application than I had ever done formerly. The books which now
employed my time solely were those, as well antient as modern, which
treat of true philosophy, a word which is by many thought to be the
subject only of farce and ridicule. I now read over the works of
Aristotle and Plato, with the rest of those inestimable treasures
which antient Greece had bequeathed to the world.
"These authors, though they instructed me in no science by which men
may promise to themselves to acquire the least riches or worldly
power, taught me, however, the art of despising the highest
acquisitions of both. They elevate the mind, and steel and harden it
against the capricious invasions of fortune. They not only instruct in
the knowledge of Wisdom, but confirm men in her habits, and
demonstrate plainly, that this must be our guide, if we propose ever
to arrive at the greatest worldly happiness, or to defend ourselves,
with any tolerable security, against the misery which everywhere
surrounds and invests us.
"To this I added another study, compared to which, all the
philosophy taught by the wisest heathens is little better than a
dream, and is indeed as full of vanity as the silliest jester ever
pleased to represent it. This is that Divine wisdom which is alone
to be found in the Holy Scriptures; for they impart to us the
knowledge and assurance of things much more worthy our attention
than all which this world can offer to our acceptance; of things which
Heaven itself hath condescended to reveal to us, and to the smallest
knowledge of which the highest human wit unassisted could never
ascend. I began now to think all the time I had spent with the best
heathen writers was little more than labour lost: for, however
pleasant and delightful their lessons may be, or however adequate to
the right regulation of our conduct with respect to this world only;
yet, when compared with the glory revealed in Scripture, their highest
documents will appear as trifling, and of as little consequence, as
the rules by which children regulate their childish little games and
pastime. True it is, that philosophy makes us wiser, but
Christianity makes us better men. Philosophy elevates and steels the
mind, Christianity softens and sweetens it. The for makes us the
objects of human admiration, the latter of Divine love. That insures
us a temporal, but this an eternal happiness.- But I am afraid I tire
you with my rhapsody."
"Not at all," cries Partridge; "Lud forbid we should be tired with
good things!"
"I had spent," continued the stranger, "about four years in the most
delightful manner to myself, totally given up to contemplation, and
entirely unembarrassed with the affairs of the world, when I lost
the best of fathers, and one whom I so entirely loved, that my grief
at his loss exceeds all description. I now abandoned my books, and
gave myself up for a whole month to the effects of melancholy and
despair. Time, however, the best physician of the mind, at length
brought me relief."- "Ay, ay; Tempus edax rerum," said Partridge.-
"I then," continued the stranger, "betook myself again to my former
studies, which I may say perfected my cure, for philosophy and
religion may be called the exercises of the mind, and when this is
disordered, they are as wholesome as exercise can be to a
distempered body. They do indeed produce similar effects with
exercise; for they strengthen and confirm the mind, till man
becomes, in the noble strain of Horace-
Fortis, et in seipso totus teres atque rotundus,
Externi ne quid valeat per laeve morari;
In quem manca ruit semper Fortuna"*
*Firm in himself, who on himself relies,
Polish'd and round, who runs his proper course
And breaks misfortunes with superior force.- MR. FRANCIS
Here Jones smiled at some conceit which intruded itself into his
imagination; but the stranger, I believe, perceived it not, and
proceeded thus:-
"My circumstances were now greatly altered by the death of that best
of men; for my brother, who was now become master of the house,
differed so widely from me in his inclinations, and our pursuits in
life had been so very various, that we were the worst of company to
each other: but what made our living together still more disagreeable,
was the little harmony which could subsist between the few who
resorted to me, and the numerous train of sportsmen who often attended
my brother from the field to the table; for such fellows, besides
the noise and nonsense with which they persecute the ears of sober
men, endeavour always to attack them with affront and contempt. This
was so much the case, that neither I myself, nor my friends, could
ever sit down to a meal with them without being treated with derision,
because we were unacquainted with the phrases of sportsmen. For men of
true learning, and almost universal knowledge, always compassionate
the ignorance of others; but fellows who excel in some little, low,
contemptible art, are always certain to despise those who are
unacquainted with that art.
"In short, we soon separated, and I went, by the advice of a
physician, to drink the Bath waters; for my violent affliction,
added to a sedentary life, had thrown me into a kind of paralytic
disorder, for which those waters are accounted an almost certain cure.
The second day after my arrival, as I was walking by the river, the
sun shone so intensely hot (though it was early in the year), that I
retired to the shelter of some willows, and sat down by the river
side. Here I had not been seated long before I heard a person on the
other side of the willows sighing and bemoaning himself bitterly. On a
sudden, having uttered a most impious oath, he cried, 'I am resolved
to bear it no longer,' directly threw himself into the water. I
immediately started, and ran towards the place, calling at the same
time as loudly as I could for assistance. An angler happened luckily
to be a-fishing a little below though some very high sedge had hid him
from my sight. He immediately came up, and both of us together, not
without some hazard of our lives, drew the body to the shore. At first
we perceived no sign of life remaining; but having held the body up by
the heels (for we soon had assistance enough), it discharged a vast
quantity of water at the mouth, and at length began to discover some
symptoms of breathing, and a little afterwards to move both its
hands and its legs.
"An apothecary, who happened to be present among others, advised
that the body, which seemed now to have pretty well emptied itself
of water, and which began to have many convulsive motions, should be
directly taken up, and carried into a warm bed. This was accordingly
performed, the apothecary and myself attending.
"As we were going towards an inn, for we knew not the man's
lodgings, luckily a woman met us, who, after some violent screaming,
told us that the gentleman lodged at her house.
"When I had seen the man safely deposited there, I left him to the
care of the apothecary; who, I suppose, used all the right methods
with him, for the next morning I heard he had perfectly recovered
his senses.
"I then went to visit him, intending to search out, as well as I
could, the cause of his having attempted so desperate an act, and to
prevent, as far as I was able, his pursuing such wicked intentions for
the future. I was no sooner admitted into his chamber, than we both
instantly knew each other; for who should this person be but my good
friend Mr. Watson! Here I will not trouble you with what past at our
first interview; for I would avoid prolixity as much as
possible."- "Pray let us hear all," cries Partridge; "I want mightily
to know what brought him to Bath."
"You shall hear everything material," answered the stranger; and
then proceeded to relate what we shall proceed to write, after we have
given a short breathing time to both ourselves and the reader.
Chapter 14
In which the Man of the Hill concludes his history
"Mr. Watson," continued the stranger, "very freely acquainted me,
that the unhappy situation of his circumstances, occasioned by a
tide of ill luck, had in a manner forced him to a resolution of
destroying himself.
"I now began to argue very seriously with him, in opposition to this
heathenish, or indeed diabolical, principle of the lawfulness of
self-murder; and said everything which occurred to me on the
subject; but, to my great concern, it seemed to have very little
effect on him. He seemed not at all to repent of what he had done, and
gave me reason to fear he would soon make a second attempt of the like
horrible kind.
"When I had finished my discourse, instead of endeavouring to answer
my arguments, he looked me stedfastly in the face, and with a smile
said, 'You are strangely altered, my good friend, since I remember
you. I question whether any of our bishops could make a better
argument against suicide than you have entertained me with; but unless
you can find somebody who will lend me a cool hundred, I must either
hang, or drown, or starve, and, in my opinion, the last death is the
most terrible of the three.'
"I answered him very gravely that I was indeed altered since I had
seen him last. That I had found leisure to look into my follies and to
repent of them. I then advised him to pursue the same steps; and at
last concluded with an assurance that I myself would lend him a
hundred pound, if it would be of any service to his affairs, and he
would not put it into the power of a die to deprive him of it.
"Mr. Watson, who seemed almost composed in slumber by the former
part of my discourse, was roused by the latter. He seized my hand
eagerly, gave me a thousand thanks, and declared I was a friend
indeed; adding that he hoped I had a better opinion of him than to
imagine he had profited so little by experience, as to put any
confidence in those damned dice which had so often deceived him.
'No, no,' cries he; 'let me but once handsomely be set up again, and
if ever Fortune makes a broken merchant of me afterwards, I will
forgive her.'
"I very well understood the language of setting up, and broken
merchant. I therefore said to him, with a very grave face, Mr. Watson,
you must endeavour to find out some business or employment, by which
you may procure yourself a livelihood; and I promise you, could I
see any probability of being repaid hereafter, I would advance a
much larger sum than what you have mentioned, to equip you in any fair
and honourable calling; but as to gaming, besides the baseness and
wickedness of making it a profession, you are really, to my own
knowledge, unfit for it, and it will end in your certain ruin.
"'Why now, that's strange,' answered he; neither you, nor any of
my friends, would ever allow me to know anything of the matter, and
yet I believe I am as good a hand at every game as any of you all; and
I heartily wish I was to play with you only for your whole fortune:
I should desire no better sport, and I would let you name your game
into the bargain: but come, my dear boy, have you the hundred in
your pocket?"
"I answered I had only a bill for L50, which I delivered him, and
promising to bring him the rest next morning; and after giving him a
little more advice, took my leave.
"I was indeed better than my word; for I returned to him that very
afternoon. When I entered the room, I found him sitting up in his
bed at cards with a notorious gamester. This sight, you will
imagine, shocked me not a little; to which I may add the mortification
of seeing my bill delivered by him to his antagonist, and thirty
guineas only given in exchange for it.
"The other gamester presently quitted the room, and then Watson
declared he was ashamed to see me; 'but,' says he, 'I find luck runs
so damnably against me, that I will resolve to leave off play for
ever. I have thought of the kind proposal you made me ever since,
and I promise you there shall be no fault in me, if I do not put it in
execution.'
"Though I had no great faith in his promises, I produced him the
remainder of the hundred in consequence of my own; for which he gave
me a note, which was all I ever expected to see in return for my
money.
"We were prevented from any further discourse at present by the
arrival of the apothecary; who, with much joy in his countenance,
and without even asking his patient how he did, proclaimed there was
great news arrived in a letter to himself, which he said would shortly
be public, 'That the Duke of Monmouth was landed in the west with a
vast army of Dutch; and that another vast fleet hovered over the coast
of Norfolk, and was to make a descent there, in order to favour the
duke's enterprize with a diversion on that side.'
"This apothecary was one of the greatest politicians of his time. He
was more delighted with the most paultry packet, than with the best
patient, and the highest joy he was capable of, he received from
having a piece of news in his possession an hour or two sooner than
any other person in town. His advices, however, were seldom authentic;
for he would swallow almost anything a truth- a humour which many
made use of to impose upon him.
"Thus it happened with what he at present communicated; for it was
known within a short time afterwards that the duke was really
landed, but that his army consisted only of a few attendants; and as
to the diversion in Norfolk, it was entirely false.
"The apothecary staid no longer in the room than while he acquainted
us with his news; and then, without saying a syllable to his patient
on any other subject, departed to spread his advices all over the
town.
"Events of this nature in the public are generally apt to eclipse
