, she was extremely good humoured, a thing rarely to be met among Lapland women, of a better stature than her country women, and very rich, and of good birth ; I thought it would be a prodigious turn of fortune, for a man in my circumstances, if I could make any progress in her heart, which she seemed a little to open to me, in such a manner, for the beginning, as if such a successful event, if managed with prudence, might not be despaired off. Souls that are generous are apt to love, and compassion is the best introducer of love into a generous bosom, and that was the best stock I had to go upon in my courtship; I told her of all my calamities, my dangers, and my escapes ; the goodness of my birth, as being allied to one of the greatest nobles in our island ; and still she would ask me to tell it her over again, though every time I told it, just at such and such passages, she was forced to drop the tears from her eyes. In fine, I grew more in love with her, more out of a sense of gratitude now, than by the power of J 6 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES her charms before ; the matter in a few days went so far, that she owned to me I had her heart. As to marriage, I did not then know the custom of the nation ; I thought that if it proved only dangerous to me, I loved her so well that I intended to marry her, though the law was to pronounce me dead for it ; but I did not know whether it might not be pe- rilous for her too, to engage in such a state with me, and I resolved in that case, rather to be singly un- happy, than to involve her in distress, and make her the fair companion of my woes. I would not tell her so, for fear she should out of love hide from me those dangers, and therefore using a kind sort of dissimulation, I conjured her to tell me the laws and customs of marriages in that country to a tittle, and that nothing should hinder us from happiness. She told me exactly, as I find since. Our marriage, said she, will be very hard to compass ; provided we follow the strict rule of the country. For our women here, are bound not to see the man who makes their addresses to them, in some time. His way of courtship is to come to the parents, and his nearest friends and relations must make her father presents, and supplicate him like a king, to grant him his daughter. The courtship often lasts two or three years, and sometimes has not its effect at last ; but if it has, the woman is dragged by her father and brother to church, as unwilling to go to be married, which is looked upon as a greater part of modesty in her, according to the greater disinclination she shows. My father and brother, said she, will both be against it ; you have no relations in this country to move your suit, I cannot be so hypocritical as to be dragged unwillingly to him I own I desire for my lawful husband, and therefore, as I have an in- clination to you, and I dare own I have, I will not follow those methods which I disapprove. I have OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 17 talked with several Swedes, and several polite Frenchmen, about their manner of espousals, and I am told, that when souls are naturally united by affection, the couple so mutally and reciprocally loving, though they had rather have their parents' leave if likely to be got, yet, unwilling to be disap- pointed, only go to the next minister's and marry for better for worse. This way I approve of, for where two persons naturally love each other, the rest is nothing but a modest restraint to their wishes, and since it is only custom, my own reason teaches me there is no error committed, nor any harm done in breaking through it upon so commendable an occasion. I have, added she, a thousand rein deer belonging to me, beyond my father's power of taking away, and a third share in a rekar or clan, that is ten leagues in compass, in the byar or canton of Uma Lapmark. This is at my own disposal, and it is all your own, if you please to accept of it with me. Our women are very coy, when they are courted, though they have never so much an inclination to their suitor ; but good reason and the commerce I have had with persons of politer nations than ours is, teach me that this proceeds entirely from vanity and affectation, and the greatest proof of a woman's modesty, chastity, and sincerity, certainly consists, contrary to the general corrupted opinion, in yield- ing up herself soon into the arms of the man she loves. For she that can dally with a heart she prizes, can give away her heart, when she is once balked, to any man, even though she dislikes him. You must judge, my dear father, I must be touched with a woman that was exceeding beautiful, beyond any of her nation, and who had thoughts as beauti- ful as her person. I therefore was all in rapture, and longed for the matrimony, but still loved her enough to propose the question, I resolved, to her, L. D. C. C 18 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES viz., if it would not be in her nation accounted a clandestine marriage, and prove of great damage to her. To this she answered with all the wisdom which could be expected from a woman who had given such eminent tokens of her judgment on other points, amidst a nation so barbarous in its manners, and so corrupt in its principles, as Lapland is. I am, said she, answerable to my father, for nothing by our laws, having no portion of him, but only what was presented me by my relations at my birth, ac- cording to custom, in lands and rein deer. My father is but deputy governor, it is a Swede who is the governor of Uma ; and if I pay to him at every mart and fair the due tribute, which must either consist of fifty rein deer, or a hundred and fifty rixdollars, he will have the priest that marries us present at the court of justice, according to our custom, and keep us in possession of our rights, that we may be enabled to pay tribute to the crown of Sweden. Indeed, before the abolition of the Bir- karti, which were our native judges, we could not have married thus without danger to us both ; but now there is none at all. My dear father, you must easily imagine that I could not help embracing with all tenderness so dear and so lovely a woman. In fine, I am married to her, I have lived very happily hitherto, and am now grown more happy, for she is big with child ; and like, before my letter comes to your hands, to make you a grandfather of a pretty boy. You will perhaps wonder that I name the sex of the child before it comes into the world, but we have a way in Lapland of finding that out, which though some judicious people call superstitious, I am really per- suaded of by experience, and therefore I indulged my dear wife's curiosity, when she signified to me OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 19 she had a mind to make the usual trial, whether the child she was going to be delivered of would be a boy or a girl. You must understand, my dear father, the people here judge of the sex of the child by the moon, unto which they compare a big-bellied woman. If they see a star appear just above the moon, it is a sign it will be a boy, but, if the star be just below the moon, they conjecture her to be big with a girl. This observation and remark of Laplanders has, I know, been accounted by some, and those wise and judicious men too, to be ridiculously superstitious ; but I have been led into an easy belief of this mystery, by a mistress that is superior to wisdom itself, constant, and therefore probably infallible, ex- perience. I therefore indulged my wife in this her request, and went with her to the ceremony; the star appeared above the moon, which prognosticates a boy, which I wish may, and I scarce doubt will, prove true, and when she is brought to bed I will send you word of it. It is remarkable, likewise, that a star was seen just before the moon, which we also count a very good omen. For it is a custom like- wise here in Lapland, to consult the moon, as an oracle about the health and vigour of the child. If a star be seen just before the moon, we count it a sign of a lusty and well grown child, without blemish ; if a star comes just after, we reckon it a token that the child will have some defect or deformity, or die soon after it is born. Having thus told you the manners of the coun- try I live in at present, as much at large as the space of a letter will permit, and related to you my own happy circumstances, and the kindly promises of the heavens that are ushering in the birth of my child, I would not have you think that I addict my- self to the superstitions of the country, which are c 2 20 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES very many and groundless ; and arising partly from the remainder of pagan worship, which is still cul- tivated among some of the more obstinate inhabi- tants. I have, on the contrary, since I married her, endeavoured to repay my wife's temporal bless- ings to me with those that are endless, instructed her in all the points of religion, and made her per- fectly a Christian ; and she, by her devotion and prayers for me, makes me such amends for it, that I hope in us two St. Paul's saying will be verified, viz., That the woman shall be sanctified in her husband, and the husband shall be sanctified in his wife. However, I must take notice in this place, with all clue deference to Christianity, that though I am obliged to applaud the prudence and piety of Charles the IX. of Sweden, who constituting Swedish go- vernors over this country, abrogated their practice of superstitions, and art magic, upon pain of death ; yet that king carried the point too far, and inter- mingled with these arts, the pretensions to the gift of a second-sight, which you know how frequent it is with us in Scotland, and which I assure you, my wife (though she durst not publicly own it, for fear of incurring the penalty of those Swedish laws) does as it were inherit (for all her ancestors before her have had it from time immemorial) to a greater degree than ever I knew any of our countrywomen or countrymen. One day this last week she distracted me between the extremes of joy and sorrow. She told me I should see you shortly, and that my coming son would grow to be one of the most remarkable men in England and Scotland, for his power of foresight ; but that I should speedily lose her, and meet with difficulties in my own country, in the same manner as my father, meaning you, sir, had done before OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 21 me, and on the same account, viz., of civil broils, and intestine wars in Scotland. These unfortunate parts of her relation I would not conceal from you, because the veracity of her notions should appear, if they are true, though you may be sure I much wish they all may prove false to the very last ; excepting that wherein she tells me, my son will be greatly remarkable, and that I shall shortly see my dear father, which I daily long for, and will endeavour to do as soon as possible. Pray remember me to all friends ; being, Honoured sir, Your most dutiful and loving son, Archibald Campbell. THE SECOND LETTER. I am now the happiest man alive ; the prosper- ous part of my wife's predictions, which I men- tioned to you in my last, is come in some measure to pass. The child she has brought me proves a boy, and as fine a one as I ever beheld, (if fond ness for my own makes me not blind) ; and sure it cannot be fondness, because other plain circum- stances joined at his birth to prove it a more than ordinary remarkable one. He was born with a cawl upon his head, which we count one of the luckiest signs that can be in nature ; he had likewise three teeth ready cut through the gums, and we reckon that an undeniable testimony and promise given to the world by nature, that she intends such a person for her extraordinary favourite, and that he is born for great things, which I daily beg of heaven may come to pass. Since I have known for some months what it is to be a father, it adds a considerable weight to 22 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES those affections which I had for my wife. I thought that my tenderness for her was at the height of perfection before ; which shows how little we know of those parts of nature that we have yet never tried, and of which we have not yet been allotted our share to act upon the stage of life. I find that I did love her then as well as a husband could love a wife, that is, a wife without a child ; but the love to a wife that has a child, is a feeling wonderful and inexpressibly different. A child is the seal and the pledge of love. Meditating upon this, has likewise doubled my affection to you. I loved you before, as a son, and because as such, I felt your tenderness ; but my love is much increased now, because I know the tenderness which you felt for me as a father. With these pleasing images of thought, I often keep you nearer company at this vast distance, than when I lived irregularly under your eye. These re- flections render a solitary life dear to me. And though I have no manner of acquaintance with her relations, who hate me, as I am told, nor indeed with almost any of the inhabitants, but my own do- mestics, and those I am forced to deal with, yet I have as much methinks, as I wish for, unless I could come over to Shetland and live with you, which I the more ardently desire, because I think I and my wife could be true comforts to you, in your ad- vanced years ; now I know what living truly is. I am daily persuading my wife to go with me ; but she denies me with kind expressions, and says, she owes too much to the place, however less pleasant in itself than other climates, where she had the happi- ness of first joining hands with me in wedlock, ever to part from it. But I must explain how I ask, and how she refuses. I resolved never directly and down- rightly to ask her, because I know she can refuse me nothing ; and that would be bearing hard upon the OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPEELL. 23 goodness of her will. But my way of persuading her consists in endeavouring to make her in love with the place, by agreeable descriptions of it, and likewise of the humane temper of the people ; so that I shortly shall induce her to signify to me that it is her own will to come with me, and then I shall seem rather to consent to her will, than to have moved it over to my own. These hopes I have of seeing my dear father very shortly, and I know such news would make this letter, which I therefore send, more acceptable to him, to whom I will be, A most dutiful and affectionate son, till death, Archibald Campbell. P. S. If I cannot bring my wife to change this country for another, I have brought her to that pitch of devotion, that whenever Providence, which, not- withstanding her predictions, I hope will be long yet, shall call her to change this world for another, it will be happy with her there ; she joins with me in begging your blessing to me, herself, and our little Duncan, whom we christened so, out of re- spect to the name you bear. the third letter. My dear Father, I am lost in grief; I had just brought my wife (her that was my wife, for I have none now, I have lost all joy) in the mind of coming over to be a comfort to you. But now grief will let me say no more, than that I am coming to beg comfort from you, and by this I prepare you to receive, when he comes, a son in tears and mourning. Archibald Campbell. 24 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES P. S. I have a babe not much above two years old, must bear the hardships of travelling over the ice, and all through Muscovy, for no ships can stir here for many months, and I cannot bear to live in this inhospitable place, where she died that only could make it easy to me, one moment beyond the first opportunity I have of leaving it. She is in heaven, that should make me easy ; but I cannot, I am not so good a Christian as she was ; I am lost and ruined. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 25 CHAP. II. After the death of Mr. Duncan Campbell's mother in Lapland, his father, Archibald, returned with his son to Scotland. His second marriage, and how his son ivas taught to write and read. Mr. Archibald Campbell, having buried his Lapland lady, returned to Scotland, and brought over with him his son Mr. Duncan Campbell. By that time he had been a year in his own country he married a second wife ; a lady whom I had known very well for some years, and then I first saw the boy ; but, as they went into the western is- lands, I saw them not again in three years. She being, quite contrary to the cruel way much in use among stepmothers, very fond of the boy, was ac- customed to say, she did, and would always think him her own son. The child came to be about four years of age, as she has related to me the story since, and not able to speak one word, nor to hear any noise ; the father of him used to be mightily oppressed with grief, and complain heavily to his new wife, who was no less perplexed, that a boy so pretty, the son of so particular a woman, which he had made his wife, by strange accidents and adven- tures, and a child coming into the world with so many amazing circumstances attending his birth, should lose those precious senses by which alone the social commerce of mankind is upheld and maintained, and that he should be deprived of all advantages of education, which could raise him to the character of being the great man that so many 26 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES concurring incidents at his nativity promised and betokened he would be. One day, a learned divine, who was of the uni- versity of Glasgow, but had visited Oxford, and been acquainted with the chief men of science there, happening to be in conversation with the mother-in- law of this child, she related to him her son's mis- fortunes, with so many marks of sorrow, that she moved the good old gentleman's compassion, and excited in him a desire to give her what relief and consolation he could in this unhappy case. His particular inclination to do her good offices, made him recollect, that, at the time he was at Oxford, he i had been in company with one doctor Wallis, a man famous for learning, who had told him that he had taught a born deaf and dumb man to write, and to read, and even to utter some sounds articulately with his mouth ; and that he told him he was then going to commit to print the method he made use of in so instructing that person, that others, in the like unfortunate condition might receive the same benefits and advantages from other masters, which his deaf and dumb pupil had received from him. A i£ dumb man recovering his speech, or a blind man gaining his sight, or a deaf one getting his hearing, could not be more overjoyed than Mrs. Campbell was at these unexpected tidings, and she wept for gladness when he told it. The good gentleman animated and encouraged her with the kindest pro- mises, and to keep alive her hopes, assured her he would send to one of the chief booksellers in London to inquire after the book, who would certainly pro- cure it him if it was to be got, and that afterwards he would peruse it diligently, make himself master of doctor Wallis's method, and though he had many great works upon his hands at that time, he would steal from his other studies leisure enough to OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 27 complete so charitable an office, as teaching the dumb and deaf to read and to write, and give her son, who was by nature deprived of them, the ad- vantages of speech, as far as art would permit that natural defect to be supplied by her powerful inter- position. When the mother came home, the child, who could hear no knocking, and therefore it must be by a strange and inexplicable instinct in nature, was the first that ran to the door, and falling in a great fit of laughter, a thing it was not much used to be- fore, having on the contrary rather a melancholy cast of complexion, it clung round its mother's knees, incessantly embracing and kissing them, as if just at that time it had an insight into what the mother had been doing for it, and into its own approaching relief from its misery. When the mother came with the child in her hand to the father, to tell him the welcome news, the child burst afresh into a great fit of laughter, which continued for an unusual space of time ; and the scene of such reciprocal affection and joy between a wife and her own husband, on so signal an occasion, is a thing easier to be felt by parents of a good dis- position, imagining themselves under the same cir- cumstance, with regard to a child they loved with fondness, than to be expressed or described by the pen of any writer. But it is certain, whenever they spoke of this affair, as anybody, who knows the im- patience of parents for the welfare of an only child may guess, they must be' often discoursing it over, and wishing the time was come ; the boy, who used seldom so much as to smile at other times, and who could never hear the greatest noise that could be made, would constantly look wishfully in their faces and laugh immoderately, which is a plain indication that there was then a wonderful instinct in nature, / 28 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES as I said before, which made him foretaste his good fortune, and, if I may be allowed the expression, the dawnings as it were of the second-sight, were then pregnant within him. To confirm this, the happy hour of his deliverance being come, and the doctor having procured Mr. Wallis's book, came with great joy. and desired to see his pupil; scarce were the words out of his mouth when the child happened to come into the room, and running towards the doctor, fell on his knees, kissed his hand eagerly, and laughed as be- fore, which to me is a demonstration that he had an insight into the good which the doctor intended him. It is certain, that several learned men, who have written concerning the second-sight, have demon- strated by incontestable proofs, and undeniable arguments, that children, nay, even horses and cows, see the second-sight, as well as men and women advanced in years. But of this I shall dis- course at large in its proper place, having allotted a whole future chapter for that same subject of second- sightedness. In about half a year, the doctor taught his little dumb pupil first to know his letters, then to name .anything whatsoever, to leave off some savage motions which he had taken of his own accord be- fore, to signify his mind by, and to impart his thoughts by his fingers and his pen, in a manner as intelligible, and almost as swift through the eyes, as that is of conveying our ideas to one another, by our voices, through the conduits and portholes of the ears. But in little more than two years he could write and read as well as anybody ; because a great many people cannot conceive this, and others pre- tend it is not to be done in nature, I will a little discourse upon doctor Wallis's foundation, and OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBEKL. 29 show in a manner obvious to the most ignorant, how this hitherto mysterious help may be easily ad- ministered to the deaf and the dumb, which shall be the subject of the ensuing chapter. But 1 cannot conclude this without telling the handsome saying with which this child, when not quite six years old, as soon as he thought he could express himself well, payed his first acknowledgment to his master, and which promised how great his future genius was to be, when so witty a child ripened into man. The words he wrote to him were these, only altered into English from the Scotch. Sir, It is no little work you have accomplished. My thanks are too poor amends ; the world, sir, shall give you thanks ; for as I could not have expressed myself without your teaching me, so those that can talk, though they have eyes, cannot see the things, which I can see, and shall tell them; so that in doing me this, you have done a general service to mankind. 30 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES CHAP. III. The method of teaching deaf and dumb persons to write, read, and understand a language. It is, I must confess, in some measure, amazing to me that men, of any moderate share of learning, should not naturally conceive of themselves a plain reason for this art, and know how to account for the practicability of it, the moment they hear the pro- position advanced ; the reasons for it are so obvious to the very first consideration we can make about it. It will be likewise as amazing to me that the most ignorant should not conceive it, after so plain a reason is given them for it, as I am now going to set down. To begin ; how are children at first taught a language that can hear ? are they not taught by sounds ? and what are those sounds, but tokens and signs to the ear. importing and signifying such and such a thing ? If, then, there can be signs made to the eye, agreed by the party teaching the child, that they signify such and such a thing, will not the eye of the child convey them to the mind, as well as the ear ? They are indeed different marks to different senses, but both the one and the other do equally signify the same things or notions, according to the will of the teacher, and consequently, must have an equal effect with the person who is to be instructed, for though the manners signifying are different, the things signified are the same. For example ; if, after having invented an alphabet upon the fingers, a master always keeps company OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 31 with a deaf child, and teaches it to call for whatso- ever it wants by such motions of the fingers which, if put down by letters, according to each invented motion of each finger, would form in writing a word of a thing which it wanted ; might not he by these regular motions teach its eye the same notions of things, as sounds do to the ears of children that hear ? The manner of teaching the alphabet by fingers, is plainly set down in the following table. When the deaf child has learned by these motions a good stock of words, as children that hear first learn by sounds, we may, methinks, call not impro- perly, the fingers of such a dumb infant, its mouth, and the eye of such a deaf child, its ear. When he has learnt thus far, he must be taught to write the alphabet, according as it was adapted to the motions of his fingers ; as for instance, the five vowels, a, e, i, o, u, by pointing to the top of the five fingers, and the other letters, b, c, d, &c, by such other place or posture of a finger, as in the above-mentioned table is set forth, or otherwise, as shall be agreed upon. When this is done, the marks B, R, E, A, D, and so of all other words, corresponding with such fingers, conveys through his eyes, unto his head, the same notion, viz., the thing signified, as the sound we give to those same letters, making the word ' bread,' do into our heads through the ears. This once done, he may be easily taught to under- stand the parts of speech, as the verb, the noun, pronoun, &c, and so, by rules of grammar and syntax, to compound ideas, and connect his words into a language. The method of which, since it is plainly set forth in doctor Wallis's letter to Mr. Beverly, I shall set it down by way of extract; that people in the same circumstances with the person we treat of, and of the like genius, may not 32 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES have their talents lost for want of the like assist- ance. When once a deaf person has learned so far as to understand the common discourse of others, and to express his mind tolerably well in writing, I see no room to doubt but that, provided nature has en- dowed him with a proper strength of genius, as other men that hear, he may become capable, upon further improvement, of such further knowledge as is attainable by reading. For I must here join with the learned doctor Wallis in asserting, as to the present case before us, that no reason can be assigned why such a deaf person may not attain the understanding of a language as perfectly as those that hear ; and with the same learned author I take upon me to lay down this proposition as certain, that allowing the deaf person the like time and ex- ercise, as to other men is requisite in order to attain the perfection of a language, and the elegance of it, he may understand as well, and write as good language, as other men ; and abating only what doth depend upon sound, as tones, cadences, and such punctilios, no whit inferior to what he might attain to, if he had his hearing as others have ? An extract from Dr. Wallis, concerning the method of teaching the deaf and dumb to read. It is most natural, (as children learn the names of things,) to furnish him by degrees with a nomen- clator, containing a competent number of names of things common and obvious to the eye, that you may show the thing answering to such a name, and OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 33 these digested under convenient titles, and placed under them in such convenient order, in several columns, or other orderly situation in the paper, as by their position best to express to the eye their relation or respect to one another. As contraries or correlatives one against the other, subordinates or appurtenances under their principle, which may serve as a kind of local memory. Thus, in one paper, under the title mankind, may be placed, not confusedly, but in decent order, man, woman, child (boy, girl.) In another paper, under the title body, may be written, in like convenient order, head (hair, skin, ear), face, forehead, eye (eyelid, eyebrow), cheek, nose (nostril), mouth (lip, chin), neck, throat, back, breast, side (right side, left side), belly, shoulders, arm (elbow, wrist, hand, — back, palm), finger (thumb, knuckle, nail), thigh, knee, leg (shin, calf, ancle), foot (heel, sole), toe. And when he hath learned the import of words in each paper, let him write them in like manner, in distinct leaves or pages of a book, prepared for that purpose, to confirm his memory, and to have recourse to it upon occasion. In a third paper, you may give him the inward parts ; as skull (brain), throat (windpipe, gullet), sto- mach, guts, heart, lungs, liver, spleen, kidney, bladder (urine), vein (blood), bone (marrow), flesh, fat, &c. In another paper, under the title beast, may be placed horse (stonehorse, gelding), mare (colt), bull (ox), cow, calf. Sheep, ram (wether), ewe (lamb), hog, boar, sow, pig, dog (mastiff, hound, greyhound, spaniel), bitch (whelp, puppy), hare, rabbit, cat, mouse, rat, &c. Under the title bird, or fowl, put cock, capon, hen, chick, goose (gander), gosling, duck (drake), swan, crow, kite, lark, &c. d. c. D 34 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Under the title fish, put pike, eel, plaice, salmon, lobster, crab, oyster, crawfish, &c. You may then put plants or vegetables under several heads or subdivisions of the same head ; as tree (root, body, bark, bough, leaf, fruit), oak, ash, apple-tree, pear-tree, vine, &c. Fruit ; apple, pear, plum, cherry, grape, nut, orange, lemon. Flower ; rose, tulip, gilliflower, herb (weed), grass, corn, wheat, barley, rye, pea, bean. And the like of inanimates ; as heaven, sun, moon, star, element, earth, water, air, fire ; and under the title earth, — clay, sand, gravel, stone. Metal ; gold, silver, brass, copper, iron (steel), lead, tin (pewter), glass. Under the title water, put sea, pond, river, stream ; under that of air, put light, dark, mist, fog, cloud, wind, rain, hail, snow, thunder, lightning, rainbow. Under that of fire ; coal, flame, smoke, soot, ashes. Under the title clothes, put woollen (cloth, stuff), linen (holland, lawn, lockarum), silk (satin, velvet), hat, cap, band, doublet, breeches, coat, cloak, stock- ing, shoe, boot, shirt, petticoat, gown, &c. Under the title house, put wall, roof, door, win- dow, casement, room. Under room, put shop, hall, parlour, dining-room, chamber, study, closet, kitchen, cellar, stable, &c. And under each of these, as distinct heads, the furniture or utensils belonging thereunto ; with di- visions and subdivisions, as there is occasion, which I forbear to mention, that I be not too prolix. And in like manner, from time to time, may be added more collections, or classes of names or words, conveniently digested, under distinct heads, and suitable distributions, to be written in distinct leaves or pages of his book in such order as may seem convenient. When he is furnished with a competent number OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 35 of names, though not so many as I have mentioned, it will be seasonable to teach him under the titles singular and plural, the formation of plurals from singulars, by adding s, or es ; as hand, hands ; face, faces ; fish, fishes, &c, with some few irre- gulars, as man, men ; woman, women ; foot, feet ; tooth, teeth ; mouse, mice ; louse, lice ; ox, oxen, &c. Which, except the irregulars, will serve for pos- sessives, to be after taught him, which are formed by their primitives by like addition of s or es, ex- cept some few irregulars, as my, mine ; thy, thine ; our, ours ; your, yours ; his, her, hers ; their, theirs, &c. And in all those and other like cases, it will be proper first to show him the particulars, and then the general title. Then teach him in another page or paper, the particles, a, an, the, this, that, these, those. And the pronouns, I, me, my, mine, thou, thee, thy, thine, we, us, our, ours, ye, you, your, yours, he, him, his, she, her, hers, it, its, they, them, their, shoes, heirs, who, whom, whose. Then under the titles substantive, adjective, teach him to connect these, as my hand, your head, his foot, his feet, her arm, her arms, our hats, their John's coat, William's band, &c. And in order to furnish him with more adjectives, under the title colours, you may place black, white, gray, green, blue, yellow, red, &c, and having showed the particulars, let him know that these are called colours. The like for taste and smell; as sweet, bitter, sour, stink. And for hearing, sound, noise, word. Then for touch or feeling, hot, warm, cold, cool, wet, moist, dry, hard, soft, tough, brittle, heavy, light, &c. From whence you may furnish him with more d2 36 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES examples of adjectives with substantives ; as white bread, brown bread, green grass, soft cheese, hard cheese, black hat, my black hat, &c. And then inverting the order, substantive, ad- jective, with the verb copulative between ; as silver is white, gold is yellow, lead is heavy, wood is light, snow is white, ink is black, flesh is soft, bone is hard, I am sick, I am not well, &c, which will begin to give him some notion of syntax. In like manner when substantive and substantive are so connected ; as gold is a metal, a rose is a flower, they are men, they are women, horses are beasts, geese are fowls, larks are birds, &c. Then as those before relate to quality, you may give him some other words relating to quantity. As long, short, broad, narrow ; thick, thin ; high, tall, low; deep, shallow, great, big, small (little), much, little ; many, few, full, empty ; whole, part, piece ; all, some, none, strong, weak, quick, slow, equal, unequal, bigger, less. Then words of figure; as straight, crooked, plain, bowed, concave, hollow, convex ; round, square, three-square, sphere, globe, bowl, cube, die, upright, sloping, leaning forward, leaning backward, like, unlike. Of gesture ; as stand, lie, sit, kneel, sleep. Of motion ; as move, stir, rest, walk, go, come, run, leap, ride, fall, rise, swim, sink, drawn, slide, creep, crawl, fly, pull, draw, thrust, throw, bring, fetch, carry. Then words relating to time ; place, number, weight, measure, money, &c, are, in convenient time, to be showed him distinctly ; for which the teacher, according to his discretion, may take a convenient season. As likewise the time of the day ; the days of the week, the days of the month, the months of the OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL* 37 year, and other things relating to the almanack, which he will quickly be capable to understand, if once methodically shown him. As likewise the names and situation of places and countries, which are convenient for him to know ; which may be orderly written in his book, and showed him in the map of London, England, Eu- rope, the world, &c. But these may be done at leisure, as likewise the practice of arithmetic, and other like pieces of learning. In the mean time, after the concord of substan- tive and adjective, he is to be showed by convenient examples, that of the nominative and verb ; as, for instance, I go, you see, he sits, they stand, the fire burns, the sun shines, the wind blows, the rain falls, the water runs, and the like, with the titles in the top nominative verb. After this, under the titles nominative verb, ac- cusative, give him examples of verbs transitive ; as I see you, you see me, the fire burns the wood, the boy makes the fire, the cook roasts the meat, the butler lays the cloth, we eat our dinner. Or even with a double accusative ; as, you teach me writing or to write, John teacheth me to dance, Thomas tell me a tale, &c. After this you may teach him the flexion or con- jugation of the verb, or what is equivalent there- unto ; for in our English tongue each verb hath but two tenses, the present and the preter ; two parti- ciples, the active and the passive ; all the rest is performed by auxiliaries, which auxiliaries have no more tenses than the other verbs. Those auxiliaries are do, did, will, would, shall, should, may, might, can, could, must, ought, to. have, had, am, be, was. And if by examples you can insinuate the signification of these few words, 38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES you have taught him the whole flexion of the verb. And here it will be convenient, once for all, to write him out a full paradigm of some one verb, suppose ' to see,' through all those auxiliaries. The verb itself hath but these four words to be learned, see, saw, seeing, seen ; save that after thou, in the second person singular, in both tenses we add est, and in the third person singular in the present tense, eth or es, or instead thereof, st, ih 9 s,. and so in all verbs. Then to the auxiliaries do, did ; will, would ; shall, should ; may, might ; can, could ; must, ought, to; we join the indefinite see. And after have, had, am, be, was, the passive particle seen, and so for all other verbs. But the auxiliary ' am ' or f be,' is somewhat ir- regular in a double form. Am, art, is ; plural, are ; was, wast, was ; plural were. Be, beest, be ; plural be, were, wert, were ; plural were. Be, am, was, being, been. Which, attended with the other auxiliaries, make us the whole passive voice. All verbs, without exceptions, in the active par- ticiple are formed by adding ing; as see, seeing ; teach, teaching, &c. The preter tense and the participle are formed regularly, by adding ed, but are oft subject to con- tractions, and other irregularities, sometimes the same in both, sometimes different ; and therefore it is convenient here to give a table of verbs, espe- cially the most usual, for those three cases, which may at once teach their signification and formation ; as boil, boiled ; roast, roasted, roasted ; bake, baked, baked, &c. ; teach, taught, taught ; bring, brought, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 39 brought ; buy, bought, bought, &c. ; see, saw, seen ; give, gave, given ; take, took, taken ; forsake, for- sook, forsaken ; write, wrote, written, &c. ; with many more fit to be learned. The verbs being thus despatched, he is then to learn the prepositions, wherein lies the whole re- gimen of the noun. For diversity of cases we have none ; the force of which is to be insinuated by convenient examples, suited to their different signi- fications. As, for instance, ' of ;' a piece of bread, a pint of wine, the colour of a pot, the colour of gold, a ring of gold, a cup of silver, the mayor of London, the longest of all, &c. And in like manner, for, off, on, upon, to, unto, till, until, from, at, in, within, out, without, into, out of; about, over, under; above, below; between, among; before, behind, after; for, by, with, through, against, concerning, and by this time he will be pretty well enabled to understand a single sentence. In the last place, he is in like manner to be taught conjunctions, which serve to connect not words only, but sentences ; as and, also ; likewise, either, or whether ; neither, nor, if then, why, wherefore, because, therefore, but, though, yet, &c; and these illustrated by convenient examples in each case, as, Because I am cold, therefore I go to the fire, that I may be warm, for it is cold weather. If it were fair, then it would be good walking ; but, however, though it rain, yet I must go, because I promised ; with other like instances. And by this time his book, if well furnished with plenty of words, and those well digested under several heads, and in good order, and well recruited from time to time as new words occur, will serve him in the nature of a dictionary and grammar. And in case the deaf person be otherwise of a good natural capacity, and the teacher of a good 40 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES sagacity ; by this method, proceeding gradually step by step, you may, with diligence and due appli- cation of teacher and learner, in a year's time, or thereabouts, perceive a greater progress than you would expect, and a good foundation laid for further instruction in matters of religion, and other know- ledge which may be taught by books. It will be convenient all along to have pen, ink, and paper, ready at hand, to write down in a word, what you signify to him by signs, and cause him to write, or show how to write what he signifies by signs ; which way of signifying their mind by signs, deaf persons are often very good at. And we must endeavour to learn their language, if I may so call it, in order to teach them ours, by showing what words answer to their signs. It will be convenient also, as you go along, after some convenient progress made, to express, in as plain language as may be, the import of some of the tables ; as, for instance, The head is the highest part of the body, the feet the lowest part, the face is the fore part of the head, the forehead is over the eyes, the cheeks are under the eyes, the nose is between the cheeks, the mouth is under the nose, and above the chin, &c. And such plain discourse put into writing, and particularly explained, will teach him by degrees to understand plain sentences ; and like advantages, a sagacious teacher may take, as occasion offers itself from time to time. This extract is mostly taken out of the ingenious Dr. Wallis, and lying hid in that little book, which is but rarely inquired after, and too scarcely known ; died, in a manner, with that great man. And as he designed it for the general use of mankind, that laboured under the misfortune of losing those two valuable talents of hearing and speaking, I thought OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 41 it might not be amiss, in the life of so particular a dumb person as I am writing, to give them this small but particular fragment of grammar and syntax. It is exactly adjusted to the English tongue, be- cause such are the persons with whom the doctor had to deal, and such the persons whose benefit alone I consult in this treatise. One of the chief persons who was taught by Dr. Wallis was Mr. Alexander Popham, brother-in- law, if I am not mistaken, to the present earl of Oxford ; and he was a very great proficient in this way, and though he was born deaf and dumb, understood the language so well as to give under his hand many rare indications of a masterly genius. The uncle of his present Sardinian majesty, as I have been credibly informed, had the want of the same organs, and yet was a perfect statesman, and wrote in five or six different languages elegantly well. Bishop Burnet, in his book of travels tells us a story almost incredible, but tells it as a passage that de- serves our belief. It is concerning a young lady at Genoa, who was not only deaf and dumb, but blind too, it seems, into the bargain ; and this lady, he assures us as a truth, could, by putting her hand on her sister's mouth, know everything she said. But to return back to England ; we have many rare instances of our own countrymen, the principal of whom I shall mention as their names occur to my memory. Sir John Gawdy, sir Thomas Knot cliff, sir Gostwick, sir Henry Lydall, and Mr. Richard Lyns of Oxford, were all of this num- ber, and yet men eminent in their several capacities for understanding many authors, and expressing themselves in writing with wonderful facility. In Hatton-garden there now lives a miracle of 42 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES wit and good nature ; I mean the daughter of Mr. Loggin, who, though born deaf and dumb, and she has a brother who has the same impedi- ments, yet writes her mind down upon any subject with such acuteness, as would amaze learned men themselves, and put many students that have passed for wits to the blush, to see themselves so far sur- passed by a woman amidst that deficiency of the common organs. If anybody speaks a word dis- tinctly, this lady will, by observing narrowly the motion of the speaker's lips, pronounce the word afterwards very intelligibly. As there are a great many families in England and Ireland that have several, and some even have five or six dumb persons belonging to them, and as a great many more believe it impossible for persons born deaf and dumb to write and read, and have thence taken occasion to say and assert that Mr. Campbell could certainly speak, I could never think it a digression in the history of this man's life to set down the grammar by which he himself was taught, and which he has taught others, two of which scho- lars of his are boys in this town, partly to confute the slander made against him, and partly for the help of others dumb and deaf, whose parents may by these examples be encouraged to get them taught. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 43 CHAP. IV. Young Duncan Campbell returns with his mother to Edinburgh. The earl of Argyle } s overthrow. The ruin of Mr. Archibald Campbell and his death. Young Duncan's practice in prediction at Edinburgh while yet a boy. Our young boy, now between six and seven years of age, half a Highlander and half a Laplander, de- lighted in wearing a little bonnet and plaid, thinking it looked very manly in his countrymen ; and his father, as soon as he was out of his hanging sleeves, and left off his boy's vest, indulged him with that kind of dress, which is truly antique and heroic. In this early part of his nonage he was brought to Edinburgh by his mother-in-law, where I myself grew afresh acquainted with her, his father being then but lately dead. Just after the civil commo- tion, and off and on, have known him ever since, and conversed with him very frequently during that space of time, which, now is about three or four-and- thirty years, so that whatever I say concerning him in the future pages, I shall relate to the reader from my own certain knowledge, which, as I resolve to continue anonymous, may perhaps not have so much weight and authority as if I had prefixed my name to the account. Be that as it will, there are hundreds of living witnesses that will justify each action I relate, and his own future actions while he lives will procure belief and credit to the precedent ones which I am going to record ; so that if many 44 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES do remain infidels to my relations, and will not allow them exact (the fate of many as credible and more important historians than myself), I can, how- ever, venture to flatter myself, that greater will be the number of those who will have a faith in my writings, than of those who will reject my accounts as incredible. Having just spoke of the decease of Mr. Archibald Campbell, the father of our young Duncan Campbell, it will not be amiss here to observe how true the predictions of his Lapland mother were, which arose from second-sight, according to the notices given by the child's father to its grandfather in his letter from Lapland, even before it was born ; which shows that the infant held this second-sighted power, or occult faculty of divination, even by inheritance. In the year 1685, the duke of Monmouth and the earl of Argyle sailed out of the ports of Holland without any obstruction, the earl of Argyle, in May, with three ships for Scotland ; and Monmouth, in June, with the same number for England, The earl setting out first, was also the first at landing. Argyle having attempted to land in the north of Scotland, and being disappointed by the vigilance of the bishop of the Orcades, landed in the west, and encamped at Dunstaffnage castle in the province of Lorn, which had belonged to him. He omitted nothing that might draw over to him all the malecontents in the kingdom, whom he thought more numerous than they afterwards appeared to be. He dispersed about his declarations, wherein, after protesting that he had taken up arms only in defence of religion and the laws, against an unjust usurper, so he styled king James the second, he in- vited all good protestants, and such Scotch as would assert their liberty, to join him against a prince, he said, was got into the throne to ruin the reforma- OF MR. DUNCAN" CAMPBELL. 45 tion, and to bring in popery and arbitrary power. Next he sent letters to those he thought his friends. among whom was Mr. Archibald Campbell, who ac- cording to the vast deference payed by the Scots to their chief, joined him, though in his heart of a quite different principle : to call them to his assist- ance, he detached two of his sons to make inroads in the neighbourhood, and compel some by threats. others by mighty promises, to join him. All hi? contrivances could not raise him above three thou- sand men, with whom he encamped in the isle of Bute, where he was soon, in a manner, besieged by the earl of Dumbarton, with the king's forces, and several other bodies, commanded by the duke of Gordon, the marquis of Athol, the earl of Arran, and other great men, who came from all parts to quench the fire before it grew to a head. The earl of Argyle being obliged to quit a post he could not make good, went over into a part of the country of his own name, where having hastily for- tified a castle called Ellingrey, he put into it the arms and ammunition taken out of his ships, which lay at anchor under the cannon of a fort he erected near that place. There his rout began ; for going out from the castle with his forces to make an in- cursion, one of his parties was defeated by the mar- quis of Athol, who slew four hundred of his men : and captain Hamilton, who attacked his ships with some of the king's, and took them without any resistance. The earl of Dumbarton advancing towards him, at the same time, by long marches, while he endeavoured to secure himself by rivers, surprised him passing the Clyde in the village of Killern, as he was marching towards Lenox. Dumbarton coming upon them at night, would have stayed till the next day to attack the rebels, but they gave him not so much 46 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES time, for they passed the river in the night, in such confusion, that being overcome with fear, they dis- persed as soon as over. Argyle could scarce rally so many as would make him a small guard, which was soon scattered again ; Dumbarton having passed the river, and divided his forces to pursue those that fled. Argyle had taken guides to conduct him to Galloway ; but they mistaking the way, and leading him into a bog, most of those that still followed him quitted their horses, every man shifting for himself. Argyle himself was making back alone towards the Clyde, when two resolute servants, belonging to an officer in the king's army meeting him, though they knew him not, bid him surrender. He fired at and missed them ; but they took better aim, and wounded him with a bistol ball. Then the earl drawing his two pistols out of the holsters, quitted his horse, that was quite tired, and took the river. A country fellow, who came with those two, that had first assaulted him, pursued him with a pistol in his hand ; the earl would have fired one of his, but the flint failing he was dangerously wounded in the head by the peasant. He discovered himself as he fell senseless, crying out, Unfortunate Argyle. This nobleman, how far soever he may be thought misled in principle, was certainly in his person a very brave and a very gallant hero. They made haste to draw him out and bring him to himself; after which, being delivered up to the officers, the erring, unfor- tunate great man, was conducted to Edingburh and there beheaded. Many gentlemen that followed the fortunes of this great man, though not in his death, they shared in all the other calamities attending his overthrow. They most of them fled into the remotest isles and the obscurest corners of all Scotland ; contented with the saving of their lives ; they grew exiles and OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 47 banished men of their own making, and abdicated their estates before they were known to be forfeited, because, for fear of being informed against by the common fellows they commanded, they durst not appear to lay their claims. Of this number was Mr. Archibald Campbell, and this new disaster wounded him deep into the very heart, after so many late misadventures, and sent him untimely to the grave. He perfectly pined away and wasted ; he was six months dying inch by inch, and the differ- ence between his last breath and his way of breathing during all that time, was only, that he expired with a greater sigh than he ordinarily fetched every time when he drew his breath. Everything the Lapland lady had predicted so long before, being thus come to pass, we may the less admire at the wonders performed by her son, when we consider this faculty of divination to be so derived to him from her, and grown as it were he- reditary. Our young prophet, who had taught most of his little companions to converse with him by finger, was the head at every little pastime and game they played at. Marbles, which he used to call children's playing at bowls, yielded him mighty diversion ; and he was so dexterous an artist at shooting that little alabaster globe from between the end of his fore- finger and the knuckle of his thumb, that he seldom missed hitting plum, as the boys call it, the marble he aimed at, though at the distance of two or three yards. The boys always when they played coveted to have him on their side, and by hearing that he foretold others things, used to consult him, when they made their little matches, which were things of great importance in their thoughts, who should get the victory. He used commonly to leave these trifles undecided, but if ever he gave his opinion in 48 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES these trivial affairs, the persons fared well by their consultation, for his judgment about them was like a petty oracle, and the end always answered his prediction. But I would have my reader imagine, that though our Duncan Campbell was himself but a boy, he was not consulted only by boys ; his pe- netration and insight into things of a high nature, got air, and being attested by credible witnesses won him the esteem of persons, of mature years and dis- cretion. If a beautiful young virgin languished for a husband, or a widow's mind was in labour to have a second venture of infants by another spouse ; if a housekeeper had lost anything belonging to her master, still little Duncan Campbell was at hand ; he was the oracle to be applied to, and the little chalked circle, where he was diverting himself with his playfellows near the cross at Edinburgh, was frequented with as much solicitation, and as much credit, as the tripos of Apollo was at Delphos in ancient times. It was highly entertaining to see a young blooming beauty come and slily pick up the boy from his company, carry him home with as much eagerness as she would her gallant, because she knew she should get the name of her gallant out of him before he went, and bribe him with a sugarplum to write down the name of a young Scotch peer in a green ribbon that her mouth watered after. How often after he has been wallowing in the dust, have I myself seen nice squeamish widows help him up in their gilded chariots, and give him a pleasant ride with them, that he might tell them they should not long lie alone ; little Duncan Camp- bell had as much business upon his hands as the parsons of all the parishes in Edinburgh. He com- monly was consulted, and named the couples before OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 49 the minister joined them ; thus he grew a rare cus- tomer to the toyshop, from whence he most an end received fees and rewards for his advices. If lady Betty such a one was foretold that she should cer- tainly have beau such a one in marriage, then little Duncan was sure to have a hobbyhorse from the toyshop, as a reward for the promised fop. If such a widow that was ugly, but very rich, was to be pushed hard for, as she pretended, though in reality easily won, little Duncan, upon insuring her such a captain, or such a lieutenant-colonel, was sure to be presented from the same child's warehouse, with a very handsome drum, and a silvered trumpet. If a sempstress had an itching desire for a parson, she would, upon the first assurance of him, give this little Apollo a pasteboard temple, or church, finely painted, and a ring of bells into the bargain, from the same toy-office. If a housekeeper lost any plate, the thief was certain to be catched, provided she took little master into the storeroom, and asked him the question, after she had given him his bellyfull of sweet- meats. Neither were the women only his consulters ; the grave merchants, who were anxious for many ven- tures at sea, applied to the boy for his opinion of their security, and they looked upon his opinion to be as safe as the insurance office for ships. If he but told them, though the ship was j ust set sail and a tempest rose just after on the ocean, that it would have a successful voyage, gain the port designed, and return home safe laden with the exchange of traffic and merchandize, they dismissed all their fears, banished all their cares, set their hearts at ease, and, safe in his opinion, enjoyed a calm of mind amidst a storm of weather. d. c. E 50 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES I myself knew one count Cog, an eminent gamester, who was a person so far from being of a credulous disposition, that he was an unbeliever in several points of religion, and the next door to an infidel; yet, as much as he was a stranger to faith, he was mastered and overpowered so far in his incredulity by the strange events which he had seen come fre- quently to pass from the predictions of this child, that he had commonly daily access to this boy to learn his more adverse and more prosperous hours of gaming. At first indeed he would try, when the child foretold him his ill fortune, whether it would prove true, and relying upon the mere hazard and turn of the die, he had always, as he observed, a run of ill luck on those forbidden days, as he never failed of good if he chose the fortunate hours di- rected by the boy. One time above all the rest, just before he was departing from Edinburgh, and when the season of gaming was almost over, most persons of wealth and distinction withdrawing for pleasure to their seats in the country, he came to young Duncan Campbell to consult, and was ex- tremely solicitous to know how happily or unluckily he should end that term, as we may call it, of the gamester's weighty business, viz., play, there being a long vacation likely to ensue, when the gaming table would be empty, and the box and dice lie idle and cease to rattle, The boy encouraged him so well with his predictions on this occasion, that count Cog went to the toyshop, brought him from thence a very fine ivory T totum, as children call it, a pretty set of painted and gilded little ninepins and a bowl, and a large bag of marbles and alloys ; and what do you think the gamester got by this little present and the prediction of the boy ? why without telling the least tittle of falsehood, within OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 51 the space of the last week's play, the gains of count Cog really amounted to no less than 20,000/. sterling neat money. Having mentioned these persons of so many dif- ferent professions by borrowed names, and perhaps in a manner seemingly ludicrous, I would not have my reader from hence take occasion of looking upon my account as fabulous. If I was not to make use of borrowed names, but to tell the real charac- ters and names of the persons, I should do injury to those old friends of his who first gave credit to our young seer, while I am endeavouring to gain him the credit and esteem of new ones, in whose way it has not yet happened to consult him. For many persons are very willing to ask such questions as the foregoing ones ; but few or none willing to have the public told they asked them ; though they succeeded in their wish, and were amply satisfied in their curiosity. I have represented them perhaps in a ludicrous manner, because though they are mysterious actions they are still the actions of a boy, and as the rewards he received for his advices did really and truly consist of such toys as I men- tioned, so could they not be treated of in a more serious manner, without the author's incurring a magisterial air of pedantry, and showing a mind, as it were, of being mighty grave and sententious about trifles. There are, however, some things of greater weight and importance done by him in a more advanced stage of life, which will be delivered to the public with that exactitude and gravity which becomes them ; and in some of those relations the names of some persons that are concerned shall be printed, because it will not at all be injurious to them, or because I have their leave, and they are still living to testify what I shall relate. In the mean time, as the greatest part of his non- e2 52 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES age was spent in predicting almost innumerable things, which are all, however, reducible to the ge- neral heads above mentioned, I will not tire the reader with any particulars : but instead of doing that, before I come to show his power of divination, in the more active parts of his life, and when after removing from Edinburgh to London, he at last made it his public profession ; I shall account how such divinations may be made, and divert the reader with many rare examples, taken from seve- ral faithful and undoubted historians, of persons who have done the like before him, some in one way, and some in another ; though in this he seems to be peculiar, and to be, if I may be allowed the expression, a species by himself alone in the talent of prediction ; that he has collected within his own individual capacity all the methods which others severally used, and with which they were differently and singly gifted in their several ways of foreseeing and foretelling. This art of prediction is not attainable any otherwise, than by these three ways ; first, it is done by the company of familiar spirits and genii, which are of two sorts ; some good and some bad ; who tell the gifted person the things of which he informs other people. Secondly, it is performed by the second-sight, which is very various, and differs in most of the possessors, it being but a very little in some, very extensive and constant in others ; beginning with some in their infancy, and leav- ing them before they come to years ; happening to others in a middle age, to others again in an old age, that never had it before, and lasting only for a term of years, and now and then for a very short period of time ; and in some, intermitting, like fits as it were, of vision, that leave them for a time, and then return to be as strong in them as ever, and it being OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 53 in a manner hereditary to some families, whose children have it from their infancy, without inter- mission, to a great old age, and even to the time of their death, which they often foretell before it comes to pass, to a day, nay, even to an hour. Thirdly, it is attained by the diligent study of the lawful part of the art of magic. Before I give the reader an account, as I shall do in three distinct discourses, first, concerning the intercourse which familiar spirits, viz., the good and bad genii, have had and continue to have to a great degree with some select parts of mankind ; secondly, concerning the wonderful and almost mi- raculous power of a second-sight, with which many, beyond all controversy, have been extraordinarily but visibly gifted ; and, thirdly, concerning the pitch of perfection to which the magic science has been carried and promoted by some adepts in that mysterious art; 1 will premise a few particulars about the genii which attended our little Duncan Campbell, and about the second-sight which he had when yet a child, and when we may much more easily believe that the wonders he performed and wrote of, must have been rather brought about by the intervention of such genii and the mediation of such a sight, than that he could have invented such fables concerning them, and compassed such predictions as seem to want their assistance, by the mere dint of a child's capacity. One day, I remember, when he was about nine years of age, going early to the house where he and his mother lived, and it being before his mo- ther was stirring, I went into little Duncan Camp- bell's room to divert myself with him, I found him sitting up in his bed with his eyes broad open, but as motionless as if he had been asleep, or even, if it 54 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES had not been for a lively beautiful colour which the little pretty fair silver-haired boy always had in his cheeks, as if he had been quite dead ; he did not seem so much as to breathe ; the eyelids of him were so fixed and immoveable, that the eyelashes did not so much as once shake, which the least motion imaginable must agitate ; not to say that he was like a person in an ecstacy, he was at least in what we commonly call a brown study, to the highest degree, and for the largest space of time 1 ever knew. I, who had been frequently informed by people who have been present at the operations of second-sighted persons, that at the sight of a vision the eyelids of the person are erected, and the eyes continue staring till the object vanishes ; I, I say, sat myself softly down on his bed-side, and with a quiet amazement observed him, avoiding diligently any motion that might give him the least disturb- ance, or cause in him any avocation or distraction of mind from the business he was so intent upon. I remarked that he held his head sideways, with his mouth wide open and in a listening posture, and that after so lively a manner, as, at first general thought, made me forget his deafness, and plainly imagine he heard something, till the second thought of reflection brought into my mind the misfortune that shut up all passage for any sound through his ears. After a steadfast gaze, which lasted about seven minutes, he smiled, and stretched his arms as one recovering from a fit of indolence, and rubbed his eyes ; then turning towards me, he made the sign of a salute, and hinted to me, upon his fingers, his desire for pen, ink, and paper, which I reached him from a little desk that stood at his bed's feet. Placing the paper upon his knees he wrote me the following lines, which together with my answers OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. GO I preserve by me, for their rarity, to this very day, and which I have transcribed word for word, as they form a little series of dialogue. Duncan Campbell. I am sorry I cannot stay with you ; but I shall see my pretty youth and my lamb by and by, in the fields, near a little coppice or grove, where I go often to play with them, and I wuuld not lose their company for the whole world ; for they and I are mighty familiar together, and the boy tells me everything that gets me my reputation among the ladies and nobility, and you must keep it secret. My question. I will be sure to keep it secret ; but how do you know you are to meet them there to-day ? Did the little boy appoint you ? Duncan Campbell. Yes he did, and signified that he had several things to predict to me con- cerning people, that he foreknew would come to me the week following to ask me questions. My question. But what was you staring at when I came in ? Duncan Campbell. Why at that little boy that goes along with the lamb I speak of, and it was then he made me the appointment. My question. How does he do it ? Does he write ? Duncan Campbell. Xo, he writes sometimes, but oftener he speaks with his fingers, and mighty swift ; no man can do it so quick, or write half so soon ; he has a little bell in his hand, like that which my mo- ther makes me a sign to shake when she wants the servants : with that he tickles my brain strangely, and gives me an incredible delight of feeling in the inside of my head ; he usually wakes me with it in the morning when he comes to make me an appoint- ment. I fancy it is what you call hearing, which makes me mighty desirous I could hear in your way ; it is sweeter to the feeling, methinks, than anything 56 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES . is to the taste ; it is just as if my head was tickle< to death, as my nurse used to tickle my sides ; but it is a different feeling, for it makes things like little strings tremble in my temples and behind my ears. Now I remember, I will tell you what it is like, that makes me believe it is like your hearing, and that strange thing which you that can speak, call sound or noise : because, when I was at church with my mother, who told me the bells could be heard ringing a mile off, as I was kneeling on the bench, and leaning over the top of the pew and gnawing the board, every time the man pulled the rope, I thought all my head beat as if it would come to pieces, but yet it pleased me methought, rather than pained me, and I would be always gnawing the board when the man pulled the rope, and I told my mother the reason : the feeling of that was something like the little bell, but only that made my head throb as if it would break, and this tickles me and makes, as it were, little strings on the back of my ears dance and tremble like any- thing ; is not that like your way of hearing ? If it be, it is a sweet thing to hear ; it is more pleasant than to see the finest colours in the world ; it is something like being tickled in the nose with a fea- ther till one sneezes, or like the feeling after one strikes the leg, when it has been numb or asleep, only with this difference, that those two ways give a pain, and the other a pleasure : I remember, too, when I had a great cold for about two months, I had a feeling something like it, but that was blunt, dull, confused, and troublesome. Is not this like what you call hearing ? My question. It is the finest kind of hearing, my dear, it is what we call music. But what sort of a boy is that that meets you ? And what sort of a lamb ? OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 57 Duncan Campbell. Oh! though they are like other boys and other lambs which you see, they are a thousand times prettier and finer ; you never saw such a boy nor such a lamb in your lifetime. My question. How big is he ? As big as you are ? And what sort of a boy is he ? Duncan Campbell. He is a little little pretty boy, about as tall as my knee, his face is as white as snow, and so are his little hands ; his cheeks are as red as a cherry, and so are his lips ; and when he breathes, it makes the air more perfumed than my mother's sweet bags that she puts among the linen ; he has got a crown of roses, cowslips, and other flowers upon his head, such as the maids gather in May ; his hair is like fine silver threads, and shine like the beams of the sun ; he wears a loose veil down to his feet, that is as blue as the sky in a clear day, and embroidered with spangles, that look like the brightest stars in the night ; he car- ries a silver bell in one hand, and a book and pencil in the other ; and he and the little lamb will dance and leap about me in a ring as high as my head ; the lamb has got a little silver collar, with nine little bells upon it ; and every little piece of wool upon its back, that is as white as milk, is tied up all round it in puffs, like a little miss's hair, with ribbons of all colours ; and round its head too are little roses and violets stuck very thick into the wool that grows upon its forehead, and behind and between its ears, in the shape of a diadem. They first meet me dancing thus ; and after they have danced some time, the little boy writes down wonderful things in his book, which I write down in mine ; then they dance again, till he rings his bell, and then they are gone all of a sudden, I know not where ; but I feel the tinkling in the inside of my head caused by the bell less and less, till I don't feel it at all, and 58 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES then I go home, read over my lesson in my book, and when I have it by heart, I burn the written leaves, according as the little boy bids me, or he would let me have no more. But I hear the little bell again, the little boy is angry with me, he pulled me twice by the ear, and I would not displease him for anything ; so I must get up and go immediately to the joy and delight of my life. I told him he might, if he would promise me to tell me further another time ; he said he would, if I would keep it secret. I told him I would, and so we parted ; though just before he went, he said he smelt some venison, and he was sure they would shortly have some for dinner ; and nothing was so sure as that, my man had my orders to bring a side of venison to me the next day to Mrs. Campbell's, for I had been hunting, and came thither from the death of a deer that morning ; and intended, as usual, to make a stay there for two or three days. There are, I know, many men of severe principles, and who are more strict, grave, and formal in their manner of thinking, than they are wise, who will be apt to judge of these relations as things merely fabulous and chimerical, and not contented with being disbelievers by themselves, will labour to insinuate into others this pernicious notion, that it is a sign of infirmity and weakness in the head to yield them credit. But though I could easily argue these sir Gravities down, though a sentence or two would do their business, put them beyond the power of replying, and strike them dumb, yet do I think it not worth my while ; their greatest and most wonted objection against these Eu- demons and Kakodemons, being that it arises all from ihe work of fancy, in persons of a melancholic blood. If we consider the nature of this child's dialogue with me, will it not be more whimsically OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 59 strange and miraculous, to say that a child of nine years' old had only a fancy of such things as these, of which it had never heard anybody give an ac- count, and that it could, by the mere strength of imagination, predict such things as really after came to pass, than it is, when it does so strangely predict things, to believe the child does it, in the manner itself owns it does, which is by the intervention of a good demon, or a happy genius. Departing therefore from these singular and wise men's opi- nions, who will believe nothing excellent can hap- pen to others, which it has not been their lot to en- joy a share of, I shall take my farewell hastily of them, without losing my own time or theirs, in the words of the ingenious Monsieur le Clerc : Acerbos homines non moror, indignos quippe, qui hcec studia tractent, aut quorum judicii ulla ratio habeatur. I shall rather see how far these things have lain open to the eyes of, and been explained by the an- cient sages ; I will relate who among them were happy in their genii, and who among the moderns, whose examples may be authorities for our belief; I will set down as clearly as I can what perception men have had of genii or spirits by the sense of seeing, what by the sense of hearing, what by the sense of feeling, touching, or tasting ; and, in fine, what perception others have had of these genii by all the senses, what by dreams, and what by magic ; a thing rarely to be met with at once in any single man, and which seems particular to the child, who was the subject of our last little historical account. When I have brought examples and the opinions of wise philosophers, and the evidence of undeniable wit- nesses, which one would think sufficient to evince persons of the commerce men have with spirits, if they were not past all sense of conviction ; I shall, not so much to corroborate what I say, as to shame 60 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES some wiseacres, who would by their frail reason scan all things, and pretend to solve the mysteries ascribed to spirits, as facts merely natural, and who would banish from the thoughts of men all belief of spirits whatsoever, I shall, I say, in order to put to shame these wiseacres, if they have any shame left, produce the opinions of the Fathers as divines, show the doctrines of spirits in general to be consistent with Christianity, that they are delivered in the Scripture and by Christian tradition, in which if they will not acquiesce, I shall leave them to the labyrinth of their own wild opinions, which in the end will so perplex their judgments of things, that they will be never able to extricate themselves ; and these different heads will be the subject of the chapter ensuing ; and will, or I am greatly mistaken, form both an instructive, edifying, and entertaining discourse, for a reader really and truly intelligent, and that has a good taste and relish for sublime things. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 61 CHAP. V. An argument proving the perception which men have, and have had, by all the senses, as seeing, hearing, fyc, of demons, genii, or familiar spirits. It is said in the ninth book of the Morals of Ari- stotle, It is better to come at the probable knowledge of some things above us in the heavens, than to be capable of giving many demonstrations relating to things here below. This is no doubt an admirable proposition, and speaks the lofty aims of that sub- lime mind from whence it proceeded. Among all the disquisitions in this kind, none seem to me more excellent than those which treat concerning the genii that attend upon men, and guide them in the actions of life. A genius, or demon, of the good kind, is a sort of mediate being, between human and divine, which gives the mind of man a pleasant conjunction with angelic and celestial faculties, and brings down to earth a faint participation of the joys of heaven. That there have been such fortu- nate attendants upon wise men, we have many rare instances. They have been ascribed to Socrates, Aristotle, Plotinus, Porphyrius, Iamblicus, Chicus, Scaliger, and Cardan. The most celebrated of all these ancients, was Socrates ; and as for his having a genius or demon, we have the testimonies of Plato, Xenophon, and Antisthenes, his contemporaries, confirmed by Laertius, Plutarch, Maximus Tyrius, Dion Chrysostomus, Cicero, Apuleius, Ficinus, and others ; many of the moderns, besides Tertullian, Origen. Clemens Alexandrinus, Austin, and others ; 62 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES and Socrates himself, in Plato's Theage, says, By some divine lot I have a certain demon which has followed me from my childhood as an oracle ; and in the same place intimates that the way he gained his instruction, was by hearing the demon's voice. Nothing is certainly so easy as for men to be able to contradict things, though never so well attested, with such an air of truth as to make the truth of the history doubted by others as well as themselves, where no demonstrative proof can be brought to convince them. This has been the easy task of those who object against the demon of Socrates ; but when no demonstrative proof is to be had on. either side, does not wisdom incline us to lean to the most probable ? Let us then consider whether the evidences are not more credible, and witnesses of such a thing are not persons of more authority, than these men are, who vouchsafe to give no rea- son but their own incredulity, for maintaining the contrary, and whether those, therefore, by the right rule of judging, ought not much sooner than these, to gain over our assent to their assertions ? We will, however, laying aside the histories of those ancient times, the sense whereof, by various readings and interpretations being put upon the words, is rendered obscure and almost unintelligi- ble, descend to more modern relations, the facts whereof shall be placed beyond doubt, by reason of the evidences we will bring to attest them, and shall consequently prove the perception men have of spirits, or genii, by every sense. SECTION I. We will first begin as to the perception of spirits by the sight. - OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 63 Mr. Glanvil, in his Collections of Relations, for proving Apparitions, Spirits, &c, tells us of an Irishman that had like to have been carried away by spirits, and of the ghost of a man, who had been seven years dead, that brought a medicine to his bed-side. The relation is thus : — A gentleman in Ireland, near to the earl of Orrery's, sending his butler one afternoon to buy cards, as he passed a field, to his wonder, he espied a company of people sitting round a table, with a deal of good cheer before them, in the midst of the field ; and he, going up towards them, they all arose and saluted him, and desired him to sit down with them ; but one of them whispered these words in his ear : Do nothing this company invites you to. Hereupon he refused to sit down at the table, and immediately table and all that belonged to it were gone, and the company are now dancing and playing upon musical instruments. And the butler being desired to join himself with them, but he refusing this also, they all fall to work, and he not being to be prevailed with to accompany them in working, any more than in feasting or dancing, they all dis- appeared, and the butler is now alone ; but instead of going forwards, home he returns, as fast as he could drive, in a great consternation ; and was no sooner entered his master's door, but he fell down and lay some time senseless, but coming again to himself, he related to his master what had passed. The night following there comes one of his com- pany to his bed-side, and tells him, that if he offered to stir out of the doors the next day, he would be carried away. Hereupon he kept within ; but towards the evening, having need to make water, he adventured to put one foot over the thres iold, se- veral standing by, which he had no sooner lone but they espied a rope cast about his middle ; and the 64 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES poor man was hurried away with great swiftness, they following him as fast as they could, but could not overtake him; at length they espied an horse- man coming towards him, and made signs to him to stop the man whom he saw coming near him, and both ends of the rope, but nobody drawing ; when they met he laid hold of one end of the rope, and immediately had a smart blow given him over his arm with the other end ; but by this means the man was stopped, and the horseman brought him back with him. The earl of Orrery hearing of these strange passages, sent to the master to desire him to send this man to his house, which he accordingly did ; and the morning following, or quickly after, he told the earl that his spectre had been with him again, and assured him that that day he should most cer- tainly be carried away, and that no endeavours should avail to the saving of him ; upon this he was kept in a large room with a considerable number of persons to guard him, among whom was the famous stroaker Mr. Greatrix, who was a neighbour. There were, besides other persons of quality, two bishops in the house at the same time, who were consulted con- cerning the making use of a medicine, the spectre or ghost prescribed, of which mention will be made anon, but they determined on the negative. Till part of the afternoon was spent, all was quiet ; but at length he was perceived to rise from the ground, whereupon Mr. Greatrix and another lusty man clapped their arms over his shoulders, one of them before him, and the other behind, and weighed him down with all their strength ; but he was forcibly taken up from them, and they were too weak to keep their hold, and for a considerable time he was carried into the air, to and fro over their heads, several of the company still running under him to prevent his . OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 65 receiving hurt if he should fall ; at length he fell, and was caught before he came to the ground, and had by that means no hurt. All being quiet till bed-time, my lord ordered two of his servants to lie with him, and the next morning he told his lordship, that his spectre was again with him, and brought a wooden dish with grey liquor in it, and bid him drink it off; at the first sight of the spectre he said he endeavoured to awake his bed- fellows ; but it told him, that that endeavour should be in vain ; and that he had no cause to fear him, he being his friend, and he that at first gave him the good advice in the field, which had he not followed he had been before now perfectly in the power of the company he saw there ; he added, that he concluded it was impossible but that he should have been carried away the day before, there being so strong a combination against him ; but now he could assure him there would be no more attempts of that nature, but he being troubled with two sorts of sad fits, he had brought that liquor to cure him of them, and bid him drink it ; he peremptorily refusing, the spectre was angry, and upbraided him with great disingenuity, but told him, however, he had a kind- ness for him, and that if he would take plantain juice he should be well of one sort of fits, but he should carry the other to his grave ; the poor man having by this somewhat recovered himself, asked the spectre whether by the juice of plantain he meant that of the leaves or roots ? It replied, the roots. Then it asked him whether he did not know him? He answered, no ; it replied, I am such a one ; the man answered, he had been long dead ; I have been dead, said the spectre or ghost, seven years, and you know that I lived a loose life, and ever since I have been hurried up and down in a restless condi- d. c. f 66 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES tion with the company you saw, and shall be to the day of judgment ; then he proceeded to tell him, that had he acknowledged God in his ways, he had not suffered such severe things by their means ; and further said, you never prayed to God before that day you met with this company in the fields. This relation was sent to Dr. Henry More by Mr. E. Fowler, who said, Mr. Greatrix told it several persons ; the lord Orrery also owned the truth of it : and Mr. Greatrix told it to Dr. Henry More himself, who particularly inquired of Mr. Greatrix about the man's being carried up into the air, above men's heads in the room, and he did expressly affirm that he was an eyewitness thereof. A vision which happened to the ingenious and learned Dr. Donne, may not improperly be here in- serted. Mr. Isaac Walton, writing the life of the said doctor, tells us, that the doctor and his wife, living with sir Robert Drury, who gave them a free entertainment at his house in Dury-lane, it hap- pened that the lord Haye was by king James sent in an embassy to the French king, Henry IV., whom sir Robert resolved to accompany, and engaged Dr. Donne to go with them, whose wife was then with child, at sir Robert's house- Two days after their arrival at Paris, Dr. Donne was left alone in that room in which sir Robert and he and some other friends had dined together. To this place sir Robert returned within half an hour ; and as he left so he found Dr. Donne alone, but in such an ecstacy, and so altered in his looks, as amazed sir Robert to behold him, insomuch that he earnestly desired Dr. Donne to declare what had befallen him in the short time of his absence. To which Dr. Donne was not able to make a present answer ; but after a long and perplexed pause, did at last say, I have seen a dreadful vision, since I saw you; I have seen my , OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 67 dear wife pass twice by me, through this room, with her hair hanging about her shoulders, and a dead child in her arms ; this I have seen since I saw you. To which sir Robert replied, sure, sir, you have slept since I saw you, and this is the result of some melancholy dream, which I desire you to forget, for you are now awake. To which Dr. Donne's reply was, I cannot be surer that I now live than that I have not slept since I saw you, and am as sure at her second appearing she stopped and looked me in the face and vanished. Rest and sleep had not altered Dr. Donne's opinion the next day ; for he then affirmed this vision with a more deliberate and so confirmed a confidence, that he inclined sir Robert to a faint belief that the vision was true, who immediately sent a servant to Drury house, with a charge to hasten back and bring him word whether Mrs. Donne were alive ; and if alive, what condition she was in as to her health. The twelfth day the messenger returned with this account; that he found and left Mrs. Donne very sad and sick in bed, and that after a long and dangerous labour she had been delivered of a dead child, and upon examination the abortion proved to be the same day, and about the very hour that Dr. Donne affirmed he saw her pass by in his chamber. Mr. Walton adds this as a re- lation which will beget some wonder, and well it may, for most of our world are at present possessed with an opinion that visions and miracles are ceased, and though it is most certain that two lutes being both strung and tuned to an equal pitch, and then one played upon, the other, that is not touched, being laid upon the table at a fit distance will, like an echo to a trumpet, warble a faint, audible harmony in answer to the same tune, yet many will not believe that there is any such thing as a sympathy with souls, &c. f2 68 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES SECTION II. I shall next relate some little histories to show what perception men have had of spirits by the sense of hearing. For, as Wierus says, spirits ap- pear sometimes invisibly, so that only a sound, voice, or noise, is perceived by men, viz., a stroke, knock- ing, whistling, sneezing, groaning, lamenting, or clapping of the hands, to make men attent to inquire or answer. In Luther's Colloquia Mensalia, &c, set forth in Latin, at Frankfort, anno 1557, it being a different collection from that of Aurifaber, which is translated from high Dutch into English. We have the follow- ing relation : — It happened in Prussia, that as a certain boy was born, there presently came to him a genius, or what you please to call it, for I leave it to men's judgments, who had so faithful a care of the infant, that there was no need either of mother or servant ; and, as he grew up, he had a like care of him ; he went to school with him, but so, that he could never be seen either by himself, or any others in all his life. Afterwards he travelled into Italy, he accompanied him, and, whensoever any evil was like to happen to him, either on the road or in the inn, he was perceived to foretell it by some touch or stroke ; he drew off his boots as a servant ; if he turned his journey another way, he continued with him, having the same care of him in foretelling evil ; at length he was made a canon ; and as, on a time, he was sitting and feasting with his friends in much jollity, a vehement stroke was struck on a sudden on the table, so that they were all terrified ; presently the canon said to his friends, be not afraid, some great OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 69 evil hangs over my head. The next day he fell into a great fever, and the fit continued on him for three whole days, till he died, miserably. Captain Henry Bell, in his narrative prefixed to Luther's Table, printed in English, anno 1652, having acquainted us how the German copy printed of it had been discovered under ground, where it had lain hid fifty-two years, that edition having been suppressed by an edict of the emperor Rudolphus the second, so that it was death for any person to keep a copy thereof ; and having told us that Cas- parus van Spar, a German gentleman, with whom he was familiarly acquainted, while he negotiated affairs in Germany for king James the first, was the person that discovered it, anno 1626, and trans- mitted it into England to him, and earnestly desired him to translate the said book into English, says, he accordingly set upon the translation of it many times, but was always hindered from proceeding in it by some intervening business. About six weeks after he had received the copy, being in bed with his wife, one night, between twelve and one of the clock, she being asleep, but himself awake, there appeared to him an ancient man standing at his bed-side, ar- rayed all in white, having a long and broad white beard hanging down to his girdle, who taking him by his right ear, said thus to him : Sirrah ! will you not take time to translate that book which is sent unto you out of Germany ? I will shortly provide for you both place and time to do it ; and then he vanished. Hereupon, being much affrighted, he fell into an extreme sweat, so that his wife awaking and finding him all over wet, she asked him what he ailed ? He told her what he had seen and heard ; but he never regarded visions nor dreams, and so the same fell out of his mind. But a fort- night after, being on a Sunday; at his lodging in 70 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES King-street, Westminster, at dinner with his wife, two messengers were sent from the whole council- board, with a warrant to carry him to the Gate- house, Westminster, there to be kept till further order from the lords of the council ; upon which warrant he was kept there ten whole years close prisoner, where he spent five years of it in translating the said book, having good cause to be mindful of the old man's saying: I will shortly provide for you both place and time to translate it. Though the perception of spirits chiefly affects the hearing and seeing faculties, yet are not the other senses without some participation of these genial objects, whether good or evil; for, as St. Austin says, the evil work of the devil creeps through all the passages of the senses ; he presents himself in figures, applies himself to colours, ad* heres to sounds, introduces odours, infuses himself in savours, and fills all the passages of intelligence ; sometimes cruelly tormenting with grief and fear, sometimes sportingly diverting man or taunting with mocks ; and on the other hand, as the learned Walter Hilton, a great master of contemplative life, in his Scale of Perfection sets forth, that ap- pearances or representations to the corporeal senses may be both good and evil. But before I condude upon this head, to give still more weight and authority to the perception men have had of these genii, both by the senses of hear- ing and seeing, I will relate two very remarkable fragments of history of this kind, told us by persons who demand our credit, and done within the me- mory of our grandfathers and fathers. The first is concerning that duke of Buckingham who was stabbed by Felton, August the twenty- third, 1628. Mr. Lilly, the astrologer, in his book entituled OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 71 Monarchy, or no Monarchy, in England, printed in quarto, 1651; having mentioned the duke of Buckingham, writes as follows : Since I am upon the death of Buckingham, I shall relate a true story, of his being admonished often of the death he should die, in this manner: — An aged gentleman, one Parker, as I now re- member, having formerly belonged unto the duke, or of great acquaintance with the duke's father, and now retired, had a demon appeared several times to him in the shape of sir George Villiers, the duke's father : this demon walked many times in Parker's bedchamber, without any action of terror, noise, hurt, or speech ; but at last, one night, broke out in these words : Mr. Parker, I know you loved me formerly, and my son George at this time very well, I would have you go from me, you know me very well to be his father, old sir George Villiers of Leicestershire, and acquaint him with these and these particulars, &c. ; and that he above all refrain the council and company of such and such, whom he then nominated, or else he will come to destruc- tion, and that suddenly. Parker, though a very discreet man, partly imagined himself in a dream all this time ; and being unwilling to proceed upon no better grounds, forbore addressing himself to the duke ; for he conceived, if he should acquaint the duke with the words of his father, and the man- ner of his appearance to him, such apparitions be- ing not usual, he should be laughed at, and thought to dote, in regard he was aged. Some few nights past without further trouble to the old man, but not very many nights after, old sir George Villiers ap- peared again, walked quick and furiously in the room, seemed angry with Parker, and at last said, Mr. Parker, I thought you had been my friend so much, and loved my son George so well, that you 72 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES would have acquainted him with what I desired, but I know you have not done it ; by all the friendship that ever was betwixt you and me, and the great respect you bear my son, I desire you to deliver what I formerly commanded you to my son. The old man seeing himself thus solicited, promised the demon he would, but first argued it thus, that the duke was not easy to be spoken withal, and that he would account him a vain man to come with such a message from the dead ; nor did he conceive the duke would give any credit to him ; to which the demon thus answered : If he will not believe you have this discourse from me, tell him of such a secret, and named it, which he knows none in the world ever knew but myself and him. Mr. Parker being now well satisfied that he was not asleep, and that the apparition was not a vain delusion, took a fit opportunity, and seriously acquainted the duke with his father's words and the manner of his appa- rition. The duke laughed heartily at the relation, which put old Parker to a stand, but at last he as- sumed courage, and told the duke that he ac- quainted his father's ghost with what he found now to be true, viz., scorn and derision ; But, my lord, says he, your father bid me acquaint you by this token, and he said it was such as none in the world but your two selves did yet know. Hereat the duke was amazed and much astonished, but took no warn- ing or notice thereof, keeping the same company still, advising with such counsellors, and performing such actions as his father by Parker countermanded. Shortly after, old sir George Villiers, in a very quiet but sorrowful posture, appears again to Parker, and said, Mr. Parker, I know you delivered my words to George my son, I thank you for so doing, but he slighted them, and now I only request this more at your hands, that once again you repair to my son, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 73 and tell him that if he will not amend, and follow the counsel I have given him, this knife or dagger, and with that he pulled a knife or dagger from under his gown, shall end him ; and do you Mr. Parker set your house in order, for you shall die at such a time. Mr. Parker once more engaged, though very unwillingly, to acquaint the duke with the last message, and so did ; but the duke desired him to trouble him no further with such messages and dreams, and told him he perceived he was now an old man and doted ; and within a month after, meeting 3Ir. Parker on Lambeth bridge, said, now, Mr. Parker, what say you of your dream ? Who only returned ; Sir, I wish it may never have suc- cess, &c. But within six weeks after, he was stabbed with a knife, according to his father's ad- monition beforehand, and Mr. Parker died soon after he had seen the dream or vision performed. This relation is inserted also in the great lord Clarendon's History, and in sir R. Baker's Chronicle. The lord Clarendon, in his History, vol. i. lib. i., having given some relations, says, that amongst others, there was one, meaning this of Parker, which was upon a better foundation of credit than usually such discourses are founded upon. And he tells us that Parker was an officer in the king's wardrobe in Windsor castle, of a good reputation for honesty and discretion, and then about the age of fifty years or more. This man had, in his youth been bred in a school in the parish where sir George Villiers, the father of the duke lived, and had been much cherished and obliged in that season of his age by the said sir George, whom afterwards he never saw. About six months before the miser- able end of the duke of Buckingham the apparition was seen ? After the third appearance, he made a journey to London, where the court then was ; he 74 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES was very well known to sir Ralph Freeman, one of the masters of the requests, who had married a lady that was near allied to the duke, and was himself well received by him. He informed the duke; with the reputation and honesty of the man, and sir Ralph Freeman carried the man the next morning, by five of the clock, to Lambeth, ac- cording to the duke's appointment, and there pre- sented him to the duke, who received him cour- teously at his landing, and walked in conference near an hour with him, and sir Ralph's and the duke's servants at such a distance that they heard not a word ; but sir Ralph always fixed his eyes on the duke, who sometimes spoke with great com- motion and disorder ; and that the man told sir Ralph in their return over the water, that when he mentioned those particulars that were to gain him credit, the duke's colour changed, and he swore he could come to that knowledge only by the devil ; for that those particulars were known only to himself and to one person more, who, he was sure, would never speak of them. So far the lord Clarendon. I will now subjoin an authentic relation, which Mr. Beaumont tells us at the end of his book of Genii, or Familiar Spirits, printed in the year 1705, he had just before received from the mouth of the then bishop of Gloucester himself. It is as follows, word for word : — Sir Charles Lee, by his first lady, had only one daughter, of which she died in childbirth ; and when she died, her sister, the lady Everard, desired to have the education of the child ; and she was by her very well educated till she was marriageable ; and a match was concluded for her with sir William Perkins, but was then prevented in an extraordinary manner. Upon a Thursday night, she thinking she saw a light in her chamber after she was in bed, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 75 knocked for her maid, who presently came to her ; and she asked why she left a candle burning in her chamber ? The maid said she left none, and there was none, but what she brought with her at that time. Then she said it was the fire ; but that the maid told her was quite out, and said she believed it was only a dream : whereupon she said it might be so, and composed herself again to sleep ; but about two of the clock she was awakened again, and saw the apparition of a little woman between her curtain and her pillow, who told her she was her mother, and that she was happy, and that by twelve of the clock that day she should be with her ; whereupon, she knocked again for her maid, called for her clothes, and when she was dressed, went into her closet, and came not out again till nine; and then brought out with her a letter, sealed, to her father, brought it to her aunt, the lady Everard, told her what had happened, and de- sired that, as soon as she was dead, it might be sent to him ; but the lady thought she was sud- denly fallen mad; and thereupon sent presently away to Chelmsford for a physician and surgeon, who both came immediately, but the physician could discern no indication of what the lady ima- gined, or of any indisposition of her body ; notwith- standing, the lady would needs have her let blood, which was done accordingly ; and when the young woman had patiently let them do what they would with her, she desired that the chaplain might be called to read prayers, and when prayers were ended* she took her guitar and psalm book, and sat down upon a chair without arms, and played and sung so melodiously and admirably, that her music master, who was then there, admired at it ; and near the stroke of twelve, she rose and sat herself down in a great chair with arms, and presently fetching a 76 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES strong breathing or two, immediately expired, and was so suddenly cold as was much wondered at by the physician and surgeon. She died at Waltham, in Essex, three miles from Chelmsford ; and the letter was sent to sir Charles, at his house in War- wickshire ; but he was so afflicted with the death of his daughter, that he came not till she was buried : but when he came he caused her to be taken up, and to be buried by her mother at Edmonton, as she desired in her letter. This was about the year one thousand six hundred and sixty- two or sixty- three ; and this relation the right reverend the lord bishop of Gloucester had from sir Charles Lee him- self; and Mr. Beaumont printed it in his book above mentioned, from the bishop's own mouth. The relations which I have given above, are not like the trifling accounts too often given of these things, and therefore causing grave ones to be ridi- culed in common with them. They are of that na- ture, that, whoever attempts to ridicule them, will, instead of turning them into jest, become the ob- ject of ridicule himself. The first story, which has in it such amazing cir- cumstances, and such uncommon and dreadful inci- dents concerning the butler in Ireland, is, as the reader sees, attested by no less a personage than the earl of Orrery, two bishops, and many other noblemen and gentleman being present and eye- witnesses of what the earl said. What greater tes- timony would the most incredulous have ? They say such things are told for interest. What interest could an earl and many noblemen have in promot- ing such an imposture? The incredulous say, likewise, great and learned men delight sometimes in putting frauds upon the world, and after laugh at their credulity. Would a number of noble lay- men choose two prelates to carry on such a fraud ; OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. i 7 i and would two pious bishops probably combine with several, and some servants there present, in spread- ; ing such a deceit ? It is past believing, and it de- mands the strictest of moral faith that can be given to the most unquestioned history that the pen of man ever wrote. The second story is founded, first, upon the ex- perience of one of the most ingenious men of that age, Dr. Donne, and then upon the proof made by his friend sir Robert Drury, who could at first scarce believe it ; and shall we doubt the credit of men, whose company, for their credit be it spoken, a British ambassador was proud of gaining ? The third story is told by Luther himself, who began the great work of the Reformation. The fourth is told by one that was a king's public minister, and told from his own trial of the matter, where he could have no interest in the telling it. The fifth is related by those great historians, the lord Clarendon and sir Richard Baker, as a truth relied upon by themselves, and fit to be credited by their readers. The sixth and last was related to Mr. Beaumont, . by the lord bishop of Gloucester, who received the account from sir Charles Lee himself, to whose granddaughter the matter happened. Men who will not believe such things as these, so well attested to us, and given us by such author- ities, because they did not see them themselves, nor anything of the like nature, ought not only to deny the demon of Socrates, but that there was such a man as Socrates himself; they should not dispute the genii of Caesar, Cicero, Brutus, Marc Antony, but avow that there were never any such men existing upon earth, and overthrow all credible history whatsoever. Meanwhile, all men, but those who run such lengths in their fantastical incredu- 78 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES lity, will, from the facts above mentioned, rest satis- fied that there are such things as evil and good genii, and that men have sometimes a commerce with them by all their senses, particularly those of seeing and hearing, and will not therefore be startled at the strange fragments of histories which I am going to relate of our young Duncan Campbell, and look upon some wonderful adventures which he performed by the intervention of his familiar de- mon or genius, as falsehoods, only because they are uncommon and surprising, more especially since they were not done in a corner, but by an open way of profession of a predictor of things, in the face of the metropolis of London, where he settled young, as will appear in the progress of his life. However, some people, notwithstanding all this, may allege, that though a man may have a genius appear to him, so as to convey into his mind, through his senses, the knowledge of things that are to come to pass, yet this happens but on very eminent and extraordinary occasions. The mur- der, for example, of a prime minister, and the favourite of a monarch, in such a manner as it was performed on the great Buckingham, by Felton, was a thing so uncommon, that it might perhaps deserve, by the permission of Heaven, an uncom- mon prediction ; the others likewise are instances eminent in their way, particularly that of the lady Everard's niece; for that young lady being then marriageable, and a treaty for that end being on foot with sir William Perkins, the Divine Provi- dence foreseeing that such a state might call away her thoughts, hitherto bent on him and spiritual affairs, and fix them on the trifles of this world, might perhaps permit her to be called by a holy mo- ther to the state of happiness she before she enjoyed, lest her daughter's mind should change, and she go OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. iV into the ways of a sinner. But if these superemi- nent, these scarce and rare examples, may be ad- mitted of man's holding a conversation with the spiritualized beings of another world ; it will, how- ever, be far below the dignity of human reason, methinks, to make such large concessions to people who pretend to converse that wonderful way, as to allow them the credit of being able to do it upon every slight occasion, and every indifferent occur- rence of human life. I cannot help acknowledging, that a man of wis- dom may at first thought, make such an objection ; but reflection will presently retract it, and the same good sense that taught him to make an objection so well upon the first thought, will teach him, upon se- cond thoughts, to acquiesce in the answer. Infants may have, no doubt, the benefit of such an attending genius, as well as people more ad- vanced in years ; as may be seen in one of the in- stances, which is a very famous one, relating to the boy born in Prussia, who was attended by one con- stantly, from the time of his birth to his death. Besides, it is a mistake in the understanding to imagine, that death, which is the determination and end of life, is of more consequence to be known than the manner of regulating that life ; for in reality, according to the right way of considering, death, or the determination of a man's life, derives its importance from the steps which he took in the due regulation of it ; and therefore every the least step proper to be taken for the due regulation of life, is of more consequence to be known than the death of a person, though this at first sight carries the face of significance, and the other nothing bet- ter than the look of a trifle. Marriage, for exam- ple, is a step in life of the utmost importance, whe- ther we consider that estate with regard to this, or 80 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES the next world. Death is but the finishing of one person, but marriage may be the introducing of many into the world with happiness ; it is therefore a thing of more importance to be known before- hand, and consequently more worthy of the com- munication of a genius, to the man with whom he conversed. Posidonius tells us, that a certain Rhodian dying, nominated six of his equals, and said who should die first, who next, and so on, and the event answered the prediction ; why then, though some people are apt to make a jest of it, may not a man, by the intervention of his good genius, tell a woman that is to have six husbands, who she shall have first, who next, and so on, and the event answer the prediction ? If men of learning may acquire such knowledge as to at- tain to extraordinary things by their ordinary facul- ties, why may not ordinary things be taught others in this extraordinary way ? For will anybody say that it is easier for a man to accommodate himself to the knowledge of a demon or genius, than for a demon or genius to accommodate himself to the knowledge of a man ? Certain it is indeed that if this good genius, that induces a man with a prophetic kind of science, be anything resembling a good angel, the primary end of his being permitted to direct mankind must consist in things relating more to their welfare hereafter ; yet I know not why they may not sometimes inspire, or openly di- rect them in human knowledge, and in things relat- ing to human life, so they are of a good tendency ; more especially since such a good inspiration may be a counterbalance to the bad knowledge which some have been inspired with by evil spirits. I would not be thought to go too far in a point of this nature, and have therefore, though perhaps I could say much more if I followed entirely my own OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 81 private opinion, and would venture to introduce it here, in order to communicate it to others, and make it a public one, said no more on this head than what divines generally teach. But the most unexceptionable mistress, that teaches these things to be in nature, is experience, If we had very many people gifted this way, the ex- traordinary thing would have been become ordinary, and therefore I cannot help wondering that it should be so ordinary a thing for wise men themselves to wonder too much at things because they are extra- ordinary, and suspect them as frauds because they are uncommon. There has scarce been any period of time in which some person of this prophetic class has not existed, and has not been consulted by the greatest of men, and their predictions found at the long run to come true ; ignorant men always rise to their belief of them by experience, and the most learned men submit their great opinions to experience, but your men of middling talents, who make up their want of reason with bustling obstinacy and noisy contra- diction, have been and still continue to be their own opposers, and without discovering the reason for what they say, they content themselves with having the laugh on their sides, and barely affirming with- out proving, that it is a kind of ideal juggle and intellectual legerdemain, by which these modern predictors impose things upon the eye of reason, as the corporeal eye is imposed upon by sleight of hand ; but it is a strange thing that men of such quick reason cannot give us a sample of the frauds. Thus I remember to have read, I cannot tell where, a story of some courtiers, who, when a great artist of legerdemain was to act before the king, pre- tended to be so quick-sighted, that nothing he did should escape their discovery, were left by his d. c. g 82 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES nimble fingers in the dark, and forced at last with blushes to own they had no better eyes than other people. In a word, if people will be led by suspicions and remote possibilities of fraud and contrivance of such men, all historical truth shall be ended, when it consists not with a man's private humour or prejudice to admit it. Now, therefore, to prove by experience and undeniable testimonies, that these kind of genii will submit to little offices, in order to bring men to greater good, I will give the reader three or four curious passages that will set the reasonable reader at ease, and prepare him for reading the passages of Mr. Campbell's life with pleasure, and as a fine history of wonderful facts, that, though they seem to surpass belief, yet ought to have his credit. What in nature can be more trivial than for a spirit to employ himself in knocking on a morning at the wainscot by the bed's-head of a man who got drunk over-night, according to the way that such things are ordinarily explained ? And yet I shall give you such a relation of this, that not even the most devout and precise presbyterian will offer to call in question. For Mr. Baxter, in his Histo- rical Discourse of Apparitions, writes thus : — There is now in London an understanding, sober, pious man, oft one of my hearers, who has an elder brother, a gentleman of considerable rank, who, having formerly seemed pious, of late years does often fall into the sin of drunkenness ; he often lodges long together here in his brother's house ; and whensoever he is drunk and has slept himself sober, something knocks at his bed's-head, as if one knocked on a wainscot ; when they remove his bed it follows him ; besides other loud noises, on other parts where he is, that all the house hears ; they have often watched him, and kept his hands lest he OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 83 should do it himself. His brother has often told it me, and brought his wife, a discreet woman, to at- test it ; who avers, moreover, that as she watched him, she has seen his shoes under the bed taken up, and nothing visible to touch them. They brought the man himself to me, and when we asked him how he dare sin again after such a warning, he had no excuse : but being persons of quality, for some special reason of worldly interest I must, not name him. Two things are remarkable in this instance, says Mr. Baxter. First, what a powerful thing temptation and fleshly concupiscence is, and what a hardened heart sin brings men to; if one rose from the dead to warn such sinners, it would not of itself persuade them. Secondly, says Mr. Baxter, it poses me to think what kind of spirit this is that has such a care of this man's soul, which makes me hope he will reco- ver. Do good spirits dwell so near us, or are they sent on such messages ? or is it his guardian an- gel ? or is it the soul of some dead friend that suffers ? and yet retaining love to him, as Dives to his brethren, would have him saved ? God yet keeps such things from us in the dark. So far we have the authority of the renowned and famous Mr. Baxter, who makes this knocking of the spirit at the bed's-head, though what we commonly call frivolous, an important errand. Another relation of this kind was sent to Mr. John Beaumont, whom I myself personally know, and which he has inserted in his Account of Genii, or Familiar Spirits, in a letter by an ingenious and learned clergyman of Wiltshire, who had given him the relation likewise before, by word of mouth. It is as follows : — Near eighty years since, in the parish of Wilcot. g2 84 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES which is by Devizes, in the vicar's house, there was heard for a considerable time the sound of a bell constantly tolling every night. The occa- sion was this : A debauched person who lived in the parish came one night very late and demanded the keys of the church of the vicar, that he might ring a peal, which the vicar refused to let him have, alleging the unseasonableness of the time, and that he should, by granting his desires, give a disturb- ance to sir George Wroughton and his family, whose house adjoined to the churchyard. Upon this re- fusal, the fellow went away in a rage, threatening to be revenged of the vicar, and going some time after to Devizes, met with one Cantle or Cantlow, a person noted in those days for a wizard, and he tells him how the vicar had served him, and begs his help to be even with him. The reply Cantle made him was this ; Does he not love ringing ? he shall have enough of it : and from that time a bell began to toll in his house, and continued so to do till Cantle's death, who confessed at Fisherton gaol, in Sarum, where he was confined by king James during his life, that he caused that sound, and that it should be heard in that place during life. The thing was so notorious that persons came from all parts to hear it; and king James sent a gen- tleman from London on purpose to give him satis- faction concerning the truth of the report. Mr. Beaumont had likewise this story, as he tells, from the mouth of sir George Wroughton's own son ; with this remarkable circumstance, that if any in the house put their heads out of the window they could not hear the sound, but heard it immediately again as soon as they stood in the room. The reader here sees that good and bad genii exercise themselves upon very little functions, knocking at bed's-heads, and ringing of bells. For OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 85 proof of this we have the testimonies of two divines, of a man of quality and probity, and the same satis- faction that a learned king had, who sent to inquire into the matter ; and after this there can be I think no room for doubt. But to carry the point still nearer home ; inas- much as I know some will leave no stone unturned to make the extraordinary actions which the person whose life I write has performed, appear impos- tures, and inasmuch as for this end they may say, that though many people may have been gifted in this extraordinary manner, yet not so as to make a profession of it, and therefore from thence they take their suspicions, I shall in this place, to re- move every nicest scruple they can have touching this affair, give the reader one instance of this kind likewise, before I proceed with my history. There lived not many years since a very aged gentlewoman in London, in Water-lane, by Fleet- street, whose name was Pight, who was endowed with a prophetic spirit ; and the ingenious Mr. Beaumont, whom I personally knew, and who had a familiar genius himself, gives toe world this account of her. She was very well known, says he, to many persons of my acquaintance now living in London. Among others, a gentleman, whose candour I can no way suspect, has told me, that he often resorted to her as to an oracle ; and that as soon as he came into her presence, she would usually tell him, that she knew what he was coming for, for that she had seen his spirit for some time before; and without his saying anything to her, she would commonly tell him what the^business was which he came to con- sult her about, and what the event of it would be ; which he always found to fall out as she said, and many other persons now living can testify the like experience of her as to themselves. 86 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Before I conclude this chapter, I am willing to give the public one further little history of the like kind with the foregoing ones, with this only differ- ence, that if it be valued according to the worth the world has always attributed to the very ingeni- ous person whom it concerns, it will be far the most famous of them all, and therefore fittest to finish this chapter, and to crown this part of the work, in which we are showing that persons have had a perception of genii or spirits, not visible at the same time to others. The famous Torquatus Tasso, prince of the Ita- lian poets, and scarce inferior to the immortal Virgil himself, and who seems to enjoy the intermingled gifts of the most accurate judgment of this Latin poet, and the more fertile and copious invention and fancy of the Greek one, Homer, strongly as- serted his own experience in this kind. His life was written and published in French, anno 1692, by D. C. D. D. V. who, in his preface, tells us, that in what he writ he has followed chiefly the history given us in Italian by John Baptista Manso, a Nea- politan gentleman, who had been a very intimate friend to Tasso. In his life, among other things, he acquaints us that Tasso was naturally of that melancholic temperament, which has always made the greatest men, and that this temperament being aggravated by many hardships he had undergone, it made him sometimes beside himself, and that those melancholic vapours being despatched, he came again to himself, like those that return from fits of the falling sickness, his spirit being as free as before. That, near his latter end, he retired from the city of Naples to his friend Manso, at Bisaccia, a small town in the kingdom of Naples, where Manso had a considerable estate, and passed an au- tumn there in the diversions of the season. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL,. 87 And here the French author gives us an account of Tasso's sensible perception of a genius, as follows : As, after these amusements, he usually retired to his chamber, to entertain himself there with his friend 3Ianso, the latter had the opportunity to inquire into one of the most singular effects of Tasso's me- lancholy, of this heroic melancholy, as I may call it, which raised and brightened his spirit, so far it was from depressing or rendering it obscure ; and which, among the ancients, would have reasonably caused them to have ascribed a familiar demon to him, as to Socrates. They were often in a warm debate concerning this spirit, with which Tasso pre- tended to have so free a communication. I am too much your friend, said Manso to him one day, not to let you know what the world thinks of you con- cerning this thing, and what I think of it myself. Is it possible, that, being enlightened as you are, you should be fallen into so great a weakness as to think you have a familiar spirit ; and will you give your enemies that advantage, to be able to prove by your own acknowledgment, what they have already published to the world ? You know, they say, you did not publish your Dialogue of the Messenger, as a fiction ; but you would have men believe that the spirit which you make to speak there, was a real and true spirit ; hence men have drawn this injurious consequence, that your studies have em- broiled your imagination, so that there is made in it a confused mixture of the fictions of the poets, the inventions of the philosophers, and the doc- trine of religion. I am not ignorant, answered Tasso, of all that is spread abroad in the world, on the account of my Dialogue : I have taken care divers times to dis- abuse my friends, both by letter and word of mouth : I prevented even the malignity of my enemies, as 88 THE LIFE AND ADVENTTJKES you know, at the time I published my Dialogue. Men could not be ignorant that I composed it for the young prince of Mantua, to whom I would ex- plain, after an agreeable manner, the principal mys- teries of the Platonic philosophy. It was at Mantua itself, after my second flight from Ferrara, that I formed the idea of it, and I committed it to paper a little after my unfortunate return. I addressed it to this prince, and all men might have read in the epistle dedicatory, the protestation I there make, that . this dialogue, being writ according to the doctrine of the Platonics, which is not always conformable to revealed truths, men must not confound what I expose there as a philosopher, with what I believe as a Christian. This distinction is by so much the more reasonable, that at that time nothing extra- ordinary had happened to me, and I spake not of any apparition. This can be attested by all those with whom I lodged, or whom frequented in this voyage ; and therefore there is no reason for con- founding the fiction of my dialogue with what has happened to me since. I am persuaded of all you say to me, replied Manso ; but truly I cannot be of what you believe, at present, concerning yourself. Will you imagine that you are in commerce with a spirit ? And I ask you of what order is that spi- rit ? Shall we place him in the number of the rebels, whom their pride precipitated into the abyss ? or of the intelligences, who continued firm in faith and submission to their creator ? For there is no mean to take in the true religion, and we must not fall into the extravagances of the gnomes and sylphs of the cabalists. Now the spirit in question cannot be a demon ; you own that instead of inspiring you anything con- trary to piety and religion, he often fortifies in you the maxims of Christianity: he strengthens your OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 89 faith by profound reasonings, and has the same re- spect with you for sacred names and things. Nei- ther can you say that it is an angel ; for though you have always led a regular life, and far from all dis- soluteness ; though for some years past you have applied yourself, after a particular manner, to the duties of a true Christian, you will agree with me, that these sorts of favours are not common ; that a man must have attained to a high degree of sanc- tity, and not be far from the pureness of celestial spirits, to merit a familiar converse, and bear a har- mony with them. Believe me, there is nothing in all these discourses which you imagine you have with this spirit. You know, better than any man, those symptoms which the black humours where- with you are tormented causes in you. Your va- pours are the source of your visions, and yourself would not judge otherwise of another person to whom a like thing should happen ; and you will come to this in your own respect also, if you will make a mature reflection, and apply yourself to blot out, by an effort of reason, these imaginations which, the violence of your evil effect causes in you. You may have reason, replied Tasso, to think so of the things that pass in me ; but as to myself, who have a sens- ible perception of them, I am forced to reason after another manner. If it were true that the spirit did not show himself to me, but in the violent assault of my vapours ; if he offered to my imagination but wandering and confused species, without connection or due sequel ; if he used to me frivolous reasonings, which ended in nothing ; or if having begun some solid reasoning he broke it off on a sudden, and left me in darkness, I should believe with you, that all things that pass are but mere dreams and phantoms ; but it is quite otherwise. This spirit is a spirit of truth and reason, and of a truth so distinct, of a 90 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES reason so sublime, that he raises me often to know- ledges that are above all my reasonings, though they appear to me no less clear ; that he teaches me things which, in my most profound meditations, never came into my spirit, and which I never heard of any man, nor read in any book. This spirit there- fore is somewhat of real ; of whatsoever order he be, I hear him and see him, nevertheless for its being impossible for me to comprehend and define him. Manso did not yield to these facts, which Tasso would have passed for proofs ; he pressed him with new questions, which were not without answers. Since you will not believe me on my word, said Tasso to him another day, after having well dis- puted, I must convince you by your own eyes, that these things are not pure imaginations : and the next day, conversing together in the same cham- ber, Manso perceived that, on a sudden, he fixed his eyes towards the window, and that he stood, as it were, immoveable ; he called to him and jogged him many times, but instead of answering him ; see there the spirit, says Tasso, at last, that has been pleased to come and visit me, and to enter- tain himself with me ; look on him, and you will acknowledge the truth of what I say. Manso, somewhat surprised, cast his eyes to- wards the place he showed him, and perceived no- thing but the rays of the sun passing through the glass, nor did he see anything in all the chamber, though he cast his eyes round it with curiosity, and he desired him to show him the spirit, which he looked for in vain, while he heard Tasso speak with much vehemency. He declares in a letter which he writ concerning this to the admiral of Naples, that he really heard no other voice but Tasso's own ; but they were sometimes questions made by him to the pretended spirit, sometimes answers that he OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 91 made to the pretended questions of the spirit, and which were couched in such admirable terms, so efficacious, concerning subjects so elevated, and so extraordinary, that he was ravished with admira- tion, and dared not to interrupt him. He heark- ened, therefore, attentively, and being quite beside himself at this mysterious conversation, which ended at last by a recess of the spirit, as he found by the last words of Tasso ; after which, Tasso, turning himself to him, Well, said he, are your doubts at last dissipated ? On the contrary, answered Manso, I am more embroiled than ever ; I have truly heard wonderful things ; but you have not showed me what you promised me ; you have seen and heard, resumed Tasso, perhaps more than he stopped here ; and Manso, who could not recover himself of his surprise, and had his head filled with the ideas of this extraordinary entertainment, found himself not in a condition to press him further. Meanwhile he engaged himself not to speak a word to any man of these things he had heard, with a design to make them public, though he should have liberty granted him. They had many other conversations con- cerning this matter, after which Manso owned he was brought to that pass, that he knew not what to think or say, only, that if it were a weakness in his friend to believe these visions, he much feared it would prove contagious to him, and that he should become at last as credulous as himself. Dr. Beaumont, who is still living, and with whom I have had formerly some acquaintance myself, has set down, among the others, this relation at large concerning Tasso, and gives this reason for it : Be- cause, says the doctor, I think it contains a suffi- cient answer to what many learned friends have said to myself on the like occasion. Perhaps it may not be ungrateful to the reader, 92 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES if I subjoin here the short eulogium writ on Tasso, by the famous Thuanas, which is as follows : — Torquatus Tasso died about the forty-fifth year of his age, a man of a wonderful and prodigious wit, who was seized with an incurable fury in his youth, when he lived at the court of Ferrara, and nevertheless, in lucid intervals, he writ many things, both in verse and prose, with so much judgment, elegancy, and extreme correctness of style, that he turned at length that pity which many men had conceived for him, into an amazement ; while by that fury, which, in others, makes their minds out- rageous or dulls them, after it was over, his under- standing became as it were more purified, more ready in inventing things, more acute in aptly dis- posing them after they were invented, and more co- pious in adorning them with choice words and weight of sentences ; and that which a man of the soundest sense would scarce excogitate at his lei- sure, with the greatest labour and care imaginable, he, after a violent agitation of the mind set beside itself, naturally performed with a wonderful felicity, so that he did not seem struck with an alienation of mind, but with a divine fury. He that knows not these things, which all men know that have been in Italy, and concerning which himself some- times complains, though modestly, in his writings ; let him read his divine works, and he must neces- sarily conclude, either that I speak of another man than Tasso, or that these things were written by another man than Tasso. After having given my readers so many memora- ble accounts concerning the perception men have had in all ages, and still continue to have, of genii or familiar spirits, by all the senses, as seeing, hear- ing, &c, which accounts have been attested by men of the greatest learning and quality, if any of them OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 93 still remain dissatisfied, I am contented, and desire them, for their punishment, to lay down the book before they arrive at the more pleasant parts of it, which are yet to come, and not to read one tittle fur- ther. These unbelieving gentlemen shall then be at liberty, according as their different spirits dic- tate, to ridicule me in the same manner as many more learned and greater men than I have been satirized, before my time, by persons of a like infidel temper, who would fain pass incredulity upon the world as wisdom ; and they may, with all the freedom in nature, bestow upon me those merry appellations, which I very well know such extra- : ordinary freethinkers imagine to belong of right to any author, that either believes himself, or would possess the world with an opinion and belief, that there is such a thing as the holding commerce and conversation in this habitable world with genii and familiar spirits. I shall only first tell them all I , have to say to terminate the dispute between them ; and me. Those who, to give themselves the air and appear- : ance of men of solid wisdom and gravity, load other i men, who believe in spirits, with the titles of being i men of folly, levity, or melancholy, are desired to learn, that the same folly, as they are pleased to term it, of opinion, is to be found in the greatest men of learning that ever existed in the universe. i Let them, in order to be convinced of this, read Apuleius's book, de deo Socrat. ; Censorinus's book de die Nat. c. 3 ; Porphyrius, in his book de Absti- nentia; Agrippa, in his Treatise de Occult Phil. 1. 3, c. 22, and also c. 21 ; Natalis comes in his Myth. 1. 4, c. 3 ; Maraviglia, in his Pseudomantia. Dissertation. 9 and 11, and Animadversion. 10; Plato, in his Timceus et Cratylus ; Ammianus i Marcellinus's History, book 21 ; Hieronimus Car- 94 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES danus, in his book de Vita Propria, c. 47 ; the great Kircher, in his (Edipus JEgyptiacus, vol. iii. p. 474 ; Pausanius, in Cliac. Poster. ; that immor- tal orator, Cicero, lib. i. de Divinatione ; lib. ii. de Natura Deorum ; the Histoire Prodigieuse, written by Pere Arnault ; and a book entituled Lux e Tene- bris, which is a collection of modern visions and prophecies in Germany, by several persons, trans- lated into Latin by Jo. Amos. Comenius, printed at Amsterdam, 1655. And if they will be at the pains of having due recourse to these quotations, they will find that all these men, whose learning is unquestionable, and most of whom have been in a firm and undisputed possession of fame for many centuries, have all unanimously agreed in this opi- nion, how foolish soever they may think it, that there ever was and ever would be a communication held between some select men and genii, or familiar spirits. I must therefore desire their pardon, if I rejoice to see them remain wise by themselves, and that I continue to be esteemed by them a fool among so much good company. Others, out of a mere contempt of religion, or cowardly, for fear of being thought pusillanimous by men, turn bravos to heaven, and laugh at every notion of spirits as imbibed from the nurse, or im- posed upon us by priests, and may top these lines upon us with an elegant and a convincing magis- terial sneer, though the divine Socrates was of our opinion, and even experienced it to be true, hav- ing a genius himself: — The priests but finish what the nurse began, And thus the child imposes on the man. These bring into my mind a saying of sir Roger UEstrange on Seneca, which I must apply to So- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 95 crates : I join in opinion with a Christian heathen, while they remain heathen Christians. The third sort, out of a pretended veneration to religion and divinity, may call me superstitious and chimerical. To them I answer, I will continue chimerical and superstitious with St. Austin ; who gives the same opinion in his Civitate Dei with Ludovicus Vives ; let them be solider and more religious divines than St. Austin in disowning it. Thus I bid these austere critics heartily farewell ; but let my better-natured readers go on and find a new example of this conversation being held with the genii by our Duncan Campbell. 96 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES CHAP. VI. A narrative of Mr. CampbelVs coming to London and taking upon him the profession of a pre- dictor ; together with an account of many strange things that came to pass just as he foretold. To proceed on regularly with the life of young Duncan Campbell, I must let the reader know that he continued thus conversing with his little genius, as is set forth above in the dialogue he had with me, and predicting many things of the like nature, as I have described, till the year 1694, when he was just fourteen years of age, and then he left Scot- land. But before I come to speak of the manner of his departure from thence, his half native country, in- asmuch as his father was of that country, and he had his education there, what education he could have, being deaf and dumb. I must let the reader know that in the year 1692, my very good friend Mrs. Campbell, his mother-in-law, died, and left him there at Edinburgh, an orphan of twelve years of age. He was, I may venture to say, the most beautiful boy of that age I ever knew; and the sensible reader, who considers a child of good birth, with the misfortunes of being deaf and dumb, left father- less and motherless in the wide world, at twelve years old, without any competency for his mainte- nance and support, without any relations, in a man- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 97 ner, that knew him or assisted him ; all the little fortune his father had having been lost in the civil commotions in Scotland, as I have related above, need not hear me describe the compassion I and many more had for him ; because such a reader must certainly feel in his own bosom the same lively acts of pity and commiseration at the hearing of such a mishap as I had at the seeing it, or at least as I have now revived afresh within me at the relating it. However, it came so to pass, that a person of the name of Campbell, and who was a distant relation of the boy, though he himself was but in indiffer- ent circumstances, was resolved to see him provided for one way or another, in a manner somewhat suitable to his condition, and till that time to take the best care of him himself that he was able. Several ladies of quality who had known his per- fections coveted to make the boy one of their do- mestics, as a page, or a playfellow to their children ; for though he could not speak, he had such a vi- vacity in all his actions, such a sprightliness of be- haviour, and such a merriment accompanying all his gestures, that he afforded more entertainment than the prettiest and wittiest little prattlers at those years are wont to do. Mr. Campbell had certainly accepted of some of these fortunate offers for his little cousin, which were many of them likely to prove very advantageous, if it had not been put in his head by some friends, particularly myself, that if he had a mind to dispose of the boy in that manner, the best way he could take would be to present him to the late earl of Argyle, who for his namesake and for his father's sake, as well as the qualifications and endowments of the boy, would more naturally, according to all probability, take a greater pleasure and delight in him, and conse- d. c. h 98 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES quently provide better for him, and with a more lasting care, than any other person of quality that had a sudden liking to him, which might change, and took him as a stranger out of a bare curiosity. Mr. Campbell was by these reasons overruled in the disposal of his little dumb prophetical cousin, as he called him, and resolved that an offer should be made of him to the present illustrious duke of Argyle's most noble father. But it so unfortunately happened that the earl making very much a longer stay at London than was expected, Mr. Campbell, the uncle, sent our young Duncan Campbell, his nephew, handsomely accoutred, and with a hand- some sum of money in his pocket, by sea, with captain Meek of Kircaldie, to London, with letters of recommendation to the earl's favour, and just a few days before young Duncan arrived in London, the earl was set out on his journey to his seat in Scotland. I had now left him for near three years, not having seen him since about a year after his mo- ther's death ; and then coming to London, I had by mere accident an appointment to meet some Scotch gentlemen at the Buffalo at Charing-cross. There happened at that time to be a great concourse of Scotch nobility there at an entertainment ; and one of the ladies and gentlemen passing by and seeing one of my friends, desired him to come in, and told him both he and his companions should be very welcome to partake of the diversion. The lady told him they had got a lovely youth, a Scotch mi- racle, among them, that would give us exquisite delight, and write down to us all the occurrences of our future lives, and tell us our names upon our first appearance. The moment I heard of it, Duncan Campbell came into my head ; but as it is a thing not rare to be met with in Scotland for se- OP MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 99 cond-sighted persons to tell such things, and as the earl of Argyle was in the north, I thought little Duncan had been under his protection and with him, and did not dream of meeting with him there ; and accordingly told my friend, before I went in, that I believed I knew a lad in Scotland would ex- ceed this in foresight, let him be as dexterous in his art as he would. As soon as I entered the room, I was surprised to find myself encompassed and surrounded by a circle of the most beautiful females that ever my eyes beheld. In the centre of this angelic tribe was seated a heavenly youth, with the most winning comeliness of aspect that ever pleased the sight of any beholder of either sex ; his face was divinely fair, and tinged only with such a sprightly blush as a painter would use to colour the picture of health with, and the complexion was varnished over by a blooming like that of flourishing fruit, which had not yet felt the first nippings of an unkind and an uncivil air ; with this beauty was joined such a smiling draught of all the features as is the result of pleasantry and good humour. His eyes were large, full of lustre, majestic, well set, and the soul shone so in them, as told the spectators plainly how great was the inward vivacity of his genius ; the hair of his head was thick, and reclined far below his shoulders ; it was of a fine silver colour, and hung down in ringlets like the curling tendrils of a copious vine. He was by the women entertained, according to the claim which so many perfections joining in a youth just ripening into manhood might lay to the benevolent dispositions of the tender sex. One was holding the basin of water, another wash- ing a hand, a third with a towel drying his face, which another fair had greedily snatched the plea- sure of washing before, while a fourth was disposing h2 100 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES into order his silver hairs with an ivory comb, in a hand as white, and which a monarch might have been proud to have had so employed in adjusting the crown upon his head ; a fifth was setting into order his cravat ; a sixth stole a kiss, and blushed at the innocent pleasure, and mistook her own thoughts as if she kissed the angel and not the man ; and they all rather seemed to adore than to love him, as if they had taken him not for a person that enjoyed the frequent gift of the second-sight, but as if he had been some little prophet peculiarly inspired ; and while they all thus admired and won- dered, they all consulted him as an oracle. The surprise of seeing a young man so happy amidst the general concurring favours of the fair, made me be for awhile lost in a kind of delightful amazement, and the consideration of what bliss he was possessed made me scarce believe my own eyes, when they told me it was Duncan Campbell, who I had left an unhappy orphan at Edinburgh. But so it was, though he was much altered in stature, being now shot up pretty fast in his growth since I had seen him, and having gained a kind of a fixed comport- ment, such as we may daily observe in those who are taking leave of their minority, and stepping into a stage of maturer life. The first remarkable thing I knew him do in London, being in this splendid company, where there were so many undoubted witnesses of quality too, that had ocular proof of his predictions at that public tavern : I choose to record it here in the first place according to its due order. It was in the year 1698. Among this angelical class of beauties were Dr. W — lw — d's lady and daughter. Upon earth there was not sure a more beautiful creature than the daughter was ; she was the leading light of all OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 101 the sparkling tribe ; and Otway's character suits her exactly ; for she was among ten thousand eminently fair. One would imagine prosperous and lucky fortune was written upon her face, and that nothing unhappy could be read in so fair a book ; and it was therefore the unanimous consent of all, that by way of good omen to the rest, his predictions should begin to be opened luckily that day, and that therefore he should first of all be consulted abou her. Accordingly, the mother, to be satisfied of his talent before she proceeded to any other questions, asked him in writing if he knew the young lady, her name, and who she was. After a little rumi- nating and pondering upon the matter, and taking an exact view of the beauty, he wrote down her name, told Mrs. W — lw — d she was her daughter, and that her father was a doctor. Convinced by his so readily telling the name and quality of persons he had never seen in his lifetime, that fame had not given a false character of his capacity, she proceeded in her questions as to her future fortune. He gazed afresh at her very eagerly for some time, and his countenance during that time of viewing her seemed to be ruffled with abundance of disturbance and perplexity. We all imagined that the youth was a little touched at the heart himself with what he saw, and that instead of telling hers, he had met in her bright eyes with his own destiny, the destiny of being for ever made a slave and a captive to so many powerful and almost irresistible charms. At length, after having a long debate within himself, which we thought proceeded from the strugglings of love and passion, he fetching a great sigh, which still convinced us more, took the pen and wrote to Mrs. W — lw — d, that he begged to be excused, and that his pen might remain as dumb and 102 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES silent as his tongue on that affair. By this answer we concluded, one and all, that our former con- jectures were true, and we joined in pressing him the more earnestly to deliver his real and sincere opinion concerning the accidents upon which the future fortunes of her life were to turn and depend. He showed many mighty reluctances in the doing it ; and I have often since considered him in the same anguish as the late great Dr. Ratcliff, who was endeavouring by study to save a certain fair one, whom he loved with a vehemence of temper, and who was, as his reason told him, got far away be- yond the reach of the art of physic to recover. At last he wrote in plain terms that his backwardness and unwillingness to tell it, arose from his wishes that her fortune would be better than his certain foreknowledge of it told him it would be, and begged that we would rest satisfied with that ge- neral answer, since it w r as in so particular a case, where he himself was a well-wisher in vain, to the lady about whom he was consulted. The young lady herself thinking that if she knew any disasters that were to befall her she might, by knowing the nature of them beforehand, and the time when they were likely to happen, be able, by timely prudence and forecast, to avert those evils, with many be- seechings urged him to reveal the fatal secret. After many struggles to avoid it, and as many in- stances made to him both by mother and daughter for the discovery of his prescience in that point, he complied with very great difficulty; and blotting the paper with tears that trickled fast from his eyes, he gave her the lamentable scroll, containing the words that follow; viz., I wish it had not fallen to my lot to tell this lady, whom everybody that but once looks at her must admire, though they must not have leave to love, that she is not much longer OP MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 103 to be possessor of that lovely face, which gains her such a number of adorers. The smallpox will too soon turn a ravisher, and rifle all those sweets and charms that might be able to vanquish a king and to subdue a conqueror of mighty battles. Her reign is doomed, alas! to be as short as it is now great and universal ; I believe she has internal beauties of the mind, not the least inferior to those external excellencies of the body ; and she might, perhaps, by the power of her mind alone, be absolute queen of the affections of men, if the smallpox threatened not too surely to be her further enemy, and, not contented to de- stroy the face, was not perversely bent to destroy the whole woman. But I want words to express my sorrow. I would not tell it if you did not extort the baneful secret from my bosom. This fair creature, whose beauty would make one wish her immortal, will, by the cruel means of the smallpox, give us too sudden a proof of her mortality. But neither the mother nor herself ought too much to repine at this, seeing it appears to be the decree of Providence, which is always to be interpreted as meant for our good, and seeing it may be the means of translating her the sooner only to her kindred angels, whose beauty she so much resembles here on earth, and to be among the lowest class of whom, is better than being the greatest beauty of the world here below, and wearing an imperial crown. While I comfort you, I cannot help the force of nature, which makes me grieve myself; and I only give you, because you compel me to it, so particular and so exact an answer to so particular and so exacting a question. The mother, who took the paper, was prudent enough to conceal from the daughter what he said ; but nature would force its way, and bubbled from her eyes ; and the daughter perceiving that, pressed 104 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES hard to see it, and wept at the consideration that hard fate, though she knew not particularly what way, was to befall her. Never surely was anything so beautiful in tears, and I obtained of the mother to see the writing. At last, in general terms, to free her from a suspense of mind, it was told her that some trouble should happen to her that would diminish her beauty. She had courage enough to hear that misfortune with disdain, and crying if that be all, I am armed, I don't place much pride in that which I know age much shortly after destroy, if trouble did not do it before ; and she dried up her tears ; and, if what Mr. Bruyere says be true, viz., that the last thing a celebrated woman thinks of when she dies, is the loss of her beauty, she showed an admirable pattern of female philosophy, in bearing such a cruel prediction with such unspeakable mag- nanimity, as exceeded even the patience of stern stoicism, considering she was a woman, to whom beauty is more dear than life. If any evil, that is impending over people's heads, could be evaded by foreknowledge, or eluded by art, she had the fairest opportunity of having this prediction annulled, which would have been more to the satisfaction of the predictor than knowing it verified, than ever any woman had. Her mother was specifically told that the fatal distemper should be the smallpox ; her father was, and is still, a very eminent physician ; and distempers of that kind, es- pecially, are much more easily prevented by care, than cured by art, and by art more easily set aside, when there is a timely warning given to a physician to prepare the body against the danger of the poison, than when the distemper has once catched hold of a body at unawares, when it is unpurged of any gross humours that may accompany it. But neither the foreknowledge and caution of the mother, nor the OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 105 skill and wisdom of the great physician her father, were sufficient to ward off the approaching harm, that was written in the books of fate. Not many suns had finished their yearly courses, before she was forced to submit to the inevitable stroke of death, after the infectious and malicious malady had first ravaged her beauty, rioted in all her sweets, and made an odious deformed spectacle of the charmer of mankind. The death of the daughter worked hard upon the mother's bowels, and dragged her speedily after her, with a broken heart to the grave. This lady, whose fortune so great and so distin- guished an assembly had chosen to hear as a happy forerunner and lucky omen of all their own, which were to be asked afterwards in their turns, proving so contrary to their expectations, already unfortunate in the prediction, and having been in tears about the matter, disheartened all the rest of the beauties from consulting him further that day. The person who kept the tavern, by name Mrs. Irwin, alleged that as some people were very fortunate, and others un-. fortunate upon the same day, so one lady might be before told a mishap one minute, and another lady all the prosperity in nature the very next minute following, and therefore that what the unfortunate lady had heard was not to be taken as ominous, or as what could malignantly influence the day, neither ought it to be the least hinderance to any who had the curiosity of being let into the secrets of time beforehand. Howeve , whether the ladies were convinced or no ; if she prevailed over their belief in that point, she could not prevail over their humour, which, though they might not believe the former prediction omnious to themselves, was na- turally awed for fear of the like, peradventure, for a time, and so it was agreed, nemine contradicente, as 106 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES a witty lady wrote it down, That no more petitions should for that day be presented by any of that company to his dumb, yet oracular, majesty. Mrs. Irwin, however, would have her way ; said she did not presume to such honour as to call herself of that company, and that therefore she might consult him without breaking through the votes of the assembly* Many endeavoured to dissuade her, but as she was passionately fond of knowing future events ; and had a mighty itch to be very inquisitive with the oracle about what might happen, not only to herself, but her posterity ; it was agreed that he should have the liberty of satisfying her curiosity, since she presumed her fortune was sure to be so good, and was so for- ward and eager for the knowledge of it. But, alas ! such is too often the fantastical impulse of nature unluckily depraved, that it carries us often into wishes of knowing, what when known we would be glad to unknow again, and then our memory will not let us be untaught. Mrs. Irwin was at that time in a pretty commodi- ous way of business, everything in plenty round about her, and lived more like a person of distinc- tion, that kept such a cellar of wine, open house, and a free table, than like one who kept a tavern. She brought in her three pretty children, that were then almost babies, the youngest having not long been out of the nurse's arms, or trusted to the use of its own legs. These children she loved as a mother should love children ; they were the delight of her eyes all day, and the dream of her imagination all night. All the passions of her soul were confined to them ; she was never pleased but when they were so, and always angry if they were crossed; her whole pride was centered in them, and they were clothed and went attended more like the infants of a princess, than of a vintner's relict. The fortune of OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 107 these was what she had near at heart, and of which she was so eager of being immediately apprised. Her impatience was proportionable to the love she had for them, and which made her wish to foreknow all the happiness that was like to attend them. She sat cheerfully down, presented one to him, and smiling, wrote the question in general terms, viz., is this boy to be happy or unhappy. A melancholy look once more spread itself all over the face of the predictor, when he read the too inquisitive words, and he seemed mightily to regret being asked a question, to which he was by his talent of foreseeing compelled to give so unwelcome an answer. The colour of the poor woman flushed and vanished alternately, and very quick, and she looked not quite like the picture of despair, but a disconsolate woman, with little hopes on one hand, and great doubts and dismal fears on the other. She professed she read great evil in the troubles of his face, thanked him for his good nature, told him that they all knew that though he could foretell he could not alter the acts and decretals of fate, and therefore desired him to tell her the worst ; for that the mis- fortunes, were they never so great, would be less dreadful to her than remaining in the state of fear and suspension. He at last wrote down to her that great and unexpected and even unavoidable ac- cidents would involve the whole family in new ca- lamities, that the son she asked him about would have the bitterest task of hardship to go through withal, while he lived, and that to finish all more unhappily, he would be basely and maliciously brought to an untimely end, by some mortal enemy or other, but that she should not trouble herself so much on that head, she would never see it, for it would happen some years after she was departed from the world. This melancholy account closed up 108 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES the book of prediction s for that day, and put a sad stop to all the projected mirth and curiosity. Now I must tell the reader how and when the event answered the prediction. And in a few words it was thus ; poor Mrs. Irwin, by strange accidents, decayed in the world, and dying poor, her sons were forced to be put out apprentices to small trades, and the son, whom the above-mentioned prediction con- cerned, was, for stealing one cheese from a man in the Haymarket, severely prosecuted at the Old Bailey, and on Wednesday the 23rd of December, 1713, hanged at Tyburn, with several other criminals. The two foregoing passages are of so tragical a nature, that it is time I should relieve the minds of my readers with some histories of ladies who con- sulted him with more success and advantage, to whom his predictions were very entertaining, when they so came to pass in their favour, the relation whereof will consequently be agreeable to all readers who have within them a mixture of happy curiosity and good nature. Two ladies, who were the most remarkable beau- ties in London, and most courted, turned at the same time their thoughts to matrimony ; and being satiated, I may say wearied, with the pleasure of having continually after them a great number and variety of adorers, resolved each, about the same time, to make a choice of their several men, to whom they thought they could give most happi- ness, and from whom they might receive most. Their names, for they are both persons of distinc- tion, shall be Christallina and Urbana. Christallina was a virgin, and Urbana a young widow. Chris- tallina engrossed the eyes, the hearts, and the sighs of the whole court; and wherever she appeared, put any court lady out of her place, that had one before OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 109 in the heart of any youth ; and was the most cele- brated toast among the beau monde. Urbana's beauty made as terrible havock in the city ; all the citizens' daughters that had many admirers, and were in fair hopes of having husbands when they pleased themselves, as soon as Urbana had lost her old husband, found that they every day lost their lovers ; and it was a general fear among the pret- tiest maids, that they should remain maids still, as long as Urbana remained a widow. She was the monopolizer of city affection, and made many girls, that had large stocks of suitors, bankrupts in the trade of courtship, and broke some of their hearts, when her charms broke off their amours. Well, but the day was near at hand when both the belles of the court and the city damsels were to be freed from the ravages which these two tyrants, triumph- ant in beauty and insolent in charms, made among the harvest of love. Each had seen her proper man, to whom the enjoyment of her person was to be dedicated for life. But it being an affair of so lasting importance, each had a mind to be let into the knowledge of the consequences of such a choice, as far as possible, before they stepped into the irre- vocable state of matrimony. Both of them hap- pened to take it into their heads, that the best way to be entirely satisfied in their curiosity, was to have recourse to the great predictor of future occurrences, 31r. Duncan Campbell, whose fame was at that time spread pretty largely about the town. Christallina and Urbana were not acquainted with each other, only by the report which fame had made of beauty. They came to Mr. Campbell's on the same day, and both with the same resolution of keeping themselves concealed and under masks, that none of the com- pany of consulters, who happened to be there, might know who they were. It happened that on that 110 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES very day, just when they came, Mr. Campbell's rooms were more than ordinarily crowded with cu- rious clients of the fair sex, so that he was obliged to desire these two ladies, who expressed so much precaution against, and fear of having their persons discovered, to be contented with only one room be- tween them, and with much ado they complied with the request, and condescended to sit together incog. Distant compliments of gesture passed between them, the dress and comportment of each making them appear to be persons of figure and breeding, and after three or four modish courtesies, down they sat, without so much as once opening their lips, or intending so to do. The silence between them was very formal and profound for near half an hour, and nothing was to be heard but the snapping of fans, which they both did very tun ably, and with great harmony, and played as it were in concert. At last, one of the civil, well-bred mutes, hap- pening to sneeze, the other very gracefully bowed, and before she was well aware, out popped the words, Bless you, madam ; the fair sneezer returned the bow, with an — I thank you, madam. They found they did not know one another's voices, and they began to talk very merrily together, with pretty great confidence, and they taking a mutual liking from conversation, so much familiarity grew thereupon instantly between them, that they began not only to unmask, but to unbosom themselves to one another, and confess alternately all their se- crets. Christallina owned who she was, and told Urbana the beau and courtier that had her heart. Urbana as frankly declared that she was a widow, that she would not become the lady's rival, that she had pitched upon a second husband, an alderman of the city. Just by that time they had had their chat out, and wished one another the pleasure of a sue- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. Ill cessful prediction, it came to Christallina's turn to visit the dumb gentleman, and receive from his pen oracular answers to all the questions she had to pro- pose. Well, he accordingly satisfied her in every point she asked him about ; but while she was about this, one of Mr. Campbell's family going with Ur- bana to divert her a little, the widow railed at the virgin as a fool, to imagine that she should ever make a conquest of the brightest spark about the court, and then let fly some random bolts of malice to wound her reputation for chastity. Now it be- came the widow's turn to go and consult ; and the same person of Mr. Campbell's family in the mean time entertained Christallina. The maid was not behindhand with the widow ; she railed against the widow, represented her as sometimes a coquette, sometimes a lady of pleasure, sometimes a jilt, and lifted up her hands in wonder and amazement that Urbana should imagine so rich a man as an alder- man such a one, should fall to her lot. Thus Ur- bana swore and protested that Christallina could never arrive at the honour of being the wife to the courtly Secretarius, let Mr. Campbell flatter her as he would ; and Christallina vowed that Campbell must be a downright wizard if he foretold that such a one as Urbana would get alderman Stinrump as a husband, provided a thing so improbable should come to pass. However, it seems, Duncan had told them their own names and the names of their suitors, and told them further, how soon they were both to be mar- ried, and that too directly to their heart's content, as they said rejoicingly to themselves, and made their mutual gratulations. They went away each satisfied that she should have her own lover, but Christallina laughed at Mr. Campbell for assigning the alderman to Urbana ; 112 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES and Urbana laughed at him for promising the courtier to the arms of Christallina. This a pretty good figure of the tempers of two reigning toasts with regard to one another. First, their curiosity made them, from resolving to be concealed, discover one another wilfully ; from utter strangers grow as familiar as old friends in a moment, swear one another to secrecy, and ex- change the sentiments of their hearts together; and, from being friends, become envious of each other's enjoying a similitude of happiness ; the compliments made on either side face to face, were, upon the turning of the back, turned into reflections, de- traction, and ridicule; each was a self-lover and admirer of her own beauty and merit, and a despiser of the other's. Hower, Duncan Campbell proved at last to be in the right ; Urbana was wrong in her opinion of Christallina's want of power over Secretarius, and Christallina was as much out in her opinion that Urbana would miss in her aim of obtaining Stiff- rump ; for they both proved in the right of what they thought with regard to their own dear single persons, and were made happy according to their expectations, just at the time foretold by Mr. Campbell. Christallina's ill wishes did not hinder Urbana from being mistress of alderman Stiffrump's person and stock, nor did Urbana's hinder Christallina from showing herself a shining bride at the Ring, in Secretarius's gilded chariot, drawn by six prancers of the proud Belgian kind, with her half dozen of liveries with favours in their hats, wait- ing her return at the gate of Hyde park. Both loved and both envied, but both allowed of Mr. Campbell's foreknowledge. Having told you two very sorrowful passages, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 113 and one tolerably successful and entertaining ; I shall now relate to you another of my own know- ledge, that is mixed up with the grievous and the pleasant, and chequered, as it were, with the shade and the sunshine of fortune. Though there are vicissitudes in every stage of life under the sun, and not one ever ran continually on with the same series of prosperity ; yet those conditions which are the most liable to the signal alterations of fortune, are the conditions of mer- chants ; for professed gamesters I reckon in a man- ner as men of no condition of life at all ; but what comes under the statute of vagabonds. It was indeed, as the reader would guess, a wor- thy and a wealthy merchant, who was to run through these different circumstances of being. He came and visited our Mr. Campbell in the year 1707, he found him amidst a crowd of consulters ; and being very eager and solicitous to know his own fortune just at that critical juncture of time, he begged of him, if possible, to adjourn his other clients to the day following, and sacrifice that one wholly to his use ; which as it was probably more important than all the others together, so he wrote down that he would render the time spent about it more advan- tageous to Mr. Campbell ; and, bv way of previous encouragement, threw him down ten guineas as a retaining fee. Mr. Campbell, who held money in very little esteem, and valued it so much too little, that he has often had my reprehensions on that head, paused a little, and after looking earnestly in the gentle- man's face, and reading there, as I suppose, in that little space of time in general, according to the power of the second-sight, that what concerned him was highly momentous, wrote him this answer ; That he would comply with his requests, adjourn his D. C. I 114 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES other clients to the day following, and set apart all the remnant of that, till night, for inspecting the future occurrences of which he had a mind to be made a master. There is certainly a very keen appetite in curio- sity ; it cannot stay for satisfaction, it is pressing for its necessary repast, and is without all patience: hunger and thirst are not appetites more vehement and more hard and difficult to be repressed than that of curiosity ; nothing but the present now is able to allay it. A more expressive picture of this I never beheld than in the faces of some, and the murmurs and complaints of others, in that little inquisitive company, when the unwelcome note was given about signifying an adjournment for only twenty-four hours. The colour of a young woman there came and went a hundred times, if possible, in the space of two minutes ; she blushed like a red rose this mo- ment, and in the switch of an eyelash she was all over as pale as a white one : the suitor, whose name her heart had gone pit-a-pat for the space of an hour to be informed of from the pen of a seer, was now deferred a whole day longer ; she was once or twice within an ace of swooning away, but he comforted her in particular, by telling her, though he said it only by way of jest, that the day follow- ing would be a more lucky day to consult about husbands than the present that she came on. The answer was a kind of cordial to her hopes, and brought her a little better to herself. Two others, I remember, sisters and old maids, that it seems were misers, women ordinarily dressed and in blue aprons, and yet, by relation, worth no less than two thousand pounds each, were in a peck of troubles about his going and leaving them unsatisfied. They came upon an inquiry OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 1 ] 5 after goods that were stolen, and they complained that by next morning at that time, the thief might be got far enough off, and creep into so remote a corner, that he would put it beyond the power of the devil and the art of conjuration to find him out and bring him back again. The disturbance and anxiety that was to be seen in their countenances was just like that which is to be beheld in the face of a great losing gamester, when his all, his last great stake, lies upon the table, and is just sweeping off by another winning hand into his own hat. The next was a widow who bounced, because, as she pretended, he would not tell her what was best to do with her sons, and what profession it would be most happy for them to be put to ; but in reality all the cause of the widow's fuming and fretting, was not that she wanted to provide for her sons, but for herself; she wanted a second husband, and was not half so solicitous about being put in a way of educating those children she had already, as of knowing when she should be in a likelihood of getting more. This was certainly in her thoughts, or else she would never have flounced about in her weed, from one end of the room to the other, and all the while of her passion, smile by fits upon the merchant, and leer upon a young pretty Irish fellow that was there. The young Irishman made use of a little eye-language ; she grew appeased, went away in quite a good humour, scuttled too airily down stairs for a woman in her clothes, and the reason was certainly that she knew the matter before, w T hich we took notice of presently after : the Irishman went precipitately after her down stairs without taking his leave. But neither were the two misers for their gold, the • virgin for a first husband, nor the widow for a second, 1 half so eager as another married woman there was for i2 116 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES the death of her spouse. She had put the question in so expecting a manner for a lucky answer, and with so much keen desire appearing plainly in her looks, that no big-bellied woman was ever more eager for devouring fruit ; no young, hasty bridegroom, just married to a beauty, more impatient for night and enjoyment, than she was to know what she thought a more happy moment, the moment of her husband's last agonising gasp. As her expectation was the greatest, so was her disappointment too, and conse- quently her disorder upon his going and leaving her unresolved. She was frantic, raging, and im- placable ; she was in such a fury at the delay of putting off her answer to the day following, that in her fury she acted as if she would have given her- self an answer which of the two should die first, by choking herself upon the spot, with the indignation that swelled in her stomach and rose into her throat on that occasion. It may look like a romance to say it, but indeed they were forced to cut her lace, and then she threw out of the room with great pas- sion ; but yet had so much of the enraged wife left, beyond the enraged woman, as to return instantly up stairs, and signify very calmnly, she would be certain to be there next day, and beseeched ear- nestly that she might not meet with a second dis- appointment. All this hurry and bustle created a stay a little too tedious for the merchant, who began to be im- patient himself, especially when word was brought up that a fresh company was come in; but Mr. Campbell was denied to them ; and to put a stop to any more interruptions, the merchant and the dumb gentleman agreed to slip into a coach, drive to a tavern in the city, and settle matters of futurity over a bottle of French claret. The first thing done at the tavern, was Mr. Camp- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 117 bell's saluting him upon a piece of paper by his name, and drinking his health. The next paper held a discourse of condolence for a disaster that was past long since; namely, a great and considerable loss that happened to his family, in the dreadful conflagration of the city of London. In the third little dialogue which they had together, he told the merchant that losses and advantages were general topics, which a person unskilled in that art might venture to assign to any man of his profession ; it being next to im- possible that persons who traffic should not some- times gain, and sometimes lose. But, said Mr. Di ncan Campbell, I will sketch out particularly, and specify to you some future misfortunes with which you will unavoidably meet ; it is in your stars, it is in destiny, that you should have some trials, and therefore when you are forewarned, take a prudent care to be forearmed with patience, and by long- animity, and meekly and resignedly enduring your lot, render it more easy, since impatience can't avert it, and will only render it more burdensome and heavy. He gave these words to the merchant ; who pressed for his opinion that moment. By your leave, resuming the pen, said the dumb gentleman, in writing, we will have this bottle out first and tap a fresh one, that you may be warmed with courage enough to receive the first speculative onset of ill fortune, that I shall predict to you, with a good grace, and that may perhaps enable you to meet it when it comes to reduce itself into action, with a manful purpose and all becoming resolution. The merchant agreed to the proposal, and put on an air of the careless and indifferent as well as he could, to signify that he had no need to raise up an artificial courage from the auxiliary forces of the grape. But nature, when hard pressed, will break through all disguises, and not only notwithstanding the air of pleasantry he gave himself, which appeared forced 118 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES and constrained, but in spite of two or three spark- ling and enlivening bumpers, a cloud of care would ever and anon gather and shoot heavily cross his brow, though he laboured all he could to dispel it as quickly, and to keep fair weather in his countenance. Well, they had cracked the first bottle, and the second succeeded upon the table, and they called to blow a pipe together. This pipe Mr. Campbell found had a very ill effect ; it is certainly a pensive kind of instrument, and fills a mind, anything so disposed, with disturbing thoughts, black fumes, and me- lancholy vapours, as certainly as it doth the mouth with smoke. It plainly took away even the little sparks of vivacity which the wine had given before ; so he wrote for a truce of firing those sort of noxious guns any longer, and they laid down their arms by consent, and drank off the second bottle. A third immediately supplied its place, and at the first glass, the opening of the bottle, Mr. Campbell began to open to him his future case, in the following words : Sir, you have now some ventures at sea from such and such a place, to such a value. Don't be dis- comforted at the news which you certainly will have within three months, but it will be false at last, that they are by three different tempests made the prey of the great ocean, and enrich the bottom of the sea, the palace of Neptune. A worse storm than all these attends you at home, a wife who is and will be more the tempest of the house wherein she lives. The high and lofty winds of her vanity will blow down the pillars of your house and family ; the high tide of her extravagance will roll on like a resistless torrent, and leave you at low water, and the ebb of all your fortunes. This is the highest and the most cutting disaster that is to befall you ; your real ship- wreck is not foreign but domestic ; your bosom friend is to be your greatest foe, and even your powerful undoer for a time ; mark what I say, and OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 119 take courage, it shall be but for a time, provided you take courage ; it will upon that condition be only a short and wholesome taste of adversity given to you, that you may relish returning prosperity with virtue, and with a greater return of thanks to Him that dispenses it at pleasure to mankind. Remember, courage and resignation is what I advise you to ; use it, as becomes you, in your adversity, and believe that as I foretold that adversity, so I can foretell a prosperity will again be the consequence of those virtues ; and the more you feel the one ought not to cast you down, but raise your hopes the more, that he who foretold you that so exactly, could like- wise foretell you the other. The merchant was by this put into a great suspense of mind, but somewhat easier by the second prediction being annexed so kindly to the first fatal one. They crowned the night with a flask of Burgundy, and then parting, each went to their respective homes. The reader may perchance wonder how I, who make no mention of my being there, as in truth I was not at the tavern, should be able to relate this as of my own knowledge ; but if he pleases to have patience to the end of the story, he will have entire satisfaction in that point. About half a year after, the merchant came again, told him that his prediction was too far verified, to his very dear cost, and that he was now utterly undone, and beyond any visible means of a future recovery, and doubting lest the other fortunate part of the prediction was only told him by way of en- couragement, for groundless doubts and fears always attend a mind implunged in melancholy, besought him very earnestly to tell him candidly and sincerely if there was no real prospect of good, and rid him at once of the uneasiness of such a suspension of thought ; But pray too, said he, with all the vehe- 1 20 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES mence of repeated expostulation, satisfy me if there are any further hopes on this side the grave? To this Duncan Campbell made a short, but a very significant reply in writing. May the heavens preserve you from a threatening danger of life. Take care only of yourself, great and mighty care; and if you outlive Friday next, you will yet be great and more fortunate than ever you was in all the height of your former most flourishing space of life. He coloured inordinately when Duncan Campbell said Friday, and conjured him to tell him as parti- cularly as he could what he meant by Friday. He told him he could not particularise any further, but that great danger threatened him that day ; and that without extraordinary precaution it would prove fatal to him, even to death. He shook his head, and went away in a very sorrowful plight. Friday past, Saturday came, and on that very Saturday morning came likewise the joyful tidings, that what ventures of his were given over for lost at sea, were all come safe into the harbour. He came the moment he received those despatches from his agent, to Mr. Duncan Campbell's apartment, embraced him tenderly, and saluted him with much gladness of heart, before a great roomful of ladies, where I happened to be present at that time ; crying out in a loud voice, before he knew what he said, that Mr. Campbell had saved his life, that Friday was his birthday, and he had intended with a pistol to shoot himself that very day. The ladies thought him mad ; and he, recovered from his exstacy, said no more, but sat down, till Mr. Campbell dismissed all his clients ; and then we three went to the tavern together, where he told me the whole little history or narrative, just as is above related. The fame which Mr. Duncan Campbell got by the foregoing, and several other predictions of the OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 121 like kind, was become very large and extensive, and had spread itself into the remotest corners of this metropolis. The squares rung with it, it was whispered from one house to another through the more magnificent streets, where persons of quality and distinction reside; it catched every house in the city, like the news of stock from Exchange-alley ; it run noisily through the lanes and little thorough- fares where the poor inhabit ; it was the chat of the tea-table, and the babble of the streets; and the whole town, from the top to the bottom, was full of it. Whenever any reputation rises to a degree like this, let it be for what art or accomplishment, or on what account soever it will, malice, envy, and detrac- tion, are sure to be the immediate pursuers of it with full mouth, and to hunt it down, if possible, with full cry. Even the great Nostra-damus. though favoured by kings and queens, which always without any other reason creates enemies, was not more pursued by envy and detraction for his predictions in Paris, and throughout France, than our Duncan Campbell was in London, and even throughout England. Various, different, and many were the objections raised to blot his character and extenuate his fame, that when one was confuted another might not be wanting to supply its place, and so to main- tain a course and series of backbiting, according to the known maxim, Throw dirt, and if it does not stick, throw dirt continually, and some will stick. Neither is there any wonder; for a man, that has got applauders of all sorts and conditions, must expect condemners and detractors of all sorts and conditions likewise. If a lady of high degree, for example, should say smiling, though really thinking absolutely what she says, for fear of being thought over-credulous: Well, I vow, some things Mr. Campbell does are surprising after all ; they would 122 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES be apt to incline one to a belief that he is a wonder of a man ; for one would imagine the things he does impossible: why then a prude, with an assumed, supercilious air and a scornful tihee, would, in order to seem more wise than she was, reply: Laud, madam, it is more a wonder to me that you can be imposed upon so. I vow to Gad, madam, I would as soon consult an almanack maker, and pin my faith upon what he pricks down ; or believe, like my creed, in the cross which I make upon the hand of a gipsy. Lard, madam, I assure your ia'ship he knows no more than I do of you. I assure you so, and therefore believe me. He has it all by hearsay. If the lady that believed it, should reply, that if he had notice of every stranger by hearsay he must be a greater man than she suspected, and must keep more spies in pay than a prime minister; the prude's answer would be with a loud laugh, and giggling out these words ; Lard, madam, I assure you nothing can be more easy ; and so take it for granted. Because she was inclined to say so, and had the act of wisdom on her side, forsooth, that she appeared hard of belief, which some call hard to be put upon, and the other lady credulous, which some though believing upon good grounds are called, and so thought, foolish ; the prude's answer would be thought sufficient and convincing. Thus malice and folly, by dint of noise and impu- dence, and strong though empty assertions, often run down modesty and good sense. Among the common people it is the same, but only done in a different manner. For example, an ordinary person that had consulted, might say, as he walked along, there goes the dumb gentleman who writes down any name of a stranger at first sight. Steps up a blunt fellow, that takes stubborness for sense, and says, that is a confounded lie ; he is a cheat and an OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 123 impostor, and you are one of his accomplices ; he will tell me my name, I suppose, if you tell it him first ; he is no more dumb than I am ; he can speak and hear as well as us ; I have been with those that say they have heard him ; I wish I and two or three more had him in our stable, and I warrant you with our cartwhips we would lick some words out of his chaps, as dumb as you call him. I tell you it is all a lie, and all a bite. If the other desires to be convinced for himself by his own experience, the rougher rogue, who perhaps has stronger sinewsthan theother, answers, if you lie any further I will knock you down ; and so he is the vulgar wit, and the mouth of the rabble-rout, and thus the detraction spreads below with very good success, as it does above in another kind. As there are two comical adventures in his life, which directly suit and correspond with the fore- going reflections, this seems the most proper place to insert them in. The first consists of a kind of mob- way of usage he met with from a fellow who got to be an officer in the army, but by the following behaviour will be found unworthy of the name and the commission. In the year 1701, a lady of good quality came and addressed herself to him much after the follow- ing manner. She told him she had choice of lovers, but preferred one above the rest ; but desired to know his name, and if she made him her choice what would be the subsequent fate of such a matri- mony. Mr. Duncan Campbell very readily gave her down in writing this plain and honest reply ; That of all her suitors she was most inclined to a captain, a distinguished officer, and a great beau, naming his name, and one that had a great many outward, engaging charms, sufficient to blind the eyes of any lady that was not thoroughly acquainted with his 124 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES manner of living. He therefore assured her, and thought himself bound, being conjured so to do, having received his fee, though there was danger in such plain and open predictions, that he was a vil- lain and a rogue in his heart, a profligate gamester, and that if she took him to her bed, she would only embrace her own ruin. The lady's woman, who was present, being in fee with the captain, resolv- ing to give intelligence, for fear the officer her so good friend should be disappointed in the siege, slily shuffled the papers into her pocket, and made a present of them to the military spark. Fired with indignation at the contents, he vowed revenge ; and in order to compass it, conspires with his female spy about the means. In fine, for fear of losing the lady, though he quarrelled with Duncan Campbell, a method was to be found out how to secure her by the very act of revenge. At last it was resolved to discover to her, that he had found out what she had been told by Mr. Campbell, but the way how he had been informed was to remain a secret. He did do so and ended his discovery with these words : — I desire, madam, that if I prove him an impostor, you would not believe a word he says. The lady agreed to so fair a proposal. Then the captain swore that he himself would never eat a piece of bread more till he had made Mr. Campbell eat his words ; nay, he insisted upon it that he would bring him to his tongue, and make him own by word of mouth, that what he had written before was false and ca- lumnious. To which the lady answered again, that, if he performed what he said, she would be convinced. This brave, military man, however, not relying upon his own single valour and prowess, to bring about so miraculous a thing as the making a person that was dumb to speak, he took with him for this end three lusty assistants to combine OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 125 with him in the assassination. The ambuscade was settled to be at the Five Bells tavern, in Wych-street, in the Strand. After the ambush was settled with so much false courage, the business of decoying Mr. Campbell into it was not practicable any other way than by sending out false colours. The lady's wo- man, who was by her own interest tied fast to the interest of the beau, was to play the trick of Delilah, and betray this deaf and dumb Samson, as he will appear to be a kind of one in the sequel of the story, into the hands of these Philistines. She smooths her face over with a complimenting lie from her mistress to Mr. Campbell, and acted her part of deceit so well that he promised to follow her to the Five Bells with all haste ; and so she scuttled back to prepare the captain, and to tell him how lucky she was in mischief; and how she drew him out by smiles into perdition. The short of the story is, when they got him in among them, they endea- voured to assassinate him ; but they missed of their aim ; yet it is certain they left him in a very ter- rible and bloody condition ; and the captain went away in as bad a plight as the person was left in, whom he assaulted so cowardly with numbers, and to such disadvantage. I was sent for to him upon this disaster, and the story was delivered to me thus, by one of the drawers of the tavern, when I inquired into it. They began to banter him, and speaking to him as if he heard, asked him if he knew his own fortune ; they told him it was to be beaten to death. This was an odd way of address- ing a deaf and dumb man. They added they would make him speak before they had done. The boy seeing he made no reply, but only smiled, thought what passed between them was a jest with an old acquaintance, and withdrew about his business. The door being fastened, however, before they be- 126 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES gan the honourable attack, they vouchsafed to write down their intent in the words above mentioned, which they had uttered before, to make sure that he should understand their meaning, and what this odd way of correction was for. All the while the maid who had brought him into it was peeping through a hole and watching the event, as appears afterwards. Mr. Campbell wrote them the following answer, viz., That he hoped for fair play, that he understood bear- garden as well as they ; but if a gentleman was amongst them he would expect gentlemanly usage. The rejoinder they made to this, consisted, it seems, not of words but of action. The officer in conjunc- tion with another ruffian, one of the strongest of the three he had brought, commenced the assault. As good luck would have it, he warded off their first blows, it seems, with tolerable success, and a wine quart pot standing upon the table, Duncan took to his arms, and at two or three quick blows, well ma- naged, and close laid in upon the assailants, felled them both to the ground. Here it was that the maid discovered her knowledge of it, and privity to the plot to the whole house ; for she no sooner sees the famous leader, the valiant captain, lie sprawling on the floor with bleeding temples, but she shrieked out with all the voice she could exert, Murder, murder, murder! Alarmed at this outcry, the master and all the attendants of the tavern scam- pered up stairs, burst into the room, and found Duncan Campbell struggling with the other two, and the quart pot still fast clenched in his hand, which they were endeavouring to wrench from him. The drawers rescued him out of their hands, and inquired into the matter. The maid in a fright confessed the whole thing. The officer and his associate rubbed their eyes as recovering from a stunning sleep, reeled as they went to rise, paid the OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 127 reckoning, and slunk pitifully away ; or, as the rakes' term for it is, they brushed off, and for all their odds had the worst of the lay. I, who had some authority with Mr. Campbell, by reason of my years, and the strict acquaintance I had with his mother, when I came and found him in that pickle, and had the whole relation told to me by the people of the house, though I could not forbear pitying him within my own mind, took upon me to reprehend him, and told him that these hardships would by Providence be daily permitted to fall upon him, for he met with them twenty times, while he continued in that irregular way of living and spending his time, that might be so precious to himself and many others, in drunkenness and de- bauchery ; and I think the lessons I wrote down to him upon that head, though a little severe just at that juncture, were notwithstanding well timed, and did, as I guessed they would, make a more solid impression in him that at any other. In all these scuffles, whether it is that being deaf and dumb an affront works deeper upon a man, and so renders him far more fierce or resolute, it must be said, that, though nature has been kind in making him very strong, robust, and active withal, yet he has bore some shocks, one would imagine, beyond the strength of a man, having sometimes got the better of five or six ruffians in rencounters of the like kind. The next banter he met with was in a gentler way, from an unbelieving lady, and yet she came off with very ill success, and the banter turned all upon herself in the end. A lady of distinction, whose name shall therefore be concealed in this place, came with two or three of her special friends, who took her for the most merry, innocent, spotless virgin upon earth, and whose modesty was never suspected in the least by 128 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES her relations or servants that were nearest about her ; after having rallied Mr. Campbell with seve- ral frivolous questions, doubting his capacity, and vexing and teasing him with gay impertinences be- yond all patience, was by him told, that he did not take fees in his profession to be made a jest of like a common fortuneteller, but to do real good to those who consulted him, as far as he was able by his predictions ; that he was treated with more re- spect by persons of a higher condition, though her own was very good, and so offered her guinea back again with a bow and a smile. She had a little more generosity of spirit than not to be a little nettled at the proffer she had caused by so coarse an usage. She affected appearing grave a little, and told him she would be serious for the future, and asked him to set down her name, which she had neglected before, to ask other questions that were nothing to the purpose. He promised to write it down, but pausing a little longer than ordinary about it, she returned to her former way of uncivil merriment and ungallant raillery. She repeated to him in three or four little scraps of paper, one after another, as fast as she could write them, the same words, viz., That he could not tell her name, nor whether she was maid, wife, or widow ; and laughed as if she would split her sides, triumphing to the rest of her companions over his ignorance and her own wit, as if she had posed him, and put him to an entire stand. But see what this overweening opi- nion of security ended in : the man of the second- sight was not to be so easily baffled. Vexed at being so disturbed, and coming out of his brown study, he reaches the paper and begins to write. Now it was the lady's turn to suffer, she had deserved hearty punishment, and it came into her hands with the note, to a degree of severity, as you will OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 129 perceive by the contents of it just now. She read it, and swooning away, dropped from her chair. The whole room being in a bustle, I, that was in the out- ward chamber, ran in : while Mr. Campbell was sprinkling water in her face, a lady snatched up the note to read it, at which he seemed mightily displeased ; I, therefore, who understood his signs, recovered it out of her hands by stratagem, and ran to burn it, which I did so quick that I was not dis- covered in the curiosity which I must own I satis- fied myself in by reading it first ; a curiosity raised too high by so particular an adventure, to be over- come in so little a time of thought, as I was to keep it in my hands, and so I came by the knowledge of it myself, without being informed by Mr. Campbell. This shows how a sudden curiosity, when there is not time given to think and correct it, may over- come a man as well as a woman ; for I was never over-curious in my life, and though I was pleased with the oddness of the adventure, I often blushed to myself since for the unmanly weakness of not being able to step with a note from one room to an- other to the fireside, without peeping into the con- tents of it. The contents of it were these : Ma- dam, since you provoke me, your name is . You are no widow, you are no wife, and yet you are no maid ; you have a child at nurse at such a place, by such a gentleman, and you were brought to bed in Leicestershire. The lady convinced by this answer of his strange and mystical power, and pleased with his civility in endeavouring to conceal from others the secret, after so many repeated pro- vocations, though she showed great disorder for that day, became one of his constant attenders some time after, and would not take any step in her affairs without his advice, which she often has said since, she found very much to her advantage. She d. c. k 130 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES was as serious in her dealings with him afterwards, and improved by being so, as she was gay and tur- bulent with him before, and smarted for it. In fine, she was a thorough convert, and a votary of his ; and the only jest she used afterwards to make, con- cerning him, was a civil witticism to his wife ; to whom she was wont, every now and then, smiling, to address herself after this manner : Your hus- band, madam, is a devil, but he is a very handsome, and a very civil one. Not long after this came another lady, with a like intent, to impose upon him ; and was resolved, as she owned, to have laughed him to scorn if she had succeeded in her attempt. She had very dexterously dressed herself in her woman's habit, and her woman in her own ; her footman squired the new-made lady in a very gentlemanly dress, hired for that purpose of a disguise, from Monmouth-street. The strange and unknown masqueraders entered Mr. Campbell's room with much art. The fellow was by nature of a clean make, and had a good look, and from fol- lowing a genteel master when he was young, copied his gait a little, and had some appearance of a mien, and a tolerable good air about him. But this being the first time of his being so fine, and he a little vain in his temper, he over-acted his part; he strutted too much ; he was as fond of his ruffles, his watch, his sword, his cane, and his snuffbox, as a boy of being newly put into breeches ; and viewed them all too often to be thought the possessor of any such things long. The affectation of the cham- bermaid was insufferable ; she had the toss of the head, the jut of the bum, the sidelong leer of the eye, the imperious look upon her lady, now de- graded into her woman, that she was intolerable, and a person without the gift of the second-sight would have guessed her to have been a pragmatical OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBFXL. 131 upstart, though it is very probable that during that time she fancied herself really better than her mis- tress ; the mistress acted her part of maid the best ; for it is easier for genteel modesty to act a low part, than for affected vanity to act a high one. She kept her distance like a servant, but would, to dis- guise things the better, be every now and then pert, according to their way, and give occasion to be chid. But there is an air of gentility inborn and inbred to some people ; and even when they aim to be awkward a certain grace will attend all their minutest actions and gestures, and command love, respect, and veneration. I must therefore own that there was not need of a man's being a conjurer to guess who ought to be the lady and who the maid ; but to know who absolutely was the lady, and who was the maid, did require that skill. For how many such real ladies have we that are made so from such upstarts, and how many genteel waiting- women of great descent that are born with a grace about them, and are bred to good manners. Mr. Campbell's art made him positive in the case ; he took the patches from the face of the maid, and placed them on the mistress's ; he pulled off her hood and scarf, and gave it the lady, and taking from the lady her riding-hood, gave it the maid in exchange ; for ladies at that time of day were not entered into that fashion of cloaking themselves. Then he wrote down that he should go out, and ought to send his maid in to undress them quite, and give the mistress her own clothes and the maid hers, and with a smile wrote down both their names, and commended her contrivance ; but after that it was remarked by the lady that he paid her less re- spect than she expected, and more to her footman, who was in gentleman's habit, whom he took by his side, and told a great many fine things ; whereas he k2 132 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES would tell the lady nothing further. The lady nettled at this, wrote to him that she had vanity enough to believe that she might be distinguished from her maid in any dress, but that he had shown his want of skill in not knowing who that gentleman was. Mr. Campbell told her her mistake in sharp terms; and begging her pardon, assured her he knew several chambermaids as genteel and as well- born as her, and many mistresses more awkward and worse born than her maid ; that he did not go therefore by the rule of guess and judging what ought to be, but by the rule of certainty and the knowledge of what actually was. She, however, unsatisfied with that answer, perplexed him mightily to know who the man was. He answered he would be a great man. The lady laughed scorn- fully, and said she wanted to know who he was, not what he would be. He answered again, he was her footman, but that she would have a worse. She grew warm, and desired to be informed, why, since he knew the fellow's condition, he respected her so little and him so much, and accused him of want of practising manners, if he had not want of knowledge. He answered, madam, since you will be asking questions too far, this footman will ad- vance himself to the degree of a gentleman, and have a woman of distinction to his wife ; while you will degrade yourself by a marriage to be the wife of a footman ; his ambition is laudable, your con- descension mean, therefore I give him the prefer- ence ; I have given you fair warning and wholesome advice, you may avoid your lot by prudence ; but his will certainly be what I tell you. This coming afterwards to pass exactly as was predicted, and his disappointing so many that had a mind to impose upon him, has rendered him pretty free from such wily contrivances since, though now OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 138 and then they have happened, but still to the mor- tification and disappointment of the contrivers. But as we have not pretended to say, with regard to these things, that he has his genius always at his elbow or his beck, to whisper in his ear the names of persons, and such little constant events as these ; so, that we may not be deemed to give a fabulous account of his life and adventures, we think our- selves bound to give the reader an insight into the particular power and capacity which he has for bringing about these particular performances, espe- cially that of writing down names of strangers at first sight, which I don't doubt will be done to the satisfaction of all persons who shall read the suc- ceeding chapter, concerning the gift of the second- sight. 134 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES CHAP. VII. Concerning the second- sight Mr. Martin lately published a book, entituled, A Description of the Western Isles of Scotland, called by the ancient geographers, Hebrides. It contains many curious particulars relating to the natural and civil history of those islands, with a map of them ; and in his preface he tells us that, perhaps, it is peculiar to those isles that they have never been described, till now, by any man that was a native of the country, or had travelled them, as himself has done ; and in the conclusion of the said preface he tells us, he has given here such an account of the second-sight as the nature of the thing will bear, which has always been reckoned sufficient among the unbiassed part of mankind ; but for those that will not be satisfied, they ought to oblige us with a new scheme, by which we may judge of matters of fact. The chief particulars he has given us concerning the second-sight, are here set down by way of abstract or epitome, that they may not be too tedious to the reader. 1 . In the second-sight, the vision makes such a lively impression on the seers, that they neither see nor think of anything else but the vision as long as it continues ; and then they appear pensive or jovial, according to the object which was presented to them. 2, At the sight of a vision the eyelids of the person are erected, and the eyes continue staring OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 135 till the object vanish, as has often been observed by the author and others present. 3. There is one in Skye, an acquaintance of whom observed, that when he sees a vision, the inner part of his eyelids turns so far upwards, that, after the object disappears, he must draw them down with his fingers, and sometimes employs others to draw them down, which he finds to be much the easier way. 4. The faculty of the second-sight does not lineally descend in. a family, as some imagine ; for he knows several parents that are endowed with it, but not their children, and so on the contrary ; neither is it acquired by any previous compact ; and after a strict inquiry, he could never learn from any among them that this faculty was communicable any way whatsoever. Note. That this account is differing from the account that is given by Mr. Aubrey, a gentleman of the Royal Society ; and I think Mr. Martin's reason here against the descent of this faculty from parents to children is not generally conclusive. For though he may know parents endowed with it and not children, and so vice versa, yet there may be parents who are endowed with it, being qualified, as Mr. Aubrey has said, viz., both being second- sighted, or even one to an extraordinary degree, whose children may have it by descent. And as to this faculty being any otherwise communicable, since the accounts differ, I must leave it to a further examination. o. The seer knows neither the object, time, nor place of a vision before it appears ; and the same object is often seen by different persons living at a considerable distance from one another. The true 136 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES way of judging as *o the time and circumstance of an object, is by observation ; for several persons of judgment, without this faculty, are more capable to judge of the design of a vision, than a novice that is a seer. As an object appears in the day or night, it w T ill come to pass sooner or later accordingly. 6. If an object be seen early in the morning, which is not frequent, it will be accomplished in a few hours afterwards ; if at noon, it will commonly be accomplished that very day ; if in the evening, perhaps that night ; if after candles be lighted, it will be accomplished that night ; it is later always in accomplishment by weeks, months, and sometimes years, according to the time of the night the vision is seen. 7. When a shroud is perceived about one, it is a sure prognostic of death ; the time is judged accord- ing to the height of it about the person ; for if it be not seen above the middle, death is not to be ex- pected for the spaee of a year, and perhaps some months longer ; and as it is frequently seen to ascend higher towards the head, death is concluded to be at hand in a few days, if not hours, as daily experience confirms. Examples of this kind were shown the author, when the persons, of whom the observations were made, enjoyed perfect health. There was one instance lately of a prediction of this kind, by a seer that was a novice, concerning the death of one of the author's acquaintance ; this was communicated to a few only, and with great confidence ; the author being one of the number, did not in the least regard it, till the death of the person, about the time foretold, confirmed to him the certainty of the prediction. The foresaid novice is now a skilful seer, as appears from many late instances ; he lives in the parish of St. Mary's, the most northern in Skye. OF ME. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 137 •8. If a woman be seen standing at a man's left hand, it is a presage that she will be his wife, whether they are married to others, or unmarried, at the time of the apparition. If two or three women are seen at once standing near a man's left hand, she that is next him will undoubtedly be his wife first, and so on, whether all three, or the man, be single or married at the time of the vision ; of which there are several late instances of the author's acquaintance. It is an ordinary thing for them to see a man, that is to come to the house shortly after; and though he be not of the seer's acquaintance yet he not only tells his name, but gives such a lively description of his stature, complexion, habit, &c, that upon his arrival he answers the character given of him in all respects. If the person so ap- pearing be one of the seer's acquaintance, he can tell by his countenance whether he comes in good or bad humour. The author has been seen thus, by seers of both sexes, at some hundreds of miles' distance ; some that saw him in this manner had never seen him personally, and it happened accord- ing to their visions, without any previous design of his to go to those places, his coming there being purely accidental ; and in the nineteenth page of his book he tells us, that Mr. Daniel Morrison, a mi- nister, told him, that upon his landing in the island Rona, the natives received him very affectionately, and addressed themselves to him with this salutation; God save you, Pilgrim ! you are heartily welcome here, for we have had repeated apparitions of your person amongst us ; viz., after the manner of the second-sight. 9. It is ordinary with them to see houses, gardens, and trees, in places void of all three, and this in process of time uses to be accomplished ; of which he gives an instance in the island of Skye. 138 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES 10. To see a spark of fire fall upon one's arm, t>r breast, is a forerunner of a dead child to be seen in the arms of those persons, of which there are seve- ral fresh instances. To see a seat empty at the time of one's sitting in it, is a presage of that person's death quickly after. When a novice, or one that has lately obtained the second-sight, sees a vision in the night-time without doors, and comes near a fire, he presently falls into a swoon. Some find themselves, as it were, in a crowd of people, having a corpse, which they carry along with them ; and after such visions the seers come in sweating, and describe the people that appeared ; if there are any of their acquaintance among them, they give an account of their names, and also of the bearers. But they know nothing concerning the Corpse. All those that have the second-sight, do not always see these visions at once, though they are together at the time ; but if one, who has this faculty, designedly touch his fellow seer, at the instant of a vision's appearing, then the second sees it as well as the first. 11. There is the way of foretelling death by a cry, that they call taisk, which some call a ivraith, in the lowland. They hear a loud cry without doors, exactly resembling the voice of some particu- lar person, whose death is foretold by it, of which he gives a late instance, which happened in the village Rigg 3 in Skye isle. 12. Things are also foretold by smelling some- times, as follows : Fish or flesh is frequently smelt in the fire, when at the same time neither of the two are in the house, or, in any probability, like to be had in it for some weeks or months. This smell OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 139 several persons have who are eDdued with the second-sight, and it is always accomplished soon after. 13. Children, horses, and cows, have the second- sight, as well as men and women advanced in years. That children see it, it is plain, from their crying aloud at the very instant that a corpse or any other vision appears to an ordinary seer ; of which he gives an instance in a child when himself was present. That horses likewise see it is very plain, from their violent and sudden starting, when the rider, or seer in company with them, sees a vision of any kind by night or day. It is observable of a horse, that he will not go forward that way, till he be led about at some distance from the common road, and then he is in a sweat ; he gives an instance of this in a horse in the Isle of Skye. That cows have the second-sight appears from this ; that if a woman milking a cow happens to see a vision by the second-sight, the cow runs away in a great fright at the same time, and will not be pacified for some time after. In reference to this, Paracelsus, torn. ix. 1. de arte presagd, writes thus; "Horses also have their auguries, who perceive, by their sight and smell, wandering spirits, witches, and spectres, and the like things ; and dogs both see and hear the same." Here in the next place the author answers ob- jections that have lately been made against the reality of the second-sight. First, it is objected, that these seers are visionary and melancholy people, who fancy they see things that do not appear to them or anybody else. He answers, the people of these isles, and parti- cularly the seers, are very temperate, and their diet is simple and moderate in quantity and quality ; so that their brains are not, in all probability, disordered 140 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES by undigested fumes of meat or drink. Both sexes are free from hysteric fits, convulsions, and several other distempers of that sort. There are no mad- men among them, nor any instance of self-murder. It is observed among them, that a man drunk never has a vision of the second-sight ; and he that is a visionary would discover himself in other things as well as in that ; nor are such as have the secoud- sight, judged to be visionaries by any of their friends or acquaintance. Secondly, it is objected, that there are none among the learned able to oblige the world with a satisfac- tory account of these visions ; therefore they are not to be believed. He answers, if everything of which the learned > are not able to give a satisfactory account, shall be condemned as false and impossible, we shall find many other things, generally believed, which must be rejected as such. Thirdly, it is objected, that the seers are impostors, and the people who believe them are credulous, and easy to be imposed upon. He answers, the seers are generally illiterate, and well-meaning people, and altogether void of design ; nor could he ever learn that any of them made the least gain of it ; neither is it reputable among them to have that faculty ; beside, the people of the Isles are not so credulous as to believe an impossibility, before the thing foretold be accomplished ; but when it actually comes to pass, afterwards it is not in their power to deny it, without offering violence to their senses and reason ; beside, if the seers were de- ceivers, can it be reasonable to imagine that all the islanders, who have not the second-sight, should combine together and offer violence to their under- standings and senses, to force themselves to believe a lie from age to age ? There are several persons OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 141 among them, whose birth and education raise them above the suspicion of concurring with an imposture merely to gratify an illiterate and contemptible sort of persons. Nor can a reasonable man believe, that children, horses, and cows, could be engaged in a combination to persuade the world of the reality of a second-sight. Every vision that is seen comes exactly to pass according to the rules of observation, though novices and heedless persons do not always judge by those rules ; concerning which he gives instances. There are visions seen by several persons, in whose days they are not accomplished ; and this is one of the reasons why some things have been seen, that are said never to have come to pass ; and there are also several visions seen, which are not under- stood till they are accomplished. The second- sight is not a late discovery, seen by one or two in a corner, or a remote isle ; but it is seen by many persons of both sexes, in several isles, separated about forty or fifty leagues from one another ; the inhabitants of many of these isles never had the least converse by word or writing ; and this faculty of seeing visions having continued, as we are informed by tradition, ever since the plantation of these isles, without being disproved by the nicest sceptic after the strictest inquiry, seems to be a clear proof of its reality. It is observable, that it was much more common twenty or thirty years ago than at present ; for one in ten does not see it now, that saw it then. The second-sight is not confined to the Western Isles alone, the author having an account that it is in several parts of Holland, but particularly in Bommel, where a woman has it, for which she is courted by some, and dreaded by others. She sees a smoke about one's face, which is the forerunner of the 142 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES death of a person so seen, and she actually foretold the deaths of several that lived there. She was living in that town a few winters ago. The second-sight is likewise in the Isle of Man, as appears by this instance : Captain Leathes, the chief commander of Belfast, in his voyage 1690, lost thirteen men by a violent storm ; and upon his land- ing in the Isle of Man, an ancient man, clerk to a parish there, told him immediately that he had lost thirteen men there ; the captain inquired how he came to the knowledge of that ; he answered that it was by thirteen lights, which he had seen come into the churchyard ; as Mr. Sacheverel tells us in his late description of the Isle of Man. Note, that this is like the sight of the corpse-candles in Wales, which is also well attested. Here the author adds many other instances con- cerning the second-sight, of which I shall set down only a few. A man in Knockow, in the parish of St. Mary's, the northernmost part of Skye, being in perfect health, and sitting with his fellow-servants at night, was on a sudden taken ill, dropped from his seat backward, and then fell a vomiting ; at which the family was much concerned, he having never been subject to the like before ; but he came to himself soon after, and had no sort of pain about him. One of the fa- mily, who was accustomed to see the second-sight, told them that the man's illness proceeded from a very strange cause, which was thus : An ill-natured woman, whom he named, who lives in the next adja- cent village of Bornskittag, came before him in a very angry and furious manner, her countenance full of passion, and her mouth full of reproaches, and threatened him with her head and hands, till he fell over, as you have seen him. This woman had a fancy for the man, but was like to be disap- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBEIX. 143 pointed as to her marrying of him. This instance told the author by the master of the family, and others who were present when it happened. r Norman Macleod, and some others, playing at tables, at a game called in Irish, Falmermore, wherein there are three of a side, and each of them throw the dice by turns, there happened to be one diffi- cult point in the disposing of one of the tablemen ; this obliged the gamester to deliberate before he was to change his man, since, upon the disposing of it, the winning or losing of the game depended ; at length the butler, who stood behind, advised the player where to place the man, with which he complied, and won the game. This being thought extraordinary, and sir Norman hearing one whisper him in the ear, asked who advised him so skilfully ? He answered it was the butler; but this seemed more strange, for it was generally thought he could not play at tables. Upon this sir Norman asked him how long it was since he had learned to play ? and the fellow owned that he had never played in his life, but that he saw the spirit Brownie, a spirit usually seen in that country, reaching his arm over the player's head, and touching the part with his finger wmere the tableman was to be placed. This was told the author by sir Norman, and others who happened to be present at the time. Daniel Bow, alias Black, an inhabitant of Born- skittag, who is one of the precisest seers in the Isles, foretold the death of a young woman in Min- ginis, within less than twenty-four hours before the time, and accordingly she died suddenly in the fields, though at the time of the prediction she was in perfect health ; but the shroud appearing close about her head, was the ground of his confidence that her death was at hand. The same person foretold the death of a child in 144 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES his master's arms, by seeing a spark of fire fall on his left arm; and this was likewise accomplished soon after the prediction. Some of the inhabitants of Harris, sailing round the Isle of Skye, with a design to go to the oppo- site mainland, were strangely surprised with an ap- parition of two men hanging down by the ropes that secured the mast, but could not conjecture what it meant ; they pursued their voyage, but the wind turning contrary, they were forced into Broadford, in the Isle of Skye, where they found sir Donald Macdonald keeping a sheriff's court, and two crimi- nals receiving sentence of death there. The ropes and mast of that very boat were made use of to hang those criminals. This was told the author by seve- ral, who had this instance related to them by the boat's crew. Several persons, living in a certain family, told the author that they had frequently seen two men standing at a gentlewoman's left hand, who was their master's daughter ; they told the men's names, and being her equals, it was not doubted but she would be married to one of them ; and perhaps to the other after the death of the first. Some time after a third man appeared, who seemed always to stand nearest to her of the three, but the seers did not know him, though they could describe him ex- actly ; and within some months after, this man who was seen last, actually came to the house, and fully answered the description given of him by those who never saw him but in a vision ; and he married the woman shortly after. They live in the Isle of Skye, and both themselves and others confirmed the truth of this instance when the author saw them. Archibald Macdonald, of the parish of St. Mary's, in the Isle of Skye, being reputed famous in his OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELlL. 145 skill of foretelling things to come, by the second- sight, happening to be in the village Knockow one night, and before supper, told the family that he had just then seen the strangest thing he ever saw in his life, viz., a man with an ugly long cap, always shaking his head ; but that the strangest of all was a little kind of a harp which he had, with four strings only, and that it had two hart's horns fixed in the front of it. All that heard this odd vision fell a laughing at Archibald, telling him that he was dreaming, or had not his wits about him, since he pretended to see a thing which had no being, and was not so much as heard of in any part of the world. Ail this could not alter Archibald's opi- nion, who told them that they must excuse him if he laughed at them after the accomplishment of the vision. Archibald returned to his own house, and within three or four days after, a man with a cap, harp, &c, came to the house, and the harp, strings, horns, and cap, answered the description of them at first view, and he shook his head when he played ; for he had two bells fixed to his cap. This harper was a poor man, who made himself a buffoon for his bread, and was never seen before in those parts, and at the time of the prediction he was in the Isle of Barray, which is about twenty leagues distant from that part of Skye. This rela- tion is vouched by Mr. Daniel Martin, and all his family, and such as were then present ; and they live in the village where this happened. One Daniel Nicholson, minister of St. Mary's, in Skye, the parish in which Mr. Archibald Mac- donald lived, told the author, that one Sunday, after sermon, at the chapel Uge, he took an occasion to inquire of Archibald, if he still retained that un- happy faculty of seeing the second-sight, and wished him to get rid of it if possible ; for, said he, it is D. C. Jj 146 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES no true character of a good man. Archibald was highly displeased, and answered that he hoped he was no more unhappy than his neighbours, for see- ing what they could not perceive. I had, said he, as serious thoughts as my neighbours in time of hearing a sermon to-day, and even then I saw a corpse laid on the ground, close to the pulpit ; and I assure you it will be accomplished shortly, for it was in the day-time. There were none in the pa- rish then sick, and few are buried at that little chapel, nay, sometimes, not one in a year. Yet when Mr. Nicholson returned to preach in the said chapel, a fortnight or three weeks after, he found one buried in the very spot named by Archi- bald. This story is vouched by Mr. Nicholson the minister, and several of the parishioners still living. Note, that it is counted by many an argument of somewhat evil attending upon this faculty of the second-sight, because there are instances given of some persons who have been freed of it upon using some Christian practices ; but I shall hereafter show that this opinion cannot be entirely true. Sir Norman Maclead, who has his residence in the Isle of Bernera, which lies between the isles of North Uist and Harris, went to the Isle of Skye about business, without appointing any time for his return ; his servants, in his absence, being altoge- ther in the large hall at night ; one „of them, who had the second-sight, told the rest they must re- move, for there would be abundance of other com- pany in the hall that night. One of his fellow-servants answered that there was very little likelihood of that, because of the darkness of the night, and the danger of coming through the rocks that lie round the isle ; but within an hour after, one of sir Nor- man's men came to the house, bidding them provide lights, &c. ? for his master had newly landed. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 147 Sir Norman being told of this, called for the seer and examined him about it. He answered, that he had seen the spirit Brownie, in human shape, come several times and make a show of carrying an old woman, that sat by the fire, to the door, and at last seemed to carry her out by neck and heels, which made him laugh heartily, and gave occasion to the rest to conclude him mad, to laugh so much without any reason. This instance was told the author by sir Norman himself. Four men from the Isle of Skye and Harris went to Barbadoes, and stayed there some years ; who, though they had wont to see the second-sight in their native country, never saw it in Barbadoes ; but upon their return to England, the first night after their landing, they saw the second-sight ; as the author was told by several of their acquaint- ance. John Morrison, who lives in Bernera, of Harris, wears the plant called fuga dcBinonum sewed in the neck of his coat, to prevent his seeing of visions, and says, he never saw any since he first carried that plant about him. A spirit, by the country people called Brownie, was frequently seen in all the most considerable families in the isles, and north of Scotland, in the shape of a tall man, having very long brown hair ; but within these twenty years past he has been seen but rarely. There were spirits also that appeared in the shape of women, horses, swine, cats, and some like fiery bulls, which would follow men in the fields ; but there have been but few instances of these for upwards of forty years past. These spirits used also to form sounds in the air, resembling those of a harp, pipes, crowing of a cock, and of the grinding of hand-mills ; and some- l2 148 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES times voices have been heard in the air at night, singing Irish songs ; the words of which songs some of the author's acquaintances still retain; one of them resembled the voice of a woman who died some time before, and the song related to her state in the other world. All these accounts the author says he had from persons of as great integrity as any are in the world. So far Mr. Martin, whose account is so long, that I have given the reader only a short abridgement thereof; and shall therefore satisfy myself, without relating any further pas- sages, by directing the reader to others also, learned men, who have written on the same subject. Lau- rentius Ananias printed a volume in Latin, at Ve- nice, anno 1581, about the nature of demons; where, in the third book, he writes concerning the second- sight. The learned Camerarius does the like, and names a person of his own acquaintance whom he testifies to have had that gift. St. Austin himself testifies something (not very different from what we now call the gift of the second-sight) of one Curina, who lived in the country of Hippo, in Africa. Bonaysteau tells us something like it in his Disc, de Excell. et Dig. Hominis, concerning the spirit of Hermotimus. So do likewise Hero- dotus and Maximus Tyrius, about the spirit of Ari- staeus. Cardan does the same in his De Rerum Variet. 1. 8. c. 84, of his kinsman Baptista Cardan, a student at Pavia. Baptista Fulgosus tells us of what we call the second-sight, in other words, in his Fact, et Diet. Memorab. 1. i. c. 6. Among our own countrymen, the lord Henry Howard, in the book he writ against supposed prophecies, in his seventeenth chapter, tells us a wonderful story of this kind of sight ; and sure that noble lord may be looked upon as an unexceptionable testimony, in a story he relates of his own knowledge, he having OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 149 otherwise little faith in things of this kind. Mr. Cotton Mather, a minister of New England, in his relation of the wonders of the invisible world, in- serted in his Ecclesiastical History of that country, printed in London, anno 1702, in folio, has given us several instances of this kind, as also of many other diabolical operations. Mr. Baxter's book con- cerning The Certainty of the World of Spirits, has the like proofs in it. Mr. Aubrey, fellow of the Royal Society, has written largely concerning second- sighted persons ; so has Mr. Beaumont, in his book of Genii and Familiar Spirits, who has collected al- most all the other accounts together; and many others, whose very names it would be tedious to recite. However, as there are a few more passages, very curious in themselves, I will venture so far upon the reader's patience, as not only to recite the names of the authors, but the accounts themselves, in as succinct and brief a manner as it is possible for any one to do. Mr. Th. May, in his History, lib. viii. writes, that an old man, like a hermit, second-sighted, took his leave of king James I. when he came into England ; he took little notice of prince Henry, but addressing himself to the duke of York, since king Charles I., fell a weeping to think what misfortunes he should undergo ; and that he should be one of the most miserable and most unhappy princes that ever was. A Scotch nobleman sent for one of these second- sighted men out of the Highlands, to give his judg- ment of the then great George Villiers, duke of Buckinghim. As soon as ever he saw him ; Pish, said he, he will come to nothing, I see a dagger in his breast; and he was stabbed in the breast by captain Felton, as has been at large recounted in some of the foregoing pages. 150 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Sir James Melvin hath several the like passages in his history. A certain old man in South Wales, told a great man there of the fortune of his family, and that there should not be a third male generation. It has fallen out accordingly. Sir William Dugdale with his own mouth in- formed several gentlemen, that major-general Mid- dleton (since lord) went into the Highlands of Scot- land to endeavour to make a party for king Charles I. An old gentleman, that was second -sighted, came and told him that his endeavour was good, but he would be unsuccessful ; and, moreover, that they would put the king to death ; and that several other attempts would be made, but all in vain ; but that his son would come in, but not reign in a long time; but would at last be restored. This lord Middleton had a great friendship with the laird Bocconi, and they made an agreement, that the first of them that died should appear to the other in ex- tremity. The lord Middleton was taken prisoner at Worcester fight, and was prisoner in the Tower of London, under three locks. Lying in his bed, pen- sive, Bocconi appeared to him ; my lord Middleton asked him if he were dead or alive ? He said, dead ; and that he was a ghost ; and told him that within three days he should escape, and he did so, in his wife's clothes ; when he had done his message he gave a frisk, and said — Givanni, Givanni, 'tis very strange, In the world to see so sudden a change ; and then gathered up and vanished. This account sir William Dugdale had from the bishop of Edin- burgh ; and this account he hath writ in a book of OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 1 e well and clearly explained to have been done ither by the intervention of his familiar spirit and genius, or by the power of the second-sighted faculty, ve must have recourse to the third means by which >nly such predictions and practices can be compassed, >efore we expound these new mysteries, which ap- pear like incredible riddles, and enigmas at the first; :nd this third means which we must have recourse o for expounding these strange acts of his, is a iue consideration of the force and power of natural nagic, which, together with a narrative of the acts, vhich he seems magically to bring about, will be the ubject of the following chapter. J 58 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES CHAP. VIII. But before we proceed to our disquisitions concern- ing the power and efficacy of natural magic, and examine what mysterious operations may be brought about and compassed by magical practices, and be- fore we take a further survey of what Mr. Campbell has performed in this kind, that relates to his pro- fession and the public part of his life, which concerns other people as well as himself; I shall here relate some singular adventures that he passed through in in his private life, and which regard only his own person. In order to this, I must return back to the year 1702, about which time some unaccountable turns of fortune attended him in his own private ca- pacity, which must be very surprising and entertain- ing to my readers, when they find a man, whose foresight was always so great a help and assistance to others, who consulted him in their own future affairs, helpless, as it has been an observation con- cerning all such men in the account of the second- sight, and blind in his own future affairs, tossed up and down by inevitable and spiteful accidents of fortune, and made the may-game of chance and hazard, as if that wayward and inconstant goddess was resolved to punish him, when she catched him on the blind side, for having such a quick insight and penetrating faculty in other people's matters, and scrutinizing too narrowly into her mysteries, and so sometimes preventing those fatal intentions of hers, into which she would fain lead many mortals hood- winked, and before they knew where they were. In this light, these mighty and famous seers seem to OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 159 be born for the benefit and felicity of others, but at the same time to be born to unhappiness themselves. And certainly, inasmuch as we consider them as useful and beneficial often, but always satisfactory to persons who are curious in their inquiries about their fortunes, it will be natural to those of us who have the least share of generosity in our minds, to vield our pity and compassion to them, when they are remarkably unfortunate themselves ; especially when that calamity seems more particularly to light upon them for their ability, and endeavour to consult the good fortune of other folks. About the above-mentioned year, 1702, Duncan Campbell grew a little tired of his profession ; such a multitude of followers troubled him, several of whom were wild youths and came to banter him, and many more too inquisitive females, to tease him with endless impertinences, and who, the more he told them, had still the more to ask, and whose cu- riosity was never to be satisfied : and besides this, he was so much envied, and had so many malicious artifices daily practised against him, that he resolved to leave off his profession. He had, I know, fol- lowed it pretty closely from the time I first saw him in London, which was, I think, in the beginning of the year 1698, till the year 1702, with very good success ; and in those few years he had got toge- ther a pretty round sum of money. Our young seer was now at man's estate, and had learned the notion that he was to be his own governor, so far as to be his own counsellor too in what road of life he was to take, and this consideration no doubt worked with a deeper impression on his mind, than it usually does on others that are in the same blossom and pride of manhood, because it might appear more natural for him to believe that he had a sufficient ability to be his own proper adviser, who had given 160 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES so many others, and some more aged than himself, counsel, with very good success. Now every expe- rienced person knows, that when manhood is yet green, it is still in the same dangerous condition as a young plant, which is liable to be warped by a thousand cross fortuitous accidents, if good mea- sures be not taken to support it against all the con- tingent shocks it may meet with from the weather or otherwise. Now it was his misfortune to be made averse to business, which he loved before, by having too much of it, and to be so soured by meet- ing with numerous perplexities and malicious rubs laid in his way by invidious people, (who are the useless and injurious busybodies that always repine at the good of others, and rejoice to do harm to the diligent and assiduous, though they reap no profit by it themselves,) that he was disgusted and de- terred entirely from the prosecution of a profession by which he got not only a competent but a copious and plentiful subsistence. Nay, indeed, this was an- other mischief arising to him from his having so much business, that he had got money enough to leave it off, when the perplexities of it had made him willing to do so, and to live very comfortably and handsomely, like a gentleman, without it, for a time ; and we know the youngest men are not wont to look the furthest before them, in matters that concern their own welfare. Now inasmuch as he had thus taken a disgust to business and applica- tion, and was surfeited, as I may say, with the per- plexities of it, it must be as natural for him, we know, to search for repose in the contrary extreme, viz., recreation and idleness, as it is for a man to seek rest after toil, to sleep after a day's labour, or to sit down after a long and tiresome walk. But there are two very distinct sorts of idleness, and two very different kinds of recreation ; there is a shame- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 161 fill idleness which is no better than downright sloth ; and there is a splendid kind of indolence, where a man having taken an aversion to the wea- risomeness of a business which properly belongs to him, neglects not however to employ his thoughts, when they are vacant from what they ought more chiefly to be about, in other matters not entirely un- profitable in life, the exercise of which he finds he can follow with more abundant ease and satisfaction. There are some sorts of recreations too that are mean, sordid, and base ; others that are very inno- cent, though very diverting, and that will give one the very next most valuable qualifications of a gen- tleman, after those which are obtained by a more serious application of the mind. The idea which I have already given my readers of our Duncan Campbell, will easily make them judge, before I tell them, which way, in these two ways, his genius would naturally lead him ; and that, when he grew an idle man, he would rather indulge himself with applying his mind to the shining trifles of life, than be wholly slothful and inactive ; and that when he diverted himself he would not do it after a sordid, base manner, as having a better taste and a relish for good company ; but that his recreations would still be the recreations of a gentleman. And just, accordingly, as my readers would naturally judge beforehand in his case, so it really happened. The moment he shook off business, and dismissed the thoughts of it, his genius led him to a very gallant way of life ; in his lodgings, in his entertainments, in paying and receiving visits, in coffee-houses, in ta- verns, in fencing -schools, in balls, and other public assemblies, in all ways, in fine, both at home and abroad, Duncan Campbell was a well-comported and civil fine gentleman ; he was a man of pleasure, and nothing of the man of business appeared about D. C. M 162 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES him. But a gentleman's life, without a gentleman's estate, however shining and pleasant it may be for a time, will certainly end in sorrow, if not in infamy ; and comparing life, as moralists do, to a day, one may safely pronounce this truth to all the splendid idlers I have mentioned, that if they have sunshiny weather till noon, yet the afternoon of their life will be very stormy, rainy, and uncomfortable, and per- haps just at the end of their journey, to carry on the metaphor throughout, close in the darkest kind of night. Of this, as I was a man of years and more experienced in the world than he, I took upon me to forewarn Mr. Campbell, as soon as I per- ceived the first dangerous fit of this elegant idle- ness had seized him. But when will young men, by so much the more headstrong as they have less of the beard, be guided and brought to learn ! and when shall we see that happy age, in which the grey heads of old men shall be clapped upon the shoulders of youth! I told him, that in this one thing he ought to consult me, and acknowledge me to be a true prophet, if I told him the end of the seeming merry steps in life he was now taking, would infallibly bring him to a labyrinth of difficul- ties, out of which if he extricated himself at all, he would at least find it a laborious piece of work. His taste had been already vitiated with the sweets which lay at the top of the bitter draught of fortune, and my honest rugged counsel came too late to pre- vail, when his fancy had decoyed and debauched his judgment, and carried it over into another inte- rest. I remember I writ down to him the moral story, where vicious Pleasure and Virtue are pic- tured by the philosopher to appear before Hercules, to court him into two several paths. I told him more particularly, since he had not an estate to go through with the gentlemanly life, as he called it, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 163 that, if he followed the alluring pleasures which endeavoured to tempt Hercules, he would involve himself at last in a whole heap of miseries, out of which it would be more than an Herculean labour for him to disentangle himself again. If he had been a man that could have ever heard with either, I would have told the reader in a very familiar idiom, that he turned the deaf ear to me ; for he did not mind one syllable nor tittle of the prescriptions I set down for him, no more than if he had never read them ; but, varying the phrase a little, I may say at least, when he should have looked upon my counsel with all the eyes he had, he turned the blind side upon it. I was resolved to make use of the revenge natural to a man of years, and there- fore applied that reproachful proverb to him, which we ancients delight much in making use of to youths that follow their own false and hot imagina- tions, and will not heed the cooler dictates of age, experience, and wisdom. Accordingly, I wrote down to him these words, and left him in a seeming passion : I am very well assured, young man, you think me that am old to be a fool ; but I that am old, absolutely know you who are a young fellow, to be a downright fool, and so I leave you to follow your own ways, till sad and woful experience teaches you to know it your own self, and makes you come to me to own it of your own accord. As I was going away, after this tart admonition and severe reprimand, I had a mind to observe his counte- nance, and I saw him smile, which I rightly con- strued to be done in contempt of the advice of age, and in the gaiety and fulness of conceit, which youth entertains of its own fond opinions and hair- brained rash resolves. He was got into the company of a very pretty set of gentlemen, whose fortunes were far superior to his ; but he followed the same gen- m 2 164 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES teel exercises, as fencing, &c, and made one at all their public entertainments ; and so being at an equal expense with those who could well afford to spend what they did out of their estates, he went on very pleasantly for a time, still spending, and never getting, without ever considering that it must, by inevitable consequence, fall to his lot at last to be entirely reduced to a state of indigence and want. And what commonly heightens the misfortune of such men, and so of all gentlemen's younger bro- thers, who live upon the ready money that is given them for their portions, is, that the prosperity they live in for a time gains them credit enough just to bring them in debt, and render them more miser- able than those very wretches who never had either any money or credit at all. They run themselves into debt out of shame, and to put off the evil day of ap- pearing ruined men as long as they can, and then, when their tempers are soured by adversity, they grow tired of their own lives ; and then, in a quarrel, they or some other gentleman, maybe, is run through, or else being hunted by bailiffs, they exercise their swords upon those pursuers. Thus where gentle- men will not consider their circumstances, their very prosperity is a cause of, and aggravates their misery ; their very pride, which was a decent pride at first, in keeping up and maintaining their credit, sub- jects them too often to the lowest and the meanest acts, and their courage, which was of a laudable kind, turns into a brutish and savage rage ; and all the fine, esteemed, flourishing, and happy gentleman ends, and is lost in the contemned, poor, and miser- able desperado, whose portion at last is confinement and a gaol, and sometimes even worse, and what I shall not so much as name here. Into many of these calamities Mr. Campbell had brought himself before it was long, by his heedlessness, and running, accord- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 165 ing to the wild dictates of youth, counter to all sound and wholesome advice. He had, it seems, run himself into debt, and one day as he was at a coffee-house, the sign of the Three Crowns, in Great Queen-street, in rushed four bailiffs upon him, who being directed by the creditor's wife, had watched him into that house, and told him they had a war- rant against him, and upon his not answering, they being unacquainted with his being deaf and dumb, offered to seize his sword. He startled at their offering of violence, and taking them for ruffians, which he had often met with, repelled the assaulters, and drawing his sword, as one man, more bold than the rest, closed in with him, he shortened his blade, and in the fall pinned the fellow through the shoul- der, and himself through the leg, to the floor. After that he stood at bay with all the four officers, when the most mischievous assailant of them all, the cre- ditor's wife, ventured to step into the fray, and very barbarously took hold of that nameless part of the man, for which, as she was a married woman, nature rnethinks should have taught her to have a greater tenderness, and almost squeezed and crushed those vitals to death. But at last he got free from them all, and was going away as fast as he could, not knowing what consequences might ensue. But the woman who aimed herself at committing murder, in the most savage and inhuman manner, ran out after him, crying out murder ! murder ! as loud as she could, and alarmed the whole street. The bai- liffs following the woman, and being bloody from head to foot, by means of the wound he received, gave credit to the outcry. The late earl Rivers' footmen happening to be at the door, ran imme- diately to stop the supposed murderer, and they indeed did take him at last, but perceived their mistake, and discovered that instead of being as- & 166 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES sistants in taking a man whom they thought to be a murderer endeavouring to make his escape from the hands of justice, they had only been tricked in by that false cry to be adjutants to a bailiff in retaking a gentleman, who, by so gallant a defence, had res- cued himself from the dangers of a prison ; and when they had discovered this their mistake they were mighty sorry for what they had done. The most active and busy among the earl's footmen was a Dutchman, and the earl happening to be in a room next the street, and hearing the outcry of murder, stepped to the window, and seeing his own servants in the midst of the bustle, examined the Dutchman how the matter was, and, being told it, he chid the man for being concerned in stopping a gentleman that was getting free from such trouble- some companions. But the Dutchman excused himself, like a Dutchman, by making a very merry blunder for a reply ; Sacramente, said he, to his lord, if I had thought they were bailiffs I would have fought for the poor dumb gentleman, but then why had he not told me they were bailiffs, my lord? In short, Duncan Campbell was carried off as their prisoner ; but the bailiff that was wounded was led back to the coffee-house, where he pretended the wound was mortal, and that he despaired of living an hour. The proverb however was of the fellow's side, and he recovered sooner than other people expected he could. As soon as all danger was over, an action for damages and smart money, as their term is, was brought against Mr. Campbell; the damages were exaggerated and the demand was so extravagant, that Duncan Campbell was neither able, just at that time, nor willing, had he been able, to pay so much, as he thought, in his own wrong, and having no bail, and being ashamed to make his OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 167 case known to his better sort of friends, who were both able and willing to help him at a dead lift, he was hurried away to gaol by the bailiffs, who showed such a malignant and insolent pleasure, as commonly attends powerful revenge, when they put him into the Marshalsea. There he lay in confine- ment six weeks, till at last four or five of his chief friends came by mere chance to hear of it ; imme- diately they consulted about his deliverance, and unanimously resolved to contribute for his enlarge- ment, and they accordingly went cross the water together, and procured it out of hand. Two of his benefactors were officers, and were just then going over to Flanders. Duncan Campbell, to whom they communicated their design, was re- solved to try his fortune in a military way, out of a roving kind of humour, raised in him partly by his having taken a sort of aversion to his own profession in town, and partly by his finding that he could not live, without following a profession, as he had done, any longer. He over a bottle frankly imparted his mind to them at large ; he signified to them that he hoped, since they had lately done him so great a favour in freeing him from one captivity, they would not think him too urgent if he pressed for one favour further, upon natures so generous as theirs, by whom he took as great a pleasure in being obliged, as he could receive in being capable of obliging others. He wrote to them that the favour he meant was to redeem him from another captivity, almost as irksome to him as that out of which they had lately ransomed him. This captivity, continued he, is being either forced to follow my old profession, which I have taken an entire disgust to, for a maintenance, or being forced to live in a narrower way than suits with my genius, and the better taste I have of higher life. Such a state, gentlemen, you 168 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES know, is more unpalatable than half-pay ; it is like either being forced to go upon the forlorn hope, or else like a man's being an entirely cashiered and broken officer, that had no younger brother's fortune, and no other support but his commission. Thus though you have set my body at liberty, my soul is still under an imprisonment, and will be till I leave England, and can find means of visiting Flanders, which I can do no otherwise than by the advantage of having you for my convoy. I have a mighty longing to experience some part of a military life, and I fancy, if you will grant me your interest, and introduce me to the valiant young lord Lome, and be spokesmen for a dumb man, I shall meet with a favourable reception ; and as for you, gentlemen, after having named that great patron and pattern of courage and conduct in the field, I can't doubt but the very name I bear, if you had not known me, would have made you taken me for a person of a military genius, and that I should do nothing but what would become a British soldier, and a gentle- man ; nothing, in fine, that should make you repent the recommendation. These generous and gallant friends of his, it seems, complied with his request, and promised they would make application for him to the lord Lome, and Duncan Campbell had nothing to do but to get his bag and baggage ready, and provide himself with a pass. His baggage was not very long a getting together, and he had it in tolerable good order, and as for his pass, a brother of the lord Forbes was so kind as to procure him one upon the first applica- tion Duncan made to him. Accordingly, in a few days afterwards, they went on board, and having a speedy and an easy passage, arrived soon at Rotterdam. Duncan met with some of his English acquaintance in that town, and his OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 169 mind being pretty much bent upon rambling, and seeing all the curiosities, customs, and humours he could, in all the foreign places he was to pass through, he went, out of a frolic, with some gentle- men, next day, in a boat to an adjacent village, to make merry over a homely Dutch entertainment, the intended repast being to consist of what the boors there count a great delicacy, brown bread and white beer. He walked out of sight from his com- pany, and they lost one another ; and strolling about by himself at an unseasonable hour, as they call it there after the bell has tolled, Duncan Campbell, who neither knew their laws, nor if he had, was ca- pable of being guided by the notice which their laws ordain, was taken into custody in the village, for that night, and carried away the next day to \Yilliamstadt, where he was taken for a spy, and put into a close imprisonment for three or four days. But some Scotch gentlemen, who had been in company with Mr. Campbell at Mr. Cloysterman's, a painter in Covent-garden, made their application to the magistrate and got him released ; he knew his friends the officers, that carried him over, were gone forward to the camp, and that there was no hope of finding them at Rotterdam, if he should go thither, and so he resolved, since he had had so many days punishment in Williamstadt, to have three or four days pleasure there too, by way of amends, before he would set out on his journey after his friends. But on the third night he got very much in drink ; and as he went very boisterously and disorderly along, a sentry challenged him ; and the want of the sense of hearing had like to have occasioned the loss of his life. The sentry fired at him and narrowly missed him ; he was taken prisoner, not without some re- sistance, which was so far innocent, as that he knew not any reason why he should be seized ; but very 170 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES troublesome and unwarrantable in so orderly a town ; so the governor's secretary, after the matter was examined into, judging it better for the unhappy gentleman's future safety, advised him to return home to his own country, and accordingly bespoke him a place in a Dutch ship called Yowfrow Catherine, for his passage to England. Duncan Campbell had taken up this humour of rambling, first, of his own accord, and the troubles which he had run himself into by it, we may reason- ably suppose had pretty well cured him of that ex- travagant itch ; and there is little doubt to be made but that he rejoiced very heartily when he was got on board the ship to return to England ; and that in his new resolutions he had reconciled himself to the prosecution of his former profession, and intended to set up for a predictor again as soon as he could arrive at London. But now fortune had not a mind to let him go off so ; he had had his own fancy for rambling, and now she was resolved to have hers, and to give him his bellyful of caprice. Accordingly, when the Dutch ship, called Yowfrow Catherine, was making the best of her road for London, and each person in the vessel was making merry, filled with the hopes of a quick and prosperous passage, a French privateer appeared in sight, crowding all the sails she could, and bearing towards them with all haste and diligence. The privateer was double- manned, and carried thirty guns ; the Dutch vessel was defenceless in comparison ; and the people on board had scarce time to think, and to deplore that they should be made a prey of, before they actually were so, and had reason enough given them for their sorrow. All the passengers, to a single man, were stripped, and had French seamen's jackets in exchange for their clothes. Duncan Campbell had now a taste given him of the fate of war, as well as OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. ] 7 1 of the humour of travelling, and wished himself again, I warrant him, among his greatest crowd of consulters, as tiresome as he thought business to be, instead of being in the middle of a crew of sea savages. The town where the dumb prisoner was at last confined was Denain. There happened to be some English friars there, who were told by the others who he was, and to them he applied himself in writing, and received from them a great deal of civil treatment. But a certain man of the order of Recollects, happening to see him there, who had known him in England, and what profession he followed, caused him to be called to question, as a man that made use of ill means to tell fortunes. When he was questioned by a whole society of these religious men, he made them such pertinent and satisfactory answers in writing, that he convinced them he had done nothing for which he deserved their reprimand ; and they unanimously acquitted him. The heads of his defence, as I have been informed, were these: — First, he alleged that the second-sight was in- born and inbred in some men ; and that every country had had examples of it more or less ; but that the country of Scotland, in which he was edu- cated from an infant, abounded the most of any with those sort of people ; and from thence he said he thought he might very naturally draw this con- clusion, that a faculty that was inborn and inbred to men, and grown almost a national faculty among a people who were remarkably honest, upright, and well-meaning people, could not, without some im- piety, be imputed to the possessors of it as a sin ; and when one of the fathers rejoined that it was remarked by several writers of the second-sight, that it must be therefore sinful, because it remained no longer among the people when the doctrines of 172 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Christianity were fully propagated, and trie light of the gospel increased among them ; and that after- wards it affected none but persons of vicious lives and an ill character ; to this objection Mr. Campbell replied, that he knew most (even ingenious) writers had made that remark concerning the second-sight, but begged leave to be excused, if he ventured to de- clare that it was no better than a vulgar and common error ; and the reasons were these, which he alleged in his own behalf; and to confirm his assertion, he told them men of undoubted probity, virtue, and learning, both of their own religion, viz., the Roman catholic, and also of the reformed religion, and in several nations, had been affected, and conti- nued all their lives to be affected, with this second- sighted power, and that there could be therefore no room to fix upon it the odious character of being a sinful and vicious, not to say that some called it still worse, a diabolical talent. He said he would consent himself with making but two instances, be- cause he believed those two would be enough to give content to them, his judges too, in that case. In his first instance he told them that they might find somewhat relating to this in Nicolaus He- mingius, who in his tracts de Superstitionibus Magicis, printed at Copenhagen, anno 1575, informs the world, that Petrus Palladius a bishop of See- landt, and professor of divinity at Copenhagen, could, from a part of his body affected, foretell from what part of the heavens tempests would come, and was seldom deceived. One of the fathers im- mediately asked him if he understood Latin ? To this Duncan Campbell replied, no. Oh ! said the friar, then, I don't remember that book was ever translated into English that you mention. But, rejoined Duncan Campbell, the passage I men- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 173 tioned to you, I have read in an English book, and word for word, according to the best of my memory, as I have written it down to you. In what English book ? said the friar. I don't remember the name of the book, Duncan Campbell answered, but very well remember the passages, and that it was in a book of authority, and which bore a credit and good repute in the world ; and you being scholars, may, if you please, have recourse to the learned original, and I doubt not but you'll find what I say to be a truth. For the second instance, he told them, that in Spain, there are those they call Saludadores, that have this kind of gift. There was, continued he, in writing, one of your own religion, venerable fathers, and of a religious order, nay a friar too, that had this gift. He was a noted Dominican, said he, and though I forget his name, you may by writing a letter to England learn his name. He was a devout Portuguese, belonging to queen Catherine dowager's chapel, and had the second-sight to a great degree, and was famous and eminent for it. They then asked him what was the full power he had to do by the second -sight. He answered, that as they had intimated that they had perused some of the skilful writers concerning the second-sight, he did not doubt but they had found, as well as he could tell them, that as to the extent of peo- ple's knowledge in that secret way, it reached both present, past, and future events. They foresee murders, drownings, weddings, burials, combats, manslaughters, &c, of all which there are many instances to be given. They commonly fore- see sad events a little while before they happen ; for instance, if a man's fatal end be hanging, they will see a gibbet, or rope about his neck ; if be- heading, they will see a man without a head ; if drowning, they will see water up to his throat ; if 174 THE LITE AND ADVENTURES stabbing, they will see a dagger in his breast ; if unexpected death in his bed, they will see a wind- ingsheet about his head. They foretell not only marriages, but of good children ; what kind of life men shall lead, and in what condition they shall die ; also riches, honours, preferments, peace, plenty, and good weather. It is likewise usual with persons that have lost anything to go to some of these men, by whom they are directed how, with what persons, and in what place they shall find their goods. It is also to be noted that these gifts bear a latitude, so that some have it in a far more eminent degree than others ; and what I have here written down to you, you need not take as a truth from me ; bat as it concerned me so nearly, I re- member the passage by heart, and you will find it very near word for word in Dr. Beaumont's book Of Familiar Spirits. Aye, said the friars, but you have a genius too that attends you, as we are informed. So, replied Duncan Campbell, have all persons that have the second-sight in any eminent degree ; and to prove this I will bring no less a witness than king James, who, in his Demonology, book the third and chapter the second, mentions also a spirit called Brownie, that was wont formerly to haunt di- vers houses, without doing any evil, but doing, as it were, necessary turns up and down the house ; he appeared like a rough man, nay, some believed that their house was all the ; sonsier,' as they called it, that is, the more lucky or fortunate, that such spirits resorted there. With these replies the friars began to own they were very well satisfied, and acqui- esced in the account he had given of himself as a very good, true, and honest account ; but they told him they had still a further accusation against him, and that was, that he practised magic arts, and that he used, as they had been informed, unlawful incan- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 175 tations. To this he made answer, that there were two kinds of magic, of which he knew they that were men of learning could not be ignorant. The art of magic, which is wicked and impious, conti- nued he, is that which is professed, and has been professed at all times in the world, by witches, ma- gicians, diviners, enchanters, and suchlike notori- ous profligates; who, by having an unnatural com- merce with the devil, do many strange, prodigious, and preternatural acts, above and beyond all human wisdom ; and all the arguments I ever did, or ever will deduce, continued he, from that black art, is a good and, shining argument ; it is this, O fathers : I draw a reason from these prodigious practices of wizards, magicians, enchanters, &c, and from all the heathen idolatry and superstition, to prove that there is a Deity ; for from these acts of theirs, being preternatural and above human wisdom, we may consequently infer that they proceed from a supernatural and immaterial cause, such as demons are. And this is all the knowledge I ever did or ever will draw from that black hellish art. But, fathers, there is another kind of art magic, called natural magic, which is directly opposite to theirs, and the object of which art is to do spiritual good to mankind, as the object of theirs is to torment them, and induce them to evil. They afflict people with torments, and my art relieves them from the tor- ments they cause. The public profession of these magical arts has, as you know, fathers, it is a com- mon distinction, between black and white magic, been tolerated in some of the most famous univer- sities of Christendom, though afterwards for a very good reason in politics, making it a public study to such a degree was very wisely retrenched by prohi- bition. If this therefore be a fault in your own 176 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES opinions, hear my accusers, but if not, you will not only excuse, but commend me. The friars were extremely well pleased with his defence ; but one of them had a mind to frighten him a little if he could, and asked him what he would say if he could produce some witches lately seized, that would swear he had been frequently at their unlawful assemblies, where they were making their waxen images and other odd mischievous in- ventions in black magic, to torment folks ; what if I can produce such evidence against you, wrote the father to him, by way of strengthening the ques- tion, will you not own that we have convicted you then ? And when he had wrote the note he gave it Duncan Campbell, with a ]ook that seemed to express his warmth and eagerness in the expostu- lation. Duncan Campbell took the paper and read it, and far from being startled, returned this answer, with a smile continuing in his face while he wrote it. No, said he, fathers, by your leave, they will only prove me a good magician by that oath, and themselves more plainly witches. They will prove their love to torment good folks, and only show their hatred to me an innocent man, but wise enough to torment them by hindering them from tor- menting others. The fathers were well pleased with the shrewdness of the answer ; but Duncan Camp- bell had a mind to exert his genius a little further with the good friar, who thought likewise he had put him a very shrewd question ; so taking up an- other sheet of paper, Fathers, said he, shall I en- tertain you with a story of what passed upon this head, between two religious fathers, as you all of you are, and a prince of Germany, in which you will find that mine ought to be reputed a full an- swer to the question the last learned father was OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 177 pleased to propose to me ? The story is somewhat long, but very much to the purpose, and entertain- ing ; 1 remember it perfectly by heart, and if you will have patience while I am writing it, I do not doubt but that I shall not only satisfy you, but please you and oblige you with the relation. The author I found it in quotes it from Fromannus, (I think the man's name was so, and I am sure my author calls him a very learned man,) in his third book of Magical Incantation, and though I do not understand the language the original is writ in, yet I dare venture to say upon the credit of my English author, from whom I got the story by heart, that you will find me right whenever you shall be pleased to search. The friars were earnest for the story, and ex- pressed a desire that he would write it down for them to read, which he did in the following words. Note that 1 have since compared Mr. Duncan Campbell's manuscript with the author's page out of which he took it, and find it word for word the same ; which shows how incomparable a memory this deaf and dumb gentleman has got, besides his other extraordinary qualifications. The story is this : — A prince of Germany invited two religious fathers, of eminent virtue and learning, to a dinner. The prince, at table, said to one of them : Father ; think you we do right in hanging persons, w T ho are accused by ten or twelve witches, to have appeared at their meetings or sabbaths ? I somewhat fear we are im- posed on by the devil, and that it is not a safe way to truth, that we walk in by these accusations ; especially since many great and learned men every- where begin to cry out against it, and to charge our consciences with it ; tell me, therefore, your opinion. To whom the fathers, being somewhat of an eager D. C. N V 178 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES spirit, said ; What should make us doubtful in this case ? Or what should touch our consciences, being convicted by so many testimonies ? Can we make it a scruple, whether God will permit innocent persons should be so traduced ? there is no cause for a judge to stick at such a number of accusations, but he may proceed with safety. To which when the prince had replied, and much had been said pro and con on both sides about it, and the father seemed wholly to carry the point, the prince at length con- cluded the dispute ; saying, I am sorry for you, father, that in a capital cause you have condemned yourself, and you cannot complain if I commit you to custody ; for no less than fifteen witches have deposed that they have seen you, ay, start not! you your ownself, at their meetings ; and to show you that I am not in jest, I will presently cause the public acts to be brought for you to read them. The father stood in a maze, and with a dejected countenance had nothing here to oppose but con- fusion and silence, for all his learned eloquence. As soon as Mr. Campbell had wrote down the story ; the fathers perused it, and seemed mightily entertained with it. It put an end to all further questions, and the man whom they had been trying for a conjurer, they joined in desiring, upon distinct pieces of paper, under their several hands, to come frequently and visit them, as being not only a harm- less and innocent, but an extraordinary well-meaning, good, and diverting companion. They treated him for some time afterwards during his stay, with the friendship due to a countryman, with the civility that is owing to a gentleman, and with the assist- ance and support which belonged to a person of merit in distress. Money they had none themselves it seems to give him, being Mendicants by their own profession ; but they had interest enough to OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 179 get him quite free from being prisoner ; he partici- pated of their eleemosynary table, had a cell allowed him among them in what they call their Dormitory; he had an odd coat and a pair of trowsers made out of some of their brown coarse habits, by the poor unfashionable tailor, or botcher, belonging to the convent, and at last they found means of recommend- ing him to a master of a French vessel that was ready to set sail, to give him a cast over the Channel to England ; and to provide him with the necessaries of life till he got to the port. This French vessel was luckier than the Dutch one had been before to our dumb gentleman ; it had a quick and prosperous passage, and arrived at Portsmouth ; and as soon as he landed there, he having experienced the mis- fortunes and casualties that a man in his condition, wanting both speech and hearing, was liable to, in places where he was an utter stranger to everybody, resolved to make no stay, but move on as fast as he could towards London. When he came to Hampton town, considering the indifferent figure he made in those odd kind of clothes, which the poor friars had equipped him with, and that his long beard and an uncombed wig added much to the disguise, he was resolved to put on the best face he could, in those awkward circumstances, and stepped into the first barber's shop he came at to be trimmed and get his wig combed and powdered. This proved a very lucky thought to him; for as soon as he stepped into the first barber's shop, who should prove to be the master of it, but one Tobit Yeats, who had served him in the same capacity at London, and was but newly set up in the trade of a barber-surgeon, at Hampton town, and followed likewise the profes- sion of schoolmaster. This Tobit Yeats had shaved him quite, before he knew him in that disguise ; and Mr. Campbell, though he knew him presently, had n2 180 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES a mind to try if he should be known himself first ; at length, the barber finding him to be a dumb man, by his ordering everything with motions of the hand and gestures of the body, looked at him very earnestly, remembered him, and in a great surprise called for pen, ink, and paper, and begged to know how he came to be in that disguise ; whether he was under any misfortune, and apprehension of being discovered, that made him go in so poor and so clownish a habit, and tendered him any services, as far as his little capacity would reach, and desired him to be free, and command him ; if he was able to assist him in anything. These were the most comfortable words that Duncan Campbell had read a great while. He took the pen and paper in his turn ; related to him his whole story, gave the poor barber thanks for his good natured offer, and said he would make so much use of it, as to be indebted to him for so much money as would pay the stagecoach, and bear him in his travelling expenses up to London, from whence he would speedily return the favour with interest. The poor honest fellow, out of gratitude to a master whose liberality he had formerly experienced, imme- diately furnished Mr, Duncan Campbell with that little supply, expressing the gladness of his heart that it lay in his power ; and the stagecoach being to set out within but a few hours, he ran instantly to the inn to see if he could get him a place. By good luck there was room, and but just room for one more, which pleased Duncan Campbell mightily, when he was acquainted with it by his true and trusty ser- vant the barber ; for he was as impatient to see London again, it seems, as he had been before to quit it. Well, he had his wish ; and when he came to London, he had one wish more for Fortune to bestow upon him, which appeared to begin to grow kind again, after her fickle fit of cruelty was over ; OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 181 and this wish was, that he might find his former lodgings empty, and live in the same house as he did when he followed his profession. This too succeeded according to his desire, and he was happily fixed once more to his heart's content in his old residence, with the same people of the house round about him, who bore him all that respect and affection, and showed all that readiness and willing- ness to serve him on every occasion and at every turn, which could be expected from persons that let lodgings in town to a gentleman, whom they esteemed the best tenant they ever had in their lives, or ever could have. Immediately the tidings of the dumb gentleman's being returned home from beyond sea, spread throughout all the neighbourhood ; and it was noised about from one neighbourhood to another, till it went through all ranks and conditions, and was known as well in a day or two's time, all the town over, as if he had been some great man belonging to the state, and his arrival had been notified to the public in the gazette, as a person of the last impor- tance. And such a person he appeared indeed to be taken for, especially among the fair sex, who thronged to his doors, crowd after crowd, to consult with him about their future occurrences in life. These curious tribes of people were as various in their persons, sex, age, quality, profession, art, trade, as they were in the curiosity of their minds, and the questions they had intended to propound to this dumb predictor of strange events, that lay yet as embryos in the womb of time, and were not to come, some of them, to a maturity for birth, for very many years after; just as procelain clay is stored up in the earth by good artificers, which their heirs make china of half a century, and sometimes more than an age, afterwards. 182 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES These shoals of customers, who were to fee him well for his advice, as we may suppose, now he stood in need of raising a fresh stock, were unquestion- ably as welcome and acceptable to him as they ap- peared too troublesome to him before, when he was in a state of more wealth and plenty. Fortune, that does nothing moderately, seemed now resolved, as she had been extremely cruel be- fore, to be extremely kind to him. He had nothing to do from early in the morning till late at night, but to read questions, and resolve them as fast as much-frequented doctors write their prescriptions and recipes, and like them also to receive fees as fast. Fortune was indeed mightily indulgent to the wants she had so suddenly reduced him to, and re- lieved him as suddenly by these knots of curiosos, who brought him a glut of money. But one single fair lady, that was one of his very first consulters after his return, and who had received satisfactory answers from him in other points, before he went abroad, proved, so good fortune would have it, worth all the rest of his customers together, as nu- merous as they were, and as I have accordingly represented them. This lady was the relict or widow of a gentleman of a good estate, and of a very good family, whose name was Digby, and a handsome jointure she had out of the estate. This lady, it seems, having been with him in former days, and seen him in a more shining way of life, (for he had taken a humour to appear before all his company in that coarse odd dress made out of the friar's habit, and would not be persuaded by the people of the house to put on a nightgown till he could provide himself with a new suit,) was so curious, among other questions, as to ask him whether he had met with any misfor- tunes, and how he came to be in so slovenly and OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 183 wretched a habit? Here Mr. Campbell related the whole story of his travels to her, and the crosses and disappointments he had met with abroad. The tears, he observed, would start every now and then into her eyes when she came to any doleful passage, and she appeared to have a mighty compassionate kind of feeling, when she read of any hardship more than ordinarily melancholy that had befallen him. Mr. Campbell, it is certain, had then a very good presence, and was a handsome and portly young man ; and as a great many young gentlemen derive the seeming agreeableness of their persons from the tailor and perukemaker, the shoemaker and hosier, so Mr. Campbell's person, on the other hand, gave a good air and a good look to the awk- ward garb he had on ; and I believe it was from seeing him in this odd trim, as they called it, the ladies first took up the humour of calling him ' the handsome sloven :' add to this that he looked his misfortune in the face with a jolly countenance, and smiled even while he was penning the relation of his calamities ; all which are certainly circum- stances that first sooth a generous mind into a state of compassion, and afterwards heighten it in the breast wherein it is conceived. Hence it came that this pretty and good natured widow, Mrs. Digby, when she had expressed her commiseration of him by her looks, began to take the pen and ex- press it in very tender terms. Neither did she think that expression in words a sufficient testimony of the compassion she bore to him ; the generosity of her mind did lead her to express it in a more sub- stantial manner still, and that was to show it plainly by a very benevolous action. She laid a purse of twenty guineas before the table, and at the same time smiling, pointed to the table, as signifying her desire that he would accept it, and running to the 184 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES door, dropped a curtsy, and skuttled away ; and by the same civil act us she obliged him, she put it out of his power to refuse being so obliged ; so that, though the present was very handsome, the manner of giving it was still handsomer. If being a handsome young man of merit in distress, and bearing his misfortunes vdth an equal mind, are powerful motives to excite compassion in the mind of a generous lady, so the generosity of a young agreeable widow, expressed in so kind and so bene- velous a way, to a young gentleman, when he had been tasting nothing but the bitter draughts of for- tune before, must stir up an affection in a mind that had any sense of gratitude ; and truly just such was the effect that this lady's civility had upon Mr. Duncan Campbell. He conceived from that moment a very great affection for her ; and resolved to try whether he could gain her, which he had no small grounds to hope, from the esteem which she appeared to bear towards him already. I remem- ber Mr. Dryden makes a very beautiful observation of the near alliance there is between the two pas- sions of pity and love in a woman's breast, in one of his plays. His words are these ; For pity still foreruns approaching love, as lightning does the thunder. Mr. Bruyere, a most ingenious member of the French academy, has made another remark, which comes home to our present purpose. He says, That many women love their money better than their friends ; but yet value their lovers more than their money. According to the two reflections of these fine writers upon the tempers of the fair, Mr. Campbell had hopes enough to ground his courtship upon ; and it appeared so in the end by his proving successful ; she from being a very libe- ral and friendly client, became at last a most affec- tionate wife. He then began to be a housekeeper, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 185 and accordingly took a little neat one, and very commodious for his profession, in Monmouth-court. Here I must take leave to make this observation ; that if Mr. Campbell inherited the talents of his second-sighted mother, he seemed likewise to be an heir to his father, Mr. Archibald Campbell, both in his strange and accidental sufferings by sea, and likewise in his being relieved from them after as accidental and strange a manner, by an unexpected marriage, just like his father's. And here we re- turn again to take a new survey of him in the course of his public practice as a predictor. The accounts I shall give of his actions here, will be very various in their nature from any I have yet presented to the reader ; they are more mysterious in them- selves, and yet I shall endeavour to make the man- ner of his operating in this kind as plain as I think I have the foregoing ones, and then I flatter myself they must afford a fresh entertainment for every reader that has any curiosity and a good taste for things of so extraordinary a kind. For what I have all along propounded to myself from the begin- ning, and in the progress to the end of this history, is to interweave entertaining and surprising nar- ratives of what Mr. Campbell has done, with curious and instructive inquiries into the nature of those actions, for which he has rendered himself so sin- gularly famous. It was not, therefore, suitable to my purpose, to clog the reader with numerous ad- ventures, almost all of the same kind, but out of a vast number of them to single some few of those that were most remarkable, and that were myste- ries, but mysteries of very different sorts. I leave that method of swelling distorted and commented trifles into volumes, to the writers of fable and ro- mance ; if I was to tell his adventures, with regard, for example, to women, that came to consult him, 1 186 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES might perhaps have not only written the stories of eleven thousand virgin? that died maids, but have had relations to give of as many married women and widows, and the work would have been endless. All that I shall do therefore is to pick out one par- ticular, each of a different kind, that there may be variety in the entertainment. Upon application to this dumb man, one is told in the middle of her health, that she shall die at such a time ; another, that she shall sicken, and upon the moment of her recovery, have a suitor and a husband ; a third, who is a celebrated beauty with a multitude of ad- mirers round about her, that she shall never become a wife ; a fourth, that is married, when she shall get rid of an uneasy husband ; a fifth, that hath lost her goods, who stole them, where and when they shall be restored ; a sixth, that is a merchant, when he shall be undone, and how and when he shall recover his losses, and be as great on the Ex- change as ever; a seventh, that is a gamester, which will be his winning, and which his losing hour ; an eighth, how he shall be involved in a law- suit, and whether the suit will have an adverse or a prosperous issue ; a ninth, that is a woman, with choice of lovers, which she shall be most happy with for life ; and so on to many others, where every prediction is perfectly new and surprising, and differs from the other in almost every circum- stance. When a man has so extensive a genius as this at foretelling the future occurrences of life, one narrative of a sort is enough in conscience to pre- sent the reader with, and several of each kind would not methinks be entertaining, but tiresome ; for he that can do one thing in these kinds by the power of prediction, can do ten thousand ; and those who are obstinate in extenuating his talents, and calling his capacity in question, and that will not be con- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 187 vinced by one instance of his judgment, would not own the conviction if ten thousand instances were given them. The best passages I can recommend to their perusal are those where persons who came purposely to banter him under the colour of con- sulting him, and covered over their sly intentions with borrowed disguises, and came in masquerades, found all the jest turned upon themselves in the end, which they meant to our famous predictor, and had the discouragement of seeing their most concealed and deepest laid plots discovered, and all their most witty fetches and wily contrivances defeated, till they were compelled universally to acknowledge, that endeavouring to impose upon the judgment of our seer by any hidden artifice and cunning what- soever, was effectually imposing upon their own. His unusual talent in this kind was so openly known, and so generally confessed, that his know- ledge was celebrated in some of the most witty weekly papers that ever appeared in public. Isaac Bickerstaff, who diverted all the beau monde for a long space of time with his lucubrations, takes oc- casion in several of his papers to applaud the spe- culations of this dumb gentleman in an admirable vein of pleasantry and humour, peculiar to the writer, and to the subject he writ upon. And when that bright author, who joined the uttermost face- tiousness with the most solid improvements of mo- rality and learning in his works, laid aside the title of a Tatler, and assumed the name of a Spectator and censor of men's actions, he still, every now and then, thought our Duncan Campbell a subject worthy enough to employ his further considerations upon. I must take notice of one letter sent con- cerning him to the Spectator, in the year 1712, which was at a time when a lady wanted him, after he had removed from Monmouth-street to Drury-lane. 188 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Mr. Spectator, About two years ago I was called upon by the younger part of a country family, by my mother's side related to me, to visit Mr. Campbell, the dumb man ; for they told me that was chiefly what brought them to town, having heard winders of him in Essex. I, who always wanted faith in such matters, was not easily prevailed on to go ; but lest they should take it ill, I went with them, when, to my own surprise, Mr. Campbell related all their past life ; in short, had he not been prevented, such a discovery would have come out, as would have ruined their next design of coming to town, viz., buying wedding clothes. Our names, though he never heard of us before, and we endeavoured to conceal, were as familiar to him as to ourselves. To be sure, Mr. Spectator, he is a very learned and wise man. Being impatient to know my fortune, having paid my respects in a family Jacobus, he told me, after his manner, among several other things, that in a year and nine months I should fall ill of a new fever, be given over by my physicians, but should with much difficulty recover ; that the first time I took the air afterwards, I should be addressed to by a young gentleman of a plentiful fortune, good sense, and a generous spirit. Mr. Spectator, he is the purest man in the world, for all he said is come to pass, and I am the happiest she in Kent. I have been in quest of Mr. Campbell these three months, and cannot find him out ; now hearing you are a dumb man too, I thought you might correspond and be able to tell me something ; for I think myself highly obliged to make his fortune, as he has mine. It is very possible your worship, who has spies all OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 189 over this town, can inform me how to send to him ; if you can, I beseech you be as speedy as possible, and you will highly oblige your constant reader and admirer, DULCIBELLA ThANKLEY. The Spectator's Answer. Ordered, that the inspector I employ about wonders, inquire at the Golden-lion opposite to the Half-moon tavern in Drury-lane, into the merit of this silent sage, and report accordingly. Vide the 7th volume of Spectators, 2\o. 474, being on Wednesday, September the 3rd, 1712. But now let us come to those passages of his life the most surprising of all, during the time that he enjoyed this reputation, and when he proved that he deserved the fame he enjoyed. Let us take a survey of him while he is wonderfully curing persons la- bouring under the misfortune of witchcraft, of which the following story will be an eminent instance, and likewise clear up how he came by his reputation in Essex, as mentioned in the above-mentioned letter to the Spectator. In the year 1709, Susanna Johnson, daughter to one captain Johnson, who lived at a place adjacent to Rumford, in Essex, going one morning to that town to buy butter at the market, was met there by an old miserable looking woman, just as she had taken some of her change of the marketwoman, in copper, and this old woman rather demanded than begged the gentlewoman to give her a penny. Mrs. Johnson reputing her to be one of those hateful people that are called sturdy beggars, refused it her, as thinking it to be no act of charity, and that it would be rather gratifying and indulging her impu- 190 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES dence, than supplying or satisfying her indigence. Upon the refusal, the old hag, with a face more wrinkled still, if possible, by anger, than it was by age, took upon her to storm at young Mrs. Johnson very loudly, and to threaten and menace her ; but when she found her common threats and menaces were of no avail, she swore she would be revenged of the young creature in so signal a manner, that she should repent the denial of that penny from her heart before she got home, and that it should cost her many pounds to get rid of the consequences of that denial and her anger. The poor innocent girl despised these last words likewise, and, getting up on horseback, returned homewards ; but just as she got about half way her horse stopped, and no means that she could use would make him advance one single step; but she stayed awhile to see if that would humour him to go on. At last the beast began to grow unruly, and snorted and trembled as if he had seen or smelt something that frightened him, and so fell a kicking desperately, till he threw the girl from the saddle, not being able to cling to it any longer, though a pretty good horsewoman of her years ; so much were the horse's motions and plung- ings more than ordinarily violent. As Providence would have it, she got not much harm by the fall, receiving only a little bruise in the right shoulder ; but she was dreadfully frightened. This fear added wings to her feet, and brought her home as speedily of herself as she usually came on horseback. She immediately, without any other sign of illness than the palid colour with which fear had disordered the complexion of her face, alarmed all the family at home with the story, took her bed upon it, complained of inward rackings of the belly, and was never at ease unless she lay doubled up together, her head to her knees, and her heels to her OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 191 rump, just like a figure of 8. She could not be a single moment out of that posture without shrieking out with the violence of anxious torments and racking pains. In this condition of misery, amidst this agony of suffering, and in this double posture, was the poor wretched young gentlewoman brought to town ; physicians were consulted about her, but in vain ; she was carried to different hospitals for assistance, but their endeavours likewise proved ineffectual ; at last she was conducted to the college of physicians ; and even the collective wisdom of the greatest sages and adepts in the science of physic was posed to give her any prescription that would do her service, and relieve her from the inexplicable malady she laboured under. The poor incurable creature was one constant subject of her complaining mother's discourse in every company she came into. It happened at last, and very providentially truly, that the mother was thus condoling the misfortune of her child among five or six ladies, and telling them, among other things, that by the most skilful persons she was looked upon to be bewitched, and that it was not within the power of physic to compass her recovery. They all having been acquainted with our Mr. Duncan Campbell, unanimously advised her to carry her daughter to his house, and consult with, him about her. The mother was overjoyed at these tidings, and purposed to let no time slip where her child's health was so deeply concerned. She got the ladies to go with her and her child, to be eye- witnesses of so extraordinary a piece of practice, and so eminent a trial of skill. As soon as this dismal object was brought into his room, Mr. Duncan Campbell lifted up her head and looked earnestly in her face, and in less than a minute's time signified to the company, that she was 192 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES not only bewitched, but in as dreadful a condition almost as the man that had a legion of fiends within him. At the reading of these words the unhappy crea- ture raised up her head, turned her eyes upwards, and a smile, a thing she had been a stranger to for many months, overspread her whole face, and such a kind of colour as is the flushing of joy and glad- ness, and with an innocent tone of voice she said, she now had a firm belief she should shortly be de- livered. The mother and the rest of the company were all in tears, but Mr. Campbell wrote to them that they should be of good heart, be easy and quiet for a few moments, and they should be convinced that it was witchcraft, but happily convinced by seeing her so suddenly well again. This brought the company into pretty good temper ; and a little after, Mr. Campbell desired she might be led up stairs into his chamber and left there alone with him for a little while ; this occasioned some small female speculation, and as much mirth as their late sorrow, alleviated with the hopes of her cure, would permit. This you may be sure was but a snatch of mirth, just as the nature of the thing would allow of; and all sorts of waggery being laid instantly aside, and removed almost as soon as conceived, the poor young thing was carried in that double posture up stairs. She had not been much above half an hour there, when by the help only of Mr. Campbell's arm she was led down stairs, and descended into that roomful of company as a miracle appearing in a machine from above ; she was led backward and forward in the room, while all gazed at her for a- while with joyful astonishment, for no arrow was ever more straight than she. Mr. Campbell then prevailed with her to drink a glass of wine, and im- mediately after she evacuated wind, which she had OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 193 not done for some months before, and found herself still more amended and easy ; and then the mother making Mr. Campbell some small acknowledgment at that time, with the promise of more, and her daughter giving thanks, and all the company com- mending his skill, took their leaves and departed, with great demonstrations of joy. I shall here, to cut the story short, signify, that she came frequently afterwards to make her testimonials of gratitude to him, and continues to enjoy her health to this very day, at Greenwich, where she now lives, and will at any time, if called upon, make oath of the truth of this little history, as she told me herself with her own mouth. The next thing, therefore, it behoves me to do in this chapter, is, to give some satisfactory account of magic, by which such seeming mysterious cures and operations are brought about. This task I would perform in the most perspicu- ous and most convincing manner I can ; for magic, I know, is held to be a very hard and difficult study by those learned, and universally unlawful and di- abolical by those unlearned, who believe there is such a science attainable by human genius. On the other hand, by some learned men, who believe there is no such science, it is represented as an in- consistent system of superstitions and chimeras ; and again laughed at as such by the unlearned, who are of an incredulous temper ; what I would therefore undertake to do in this place is to show the learned men, who believe there is such an art, that the attainment to a tolerable knowledge of the manner how magical practices may be brought about, is no such difficult matter as they have re- presented it to themselves ; and by doing this I shall make the system of it so plain, that while the learned approve of it, the unlearned too, who are d. c. o 194 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES not of an unbelieving kind, may understand clearly what I say ; and the learned men who have rejected this science as chimerical, may be clearly convinced it is real ; and then there is nothing left but ob- stinate unbelieving ignorance, which I shall not here pretend by arguments to lead into sense, but leave it to the work of time. In fine, I will endea- vour to induce men of sense to say, that what has been accounted mysterious, is delivered in a plain, easy, and convincing manner, and to own that they approve, while men of the lower class of under- standing shall confess and acknowledge that they themselves understand it; and that what has hi- therto been represented as arduous and difficult to a great genius, is adapted and rendered not only clear, but familiar to persons of middling talents. In this work, therefore, I shall follow the strictest order I can, which of all things render a discourse upon any subject the most clear ; and that it may be plain to the commonest capacity, I will first set down what order I intend to follow. First, I will speak of magic in general. Secondly, Of magic under its several divisions and subdivisions. Thirdly, Concerning the object of art, as it is good or bad. Fourthly, Of the persons exercising that art in either capacity of good or bad, and by what means they become capacitated to exercise it. In the fifth place, I shall come to the several ob- jections against the art of magick, and the refu- tation of those objections. The first objection shall be against the existence of good and bad spirits ; the refutation of which will consist in my proving the existence of spirits, both good and bad, by reason and by experience. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 195 The second objection that will be brought, is to contain an allegation that there are no such per- sons as witches now, and an argument to support that allegation, drawn from the incapacity and im- possibility of any thing's making, while itself is in- carnate, a contract with a spirit. This objection will be answered by proving the reality of witches from almost universal experience, and by explaining rationally the manner how the devils hold com- merce with witches; which explication is backed and authorised by the opinion of the most eminent divines and the most learned physicians. From hence, sixthly and lastly, We shall con- clude on the side of the good magic, that as there are witches on the one hand that may afflict and torment persons with demons, so on the other hand there are lawful and good magicians that may cast out demons from people that are possessed with them. And first as to magic in general. Magic con- sists in the spirit by faith, for faith is that magnet of the magicians by which they draw spirits to them, and by which spirits they do great things, that appear like miracles. Secondly, Magic is divided into three sorts, viz., divine, natural, and diabolical. And natural ma- gic is again subdivided into two kinds, simple and compound ; and natural compound magic is again likewise divided into two kinds, viz., natural-divine magic, and natural-diabolical magic. Now, to give the reader a clear and a distinct notion of each several species of magic here mentioned, I set down the following definitions : Divine magic is a celestial science, in which all operations that are wonderfully brought about, are performed by the spirit of God. Natural magic is a science in o2 196 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES which all the mysterious acts that are wrought, are compassed by natural spirits. But as this natural magic may be exercised about things either in a manner indifferent in themselves, or mere mo- rally good, and then it is mere natural magic ; or else about things theologically good, and transcend- ently bad ; and then it is not merely and natural magic, but mixed and compound. If natural ma- gic be exercised about the most holy operations, it is then mixed with the divine, and may then be called, not improperly, natural-divine magic. But if natural magic troubles itself about compassing the wickedest practices, then is it promiscuous with the demoniacal, and may not improperly be called natural-diabolical magic. Thirdly, The object of this art is doing wonders out of the ordinary appearing course of nature, which tend either to great good or bad, by the help and mediation of spirits good and bad. Fourthly, As to the persons exercising that art in either way, whether good or bad, and by what means they become capacitated to act it, the notion of this may be easily deduced from the notions of the art itself, as considered above in its each dif- ferent species ; for as all magic consists in a spirit, every magician acts by a spirit. Divine magicians, that are of God, are spoke of in the sacred Book, and therefore I shall not men- tion the passages here, but pass them over, as I ought in a book like this, with a profound and reve- rential silence, as well as the other passages which speak of natural and demoniacal magicians ; and in all I shall speak of them in this place, I shall only speak of them with regard to human reason and ex- perience, and conclude this head with saying, that natural magicians work all things by the natural spirits of the elements ; but that witches and de- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 197 moniacal magicians, as Jannes and Jambres in in Egypt were, work their magical performances by the spirit of demons, and it is by the means of these different spirits that these different magicians perform their different operations. These things thus distinctly settled and ex- plained, it is now we must come and ground the dispute between those who believe there are no such things as magicians of any kind, and those who assert there are of all the kinds above specified. Those who contend there are, have recourse to experience, and relate many well- witnessed narra- tives, to prove that there have been in all times, and that there are still, magicians of all these kinds. But those who contend that there are no such per- sons, will give no ear to what the others call plain experience ; they call the stories, let whatever wit- nesses appear to justify them, either fabulous legends invented by the authors, or else tricks of intellectual legerdemain imposed by the actors, upon the relators of those actions. Since, there- fore, they say, though the believers in magic brag of experience never so much, it may be but a fal- lible experience ; they reasonably desire to know whether these gentlemen that stand for magic can answer the objections which they propose, to prove that the practice of magic, according to the system laid down, is inconsistent with reason, before they will yield their assent. Let the stories be never so numerous, appear never so credible, these unbe- lieving gentlemen desire to be tried by reason, and aver till that reason is given they will not be con- vinced by the number of stories, because, though numerous, they are stories still ; neither will they believe them because they appear credible, because seeming so is not being so, and appearances, though never so fair, when they contradict reason, are not 198 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES to be swallowed down with an implicit faith as so many realities. And uhus far, no doubt, the gen- tlemen who are on the unbelieving side are very much in the right of it. The learned gentlemen, on the other hand, who are persuaded of this mighty mysterious power being lodged in the hands of magicians, answer, that they will take upon them to refute the most subtle objections brought by the learned unbelievers, and to reconcile the practicability of magical mysteries by the capacity of men who study that art, to right rules and laws of reasoning, and to show that some stories, though never so prodigious, which are told of magicians, demand the belief of wise men on two accounts ; because as experience backs reason on the one hand, reason backs experience on the other, and so the issue of the whole argument, whether there are magicians are not, is thrown upon both experience and reason. These arguments on each side, I shall draw up fairly pro and con; for I do not pretend to be the inventor of them myself, they belong to other authors many years ago ; be it enough for me to boast of, if I can draw them up in a better and closer form together than they have yet appeared in. In that I take upon myself a very great task ; I erect myself as it were into a kind of a judge ; I will sum up the evidences on both sides, and I shall, wherever I see occasion, intimate which side of the argument bears the most weight with me ; but when I have enforced my opinion as far as 1 think needful, my readers, like a jury, are still at liberty to bring in their verdict just as they themselves shall see fit ; and this naturally leads me where I pro- mised to come to in the fifth part of this discourse, to the several objections against the power of art magic, and the refutation of those objections. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 199 The first objections being against the existence of spirits, and the refutations thereof The first objection which they who reject magic make use of, is, denying that there are any such things as spirits, about which, since those who de- fend the art say it entirely exerciseth itself, the ob- jectors contend, that if they can make out that there are no such beings as spirits, all pretensions to the art must be entirely groundless, and for the future exploded. To make this part out, that there are no spirits, the first man they produce on their side is un- doubtedly one of very great credit and authority, inasmuch as he has justly borne for many centuries the title of a prince of philosophers. They say that Aristotle in his book de Mundo, reasons thus against the existence of spirits, viz., That since God can do all things of himself, he doth not stand in need of ministering angels and demons. A mul- titude of servants showing the weakness of a prince. The gentlemen who defend the science make this reply, they allow the credit and authority of Ari- stotle as much as the objectors ; but as the objectors themselves deny all the authorities for the spirits, and desire that reason may be the only ground they go upon, so the refuters, on their parts desire, that Aristotle's ipse dixit may not be absolutely passed upon them for argument ; but that his words may be brought to the same touchstone of reason, and proved if they are standard. If this argument, say they, will hold good, Aristotle should not sup- pose intelligences moving the celestial spheres ; for God sufficeth to move all without ministering spi- rits ; nor would there be need of a sun in the 200 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES world, for God can enlighten all things by himself, and so all second causes were to be taken away ; therefore, there are angels and ministering spirits in the world, for the majesty God, not for his want of them, and for order, not for his omnipotency. And here if the objectors return and say, who told you that there are spirits ? Is not yours a preca- rious hypothesis ? May not we have leave to recri- minate in this place ? Pray who told Aristotle that there were intelligences that moved the celes- tial spheres ? Is not this hypothesis as precarious as any man may pretend that of spirits to be ? And we believe there are few philosophers at present who agree with Aristotle in that opinion ; and we dare pronounce this to be ours, that Aristotle took his intelligences from the Hebrews, who went ac- cording to the same whimsical, though pretty notion, which first gave rise to the fiction of the nine muses. But more than all this, it is a very great doubt among learned men, whether this book de Mundo be Aristotle's or no. The next thing the objectors bring against the existence of spirits, is, that it is nonsense for men to say that there are such beings of which it is im- possible for a man to have any notion, and they in- sist upon it that it is impossible for any man to form an idea of a spiritual substance. As to this part, the defendants rejoin, that they think our late most judicious Mr. Locke, in his elaborate and finished Essay on the Human Understanding, has fairly made out, that men have as clear a notion of a spiritual substance as they have of any corporeal sub- stance, matter, or body ; and that there is as much reason for admitting the existence of the one, as of the other ; for that if they admit the latter, it is but humour in them to deny the former. It is in book the 2nd, chap. 29, where he reasons thus : "If a man OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 201 will examine himself concerning his notion of pure substance in general, he will find he has no other idea of it, but only a supposition of he knows not what support of such quality which are capable of producing simple ideas in us, which qualities are commonly called accidents. Thus, if we talk or think of any particular sort of corporeal substance, as horse, stone, &c, though the idea we have of either of them be but the complication or collec- tion of those several simple ideas, or sensible qua- lities which we use to find united in the thing called horse, or stone ; yet because we cannot con- ceive how they should subsist alone, not one in an- other, we suppose them to exist in, and be sup- ported by some common subject; which support we denote by the name of substance, though it be certain we have no clear or distinct idea of that thing we suppose a support. The same happens concerning the operations of our mind, viz., think- ing, reasoning, and fearing, &c, which we con- cluding not to subsist of themselves, and not appre- hending how they can belong to body, we are apt to think these the actions of some substance which we call spirit ; whereby it is evident, that having no other notion of matter, but something wherein those many sensible qualities which affect our senses do subsist, by supposing a substance wherein thinking, knowing, doubting, and a power of mov- ing, &c, do subsist, we have as clear a notion of the nature or substance of spirit, as we have of body : the one being supposed to be, without know- ing what is, the substratum to those simple ideas which we have from without; and the other sup- posed, with a like ignorance of what it is, to be the substratum of these operations which we experiment in ourselves within. It is plain, then, that the idea of corporeal substance in matter, is as remote from 202 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES our conceptions and apprehensions as that of spi- ritual substance, and therefore from our not having any notion of the substance of spirit, we can no more conclude its not existence, than we can for the same reason deny the existence of body ; it being as rational to affirm there is no body, because we cannot know its essence, as it is called, or have the idea of the substance of matter, as to say, there is no spirit, because we know not its essence, or have no idea of a spiritual substance." Mr. Locke also, comparing our idea of spirit with our idea of body, thinks there may seem rather less obscurity in the former than the latter. Our idea of body he takes to be an extended solid substance, capable of communicating motion by impulse ; and our idea of soul is a substance that thinks, and has a power of exciting motion in body by will or thought. Now, some perhaps will say they comprehend a thinking thing, which perhaps is true ; but, he says, if they consider it well, they can no more compre- hend an extended thing ; and if they say, they know not what it is thinks in them, they mean they know not what the substance is of that thinking thing ; no more, says he, do they know what the substance is of that solid thing ; and if they say they know how not how they think, he says, neither do they know how they are extended, how the solid parts are united, or where to make extension, &c. The learned monsieur le Clerc, who generally knows how far human reason can bear, argues con- sonantly to what is before delivered by Mr. Locke, in his Coronis, added to the end of the fourth vo- lume of his Philosophical Works, in the third edition of them, where he writes as followeth : — " When we contemplate the corporeal nature, we can see nothing in it but extension, divisibility, solidity, mobility, and various determinations of OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 203 quantity, or figures ; which being so, it were a rash thing, and contrary to the laws of right reasoning, to affirm other things of bodies ; and consequently from mere body nothing can be deduced by us, which is not joined in a necessary connection with the said properties ; therefore those who have thought the properties of perceiving by sense, of understanding, willing, imagining, remembering, and others the like, which have no affinity with corporeal things, to have risen from the body, have greatly transgressed in the method of right reasoning and philosophising, which hath been done by Epicurus, and those who have thought as he did, having affirmed our minds to be composed of corporeal atoms : but whence shall we say they have had their rise ? truly, they do not owe their rise to matter, which is wholly des- titute of sense and thought, nor are they sponta- neously sprung up from nothing, it being an onto- logical maxim of most evident truth, that nothing springs from nothing." Having thus given the reader the first objections made against the existence of spirits, and the re- futations thereof, I must now frankly own on which side my opinion leans ; and for my part, it seems manifest to me that there are two beings ; we con- ceive very plainly and distinctly, viz., body and spirit, and that it would be as absurd and ridiculous to deny the existence of the one as of the other ; and really, if the refuters have got the better in their way of reasoning, they have still a much greater advantage over the objectors, when they come to back these reasons with fresh arguments drawn from experience. Of this, there having been many undoubted narratives given in the foregoing pages, concerning the apparitions of spirits, I shall refer the reader back again to them, and only subjoin here one or two instances, which may, if required, be proved upon oath, of spirits seen by two persons 204 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES of our Duncan Campbell's own acquaintance. In the year 171], one Mrt. Stephens and her daughter were together with Mr. Campbell, at the house of Mr. Ramell, a very great and noted weaver at Hag- gerstone, where the rainy weather detained them till late at night. Just after the clock struck twelve, they all of them went to the door to see if the rain had ceased, being extremely desirous to get home. As soon as ever they had opened the door and were all got together, there appeared before them a thing all in white, the face seemed of a dismal palid hue, but the eyes thereof fiery and flaming, like beacons, and of a saucer size. It made its approaches to them till it came up within the space of about three yards of them, there it fixed and stood like a figure agaze, for some minutes ; and they all stood likewise stiff, like the figure, frozen with fear, mo- tionless, and speechless ; when all of a sudden it vanished from their eyes, and that apparition to the sight was succeeded by a noise, or the appearance of a noise, like that which is occasioned by the fighting of twenty mastiff dogs. Not long after, Mrs. Anne Stephens, who lived in Spitalfields, a woman well known by her great dealings with mercers upon Ludgate-hill, sitting in her house alone, and musing upon business, hap- pened by accident to look behind her, and saw a dead corpse, to her thinking, lie extended upon the floor, just as a dead corpse should be, excepting that the foot of one leg was fixed on the ground, as it is in a bed when one lies with one knee up ; she looked at it a long while, and by degrees at last stole her eyes from so unpleasing and unex- pected an object. However, a strange kind of a curiosity overcame her fears, and she ventured a second time to turn her head that way, and saw it, as before, fixed for a considerable time longer, but durst not stir from her seat ; she again with- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 205 drew her eyes from the horrible and melancholy spectacle, and resumed the courage, after a little reflection, of viewing it again, and resolving to ascertain herself if the vision was real, by getting up from her seat and going to it, but upon this third retrospection she found it vanished. This relation she writ down to Mr. Duncan Campbell, and has told before Mrs. Ramell, her own sister, and many other very creditable persons. Now as to these arguments from experience, I shall also deliver my opinion ; I dispute not but that learned men, who have obstinate prepossessions, may pro- duce plausible arguments why all things should be thought to be done by imposture which seem strange to them, and interfere with their belief; and truly thus far their humour may be indulged, that if only one person relates a very strange and surprising story, a man may be more apt to think it is possible for that person to lie, than that so strange a relation should be true ; but if a considerable num- ber of persons, of several countries, several religions, several professions, several ages, and those persons looked upon to be of as great sagacity as any the country afford, agree in relations of the same kind, though very strange, and are ready to vouch the truth of them upon oath, after having well consi- dered circumstances, I think it a violation of the law of nature to reject all these relations as fabulous, merely upon a self-presuming conceit, unless a man can fairly show the things to be im- possible, or can demonstrate wherein those persons were imposed on ; for from hence I form the follow- ing conclusive argument. What is possible accord- ing to reason, grows probable according to belief; where the possibility is attested to have reduced itself into action by persons of known credit and integrity. Now, not only the possibility of the ex- 206 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES istence of spirits, but the actual existence thereof is proved above by logical demonstration ; therefore are we to believe both by the course of logical reason and moral faith, that those existences have ap- peared to men of credit, who have attested the reality thereof upon oath. Second objection against the existence of ivitches. These objectors go on to say, that provided they should allow there is an existence of spirits, yet that would be still no argument how magic should sub- sist, because they deny that it is impossible for a man in his body to have a commerce, much less make a contract, with spirits ; but here again the refuters allege they have both experience and reason on their sides. As a joint argument of reason and experience, they tell you, that the nume- rous witches which have in all countries been ar- raigned and condemned upon this occasion, are evident testimonies of this commerce and contract being held and made with spirits. They pretend to say, that these objectors call not their, the refuters, judgment so much in question, who contend that there is a magic art, as they call in question the judgment of all the wisest legislative powers in Christendom, who have universally agreed in enacting penal laws against such capital offenders. But here the objectors return and say, that it being impossible for us to show the manner how such a contract should be made, we can never, but without reason, believe a thing to be, of which we can form no perfect idea. The refuters, on the other hand, reply with the learned father le Brune, it is manifest that we can see but two sorts of beings, spirits and bodies ; and that since we can reason but OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 207 according to our own ideas, we ought to ascribe to spirits what cannot be produced by bodies. Indeed the author of the Republic of Learning, in the month of August, anno 1686, has given us a rough draught for writing a good tract of witchcraft, which he looks upon as a desideratum ; where among other things he writes thus : Since this age is the true time of systems, one should be contrived concerning the commerce that may be betwixt demons and men. On this passage father le Brune writes thus : " Doubtless here the author complies with the language of a great many persons, who, for want of attention and light, would have us put all religion in systems. Whatever regard I ought to have for many of those persons, I must not be afraid to say, that there is no system to be made of those truths, which we ought to learn distinctly by faith, because we must advance nothing here, but what we receive from the oracle. "We must make a system to explain the effects of the loadstone, the ebbing and flowing of the sea, the motion of the planets ; for that the cause of these effects is not evidently signified to us, and many may be conceived by us ; and to determine us, we have need of a great number of observations, which by an exact induction may lead us to a cause that may satisfy all the phenomena. It is not the same in the truths of religion, we come not at them by groping, it were to be wished men spoke not of them, but after a decisive and infallible authority. It is thus we should speak of the power of demons, and of the commerce they have with men ; it is of faith, that they have power, and that they attack men, and try to se- duce them divers ways. It is true, indeed, they are sometimes permitted to have it over the just, though they have it not ordinarily, but over those that want faith, or fear not to partake of their works ; and that to the last particularly, the disordered intelligences 208 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES try to make exactly succeed what they wish; inspiring them to have recourse to certain practices by which those seducing spirits enter into commerce with men." Thus far father le Brune. But still these objectors demand to know by what means this commerce may be held between demons and men, and urge us to describe the manner ; or pretend that they have still reason to refuse coming into the belief of a thing which we would impose upon them, though wholly ignorant of it ourselves ; to that the refuters answer thus ; that both Christian divines and physicians agree as to the manner how, which they are so curious in inquiring after, that demons stir up raptures and ecstacies in men, binding or loosing the exterior senses, and that either by stop- ping the pores of the brain, so that the spirits cannot pass forth, as it is done naturally by sleep, or by re- calling the sensitive spirits from the outward senses to the inward organs, which he there retains ; so the Devil renders women witches ecstatical and ma- gicians, who while they lie fast asleep in one place, think they have been in divers places, and done many things. This the learned objectors say pro- ceeds from no demon, but from the disease called an epilepsy ; but, on the other hand, the more learned refuters insist upon it, that these ecstacies are not epileptic seizures ; this, say they, appears from Bodin, in his Theatre of Universal Nature, where he says, That those that are wrapped by the Devil, feel neither stripes nor cuttings, nor no'wresting of their limbs, nor burning tortures, nor the application of a redhot iron ; nay, nor is the beat of the pulse, nor the motion of the heart perceived in them ; but afterwards, returning to themselves, they feel most bitter pains of the wounds received, and tell of things done at six hundred miles' distance, and affirm themselves to have seen them done. The ingenious OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 209 Dr. Ader, makes an admirable physical distinction between this kind of ecstacy and a syncope, or stupor caused by narcotic medicines. Sennertus, in his Institutio Medica, writes of the demoniacal sopor of witches, who think they are carried through the air, dance, feast, and have copulation with the devil, and do other things in their sleep, and afterwards believe the same things waking. Now, he says, whether they are really so carried in the air, &c, or being in a profound sleep, or only dream they are so carried, and persist in that opinion after they are awake, these facts or dreams cannot be natural ; for it cannot be that there should be so great an agreement in dreams, of persons differing in place, temperament, age, sex, and studies, that in one night, and at the same hour, they should, in concert, dream of one and the same such meeting, and should agree as to the place, number, and quality of the persons, and the like circumstances ; but such dreams are suggested from a preternatural cause, viz., from the devil to his confederate, by the divine permission of an Almighty power, where punishments are to be permitted to be inflicted upon reprobate sinners. Whence also, to those witches sincerely converted, and refusing to be any more present at those diabo- lical meetings, those dreams no longer happen, which is a proof that they proceeded not before from a natural cause. Here begins the great point of the dispute as to that branch of magic which we call natural magic. The objectors may tell us, that they will freely own that there may be an existence of spirits, that there may be an existence of witches, that by a divine power men may be influenced so far as to have a communication with good spirits, and that from thence they may become spiritual-divine magicians they will likewise, perhaps, as freely grant, that by d. c. p 210 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES the intervention of a demon things preternatural may be brought about by persons who have studied the demoniacal magic ; but then what they prin- cipally insist upon is, that it must be contradictory to all human reason to imagine that there can be such a thing as natural magicians; and thus far they may form their argument. They say, that the persons, who contend for the magic art, own, that all that is brought about by magic, is by the assistance and help of a spirit, and that consequently what is effected by it must be perternatural ; now, they say, it is a thing inconsistent, by a natural power, to bring about a perternatural effect ; there- fore, there can be no such thing as natural magic, which has within itself the efficacy of destroying those acts done by magicians in the diabolical. To this the refuters take leave to reply, that the foundation upon which the argument is built is wrong grounded ; they have admitted that, in dia- bolical art magic, there may be a commerce held between men and spirits, by which several preter- natural effects may be brought about; and the reason they assign for it there is, because there is a preternatural agent concerned therein, the devil ; but then, say they, in natural magic you can pre- tend to no such agent, and therefore to no such pre- ternatural effect. This argument contains within it two fallacies ; first, as to the commerce held between a man and a demon, there is nothing preternatural in getting the acquaintance ; the will of the man is entirely natural, either naturally good, or naturally corrupted; the black spirit that converseth with him, it is acknowledged is not so, but it is from the will of the man ; not from the power vested in the devil, that the acquaintance first grows, therefore the acquaintance itself is natural, though it arises from the last corruption and depravations OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 211 of nature; but being made with a preternatu- ral existence, though the cause of the acquain- tance be corruptedly natural, yet the interme- diate cause or means after that acquaintance is not so, and therefore the effect of that intermediate cause may be wonderful, and seem to be out of the ordinary course of nature. Now, since it is gene- rally allowed that there are natural spirits of the elements, as well as divine and infernal, what we have to prove is only this, that man by natural magic may have a commerce with natural spirits of their elements, as witches may have with the spirits or demons. Now, as we said before, the commerce itself depends upon the will of the person, and is therefore natural, and consequently may as well subsist between the one as the other ; for the devil cannot force a man to hold a commerce with him whether he will or no. The second fallacy is calling the effect preternatural, no otherwise than as it con- notates the agent that brought it about, which is a spiritual agent ; for the effect is, in itself considered, natural, and brought about by second causes that are natural, by the devil's penetration, who is subtle enough to make use of them for such and such ends. Now men, by natural spirits, which are of a faculty thoroughly subtle, may as well with natural second causes compass the remedy of an evil spirit, as the devil is able to infect men with it. From these speculations a further plain conse- quence may be deduced, how a man may, by the pure force of natural magic, cure a person that is infested with evils by a demon ; for how is it that a demon infests anybody with his evil motions ? It is true, he is a preternatural agent, but the evil effect he does is brought about by natural causes. For how does a demon stir up raptures or ecstacies in men? Why he does it, as we are told above, by p 2 212 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES binding or loosing the exterior senses, by stopping the pores of the brain, so that the spirits cannot pass forth ; and this the art of physic can compass by its drugs, and sleep causes the same thing very na- turally of itself; therefore, as the evil itself is natural, the remedy, that is natural, will certainly overcome it. But then, say you, why cannot those persons be cured by physicians? I answer, not because their remedies are not in themselves sufficient to cure the evils themselves, but because generally physicians do not administer their drugs as Christians, but as physicians ; and when they prescribe them to the sick they generally prescribe to them only purely considered as patients, not as Christians, and therein they come to fail ; because the agent> the devil, is a subtle spirit, that brings the evil, and alters its situation before the remedy, which would master it otherwise, can take any effect; which agent, the devil, is employed by the horrible and impious faith of the antiphysician, viz., the black magician ; but if the physician would act the Christian at the same time, so far as to have a faith that things ordained in the course of nature for the good of man, would have its effects in spite of a devil, if taken with a good faith by the patient ; that all good things ordained to be for the natural recovery of men, if they took it with thankfulness to the sender, would have due effect ; why then the natural spirits of the elements would resist the further agency of the demoniacal spirit, and then nothing but the natural evil, caused at first by the demon, remaining in the person, without the further superintendency of the demon, might demonstratively be taken away b}^ the mere natural remedy or medicine. And thus good and pious physicians, making use of such proper re^- medies as their skill teaches them, and having an honest faith, that the goods of nature intended for OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 213 the use and benefit of man, if received by the patient with the same good faith, is above the power of the devil to frustrate, may not improperly be called na- tural magicians. These arguments of mine I shall now take leave to back by experience. Besides, what we have urged from reason, con- cerning the power of natural magic, we shall only subjoin, that divines themselves hold that natural magic, and also natural divinations and prophecies, are proved by quotations from that venerable writ which is their guide ; and bring proofs from the same also, that by natural magic demons are also cast forth, but not all kinds of demons, and so many works of efficacy are wrought by natural magic ; they tell you, such was the Pythonissa that raised the apparition to Saul, which appeared in a body of wind and air. Thus, if a person by natural magic should cast out demons, it does not follow that this was also from divine magic ; and if demons are cast out by natural magic, by one that is in the fear of God, it does not follow that he is a true magician of God ; but if it exorbitates to demoniacal, then it is condemned : and when natural magic keeps within its bounds, the divines tell us it is not condemned in the venerable book, which is the Christian's sure guide. But, inasmuch as the lawfulness even of natural magic has been called in question by others, I shall, in an Appendix joined to this treatise, examine that matter, both according to the reasons of our English laws, and according to the best stated rules of casuistry that I am a master of; still submitting my judgment to the superior judgment of those who are professed divines and lawyers ; and if my opinions prove erroneous, I am willing to re- tract them ; and therefore, in this place, there re- mains nothing further for me to do, but only, as I have shown, on the one hand, how natural magic, 214 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES and its powerful operations, are proved by reason, to show, on the other hand, how far reason in these cases is likewise backed and supported by well- evidenced practice, and notorious experience. And to do this, after having mentioned one memorable instance, which I refer the reader to in the body of the book, concerning the performances of Mr. Great- rix, to which a lord Orrery was a witness, in Ireland ; I shall, to avoid prolixity, bring the other testimonials of practice, from the success which our Duncan Camp- bell himself has had in this way on other occasions. In the year 1713, lived in Fenchurch-street, one Mr. Coates, a tobacco-merchant, who had been for many years sorely tormented in his body, and had had recourse for a cure to all the most eminent physicians of the age, even up to the great Dr. Ratcliff himself ; but all this mighty application for relief was still in vain ; each doctor owned him a wonder and a mystery to physic, and left him as much a wonder as they found him. Neither could the professors of surgery guess at his ailment, or resolve the riddle of his distemper; and after having spent, from first to last, above a thousand pounds in search of proper remedies, they found the search ineffectual ; the learned all agreed that it could proceed from nothing else but witchcraft ; they had now indeed guessed the source of his ill- ness, but it was an illness of such a kind that, when they had found it out, they thought themselves not the proper persons to prescribe to him any remedies. That task was reserved, it seems, for our Duncan Campbell, who, upon somebody's information or other, was sent for to the bewitched patient Mr. Coates, who found him the wonder that the others had left him, but did wonders in undertaking and compassing his cure. I remember, one of the in- gredients made use of was boiling his own water, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 215 but I cannot tell how it was used ; and, upon turning over the books of some great physicians since, I have found, that they themselves have formerly de- livered that as one part of the prescriptions for the cure of patients in like cases. But as there are other things which Mr. Campbell performs, that seem to require a mixture of the second-sight, and of this natural magic, before they can be brought about, I will entertain the reader with one or two pas- sages of that sort likewise, and so conclude the history of this so singular a man's life and adventures. In the year 1710, a gentlewoman lost about six pounds' worth of Flanders lace, and inasmuch as it was a present made to her husband, she was con- cerned as much as if it had been of twenty times the value ; and a lady of her acquaintance coming to visit her, to whom she unfolded, among other things in discourse, this little disaster, the lady, smiling, replied with this question, Did you never hear, madam, of Mr. Duncan Campbell ? It is but making your application to him, things that are lost are immediately found; the power of his know- ledge exceeds even the power of laws ; they but restrain, and frighten, and punish robbers, but he makes thieves expiate their guilt by the more virtuous way of turning restorers of the goods they have stolen. Madam, rejoined the losing gentle- woman, you smile when you tell me this ; but really, as much a trifle as it is, since it was a present to my husband, I cannot help being sensibly concerned at it, a moment's disappointment to him in the least thing in nature, creates in me a greater uneasiness than the greatest disappointment to my single self could do in things of moment and impor- tance. What makes me smile, said the lady, when I speak of it, or think of it, is the oddness aud peculiarity of this man's talent in helping 216 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES one to such things ; but, without the least jest, I assure you, that I know, by experience, these things come within the compass of his knowledge ; and I must seriously tell you, for your further satis- faction, that he has helped me, and several of my friends, to the finding again things lost, which were of great value. And is this, without laughing, true, said the losing fair, very gravely and demurely, like a person half believing, and desirous to be fully con- firmed in such a belief? The lady she advised with did then ascertain her of the truth of the matter, alleging that, for a single half guinea, he would in- form her of her things, and describe the person that conveyed them away. No sooner was this gentle- woman convinced, but she was eager for the trial; solicited her friend to conduct her to Mr. Campbell, and, upon the first word of consent, she was hooded and scarfed immediately, and they coached it away in a trice to Mr. Campbell's house, whom they luckily found within. The ladies had not been long seated before he wrote down the name of this new client of his, exactly as it was, viz., Mrs. Saxon. Then she was in good hopes, and with much confidence pro- pounded to him the question about the lace. He paused but a very little while upon the matter, be- fore he described the person that took it, and satisfied her that in two or three days she would be mistress of her lace again, and find it in some book, or corner of her room. She presented him a half- guinea, and was very contentedly going away, but Mr. Campbell very kindly stopped her, and signified to her, that, if she had no more to offer to him, he had something of more importance to reveal to her. She sat full of expectation while he wrote this new matter ; and the paper he delivered to her con- tained the following account : As for the loss of a OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 217 little bit of lace, it is a mere trifle ; you have lost a great many hundreds of pounds, which your aunt (naming her name) left you, but you are bubbled out of that large sum. For while you was artfully required down stairs about some pre- tended business or other, one Mr. H — tt — n, conveyed your aunt's will out of the desk, and seve- ral other things of value ; and writing down the names of all the persons concerned, which put Mrs. Saxon in a great consternation, he concluded this paper, with bidding her go home with a contented mind, she should find her lace in a few days ; and as she found that prediction prove true, she should afterwards come and consult about the rest. When she came home, it seems, big at first with the thoughts of what she had been told, she rifled and ransacked every corner, but no lace was to be met with ; all the next day she hunted in the like manner, but frightened the whole time as if she thought the devil was the only person could bring it, but all to no purpose ; the third day her curi- osity abated, she gave over the hopes of it, and took the prediction as a vain delusion, and that what she gave for it was only more money thrown away after what had been lost before. That very day, as it commonly happens in such cases, when she least dreamt of it, she lighted on it by accident and sur- prise. She ran with it in her hand immediately to her husband, and now she had recovered it again, told him of the loss of it, and the whole story of her having been at Mr. Campbell's about it ; and then, amplify- ing the discourse about what he had told her besides, as to more considerable affairs, she said she resolved to go and consult him a little further about them, and begged her husband to accompany her. He would fain have laughed her out of that opinion and intent, but the end was, she persuaded him 218 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES into it, and prevailed upon him to seem at least very serious about the matter, and go with her to the oracle, assuring him there was no room for doubting the same success. Well, to Mr. Campbell's they accordingly came ; and after Mr. Saxon, in deference to his wife's de- sire, had paid our predictor a handsome comple- ment of gold, Mr. Duncan Campbell saluted him in as grateful a manner, with the assurance that there was in Kent a little country house, with some lands appertaining to it, that was his in right of his wife ; that he had the house, as it were, before his eyes, that though he had never substantially seen it, nor been near the place where it stood, he had seen it figuratively, as if in exact painting and sculpture ; that particularly it had four green trees before the door, from whence he was positive, that if Mr. Saxon went with him in quest of it, he should find it out, and know it as well the moment he come near it, as if he had been an inhabitant in it all his life. Mr. Saxon, though somewhat of an unbeliever, yet must naturally wish to find it true, you may be sure, and yet partly doubting the event, and partly pleased with the visionary promise of a fortune he never expected, laughed very heartily at the odd- ness of the adventure, and said he would consider whether it would not savour too much of Quixotism, ta be at the expense of a journey on such frolics, and on such a chimerical foundation of airy hopes, and that then he would call again and let Mr. Campbell know his mind upon that point. In every company he came into, it served for laughter and diversion ; they all, however, agreed it was worth his while, since the journey would not be very expensive, to go it by way of frolic. His wife, one morning, saying that she did remember OF MK. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 219 some talk of a house, and such things as Mr. Camp- bell had described, put him forward upon the ad- venture ; and upon Mr. Saxon's proposing it to his brother Barnard, Mr. Barnard favoured the proposal as a joke, and agreed upon the country ramble. They came on horseback to Mr. Campbell's with a third horse, on which the dumb predictor was mounted, and so on they jogged into'Kent, towards Sevenoaks, being the place which he described. The first day they set out was on a Saturday morn- ing in June, and about five that afternoon they arrived at the Black Bull, at Sevenoaks, in Kent. It being a delicate evening, they took an agreeable walk up a fine hill, gracefully adorned with woods, to an old seat of the earl of Dorset. Meeting by the way with an old servant of the earl, one Perkin, he offered Mr. Barnard who it seems, was his old acquaintance, to give them all a sight of that fine ancient seat. After they had pleased themselves with viewing the antique nobility of that stately structure, this Perkin went back with them to their inn, the Bull, at Sevenoaks. They that could talk were very merry in chat ; and the dumb gentleman, who saw them laugh and wear all the signs of alacrity in their countenances, was resolved not to be behind with their tongues, and by dint of pen, ink, and paper, that he made signs should be brought in, was resolved, if one might be said to crack without noise, to crack his jest as well as the best of them ; for it may be truly said of him, that he seldom comes into any even diverting company, where he is not the most diverting man there, and the head, though we cannot call him the mouth, of the cheerful so- ciety. After having eyed this Perkin a little, and being grown, by his art, as we may suppose, as familiar with the man's humour as if he had known 220 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES him as many years as Mr. Barnard, Pray, Mr. Barnard, quoth he in writing, how comes it, you, that are so stanch and so stiff a whig, should be so acquainted and so particularly familiar with such an old papist, and so violent a Jacobite, as I know that Mr. Perkin (whom I never saw nor had any no- tice of in my life) to be? And pray, replied Mr. Barnard, what reason have you beyond a pun to take him for a Jacobite ? Must he be so because his name is Perkin ? I do assure you, in this you show yourself but little of a conjurer ; if you can tell no more of houses than you do of men, we may give over the search after the house you spoke of. (Here the reader must understand they discoursed on their fingers, and wrote by turns.) Mr. Camp- bell replied seriously, Laying a wager is no argu- ment in other things, I own, but in this I know it is, because I am sure, after we have laid the wager, he will fairly confess it among friends, since it will go no further ; and I, said Mr. Campbell, will lay what wager 3^0 u will apiece with you all round. Hereupon, Mr. Barnard, who had known him a great many years, was the first that laid, and many more, to the number of five or six, followed his ex- ample ; the decision of the matter was deferred till next day at the return of the old man to the inn, they being about to break up that night and go to bed. The next day being Sunday, the landlord carried his guests to see the country, and after a handsome walk, they came through the churchyard. They were poring upon the tombs ; no delight can be greater to Mr, Campbell than that ; and really, by the frequent walks he usually takes in Westminster abbey, and the churchyards adjacent to this metro- polis, one would imagine he takes delight to stalk along by himself on that dumb silent ground, where the characters of the persons are only to be known, OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 221 as his own meaning is, by writings and inscriptions on the marble. When they had sufficiently sur- veyed the churchyard, it grew near dinner-time, and they went homewards ; but before they had got many yards out of the churchyard, Mr. Campbell makes a full stop, pointing up to a house, and stop- ping his friends a little, he pulls out of his pocket a pencil and paper, and notes down the following words : That, that is the house my vision presented to me ; I could swear it to be the same, I know it to be the same, I am certain of it. The gentlemen with him remarked it, would not take any further notice at that time, intending to inquire into it with secrecy, and so went on to the inn to dinner. As merry as they had been the night before after supper, they were still more innocently cheerful this day after dinner, till the time of service begun. When the duty of the day was performed and over, they returned to divert and unbend their minds with pleasant but harmless conversation. I sup- pose nobody but a set of very great formalists will be offended with scandal or scruples, that to tra- vellers just ready to depart the town, Mr. Perkin came on that good day and decided the wagers, by owning to all the company, secrecy being first en- joined, that he was a Roman catholic, though no- body of the family knew it in so many years as he had lived there, which was before Mr. Campbell was born. This and other innocent speeches af- forded as much cheerfulness as the Lord's-day would allow of. On the next day, being Monday, they sent for one Mr. Toland Toler, an attorney of the place, to find out to whom that house belonged, but by all the inquiry that could possibly be made with con- venient secrecy, nobody could find it out for a long 222 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES time ; but at last it came to light, and appeared to be justly to a tittle as Mr. Campbell had predicted. Being now satisfied, the next day our three tra- vellers returned for London; and the two vocal men were very jocular upon their adventure, and by their outward gesticulations gave the prophetical mute his share of diversion. Mr. Barnard, as they passed into a farmhouse-yard, remarked that all the hogs fell a grunting and squeaking more and more as Mr. Campbell came nearer, (who, poor man! could know nothing of the jest, nor the cause of it, till they alighted and told it him by signs and writing,) said to Mr. Saxon, laughing, Now we have found out our house, we shall have only Mr. Camp- bell home again by himself, we have no further need of the devil that accompanied him to the country, up to town with us, there are other devils enow to be met with there he knows ; and so this, according to the fashion of his predecessor devils, is entered into the herd of swine. However, the event of this journey, to cut the story short, procured Mr. Saxon a great insight, upon inquiry, into several affairs belonging to him, of which he would otherwise have had no know- ledge ; and he is now engaged in a chancery suit to do himself justice, and in a fair way of recover- ing great sums of money, which, without the con- sultation he had with this dumb gentleman, he had in all likelihood never dreamt of. In the year 1711, a gentleman, whose name shall be, in this place, Amandus, famed for his ex- quisite talents in all arts and sciences, but particu- larly for his gentlemanlike and entertaining manner of conversation, whose company was affected by all men of wit, who grew his friends, and courted by all ladies of an elegant taste, who grew his admirers ; thi& accomplished gentleman, I say, came to Mr. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 223 Campbell, in order to propound a question to him, which was so very intricate, and so difficult to an- swer, that, if he did answer it, it might administer to himself and the ladies he brought with him, the pleasure of admiration in seeing a thing so wonder- ful in itself performed ; or, on the other hand, if he did not make a satisfactory reply to it, then it might afford him and the ladies a very great delight, in being the first that puzzled a man who had had the reputation for so many years of being capable of baffling all the wittiest devices and shrewd strata- gems that had been from time to time invented to baffle his skill and explode his penetration in the second-sight, and the arts which he pretended to. The persons whom Amandus brought with him, were the illustrious lady Delphina, distinguished for her great quality, but still more celebrated for her beauty, his own lady, the admired Amabella, and a young blooming pretty virgin whom we will call by the name of Adeodata, about which last lady, the question was to be put to Mr. Campbell. Adeodata, it seems, was the natural daughter of this very fine gentleman, who had never let her into the knowledge of her own birth, but had bred her up from her infancy un- der a borrowed name, in the notion that she was a relation's daughter, and recommended to his care in her infancy. Now the man that had the second- sight was to be tried ; it was now to be put to the proof if he could tell names or no ? Amandus was so much an unbeliever as to be willing to hazard the disco- very. Amabella and Delphina were strangers to her real name, and asked Duncan Campbell, not doubting but he would set down that which she or- dinarily went by. Amabella had indeed been told by Amandus, that Adeodata was the natural daughter of a near friend of his ; but who this near friend was remained a secret : that was the point which lay 224 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES upon our Duncan Campbell to discover. When the question was proposed to him, what her name was, he looked at her very steadfastly, and shook his head, and after some time he wrote down that it would be a very difficult name for him to fix upon. And truly so it proved ; he toiled for every letter till he sweated ; and the ladies laughed incontinently, imagining that he was in an agony of shame and confusion at finding himself posed. He desired Amandus to withdraw a little, for that he could not so well take a full and proper survey of ladies' faces when a gentleman was by. This disturbance and perplexity of his afforded them still more subject of mirth ; and that excuse was taken as a pretence, and a put-off to cover his shame the better, and hide from one at least, that he was but a downright bungler in what he pretended to be so wonderful an artist. However, after two hours hard sweat and labour, and viewing the face in different shades and lights, (for I must observe to the reader that there is a vast deal of difference, some he can tell in a minute or two with ease, some not in less than four or five hours, and that with great trouble) he un- deceived them with regard to his capacity. He wrote down that Adeodata's real name was Amanda, as being the natural daughter of Amandus. Del- phina and Amabella were surprised at the disco- very ; and Amandus, when he was called in, owning it a truth, his wife Amabella applauded the curious way of her coming by such a discovery, when Adeodata was just marriageble, took a liking to her as if her own daughter, and everything ended with profit, mirth, and cheerfulness. I could add a thousand more adventures of Mr. Campbell's life, but that would prove tedious ; and as the town has made a great demand for the book, it was thought more proper to conclude it here. The most di- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 225 verting of all, are to be found best to the life in original letters that passed between Mr. Campbell and his correspondents, some select ones of which will be shortly published in a little pocket volume, for the further entertainment of such readers as shall relish this treatise ; in which the author hopes he shallbe esteemed to have endeavoured at the intermingling of some curious disquisitions of learning, with entertaining passages, and to have ended all the merriest passages with a sober, in- structive, and edifying moral, which even to those who are not willing to believe the stories, is reck- oned sufficient to recommend even fables them- selves. !). 0. APPENDIX. It is not that Mr. Duncan Campbell stands in need of my arguments, to prove that he is in no respect liable to the acts of parliament made against fortune- tellers, &c, that I undertake the writing of this Ap- pendix, the true reason thereof being the more completely to finish this undertaking ; for having, in the body of the book itself, fully proved a second- sight, and that the same frequently happens to persons, some of them eminently remarkable for piety and learning, and have from thence accounted for the manner of Mr. Campbell's performing those things he professes, to the great surprise, and no less satisfaction of all the curious who are pleased to consult him ; and at the same time proved the law- fulness of such his performances from the opinions of some of the most learned in holy science ; I. thought it not improper to add the following short Appendix, being a summary of several acts of par- liament made against fortune-tellers, conjurers, Egyptians, sorcerers, pretenders to prophecy, &c, with some proper remarks, suited to our present purpose, as well to satisfy them who are fantastically wise, and obstinately shut their eyes against the most refulgent reason, and are wilfully deaf to the Q2 228 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES most convincing and persuasive arguments, and thereupon cry out, that Mr. Campbell is either an impostor and a cheat, or at least a person who acts by the assistance of unlawful powers ; as also to put to silence the no less waspish curs, who are always snarling at such whom providence has distinguished by more excellent talents than their neighbours. True merit is always the mark against which traducers level their keenest darts ; and wit and in- vention oftentimes join hands with ignorance and malice to foil those who excel. Art has no greater enemy than ignorance ; and were there no such thing as vice, virtue would not shine with half its lustre. Did Mr Campbell perform those wonderful things he is so deservedly famous for, as these ca- villers say, by holding intelligence with infernal powers, or by any unjustifiable means, I am of opinion he would find very few, in this atheistical age, who would open their mouths against him, since none love to act counter to the interest of that master they industriously serve. And did he, on the other hand, put the cheat upon the world, as they maliciously assert, I fancy he would then be more generally admired, especially in a country where the game is so universally, artfully, and no less profitably played, and that with applause, since those pretenders to wisdom merrily divide the whole species of mankind into the two classes of knaves and fools, fixing the appellation of folly only upon those whom they think not wise, that is, wicked enough to have a share with them in the profitable guilt. Our laws are as well intended by their wise makers to screen the innocent, as to punish the guilty; and where their penalties are remarkably severe, the guilt they punish is of a proportionable size. Art, which is a man's property, when acquired, claims a protection from those very laws which false OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 229 pretenders thereto are to be tried and punished by, or else all science would soon have an end ; for no man would dare make use of any talent providence had lent him, and his own industrious application had improved, should he be immediately tried and condemned by those statutes, which are made to suppress villains, by every conceited and half-learned pedant. It is true, indeed, those excellent statutes, which are made against a sort of people, who pretend to fortune-telling and the like, are such as are well warranted, as being built upon the best foundation, viz., religion and policy ; and were Mr. Campbell guilty of any such practice, as those are made to punish, I openly declare, that I should be so far from endeavouring to defend his cause, that I would be one of the first that should aggravate his crime, thereby to enforce the speedier execution of those laws upon him, which are made against such of- fenders. But when he is so far from acting, that he doth not even pretend to any such practice, or for countenancing the same in others, as is manifest from the many detections he has made of that sort of villany, which the book furnishes us with, I think myself sufficiently justified for thus pleading in his defence. I cannot but take notice, in reading the statutes made against such offenders, our wise legislature hath not in any part of them seemed so much as to imply that there are in reality any such wicked persons as they are made against, to wit, conjurers, &c, but that they are only pretenders to those in- fernal arts, as may reasonably be inferred from the nature of the penalties they inflict; for our first laws of that sort only inflicted a penalty which affected the goods and liberty of the guilty, and not their lives, though indeed they were afterwards 230 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES forced to heighten the punishment with a halter ; not that they were better convinced, as I humbly conceive, but because the criminals were most com- monly persons who had no goods to forfeit, and to whom their liberty was no otherwise valuable but as it gave them the opportunity of doing mischief. Indeed our law-books do furnish us with many instances of persons who have been tried and exe- cuted for witchcraft and sorcery, but then the wiser part of mankind have taken the liberty to condemn the magistrate, at that time of day, of too much in- consideration, and the juries of an equal share of credulity ; and those who have suffered for such crimes, have been commonly persons of the lowest rank, whose poverty might occasion a dislike of them in their fellow-creatures, and their too artless defence subject them to their mistaken justice ; so that, upon the whole, I take the liberty to conclude, and I hope not without good grounds, that those laws were made to deter men from an idle pretence to mysterious and unjustifiable arts, which, if too closely pursued, commonly lead them into the darkest villany, not only that of deceiving others, but, as far as in them lie, making themselves slaves to the devil ; and not to prevent and hinder men from useful inquiries, and from the practice of such arts, which though they are in themselves mysteri- ous yet are, and may be lawful. I would not however be thought, in contradiction to my former arguments, to assert that there never were, or that there now are, no persons such as wizards, sorcerers, &c, for by so doing I should be as liable to be censured for my incredulity, as those who defame Mr. Campbell on that account are for their want of reason and common honesty. Holy and profane writ, I confess, furnishes us with many instances of such persons ; but we must not OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 231 from thence hastily infer, that all those men are such who are spitefully branded with the odious guilt ; for were it in the devil's power to make every wicked man a wizard, and woman a witch, he soon would have agents enough to shake this lower world to atoms; but the Almighty, who restrains him, like- wise restrains those. Having premised thus much, I shall now proceed to consider some of the acts of parliament themselves ; the persons against whom they were made, and the necessity of making the same. And some of the first acts we meet with, were those which were made against a sort of people called Egyptians ; persons who, if in reality such, might, if any, be suspected of practising what we call the black art, the same having been for many ages encouraged in their country ; nay, so much has it been by them favoured, that it was introduced into their superstitious re- ligion, if I may without an absurdity call it so, and made an essential part thereof; and, I believe, Mahometanism has not much mended the matter, since it has imperiously reigned there, or in any re- spect reformed that idolatrous nation. Now the mischief these persons might do, being so much in the devil's power, among the unwary, was thought too considerable not to be provided against ; and therefore our wise legislature, the more effectually to prevent the same, by striking at the very founda- tion, made an act in the 22 Henry VIII. 8 : That if any, calling themselves Egyptians, do come into this realm, they shall forfeit all their goods; and being demanded, shall depart the realm within fifteen days, upon pain of imprisonment ; and the importers of them, by another act, were made liable to a heavy penalty. This act was continued by the 1 Philip and Mary. Conjuration, witchcraft, enchant- ment, and sorcery, to get money, or consume any 232 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES person in his body, members, or goods, or to provoke any person to unlawful love, was by the 33 Henry VIII. 14. and the 5 Elizabeth 16. and the 1 James I. 12. made felony; and by the same 33 Henry VIII. 14. it was made felony to declare to another any false prophecies upon arms, &c, but this act was repealed by the 1 Edward VI. 12. but by another act of the 3 and 4 of Edward VI. 15. it was again enacted, That all such persons who should pretend to prophecies, &c, should, upon conviction, for the first offence forfeit ten pounds, and one year's imprisonment ; and for the second offence, all his goods, and imprisonment for life. And by the 7 Edward VI. 11. the same was made to continue but till the then next sessions of parliament. And by the 5 Elizabeth 15. the same act was again re- newed against fantastical prophesiers, &c, but both those acts were repealed by the 1 James I. 12. Thus far we find, that for reasons of state, and for the punishment of particular persons, those acts were made and repealed, as occasion required, and not kept on foot, nor indeed were they ever made use of, as I can remember in my reading, against any persons whose studies led them into a useful inquiry into the nature of things, or a lawful search into the workings of nature itself, by which means many things are foretold long before they come to pass, as eclipses and the like, which astrologers successfully do, whose art has been in all ages held in so great esteem that the first monarchs of the East made it their peculiar study, by which means they deservedly acquired to themselves the name of Magi, or wise men ; but, on the contrary, were pro- vided against persons profligate and loose, who, under a pretence and mask of science, commit vile and roguish cheats ; and this will the more plainly appear, if we consider the letter and express meaning OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 233 of the following acts, wherein the persons I am speaking of, are described by such characters, which sufficiently prove the assertion ; for in the 39 of Elizabeth 4. it was enacted, That all persons calling themselves scholars, going about begging, seafaring men pretending losses of their ships and goods at sea, and going about the country begging, or using any subtle craft, feigning themselves to have knowledge in physiognomy, palmistry, or any other the like crafty science, or pretending that they can tell destinies, fortunes, or such like fantastical imagina- tions, shall be taken and deemed rogues, vagabonds, sturdy beggars, and shall be stripped naked from the middle upwards, and whipped till his or her body be bloody. And by the 1 James I. 12. for the better restraining of the said offences, and for the further punishing the same, it was further enacted, That any person or persons using witch- craft, sorcery, &c, and all their aiders, abettors, and counsellors, being convicted, and attainted of the same offences, shall suffer pain of death, as felons, without the benefit of clergy ; or to tell and declare in what place any treasure of gold and silver should or might be found in the earth, or other secret places ; or where goods or things lost or stolen should be found or become ; or to provoke any person to unlawful love, such offender to suffer im- prisonment for one whole year without bail or main- prise, and once in every quarter of the said year shall in some market-town, or upon the market-day, or at any such time as any fair shall be kept there, stand openly in the pillory by the space of six hours, and there shall openly confess his or their offence ; and for the second offence shall suffer death as felons, without the benefit of clergy. That these laws were made against a set of vil- lains, whose natural antipathy to honesty and la- 234 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES bour furnished them with pretensions to an un- common skill, thereby the more easily to gull and cheat the superstitiously credulous, and by that means discover from them some such secrets that might further them in perpetrating the more con- summate villany, is plain from the very words and expressions of the very acts themselves, and the description of the persons they are made against ; and not, as I before observed, to prevent and hin- der men from the lawful inquiry after useful; de- lightful, and profitable knowledge. Mr. Campbell, who has been long a settled and reputable inhabitant in many eminent parts of the city of London, cannot, I am sure, be looked upon as one of those these acts of parliament were made against, unless we first strip the acts them- selves of their own natural, express, and plain mean- ing, and clothe them with that which is more ob- scure, unnatural, forced, and constrained a practice ; which, if allowed, would make them wound the in- nocent and clear the guilty, and render them not our defence but our greatest evil; they would, by that means, become a perfect enigma, and be so far from being admired for their plainness, that they would be even exploded like the oracles of the hea- then for their double meaning. If Mr. Campbell has the second-sight, as is un- questionable, from the allowed maxim, that what has been may be again, and by that means can take a view of contingences and future events ; so long as he confines these notices of approaching occurrences to a good purpose, and makes use of them only innocently and charitably to warn per- sons from doing such things, that according to his conceptions would lead them into misfortune, or else in putting them upon such arts that may be of use and benefit to themselves and posterity, always OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL,. 235 having a strict regard to morality and religion, to which he truly adheres ; certainly, I think, he ought so much the more to be admired for the same, by how much the more this his excellent knowledge is surpassing that of other men, and not be therefore unjustly upbraided with the injurious character of a cheat, or an ill man : however, this I will presume to affirm, and I doubt not but to have my opinion confirmed by the learned sages of the law, that this his innocent practice, and I ven- ture to add, honest one too, doth by no means enti- tle him to the penalties of the before-mentioned laws made against fortune-tellers, and such sort of profligate wretches ; which it is as great an ab- surdity to decry, as it would be to call him, who is a settled and reputable inhabitant, a stroller or wandering beggar. Again ; it is true that Mr. Campbell has relieved many that have been supposed to have been be- witched, as is related and well attested in the book of his life ; but will any one from thence argue that he himself is a real conjurer, or wizard, because he breaks the chains by which those unhappy wretches were bound ? No, surely ; for if that were the case, we might then as well indict the physician who drives away a malignant distemper, and roots out its latent cause by his mysterious skill in plants and drugs ; or conclude that the judge, who condemns a criminal, is for the same reason guilty of the self- same crime for which the offender is so by him condemned. Persons who delight in such unnatu- ral conclusions, must certainly be in love with the greatest absurdities, and must entirely abandon their natural reason before they can be brought to conclude that the Prince of Darkness would assist men in destroying his own power. The best answer I can afford those men is silence ; 236 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES for if they will not argue upon the principles of rea- son, or be guided by her dictates, I think them no more fit to be contended with in a rational and decent manner than bedlamites, and such who are bereft of all understanding. A rod is the best ar- gument for the back of a fool, and contempt the best usage that ought to be shown to every head- strong and ignorant opponent. In a word, I know of no branch of Mr. Campbell's practice that bears the least resemblance to those crimes mentioned in the foregoing acts. That he can and doth tell people's names at first sight, though perfect strangers to him, is confessed by all who have made the curious inquiry at his hands ; but what part of the acts, I would fain know, is that against ? Knowledge, and a clear sight into things not common, is not only an allowable, but a com- mendable qualification ; and whether this know- ledge in him be inherent, accidental, or the result of a long study, the case is still the same ; since we are assured he doth it by no unlawful intelligence, or makes use of the same to any ill purpose, and therefore is undoubtedly as lawful as to draw natu- ral conclusions from right premises. Hard is the fate of any man to be ignorant, but much harder would his lot be if he were to be punished for being wise ; and, like Mr. Campbell, excelling others in this kind of knowledge. Much more might be said in defence of Mr. Campbell and the art he professeth, but as the ar- guments which are brought against him by his ene- mies on the one hand, are trivial and ill-grounded, I therefore think they deserve no further refu- tation ; so on the other, his innocency is too clear to require it. After having thus taken a survey of Mr. Camp- bell's acts, with regard to their legality according OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 287 to the statutes and the laws of the nation wherein he lives, we will consider next, whether, according to the stated rules of casuistry, among the great divines eminent for their authority, it may be law- ful for Mr. Campbell to predict, or for good Christian persons to visit his house, and consult him about his predictions. I have upon this head examined all the learned casuists I could meet with in ancient times, for I cannot meet, in my reading, with any moderns that treat thoroughly upon this case, or I should rather have chosen them, because, perhaps, the second-sight was less known in those ancient days than it has been since, and so might escape their notice. My design is first to give the reader a distinct summary of all that has been said of this matter, and to do it as succinctly and briefly as possible, and then to argue myself from what they agree upon as to this man's particular case. That the reader may have recourse to the authors themselves, if they have a curiosity, and find that I do not go about to impose upon their judgments, I will here tell the reader where he may find the whole contents of the following little abstract of divinity and casuistry, because it would be a tedious piece of work to set down the words of each of them distinctly, and quote them every one round at the end of their several different sentences, which tend to the same meaning, but I will strictly keep to the sense of them all ; and I here give the reader their names, and the places, that he may consult them himself, if his inclination leads him to be so curious : Thomas Aquinas, iv. Distin. 34. Qucestio. 1. Art. 3 ; Bona, ii. Dist 7. Art. 2. Qucest. 1 ; Joannes Major, iv. Dist 34. Qucest 2 ; Sylvester, Verbo Malefico. Qucest. 8 ; Rosella, Verb. Impedi- mentum, xv. cap. 18 ; Tabiena, Verb. Impedimen- 238 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES turn, 12 vers. ; Cajetan, torn. ii. Opusc. 12. de Ma- lefic ; Alphonsus, a Cast lib. x. de Justa Hceretieo- rum Punitione, cap. 1 5 ; Cosmus Philiarchus, de Ojffic. Sacerdot p. 2. lib. iii. cap. 11 ; Toletus, in Summa. lib. iv. cap. 16 ; Spineus, in Tract, de Strigibus ; Petrus Binsfield, in Tract, de Confes- sionibus Maleficorum. These divines have generally written upon impi- ous arts of magic, which they call by the name of divination ; and this divination, as they term it, they divide into two kinds ; the one, in which the devil is expressly invoked, to teach hidden and oc- cult things ; the other, in which he is tacitly called upon to do the same. An express invocation is by word or deed, by which a real pact is actually made with the devil, and that is a sin that affects the death of the soul, according to the laws of theology, and ought to affect the death of the body, accord- ing to civil and political laws. The tacit invoca- tion of demons is then only, when a man busies himself so far with such persons, that it is meet and just that the devil should be permitted to have to do with him, though it was opposite to the intention of the man. But then this express invocation is again subdi- vided into several species, according to the di- vers manners by which the devil instructs these men. The first is enchantment, which I need not de- scribe, and of which I will speak no more, because it is what everybody knows to be detestable, and nobody ought to know the art thereof. The second is divination by dreams, when any instructions are expected from the devil by way of dream, which is a capital crime. The third is called necromancy, which is, when by the use of blood and writing, or speaking cer- OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 239 tain verses, the dead seem to rise again, and speak and teach future things. For though the devil cannot recall a soul departed, yet he can, as some have thought, take the shape of the dead corpse, himself actuate it by his subtlety, as if it was in- formed with a soul. And some affirm, that by the divine permission the devil can do this, and spake so in the case of Samuel and Saul. But divines of a more solid genius attribute that power only to the deity, and say, with reason, that it is beyond the devil's capacity. But it is certain this was a divi- nation done in dead animals by the use of their blood, and therefore the word is derived from the Greek veKplv, which signifies dead, and Mavi^a, which signifies divination. The fourth species is called divination by the Pythians, which was taken from Apollo, the first diviner, as Thomas Aquinas says in his Secunda Secundce, Qucest. 95. Art. 3. The fifth is called geomancy, which is when the devil teaches anything by certain signs appearing in the earthly bodies, as in wood, iron, or polished stones, beryls, or glass. The sixth is named hydromancy, as when a de- mon teaches anything by appearances in the water. The seventh is styled aeromancy ; and it is when he informs people of such things by figures in the air. The eighth is entituled pyromancy ; that is, when it instructs people by forms appearing in the fire. The ninth is termed aruspicy ; which is when by signs appearing in the bowels of sacrificed animals the demon predicts at altars. Thus far as to express divination, or invocation of the devil, which is detestable ; and the very con- 240 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES suiting of persons that use such unlawful means is, according to the judgment of all casuists, the high road to eternal damration. Now as to tacit divination, or invocation of the devil, that is divided into two subaltern kinds* The first kind is, when for the sake of knowing hidden things, they make use of a vain and super- stitious disposition existing in things to judge from ; which disposition is not of a sufficient virtue to lead them to any real judgment. The second kind of tacit divination is, when that knowledge is sought by the disposition of those things which men effect on purpose and of their own accord, in order to come by and acquire that knowledge. Both these kinds of tacit divination are again subdivided into several species, as are particularly mentioned by St. Thomas, Secunda Secundce, Qucest 95. Art 3 ; Gregory de Valentine, torn. iii. Disput 6. Qucest. 12. Puncto 2 ; Toletus, in Summa. lib. iv. cap. 15 ; and Michael Medina, lib. ii. de Recta in Deumfide : post Sanctum Augusti- num. lib. ii. de Doct Christ cap. 19. et seq. The first of these kinds of tacit divination con- tains under it the following several species : — The first species is called Genethliacal, which is when from the movement or situation of the stars, men's nativities are calculated and inquired into so far, as that from such a search they pretend to de- duce the knowledge of human effects, and the con- tingent events that are to attend them. This Tho- mas Aquinas and Sixtus Quintus condemns ; but I shall, with humility and submission to greater judgments, inquire hereafter into their reasons, and give my opinion why I think this no evil art ; but I submit my opinion, if, after it is given, it is thought erroneous. OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 241 The second is augury, when anything is predicted from the chattering of birds, or the voice of ani- mals, and this may be either lawful or unlawful. If it comes from natural instinct, for brutes having only a sensitive soul, have their organs subject to the disposition of the greater bodies in which they are contained, and principally of all to the celestial bodies, his augury is not amiss. For if when crows are remarked to caw, as the vulgar phrase is, more than ordinary, it is, judging according to the in- stinct of their nature, if we expect rain, and we may reasonably depend upon it, we shall be right if we foretell rain to be at hand. But sometimes the devils actuate those brute animals to excite vain ideas in men, contrary to what the instinct of their nature compels them to. This is superstitious and unlawful, and forbid in holy writ. The third is aruspicy, when from the flight of birds, or any other motion of any animals whatso- ever, persons pretend to have an insight and a pe- netrative knowledge into occult and hidden matters. The fourth consists in omens, when, for example, a man from any words which others may have spoken on purpose, or by accident, pretends to gather a way of looking into and knowing any- thing of futurity. The fifth is chiromancy, which consists in mak- ing a pretence to the knowledge of future things by the figures and the lines of the hands ; and if it be by consulting the shoulder-bones of any beast, it goes by the name of spatulamancy. As the first kind of divination, by a tacit invoca- tion of the devil, is divided into the five species above mentioned; so also is the second kind of tacit divination, or invocation of the devil, divided into two species by St. Thomas of Aquin. Secunda d. c. R 242 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES Secundce, questione nonagesima quinta articulo tertio, and too tedious to insert here. Now all these ways are by these divines counted wicked, and I set them down that people may avoid them. For how many gipsies and pretenders to chiromancy have we in London and in the country ? How many that are for hydromancy, that pretend in water to show men mighty mysteries? And how many in geomancy, with their beryls and their glasses, that, if they are not under the insti- gation of the devil, propagate the scandal at least by being cheats, and who ought to be punished to the utmost severity, as our English laws enact ? Mr. Campbell, who hates, contemns, and abhors these ways, ought, methinks, to be encouraged by their being restrained ; and people of curious tem- pers, who always receive from him moral and good instructions, which make them happy in the con- duct of life, should be animated in a public manner to consult him, in order to divert the curious itch of their humours from consulting such wicked im- postors, or diabolical practisers, as too frequently abound in this nation, by reason of the inquisitive vulgar, who are more numerous in our climate, than any I ever read of. But now to argue the case of conscience with regard to his particular practice by way of the se- cond-sight, whether, in foro conscientice, it is law- ful for him to follow it, or others to consult him ? The divines above mentioned having never had any notice of that faculty in all likelihood, or if they had, never mentioning it, makes it a point more difficult for me to discuss ; but I think they have stated some cases, by the making of which my pre- mises, I can deduce from all the learned men I have above quoted, a conclusion in favour of our Mr. Duncan Campbell, and of those who consult him ; OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 243 but my opinion shall be always corrected by those who are wiser than myself, and to whom I owe en- tire submission. I take leave to fix these premises from them first, and to form my argument from them afterwards in the following manner : — First, It is allowed by all these divines, that a knowledge which one may have of future things within the order of nature, is and may be lawful. Secondly, They imply, that where justice is not violated, it is lawful both to predict and to consult. Thirdly, 3Iany of them, but particularly Aureolus, puts this question : Is it lawful to go to one that deals in the black art, to persuade them to cure any innocent body that another necromancer or dealer in the black art may have maliciously af- flicted and tormented with pains ? And some of these casuists, particularly Aureolus, say, it is lawful on such an occasion to go to such a con- jurer, because the end is not conjuration, but free- ing a person from it. x But I take leave to dissent from these great men, and think they are in a double mistake ; first, in stating the question, and then in making such an answer, provided the question had been stated right. The question is founded upon this supposition, which is passed by as granted, viz., that one necro- mancer could release a person bewitched by an- other, which is absolutely false ; for it is against the nature of the devil to be made an instrument to undo his own works of impiety. But admitting and not granting this to be possible, and the ques- tion to be rightly stated, why still these casusits are out in their answer ? It is lawful, reply they, be- cause the end of going to the conjurers, is not con- juration, but freeing a good person from it ; but the end is not the point here to be considered, it is 244 THE LIFE OF MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. the medium, which is bad, that is to be considered. It is by conjuration, according to their hypothesis, the other conjuration is to be dissolved ; and does not the common rule, that a man must not do evil that good may come of it, forbid this practice ? And to speak my opinion plainly in that case, the friend that should consult a conjurer for that end, would be only so kind to put his own soul in dan- ger of being guilty of hell torment's, to relieve his afflicted friend from some bodily pains, which it would be a virtue in him to suffer with patience and resignation. Others, almost all divines, indeed, agree, that it is and may be lawful to go to a conjurer that torments another, and give him money not to afflict the pa- tient any longer ; because that is only feeing him to desist from acting after his conjuring manner. These premises thus settled, if we allow the se- cond-sight to be inborn and inbred, and natural and common to some families, which is proved in the book ; and if all that Mr. Campbell has pre- dicted in that second-sighted way terminates with moral advice, and the profit of the consulter, and without the violation of justice to others, as the book shows all throughout ; if he can relieve from witch- craft, as it seems oath is to be had he can, which no one that deals in black art can do, why then I need not draw the conclusion, every reader will do it naturally ; they will avow all the strictest laws of casuistry and morality to be in favour of Mr. Campbell and his consulters. VERSES TO MR. CAMPBELL, ON THE HISTORY OF HIS LIFE AND ADVENTURES. I codrt no muse amidst the tuneful throng, Thy genii, Campbell, shall inspire my song ; The gentle summons every thought obeys, Wakens my soul, and tunes it all to lays. Among the thousand wonders thou hast shown, I, in a moment, am a poet grown ; The rising images each other meet, Fall into verse, and dance away with feet ; Now with thy Cupid and thy lamb I rove % Through ev'ry bloomy mead and fragrant grove. A thousand things I can myself divine, Thy little genii whispers them to mine ; Beyond the grave I see thy deathless fame, The fair and young all singing Campbell's name ; And Love himself — for Love and thou art friends, He joins the chorus, and his dart defends. What noisy talker can thy magic boast ? Let those dull wretches try who scorn thee most. a See Mr. Campbell's Life, p. 54. 246 VERSES O, sacred silence ! let me ever dwell, With the sweet muses, in thy lonely cell ! Or else bind up, in thy eternal chain, Scandal and noise, and all that talk in vain. M. Fowke. TO MRS. FOWKE, OCCASIONED BY THE FOREGOING VERSES. Sweet nightingale ! whose artful numbers show, Expressive eloquence to silent woe, Sing on, and in thy sex's power presume, By praising Campbell, to strike nations dumb Whene'er you sing, silent, as he, they'll stand, Speak by their eyes, grow eloquent by hand : Tongues are confusion, but as learnt by you, All but Pythagoras's doctrine's true ; Campbell and he taught silence — had he heard How much thy lays to silence were preferr'd, He had recanted from thy powerful song, And justly wish'd each organ had a tongue. But could he see, what you, in every line, Prophetic tell of Campbell's sight divine, Like Croesus's sons his loosened nerves must break, And ask the cause — or make his Campbell speak. G. S. TO MR. CAMPBELL. 247 TO MR. CAMPBELL. Milton's immortal wish a you sure must feel, To point those fates which you to all reveal ; If second-sight so much alarms mankind, What transports must it give to know thy mind ? Thy book is but the shadow of thy worth, Like distant lights, which set some picture forth. But if the artist's skill we nearer trace, And strictly view each feature of the face, We find the charm that animates the whole, And leave the body to adore the soul. Milton's immortal wish you sure must feel, To point those fates which you to all reveal. I. Philips. a To see and tell Of things invisible to mortal sight. Paradise Lost. 248 VERSES THE PARALLEL TO MR. CAMPBELL. As Denham sings, mysterious 'twas, the same Should be the prophet's and the poet's name a ; But while the sons of genius join to praise, What thine presaging dictates to their lays, The things they sweetly sing, and you foreshow, Open the Sampson riddle to our view ; Strong are thy prophecies, their numbers sweet, And with the lion combs of honey meet. Late on fantastic cabalistic schemes, Of waking whimsies, or of feverish dreams, New cobweb threads of poetry were spun, In gaudy snares, like flies, were witlings won, Their brains entangled, and our art undone. Pope, first, descended from a monkish race, Cheapens the charms of art, and daubs her face ; a (Vates) See the Progress of Learning. TO MR. CAMPBELL. 249 From Gabalis b his mushroom fictions rise, Lop off his sylphs — and his Belinda dies ; The attending insects hover in the air, No longer than they're present is she fair ; Some dart those eyebeams, which the youths be- guile, And some sit conquering in a dimpling smile. Some pinch the tucker, and some smooth the smock, Some guard an upper, some a lower lock ; But if these truant body-guards escape, In whip the gnomes and strait commit a rape ; The curling honours of her head they seize, Hairs less in sight, or any hairs they please ; But if to angry frowns her brow she bends, Upon her front some sullen gnome descends, Whisks through the furrows with its airy form, Bristles her eyebrows and ' directs the storm.' As wide from these are Addisonian themes, As angels' thoughts are from distempered dreams ; Spenser and he, to image nature, knew, Like living persons, vice and virtue drew : At once instructed and well pleas'd we read, While in sweet morals these two poets lead, No less to wisdom than to wit pretence, They led by music, but they led to sense. But Pope scarce ever force to fancy joins, With dancing-master's feet equips his lines, Plumes empty fancy, and in tinsel shines. Or if by chance his judgment seems to lead, Where one poor moral faintly shows its head, b See the History of the Count de Gabalis, from whence he has taken the machinery of his Rape of the Lock. c Mrs. F — m-r. 250 VERSES 'Tis like a judge, that reverently drest, Peeps through the pageants at a lord may Ys feast ; By starts he reasons, end seems wise by fits, Such wit's call'd wisdom, that has lost its wits. Unnam'd by me this witling bard had been, Had not the writer's caused the reader's sin ; But less by comedies and lewd romances, Are ruin'd, less by French lascivious dances, Than by such rhymers' masqueraded fancies. From such the root of superstition grew, Whose old charms fertile, daily branch'd in new ; From such chimeras first inspired, the fair The conj'rer's ring approach'd, and Jesuit's chair ; Throng'd to the doors where magic rogues divin'd, And sold out ignesfatui to the mind. Wizards and Jesuits differ but in name, Both demon's envoys, and their trade the same ; Weak wills they lead, and vapour'd minds command, And play the game into each others' hand ; Like spiritual jugglers at the cup and ball, Rising by foolish maids, that long to fall. Some into love they damn, and some they pray, For greensick minds are caught a different way ; To the same end, tho' several paths, they run, Priests to undo, and maids to be undone ; Some blacker charms, some whiter spells cajole, As some lick wall and some devour a coal. Here ladies, strong in vapours, see men's faces Imprinted in the conjurer's dazzling glasses, There, when, in spring time, the too praying priest, Toasts, and does something better, — to the best A spouse is promised on next Baptist's d feast. d See the Dedication of Mr. Campbell's Life. TO MH. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 251 First some young contrite rake's enjoined to marry, Lest — madam's forc'd to squeak for't — or, mis- carry : In June, the lass does to the fields repair, Where good sir Domine just took the air. When, O strange wonder ! near a plaintain root, She finds a coal — and so a spouse to boot. She longs to dream — and to secure the sport That very day the youth design'd — must court, He does — she struck with rapture and delight. Bespeaks her fancy — strongly — dreams at night. The yielding fair, the ravish'd youth obtains, A maid she passes — so his child's free gains, He has the pleasure, yet is sav'd the pains. Thus when priest's wench — to cure the growing evil Poor St. John Baptist must forerun the devil. But if the ladies fall, at fall of leaf, Or in the winter — still there's fresh relief ; Let her lace close four months, and if she can, St. Agnes e heals the breach and brings the man. Thus a lewd priest to vapour'd virgins cants, And into pimps reverts his vestal saints. O ! dire effects of mask'd impiety ! And shall they, Christian muse ! have aids from thee ; Wilt thou, like witty heathens, lewdly given, To a Gehenna metamorphose Heaven? Wilt thou ? — O no — forbid th' unhallow'd song, Such profanations to Rome's bard belong. Let one, who gods and goddesses adores, Paint them like rakes and bullies, bawds, and whores. c See Mr. Campbell's Dedication. 252 VERSES Our genii, Campbell, shall be all divine, Shall high o'er theirs as much distinguish' d shiae, As o'er such priests or chiromancers, thine. Thine, which does future time's events command To leap to sight, and in thy presence stand; Thine, whose eyes glowing with a gifted ray, New roads of life o'er wisdom's Alps survey, , And guide benighted travellers to day. Let me, for once, a daring prophet be, Mark from this hour — and poetry thoul't see Date a new era from thy book and thee ; Thy book, where, thro' the stories, thou hast laid, All moral wisdom's to the mind convey'd ; And thus far prophecies each page, that all Must rise by virtues, or by vices fall. Poets shall blush to see their wit outdone, Resume their reason and assert its throne, Shall fables still for virtue's sake commend, And wit the means, shall wisdom make its end. Who hopes to please, shall strive to please bv pains, Shall gaining fame, earn hard whate'er he gains And Denham's morals join to Denham's strains. Here paint the Thames f i when running to the sea Like mortal life to meet eternity.' There show both kings and subjects 'one excess, Makes both, by striving to be greater, less.' Shall climb and sweat, and falling, climb up still, Before he gains the height of Cooper's Hill. In Windsor Forest, if some trifling grace Gives, at first blush, the whole a pleasing face, 'Tis wit, 'tis true ; but then 'tis common-place. f See Cooper's Hill. TO MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 253 The landscape-writer branches out a wood, Then digging hard fort, finds a silver flood. Here paints the woodcock quiv'ring in the air, And there, the bounding stag and quaking hare. Describes the pheasants scarlet-circled eye, And next the slaught'ring gun that makes him die. From common epithets that fame derives, By which his most uncommon merit lives. Tis true ! if finest notes alone could show, (Tun'd justly high or regularly low,) That we should fame to these mere vocals give, Pope more, than we can offer, should receive. For, when some gliding river is his theme, His lines run smoother than the smoothest stream ; Not so, when thro' the trees fierce Boreas blows, The period blust'ring with the tempest grows. But what fools periods read, for periods' sake ? Such chimes improve not heads, but make 'em ache; Tho' strict in cadence on the numbers rub, Their frothy substance is whip-syllabub ; With most seraphic emptiness they roll, Sound without sense, and body without soul. Xot such the bards that give you just applause, Each, from intrinsic worth, thy praises draws, florals, in ev'ry page, where'er they look, They find divinely scatter'd thro' thy book : They find thee studious with praiseworthy strife, To smooth the future roads of human life, To help the weak, and to confirm the strong, Make our griefs vanish, and our bliss prolong, With Phineus' equal find thy large desert, And in thy praise would equal Milton's art. Some fools, we know, in spite of nature born, Would make thee theirs, as they are mankind's scorn, 254 VERSES For still 'tis one of truth's unerring rules, No sage can rise without a host of fools. Coxcombs, by whose eternal din o'ercome, The wise, in just revenge, might wish them dumb, Say, on the world your dumbness you impose, And give you organs they deserve to lose. Impose, indeed, on all the world you would, If you but held your tongue, because you could ; Tis hard to say, if keeping silence still, In one, who, could he speak, would speak with skill, Is worse, or talk in these, who talk so ill. Why on that tongue should purposed silence dwell, Whence every word would drop an oracle ? More fools of thy known foresight make a jest, For all hate greatest gifts who share the least, (As Pope calls Dry den often to the tests) Such from thy pen, should Irwin's sentence 11 wait, And at the gallows own the judge of fate. Or, while with feeble impotence they rail, Write wonders on, and with the wise prevail. Sooner shall Denham cease to be renown'd, Or Pope for Denham's sense quit empty sound, To Addison's immortal heights shall rise, Or the dwarf reach him in his native skies. Sooner shall real gipsies grow most fair, Or false ones mighty truths like thine declare, Than these poor scandal-mongers hit their aim, And blemish thine or Curll's acknowledg'd fame. Great Nostradamus thus, his age advis'd, The mob his counsels jeer'd, some bards ! despis'd s See many places of his notes on Homer. h See Mr. Campbell's Life, page 106. 1 Alluding to this verse, " sed cum falsa Damus, nil nisi Nostra Damus." TO MR. DUNCAN CAMPBELL. 255 Him still, neglecting these his genius fir'd, A king encourag'd, and the world admir'd ; Greater (as times great tide increas'd) he grew, When distant ages proved what truths he knew ; Thy nobler book a greater king received, Whence 1 predict, and claim to be believ'd, That by posterity, less fame shall be To Nostradamus granted, than to thee ; Thee ! whom the best of Kings does so defend, And (myself barring) the best bards commend. H. Stanhope. Whitehall, June 6th, 1720. A REMARKABLE PASSAGE OF AN APPARITION. 1665. In the beginning of this year, a disease happened in this town of Launceston, and some of my scholars died of it. Among others who fell under the ma- lignity then triumphing, was John Eliot, the eldest son of Edward Eliot of Treberse, esq., a stripling of about sixteen years of age, but of more than common parts and ingenuity. At his own particular request I preached at the funeral, which happened on the 20th day of June, 1665. In my discourse (ut mos reiq ; lociq ; postulabai) I spake some words in commendation of the young gentleman ; such as might endear his memory to those that knew him, and withal tended to preserve his example to the fry which went to school with him, and were to continue there after him. An ancient gentleman, who was then in the church, was much affected with the discourse, and was often heard to repeat the same evening, one expression I then used out of Virgil ; Et puer ipsefuit cantari dignus. — The reason why this grave gentleman was so con- cerned at the character, was a reflection he made upon a son of his own, who being about the same age, and but a few months before not unworthy of d. c. s 258 A REMARKABLE PASSAGE the like character I gave of the young Mr. Eliot, was now, by a strange accident, quite lost, as to his parents' hopes, and all expectations of any further comfort by him. The funeral rites being over, I was no sooner come out of the church, but I found myself most courteously accosted by this old gentleman; and with an unusual importunity, almost forced against my humour to see his house that night ; nor could I have rescued myself from his kindness, had not Mr. Eliot interposed and pleaded title to me for the whole day, which, as he said, he would resign to no man. Hereupon I got loose for that time, but was constrained to leave a promise behind me, to wait upon him at his own house the Monday following. This then seemed to satisfy, but before Monday came I had a new message to request me that if it were possible I would be there the Sunday. The second attempt I resisted, by answering that it was against my convenience, and the duty which mine own people expected from me. Yet was not the gentle- man at rest, for he sent me another letter the Satur- day, by no means to fail the Monday, and so to order my business as to spend with him two or three days at least. I was indeed startled at so much eagerness, and so many dunnings for a visit, without any business ; and began to suspect that there must needs be some design in the bottom of all this excess of courtesy. For I had no familiarity, scarce com- mon acquaintance with the gentleman, or his family ; nor could I imagine whence should arise such a flush of friendship on the sudden. On the Monday I went and paid my promised devoir, and met with entertainment as free and plentiful, as the invitation was importunate. There also I found a neighbouring minister, who pretended to call in accidentally, but by the sequel I suppose OF AN APPARITION. 259 it otherwise. After dinner this brother of the coat undertook to show me the gardens, where as we were walking, he gave me the first discovery of what was mainly intended in all this treat and com- plement. First he began to tell the infortunity of the family in general, and then gave instance in the youngest son. He related what a hopeful sprightly lad he lately was, and how melancholic and sottish he was now grown. Then did he with much passion lament that his ill-humour should so incredibly subdue his reason ; for, said he, the poor boy believes himself to be haunted with ghosts, and is confident that he meets with an evil spirit in a certain field, about half a mile from this place, as often as he goes that way to school. In the midst of our twattle, the old gentleman and his lady, as observing their cue most exactly, came up to us. Upon their approach, and pointing me to the arbour, the parson renews the relation to me, and they, the parents of the youth, confirmed what he said, and added many minute circumstances, in a long narrative of the whole ; in fine, they all three desired my thoughts and advice in the affair. I was not able to collect thoughts enough on the sudden, to frame a judgment upon what they had said. Only I answered, that the thing which the youth reported to them, was strange, yet not incre- dible, and that I knew not then what to think or say of it, but if the lad would be free to me in talk, and trust me with his counsels, I had hopes to give them a better account of my opinion the next day. I had no sooner spoken so much, but I perceived myself in the springle their courtship had laid for me ; for the old lady was not able to hide her im- patience, but her son must be called immediately ; this I was forced to comply with, and consent to, so s2 260 A REMARKABLE PASSAGE that drawing off from the company to an orchard near by, she went herself, and brought him to me, and left him with me. It was the main drift of all these three to persuade me, that either the boy was lazy, and glad of any excuse to keep from the school, or that he was in love with some wench, and ashamed to confess it ; or that he had a fetch upon his father to get money and new clothes, that he might range to London after a brother he had there ; and therefore they begged of me to discover the root of the matter ; and accordingly to dissuade, advise, or reprove him ; but chiefly by all means to undeceive him as to the fancy of ghosts and spirits. J soon entered a close conference with the youth, and at first was very cautelous not to displease him, but by smooth words to ingratiate myself and get w r ithin him, for I doubted he would be too distrust- ful, or too reserved. But we had scarce passed the first situation, and began to speak to the business, before I found that there needed no policy to screw myself into his heart ; for he most openly, and with all obliging candour, did aver, that he loved his book, and desired nothing more than to be bred a scholar; that he had not the least respect for any of woman- kind, as his mother gave out ; and that the only re- quest he would make to his parents was, that they would but believe his constant assertions, concern- ing the woman he was disturbed with in the field, called the Higher-Broom-Quartils. He told me with all naked freedom, and a flood of tears, that his friends were unkind and unjust to him, neither to believe nor pity him : and that if any man, making a bow to me, would but go with him to the place, he might be convinced that the thing was real, &c. By this time he found me apt to compassionate OF AN APPARITION. 261 his condition, and to be attentive to his relation of it ; and therefore he went on in this manner. This woman, which appears to me, said he, lived a neighbour here to my father; and died about eight years since ; her name Dorothy Dingley, of such a stature, such age, and such complexion. She never speaks to me, but passeth by hastily, and always leaves the footpath to me ; and she commonly meets me twice or three times in the breadth of the field. It was about two months before 1 took any notice of it, and though the shape of the face was in my memory, yet I could not recall the name of the person ; but without more thoughtf illness, I did suppose it was some woman who lived thereabout, and had frequent occasion that way. Nor did I imagine anything to the contrary, before she began to meet me constantly morning and evening, and always in the same field, and sometimes twice or thrice in the breadth of it. The first time t took notice of her, was about a year since ; and when I first began to suspect and believe it to be a ghost, I had courage enough not to be afraid ; but kept it to myself a good while, and only wondered very much at it. I did often speak to it, but never had a word in answer. Then I changed my way, and went to school the under horse road, and then she always met me in the narrow lane, between the quarry park and the nursery, which was worse. At length I began to be terrified at it, and prayed continually that God would either free me from it, or let me know the meaning of it. Night and day, sleeping and waking, the shape was ever running in my mind; and I often did repeat these places of scripture; with that he takes a small Bible out of his pocket, Job. vii. 14; Thou scarest me with dreams, 262 A REMARKABLE PASSAGE and terrifiest me through visions ; and Deut. xxviii. 67 ; In the morning thou shalt say, would God it were evening; and at evening thou shalt say, would God it were morning, for the fear of thine heart, whereivith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see. I was very much pleased with the lad's ingenuity, in the application of these pertinent scriptures to his condition, and desired him to proceed. Thus, said he, by degrees, I grew very pensive, insomuch that it was taken notice of by all our family ; whereupon being urged to it, I told my brother William of it ; and he privately acquainted my father and mother ; and they kept it to them- selves for some time. The success of this discovery was only this ; they did sometimes laugh at me ; sometimes chide me, but still commanded me to keep my school, and put such fopperies out of my head. 1 did accordingly go to school often, but always met the woman in the way. _ This and much more to the same purpose, yea, as much as held a dialogue of near two hours, was our conference in the orchard ; which ended with my proffer to him, that, without making any privy to our intents, I would next morning walk with him to the place, about six o'clock. He was even trans- ported with joy at the mention of it, and replied, But will you sure, sir ? will you sure, sir ? thank God, now I hope I shall be believed. From this conclusion we retired into the house. The gentleman, his wife, and Mr. Sam, were im- patient to know the event, insomuch that they came out of the parlour into the hall to meet us ; and seeing the lad look cheerfully, the first compliment from the old man was, Come, Mr. Ruddle, you have talked with Sam, I hope now he will have more wit ; an idle boy, an idle boy. At these words the OF AN APPARITION. 263 lad ran up the stairs to his chamber, without reply- ing ; and I soon stopped the curiosity of the three expectants, by telling them I had promised silence, and was resolved to be as good as my word ; but when things were riper they might know all ; at present, I desired them to rest in my faithful pro- mise, that I would do my utmost in their service, and for the good of their son. With this they were silenced, I cannot say satisfied. The next morning, before five o'clock, the lad was in my chamber, and very brisk ; I arose and went with him. The field he led me to I guessed to be twenty acres, in an open country, and about three furlongs from any house. We went into the field, and had not gone above a third part, before the spectrum, in the shape of a woman, with all the circumstances he had described her to me in the orchard the day before, (as much as the sud- denness of its appearance and evanition would per- mit me to discover,) met us and passed by. I was a little surprised at it ; and though I had taken up a firm resolution to speak to it, yet I had not the power, nor indeed durst I look back, yet I took care not to show any fear to my pupil and guide, and therefore only telling him that I was satisfied in the truth of his complaint, we walked to the end of the field and returned, nor did the ghost meet us at that time above once. I perceived in the young man a kind of boldness mixed with astonishment ; the first caused by my presence, and the proof he had given of his own relation, and the other by the sight of his persecutor. In short, we went home ; I somewhat puzzled, he much animated. At our return, the gentle- woman (whose inquisitiveness had missed us) watched to speak with me; I gave her a conve- nience, and told her that my opinion was, that her 264 A REMARKABLE PASSAGE son's complaint was not to be slighted nor altogether discredited, yet that my judgment in his case was not settled. I gave her caution, moreover, that the thing might not take wind, lest the whole country should ring with what we yet had no assurance of. In this juncture of time I had business which would admit no delay, wherefore I went for Laun- ceston that evening, but promised to see them again next week ; yet I was prevented by an occasion which pleaded a sufficient excuse, for my wife was that week brought home from a neighbour's house very ill. However, my mind was upon the ad- venture ; I studied the case ; and about three weeks after went again, resolving by the help of God to see the utmost. The next morning, being the 27th day of July, 1665, I went to the haunted field by myself, and walked the breadth of it without any encounter ; I returned, and took the other walk, and then the spectrum appeared to me, much about the same place I saw it before, when the young gentleman was with me. In my thoughts it moved swifter than the time before, and about ten feet distant from me on my right hand, insomuch that I had not time to speak, as I determined with myself beforehand. The evening of this day, the parents, the son, and myself, being in the chamber where I lay, I propounded to them our going altogether to the place next morning, and some asseveration that there was no danger it, we all resolved upon it. The morning being come, lest we should alarm the family of servants, they went under the pretence of seeing a field of wheat, and I took my horse and fetched a compass another way, and so met at the stile we had appointed. Thence we all four walked leisurely into the quartils, and had passed above half the field before OF AN APPARITION. 265 the ghost made appearance. It then came over the stile just before us, and moved with that swiftness, that by the time we had gone six or seven steps it passed by. I immediately turned head and ran after it, with the young man by my side ; we saw it pass over the stile at which we entered, but no further ; I stepped upon the hedge at one place, he at another, but could discern nothing ; whereas I dare aver that the swiftest horse in England could not have conveyed himself out of sight in that short space of time. Two things I observed in this day's appearance. 1. That a spaniel dog, who followed the company unregarded, did bark and run away as the spectrum passed by ; whence it is easy to conclude that it was not our fear or fancy which made the appa- rition. 2. That the motion of the spectrum was not gra- datim, or by steps and moving of the feet, but a kind of gliding, as children upon the ice, or a boat down a swift river, which punctually answers the descriptions the ancients gave of the motion of their Lemures, which was, Kara pv^v aepiov kou oq[at}v airapavoSio-TGv. Heliodor. But to proceed ; this ocular evidence clearly convinced, but withal strangely affrighted, the old gentleman and his wife, who knew this Dorothy Dingley in her lifetime, were at her burial, and now plainly saw her features in this present apparition. I encouraged them as well as I could ; but after this they went no more. However, I was resolved to proceed, and use such lawful means as God hath discovered, and learned men have successfully practised, in these unvulgar cases. 266 A REMARKABLE PASSAGE The next morning, being Thursday, I went out very early by myself, and walked for about an hours space in meditation and prayer in the field next adjoining to the quartils. Soon after five, I stepped over the stile into the disturbed field, and had not gone above thirty or forty paces before the ghost appeared at the further stile. I spake to it with a loud voice, in some such sentences as the way of these dealings directed me, whereupon it approached but slowly, and when I came near, it moved not. I spake again, and it answered in a voice neither very audible nor intelligible. I was not in the least terrified, and therefore persisted until it spake again and gave me satisfaction. But the work could not be finished at this time ; where- fore, the same evening, an hour after sunset, it met me again near the same place, and after a few words of each side it quietly vanished, and neither doth appear since, nor ever will more, to any man's disturbance. The discourse in the morning lasted about a quarter of an hour. These things are true, and I know them to be so with as much certainty as eyes and ears can give me, and until I can be persuaded that my senses do deceive me about their proper object ; and by that persuasion deprive myself of the strongest inducement to believe the Christian re- ligion, I must and will assert that these things in this paper are true. As for the manner of my proceeding, I find no reason to be ashamed of it, for I can justify it to men of good principles, discretion, and recondite learning, though in this case I choose to content myself in the assurance of the thing, rather than be at the unprofitable trouble to persuade others to believe it, for I know full well with what difficulty relations of so uncommon a nature and practice, OF AN APPARITION. 267 obtain belief. He that tells such a story, may ex- pect to be dealt withal as a traveller in Poland by the robbers, viz., first murdered and then searched ; first condemned for a liar, or superstitious, and then (when it is too late) have his reasons and proofs examined. This incredulity may be at- tributed, 1. To the infinite abuses of the people, and im- positions upon their faith by the cunning monks and friars, &c., in the days of darkness and popery, for they made apparitions as often as they pleased, and got both money and credit by quieting the terricu- lamenti vulgi, which their own artifice had raised. 2. To the prevailing of Somatism and the Hob- bean principle in these times, which is a revival of the doctrine of the Sadducees, and as it denies the nature, so cannot consist with the apparition of spirits ; of which see, Leviath. P. I. c. 12. 3. To the ignorance of men in our age, in this peculiar and mysterious part of philosophy and religion, namely, the communication between spirits and men. Not one scholar of ten thousand (though otherwise of excellent learning) knows anything of it, or the way how to manage it. This ignorance breeds fear, and abhorrence of that which other- wise might be of incomparable benefit to mankind. But I being a clergyman, and young, and a stranger in these parts, do apprehend silence and secrecy to be my best security. In rebus abstrusissimis abundam cautela non nocet, September 4th, 1665. 268 A REMARKABLE PASSAGE POSTSCRIPT. It is possible that the unacquaintedness of some men with church history, and the writings of the ancient fathers, may be one cause of their prejudice against things and narratives of this nature ; I could cite out of them hundreds of passages in confirma- tion, a pari, of what I have now done and written. But a single testimony shall serve to fill up this page. Saint Cyprian a was a father of the third cen- tury, contemporary with Origen, Tertullian, Lac- tantius, Clem. Alexand., and other learned men. Observe his words : — S. Cypriani Epist. ad Demetrium Ethnicum, p. 328. Si audire velles et videre quando spiritus mali a nobis adjurantur et torquentur spiritualibus Jia- gris ; quando dcemones ejulantes et gementes humana voce venturum judicium confitentur : videbis nos rogari ab Us quos tu rogas, et tamen ab lis quos tu adoras : videbis sub manu nostra stare vinctos et tremere captivos, quos tu veneraris ut dominos, Certe vel sic in erroribus tuis confundi poteris, cum conspexeris et audieris deos, tuos quid sint, nostra interrogatione, statim prodere, tyc. See Pamelius's Notes on Tertullian, n. 64. " If you would hear and see, when evil spirits are by us adjured and put to spiritual torture ; a St. Cyprianus Episcopus Carthagin. Martirio hono- ratus An. Dom. 250. OF AN APPARITION. 269 when the very devils, groaning and lamenting with a human voice, confess a future judgment ; you shall hear us entreated by those whom you entreat, and by those whom you adore ; you shall see those stand fettered as it were under our hands, and tremble like captive slaves, whom you worship as deities. Certainly you must be thus confounded in your errors, when you shall see and hear your gods, upon questions we put to them, immediately betray what they are.'' THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, OK GREAT BRITAIN'S WONDER ; CONTAINING : I. A faithful and very surprising Account how Dickory Cronke, a Tinner's son, in the County of Cornwall, was born Dumb, and continued so for Fifty-eight Years ; and how, some days before he died, he came to his Speech ; with Memoirs of his Life, and the Manner of his Death. II. A Declaration of his Faith and Principles in Reli- gion; with a Collection of Select Meditations, com- posed in his Retirement. III. His Prophetical Observations upon the Affairs of Europe, more particularly of Great Britain, from 1720 to 1729. The whole extracted from his Original Papers, and confirmed by unquestionable Authority. TO WHICH IS ANNEXED HIS ELEGY, WRITTEN BY A YOUNG CORNISH GENTLEMAN, OF EXETER COLLEGE IN OXFORD. WITH AN EPITAPH BY ANOTHER HAND. 6 Non quis, sed quid." L ND ON: Printed for and Sold by Thomas Bickerton, at the Crown, in Paternoster Row. 1719. PREFACE. The formality of a preface to this little book might have been very well omitted, if it were not to gratify the curiosity of some inquisitive people, who, I foresee, will be apt to make objections against the reality of the narrative. Indeed the public has too often been imposed upon by fictitious stories, and some of a very late date, so that I think myself obliged by the usual respect which is paid to candid and impartial readers, to acquaint them, by way of introduction, with what they are to expect, and what they may depend upon, and yet with this caution too, that it is an indication of ill nature or ill manners, if not both, to pry into a secret that is industriously con- cealed. However, that there may be nothing wanting on my part, I do hereby assure the reader, that the papers from whence the following sheets were ex- tracted, are now in town, in the custody of a person of unquestionable reputation, who, I will be bold to say, will not only be ready, but proud, to produce them upon a good occasion, and that I think is as much satisfaction as the nature of this case requires. d. c. T IV PREFACE. As to the performance, it can signify little now to make an apology upon that account, any further than this, that if the reader pleases he may take notice that what he has now before him was col- lected from a large bundle of papers, most of which were writ in shorthand, and very ill-digested. However, this may be relied upon, that though the language is something altered, and now and then a word thrown in to help the expression, yet strict care has been taken to speak the author's mind, and keep as close as possible to the meaning of the original. For the design, I think there is nothing need be said in vindication of that. Here is a dumb philosopher introduced to a wicked and de- generate generation, as a proper emblem of virtue and morality ; and if the world could be persuaded to look upon him with candour and impartiality, and then to copy after him, the editor has gained his end, and would think himself sufficiently re- compensed for his present trouble. THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, OR GREAT BRITAIN'S WONDER PART I. Among the many strange and surprising events that help to fill the accounts of this last century, I know none that merit more an entire credit, or are more fit to be preserved and handed to pos- terity than those I am now going to lay before the public. Dickory Cronke, the subject of the following narrative, was born at a little hamlet, near St. Co- lumn, in Cornwall, on the 29th of May, 1660, being the day and year in which king Charles the Second was restored. His parents were of mean extraction, but honest, industrious people, and well beloved in their neighbourhood. His father's chief business was to work at the tin mines ; his mother stayed at home to look after the children, of which they had several living at the same time. Our Dickory was the youngest, and being but a sickly child, had always a double portion of her care and tender- ness. It was upwards of three years before it was dis- covered that he was born dumb, the knowledge of t2 b THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, which at first gave his mother great uneasiness, but finding soon after that he had his hearing, and all his other senses to the greatest perfection, her grief began to abate, and she resolved to have him brought up as well as their circumstances and his capacity would permit. As he grew, notwithstanding his want of speech, he every day gave some instance of a ready genius, and a genius much superior to the country children, insomuch that several gentlemen in the neighbourhood took particular notice of him, and would often call him Restoration Dick, and give him money, &c. When he came to be eight years of age, his mo- ther agreed with a person in the next village, to teach him to read and write, both which, in a very short time, he acquired to such perfection, especially the latter, that he not only taught his own brothers and sisters, but likewise several young men and women in the neighbourhood, which often brought him in small sums, which he always laid out in such necessaries as he stood most in need of. In this state he continued till he was about twenty, and then he began to reflect how scan- dalous it was for a young man of his age and cir- cumstances to live idle at home, and so resolves to go with his father to the mines, to try if he could get something towards the support of himself and the family ; but being of a tender constitution, and often sick, he soon perceived that sort of business was too hard for him, so was forced to return home and continue in his former station ; upon which he grew exceeding melancholy, which his mother ob- serving, she comforted him in the best manner she could, telling him that if it should please God to take her away, she had something left in store for him, which would preserve him against public want. OR GREAT BRITAIN S WONDER. 7 This kind assurance from a mother whom he so dearly loved gave him some, though not an entire satisfaction ; however he resolves to acquiesce un- der it till Providence should order something for him more to his content and advantage, which, in a short time happened according to his wish. The manner was thus : — One Mr. Owen Parry, a Welsh gentleman of good repute, coming from Bristol to Padstow, a little seaport in the county of Cornwall, near the place where Dickory dwelt, and hearing much of this dumb man's perfections, would needs have him sent for ; and finding, by his significant gestures and all outward appearances that he much exceeded the character that the country gave of him, took a mighty liking to him, insomuch that he told him, if he would go with him into Pembrokeshire, he would be kind to him, and take care of him as long as he lived, This kind and unexpected offer was so welcome to poor Dickory, that without any further consider- ation, he got a pen and ink and writ a note, and in a very handsome and submissive manner returned him thanks for his favour, assuring him he would do his best to continue and improve it ; and that he would be ready to wait upon him whenever he should be pleased to command. To shorten the account as much as possible, all things were concluded to their mutual satisfaction, and in about a fortnight's time they set forward for Wales, where Dickory, notwithstanding his dumb- ness, behaved himself with so much diligence and affability, that he not only gained the love of the family where he lived, but of everybody round him. In this station he continued till the death of his master, which happened about twenty years after- wards ; in all which time, as has been confirmed by 8 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, several of the family, he was never observed to be any ways disguised by drinking, or to be guilty of any of the follies and irregularities incident to ser- vants in gentleman's houses. On the contrary, when he had any spare time, his constant custom was to retire with some good book into a private place within call, and there employ himself in read- ing, and then writing down his observations upon what he read. After the death of his master, whose loss afflicted him to the last degree, one Mrs. Mary Mordant, a gentlewoman of great virtue and piety, and a very good fortune, took him into her service, and carried him with her, first to Bath, and then to Bristol, where, after a lingering distemper, which continued for about four years, she died likewise. Upon the loss of his mistress, Dickory grew again exceeding melancholy and disconsolate; at length, reflecting that death is but a common debt which all mortals owe to nature, and must be paid sooner or later, he became a little better satisfied, and so determines to get together what he had saved in his service, and then to return to his native coun- try, and there finish his life in privacy and retire- ment. Having been, as has been mentioned, about twenty-four years a servant, and having, in the in- terim, received two legacies, viz., one of thirty pounds, left him by his master, and another of fif- teen pounds by his mistress, and being always very frugal, he had got by him in the whole upwards of sixty pounds. This, thinks he, with prudent manage- ment, will be enough to support me as long as I live, and so I'll e'en lay aside all thoughts of future business, and make the best of my way to Cornwall, and there find out some safe and solitary retreat, where I may have liberty to meditate and make my OE GREAT BRITAIN S WONDER. 9 melancholy observations upon the several occur- rences of human life. This resolution prevailed so far, that no time was let slip to get everything in readiness to go with the first ship. As to his money, he always kept that locked up by him, unless he sometimes lent it to a friend without interest, for he had a mortal hatred to all sorts of usury or extortion. His books, of which he had a considerable quantity, and some of them very good ones, together v/ith his other equipage, he got packed up, that nothing might be wanting against the first opportunity. In a few days he heard of a vessel bound to Pad- stow, the very port he wished to go to, being within four or five miles of the place where he was born. When he came thither, which was in less than a week, his first business was to inquire after the state of his family. It was some time before he could get any information of them, until an old man that knew his father and mother, and remembered they had a son was born dumb, recollected him, and after a great deal of difficulty, made him understand that all his family except his youngest sister were dead, and that she was a widow, and lived at a little town called St. Helen's, about ten miles further in the country. This doleful news, we must imagine, must be ex- tremely shocking, and add a new sting to his former affliction ; and here it was that he began to exercise the philosopher, and to demonstrate himself both a wise and a good man. All these things, thinks he, are the will of Providence, and must not be dis- puted ; and so he bore up under them with an en- tire resignation, resolving that, as soon as he could find a place where he might deposit his trunk and boxes with safety, he would go to St. Helen's in quest of his sister. 10 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, How his sister and he met, and how transported they were to see each other after so long an interval, I think is not very material. It is enough for the present purpose that Dickory soon recollected his sister, and she him ; and after a great many en- dearing tokens of love and tenderness, he wrote to her, telling her that he believed Providence had bestowed on him as much as would support him as long as he lived, and that if she thought proper he would come and spend the remainder of his days with her. The good woman no sooner read his proposal than she accepted it, adding, withal, that she could wish her entertainment was better ; but if he would accept of it as it was, she would do her best to make everything easy, and that he should be wel- come upon his own terms, to stay with her as long as he pleased. This affair being so happily settled to his full satisfaction, he returns to Padstow to fetch the things he had left behind him, and the next day came back to St. Helen's, where, according to his own proposal, he continued to the day of his death, which happened upon the 29th of May, 1718, about the same hour in which he was born. Having thus given a short detail of the several periods of his life, extracted chiefly from the papers which he left behind him, I come in the next place to make a few observations how he managed him- self and spent his time toward the latter part of it. His constant practice, both winter and summer, was to rise and set with the sun ; and if the weather would permit, he never failed to walk in some un- frequented place, for three hours, both morning and evening, and there it is supposed he composed the following meditations. The chief part of his suste- nance was milk, with a little bread boiled in it, of or great Britain's wonder. 1 1 which in the morning, after his walk, he would eat the quantity of a pint, and sometimes more. Dinners he never eat any ; and at night he would only have a pretty large piece of bread, and drink a draught of good spring water ; and after this me- thod he lived during the whole time he was at St. Helen's. It is observed of him that he never slept out of a bed, nor never lay awake in one ; which I take to be an argument, not only of a strong and healthful constitution, but of a mind composed and calm, and entirely free from the ordinary disturb- ances of human life. He never gave the least signs of complaint or dissatisfaction at anything, unless it was when he heard the tinners swear, or saw them drunk ; and then, too, he would get out of the way as soon as he had let them see, by some significant signs, how scandalous and ridiculous they made themselves ; and against the next time he met them, would be sure to have a paper ready written, wherein he would represent the folly of drunken- ness, and the dangerous consequences that gene- rally attended it. Idleness was his utter aversion, and if at any time he had finished the business of the day, and was grown weary of reading and writing, in which he daily spent six hours at least, he would cer- tainly find something either within doors or with- out, to employ himself. Much might be said both with regard to the wise and regular management, and the prudent methods he took to spend his time well towards the declen- sion of his life ; but, as his history may perhaps be shortly published at large by a better hand, I shall only observe in the general, that he was a person of great wisdom and sagacity. He understood nature beyond the ordinary capacity, and, if he had had a competency of learning suitable to his genius, 12 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, neither this nor the former ages would have produced a better philosopher or a greater man. I come next to speak of the manner of his death and the consequences thereof, which are, indeed, very surprising, and, perhaps, not altogether un- worthy a general observation. I shall relate them as briefly as I can, and leave every one to believe or disbelieve as he thinks proper. Upon the 26th of May, 1718, according to his usual method, about four in the afternoon, he went out to take his evening walk ; but before he could reach the place he intended, he was seized with an apoplectic fit, which only gave him liberty to sit down under a tree, where, in an instant, he was de- prived of all maimer of sense and motion, and so he continued, as appears by his own confession after- wards, for more than fourteen hours. His sister, who knew how exact he was in all his methods, finding him stay a considerable time be- yond the usual hour, concludes that some misfortune must needs have happened to him, or he would cer- tainly have been at home before. In short, she went immediately to all the places he was wont to frequent, but nothing could be heard or seen of him till the next morning, when a young man, as he was going to work, discovered him, and went home and told his sister that her brother lay in such a place, under a tree, and, as he believed, had been robbed and murdered. The poor woman, who had all night been under the most dreadful apprehensions, was now frightened and confounded to the last degree. However, re- collecting herself, and finding there was no remedy, she got two or three of her neighbours to bear her company, and so hastened with the young man to the tree, where she found her brother lying in the same posture that he had described. or great Britain's wonder. 13 The dismal object at first view startled and sur- prised everybody present, and filled them full of different notions and conjectures. But some of the company going nearer to him, and finding that he had lost nothing, and that there were no marks of any violence to be discovered about him, they con- clude that it must be an apoplectic or some other sudden fit that had surprised him in his walk, upon which his sister and the rest began to feel his hands and face, and observing that he was still warm, and that there were some symptoms of life yet remaining, they conclude that the best way was to carry him home to bed, which was accordingly done with the utmost expedition. When they had got him into the bed nothing was omitted that they could think of to bring him to himself, but still he continued utterly insensible for about six hours. At the sixth hour's end he began to move a little, and in a very short time was so far recovered, to the great astonishment of everybody about him, that he was able to look up, and to make a sign to his sister to bring him a cup a water. After he had drunk the water he soon perceived that all his faculties were returned to their former stations, and though his strength was very much abated by the length and rigour of the fit, yet his intellects were as strong and vigorous as ever. His sister observing him to look earnestly upon the company, as if he had something extraordinary to communicate to them, fetched him a pen and ink and a sheet of paper, which, after a short pause, he took, and wrote as follows : — "Dear sister, "I have now no need of pen, ink, and paper, to tell you my meaning. I find the strings that bound up my tongue, and hindered me from speaking, are un- 14 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, loosed, and I have words to express myself as freely and distinctly as any other person. From whence this strange and unexpected event should proceed, I must not pretend to say, any further than this, that it is doubtless the hand of Providence that has done it, and in that I ought to acquiesce. Pray let me be alone for two or three hours, that I may be at li- berty to compose myself, and put my thoughts in the best order I can before I leave them behind me." The poor woman, though extremely startled at what her brother had written, yet took care to con- ceal it from the neighbours, who, she knew, as well as she, must be mightily surprised at a thing so ut- terly unexpected. Says she, my brother desires to be alone ; I believe he may have something in his mind that disturbs him. Upon which the neigh- bours took their leave and returned home, and his sister shut the door, and left him alone to his private contemplations. After the company were withdrawn he fell into a sound sleep, which lasted from two till six, and his sister, being apprehensive of the return of his fit, came to the bedside, and, asking softly if he wanted anything, he turned about to her and spoke to this effect : Dear sister, you see me not only recovered out of a terrible fit, but likewise that I have the li- berty of speech, a blessing that I have been deprived of almost sixty years, and I am satisfied you are sincerely joyful to find me in the state I now am in; but, alas! it is but a mistaken kindness. These are things but of short duration, and if they were to continue for a hundred years longer, I can't see how I should be anyways the better. I know the world too well to be fond of it, and am fully satisfied that the difference between a long and a short life is insignificant, especially when I con- or great Britain's wonder lo sider the accidents and company I am to encounter. Do but look seriously and impartially upon the as- tonishing notion of time and eternity, what an im- mense deal has run out already, and how infinite it is still in the future ; do but seriously and delibe- rately consider this, and you will find, upon the whole, that three days and three ages of life come much to the same measure and reckoning. As soon as he had ended his discourse upon the vanity and uncertainty of human life, he looked steadfastly upon her. Sister, says he, I conjure you not to be disturbed at what I am going to tell you, which you will undoubtedly find to be true in every particular. I perceive my glass is run, and I have now more to do in this world but to take my leave of it ; for to-morrow about this time my speech will be again taken from me, and, in a short time, my fit will return ; and the next day, which I under- stand is the day on which I came into this trouble- some world, I shall exchange it for another, where, for the future, I shall for ever be free from all manner of sin and sufferings. The good woman would have made him a reply, but he prevented her by telling her he had no time to hearken to unnecessary complaints or animad- versions. I have a great many things in my mind, says he, that require a speedy and serious considera- tion. The time I have to stay is but short, and I have a great deal of important business to do in it. Time and death are both in my view, and seem both to call aloud to me to make no delay. I beg of you, therefore, not to disquiet yourself or me. What must be, must be. The decrees of Providence are eternal and unalterable ; why, then, should we tor- ment ourselves about that which we cannot remedy? I must confess, my dear sister, I owe you many obligations for your exemplary fondness to me, and 16 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, do solemnly assure you I shall retain the sense of them to the last moment. All that I have to request of you is, that I may be alone for this night. I have it in my thoughts to leave some short observations behind me, and likewise to discover some things of great weight which have been revealed to me, which may perhaps be of some use hereafter to you and your friends. What credit they may meet with I cannot say, but depend the consequence, according to their respective periods, will account for them, and vindicate them against the supposition of falsity and mere suggestion. Upon this, his sister left him till about four in the morning, when coming to his bedside to know if he wanted anything, and how he had rested, he made her this answer ; I have been taking a cursory view of my life, and though I find myself exceedingly de- ficient in several particulars, yet I bless God I cannot find I have any just grounds to suspect my pardon. In short, says he, I have spent this night with more inward pleasure and true satisfaction than ever I spent a night through the whole course of my life. After he had concluded what he had to say upon the satisfaction that attended an innocent and well- spent life, and observed what a mighty consolation it was to persons, not only under the apprehension, but even in the very agonies of death itself, he de- sired her to bring him his usual cup of water, and then to help him on with his clothes, that he might sit up, and so be in a better posture to take his leave of her and her friends. When she had taken him up, and placed him at a table where he usually sat, he desired her to bring him his box of papers, and after he had collected those he intended should be preserved, he ordered her to bring a candle, that he might see the rest burnt. The good woman seemed at first to oppose or great Britain's wonder. 17 the burning of his papers, till he told her they were only useless trifles, some unfinished observations which he had made in his youthful days, and were not fit to be seen by her or anybody that should come after him. After he had seen his papers burnt, and placed the rest in their proper order, and had likewise settled all his other affairs, which was only fit to be done between himself and his sister, he desired her to call two or three of the most reputable neigh- bours, not only to be witnesses of his will, but like- wise to hear what he had further to communicate before the return of his fit, which he expected very speedily. His sister, who had beforehand acquainted two or three of her confidants with all that had happened, was very much rejoiced to hear her brother make so unexpected a concession ; and accordingly, with- out any delay or hesitation, went directly into the neighbourhood and brought home her two select friends, upon whose secrecy and sincerity she knew she might depend upon all accounts. In her absence he felt several symptoms of the ap- proach of his fit, which made him a little uneasy, lest it should entirely seize him before he had per- fected his will, but that apprehension was quickly removed by her speedy return. After she had in- troduced her friends into his chamber, he proceeded to express himself in the following manner ; Dear sister, you now see your brother upon the brink of eternity; and as the words of dying persons are com- monly the most regarded, and make deepest impres- sions, I cannot suspect but you will suffer the few I am about to say to have always some place in your thoughts, that they may be ready for you to make use of upon any occasion. Do not be fond of anything on this side of eternity, 18 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, or suffer your interest to incline you to break your word, quit your modesty, or to do anything that will not bear the light, and look the world in the face. For be assured of this ; the person that values the virtue of his mind and the dignity of his reason, is always easy and well fortified both against death and misfortune, and is perfectly indifferent about the length or shortness of his life. Such a one is soli- citous about nothing but his own conduct, and for fear he should be deficient in the duties of religion, and the respective functions of reason and prudence. Always go the nearest way to work. Now, the nearest way through all the business of human life, are the paths of religion and honesty, and keeping those as directly as you can, you avoid all the dangerous precipices that often lie in the road, and sometimes block up the passage entirely. Remember that life was but lent at first, and that the remainder is more than you have reason to ex- pect, and consequently ought to be managed with more than ordinary diligence. A wise man spends every day as if it were his last ; his hourglass is always in his hand, and he is never guilty of sluggishness or insincerity. He was about to proceed when a sudden symptom of the return of his fit put him in mind that it was time to get his will witnessed, which was no sooner done but he took it up and gave it to his sister, telling her that though all he had was hers of right, yet he thought it proper, to prevent even a possibility of a dispute, to write down his mind in the nature of a will, wherein I have given you, says he, the little that I have left, except my books and papers, which, as soon as I am dead, I desire may be deli- vered to Mr. Anthony Barlow, a near relation of my worthy master, Mr. Owen Parry. This Mr. Anthonv Barlow was an old contem- or great Britain's wonder. 19 plative Welsh gentleman, who, being under some difficulties in his own country, was forced to come into Cornwall and take sanctuary among the tin- ners. Dickory, though he kept himself as retired as possible, happened to meet him one day upon his walks, and presently remembered that he was the very person that used frequently to come to visit his master while he lived in Pembrokeshire, and so went to him, and by signs made him understand who he was. The old gentleman, though at first surprised at this unexpected interview, soon recollected that he had formerly seen at Mr. Parry's a dumb man, whom they used to call the dumb philosopher, so concludes immediately that consequently this must be he. In short, they soon made themselves known to each other ; and from that time contracted a strict friendship and a correspondence by letters, which for the future they mutually managed with the greatest exactness and familiarity. But to leave this as a matter not much material, and to return to our narrative. By this time Dickory's speech began to falter, which his sister observing, put him in mind that he would do well to make some declaration of his faith and principles of religion, because some reflections had been made upon him upon the account of his neglect, or rather his refusal, to appear at any place of public wor- ship. " Dear sister," says he, " you observe very well, and I wish the continuance of my speech for a few moments that I might make an ample declaration upon that account. But I find that cannot be ; my speech is leaving me so fast that I can only tell you that I have always lived, and now die, an unworthy member of the ancient catholic and apostolic church ; and as to my faith and principles, I refer d. c. u 20 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, you to my papers, which, I hope, will in some measure vindicate me against the reflections you mention." He had hardly finished his discourse to his sister and her two friends, and given some short directions relating to his burial, but his speech left him ; and what makes the thing the more remarkable, it went away, in all appearance, without giving him any sort of pain or uneasiness. When he perceived that his speech was entirely vanished, and that he was again in his original state of dumbness, he took his pen as formerly and wrote to his sister, signifying that whereas the sudden loss of his speech had deprived him of the oppor- tunity to speak to her and her friends what he in- tended, he would leave it for them in writing, and so desired he might not be disturbed till the return of his fit, which he expected in six hours at farthest. According to his desire they all left him, and then, with the greatest resignation imaginable, he wrote down the meditations following : PART II. An Abstract of his Faith, and the Principles of his Religion, fyc, ichich begins thus : Dear Sister ; I thank you for putting me in mind to make a declaration of my faith, and the principles of my religion. I find, as you very well observe, I have been under some reflections upon that account, and therefore I think it highly requisite that I set that matter right in the first place. To begin, or great Britain's wonder. 21 therefore, with my faith, in which I intend to be as short and as comprehensive as I can : 1. I most firmly believe that it was the eternal will of God, and the result of his infinite wisdom, to create a world, and for the glory of his majesty to make several sorts of creatures in order and degree one after another ; that is to say, angels, or pure immortal spirits ; men, consisting of immortal spirits and matter, having rational and sensitive souls ; brutes, having mortal and sensitive souls ; and mere vegetatives, such as trees, plants, &c. ; and these creatures so made do, as it were, clasp the higher and lower world together. 2. I believe the holy Scriptures, and everything therein contained, to be the pure and essential word of God ; and that, according to these sacred writings, man, the lord and prince of the creation, by his disobedience in Paradise, forfeited his innocence and the dignity of his nature, and subjected himself and all his posterity to sin and misery. 3. I believe and am fully and entirely satisfied, that God the Father, out of his infinite goodness and compassion to mankind, was pleased to send his only Son, the second person in the holy and un- divided Trinity, to mediate for him, and to procure his redemption and eternal salvation. 4. I believe that God the Son, out of his infinite love, and for the glory of the Deity, was pleased voluntarily and freely to descend from heaven, and to take our nature upon him, and to lead an exem- plary life of purity, holiness, and perfect obedience, and at last to suffer an ignominious death upon the cross, for the sins of the whole world, and to rise again the third day for our justification. 5. I believe that the Holy Ghost out of his in- finite goodness was pleased to undertake the office of sanctifying us with his divine grace, and thereby u2 22 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, assisting us with faith to believe, will to desire, and power to do all those things that are required of us in this world, in order to entitle us to the blessings of just men made perfect in the world to come. 6. I believe that these three persons are of equal power, majesty, and duration, and that the God- head of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost is all one, and that they are equally uncreate, incomprehensible, eternal, and almighty ; and that none is greater or less than the other, but that every one hath one and the same divine nature and perfections. These, sister, are the doctrines which have been received and practised by the best men of every age, from the beginning of the Christian religion to this day, and it is upon this I ground my faith and hopes of salvation, not doubting but, if my life and practice have been answerable to them, that I shall be quickly translated out of this kingdom of dark- ness, out of this world of sorrow, vexation, and con- fusion, into that blessed kingdom, where I shall cease to grieve and to suffer, and shall be happy to all eternity. As to my principles in religion, to be as brief as I can, I declare myself to be a member of Christ's church, which I take to be a universal society of all Christian people, distributed under lawful governors and pastors into particular churches, holding com- munion with each other in all the essentials of the Christian faith, worship, and discipline ; and among these I look upon the Church of England to be the chief and best constituted. The Church of England is doubtless the great bulwark of the* ancient Catholic or Apostolic faith all over the world ; a church that has all the spiritual advantages that the nature of a church is capable of. From the doctrine and principles of or great Britain's wonder. 23 the Church of England, we are taught loyalty to our prince, fidelity to our country, and justice to all mankind ; and therefore, as I look upon this to be one of the most excellent branches of the Church Universal, and stands, as it were, between super- stition and hypocrisy, I therefore declare, for the satisfaction of you and your friends, as I have always lived so I now die, a true and sincere, though a a most unworthy member of it. And as to my dis- continuance of my attendance at the public worship, I refer you to my papers, which I have left with my worthy friend, Mr. Barlow. And thus, my dear sister, I have given you a short account of my faith, and the principles of my religion. I come, in the next place, to lay before you a few meditations and observations I have at several times collected to- gether, more particularly those since my retirement to St. Helen's. Meditations and Observations relating to the Con- duct of Human Life in general. 1. Remember how often you have neglected the great duties of religion and virtue, and slighted the opportunities that Providence has put into your hands ; and, withal, that you have a set period as- signed you for the management of the affairs of human life ; and then reflect seriously that, unless you resolve immediately to improve the little re- mains, the whole must necessarily slip away insen- sibly, and then you are lost beyond recovery. 2. Let an unaffected gravity, freedom, justice, and sincerity, shine through all your actions, and let no fancies and chimeras give the least check to those excellent qualities. This is an easy task, if 24 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, you will but suppose everything you do to be your last, and if you can keep your passions and appetites from crossing your reason. Stand clear of rashness, and have nothing of insincerity or self-love to in- fect you. 3. Manage all your thoughts and actions with such prudence and circumspection as if you were sensible you were just going to step into the grave. A little thinking will show a man the vanity and uncertainty of all sublunary things, and enable him to examine maturely the manner of dying ; which, if duly abstracted from the terror of the idea, will appear nothing more than an unavoidable appendix of life itself, and a pure natural action. 4. Consider that ill-usage from some sort of people is in a manner necessary, and therefore do not be disquieted about it, but rather conclude that you and your enemy are both marching off the stage together, and that in a little time your very memories will be extinguished. 5. Among your principal observations upon human life, let it be always one to take notice what a great deal both of time and ease that man gains who is not troubled with the spirit of curiosity, who lets his neighbour's affairs alone, and confines his inspections to himself, and only takes care of honesty and a good conscience. 6. If you would live at your ease, and as much as possible be free from the incumbrances of life, manage but a few things at once, and let those, too, be such as are absolutely necessary. By this rule you will draw the bulk of your business into a narrow compass, and have the double pleasure of making your actions good, and few into the bargain. 7. He that torments himself because things do not happen just as he would have them, is but a sort of ulcer in the world ; and he that is selfish, narrow- or great Britain's wonder. 25 souled, and sets up for a separate interest, is a kind of voluntary outlaw, and disincorporates himself from mankind. 8. Never think anything below you which reason and your own circumstances require, and never suffer yourself to be deterred by the ill-grounded notions of censure and reproach ; but when honesty and conscience prompt you to say or do anything, do it boldly ; never balk your resolution or start at the consequence. 9. If a man does me an injury, what is that to me ? It is his own action, and let him account for it. As for me, I am in my proper station, and only doing the business that Providence has allotted ; and withal, I ought to consider that the best way to revenge, is not to imitate the injury. 10. When yon happen to be ruffled and put out of humour by any cross accident, retire immediately into your reason, and do not suffer your passion to overrule you a moment ; for the sooner you recover yourself now, the better you will be able to guard yourself for the future. 11. Do not be like those ill-natured people that, though they do not love to give a good word to their contemporaries, yet are mighty fond of their own commendations. This argues a perverse and unjust temper, and often exposes the authors to scorn and contempt. 12. If any one convinces you of an error, change your opinion and thank him for it : truth and in- formation are your business, and can never hurt anybody. On the contrary, he that is proud and stubborn, and wilfully continues in a mistake, it is he that receives the mischief. 13. Because you see a thing difficult, do not in- stantly conclude it to be impossible to master it. Diligence and industry are seldom defeated. Look, 26 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, therefore, narrowly into the thing itself, and what you observe proper and practicable in another, con- clude likewise within your own power. 14. The principle business of human life is run through within the short compass of twenty-four hours ; and when you have taken a deliberate view of the present age, you have seen as much as if you had begun with the world, the rest being nothing else but an endless round of the same thing over and over again. 15. Bring your will to your fate, and suit your mind to your circumstances. Love your friends and forgive your enemies, and do justice to all mankind, and you will be secure to make your passage easy, and enjoy most of the comforts that human life is capable to afford you. 16. When you have a mind to entertain yourself in your retirements, let it be with the good qualifica- tions of your friends and acquaintance. Think with pleasure and satisfaction upon the honour and bravery of one, the modesty of another, the gene- rosity of a third, and so on ; there being nothing more pleasant and diverting than the lively images and the advantages of those we love and converse with. 17. As nothing can deprive you of the privileges of your nature, or compel you to act counter to your reason, so nothing can happen to you but what comes from Providence, and consists with the in- terest of the universe. 18. Let people's tongues and actions be what they will, your business is to have honour and honesty in your view. Let them rail, revile, cen- sure, and condemn, or make you the subject of their scorn and ridicule, what does it all signify? You have one certain remedy against all their malice and folly, and that is, to live so that nobody shall believe them. or great Britain's wonder. 27 19. Alas, poor mortals ! did we rightly consider our own state and condition, we should find it would not be long before we have forgot all the world, and to be even, that all the world will have forgot us likewise. 20. He that would recommend himself to the public, let him do it by the candour and modesty of his behaviour, and by a generous indifference to ex- ternal advantages. Let him love mankind, and re- sign to Providence, and then his works will follow him, and his good actions will praise him in the gate. 21. When you hear a discourse, let your under- standing, as far as possible, keep pace with it, and lead you forward to those things which fall most within the compass of your own observations. 22. When vice and treachery shall be rewarded, and virtue and ability slighted and discountenanced; when ministers of state shall rather fear man than God, and to screen themselves run into parties and factions ; when noise and clamour, and scandalous reports shall carry everything before them, it is na- tural to conclude that a nation in such a state of in- fatuation stands upon the brink of destruction, and without the intervention of some unforeseen ac- cident, must be inevitably ruined. 23. When a prince is guarded by wise and honest men, and when all public officers are sure to be re- warded if they do well, and punished if they do evil, the consequence is plain; justice and honesty will flourish, and men will be always contriving, not for themselves, but for the honour and interest of their king and country. 24. Wicked men may sometimes go unpunished in this world, but wicked nations never do ; because this world is the only place of punishment for wicked nations, though not for private and particular persons. 28 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, 25. An administration that is merely founded upon human policy must be always subject to human chance; but that which is founded on the divine wisdom can no more miscarry than the government of heaven. To govern by parties and factions is the advice of an atheist, and sets up a government by the spirit of Satan. In such a government the prince can never be secure under the greatest pro- mises, since, as men's interest changes, so will their duty and affections likewise. 26. It is a very ancient observation, and a very true one, that people generally despise where they natter, and cringe to those they design to betray ; so that truth and ceremony are, and always will be, two distinct things. 27. When you find your friend in an error, un- deceive him with secrecy and civility, and let him see his oversight first by hints and glances ; and if you cannot convince him, leave him with respect, and lay the fault upon your own management. 28. When you are under the greatest vexations, then consider that human life lasts but for a moment; and do not forget but that you are like the rest of the world, and faulty yourself in many instances ; and withal, remember that anger and impatience often prove more mischievous than the provocation. 29. Gentleness and good humour are invincible, provided they are without hypocrisy and design; they disarm the most barbarous and savage tempers, and make even malice ashamed of itself. 30. In all the actions of life let it be your first and principal care to guard against anger on the one hand, and flattery on the other, for they are both unserviceable qualities, and do a great deal of mis- chief in the government of human life. 31. When a man turns knave or libertine, and gives way to fear, jealousy, and fits of the spleen ; or great Britain's wonder. 29 when his mind complains of his fortune, and he quits the station in which Providence has placed him, he acts perfectly counter to humanity, deserts his own nature, and, as it were, runs away from himself. 32. Be not heavy in business, disturbed in con- versation, nor impertinent in your thoughts. Let your judgment be right, your actions friendly, and your mind contented ; let them curse you, threaten you, or despise you ; let them go on ; they can never injure your reason or your virtue, and then all the rest that they can do to you signifies nothing. 33. The only pleasure of human life is doing the business of the creation ; and which way is that to be compassed very easily? Most certainly by the practice of general kindness, by rejecting the im- portunity of our senses, by distinguishing truth from falsehood, and by contemplating the works of the Almighty. 34. Be sure to mind that which lies before you, whether it be thought, word, or action ; and never postpone an opportunity, or make virtue wait for you till to-morrow. 35. Whatever tends neither to the improvement of your reason nor the benefit of society, think it below you ; and when you have done any consider- able service to mankind, do not lessen it by your folly in gaping after reputation and requital. 36. When you find yourself sleepy in a morning, rouse yourself, and consider that you are born to business, and that in doing good in your generation, you answer your character and act like a man ; whereas sleep and idleness do but degrade you, and sink you down to a brute. 37. A mind that has nothing of hope, or fear, or aversion, or desire, to weaken and disturb it, is the most impregnable security. Hither we may with safety retire and defy our enemies; and he that sees 30 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, not this advantage must be extremely ignorant, and he that forgets it unhappy. 31. Do not disturb yourself about the faults of other people, but let everybody's crimes be at their own door. Have always this great maxim in your remembrance, that to play the knave is to rebel against religion ; all sorts of injustice being no less than high treason against Heaven itself. 39. Do not contemn death, but meet it with a decent and religious fortitude, and look upon it as one of those things which Providence has ordered. If you want a cordial to make the apprehensions of dying go down a little the more easily, consider what sort of world and what sort of company you will part with. To conclude, do but look seriously into the world, and there you will see multitudes of people preparing for funerals, and mourning for their friends and acquaintances ; and look out again a little afterwards, and you will see others doing the very same thing for them. 40. In short, men are but poor transitory things. To-day they are busy and harassed with the affairs of human life; and to-morrow life itself is taken from them, and they are returned to their original dust and ashes. To face page 30. OR GREAT BRITIAN'S WONDER. 31 PART III. Containing prophetic observations relating to the affairs of Europe and of Great Britain, more par- ticularly from 1720 to 1729. 1. In the latter end of 1720, an eminent old lady shall bring forth five sons at a birth ; the youngest shall live and grow up to maturity, but the four eldest shall either die in the nursery, or be all carried off by one sudden and unexpected accident. 2. About this time a man with a double head shall arrive in Britain from the south. One of these heads shall deliver messages of great importance to the governing party, and the other to the party that is opposite to them. The first shall believe the monster, but the last shall discover the impostor, and so happily disengage themselves from a snare that was laid to destroy them and their posterity. After this the two heads shall unite, and the monster shall ap- pear in his proper shape. 3. In the year 1721, a philosopher from lower Germany shall come, first to Amsterdam in Holland, and afterwards to London. He will bring with him a world of curiosities, and among them a pretended secret for the transmutation of metals. Under the umbrage of this mighty secret he shall pass upon the world for some time ; but at length he shall be detected, and proved to be nothing but an empiric and a cheat, and so forced to sneak off, and leave the people he has deluded, either to bemoan their loss, or laugh at their own folly. N. B. This will be 32 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, the last of his sect that will ever venture in this part of the world upon the same errand. 4. In this year great endeavours will be used for procuring a general peace, which shall be so near a conclusion that public rejoicings shall be made at the courts of several great potentates upon that ac- count; but just in the critical juncture, a certain neighbouring prince shall come to a violent death, which shall occasion new war and commotion all over Europe; but these shall continue but for a short time, and at last terminate in the utter de- struction of the first aggressors. 5. Towards the close of this year of mysteries, a person that was born blind shall have his sight re- stored, and shall see ravens perch upon the heads of traitors, among which the head of a notorious pre- late shall stand upon the highest pole. 6. In the year 1722, there shall be a grand con- gress, and new overtures of peace offered by most of the principal parties concerned in the war, which shall have so good effect that a cessation of arms shall be agreed upon for six months, which shall be kept inviolable till a certain general, either through treachery or inadvertency, shall begin hostilities be- fore the expiration of the term ; upon which the injured prince shall draw his sword, and throw the scabbard into the sea, vowing never to return it till he shall obtain satisfaction for himself, and done justice to all that were oppressed. 7. At the close of this year, a famous bridge shall be broken down, and the water that runs under it shall be tinctured with the blood of two notorious malefactors, whose unexpected death shall make mighty alterations in the present state of affairs, and put a stop to the ruin of a nation, which must otherwise have been unavoidable. 8. 1723 begins with plots, conspiracies, and in- or great Britain's wonder. 33 testine commotions in several countries ; nor shall Great Britain itself be free from the calamity. These shall continue till a certain young prince shall take the reins of government into his own hands ; and after that, a marriage shall be proposed, and an alliance concluded between two great potentates, who shall join their forces, and endeavour, in good earnest, to set all matters upon a right foundation. 9. This year several cardinals and prelates shall be publicly censured for heretical principles, and shall narrowly escape from being torn to pieces by the common people, who still look upon them as the grand disturbers of the public tranquillity, perfect in- cendiaries, and the chief promoters of their former, present, and future calamities. 10. In 1724-5 there will be many treaties and ne- gotiations, and Great Britain, particularly, will be crowded with foreign ministers and ambassadors from remote princes and states. Trade and com- merce will begin to flourish and revive, and every- thing will have a comfortable prospect, until some desperadoes, assisted by a monster with many heads, shall start new difficulties, and put the world again into a flame ; but these shall be but of short dura- tion. 11. Before the expiration of 1725, an eagle from the north shall fly directly to the south, and perch upon the palace of a prince, and first unravel the bloody projects and designs of a wicked set of people, and then publicly discover the murder of a great king, and the intended assassination of another greater than he. 12. In 1726, three princes will be born that will grow up to be men, and inherit the crowns of three of the greatest monarchies in Europe. 13. About this time the pope will die, and after 34 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, OR a great many intrigues and struggles, a Spanish cardinal shall be elected, who shall decline the dig- nity, and declare his marriage with a great lady, heiress of one of the chief principalities in Italy, which may occasion new troubles in Europe, if not timely prevented. 14. In 1727, new troubles shall break out in the north, occasioned by the sudden death of a certain prince, and the avarice and ambition of another. Poor Poland seems to be pointed at ; but the princes of the south shall enter into a confederacy to pre- serve her, and shall at length restore her peace, and prevent the perpetual ruin of her constitution. 15. Great endeavours will be used about this time for a comprehension in religion, supported by crafty and designing men, and a party of mistaken zealots, which they shall artfully draw in to join with them ; but as the project is ill-concerted, and will be worse managed, it will come to nothing; and soon afterwards an effectual mode will be taken to prevent the like attempt for the future. 16. 1728 will be a year of inquiry and retro- spection. Many exorbitant grants will be re- assumed, and several persons who thought them- selves secure will be called before the senate, and compelled to disgorge what they have unjustly pil- laged either from the crown or the public. 17. About this time a new scaffold will be erected upon the confines of a certain great city, where an old count of a new extraction, that has been of all parties and true to none, will be doomed by his peers to make his first appearance. After this an old lady who has often been exposed to danger and disgrace, and sometimes brought to the very brink of destruction, will be brought to bed of three daughters at once, which they shall call Plenty, Peace, and great Britain's wonder. 35 Union ; and these three shall live and grow up to- gether, be the glory of their mother, and the com- fort of posterity for many generations. This is the substance of what he either writ or extracted from his papers in the interval between the loss of his speech and the return of his fit, which happened exactly at the time he had com- puted. Upon the approach of his fit, he made signs to be put to bed, which was no sooner done but he was seized with extreme agonies, which he bore up under with the greatest steadfastness, and after a severe conflict, that lasted near eight hours, he ex- pired. Thus lived and thus died this extraordinary person ; a person, though of mean extraction and obscure life, yet when his character comes to be fully and truly known, it will be read with pleasure, profit, and admiration. His perfections at large would be the work of a volume, and inconsistent with the intention of these papers. I will therefore only add, for a conclusion, that he was a man of uncommon thought and judg- ment, and always kept his appetites and inclinations within their just limits. His reason was strong and manly, his under- standing sound and active, and his temper so easy, equal, and complaisant, that he never fell out, either with men or accidents. He bore all things with the highest affability, and computed justly upon their value and consequence, and then ap- plied them to their proper uses. D. C. 36 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, OR A LETTER FROM OXFORD. Sir, Being informed that you speedily intend to publish some memoirs relating to our dumb countryman, Dickory Cronke, I send you herewith a few lines, in the nature of an elegy, which I leave you to dispose of as you think fit. I knew and ad- mired the man ; and if I were capable, his cha- racter should be the first thing I would attempt. Yours, &c. great Britain's wonder. 37 AN ELEGY, IN MEMORY OF DICKORY CRONKE, THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER. Vitiis nemo sine nascitur ; optimus ille est, Qui minimus urgetur. — Horace. If virtuous actions emulation raise, Then this good man deserves immortal praise. When nature such extensive wisdom lent, She sure designed him for our precedent. Such great endowments in a man unknown, Declare the blessings were not all his own ; But rather granted for a time to show What the wise hand of Providence can do. In him we may a bright example see Of nature, justice, and morality ; A mind not subject to the frowns of fate, But calm and easy in a servile state. He always kept a guard upon his will, And feared no harm because he knew no ill. A decent posture and an humble mien, In every action of his life were seen. Through all the different stages that he went, He still appeared both wise and diligent : Firm to his word, and punctual to his trust, Sagacious, frugal, affable, and just. No gainful views his bounded hopes could sway, No wanton thought led his chaste soul astray. x2 38 THE DUMB PHILOSOPHER, OR In short, his thoughts and actions both declare, Nature designed him her philosopher ; That all mankind, by his example taught, Might learn to live, and manage every thought. Oh ! could my muse the wondrous subject grace, And, from his youth, his virtuous actions trace ; Could I in just and equal numbers tell How well he lived, and how devoutly fell, I boldly might your strict attention claim, And bid you learn, and copy out the man. J. P. Exeter College, August 25th, 1719. great Britain's wonder. 39 EPITAPH. The occasion of this epitaph was briefly thus : — A gentleman, who had heard much in commendation of this dumb man, going accidentally to the church- yard where he was buried, and finding his grave without a tombstone, or any manner of memoran- dum of his death, he pulled out his pencil, and writ as follows : — pauper ubique jacet. Near to this lonely unfrequented place, Mixed with the common dust, neglected lies The man that every muse should strive to grace, And all the world should for his virtue prize. Stop, gentle passenger, and drop a tear, Truth, justice, wisdom, all lie buried here. What, though he wants a monumental stone, The common pomp of every fool or knave, Those virtues which through all his actions shone Proclaim his worth, and praise him in the grave. His merits will a bright example give, Which shall both time and envy too outlive. Oh, had I power but equal to my mind, A decent tomb should soon this place adorn, With this inscription : Lo, here lies confined A wondrous man, although obscurely born ; A man, though dumb, yet he was nature's care, WTio marked him out her own philosopher. EVERYBODY'S BUSINESS IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS; OR, PRIVATE ABUSES, PUBLIC GRIEVANCES: EXEMPLIFIED In the Pride, Insolence, and exorbitant Wages of our Women Servants. Footmen. &c. A Proposal for Amendment of the same ; as also for clearing the Streets of those Vermin called Shoe-Cleaners, and substituting in their stead many Thousands of industrious Poor, now ready- to starve. With divers other Hints of great Use to the Public. Humbly submitted the Consideration Qf our Legis- lature, and the careful Perusal of all Masters and Mistresses of Families. By Andrew Moreton, Esq. The Fifth Edition, with the Addition of a Preface. LONDON: Printed for W. Meadows, in Cornhill; and sold by T. Warner, at the Black Boy in Pater-Noster Row ; A. Dodd, without Temple Bar ; and E. Nutt, at the Royal Exchange. 1725. [Price Six Pence. ~\ THE PREFACE. Since this little book appeared in print, it has had no less than three answers, and fresh attacks are daily expected from the powers of Grub-street ; but should threescore antagonists more arise, un- less they say more to the purpose than the fore- mentioned, they shall not tempt me to reply. Nor shall I engage in a paper war, but leave my book to answer for itself, having advanced nothing therein but evident truths, and incontestible mat- ters of fact. The general objection is against my style ; I do not set up for an author, but write only to be un- derstood, no matter how plain. As my intentions are good, so have they had the good fortune to meet with approbation from the sober and substantial part of mankind ; as for the vicious and vagabond, their ill-will is my ambition. It is with uncommon satisfaction I see the magis- tracy begin to put the laws against vagabonds in force with the utmost vigour, a great many of those vermin, the japanners, having lately been taken up and sent to the several workhouses in and about this city ; and indeed high time, for they grow every day more and more pernicious. IV THE PREFACE. My project for putting watchmen under commis- sioners, will, I hope, be put in practice ; for it is scarce safe to go by water unless you know your man. As for the maid -servants, if I undervalue myself to take notice of them, as they are pleased to say, it is because they overvalue themselves so much they ought to be taken notice of. This makes the guilty take my subject by the wrong end, but any impartial reader may find, I write not against servants, but bad servants ; not against wages, but exorbitant wages, and am en- tirely of the poet's opinion, The good should meet with favour and applause, The wicked be restrain'd by wholesome laws. The reason why I did not publish this book till the end of the last sessions of parliament, was be- cause I did not care to interfere with more mo- mentous affairs ; but leave it to the consideration of that august body during this recess, against the next sessions, when I shall exhibit another com- plaint against a growing abuse, for which I doubt not but to receive their approbation and the thanks of all honest men. EVERYBODY'S BUSINESS NOBODY'S BUSINESS. This is a proverb so common in everybody's mouth, that I wonder nobody has yet thought it worth while to draw proper inferences from it, and expose those little abuses, which, though they seem tri- fling, and as it were scarce worth consideration, yet, by insensible degrees, they may become of in- jurious consequence to the public ; like some dis- eases, whose first symptoms are only trifling dis- orders, but by continuance and progression, their last periods terminate in the destruction of the whole human fabric. In contradiction therefore to this general rule, and out of sincere love and well meaning to the public, give me leave to enumerate the abuses in- sensibly crept in among us, and the inconveniences daily arising from the insolence and intrigues of •our servant-wenches, who, by their caballing toge- ther, have made their party so considerable, that everybody cries out against them ; and yet, to ve- rify the proverb, nobody has thought of, or at least proposed a remedy, although such an undertaking, mean as it seems to be, I hope will one day be thought worthy the consideration of our king, lords, and commons. D EVERYBODY S BUSINESS Women servants are now so scarce, that from thirty and forty shillings a year, their wages are in- creased of late to six, seven, nay, eight pounds per annum, and upwards ; insomuch that an ordinary tradesman cannot well keep one ; but his wife, who might be useful in his shop or business, must do the drudgery of household affairs ; and all this be- cause our servant-wenches are so puffed up with pride nowadays, that they never think they go fine enough : it is a hard matter to know the mistress from the maid by their dress ; nay, very often the maid shall be much the finer of the two. Our woollen manufacture suffers much by this, for no- thing but silks and satins will go down with our kitchen-wenches; to support which intolerable pride, they have insensibly raised their wages to such a height as was never known in any age or nation but this. Let us trace this from the beginning, and suppose a person has a servant-maid sent him out of the coun- try, at fifty shillings, or three pounds a year. The girl has scarce been a week, nay, a day in her service, but a committee of servant-wenches are appointed to examine her, who advise her to raise her wages, or give warning ; to encourage her to which, the herb-woman, or chandler-woman, or some other old intelligencer, provides her a place of four or five pounds a year ; this sets madam cock-a-hoop, and she thinks of nothing now but vails and high wages, and so gives warning from place to place, till she has got her wages up to the tip-top. Her neat's leathern shoes are now transformed into laced ones with high heels ; her yarn stockings are turned into fine woollen ones, with silk clocks ; and her high wooden pattens are kicked away for lea- thern clogs ; she must have a hoop too, as well as her mistress ; and her poor scanty linsey-woolsey IS NOBODY S BUSINESS. 7 petticoat is changed into a good silk one, for four or five yards wide at the least. Not to carry the description further, in short, plain country Joan is now turned into a fine London madam, can drink tea, take snuff, and carry herself as high as the best. If she be tolerably handsome, and has any share of cunning, the apprentice or her master's son is enticed away and ruined by her. Thus many good families are impoverished and disgraced by these pert sluts, who taking the advantage of a young man's simplicity and unruly desires, draw many heedless youths, nay, some of good estates, into their snares; and of this we have but too many instances. Some more artful shall conceal their condition, and palm themselves off on young fellows for gen- tlewomen and great fortunes. How many families have been ruined by these ladies ? when the father or master of the family, preferring the flirting airs of a young prinked up strumpet, to the artless sincerity of a plain, grave and good wife, has given his de- sires aloose, and destroyed soul, body, family, and estate. But they are very favourable if they whee- dle nobody into matrimony, but only make a pre- sent of a small live creature, no bigger than a bas- tard, to some of the family, no matter who gets it ; when a child is born it must be kept. Our sessions' papers of late are crowded with in- stances of servant-maids robbing their places, this can be only attributed to their devilish pride ; for their whole inquiry nowadays, is how little they shall do, how much they shall have. But all this while they make so little reserve, that if they fall sick the parish must keep them, if they are out of place, they must prostitute their bodies, or starve ; so that from chopping and chang- ing, they generally proceed to whoring and thiev- 8 everybody's business ing, and this is the reason why our streets swarm with strumpets. Thus many of them rove from place to place, from bawdyhouse to service, and from service to bawdyhouse again, ever unsettled and never easy, nothing being more common than to find these creatures one week in a good family, and the next in a brothel. This amphibious life makes them fit for neither, for if the bawd uses them ill, away they trip to service, and if their mistress gives them a wry word, whip they are at a bawdyhouse again, so that in effect they neither make good whores nor good servants. Those who are not thus slippery in the tail, are light of finger ; and of these the most pernicious are those who beggar you inchmeal. If a maid is a downright thief she strips you at once, and you know your loss ; but these retail pilferers waste you insensibly, and though you hardly miss it, yet your substance shall decay to such a degree, that you must have a very good bottom indeed not to feel the ill effects of such moths in your family. Tea, sugar, wine, &c, or any such trifling com- modities, are reckoned no thefts, if they do not di- rectly take your pewter from your shelf, or your linen from your drawers, they are very honest : What harm is there, say they, in cribbing a little matter for a junket, a merry bout or so? Nay, there are those that when they are sent to market for one joint of meat, shall take up two on their master's account, and leave one by the way, for some of these maids are mighty charitable, and can make a shift to maintain a small family with what they can purloin from their masters and mistresses. If you send them with ready money, they turn factors, and take threepence or fourpence in the shilling brokerage. And here let me take notice of IS NOBODY S BUSINESS. ^ one very heinous abuse, not to say petty felony, which is practised in most of the great families about town, which is, when the tradesman gives the housekeeper or other commanding servant a penny or twopence in the shilling, or so much in the pound, for everything they send in, and which, from thence, is called poundage. This, in my opinion, is the greatest of villanies, and ought to incur some punishment, yet nothing is more common, and our topping tradesmen, who seem otherwise to stand mightily on their credit, make this but a matter of course and custom. If I do not, says one, another will, (for the servant is sure to pick a hole in the person's coat, who shall not pay contribution.) Thus this wicked practice is carried on and winked at, while receiving of stolen goods, and confederating with felons, which is not a jot worse, is so openly cried out against, and severely punished, witness Jonathan Wild. And yet if a master or mistress inquire after any thing missing, they must be sure to place their words in due form, or madam huffs and flings about at a strange rate, What, would you make a thief of her ? Who would live with such mistrustful folks ? Thus you are obliged to hold your tongue, and sit down quietly by your loss, for fear of offending your maid, forsooth ! Again, if your maid shall maintain one, two, or more persons from your table, whether they are her poor relations, country folk, servants out of place, shoecleaners, charwomen, porters, or any other of her menial servants, who do her ladyship's drudgery and go of her errands, you must not com- plain at your expense, or ask what has become of such a thing, or such a thing ? although it might never so reasonably be supposed that it was altoge- ther impossible to have so much expended in your 10 everybody's business family ; but hold your tongue for peace sake, or madam will say, You grudge her victuals ; and ex- pose you to the last degree all over the neighbour- hood. Thus have they a salve for every sore, cheat you to your face, and insult you into the bargain ; nor can you help yourself without exposing yourself, or putting yourself into a passion. Another great abuse crept in among us, is the giving of vails to servants ; this was intended ori- ginally as an encouragement to such as were willing and handy, but by custom and corruption it is now grown to be a thorn in our sides, and, like other good things, abused, does more harm than good ; for now they make it a perquisite, a material part of their wages, nor must their master give a supper, but the maid expects the guests should pay for it, nay, sometimes through the nose. Thus have they spirited people up to this unnecessary and burthen- some piece of generosity unknown to our fore- fathers, who only gave gifts to servants at Christ- mas-tide, which custom is yet kept up into the bargain ; insomuch that a maid shall have eight pounds per annum in a gentleman's or merchant's family. And if her master is a man of free spirit, who receives much company, she very often dou- bles her wages by her vails ; thus having meat, drink, washing, and lodging for her labour, she throws her whole income upon her back, and by this means looks more like the mistress of the family than the servant-wench. And now we have mentioned washing, I would ask some good housewisely gentlewoman, if servant- maids wearing printed linens, cottons, and other things of that nature, which require frequent washing, do not, by enhancing the article of soap, add more to housekeeping, than the generality of people is nobody's business. 1 1 would imagine ? And yet these wenches cry out against great washes, when their own unnecessary dabs are very often the occasion. But the greatest abuse of all, is, that these crea- tures are become their own lawgivers ; nay, I think they are ours too, though nobody would imagine that such a set of slatterns should bamboozle a whole nation ; but it is neither better nor worse, they hire themselves to you by their own rule. That is, a month's wages, or a month's warning ; if they don't like you they will go away the next day, help yourself how you can ; if you don't like them, you must give them a month's wages to get rid of them. This custom of warning, as practised by our maid- servants, is now become a great inconvenience to masters and mistresses. You must carry your dish very upright, or miss, forsooth, gives you warning, and you are either left destitute, or to seek for a servant ; so that, generally speaking, you are seldom or never fixed, but always at the mercy of every new comer to divulge your family affairs, to inspect your private life, and treasure up the sayings of yourself and friends. A very great confinement, and much complained of in most families. Thus have these wenches by their continual plotting and cabals, united themselves into a formi- dable body, and got the whip hand of their betters; they make their own terms with us ; and two ser- vants now, will scarce undertake the work which one might perform with ease ; notwithstanding which, they have raised their wages to a most exor- bitant pitch ; and, I doubt not, if there be not a stop put to their career, but they will bring wages up to 20/. per annum in time, for they are much about half way already. It is by these means they run away with a great D. C. Y 12 everybody's business part of our money, which might be better employed in trade, and what is worse, by their insolent be- haviour, their pride in dress, and their exorbitant wages, they give birth to the following incon- veniences. First, They set an ill example to our children, our apprentices, our covenant servants, and other de- pendants, by their saucy and insolent behaviour, their pert, and sometimes abusive answers, their daring defiance of correction, and many other inso- lencies which youth are but too apt to imitate. Secondly, By their extravagance in dress, they put our wives and daughters upon yet greater excesses, because they will, as indeed they ought, go finer than the maid ; thus the maid striving to outdo the mistress, the tradesman's wife to outdo the gentleman's wife, the gentleman's wife emulating the lady, and the ladies one another ; it seems as if the whole business of the female sex were nothing but an excess of pride, and extravagance in dress. Thirdly, The great height to which women- ser- vants have brought their wages, makes a mutiny among the men-servants, and puts them upon raising their wages too ; so that in a little time our servants will become our partners ; nay, probably, run away with the better part of our profits, and make servants of us vice versa. But yet with all these inconveniences, we cannot possibly do without these creatures ; let us therefore cease to talk of the abuses arising from them, and begin to think of redressing them. I do not set up for a lawgiver, and therefore shall lay down no certain rules, humbly submitting in all things to the wisdom of our legislature. What I offer shall be under correction; and upon conjecture, my utmost ambition being but to give some hints to remedy this growing evil, and leave the prosecution to abler hands. is nobody's business. 13 And first it would be necessary to settle and limit their wages, from forty and fifty shillings to four and five pounds per annum, that is to say, according to their merits and capacities ; for example, a young unexperienced servant should have forty shillings per annum, till she qualifies herself for a larger sum ; a servant who can do all household work, or, as the good women term it, can take her work and leave her work, should have four pounds per annum ; and those who have lived seven years in one service, should ever after demand five pounds per annum, for I would very fain have some particular encouragements and privileges given to such servants who should continue long in a place ; it would incite a desire to please, and cause an emulation very beneficial to the public. I have heard of an ancient charity in the parish of St. Clement's Danes, where a sum of money, or estate, is left, out of the interest or income of which such maid-servants, who have lived in that parish seven years in one service, receive a reward of ten pounds apiece, if they please to demand it. This is a noble benefaction, and shows the public spirit of the donor ; but everybody's business is no- body's ; nor have I heard that such reward has been paid to any servant of late years. A thousand pities a gift of that nature should sink into oblivion, and not be kept up as an example to incite all parishes to do the like. The Romans had a law called Jus Trium Libe- rorum, by which every man who had been a father of three children, had particular honours and privi- leges. This incited the youth to quit a dissolute single life and become fathers of families, to the support and glory of the empire. In imitation of this most excellent law, I would have such servants, who should continue many years t2 14 everybody's business in one service, meet with singular esteem and re- ward. The apparel of our women-servants should be next regulated, that we may know the mistress from the maid. I remember I was once put very much to the blush, being at a friend's house, and by him required to salute the ladies, I kissed the chamber- jade into the bargain, for she was as well dressed as the best. But I was soon undeceived by a general titter, which gave me the utmost confusion ; nor can I believe myself the only person who has made such a mistake. Things of this nature would be easily avoided, if servant-maids were to wear liveries, as our footmen do; or obliged to go in a dress suitable to their station. What should ail them, but a jacket and petticoat of good yard-wide stuff, or calimanco, might keep them decent and warm. Our charity children are distinguished by their dress, why then may not our women-servants ? why may they not be made frugal per force, and not suffered to put all on their backs, but obliged to save something against a rainy day? I am, therefore, entirely against servants wearing of silks, laces, and other superfluous finery ; it sets them above them- selves, and makes their mistresses contemptible in their eyes. I am handsomer than my mistress, says a young prinked up baggage, what pity it is I should be her servant, I go as well dressed, or better than she. This makes the girl take the first offer to be made a whore, and there is a good servant spoiled ; whereas were her dress suitable to her condition, it would teach her humility, and put her in mind of her duty. Besides the fear of spoiling their clothes makes them afraid of household-work ; so that in a little time we shall have none but chambermaids and is nobody's business. lo nurserymaids ; and of this let me give one instance ; my family is composed of myself and sister, a man and a maid ; and, being without the last, a young wench came to hire herself. The man was gone out, and my sister above stairs, so I opened the door myself, and this person presented herself to my view, dressed completely, more like a visitor than a ser- vant-maid ; she, not knowing me, asked for my sister ; pray, madam, said I, be pleased to walk into the parlour, she shall wait on you presently. Ac- cordingly I handed madam in, who took it very cordially. After some apology, I left her alone for a minute or two ; while I, stupid wretch ! ran up to my sister, and told her there was a gentlewoman below come to visit her. Dear brother, said she, don't leave her alone, go down and entertain her while I dress myself. Accordingly, down I went, and talked of indifferent affairs ; meanwhile my sister dressed herself all over again, not being willing to be seen in an undress. At last she came down dressed as clean as her visitor ; but how great was my surprise when I found my fine lady a common servant-wench. My sister understanding what she was, began to inquire what wages she expected? She modestly asked but eight pounds a year. The next question was, what work she could do to deserve such wages? to which she answered, she could clean a house, or dress a common family dinner. But cannot you wash, replied my sister, or get up linen? she answered in the negative, and said, she would under- take neither, nor would she go into any family that did not put out their linen to wash, and hire a charwoman to scour. She desired to see the house, and having carefully surveyed it, said, the work was too hard for her, nor could she undertake it. This put my sister beyond all patience, and 16 everybody's business me into the greatest admiration. Young woman, said she, you have made a mistake, I want a house- maid, and you are a chambermaid. No, madam, re- plied she, I am not needlewoman enough for that. And yet you ask eight pounds a year, replied my sister. Yes, madam, said she, nor shall I bate a farthing. Then get you gone for a lazy impudent baggage, said I, you want to be a boarder not a servant ; have you a fortune or estate that you dress at that rate ? No, sir, said she, but I hope I may wear what I work for without offence. What you work, interrupted my sister, why you do not seem willing to undertake any work ; you will not wash nor scour ; you cannot dress a dinner for company ; you are no needlewoman ; and our little house, of two rooms on a floor, is too much for you. For God's sake what can you do ? Madam, replied she pertly ; I know my business ; and do not fear a service ; there are more places than parish churches ; if you wash at home, you should have a laundry maid; if you give entertainments, you must have a cook maid ; if you have any needlework, you should have a chambermaid ; and such a house as this is enough for a housemaid in all conscience. I was pleased at the wit, and astonished at the impudence of the girl, so dismissed her with thanks for her instructions, assuring her that when I kept four maids she should be housemaid if she pleased. Were a servant to do my business with cheerful- ness, I should not grudge at five or six pounds per annum ; nor would I be so unchristian to put more upon any one than they can bear ; but to pray and pay too, is the devil. It is very hard, that I must keep four servants or none. In great families, indeed, where many servants are required, those distinctions of chambermaid, housemaid, cookmaid, laundrymaid, nurserymaid, is nobody's business. 17 &c., are requisite, to the end that each may take her particular business, and many hands may make the work light ; but for a private gentleman, of a small fortune, to be obliged to keep so many idle jades, when one might do the business, is into- lerable, and matter of great grievance. I cannot close this discourse without a gentle admonition and reproof to some of my own sex, I mean those gentlemen who give themselves unne- cessary airs, and cannot go to see a friend, but they must kiss and slop the maid ; and all this is done with an air of gallantry, and must not be resented. Tsay, some gentlemen are so silly, that they shall carry on an underhand affair with their friend's servant-maid, to their own disgrace, and the ruin of many a young creature. Nothing is more base and ungenerous, yet nothing more common, and withal so little taken notice of. D — n me, Jack, says one friend to another, this maid of yours is a pretty girl, you do so and so to her by G — d. This makes the creature pert, vain, and impudent, and spoils many a good servant. What gentleman will descend to this low way of intrigue, when he shall consider that he has a foot- boy or an apprentice for his rival, and that he is seldom or never admitted, but when they have been his tasters ; and the fool of fortune, though he comes at the latter end of the feast, yet pays the whole reckoning : and so indeed would I have all such silly cullies served. If I must have an intrigue, let it be with a wo- man that shall not shame me. I would never go into the kitchen, when the parlour door was open. We are forbidden at Highgate, to kiss the maid when we may kiss the mistress ; why then will gen- tlemen descend so low, by too much familiarity with these creatures, to bring themselves into contempt ? 18 everybody's business I have been at places where the maid has been so dizzied with these idle compliments that she has mistook one thing for another, and not regarded her mistress in the least ; but put on all the flirting airs imaginable. This behaviour is nowhere so much complained of as in taverns, coffeehouses, and places of public resort, where there are hand- some barkeepers, &c. These creatures being puffed up with the fulsome flattery of a set of flesh-flies, which are continually buzzing about them, carry themselves with the utmost insolence imaginable ; insomuch, that you must speak to them with a great deal of deference, or you are sure to be affronted. Being at a coffeehouse the other day, where one of these ladies kept the bar, I had be- spoke a dish of rice tea ; but madam was so taken up with her sparks, she had quite forgot it. I spake for it again, and with some temper, but was answered after a most taunting manner, not with- out a toss of the head, a contraction of the nostrils, and other impertinences, too many to enumerate. Seeing myself thus publicly insulted by such an animal, I could not choose but show my resent- ment. Woman, said I, sternly, I want a dish of rice tea, and not what your vanity and impudence may imagine ; therefore treat me as a gentleman and a customer, and serve me with what I call for : keep your impertinent repartees and impudent behaviour for the coxcombs that swarm round your bar, and make you so vain of your blown carcase. And in- deed I believe the insolence of this creature will ruin her master at last, by driving away men of so- briety and business, and making the place a den of vagabonds and rakehells. Gentlemen, therefore, ought to be very circum- spect in their behaviour, and not undervalue them- selves to servant-wenches, who are but too apt to is nobody's business. 19 treat a gentleman ill whenever he puts himself into their power. Let me now beg pardon for this digression, and return to my subject by proposing some practicable methods for regulating of servants, which, whether they are followed or not, yet if they afford matter of improvement and speculation, will answer the height of my expectation, and I will be the first who shall approve of whatever improvements are made from this small beginning. The first abuse I would have reformed, is, that servants should be restrained from throwing them- selves out of place on every idle vagary. This might be remedied were all contracts between master and servant made before a justice of peace, or other proper officer, and a memorandum thereof taken in writing. Nor should such servant leave his or her place (for men and maids might come under the same regulation) till the time agreed on be expired, unless such servant be misused or denied necessaries, or show some other reasonable cause for their discharge. In that case, the master or mistress should be reprimanded or fined. But if servants misbehave themselves, or leave their places, not being regularly discharged, they ought to be amerced or punished. But all those idle, ridiculous customs, and laws of their own making, as a month's wages, or a month's warning, and such- like, should be entirely set aside and abolished. When a servant has served the limited time duly and faithfully, they should be entitled to a cer- tificate, as is practised at present in the wool- combing trade ; nor should any person hire a servant without a certificate or other proper se- curity. A servant without a certificate should be deemed a vagrant ; and a master or mistress ought to assign very good reasons indeed when they 20 everybody's business object against giving a servant his or her cer- tificate. And though, to avoid prolixity, I have not men- tioned footmen particularly in the foregoing dis- course, yet the complaints alleged against the maids are as well masculine as feminine, and very appli- cable to our gentlemen's gentlemen ; I would, there- fore, have them under the very same regulations, and, as they are fellow servants, would not make fish of one and flesh of the other, since daily ex- perience teaches us, that " never a barrel the better herring/' The next great abuse among us, is, that under the notion of cleaning our shoes, above ten thousand wicked, idle, pilfering vagrants are permitted to patrol about our city and suburbs. These are called the black-guard, who black your honour's shoes, and incorporate themselves under the title of the Worshipful Company of Japanners. Were this all, there were no hurt in it, and the whole might terminate in a jest ; but the mischief ends not here, they corrupt our youth, especially our men-servants ; oaths and impudence are their only flowers of rhetoric ; gaming and thieving are the principal parts of their profession ; japanning but the pretence. For example, a gentleman keeps a servant, who among other things is to clean his master's shoes ; but our gentlemen's gentlemen are above it nowadays, and your man's man performs the office, for which piece of service you pay double and treble, especially if you keep a table, nay, you are well off if the japanner has no more than his own diet from it. I have often observed these rascals sneaking from gentlemen's doors with wallets or hats' full of good victuals, which they either carry to their trulls, or sell for a trifle. By this means, our butcher's, is nobody's business. 21 our baker's, our poulterer's, and cheesemonger's bills are monstrously exaggerated ; not to mention can- dles just lighted, which sell for fivepence a pound, and many other perquisites best known to them- selves and the pilfering villains their confederates. Add to this, that their continual gaming sets servants upon their wits to supply this extravagance, though at the same time the master's pocket pays for it, and the time which should be spent in a gentleman's service is loitered away among these rakehells, insomuch that half our messages are in- effectual, the time intended being often expired before the message is delivered. How many and frequent robberies are committed by these japanners ? And to how many more are they confederates ? Silver spoons, spurs, and other small pieces of plate, are every day missing, and very often found upon these sort of gentlemen ; yet are they permitted, to the shame of all our good laws, and the scandal of our most excellent govern- ment, to lurk about our streets, to debauch our servants and apprentices, and support an infinite number of scandalous, shameless trulls, yet more wicked than themselves, for not a Jack among them but must have his Gill. By whom such indecencies are daily acted, even in our open streets, as are very offensive to the eyes and ears of all sober persons, and even abominable in a Christian country. In any riot, or other disturbance, these sparks are always the foremost ; for most among them can turn their hands to picking of pockets, to run away with goods from a fire, or other public confusion, to snatch anything from a woman or child, to strip a house when the door is open, or any other branch of a thief's profession. In short, it is a nursery for thieves and villains ; 22 everybody's business modest women are every day insulted by them and their strumpets ; and such children who run about the streets, or those servants who go on errands, do but too frequently bring home some scraps of their beastly profane wit ; insomuch, that the conver- sation of our lower rank of people runs only upon bawdy and blasphemy, notwithstanding our societies for reformation, and our laws in force against pro- faneness ; for this lazy life gets them many pro- selytes, their numbers daily increasing from run- away apprentices and footboys, insomuch that it is a very hard matter for a gentleman to get him a servant, or for a tradesman to find an apprentice. Innumerable other mischiefs accrue, and others will spring up from this race of caterpillars, who must be swept from out our streets, or we shall be overrun with all manner of wickedness. But the subject is so low, it becomes disagreeable even to myself ; give me leave, therefore, to propose a way to clear the streets of these vermin, and to substitute as many honest industrious persons in their stead, who are now starving for want of bread, while these execrable villains live, though in rags and nastiness, yet in plenty and luxury. I, therefore, humbly propose that these vagabonds be put immediately under the command of such taskmasters as the government shall appoint, and that they be employed, punished, or rewarded, ac- cording to their capacities and demerits ; that is to say, the industrious and docible to woolcombing, and other parts of the woollen manufacture, where hands are wanted, as also to husbandry and other parts of agriculture. For it is evident that there are scarce hands enow in the country to carry on either of these affairs. Now, these vagabonds might not only by this means be kept out of harm's way, but be ren- is nobody's business. 23 dcred serviceable to the nation. Nor is there any need of transporting them beyond seas, for if any are refractory they should be sent to our stannaries and other mines, to our coal works and other places where hard labour is required. And here I must offer one thing never yet thought of, or proposed by any, and that is, the keeping in due repair the navigation of the river Thames, so useful to our trade in general ; and yet of late years such vast hills of sand are gathered together in several parts of the river, as are very prejudicial to its navigation, one which is near London bridge, another near Whitehall, a third near Battersea, and a fourth near Fulham. These are of very great hindrance to the navigation ; and indeed the removal of them ought to be a national concern, which I humbly propose may be thus effected. The rebellious part of these vagabonds, as also other thieves and offenders, should be formed into bodies under the command of proper officers, and under the guard and awe of our soldiery. These should every day at low water carry away these sandhills, and remove every other obstruction to the navigation of this most excellent and useful river. It may be objected that the ballast men might do this ; that as fast as the hills are taken away they would gather together again, or that the watermen might do it. To the first, I answer, that ballast men, instead of taking away from these hills, make holes in other places of the river, which is the reason so many young persons are drowned when swimming or bathing in the river. Besides, it is a work for many hands, and of long continuance ; so that ballast men do more harm than good. The second objection is as silly, as if I should never wash myself, because I shall be dirty 24 everybody's business again, and I think needs no other answer. And as to the third objection, the watermen are not so public-spirited, they live only from hand to mouth, though not one of them but finds the inconvenience of these hills, every day being obliged to go a great way round about for fear of running aground ; in- somuch that in a few years the navigation of that part of the river will be entirely obstructed. Ne- vertheless every one of these gentlemen -watermen hopes it will last his time, and so they all cry, The devil take the hindmost. But yet I judge it highly necessary that this be made a national concern, like Dagenham breach, and that these hills be removed by some means or other. And now I have mentioned watermen give me leave to complain of the insolences and exactions they daily commit on the river Thames, and in parti- cular this one instance, which cries aloud for jus- tice. A young lady of distinction, in company with her brother, a little youth, took a pair of oars at or near the Temple, on April day last, and ordered the men to carry them to Pepper Alley Stairs. One of the fellows, according to their ususal impertinence, asked the lady where she was going ? She an- swered, near St. Olave's church. Upon which he said, she had better go through the bridge. The lady replied she had never gone through the bridge in her life, nor would she venture for a hundred guineas ; so commanded him once more to land her at Pepper Alley Stairs. Notwithstanding which, in spite of her fears, threats, and commands ; nay, in spite of the persuasion of his fellow, he forced her through London -bridge, which fright- ened her beyond expression. And to mend the matter, he obliged her to pay double fare, and mobbed her into the bargain. IS NOBODY S BUSINESS. 20 To resent which abuse, application was made to the hall, the fellow summoned^ and the lady or- dered to attend, which she did, waiting there all the morning, and was appointed to call again in the afternoon. She came accordingly, they told her the fellow had been there, but was gone, and that she must attend another Friday. She attended again and again, but to the same purpose. Nor have they yet produced the man, but tired out the lady, who has spent above ten shillings in coach- hire, been abused and baffled into the bargain. It is pity, therefore, there are not commissioners for watermen, as there are for hackney coachmen ; or that justices of the peace might not inflict bo- dily penalties on watermen thus offending. But while watermen are watermen's judges, I shall laugh at those who carry their complaints to the hall. The usual plea in behalf of abusive watermen is, that they are drunk, ignorant, or poor ; but will that satisfy the party aggrieved, or deter the offender from reoffending ? Whereas were the offenders sent to the house of correction, and there punished, or sentenced to work at the sandhills afore-mentioned, for a time suitable to the nature of their crimes, terror of such punishments would make them fearful of offending, to the great quiet of the subject. Now it may be asked, How shall we have our shoes cleaned, or how are these industrious poor to be maintained ? To this I answer that the places of these vagabonds may be very well supplied by great numbers of ancient persons, poor widows, and others, who have not enough from their respective parishes to maintain them. These poor people I would have authorised and stationed by the justices of the peace or other magistrates. Each of these 26 everybody's business should have a particular walk or stand, and no other shoecleaner should come into that walk, unless the person misbehave and be removed. Nor should any person clean shoes in the streets, but these authorised shoecleaners, who should have some mark of distinction, and be under the imme- diate government of the justices of the peace. Thus would many thousands of poor people be provided for, without burdening their parishes. Some of these may earn a shilling or two in the day, and none less than sixpence or thereabouts. And lest the old japanners should appear again, in the shape of linkboys, and knock down gentlemen in drink, or lead others out of the way into dark remote places, where they either put out their lights, and rob them themselves, or run away and leave them to be pillaged by others, as is daily practised, I would have no person carry a link for hire but some of these industrious poor, and even such, not without some ticket or badge, to let people know whom they trust. Thus would the streets be cleared night and day of these vermin ; nor would oaths, skirmishes, blasphemy, obscene talk, or other wicked examples, be so public and frequent. All gaming at orange and gingerbread barrows should be abolished, as also all penny and halfpenny lotteries, thimbles and balls, &c., so fre- quent in Moorfields, Lincoln-inn fields, &c, where idle fellows resort, to play with children and ap- prentices, and tempt them to steal their parents' or master's money. There is one admirable custom in the city of London, which I could wish were imitated in the city and liberties of Westminster, and bills of mor- tality, which is, no porter can carry a burden or letter in the city, unless he be a ticket porter ; whereas, out of the freedom-part of London, any is nobody's business 27 person may take a knot and turn porter, till he be entrusted with something of value, and then you never hear of him more. This is very common, and ought to be amended. I would, therefore, have all porters under some such regulation as coachmen, chairmen, carmen, &c. ; a man may then know whom he entrusts, and not run the risk of losing his goods, &c. Nay, I would not have a person carry a basket in the markets, who is not subject to some such regulation ; for very many persons often- times lose their dinners in sending their meat home by persons they know nothing of. Thus would all our poor be stationed, and a man or woman, able to perform any of these offices, must either comply or be termed an idle vagrant, and sent to a place where they shall be forced to work. By this means industry will be encouraged, idleness punished, and we shall be famed, as well as happy for our tranquillity and decorum. FINIS. OXFORD : PRINTED BY D. A. XALBOYS. u^,-t- I Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Dec. 2004 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATIOM 1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township. PA 16066 (724)779-2111