The Travels and Adventures of James Massey Part 10

'Tis a curious Subject, _reply'd I_, but do you know what your Doctor thinks about the Production of Animals? He thinks, said he, that Generation is the only way by which they are produc'd, whatever Argument may be invented to favour a contrary Opinion.

For as to the Instance of Fruits with Worms in them, whereof there's no Appearance without which way they got within, this is attended with no Difficulty. To explain this matter it must be observ'd, that Flies and such Insects commonly creep into the c.h.i.n.ks of Trees and Plants, not only to shelter themselves from the Injuries of the Air, but to get Nourishment from the Sap; so that if the Eggs of such Vermin happen to be in the Place where Fruit is to be form'd, that which is nearest being encompa.s.s'd with the first Drop of the Moisture that issues out of it for its Formation, lies inclos'd in it, and lives in it till the Fruit is ripe, or as long as there remains any thing for it to subsist on; and when such Provision is spent, it penetrates thro' the Obstacle that stops it, and makes its Way out. To confirm this Opinion by undeniable Proof, only look upon the Gall-nut, and if you examine its Production carefully, you will find something in it that is surprizing.

The Gall-nut is an Excrement, or, if you please, _said he_, a sort of little Apples that grow in the Leaves of Oaks, after this manner: There are certain black Flies, which in the Season lay their delicate Eggs on the lower side of the Leaves of those great Trees, for fear they should be scorch'd by the Heat of the Sun: As soon as these little Animals are hatch'd, they break thro' the Covering which gives them Shade, and pierce thro' the Veins of it, in order to be nourish'd by the Juice that comes out of it in a great Quant.i.ty. If it then happens that one of these Insects be environ'd with a Drop that has any due Consistency, it stays there while such Drop congeals, grows and becomes a Fruit at last, of the Bigness of a Pigeon's Egg, more or less, and it does not go out of it till 'tis become a Fly, or till the Fruit which it was in a manner produc'd, be too dry to give it Nourishment. He confirm'd this Hypothesis by other Arguments which I don't remember.

Three Weeks after my Imprisonment I was carry'd to the Holy Office: The Judge having ask'd me the Place of my Birth, my Age and my Religion (to which I answer'd very readily) conjur'd me to declare with my own Mouth the Reason of my being detain'd, because there was no better Method for my speedy Deliverance out of Trouble, expecting, no doubt, that I should act with regard to that Tribunal, as I wou'd before G.o.d, that is to say, make Confession of my Faults, in order to obtain Mercy. I protested to him, that I had not done or said any thing which I cou'd reproach my self with, or which any body cou'd lawfully lay to my Charge; that G.o.d was Witness of my Innocence, and that it must: be some ill-minded Person, who perhaps envy'd my Success in my Business, that had done me the Mischief to accuse me of some Crime that I had never committed. In fine, I gave him to understand, that I had great Dependance upon his Goodness, and that if he did but inquire into my Life he wou'd soon be convinc'd of the Truth of what I told him.

The same thing happened to me a fortnight after, and so on till I had been examin'd seven times; after which the Inquisitor told me, that since I did not care to make a true Confession of the Crimes I had committed, as a means of recovering my Liberty, they should proceed to declare against me. At the same time the Secretary read the Depositions, which set forth that I had spoke contemptibly of the Images of Saints, Crucifixes, Purgatory, and the Infallibility of the Holy Office. What say you to that? _said the Judge_, I own, _said I_, that when I beheld the Irregularity of most of the Inhabitants of this City, I could not help declaring in several Places, that I was surpriz'd to see, that People, who scrupled to pa.s.s before a Crucifix often made of vile Stuff, without paying a profound Reverence to it, or were afraid to neglect one Day without falling down twenty times before Images of Paper, made no Scruple to wallow in the Ordure of the most infamous Vices that can be committed in a Society of reasonable Creatures. 'Tis also true, that I spoke of Purgatory, as a Place which I thought very unnecessary, because 'tis sufficient for a Christian to believe that his Saviour's Blood cleanseth him from all his Sins. And as to Infallibility, _said I_, I don't think it can be lawfully ascrib'd to any but G.o.d, all Men being Sinners, according to several plain Pa.s.sages of the holy Scripture. I own, _said I_, that I talk'd after this manner, but G.o.d knows that 'twas only with a View to glorify his Name, and from the Abhorrence I had to see so much Licentiousness in a Place where Piety and Devotion are pretended to reign in a very eminent Degree, and not with any Design to offend Religion or the holy Office. You took too great a Liberty, Friend, reply'd the Inquisitor; if you had however confess'd all this at first, it wou'd not have been the worse for you, tho' your Guilt wou'd have been the same. Mean time the Secretary, who wrote down my Confession in the Nature of a formal Deposition, order'd me to sign it, whereupon a Process was commenc'd against me; I was condemn'd to the Gallies for Life, and all my Goods confiscated.

We were about an hundred and fifty poor Wretches, who, on the 8th of _January_, 1670, were turn'd out of this terrible Place, some to be banish'd, of whom our _Chinese_ was one, some to be whipp'd, and three, who had been accus'd of Magic, were burnt alive, particularly a poor old Man of four-score and three, whom two different Orders of Monks had depriv'd of a very considerable Inheritance, by forcing his Brother, who was a rich Man, to make a Will, by which they got Possession of all that he left behind him at his Death, on pretence of delivering his Soul forthwith out of Purgatory. This unjust Proceeding so exasperated the old Man, that he cou'd not help fretting at it, and raving against those Persons whom he took to be the Authors of this Injustice, whereupon they loaded him with Crimes that deserv'd Burning, and did not cease to prosecute him till they saw him consum'd to Ashes.

CHAP. XV.

_Of the Author's Departure for_ Lisbon: _How he was taken and carry'd into Slavery, and what happened to him while he was a Slave._

I was carry'd aboard a s.h.i.+p, the Captain of which had Orders to deliver me over to the Inquisitor at _Lisbon_; so that we set out that same Month for _Portugal_. I was told by the way, that the Galleys, to which I was condemn'd, were only Houses of Correction, where the Prisoners were put to hard Labour, because the _Portuguese_ have no Galleys at Sea. This comforted me a little in my Misfortune. I thought it a great Happiness to be deliver'd from the Oar, and the Cruelties exercis'd by the Tyrants of the Committees upon the Slaves chain'd on board their Vessels. We had a tolerable Voyage, and the finest Weather all the way that we could reasonably expect. The most remarkable thing that happen'd to us was, that on the 23d of _March_ a Water-spout had like to have carry'd off our Main-topmast. The Crew thought themselves lost, and in a Moment the most impious Expressions were chang'd into those of Devotion, which continu'd till the Hurricane left us. At length, after having pa.s.s'd the _Canaries_ a long time, and being arriv'd, as I thought, at N.

Lat. 34. two Pirates came up with us one Morning at Day-break, which fell to cannonading us stoutly. Tho' we had made a good Voyage, yet there were several sick People on board of us; we fought however near two Hours, during which I've had twelve Men kill'd, and seventeen wounded. I beg Pardon of G.o.d, but I must own I was glad that we were fallen into the Hands of Pirates, because I thereby hoped to recover my Liberty;, but it did not turn out as I expected. The Captain redeem'd his s.h.i.+p for a Sum of Money, and the Pirates only took thirty of the stoutest and cleverest Men, besides my self, whom they carry'd to _Serselli_, a little Town upon the _Mediterranean_, twenty Leagues from Algier, and four from the River _Miromus_. There we landed on the 18th of _July_, and were sold to the highest Bidder.

My Master was a s.h.i.+p-carpenter, a Man of Substance, who had at least thirty Boys in his Service. At first, I was only employ'd in the coa.r.s.e Work; to fetch and carry, and to serve the Workmen with what they wanted, was my proper Occupation. Afterwards I helped to careen the s.h.i.+ps, to refit them, and to calk them.

There was a vast difference betwixt my Condition of Life now, and that I was in at _Goa_ before I was detained there; yet when I remember'd what I had suffer'd in the Inquisition, and what was preparing for me at _Lisbon_, I thought my self extremely happy.

In short, I had a Master that was perfectly honest, who seeing that I did my best, did not let me want for Necessaries. The Lodging was good, the Provisions better, and he never gave me an angry Word. This made mean hundred times call to mind the Idea that us'd to be given of the _Barbarians_ and _Turks_ among us Children. They were represented to us as Devils; but I must lay it to their Commendation, that I found as much Charity, Humanity, and Honesty among them as among the _Europeans_; nay, more, if I may presume to say so, insomuch that I should not have been sorry if it had been my Hap to have ended my Days among them; but Providence was pleas'd to dispose of me otherwise; and the Methods it made use of to bring me out of that Country are pretty remarkable.

As there is nothing perfect in this World, _Schilt_, the Head Footman, who was a Renegado and a Native of _Vienna_, hated me as much as my Patron lov'd me. There was no ill Office which the Traitor did not do me when he had an Opportunity to false Appearances; so that my Master, who plainly saw where the Fault lay, but could not possibly do without him, was forc'd against the Grain to part with me: I was sold to a wealthy n.o.bleman, who liv'd in the Country about three Leagues off from the Place where I was.

This n.o.bleman had a Son of twenty seven or twenty eight Years of Age, who was a Fool, and sometimes quite mad. He had lucid Intervals of Reason, but at other times he rent his Clothes, broke his Chain sometimes, and would have been likely to have torn those in pieces who came in his reach, or to have kill'd himself if he had not been prevented. An Amour was the Cause of this Frenzy. He had courted a Girl, who wou'd not have him, upon which he mop'd at first, and at last his Head turn'd. There was a Necessity for some body to be near the poor Wretch Day and Night, and they were willing to have a Man of a proper Age, Wisdom, and Strength to watch over his Actions. I had sufficiently of the first, and was not entirely dest.i.tute of the others: And I can say, that I manag'd it so as was very pleasing to my Superiors.

He had not been six Weeks under my Care, but I did what I wou'd with him, except when he fell into a Pa.s.sion, and then he car'd for no body, and all that could be done with him, was to keep him fast bound, and to let nothing come in his way that he could do any Damage to.

This House, or rather this stately Palace, was a Place of Resort for all the Gentlemen thereabouts, and Foreigners were there eternally. One Day a Bashaw arriv'd there, who was receiv'd with very particular Tokens of Esteem and Respect. They lodg'd him in a very magnificent Room, which look'd into the inner Court; but towards Midnight the Gentleman was awak'd by a prodigious Rattle in his Chamber, which, for all he was a Bashaw, frighted him, so that he lifted up his Head, look'd first one way, then another, and at last spy'd at one End of the Hall a Creature lying upon a piece of _Turky_-wrought Tapistry, which he could not tell what to make of. He was upon the point of rising out of his Bed, and going near to examine it, or of calling out to some body else to come to it, but while he was hesitating which to do, the Object on which he had fix'd his Eyes rose up on a sudden, advanc'd towards his Tent, dragging a huge Chain after him, and in very tatter'd Clothes, with a Beard that cover'd half of his Face, and bare-headed, so that he look'd more like a Devil than a Man. At this Spectacle he was struck all of a Heap: But this was not all; for the Spectre not only walk'd twenty times round the Room, but came to the Bashaw's Bed-side, and lay down by him for half an hour, without doing or saying any thing, and then getting up again, marched out, pulling the Door after him very hard. When the Morning came my Patron was surpriz'd that he had not seen his Guest; for Breakfast had been ready a long time, and they had promis'd one another to walk out in the Morning to get them a Stomach. At last, about eleven o'Clock he sent a Domestic, and bid him steal in softly, to see if he was asleep. The Man opening the Door, and creeping into the Room, advanc'd gradually to the Bed-side, and saw the poor Bashaw staring with his Eyes wide open, but pale as Death, with all the other Symptoms of a man that had scarce any Life left within him. The Servant return'd as softly as he enter'd, made but one Leap to his Master, and told him what he had seen. Upon this the whole House was in an Alarm; they all ran to see him; they spoke to him, ask'd him what was the Matter, but he spoke not a Word, so that every body believ'd he was at the point of Death. Mean time some body having thought fit to put a Drop of Spirit of Wine into the Palms of his Hands, and to rub the same on his Temples, and under his Nostrils, they began to observe that he came to himself. A little after they forc'd him to take a little Brandy into his Mouth, which did him a great deal of Good; he recover'd his Spirits by degrees, and giving a deep Groan, O Heavens! _said he_, what a terrible Night have I had! I am not much oblig'd to you, Sir, _said he_, speaking to my Master, for putting me in a Place where Witches have their nocturnal Meeting. What means all this, reply'd my Master? Have you had any troublesome Dreams? we drank a little hard last Night, which perhaps you are not us'd to, so that this may have disturb'd your Brain, and started disagreeable Objects to your Fancy: But come, get up, it will signify nothing, only be of Courage, a good Dinner will set all to Rights. You must not, reply'd he, lay the Blame either on the Wine or on my Brain; 'twas no Imagination nor Dream, I a.s.sure you I was in my right Senses when the Devil appear'd to me. He stay'd about two Hours in my Room, and actually lay sometime upon my Bed. But, Sir, said my Master, who began to smell a Rat, what Shape did the Devil a.s.sume? He appear'd in the Shape of a Man, reply'd the Bashaw, and notwithstanding the little Light that glimmer'd in at the Windows, I observ'd, that he was all over ragged, that he had a sorrowful Countenance, thin Jaws, _&c_. Don't say a Word more, said my Patron, interrupting him, I am troubled at this Accident.

I am sorry to say it, but I must tell you, that the Man you saw is my Son; and having given Orders that he shou'd be brought, the Bashaw was in amaze the very Moment he saw him. I can't deny, said he, but that's the very Man I saw last Night, who put my Brains so much upon the Rack. He talk'd in such a manner as made the Fool almost burst with Laughter, and gave him an Opportunity to tell him with his own Mouth the Prank that he had play'd. This anger'd the Bashaw, so that he ask'd if no body was appointed to look after him, and some body answering in the Affirmative, he desir'd to see him. Immediately I was sent for, and when I came before him, Is it you, _said he_, you Dog, that is set over this young Gentleman to take care of him? Yes, Sir, _said I_. And what's the Reason then that you let him loose last Night?

_reply'd he_. He was not ty'd, _said I_. He had been well for some Days past, so that I have not kept so strict a Watch upon him as usual, but have ventur'd to take my Rest by him. During this he made an Excursion, and came to alarm you, as I am told, at which I am really concern'd to the last degree, and I ask your Pardon, promising you it shall be so no more. No more, you cursed Dog, _reply'd he_, I believe it won't, at least with respect to me, for I shall never recover it. I have a great Respect for those that you belong to; but 'tis well for you that I am not able to rise; for perhaps I should have been very outragious, and you might have run the risque to have had your Head broke.

Get out of my Sight, you Wretch, and pray to G.o.d, that I may not happen to meet you. Then addressing his Speech to my Master, If you would oblige me, Sir, said he, you will dismiss this Scoundrel upon the Spot, that I mayn't hear his Name mention'd any more. I had not been many Months in this Castle, during which the other Domestics did not owe me any Grudges, and my Master had a very great Respect for me, because of the Care I took of his Son, who really gave me a great deal of Trouble. Yet for all this the good Man was oblig'd in Complaisance to turn me away.

I was carry'd into the City to be sold to the first Bidder; there I learnt that the head Footman I mention'd ere now was dead, so that I sent to ask my old Master, or Patron, whether he wou'd please to admit me into his Service. He was overjoy'd to have me again, and I as glad to live again with a Person who had all the Regard imaginable for me while I dwelt with him. About three Weeks after, Monsieur the _Bashaw_, accompany'd with a fine Retinue came to see our Yard. I knew him when he was a hundred Paces off. His Threats had made such an Impression on my Mind, that I ran away with all the speed I cou'd. He did not know it was I, because the next Day, after the Vision, when he was recover'd of the Fright and his Pa.s.sion entirely over, he ask'd what was become of me; and when he was told that I was gone, he seem'd to be sorry at it, order'd me to be sent for immediately, because he desir'd to speak with me, with an a.s.surance upon his Word and Honour that he wou'd not hurt a Hair of my Head.

Notwithstanding this, I trembled when I went to him, which he observ'd and burst out into Laughter, which he did no doubt to hearten me. He ask'd me several indifferent Questions, to which I answer'd with all the Submission possible. At length he ask'd me, whether, in case my present Master was willing to part with me, I shou'd not be very glad to return and live with the Gentleman whose Service I had so lately quitted upon his Account? Having made him sensible that I cou'd not act as I pleas'd in that Affair, I cou'd make him no Answer but that I was perfectly well where I was. Keep then in that Mind, said he, 'tis to be sure as agreeable to be in the Company of People of Sense, as to be eternally taking care of a Lunatic; and having given me Money to drink his Health, he sent me about my Business.

This little Adventure was not the only one that happen'd to me during my Slavery, but the others were of such small Moment that I pa.s.s them over in Silence. As to the Disputes to which I was often subject, so far as to be oblig'd sometimes to proceed to Blows, the Detail of them wou'd take up too much of the Readers Time and Patience. The _Turks_ are generally ignorant, and I cou'd hear nothing from 'em but cold Railleries against our crucify'd Jesus, which I bore with Patience; because on the one hand, they don't believe in Christ; and on the other, they were upon their own Ground, and I had no Protection to hope for from any Body. But I had much ado to contain my self when I was attack'd by Christian Renegadoes.

Among others there was a _Gascon_ Disputant, who was really the boldest Atheist or Deist that I ever saw. He was perfectly good-natur'd; but when he was in a rallying Mood, he turn'd every thing into Ridicule, and confounded our greatest Mysteries with the Whimsies of the _Jewish_ Talmud and the Legends of the _Romish_ Church. My Father, said he, was a.s.sa.s.sinated one Day as he was going in Pilgrimage to our Lady of _Loretto_: A fine Reward this for so good a Catholick as he was! My Mother who professed the _Romish_ Religion was dragoon'd and murder'd for her obstinate Disobedience to the Orders of the Court. And I my self in my Voyage from _France_ to _Holland_, was taken by Pirates, so that in avoiding Persecution I fell into Slavery.

As I found him a young Man not only of great Wit and Learning, but also of a vast deal of Good-nature, (for all that knew him there mightily extoll'd his beneficent and friendly Temper) I very much pity'd him, and endeavour'd several times to reclaim him from his dangerous Sentiments with respect to Religion. We had frequent Conversations upon that Head, and I had great Hopes that in time I might be able to set him in the right Road of Truth; but an unhappy Accident shorten'd his Days before Heaven permitted me to perfect this charitable Work. It wou'd be too tedious to mention all the Disputes we had together, so that I shall but just glance over some of the chief Points.

When I reproach'd him with changing his Religion and professing the Mahometan, which by the way he did not believe a t.i.ttle of, he made me Answer that after a due Examination of the several Religious that had come to his Knowledge, he found nothing in any one of 'em that cou'd satisfy a rational Man, and that therefore he saw nothing which ought to hinder a wise Man from conforming at least externally to the prevailing Religion of the Country where he dwells, just as People accustom themselves to the Habits and Manners of a Country for fear of being thought ridiculous by appearing singular. And because I am like to gain more Confidence and Esteem among the People of this Country by conforming to their way of Wors.h.i.+p, I shou'd be a great Simpleton, said he, if I depriv'd my self of that Advantage by a silly Attachment to another, which is a hundred times more impertinent and absurd. I answer'd him, that I was extremely surpriz'd to hear a Man talk at that rate who had been educated in the Christian Religion, and by his Profession ought to know it the better for having throughly study'd it. 'Tis for that very reason, reply'd he, my Friend, that I speak thus of it, because I have well examin'd it and have discover'd its Folly and Ridicule. But tho' you are so old, 'tis probable you have not yet shaken off the Yoke of the Prejudices of Education, and that you implicitly adhere to what you learnt from your Nurse or your Chaplain without farther Inquiry. I told him, that I had travell'd and seen more of the World than he thought, and that I had heard the Arguments of People of various Sentiments in the Article of Religion, but that I had never met with any System which was so worthy of G.o.d, so agreeable to Man, and which had so many Marks of Truth as the Christian Religion. That my Profession had not permitted me in my Youth to study religious Controversies so throughly as he had, but that nevertheless, I wou'd undertake to defend against all his Attacks the princ.i.p.al Truths of Christian Religion; as the Existence of a G.o.d; the Creation of the World; the Immortality of the Soul; the Fall of Man; the Redemption of Mankind by Jesus Christ; the Truth and Divinity of the sacred Scriptures, on which all the rest is founded; and the Necessity--

Hold, said he, there's enough, and if you can defend those Articles, I'll agree to any that you shall please to add. We will begin at the last, if you please, and so go back to the first.

You know very well, said he, that Christians are not all of one Opinion with regard to the Inspiration of the Holy Scriptures.

Some think the whole inspir'd even to the least Word; others reject this Opinion, and only maintain in the general, that with regard to the Matter, the Holy-Spirit so far guided the Writers of those sacred Books, that they cou'd not commit any Error in the Facts which they relate, nor in the Doctrine which they teach. Pray tell me which of these two Opinions you pretend to embrace?

I am not for the first, said I, and I think a Man must be quite void of Sense to maintain it, if he has read the holy Books with ever so little Attention. But as to the latter, it is supported by convincing Arguments. Not to insist upon the great Antiquity of the first Books of the Holy Scripture, which you will own to me, however, to be the oldest Monuments in the World, and which were written before the Art of Writing was known to other Nations; the marvellous Things which are contain'd in those Scriptures, the Miracles which G.o.d wrought to confirm the Revelation, and the Predictions of the holy Prophets of which we have seen a great part accomplish'd, and wait for the fulfilling of the rest, are Things which surpa.s.s all that Man can do, and which none but G.o.d can be the Author of.

You are in the right, said he, not to insist upon the Antiquity of your sacred Books, because it wou'd not be of any Advantage to you. For a Romance, or an Imposture, may be as ancient and more ancient than a true History, this is nothing to the purpose.

Nevertheless, I am very far from admitting those Books to be so old as you pretend, and I defy you or any body, to prove that any of those Books was in being before the time of _Esdras_, that is to say, above a thousand Years after _Moses_, who according to you wrote the first Books. And if we attentively read the Books ascrib'd to _Moses_, we shall find a great many Pa.s.sages which shew that they were written long after his Time. He quoted several which I pa.s.s over in Silence to avoid being tedious. Then as to your Argument, said he, which is founded upon the miraculous Things contain'd in the Scriptures, I draw a Conclusion from it quite contrary to yours. For the more a Book contains of what is marvellous and extraordinary, the more 'tis liable to Suspicion. This is the Supposition you your self wou'd form of any other Book, and if you don't think so of this, 'tis only the Effect: of your Prepossession which is very palpable, because it inclines you to admit such Evidence to prove the Truth of a Book as wou'd, if you were not prejudic'd in your Judgment, serve for the effectual Destruction of its Credit. As to the Miracles you talk of, they are only written in that Book of which you wou'd have them brought as Proofs, and therefore, as I have already said, they must tend rather to explode it. Every indifferent unprejudic'd Person receives a Relation or History of past Transactions only according to the Degrees of Probability with which it is attended, and judges it to be false or romantick by the marvellous or extraordinary Facts which it contains; for Nature was always the same at all times, and Truth was ever plain and natural. As to the Proprieties you mention'd, all the Accomplishments which are related in the same Book with the Predictions, prove nothing but that they are part of the same Romance, and were forg'd at the same time; and as for those which are pretended to have happen'd since, the Events have so little Connection with the Predictions of which they are construed to be the Accomplishment, that nothing but the Force of Prejudice can discover their Conformity. He quoted a great number of Instances to me to support what he had said, but I choose not to mention them here.

Moreover, said he, if you were well acquainted with the History of the Canon of those sacred Writings, not only of the Old Testament which you derive from the _Jews_, an ignorant superst.i.tious People as ever liv'd, who were not agreed neither as to the Truth and Authority of every part of it, but also of the New Testament as it is now admitted among the generality of Christians, you wou'd find so much Ignorance, Superst.i.tion, Uncertainty and Perplexity in it, that you your self wou'd be asham'd of it. Thereupon he enter'd into the History of the Canon, and of the Manner how, and Time when it was form'd; and he talk'd to me of the Factions and Disputes among the Members of the Council of _Laodicea_, and some others, with regard to the several Gospels, Acts, Epistles, _&c_. which the several Churches or Societies of Christians had receiv'd for true, exclusive of others; of the Difficulties and Perplexities on that Head, and how some rejected what others receiv'd, together with the Reasons urg'd on both sides, insomuch that I was astonish'd to find what a Treasure of curious Things he had stor'd up in his Memory.

I reply'd, That _Moses_ was in possession of the Credit of having written the _Pentateuch_, and that to destroy this there must be Proofs brought, not meer a.s.sertions. I put him in mind that _Ezra_ (whom he seem'd to think the Author of it) was not able, if we may judge by that undoubted Piece of His, to have compos'd what pa.s.ses under _Moses_'s Name: and that, if he were able, yet it was next to impossible for Him to have made the whole _Jewish_ Nation believe (as they appear constantly to have done) that what he wrote, had been in being all along before the Captivity. I said that the miraculous Facts recorded in them did not, in my Judgment, take off from their Probability because they are all ascribed to a Divine Power, and are mention'd as serving some great End and Purpose: and that as to the Prophesies, some of those in _Isaiah_ and _Daniel_ are so visibly connected with the Accomplishment in _Jesus_, that a Man must be blind (I thought) not to discover their Conformity. I was going on to defend the Authority of the Books of the New Testament, and began to observe, That, notwithstanding any Disputes in the Council of _Laodicea_, or any other Council, yet from the Beginning some of our Gospels and Epistles had been receiv'd as of Divine Authority; and that Christianity, as to the main of it, would stand firm, if all the Pieces which had ever been doubted of by any Number of Christians, were thrown quite out of the Inquiry.

Upon this he turn'd the Discourse, and said, What Notion can you have of G.o.d, who according to you is the Sovereign Lord of the whole Universe, and can dispose of all its Parts as he pleaseth; if you believe that in order to explain his Will to Mankind, he was under a Necessity of imploying obscure, ignorant, or enthusiastical Persons to write Books, or prophesy, or preach in a remote Corner of the Earth, and to a Herd of ignorant People, without making it known to the learned and polite Nations? Do you think that was the right Method to make all Mankind sensible of so necessary a Thing as the Will of G.o.d? Has not he who created and dispos'd of every thing according to his good Pleasure, and without any Possibility of being hinder'd in it, has he not put all Things in the Condition he at first design'd them? And is not that his Will which we call the Order, Course, or Voice of Nature? To support any other particular Will in that infinitely perfect Being, is to suppose Alteration and Imperfection which is contrary to his Nature. And to imagine that he communicates to some Persons, and conceals from many others the Rules to which he wou'd have all Men conform, is to suppose him guilty of an unjust Partiality unworthy of his divine Nature. Therefore it may surely be concluded, that whatever is call'd divine Revelation in one Country or another, is really nothing but an Imposture founded upon the Weakness of Mankind in general, and invented by such as seek to impose upon them from certain Views and Designs.

I made him answer, that if Man had continued in that State of Perfection wherein the Creator at first plac'd him, he wou'd not perhaps have needed a Revelation to serve as a Rule to his Actions, but since he lost that Happiness by his Fault, he is so corrupted and so p.r.o.ne to Wickedness, that he not only requires Revelation, but the special Grace of his Creator for--

Hold there, said he, I find you are going to tell me of the Fall of Man and all its Consequences, such as the Corruption of his Nature, Original Sin, the Redemption of Mankind, _&c_. This, if you please, shall be the Subject of our Conversation for the remainder of this Evening. Your Divines, said he, are much in the right to call those Mysteries the stumbling Block of humane Reason, for surely they are incomprehensible by Reason and good Sense. But before I enter into the particular Examination of these Articles, give me Leave to entertain you with a Fable which I had from an _Arabian_ Philosopher, who had been a great Traveller, and said he made it to give his Friends an Idea of the Mythology of a certain Nation that he had seen.

The Fable of the BEES.

There was formerly, said he, a great and potent King, Sovereign of one of the Islands in the Ocean, whose Power was such that no other King equall'd it, and all his Subjects were so submissive to him that they did whatever he requir'd, and his Will was so far the Rule of all their Actions that they cou'd not do otherwise. His Goodness was as great as his Power, and his Wisdom as great as both. In a word, he possess'd all Perfections in the highest Degree. This King found the said Island Desert, but he planted it, fill'd it with Inhabitants and Animals of all sorts, and caus'd it to be cultivated, so that it produc'd all Necessaries not only for the Sustenance, but for the Conveniency and Pleasure of all the Inhabitants.

The King's Palace was the greatest and most magnificent that can be imagin'd, and situate in the middle of the finest Gardens that were ever seen. This Monarch who perfectly understood every thing, form'd a Plan to himself of the finest Production of which Nature was capable, and then gave Orders it shou'd be executed, which was done upon the Spot; for such was the Extent of his Power, that all Things both animate and inanimate conform'd exactly to his Will and immediately submitted to his Law. There were also Parks, Meadows, and Woods all admirably fine, and full of all sorts of Animals, Birds, and Insects that cou'd be desir'd either for Use or Pleasure. I shou'd have a great many strange things to tell you, were I to enter into the Detail of every thing relating to all those Animals, _&c._ For this Reason I shall only tell you what I heard most remarkable concerning one single Species of Insects, _viz._ The Bees.

In this Island there was a mult.i.tude of Bees, and as the King's care was extended to every thing, he so order'd it that there were abundance of Flowers every where to nourish them. But in a Nook of one of the King's Flower-Gardens there was a particular sort of Flower, which he forbad the Bees to touch: Not that those Flowers were hurtful to the Bees, or that the Monarch valu'd them more than any of the other Flowers, but, as I was told, because he had a mind to try their Obedience. It happen'd not long after, that some of the Bees forgetting the Order, or not much regarding it, went and suck'd those Flowers. The King immediately perceiv'd it, and was so incens'd at it that; he resolv'd to drive all the Bees out of the Island, and even swore, so great was his Wrath, that he wou'd not spare one Bee. But some time after, when the Heat of his Indignation was abated, he regretted that he had pa.s.s'd so severe a Sentence and some remains of Pity for those poor Bees engag'd the Monarch, who was Goodness and Mercy it self, to find out some Expedient to bring them off.

The King had an only Son whom he lov'd infinitely more than all things in the World, and it was his Pleasure that this Son shou'd be the Mediator to make Peace between him and the Bees. But to the end that this Peace might be made in a manner consistent with the King's Dignity, and without wounding his Honour and his Justice, which were concern'd to maintain the Oath that he had sworn, there was a Necessity for this welbeloved Son to bear all the Pains due to the Bees, and that for this purpose he shou'd become a Bee himself. When this Metamorphosis was made, the Son went in the form of a Bee to one of the worst Hives in the whole Island, where he found it Labour in vain to advise the other Bees to be more circ.u.mspect and more observant of the King's Orders, for they laugh'd him to Scorn, abus'd him, and at last stung him to Death. And what was worse than all, at the same time he must bear the whole Weight of his Father's Wrath and Indignation, who was resolv'd to revenge the Fault of the Bees upon him. As soon as this Son was dead, he returned to his Father, and fell to interceding for the poor Bees, whose Debt he had paid, and for whose Crime he had suffer'd; which Mediation he still continues with so much Success, that the King has taken Companion of several of those Bees and forgiven them their Faults, provided they adhere strictly to his Son as many intire Bee-hives have already done. It does not appear that these Bees so favour'd make more Honey, or are more at Ease than the others, but the Reason of it is (as they are taught by certain Hornets who have introduc'd themselves in great numbers into all those Hives) that they will be more sensible of the Benefit that results to them from it after they are dead.

'Tis these Hornets that teach the Bees, which are inclin'd to hearken to them, all this Story, together with a mult.i.tude of Circ.u.mstances that are not so much as touch'd here. And in the several Hives, both the Story and Circ.u.mstances are so vary'd that some receive it one way, and others another, and some believe nothing at all of the matter. These latter are threaten'd by the Hornets with very severe Punishment after Death, whereas the Bees which follow their Advice will be sure then to receive great Rewards. When they are told, that 'tis plain that all Bees when they die, fall to the Ground and rot away either in Dust or Dirt, they gravely answer that 'tis only their Bodies that perish, but that their buzzing Part which is somewhat different from their Bodies, is to enjoy the Rewards or suffer the Punishments with which they have threaten'd 'em. For they make them believe that when a Bee which has follow'd the Advice of the Hornets, and given them the greatest part of his Honey, comes to die, his Buzz goes directly to the King's Palace and contributes to fill his great Hall of Audience with Musick, with which they say that Monarch is very much delighted. Whereas the buzzing Part of a Bee that acts after another manner, goes after its Death to a great Cave under Ground, where 'tis benumm'd with the Cold, and makes a very disagreeable Noise by reason of the infinite Torture it there suffers. There's a prodigious number of other such Chimeras, with which these Hornets are continually filling the Heads of the poor Bees; for as they are excus'd from working and live upon the Labour of the Bees, all they have to do is to invent something to terrify the Bees and keep them in a State of Dependance, in which they have succeeded so well, that we see abundance of these poor Insects so full of Apprehension of what may happen to their bulging Part after Death, that they cannot with Pleasure eat the Honey they have made, nor do any things as they shou'd for the support of their Lives. And when there happen to be any Bees which in Contempt of such Chimeras apply to their Work and turn a deaf Ear to the Hornets, they incense the other Bees against them, and generally kill them, or at least turn them out of their Hives as dangerous and seditious Creatures. It often happens that when the Hornets are at Variance with one another, all the Bees of a Hive take part with one Side or other, and being animated by the Hornets they fall upon one another with so much Fury, that we generally find half of the Bees of a Hive kill'd, because they had not the same Conception of the Chimeras of the Hornets as the others had. Sometimes too those Hornets engage whole Bee-hives to make War against other Bee-hives, so that frequently we see several thousands kill'd on both Sides, only for supporting the Chimeras of the Hornets of their own Sect against those of others. The Bees also expose themselves generally very cheerfully to this Slaughter, upon the a.s.surance given them by the Hornets of one Party as well as another, that they thereby do very great Service to the King who will take it well at their Hands, and admit their buzzing Part into his great Hall preferably to those of many others. For they pretend to know the Orders and Will of the King much better than the other Bees, because certain Hornets, say they, who liv'd several Ages before them, heard 'em from the King's own Lips, and transmitted 'em down to them, partly impress'd upon Wax, and partly by the Reports of their Predecessors. 'Tis upon this Foundation that the Hornets usurp so much Authority over the Bees throughout the whole Island (for there are Hornets which have insinuated themselves into almost all the Hives) and extend their Tyranny so far as to render those poor Insects perfectly miserable. They forbid them on certain Days to suck the Flowers, which they are permitted to do on others, and likewise prohibit their making Wax and Honey on certain other Days, because, say they, 'tis the King's Will and Pleasure.

After he had finish'd his impertinent Fable, I told him, that I saw the End of it very plainly, but that it only prov'd how Men of Wit could turn any thing into Ridicule: I shew'd him that the Comparison fail'd in almost every Circ.u.mstance; particularly I observ'd, That tho' the eating of the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge was forbidden to _Adam_ upon a severe Penalty, yet when he had eaten of it, G.o.d is represented in Scripture as so far from being in Wrath, and from Swearing not to spare any of the Human Race; (as the Fable wou'd insinuate), that the Sentence p.r.o.nounced was softned with the Promise of a Saviour, under the t.i.tle of the _Seed of the Woman_: I told him, that the buzzing Part of the Bee does by no means answer to the Soul of Man: that if Christians maintained, that the speaking Part of Man had gone to Heaven or h.e.l.l after his Decease, there would have been some Justness in the Fable: but that the Fact (as he well knew) was quite otherwise. I shew'd him, that the Distinction of Soul and Body was not peculiar to the Christian Religion, but common to all other Religions, and was believ'd in Countries where no Revelation had reach'd. I was going on in this Strain, but it was then too late, and it was high time to part and go to bed: and I had no other Opportunity of talking with him again on these important Subjects; for some time after, this poor Man and another carrying along a great Beam upon their Shoulders, he fell down, by which his Head was so bruis'd that he dy'd before he had time for Repentance, which I look'd upon as a just Punishment from Heaven, because he had made such an ill Use of his Wit and Learning.

I had been fourteen or fifteen Years at _Sercelli_, when it happen'd, one Day as I was at work in refitting a s.h.i.+p, I discover'd a Hole towards the Middle, two Foot from the Keel: I was oblig'd in order to make my Work good and lasting, to go down into the s.h.i.+p's Hold, where, as I was removing the great Flints and Gravel, which serve to ballast the s.h.i.+p, I discover'd a Bundle bigger than my two Fists. The out-side Wrapper was a Callico Handkerchief, in which there was a Boot Hose of Silk, and in that Boot Hose, a blue Sock, in which there was a Purse with three hundred eighty five good Guineas. My first Care was to conceal my Treasure in a sure Place, where no Body wou'd go and look for it, and notwithstanding my Heart was full of Joy, I took great care not to make the least Discovery that I was a Penny richer than before.

About six Months after this, the _English_ Consul at _Algier_, having Business at our Town, and caming with two other young Gentlemen to see if we had any s.h.i.+ps upon the Stocks, one of my Comrades happen'd just at that time to call out to me to lend him a helping Hand to remove a Mast he was then at work upon, when Mr. _Elliot_, who heard me call'd by the Name of _Ma.s.sey_, came up to me and ask'd me _What Countryman I was_? I told him.

There's a good Friend of mine, said he, a Silkman at _London_, who is your Countryman, and his Name is _John Ma.s.sey_. I know very well, said I, that I left a Brother of that Name behind me, six Years younger than me, but it being now fifty Years ago, and having not heard from my Family ever since, nor they probably from me, 'tis impossible I can be certain whether that's the Man.

What you now say, reply'd the Consul, makes me believe you are Brothers, for my Friend can't be less than sixty Years of Age, and he has often talk'd to me of a Brother that he very much lamented, who he suppos'd had been a long time dead. Thereupon I was forc'd to tell him in a few Words, by what Misfortune I became a Slave in _Africa_, and he made an Offer to write to my Brother, to desire him to find out some Expedient to procure my Deliverance in my old Age. I then declar'd to him in Confidence that I had Money. If so, said he, I'll find Ways and Means to set you at Liberty, but you must not make any shew of your Substance; Leave every thing; to my Management, and don't you meddle or make. Farewel. I kiss'd his Hand, and recommended myself to his Favour.

About a Month after, my Master, to my very great Surprize, call'd me to him, and taking me by the Hand, said, I am overjoy'd, Friend, that you are going to return to your own Country. Mr.

_Elliot_ has bargain'd with me for your Ransom. Go to _Algier_ and meet him. I wish you a good Voyage. At these Words I embrac'd him, and thank'd him for his Civilities, and the Regard he had always shewn to me from the very first Day of my Arrival. We both shed Tears at parting as if we had been Brothers. From thence I went to take Leave of my Comrades, and then set out for _Algier_, where the Consul receiv'd me with extraordinary Courtesy. I told him down thirty five Guineas, which, he said; he was to pay for my Liberty, but had it not been for his Credit and my Age, such a trifling Sum wou'd not have, set me free.

CHAP. XVI.

_Continuation of the Adventures of_ Peter Hudde _who is mention'd in the second Chapter; and the Author's Arrival at_ London.

I stay'd above a Month at _Algier_ before I embark'd for _London_, during which it happen'd that a _Turkish_ Pirate brought a _French_ Galley into _Algier_. Mr. _Elliot_ immediately obtain'd a List of her Crew in order to see whether there was not the Name of some Person that he knew, or of some Countryman of his in the Number of her Slaves. He caus'd it to be read in my Presence, and seem'd astonish'd to find the Name of a Man there whom he was very intimate with at _London_. I was as much surpriz'd at the Name of _Peter Hudde_, which he observ'd, and ask'd me the Reason. To satisfy his Curiosity, I gave him an Account of him, after which we went together to the Place where the Galley-Slaves were confin'd. As soon as we arriv'd there, we both inquir'd for our Men. His Friend had been wounded in Battle, and expir'd not above a Quarter of an Hour before we came: The other came in an Instant. Is your Name _Peter Hudde_? said I, Yes, said he; Did I never see you at _Lisbon_, continued I; That might be, said he, but it must have been a great while ago then.

That's true, said I, for it was, if I am not mistaken, so long ago as 1643 or 1644. There was one _Van d.y.k.e_ at that Time, a Factor, did you know him? You turn pale, but you are in no Danger here; tho' indeed it must be confess'd that you play'd him a scurvy Trick. I cannot deny it, said the Galley-Slave, I was the Man that robb'd him of the Sum of 300 Ducats; for which enormous Sin and others that I have committed, I beg G.o.d to forgive me. I have smarted sufficiently for it in this World, but I hope he will be merciful to me in the next. That's speaking like a Christian, _said I_, and 'tis a Happiness for you that Providence does you the Favour to put you upon Repentance of your Crimes. But pray tell me, why and when you were condemn'd to the Gallies. The Remembrance of it, Sir, _said he_, makes me tremble, and I wish you would excuse me from so unpleasant a Narrative which can only tend to renew my Sorrow. We commended him for the good Disposition of his Mind, and then I insisted upon my Demand, in which I was seconded by the Consul. Well then, Gentlemen, _said he_, I will satisfy you, as well to give you Proofs of my Obedience, as to acknowledge the just Punishment of my Crimes.