tool, wrenched open the chest, from which he took a suit of clothes and some fine linen. 'These,' said he, 'neither the owner nor I want;' so laid them down. The next thing he took out was a roll of parchment, being blank indentures and leases; there,' said he, ‘are instruments of law, and are often applied to injustice; but I'll alter their mischievous properties, and make them records of Heaven's mercies, and Providence's wonderful liberality to me; instead of being the ruin of some, they may chance to be the reclaiming of others." At the bottom of the chest lay a runlet of brandy, a Cheshire cheese, a leather bottle full of ink, with a parcel of pens, ink, and a penknife; 'as for these,' said he, 'they are of use; the pens, ink, and parchment, have equipped me to keep a journal, which will divert and pass away a few anxious hours. By degrees he took home the chest and its contents; and now having materials to begin his journal, he immediately fell to work; that for want of other books, he might at his leisure peruse his past transactions, and the many mercies he had received from heaven; and that after his decease whoever might be directed hither by Providence, upon reading his wonderful escapes in the greatest of dangers, his miraculous living when remote from human assistance, in the like extremity he should not despair. Thus he began from his being eight years old, to the day of his being cast away, being then twenty-eight years of age, resolving to continue it to his death." We can It can hardly be expected that we should attempt the barest outline of incidents in a magazine article. only touch a few points in a very cursory manner. The hero of the adventures is a philosopher by nature and from circumstances: he has got a habit of reflection, and is perpetually moralizing on the most familiar aspects of nature, and the most ordinary occurrences of life. Thus, walking along the sea shore, he perceives at the foot of a rock, “an extraordinary large whale, which, cast there by the late high wind, had died for want of water. There were shoals of small fishes swimming about it in the shallow water wherein it lay as rejoicing at its death." Upon this he remarks, "Thus the oppressed rejoice at a tyrant's fall. Well, happy are they who, like me, are under heaven's government only." He then with his knife cut several slices of the whale and threw them to the small fishes, saying, "It is just ye should, at last, feed on that which so long fed on you;" a homily which admits of a political construction. Here recurs another instance of his philosophic turn. "One day, having walked the island over and over, he proceeded to view the sea, whose fluid element being ever in motion, affords new objects of admiration. The day being very fair, and the weather as calm, he sat down upon the rock, taking pleasure in seeing the waves roll, and, as it were, chase one another; the second pursuing the first, and being itself overtaken by a succeeding, until they sunk altogether. This,' said he, 'is a true emblem of ambition; men striving to outdo one another are often undone.'" As he was making reflections on the emptiness of vanity and pride, and returning thanks to heaven that he was separated from the world, which abounds in nothing so much, a ship appeared at a great distance, a sight he had not seen since his shipwreck. "Most unlucky invention, said he, " that ever came into a man's thoughts. The ark, which gave the first notion of a floating habitation, was ordered for the preservation of man; but its fatal copies daily expose him to destruction." Notwithstanding his philosophy, Quarll is thrown into deep distress by the failure of an attempt to reach the is land, on the part of the sailors. This was, however, brief. Again, he misses an opportunity of escape. On a third occasion, an endeavor is made to carry him off by force, for exhibition. This was unsuccessful. A fourth chance of release is repulsed by him, having determined to spend the remnant of his life in his (now) beloved retreat. Our hermit has a lively talent for coloring, an agreeable, descriptive fancy. The following present a few examples: Antelopes. "Having a majestic presence, body and limbs. representing a stag, and the noble march of a horse." A beautiful unknown bird. "He contemplated with delight on the inexpressible beauty of the feathers, which on the back were after the nature of a drake's, every one distinguished from the other by a rim round the edge, about the breadth of a large thread, and being of a changeable color, from red to aurora and green; the ribs were of a delightful blue, and the feathers pearl-color, speckled with a bright yellow; the breast and belly, if they might be said to be of any particular color, were that of dove's feathers, rimmed like the back, diversely changing; the head, which was like that of a swan for make, was purple, changing as if moved; the bill like burnished gold; the eyes like a ruby, with a rim of gold around them; the feet the same as the bill; the size of the bird was between that of a middling goose and a duck, and in shape it somewhat resembled a swan." Can this be a veritable picture or a fanciful extravagance? A little farther on is the description of a bird somewhat similar, but still more gorgeous in its plumage. The sea monster he paints a horrible creature, and with the Gorgon terrors of Behemoth himself. It is evidently an imaginary phantasm. "A form without likeness, and yet comparable to the most terrible part of every frightful creature; a large head, resembling that of a lion, bearing three, pair of horns; one pair upright, like that of an antelope, another pair like wild goats', two more bending backwards; its face armed all round with darts, like a porcupine; with great eyes sparkling like a flint struck with a steel; its nose like a wild horse, always snarling; the mouth of a lion and teeth of a panther, the jaws of an elephant, and the tusks of a wild. boar, shouldered like a giant, with claws like an eagle, bodied and covered with shells like a rhinoceros, and the color of a crocodile." In this fertile region, Quarll meets with numberless instances of the prodigality of nature; the rarest fruits, fowls, and fishes; forests of beautiful trees, sometimes of miraculous size, one covered with its branches a whole acre; while another grew for the same extent, so closely interwoven in its branches, which seemed almost to spring from the roots, as to form an impenetrable barrier, a sort of natural picket or palisade. Monkeys were the hermit's pets, and he would. sometimes excite a quarrel between two varieties, the green and grey species, to induce reflections on the folly of brawling and fighting. For invariably a third party came in and stole away the spoils for which they were contending. A pleasant instance of our hermit's loyalty is mentioned in the introduction to the adventures by the compilers of them, in whose hands Quarll left his MSS.; which, at the same time, fixes the general date of the work. At the repast given by the old man to Dorrington, the health of George III. was drunk; and an eulogium passed upon his character, to which some dissenting criticism might be offered. We have now endeavored to give the reader a general idea of Philip Quarll's adventures, but trust he will speedily consult that history itself to verify our conjectures in part, but more particularly for the amusement and profit of an entire perusal. Peter Wilkins we can hardly pretend to write upon after Hunt. But we may retain a remembrance, and hazard a conjecture. It was our first play (the story dramatized) and hence can by no possibility be forgotten, as such an occasion forms an epoch in the life of every individual. We cannot think the author of Philip Quarll and Peter Wilkins are one and the same person, for with a great similarity, an element entirely original is introduced into the latter, the author of which displays a more copious invention and a more spiritual fancy than the author of the first work. Both are admirable of their kind, a class now quite extinct, and to the re-production of which, our present race of story-tellers appear quite inadequate from a want of faith, a want of invention, a want of simplicity, and a want of exact truth and fidelity of imagination. XIII. WALTON'S LIVES, "There are no colors in the fairest sky So fair as these. The feather whence the pen In Statesman, Priest, and humble citizen; O could we copy their mild virtues, then Methinks their very names shine still and bright; |