The adventures of Telemachus, the son of Ulysses translated from the French.

THE ADVENTURES OF TELEMACHUS The Son of ULYSSES. PART. III. (Book 3)

WHen Mentor had thus spoken he made up towards the Pi∣lians, and Nestor (who by that time begun to know who he was) ad∣vanc'd

to meet and salute him. Oh! Mentor, said he to him, 'tis now a long time since I first saw you in Phocis; but tho' you were at that time but fifteen Years of Age, yet even then I foresaw you would be as wise as you have prov'd to be in your riper Years. Pray, acquaint me what strange Adventure brought you hither? And what Expedient you design to propose in order to prevent this War which Idome∣neus has brought upon himself? We are all for Peace; 'twas our common Interest to desire it, but we could no longer live secure with him; he has broke his most solemn Promises with his next Neighbours; he has shewn to all the rest his am∣bitious Design of bringing them un∣der Slavery, and has left us no other Means to defend our Liberty, than the using our utmost Endeavours to over-throw his new Kingdom. However, if you can find a way to remove our just Fears, and settle a

firm and lasting Peace, all those Na∣tions whom you see here assembled, will gladly lay down their Arms, and confess that you surpass us in Wisdom.

Mentor answer'd: Wise Nestor, you know Ulysses committed his Son Telemachus to my Charge; this young Man, impatient to know what was become of his Father, went first to Pylos, where you gave him all the kind Entertainment he could expect from one of his Fa∣ther's constant Friends, and then order'd your Son to conduct him in his Travels through your Country; He afterwards undertook great Voy∣ages; he saw Sicily, AEgypt, and the Isles of Cyprus and Crete; at last the Winds, or rather the Gods, cast him on this Shore, as he endeavour'd to return to Ithaca, and we came here in time to prevent the horrors of a cruel War; 'tis not Idomeneus, but the Son of Ulysses and my Self, who will answer for the Performance of

all Promises that shall be made to you.

While Mentor was thus discoursing with Nestor, in the middle of the confederate Troops, Idomeneus and Telemachus, with all the Cretans in Arms, kept their Eyes fixt on them from the top of the Walls of Sa∣lenta; they observ'd with great At∣tention how Mentor's Proposals would be receiv'd, and wish'd they might have heard the wise Speeches of those two venerable old Men. Nestor ever had the Reputation of the most Prudent, and most Elo∣quent of all the Grecian Princes: 'Twas he, who during the Siege of Troy, allay'd and check'd the Passion of fierce Achilles; the haughty Am∣bition of Agamemnon; the Pride of Ajax, and the boisterous Courage of Diomedes; soft Persuasion flow'd from his Lips like a stream of Milk and Honey; all those Heroes were attentive to his Voice, and were si∣lent assoon as he begun to speak:

He alone knew how to appease fierce Discord in the Camp, and tho he began to feel the Infirmities of feeble old Age, yet his Words were still full of Strength and Sweetness. He related Things past in order to in∣struct Youth by his consummate Experience, and tho' he was slow of Speech, yet he had a most grace∣ful way of telling a Story. This old Man, admir'd by all Greece, seem'd to lose all his Majesty and Eloquence assoon as Mentor appear'd with him; he look'd decay'd and over-born by Years, whereas Age seem'd to bear Respect to Mentor's strong and vigorous Constitution. The Speech of Mentor, tho plain and grave, carried with it an Air of Authority which Nestor's Words begun to want; whatever he spoke was Concise, Pithy, Nervous and to the Purpose; he never us'd vain Repetitions, nor related any thing foreign to the Point in Question. If he was oblig'd to speak often of

the same thing, in order to inculcate it, or to perswade others, he did it with a new Turn, and enforcing Similes; and accompanied the whole with kind and complaisant Expressi∣ons, adapted to the Wants of others, and fit to insinuate the Truth of what he said. Those two venerable Men yielded a very moving Sight to so many assembled Nations; and while the confederate Army that be∣sieged Salenta, crowded to see them at close view, and endeavour'd to hear their wise Speeches, Idomeneus and those about him, with greedy and attentive Looks strove to disco∣ver what their Gestures and Coun∣tenance meant. In the mean time Telemachus, full of Impatience, steals away from that Multitude of People that surrounded him, and running to the Gate through which Mentor was gone out, commands it to be open'd with an Air of Authority. Soon after Idomeneus, who thought he was still by his Side, wonder'd

to see him running cross the Fields, and making towards Nestor. Nestor knew him again, and hastned, tho with slow Steps, to receive him. Telemachus presently flew to embrace him, and hugg'd him a long time without speaking a Word; at last he cry'd out: Oh! Father, for I scruple not to call you so, since my Misfortune of not finding my true Father, and the Kindnesses I have receiv'd from you, entitle me to use that endearing Name. My Father, my dear Father, how blest am I to see you! And oh! That I might see Ulysses also! Yet if any thing could alleviate my Sorrow in being de∣priv'd of him, 'tis certainly the finding in you another Self. At these Words Nestor was not able to forbear Weeping, and he felt a se∣cret Joy when he perceiv'd those Tears, which, with a wonderful Grace, trickled down Telemaehus's Cheeks. The Beauty, Gentleness, and noble Assurance of this unknown

Youth, who without any Precau∣tion, went through so many Ene∣mies, struck all the Allies with Astonishment. Is not this, said they, the Son of that old Man who came to speak with Nestor? Yes, without doubt; for they have both the same Wisdom, tho with the different Characters of Age; in the one she does but begin to Blossom, whereas in the other she bears a plentiful Harvest of ripe Fruits. Mentor who saw with Pleasure, with what a tender Affection Nestor had receiv'd Telemachus, made use of that happy Disposition. This is, said he to him, the Son of Ulysses, so dear to all Greece, and to your self. Oh! Wise Nestor, I deliver him up to you as the best and surest Hostage for Idomeneus's Promises. You may easily imagine that I should be loath if the lose of the Son should follow that of the Father, and that the wretched and disconsolate Pe∣nelope should reproach Mentor with

having sacrific'd her Son to the Am∣bition of the new King of Salenta. With this Surety, who offers him∣self of his own accord, and whom the Gods, who are lovers of Peace, have sent to you, I begin to offer to all these assembled Nations, such Proposals as will establish for ever a solid and lasting Peace.

At this Word of Peace, a con∣fused Noise began to spread from Rank to Rank; all those different Nations murmur'd with Anger and Indignation, thinking so much time lost, while they delay'd Fighting, and that all those Speeches tended only to allay their Fury, and rob them of their Prey. Among the rest, the Manducians bore with great impatience, that Idomeneus should ever be in a condition to deceive them again. Therefore they osten attempted to interrupt Mentor, for they fear'd lest his wise Discourse should slacken their Allies; nay, they began to grow Jealous of all

the Grecians who were in the Assem∣bly. Mentor perceiving this, made it his Business to fortify their Jea∣lousy, the better to divide the Minds of those different Nations.

I confess, said he, that the Man∣ducians have just reason to complain, and to demand reparation for the Wrongs they have suffer'd; but at the same time, it is not reasonable that the Grecians, who make up the best govern'd Colonies, should be suspected and odious to the Natives. On the contrary, the Grecians ought to be united together, and make themselves respected by others; the only Thing they must observe, is to be contented with what they enjoy, and never to encroach upon their Neighbour's Territories. I know Idomeneus has been so unhappy as to create Jealousies among you, but 'twill be an easie matter to remove all your Suspicions. Telemachus and my Self will become your Hostages: We'll answer for Idomeneus's Fide∣lity,

and will remain in your pow∣er till he has faithfully perform'd all his Promises to you. You are pro∣vok'd, Oh! Manducians, because the Cretan Troops have made themselves Masters of your Mountains by sur∣prize, and that by that means they are able to make Incursions when∣ever they please into the Country, whither you did retire, to leave them the open Country near the Sea-shore. Upon the whole Mat∣ter, those narrow Passages which the Cretans have Fortified with high Towers full of armed Men, are the true occasion of this War. Pray, answer me, can you alledge any other? Thereupon the chief of the Manducians advanc'd and thus spoke.

What Means have we not us'd to avoid this War? The Gods them∣selves can Witness that we renounc'd Peace, only because it was no longer in our Power to live in Peace, through the stiring Ambition of the Cretans, and the impossibility of trusting to

their Oaths again; a senseless Na∣tion, who drove us to the hard ne∣cessity of running all Hazards, and seeking our safety in their Ruin; as long as they keep those narrow Pas∣sages, we shall ever be afraid of their Designs of incroaching upon our Lands, and bringing us under subjection. Had they no other Thoughts than to live in Peace with their Neighbours, they would be contented with what we yielded up to them of our own accord, and would not desire to keep an Entrance into a Country upon which they have no ambitious Design. You are little acquainted with them, oh! wise old Man, but it has been our Misfortune to know them too, too well. Cease, cease for the future, oh! thou beloved by the Gods, cease to put a stop to a just and necessary War, without which a constant Peace can never be settled in Hespe∣ria. Oh! Ungrateful, treacherous, and cruel Nation, whom the angry

Gods have sent among us to trouble our Repose, and punish us for our Faults. Yet after you have punish'd us, Oh great Gods! You will re∣venge us too, neither will you be less just to our Enemies than to our selves.

At these Words all the Assembly was in an Uproar: It seem'd as if Mars and Bellona went from Rank to Rank to kindle in every one's Breast the raging fury of War, which Men∣tor endeavour'd to quench. Where∣upon Mentor thus resum'd his Dis∣course: Had I nothing but Promises to make to you, you might chuse whether you would accept or reject them; but what I offer is real and certain. If you are not contented to have Telemachus and my self for Ho∣stages, I will cause Twelve of the most noble and valiant Cretans to be deliver'd up to you. But at the same time it is but just that you should give us Hostages also: For tho' Idomeneus have a sincere desire

for Peace, yet he desires it without Fear or Weakness; he seeks Peace just as you seem to desire it, out of Wisdom and Moderation, and not out of a fond Love for a soft and effeminate Life, nor out of fear at the impending Dangers of War. He is ready either to Conquer or to Die, but he prefers Peace to the most glorious Victory; he would be asham'd of being overcome, but he fears the being unjust, and is not ashamed to make amends for what he has done amiss. Tho he offers Peace with Sword in Hand, he would not be thought to impose its Conditions with Imperiousness; for he sets no value upon a forc'd Friend∣ship. He would have a Peace, wherein all Parties concern'd may find their mutual Satisfaction; a Peace that may remove all Jealou∣sies, stifle all Feuds and Resentments, and reconcile all Distrusts. In a Word, Idomeneus has all the Senti∣ments which, I am sure, you desire

he should have; my chief Business now is to persuade you of his real Intentions, which I may do with ease, if you will but hear me with animpartial and unprejudiced Mind. Hear me, Oh! Warlike People; and you, Oh! Wise and united Captains, hear what I offer to you from Idomeneus: As it not just that he should have a free Entrance into his Neighbours's Territories, so it were unreasonable that he should be expos'd to the Inroads of his Neigh∣bours; therefore he consents that those Streights which he has fortifi∣ed with high Towers, may be guarded by Troops that shall stand neuter. You Nestor, and you Phi∣loctetes, are born Grecians, yet upon this occasion you declar'd against Idomeneus, and so cannot be suspected of being too favourable to his side. You are mov'd and animated by the common Interest of the repose and liberty of Hesperia, and therefore 'tis fit you should be the Trustees

and Keepers of those narrow Pas∣sages which have occasion'd this War. You are as much concern'd in hindering the old Inhabitants of Hesperia from destroying Salenta, which is a new Greek Colony, like one of those you have founded, as in hindering Idomeneus from en∣croaching upon his Neighbours. You ought to keep an equal Ballance be∣twixt both Parties; and instead of destroying with Fire and Sword, a People whom you ought to Love, reserve to your selves the Honour of being Judges and Mediators. I know you would like these Propo∣sals, if you could be sure of the Per∣formance on Idomeneus's part; as to this, I will give you full Satisfacti∣on: For the security of both Parties, there will be those Hostages I men∣tion'd before, till all the narrow Passes be deposited into your Hands. Now when the safety of all Hesperia, and even that of Salenta and Idomeneus shall lie at your Mer∣cy,

will you not then be contented? Of whom can you be afraid, unless it be of your own selves? You dare not trust Idomeneus; and yet Idome∣neus is so free from any design of de∣ceiving you, that he is willing to trust you. Yes, he will commit to your Charge both the Repose, Lives and Liberty of all his People and himself. If it be true that you on∣ly desire an honourable and lasting Peace, how can you now reject her, when she courts you to embrace her? Once more do not think that 'tis Fear that forces Idomeneus to of∣fer you these Proposals; no, 'tis Wisdom and Justice which engage him to take these Measures, without reguarding whether you impute to his Weakness what is the effect of his Virtue. In his first attempts he is to blame, and he glories in ac∣knowledging his Faults by obviate∣ing your Demands. 'Tis Weak∣ness, 'tis ridiculous Vanity, 'tis ab∣solute Ignorance of a Man's own In∣terest,

to hope to conceal his Faults, by endeavouring to maintain 'em by a fierce Haughtiness. He who owns his Faults to his Enemy, and who offers to repair 'em, shews by that, that he is become uncapable of committing 'em; and an Enemy cannot be too fearful of so wise and so firm a Conduct, at least if he does not make Peace: Besure you take good heed, that in his turn, he does do you no Injury. If you slight Peace and Justice, which now offer themselves to you, Peace and Ju∣stice will take their Revenge. Ido∣meneus, who ought to have fear'd that he shou'd have found the Gods provok'd against him, will now find 'em on his side against you. Telemachus and my self will Fight for the true Cause; and I call all the Gods both Celestial and Infer∣nal to witness the Justice of those Proposals that I have now made to you.

At these words Mentor rais'd his Arm on high to shew to that great multitude of People the Olive∣Branch, the Signal of Peace, which he had in his Hand. The Com∣manders, who nearly beheld him, were dazl'd with the divine Light that sparkl'd in his Eyes; he ap∣pear'd with such an Authority, and so awful a Majesty, as is never seen in the greatest and most illustrious among Mortals. The Charm of his soft, yet powerful Words, stole away their Hearts: They were like those enchanting Words, which in the deep silence of the Night, do in a moment stop the Motion of the Moon and Stars, calm the raging Seas, hush the Winds and the Waves, and stay the Course of the most rapid Streams. Mentor seem'd in the middle of these furious Peo∣ple, like Bacchus when he was sur∣rounded by Tygres, which forget∣ing their fierceness, by the power of his sweet Words, came and lick'd

his Feet, and own'd their Subje∣ction by their fawning. All this while there remain'd a profound si∣lence thro' all the Army: The Com∣manders stood gazing on one ano∣ther, and durst not oppose this sin∣gle Man, nor imagin who he was. All the Troops stood motionless with their Eyes fix'd on him, and durst not make the least noise, lest he should have something more to say, which that might hinder, tho' they could not imagin that any thing could be added to what he had said: His Discourse seem'd short, and they wish'd he had spoken longer. All he had said, remain'd as it were Engraven in their Hearts; his Speech made him be lov'd; his Speech made him believ'd; every one was greedily attentive both with their Ears and Eyes, to catch the least Syllable that came out of his Mouth.

After a pretty long silence, a kind of a soft noise began to spread it self

by little and little on every side, not like the confus'd noise of Peo∣ple that begin their Anger with harsh Whispers; but on the contra∣ry, it was a kind and gentle Mur∣mur. Every one's Face appear'd with a pleasant Serenity and a de∣lightful Softness. The Manducians, so highly enrag'd, let their Wea∣pons fall out of their Hands. The rugged Phalantus, and the Lacede∣monians, were amaz'd to find their Hearts so softned; and the rest be∣gan to look for that haypy Peace which lately was in view. Phi∣loctetes, whom his own Misfortunes had made more sensible than the rest, could not restrain his Wars. Nestor not being able to speak for the transport into which this Dis∣course had thrown him, tenderly embrac'd Mentor, being wholly in∣capable of uttering one Syllable; and all the People at once, as if it had been a Signal, cry'd out, Oh, wonderous wise old Man! You a∣lone

have disarm'd us; Peace, Peace, 'tis Peace we wish for. Presently after this, Nestor would have har∣rangu'd 'em; but the Troops were impatient, and fear'd that he would only start some difficulty: Once a∣gain, they cry'd out, Peace! Peace! And they were no way to be silenc'd, but by obliging all the Officers of the Army to cry out with them for Peace. Nestor perceiving that he had not then the liberty to make a regular Discourse, was contented only to say; You see, Mentor, what the word of a good Man can do: When Wisdom and Virtue speak, they still all the Passions; our just Resentments turn into Friendship, and desires of a lasting Peace. We accept the Peace you offer us; at which all the Commanders held up their Hands in sign of Agreement. Mentor hasted to the City-Gate to cause it to be open'd, and to speak to Idomeneus to come out of the Ci∣ty without any Precaution. Mean

while Nestor embrac'd Telemachus with these words; Thou aimable Son of the wisest of all the Greeks, can you be wiser and happier than He! Have you learn'd nothing of his Fate? The Memory of your Fa∣ther, whom you so much resemble, has help'd to extinguish our Rage. Phalantus, tho' hard and severe, tho' he has never seen Ulysses, can't but be concern'd for his and his Son's Misfortunes. Here Telemachus was press'd to recount his Adventures, till Mentor return'd with Idomeneus and all the Cretan Youths which at∣tended him. At the sight of Idomene∣us, the Allies felt their Animosity re∣kindled, but Mentor's words stifl'd this Fire, just ready to break out. Why do we delay, said he, the Confirma∣tion of this sacred Alliance, of which the Gods will be both Witnesses and Guarantees? May they avenge it, if any impious Wretch dare to violate it; and may all the horrible Plagues of War (not involving the Faithful

and Innocent) fall on the perjur'd and execrable Head of that ambiti∣ous Man who shall break the holy Sanctions of this Alliance! May he be hated of Gods and Men! May he never reap the Fruit of his Per∣fidy! May the infernal Furies, in the most hideous Forms, appear and encrease his Rage and Despair! May he be struck dead without any hope of Burial! May his Body be a Prey to Dogs and Vulturs! May he be in the deep Abyss of Hell for ever, more severely tormented than Tan∣talus, lxion, or the Danaids! But no; rather may this Peace be as firm as the Mountain of Atlas, that sup∣ports the Heavens! May all these People preserve and enjoy the Fruits of it from Generation to Generation! May the Names of those who shall swear to it be ever mention'd with Love and Reverence, by the last of of our Race! May this Peace, found∣ed upon Justice and Integrity, be the Pattern of every Peace hereafter

to be made among all the Nations of the Universe! And may all the People who would make themselves happy by re-uniting, take Example by those of Hesperia!

At these words, Idomeneus and the other Kings swore to maintain the Peace on the fore-mention'd Arti∣cles. Hostages were given on each side, and Telemachus would needs be one of the Hostages for Idomenus; but Mentor cou'd not be one of that Number, because the Allies desir'd he should continue with Idomeneus, to give an account of his Conduct, and of that of his Counsellors, till the intire execution of the Articles sworn to. An hundred Heifers as white as Snow were sacrific'd be∣tween the Enemy's Camp and the Town, together with as many white Bulls whose Horns were gilt and adorn'd with Garlands. The fright∣ful Bellowings of the Sacrifices that fell under the sacred Knife, resound∣ed over all the neighbouring Moun∣tains;

the reaking Gore stream'd on all sides; a great abundance of the richest Wine was pour'd out for the Libations; the Aruspices con∣sulted the Entrails yet panting. In these Sacrifices was burn'd on the Altar an Incense that ascended like a large Cloud, whose Odour per∣fum'd the whole Country. While the Soldiers on both sides throwing off the unkind Aspects of Enemies, began to entertain one another with their Adventures, and already had left off their Labour, and by de∣grees tasted the sweetness of Peace: Many of those who had follow'd Idomeneus to the Siege of Troy, knew those who belong'd to Nestor which had been engag'd with them in the same War, and very kindly embrac∣ing each other, mutually related what had befall'n 'em, after they had ruin'd that lofty City, the Or∣nament and Glory of all Asia: And now they lay down on the Grass, crown'd with Flowers, drinking

Wine together that was sent 'em out of the Town in large Vessels, to celebrate so happy a day.

Then said Mentor to the Kings; O ye Captains, assembled under se∣veral Names and several Leaders, you shall now be but one People: For thus the just Gods, Lovers of Mankind, have decreed the eternal Tie of their Concord. The entire human Race is but one large Fami∣ly dispers'd over the Face of the whole Earth: All Men are Bro∣thers to each other, and ought to love as such. Curs'd are those wick∣ed Men who seek a cruel Glory in the Blood of their Brethren, which is, indeed, their own. 'Tis true, War is sometimes necessary; but it is a shame to Humanity, that it is inevitable on some occasions. Oh Princes! think not that it ought to be desir'd for the acquisition of Glo∣ry! True Glory is not to be found void of Humanity; whoever pre∣fers his own particular Glory to

the Sentiments of Humanity, is a Monster of Pride and no Man, and can never obtain any other than a false Glory: For true Glory consists only in Moderation and Goodness. He may be flatter'd, indeed, to sa∣tisfie his foolish Vanity; but if Men went to speak their real Opinion of him in private, it ought justly to be said, That he has so much the lefs deserv'd Glory, as he has sought it with an unjust Passion: Men ought not to esteem him, because he has so little valu'd Men, and has been so prodigal of their Blood thro' a brutish Vanity. Happy's that King who loves his People, and is belov'd by them; who dare trust his Neigh∣bours, and who is trusted by them; who, far from making War against them, prevents any War between them, and gives occasion to all Fo∣reign Nations to wish themselves as happy as his Subjects in having him for their King! Resolve then to meet from time to time, O ye Prin∣ces

of the powerful Cities of Hespe∣ria, and hold a general Assembly once every three Years, where all the Kings here present shall concur to continue this Alliance by a new Oath, to confirm this promis'd Friendship, and to concert all your common Interests. As long as you are united, you will enjoy at home in this fine Country both Peace, Honour and Plenty; abroad you will ever be invincible. 'Tis only Discord, the Daughter of Hell, that torments poor distracted Mortals, that has Power to interrupt the Hap∣piness the Gods do design you. Ne∣stor reply'd, You see by the readi∣ness with which we make Peace, how far we are from making War thro' any Vain-glory, or by the un∣just greediness of advancing our selves by the depression of our Neigh∣bours; but what can we do when we find our selves near a violent Prince, who knows no Law but his Interest, and who takes all occasions

to invade the Territories of other States? Think not that I speak of Idomeneus: No; I have no longer such a Thought of him: 'Tis Adra∣stus King of the Daunians from whom we ought to fear all Mis∣chiess: He contemns the Gods, and thinks that all Men upon the Face of the Earth were born only to promote his Glory by their Slavery: He will have no Subject of whom he may be both King and Father: He must have Slaves and Adorers, and will be worship'd as a God. Hitherto the blind Goddess, Fortune, has favour'd his unjust Enterprizes: We hasted to attack Salanta to de∣feat the weakest of our Enemies, who only began to establish himself on this side, at last to turn our Forces against that other more pow∣erful Enemy: He has already taken several Towns from our Allies: He has defeated the Cretonians in two Battels, using all Means whatever to satisfie his Ambition; Force and

Cunning are alike to him, so he can but weaken his Enemies: He has heap'd up a great mass of Treasure, and his Troops are disciplin'd and inur'd to War; his Commanders are Experienc'd; he is well obey'd, watching himself continually over all those who act by his Order; he punishes the least Faults with Seve∣rity, and largely rewards the good Services done him; his Valour su∣stains and animates the Courage of all his Troops, and he wou'd be an accomplish'd King if Justice and Ho∣nesty guided his Actions: But he neither fears the Gods nor the Checks of his Conscience; nor does he va∣lue Fame it self, but looks on it as a vain Phantom, which can affect none but poor spirited Men; he esteems nothing as a real and solid Good, but the advantage of possessing great Riches, to be fear'd and to prostrate all Mankind at his Feet. Shortly you'l find his Army upon our Con∣fines, and if the union of so many

People do not enable us to resist him, we have certainly lost all hopes of Liberty. 'Tis therefore the Interest of Idomenus as well as ours to oppose this haughty Man, who can suffer nothing free in his Neighbourhood. If we had been overcome, Salenta wou'd have been threaten'd with the same Misfortune. Let us make haste then all together to prevent it.

Whilst Nestor spoke thus, they advanc'd toward the Town: For Idomeneus had invited all the Kings and principal Commanders to enter and pass the Night there: 'Mean while all the Army of the Allies set up their Tents, and all the Field was already cover'd with rich Pa∣villions of all sorts of Colours, where∣in the weary'd Hesperians expected refreshing Sleep. When the Kings and their Retinue were enter'd the City, they were amaz'd to see, how in so little a time so many magnifi∣cent Structures cou'd be rais'd; and that the hurry of so great a War had

not hinder'd this growing City from encreasing, and from being beauty∣fied all at once.

They admir'd the wisdom and vigilance of Idomeneus, who had founded so brave a Kingdom, and every one concluded that having made Peace with him, the Allies wou'd be very powersul, if he en∣ter'd into a League with them against the Dauneans. It was therefore pro∣pos'd to Idomeneus to joyn with them in it, who cou'd not reject so just a Proposal, promising'em assistance: But as Mentor was not ignorant of any thing that is necessary that may make a State flourish, he was assur'd that the Forces of Idomeneus cou'd not be so great as they seem'd, where∣fore, taking him apart, he thus spoke to him.

You see our care has not been al∣together unprofitable to you: Salen∣ta is guarded from the Misfortune that threaten'd it: 'Tis now only in your power to raise its Glory high as the Heavens, and to equal the

Wisdom of your Gransire in the Go∣vernment of your People. I pro∣ceed to speak freely to you, believing you wou'd have me do so, and that you hate all manner of Flattery. Whilst these Kings were praising your Magnificence, I was thinking to my self on the Rashness of your Conduct: — At this word Rash∣ness Idomeneus chang'd Countenance; his Eyes look'd wildly, he colour'd and was going to interrupt Mentor, who said to him in a modest and re∣spectful Tone, but free and bold; I see plainly this word Rashness choaks you, and confess, any one but my self wou'd hardly have us'd it; for we ought to respect Kings and humour their nicety, especially when we reprove'em: Truth alone is enough to offend 'em, without adding rough Expressions; but I was in hopes that you cou'd have permitted me to have spoken to you without Lenitives, to let you see your Errour: My Design has been to accustom you to understand how

to call Things by their Names, and to perceive, that when others give you their Advice upon your Con∣duct, they never dare tell you all that they Think; and, if you wou'd not be deceiv'd in it, you shou'd al∣ways apprehend more than they will say to you, of what relates to your disadvantage. For my part, I shall willingly soften my Words accord∣ing to your Business. At these Words Idomeneus, who by this time had recover'd of his passionate Dis∣order, seem'd asham'd of his Nicety: You see, said he to Mentor, what the Custom of being Flatter'd does. I desire the welfare of my Kingdom, and there is no Truth, how ungrate∣ful soever, but what I shall think my self happy to hear from your Mouth: But pity a Monarch, whom Flattery had poyson'd, and who even in his Misfortunes cou'd not, find a Man brave enough to tell him the Truth. No, I have never found any Body who has lov'd me so well as to displease me in telling me the

whole Truth. Here the Tears stood in his Eyes, and he tenderly embrac'd Mentor. Then said the old wise Man, 'tis with Grief that I see my self constrain'd to tell you some hard Things; but can I betray you in tel∣ling you the Truth? I suppose your self in my Place; if you have hither∣to been deceiv'd, 'twas because you were very willing to be so; 'twas this made you fear to be advis'd. Have you sought for the most disin∣teress'd People, and who were most likely to contradict you? Have you made it your Business to choose Men the least found to please you? The most unbiass'd in their Conduct, and the most capable to condemn your unjust Sentiments and Passions? When you have found Flatterers, have you discarded 'em? Have you distrusted your self? No, no; you have not done as those do who love Truth, and who deserve to know it. Let us see if you will hencefor∣ward have the Courage to act bet∣ter, and to suffer your self to be

humbl'd by the Truth that con∣demns you. I said, that what ac∣quires you so great praise, deserves to be blam'd. While you had so many Enemies abroad, who threat∣en'd your Kingdom, yet but ill esta∣blish'd, you thought on nothing within your new City, but to raise stately Buildings in it: 'Tis this has caus'd you so many restless Nights, as you your self have own'd to me. You have consum'd your Wealth; you neither thought of encreasing your People, nor of Cultivating the fertil Lands of this side. Shou'd you not have look'd upon these two Things as the two essential Founda∣tions of your Power? To have a great number of able Men, and Lands well Cultivated to Feed 'em? There ought to have been a long Peace in these beginnings to favour the encrease of your People. You shou'd have thought of nothing but Husbandry, and the establishment of the most wise Laws. A vain Am∣bition has push'd you on to the very

brink of a Precipice; and by labour∣ing to appear Great, you had like to have ruin'd your true Greatness. Make hast now to repair these Faults; Leave off all your great Works; throw off all Pride which wou'd ruin your new City: Let your People take their Ease, and ap∣ply your self to settle 'em in Plenty, to facilitate their Marriages. For, know that you are no longer a King than you have a People to govern; and that you shou'd not measure your Power by the extent of the Lands you possess, but by the num∣ber of Men, who inhabit 'em, and who are bound to obey you: Make choice of good Ground, tho but in∣different in extent, and fill it with a numerous People, Laborious and Disciplin'd; endeavour to be lov'd by these People, and then you will be more Powerful, more Happy, and more Glorious than all the Con∣querors who lay wast so many King∣doms.

How shall I deport my self then, said Idomeneus, to these Kings? Shall I own my Weakness to them? 'Tis true, I have neglected Husban∣dry and Commerce too, which is so convenient for me in these Parts, having thought on nothing but to build me a stately City. Must I, my dear Mentor, dishonour my self before so many Kings, and discover my want of Power? If I must, I will without any scruple, whatever it costs me: For you have taught me that a true King, who is made for his People, and who owes him∣self wholly to them, ought to pre∣fer the welfare of his Kingdom to his own Reputation. This Senti∣ment, reply'd Mentor, becomes a Father of the People; 'tis by this Goodness, and not by the magnifi∣cence of your City, that I percieve the Soul of a true King in you: But your Honour must be maintain'd as well for the Interest of your King∣dom: That shall be my Province, I will therefore go tell these Kings,

that you have engag'd your self to re-establish Ulysses, if he be yet Liv∣ing, or at least his Son, to Ithaca; and that you will drive thence by force all the Lovers of Penelope. They must needs consider that this War will require a grcat number of Troops, and so they will agree that you can afford 'em but small sup∣plies against the Daunians.

At these Words Idomeneus ap∣pear'd like a Man eas'd of a Burthen not to be born. My dear Friend, said he to Mentor, you will thus save my Honour, and the Reputation of this growing City, whose Weakness you will hide from all my Neigh∣bours: But what probability is there that I will send forces to Ithaca, to re-establish Ulysses there, or at least his Son Telemachus, since Telemachus himself is engag'd to go to the War against the Daunians? Don't trouble your self, Sir, replied Mentor, I'll tell 'em nothing but Truth: The Vessels that you send to establish your Trade, shall go to the Coast of

Epirus, which will do two Things at one time; one in recalling the foreign Merchants, whom too great Imposts do estrange from Salenta, to your Coast; and t'other in in∣quiring News of Ulysses; who, if he be yet alive, can't be far from those Seas that part Greece and Italy; and it is certainly reported that he was seen among the Pheocians: But, if there be no hope of seeing him again, your Fleet will however do a signal Piece of Service to his Son; for they will spread thro' Ithaca, and all the neighbouring Countries, a terrour of the Name of young Tele∣machus, who was thought to be dead as well as his Father: The Lovers of Penelope will be astonish'd to hear that he is ready to return with the Succours of a powerful Al∣lie; The Ithacans will not dare to shake off the Yoke; Penelope will be comforted, and will ever refuse to make choice of a Husband. Thus you will serve Telemachus whil'st he is in your place, with the Allies on

this Coast of Italy against the Dau∣nians. At these words, Idomeneus cry'd out, Happy's the King who is supported by wise Counsels! A wise and faithful Friend, is more worth to a King than victorious Armies. But doubly bless'd is the King who is sensible of his Happi∣ness, and knows how to profit him∣self by the use of wise Counsels: For often it happens, that wise and honest Men, whose Virtue is fear'd, are far remov'd from his trust, that he may give an ear to Flatterers, whose Treason is never fear'd. I am my self fall'n into this Error, and I will relate to you all the Misfortunes that have befall'n me by a false Friend, who flatter'd my Passions, in hopes, that in return, I would flatter his.

Mentor easily made the Confede∣rate Kings understand that Idome∣neus ought to take care of the Af∣fairs of Telemachus, whilest that young Prince went with them. They were very well satisfy'd that

they had in their Army the Young Son of Ulysses, and an hundred of the Cretan Youth, whom Idomeneus gave him to accompany him; they were the Flower of the young No∣bility which the King brought a∣long with him from Crete. 'Twas Mentor who advis'd him to send 'em to this War. You must take care, said he, to increase the People dur∣ing this Peace; but lest all the Na∣tion should grow soft and effemi∣nate, and be ignorant of the Art of War; you must send the young Nobility to the Wars abroad, who will be sufficient to set the whole Kingdom on an Emulation of Glo∣ry, or the Love of Arms, on the Contempt of Fatigues, and of Death it self; in short, on the Experience of the Military Art.

The Confederate Kings left Sa∣lenta, very well satisfy'd with King Idomeneus, and charm'd with the Wisdom of Mentor. They were very glad that they had got Telema∣chus along with 'em; who could not

master his Grief when he was to part with his Friend. Whilest the Consederat Kings took their leaves, and swore to Idomeneus that they would keep an eternal Alliance with him, Mentor holding Telemachus lock'd in his Arms, felt himself be∣dew'd with that young Prince's Tears. I am insensible, said Tele∣machus, of the Joy that I am going in quest of Glory, nothing now fills my Soul but the Grief that I must part from you. Methinks I see again that unfortunate time when the Egyptains snatch'd me from between your Arms, and carry'd me away from you without giving me the least hope of seeing you any more. Men∣tor return'd an answer to these words, sweet and obliging, the bet∣ter whereby to comfort him: This, said he, is a Separation far differ∣ent, this is voluntary and will be short; you go to seek Victory. My Son, you should love me less ten∣derly and with a more manly Love. Accustom your self to my absence;

you will not always have me with you: Wisdom and Virtue rather than the Presence of Mentor, should inspire you with what you ought to do. Saying this, the Goddess, con∣ceal'd under the Person of Mentor, cover'd Telemachus with her Eyes, and breath'd into him the Spirit of Wisdom and Foresight, undaunted Valour and a sweet Moderation, which are so rarely found together. Go, said Mentor, into the midst of the greatest Dangers as often as it is convenient you should go. A Prince dishonours himself much more in shunning the Dangers of War, than in never going to 'em at all. The Courage of him who commands others, ought never to be doubtful. If it be necessary that a People should preserve their Ge∣neral and King, it is the more ne∣cessary to 'em not to see him in an uncertain Reputation of Valour. Remember, that he who Com∣mands, ought to be a Pattern to all the rest; and his Example ought to

encourage the whole Army. Ex∣pose your self then, O Telemachus, and perish in the Combate rather than expose your self to the Malice of those who could doubt your Courage! But, on the other hand, seek not for Dangers without ad∣vantage; for Valour can no longer be a Virtue than it is guided by Pru∣dence; otherwise it is a mad con∣tempt of Life and a brutish Heat. Desperate Valour is ever uncertain. He who does not command himself in Dangers, is rather Wild than Brave; 'tis necessary that he should be beside himself to put himself a∣bove Fear; because he can't sur∣mount it by the natural Situation of his Heart: In this Case, if he does not fly, at least he is troubl'd that he loses the freedom of his Mind, which would be necessary to him in using opportunities to rout the E∣nemy, or to serve his Country; if he has all the Fire of a Soldiet, he has nor the Discretion of a Captain; and yet more, he has not the true

Courage of a private Soldier; for a Soldier ought to preserve a Presence of Mind in the Fight, and a Mode∣ration necessary to Obedience. He who rashly exposes himself, disturbs the order and discipline of Troops; gives an Example of Rashness, and often exposes the whole Army to great Misfortunes: Those who pre∣fer their vain Ambition to the safety of the common Cause, deserve Pu∣nishments, not Rewards. Take good heed then, my dear Son! not to seek Glory with too much impa∣tience! The true Means to find it, is quietly to wait a favourable Op∣portunity: Virtue causes her self the more to be fear'd, by how much she appears more plain, more mo∣dest, and more an Enemy to all Pride. 'Tis by degrees that the ne∣cessity of being expos'd to Danger is encreas'd, and that new Succours of Foresight and Courage are requi∣site, which always go together. For other Matters, remember that you ought never to draw on you the

Envy of any Body. On t'other side, be not jealous of the success of o∣thers; be sure first to praise whatso∣ever merits any thing of Praise; but praise with discretion, repeating the Good with Pleasure; and think no more of it but with Sorrow. Ben't positive before the old Command∣ers, who have gain'd by Experience that which 'tis impossible you should have; harken to 'em with Defer∣ence; consult 'em; desire the most able to instruct you, and be not a∣sham'd to own how far you have improv'd by their Instructions: In short, never give ear to Discourses by which your Distrust or Jealousie may be rais'd against the other chief Officers; but speak to 'em with frankness and ingenuity: If you think they have not born themselves well to you, open your Heart to 'em, and explain all your Reasons to 'em: If they are capable of under∣standing the Generosity of this Con∣duct, you will charm 'em, and you will draw from 'em all that you

have occasion to expect: On the contrary, if they have not sense e∣nough to apprehend your meaning, you will be inform'd by your self how unjust they are, and how to suffer it; and will thence take your Measures to trust 'em no more as long as the War lasts, and thus will have nothing to accuse your self of: But, above all things, never tell any Flatterers, who sow Division, the occasions of Complaints which you believe you have against the Com∣manders of the Army to which you belong.

I will stay here, continu'd Men∣tor, to help Idomeneus in his Busi∣ness, to labour for the Happiness of his People. I will stay for you, O my dear Telemachus! Remember, that those who fear the Gods have nothing to fear from Men! You will be present to your self in the greatest Dangers; but know! that Minerva will never forsake you.

At these words Telemachus thought that he saw the Goddess her self;

and he had certainly known that 'twas she who spoke to him, to in∣spire him with Bravery, if the God∣dess had not re-call'd the Idea of Mentor; saying, Forget not, my Son, the unweary'd Care I have ta∣ken of you in your Infancy, that you might be as wise and valorous as your Father; do nothing there∣fore unworthy his great Example, and of the Principles of Virtue with which I have endeavour'd to inspire you!

The Sun was already risen, and gilded the Tops of the Mountains, when the King came out of Salenta to re-join the Troops. These Troops encamp'd round the City, began to March under their Commanders; on every side were seen the bright Steel of bristling Pikes; the glitter∣ing Shields dazl'd their Eyes. A Cloud of Dust mounted up to the Skies. Idomeneus and Mentor con∣ducted the Confederate Kings into the Camp, which was at a good distance from the Walls of the Ci∣ty.

At last they parted, after ha∣ving given the Marks of a true Friendship on each side. The Al∣lies no longer doubted that the Peace would last, now they knew the sincerity of the Mind of Idome∣neus, which was represented to 'em very different from what it was; for he was Judg'd of, not by his own natural Inclinations, but by the Flat∣teries and unjust Counsels to which he had given himself over.

After the Army was gone, Ido∣meneus led Mentor into every part of the City, and the neighbouring Country; but Mentor would first see his Naval Forces. Let us (said he) number your Vessels; let us take an exact account of their Bur∣then, and how many Saylers you have to Man 'em, either to main∣tain a War, or to carry on the Trade of your Subjects, by which your Power is to be measured. Then he went to see the Port, and aboard every Vessel, informing himself of the Country, where each

of 'em went to Traffick; what Merchandise it carried, what Goods they took in return; what was the Charge of the Ship during the time she was at Sea; the Loans that the Merchants made one to another; the Companies they set up among themselves, to see if they were e∣quitably and faithfully observed. Finally, the hazards of Ship-wreck, and other Mischances of Trade, in order to prevent the Ruin of Mer∣chants, who, out of a greedy desire of Gain, do often undertake more than they know how to manage. He ordain'd severe Punishments for all Bankrupts, because their Break∣ing is always owing to their Rash∣ness, if not to their Dishonesty: At the same time he made several Re∣gulations in order to prevent Bank∣rupts; and to that end he created Magistrates, to whom the Merchants were to give an Account of their Ef∣fects, Profits, Expences, and Ven∣tures. They were never suffered to venture another Man's Estate, nor

above half of their own. Moreo∣ver they carried on by Joint-stock, those Undertakings which they could not have managed singly; and the By-laws of their respective Com∣panies became inviolable, through the severe Punishments inflicted on the Infringers of the same. Besides, every one had full liberty of Tra∣ding, and instead of over∣charging them with Taxes and Duties, there was an Encouragement proposed to all Merchants that could engage a∣ny other Nation to trade to Salenta. By this means there was a general resort of People from all Parts; the Commerce of that City was like the flux and reflux of the Sea; Riches continually entred into it like rolling Waves, which are push'd forwards by those succeeding: All manner of Wares were freely Imported and Exported; whatever they brought in was good for something or other; and nothing was Exported that did not introduce other Riches in its Room. Justice alone reign'd in the

Port among so many different Na∣tions; upright Dealing, Honesty and Candour, from the tops of those high Towers, seem'd to invite all Merchants from the remotest Parts of the Universe. Every one of those Merchants, whether he came from the Eastern Shore, where the Sun rises each Day out of the Bosom of the watry Deep; or whether he came from that great Sea, where that radiant Planet, weary of its Course, extinguishes its Fires and goes to rest; every one, I say, li∣ved in Peace and Safety in Salenta, as if it had been his own Country. As for the inside of the City, Men∣tor view'd all Store-houses, Trades∣mens Shops, and publick Places; prohibited all Foreign Goods that might introduce Luxury and Effe∣minacy; and regulated the Apparel, Food, Houshold-stuff, State, and Ornament of Houses, according to the different Conditions and De∣grees: He forbad the making and wearing of all Ornaments of Gold

and Silver; and told Idomeneus, I know but one way to make your People moderate in their Expences, which is your own Example of Mo∣deration; 'tis requisite you should be distinguish'd by an outward shew of Majesty; but your Guards, and the chief Officers which are about you, will be a sufficient Mark of your Authority. Be contented to wear a Garment of super-fine Wool died in Purple; let the Chief Men of your State be clad of the same Wool, and that all the difference be in the Co∣lour; and a thin Embroidery of Gold on the Skirts of your Robe. Those different Colours will serve to distinguish the different Degrees, without the expensive help either of Gold, Silver, or Precious Stones. Regulate those Degrees by Birth and Extraction, and let those be plac'd in the first Rank, whose Descent is most Noble, Ancient, and Conspi∣cuous. Those, who by their Me∣rit shall be advanced to Places of Trust and Authority, will be con∣tented

to come after those Ancient and Illustrious Families, which for a long time have been in possessi∣on of Honour: And such, whose Ex∣traction is not so Noble as theirs, will easily give place to them, if so be you do not suffer them to forget themselves in a high and sudden Pre∣ferment, and bestow new Honours and Commendations on those who know how to be moderate in Pro∣sperity. That distinction which proceeds from a long continuation of Noble Ancestors, is the least ex∣posed to Envy; next to that, Vir∣tue must be excited and encourag'd, and Men will be ready to serve the State, provided you bestow Crowns and Statues upon great A∣ctions, which will be a Spring of Nobility for the Sons of those that have atchieved them. Persons of the first Rank, next to you, shall be clad in White, with a Gold and Silver Fringe on the lower Border of their Garment, and shall wear a Gold Ring on their Fingers. Those

of the second Rank, shall be clad in Blue, with a Silver Fringe and a Ring, but no Medal. The Third in Green without Fringe, but with a Medal. The Fourth in deep Yellow. The Fifth in a pale Red. The Sixth in Grisdelin. The Seventh who shall be the meanest of the Peo∣ple, in Yellow mixt with White. These are the Colours for the seven different Degrees of Free-men. The Slaves shall be clad in Dark-brown. Thus without any expence, every one's Condition shall be distinguish'd, and all those Arts shall be banish'd from Salenta, which serve only to keep up a vain Pomp, and foment Luxury. All the Artificers who are now employ'd about those pernici∣ous Arts, shall either betake them∣selves to necessary Arts, which are but few, to Merchandize, or to A∣griculture. It shall never be lawful to change either the Manufactory of Stuffs, or the Fashion of Cloaths; for 'tis a shameful Thing for Men destin'd to a serious and noble Life,

to spend their time in inventing af∣fected Ornaments; or to suffer their Wives, in whom those tristing A∣musements are less disgraceful, to be guilty of those Extravagancies.

Mentor, like a skilful Gardiner, who lops the useless Branches off the Trees, endeavoured to retrench vain Pomp and Luxury, which depraved good Manners, and to introduce a noble and frugal Plainness in every thing. He likewise regulated the ordinary Food both of Citizens and Slaves. What a shame, said he, it is for the most eminent Men to make their Grandeur to consist in Ragoos and Kickshaws, by which they effeminate their Minds, and continually impair the health of their Bodies? Whereas they ought to place their Happiness in Modera∣tion; in their Authority, which gives them an occasion of doing good to other men; and in the Fame and Reputation they acquire by their good Actions. Sobriety and Tem∣perance make the most ordinary

Food the most palatable; and with a vigorous Constitution of Body. procure the most constant Pleasures. Therefore let your Tables be fur∣nish'd with the best sort of Meats, drest without any Ragoos; for the provoking Mens Appetites beyond the regular craving of their Sto∣machs, is but a more refined Art of Poisoning: By that Idomeneus easi∣ly understood how ill he had done, in suffering the Inhabitants of his New City, to soften and corrupt their Manners, through the Violati∣on of the Laws of Minos about Sobri∣ety: But wise Mentor put him in mind, That the reviving of those ve∣ry Laws would signifie nothing, unless his own Example gave them that Vigour and Authority, which nothing else could procure them. Thereupon Idomeneus regulated his Table, and order'd that nothing should be served to him besides ex∣cellent Bread, delicious Wine of the growth of that Country, but in small quantities, with Meat plainly

drest, and such as he us'd to eat with the other Grecians at the Siege of Troy. No Person durst to com∣plain of a Law which the King im∣posed upon himself, and by that means every body retrench'd the profuseness of Dainties and Deli∣cacies, which they began to intro∣duce in their Meals.

Next to that, Mentor silenc'd soft and effeminate Musick, as tending to corrupt Youth; and likewise con∣demned Tavern-Musick, which ine∣briates the Mind no less than Wine it self, and is often the cause of Riot and Impudence in Men's Man∣ners. Thus he confin'd Musick to Festivals within the Temples, to celebrate the Praises of the Gods, and of those Hero's, who have left us Patterns of the most excellent Vir∣tues. Nor did he permit any of the great Ornaments of Architectures, such as Pillars, Pedestals, and Por∣tico's, to be us'd any where but in Temples. He made himself new Draughts of a plain and graceful

Architecture, whereby on a small piece of Ground one might build a pleasant and convenient House for a numerous Family, in such a man∣ner, that it was expos'd to a whol∣some Air; that its several Lodg∣ings were independent upon one an∣other; and that it might easily be kept in Order and Repair at a small charge. These different Draughts of Houses, according to the num∣ber of Persons in each Family, serv'd to embelish part of the City with little Expence, and to make it regular; whereas the other Part, which was already built up accord∣ing to the Caprice or Vanity of pri∣vate Persons, tho' more magnificent, was yet less pleasant and conveni∣ent.

Painting and Carving were Arts which Mentor did not think fit to be laid aside; however he allow'd but few Men in Salenta to profess 'em. He setled a publick School to teach those Arts, and appointed most skilful Masters to examin the

young Prentices. Those Arts, said he, which are not absolutely neces∣sary, ought not to admit of any thing that's mean or indifferent; and therefore no young Men should be suffer'd to learn them, but those whose promising Genius seems to tend to Perfection: As for others who are Born for less noble Arts, they will be usefully employ'd a∣bout the ordinary Occasions of the Commonwealth. The only thing, added he, wherein Carvers and Painters ought to be employ'd, is in preserving the Memory of great Men, and their noble Actions; and for that purpose, Representations and Memorials of what has been At∣chieved with an extraordinary In∣dustry, ought to be us'd in publick Buildings and Tombs. Moreover Mentor's Moderation and Frugality did not go so far, but that he al∣low'd these great Buildings design'd for Horse, or Chariot-Races, Wrest∣ling, Fights with Cestus, and all other Exercises, which render the

Body both more supple, active, and vigorous. He suppressd a vast number of Merchants and Shopkeepers, who sold figur'd Stuffs of remote Coun∣tries; Embroider'd Works of an ex∣cessive Price; Gold and Silver Vessels with embossed Figures of the Gods, Men, and Animals; and lastly refined Liquors and Perfumes. He order'd likewise that the Furniture of every House should be plain, strong, and lasting. Thus the Salentines who loudly complain'd of their Pover∣ty, began to be sensible how ma∣ny superfluous Riches they enjoy'd; but those were deceitful Riches, which made them really poor; and they only became truly Rich, as soon as they had the Resolution to dispossess themselves of them. 'Tis the best way, said they, to grow Rich, by despising such Rich∣es as exhaust the Nation, and the reducing all our Wants to the true and necessary occasions of Nature.

Mentor was diligent in viewing the Arcenals and publick Magazines,

to see that Arms and all other Things necessary in War were in Order. For, said he, we always must be in readiness to make War, the better to prevent the Misfortune of being first Attackt. Now hav∣ving found a great many Things wanting every where, he presently assembled Artificers to work Iron, Steel and Brass: You might have seen burning Furnaces, and Clouds of Fire and Smoak mounting on high like those substerranean Fires which are vomited up by Mount AEtna. The studdy Hammer resounded on the Anvil which groan'd under the repeated Strokes; the neighbouring Mountains and Sea-shore ecchoed to 'em; one would have thought him∣self to be in that famous Island where Vulcan cheers up his Cyclopes, and forges Thunderbolts for the Father of the Gods: And by a wise forecast all the Preparations for a War were making in a profound Peace. After∣wards Mentor went out of the City with Idomeneus, and found a great

Tract of fertile Lands lying waste and uncultivated; others were ma∣nur'd but by halves through the Ne∣gligence and Poverty of the Hus∣bandmen, who wanted more Hands, and bodily Strength to bring Agri∣culture to Perfection. Mentor be∣holding those desolate Fields, said to the King: This Land is willing to enrich the Inhabitants, but the Inhabitants are wanting to the Land, and to themselves. Let us therefore take all the useless Artificers who are in the City, and whose Trade tends only to debauch Manners, in order to make them till and manure these Plains and high Grounds. I own its a Misfortune that all those Men who have pra∣ctis'd Arts which require a seden∣tary Life, are not inur'd to hard La∣bour; but here is a Remedy for it: We must divide among them all the Lands void of Inhabitants, and call to their assistance some of the Neigh∣bouring People who will undertake the hardest Work under 'em, pro∣vided

they allow them a reasonable share in the Profits of the Lands they shall begin to Plow. Nay, in time they may enjoy a proportion of those Lands, and being thus incorporated with your People, provided they be laborious and submissive to the Laws, they will encrease your Pow∣er, and prove the best Subjects. Your City-Tradesmen, now trans∣planted into the Country, will train up their Children to Labour, and enure them to the Yoke of a rural Life, and in process of Time, all the Country round about shall be stock'd with strong, vigorous Men, addicted to Husbandry. Now you need not be sollicitous about the in∣crease of your People; for they will soon multiply to a Prodigy, if you encourage Matrimony, which you may do with great ease. Most Men have an Inclination to Marry, and 'tis generally Want that keeps them from it. If you do not over-charge 'em with Taxes, they will live at ease with their Wives and Families;

for the Earth is never ungrateful; She always yields Fruits to sustain those who cultivate her with Care and Diligence, and only denies her Benefits to those who refuse to be∣stow their Labour upon her. The more Children Husbandmen have, the richer they are, provided the Prince study not to make them Poor; for their Children, even from their tenderest Youth, begin to be a help to 'em; the youngest tend the Flocks while they are Feed∣ing; those of riper Years begin to drive the great Droves of Cattle; and the most aged guide the Plough∣handle with their Father: In the mean time the Mother and all her Family Dress a course Meal for her Husband, and her dear Children, against they come home spent with the Toil of the Day. She takes care to Milk her Cows, and Streams of sweet Liquor fill her cleanly Pails; she lights a great Fire, round which the innocent and peaceful Family divert themselves with Singing mer∣ry

Lays before they go to rest; she gets ready Cheese, Chesnuts, and Fruits that look as fresh as if new gather'd. In the mean time the Shepherd comes home with his Flute, and Sings to the Family such new Songs as he learnt in the Neigh∣bouring Villages. The Husband∣man comes in with his Plough, and goads along his wearied Oxen, which walk with slow Steps, and bending Necks. All the Hardships of La∣bour end with the Day: The kind Poppies which Morpheus, by the Command of the immortal Gods, scatters all over the Earth, quiet all black Thoughts, charm and lull Nature into a soft Enchantment, and every one falls asleep without fore∣casting the Labours of the next Day. Happy are those Men who live with∣out Ambition, Distrust, or Disguise, provided the Gods vouchsafe to give 'em a good King, who never di∣sturbs their innocent Joys. But what a horrid piece of Cruelty it is, the wresting from their Hands the

sweet Fruits of the Earth, which they owe to the Bounty of Nature, and the sweat of their Brows, only to gratifie the Pride and Ambition of one single Man! Nature alone, out of her fruitful Bosom is able to maintain an infinite number of thrif∣ty and laborious Men; but 'tis the Pride and luxurious Effeminacy of some Men who reduce so many others to the dreadful pressures of Poverty.

But what shall I do, said Idome∣neus, if those Men whom I disperse about a fruitful Country, neglect to Cultivate it? Follow, answer'd Mentor, a Method entirely opposite to that which is generally us'd by others. Greedy Princes, who have no Forecast, make it their Business to lay heavy Taxes on such among their Subjects, who are most Dili∣gent and Industrious in the improv∣ing of their Estates, because they think they can raise those Duties with more ease; and at the same time they favour and excuse those

whom Sloth and Idleness have Im∣poverisht. Invert that bad Method, which over-burdens the Good, en∣courages Vice, and introduces a su∣pine Negligence no less fatal to the King, than to the whole State. Impose Taxes, Fines, nay if need be, more rigorous Penalties on those who neglect the Culture of their Lands; just as you would inflict Punishments on those Soldiers who quit their Post in War: Grant Fa∣vours and Exemptions to such Fa∣milies as multiply; and augment in proportion the extent of their Pos∣sessions. By this means their Fa∣milies will soon encrease, and every Body will be encourag'd to Labour; nay, Husbandry being no longer at∣tended by so many Hardships, will be so far from being despis'd, that it will become Honourable; the Plough, now in esteem, shall be guided by those very Hands that gain'd Victories over the Enemies of the Country; and the Cultivat∣ing ones own Lands will be no less

creditable, during a happy Peace, than the securing of the same during the Troubles of War. All the Coun∣try will flourish and smile again; Ceres will be crown'd with golden Ears of Corn; Bacchus stamping the Grapes with his Feet, shall cause Streams of Wine more delicious than Nectar, to glide down the shelving Hills; the hollow Valleys shall ec∣cho to the rural Consorts of Shep∣herds, who along the grassy Banks of purling Brooks shall Sing to their Pipes, both their amorous Pains and Pleasures, whilst their Flocks danc∣ing to the Harmony, shall crop the Grass enamell'd with Flowers, se∣cure from the ravenous Wolves. Will it not be a great happiness for you, Oh! Idomeneus, to be the Spring of so many Blessings, and to make so many People live in soft re∣pose under the Shadow of your au∣spicious Name? Is not this Glory more affecting and more to be co∣veted, than that of laying the World waste, and spreading every where

(nay even at home, in the midst of one's Victories, as well as among the Vanquish'd abroad) Slaughter, Destruction, Horror, Conesternation, cruel Famine, and Despair? Oh! Happy the King, who is so belov'd of the Gods, and has so large a Soul as to undertake to make himself the Delight of his People, and shew to all Ages the charming and won∣derous Spectacle of his Reign! The whole Earth, instead of shunning his Power by Fights and Battles, would prostrate her self at his Feet, to beg him to Rule over her.

But, reply'd Idomeneus, when my People live thus in Peace and Plenty, Pleasures will soon corrupt them, and they will bend against me that very Power I have put in∣to their Hands. Fear not, said Mentor, any such Inconvenience: That's but a vain Pretence to flatter the Prodigality of those Princes, who over-charge their People with Taxes. Besides, there's a Remedy at hand: Those Laws we have made

for Husbandry, will inure them to a laborious Life; and even in Plen∣ty, they shall have only Necessaries, because we retrench all Arts which introduce Superfluities. Nay, that Plenty shall be lessen'd by the fre∣qent Marriages, and the great en∣crease of Families: For every Fa∣mily being grown Numerous, and possessing but a competent Portion of Land, shall be forc'd to bestow continual labour upon the Cul∣ture of it. 'Tis Effeminacy and Sloth which make the People inso∣lent and rebellious. They shall have Bread, I confess; and Bread in a∣bundance: But then they shall have nothing but Bread, and the Fruits of their own Land, gotten by the Sweat of their Brows. To keep your People within that just Mode∣ration, you must at this very time regulate the extent of Ground which every Family shall be allow'd to possess. You know we distributed all your People into seven Ranks, according to their different Condi∣tions:

Now you must not suffer any Family, of any Degree, to enjoy more Land than is absolutely neces∣sary for the Maintenance of those Persons who depend upon it. This being a standing inviolable Rule, the Nobles shall not be able to purchase from the Poor: All shall have Lands; but every one shall have but a small Share, and by that means shall be excited to Cultivate it well. If in long process of time Lands should grow short here, you might send Colonies abroad, which would encrease the Power of this State. Moreover, I think you ne∣ver ought to suffer Wine to be too plentiful in your Dominions; if they have planted too many Vines, command them to be destroy'd; for Wine is a main source of the great∣est Mischiefs among the People; it causes Diseases, Quarrels, Seditions, Idleness and Sloth, and Disorders in Families. Therefore let Wine be preserv'd as a kind of Remedy, or as a choice Liquor, to be emply'd

only in Sacrifices, or extraordinay Festivals; yet think not that you can bring so important a Rule into Practice, unless you recommend it by your own Example. Further∣more, you must cause the Laws of Minos, concerning the Education of Children, to be inviolably observ'd: To which purpose, publick Schools ought to be erected, where they may be taught to fear the Gods, to love their Country, to reverence the Laws, and to prefer Honour be∣fore Pleasures, and Life it self. You must appoint Magistrates to over∣see the Families and Manners of private Persons: Nay, over-see them your self, since you are King; that is, the Shepherd of the People, on∣ly to watch Night and day over your Flock. By that means you will prevent a thousand Crimes and Disorders; and what you cannot prevent, you ought to punish at first with great Severity; for 'tis a piece of Clemency, by early and exem∣plary Punishments, to stem the Tide

of Wickedness. A little Blood spill'd in time, saves the Lives of Thou∣sands, and makes a Prince fear'd without using Rigour too often. But what a detestable Maxim is it, to make one's Safety consist in the oppressing of the People? How bar∣barous is it, not to instruct them; not to lead them into the Path of Virtue; not to do any thing to get their Love; to drive them by Ter∣ror to Despair; and finally, to im∣pose this dreadful Necessity upon 'em, either never to breath in sweet Liberty, or to shake off a Tyrant's Yoke? What Name can one give to such a Government? Is this the Way that leads to Honour? Re∣member, that where ever the Com∣mand of the Prince is most absolute, there the Prince is least powerful. He takes all, consumes all, and en∣joys alone the whole State; but then the whole State is in a languishing Condition; the Country is unculti∣vated and desolate; the Cities de∣crease, and Trade decays every day.

The King, who cannot be a King by himself, and who is only so by his Subjects, annihilates himself by degrees, while he annihilates his People from whom both his Riches and Power are deriv'd; his King∣dom is exhausted of Mony and Men, and the loss of these is the greatest and the most irreparable. His despotick Power makes as many Slaves as he has Subjects; they all seem to adore him, whereas they only tremble at his dreadful Looks. But see what will happen at the least Revolution; this monstrous Power, scrued up to a violent Ex∣cess, can hold out no longer, she finds no Supplies in the Affections of the People, she has wearied and provok'd all the different Ranks of Men in his State, and by that means forces every Member of that Body to sigh with equal earnestness after a Change. At the very first blow which is made at her, the Idol is thrown down, and trampled under Foot: Contempt, Hatred, Fear,

Resentment, Distrust; in a word, all the Passions unite themselves a∣gainst so odious an Authority. The King, who during his vain Prospe∣rity, could find no Man that durst speak the Truth to him, shall not find in his Misfortune any one Man that will either excuse his Follies, or defend him against his Ene∣mies.

These and the like Discourses of Mentor, having prevail'd upon Ido∣meneus, he presently distributed the waste Lands among the useless Ar∣tificers, and put in execution what had been resolv'd before. And now the Fields which had long been o're-spread with Briars and Thorns, begin to promise plentiful Harvests, and Fruits till then unknown. The Earth opens her Bosom to receive the cutting Plow-share, and pre∣pares her Riches to recompence the Labour of the Husband-man. Hope revives and smiles on every side: You might see both in the Val∣lies, and on the Hills, numerous

Flocks of Sheep, skipping and bleet∣ing on the Grafs, and great Herds of larger Cattle, which make the high Mountains resound with their Bellowings. Those Flocks and Herds fatten in the Fields and Meadows; 'tis Mentor who has found the way to procure them, by advising Ido∣meneus to exchange with the neigh∣bouring Nations all the superfluous Things, which are now prohibited in Salenta, for those Sheep, Cows, and Oxen, which the Salentines wanted.

At the same time both the Cities and Villages round about were full of fine sprightly Youths, who for a long time had languish'd in Misery, and were afraid to marry lest they should aggravate their Woes: But when they saw that Idomeneus be∣gan to embrace Sentiments of Hu∣manity, and was willing to become their Father, they were no more afraid of Hunger, nor of the other Plagues with which Heaven afflicts Mankind. There were heard every

where great Shoutings for Joy; the Shepherds and Plow-men celebrated the Hymeneal Pleasures in their ru∣ral Songs; so that one would have thought, that the God Pan with a Chorus of Satrys, Fauns, and Nymphs danc'd to the soft sound of the Flute in the Shady Woods. All was peaceful and smiling; but 'twas a moderate Joy; and as those Pleasures serv'd obly to allay the Hardships of daily Labour, so they were more quick, and more sen∣sible. The Old Men surpriz'd to see what they did not so much as hope for, during the long series of their Years, wept through an excess of Joy mixt with Tenderness; and lifting up their trembling Hands towards Heaven: Bless, said they, Bless, Oh! great Jupiter! the King who resembles thee, and is the great∣est King thou ever madest. As he is born for the good of Mankind, return him all the good we receive from him. Our Great-grand-sons sprung from those happy Mar∣riages

which he encourages, shall be indebted to him, even for their ve∣ry Brith; and he will truly be the Father of all his Subjects. The young Men and Maidens who mar∣ried together, exprest their mutual Joys, in singing the Praises of him who was the Fountain of those Joys' every Mouth, every Heart were con∣tinually fill'd with his Praises. The sight of him was accounted a great Happiness; his absence a Misfor∣tune; and the losing of him, had been the Desolation of all Fami∣lies.

Thereupon Idomeneus confest to Mentor, that he never felt so trus and sensible a Pleasure, as that of being belov'd, and making so ma∣ny People happy. I could not, said he, have believ'd what I now see: I thought all the Greatness of Princes consisted only in making themselves to be fear'd; that the rest of Mankind were all made for them: And I look'd upon it as a meer Fable, whatever I had heard

of those Kings, who were the De∣light and Darlings of their People: I now find the Truth of it, but I must relate to you how, from my tenderest Infancy, my Mind was intoxicated with the Authority of Kings, which was the cause of all the Misfortunes of my Life.

Protesilaus, who is something older than my self, was, of all o∣thers, the young Man whom I lov'd most; his lively and bold Temper suited with my Inclinations; he insinuated himself into my Plea∣sures and Diversions; flatter'd all my Passions, and gave me a distrust of another young Man, whom I loved also, and whose Name was Philocles. This Philocles fear'd the Gods, and had a great Soul, but full of Moderation: He placed Greatness not in raising, but in con∣quering himself, and doing nothing that's Base and Ungenerous. He told me of my Faults with free∣dom; and even when he durst not speak to me, his very Looks, and

sed Countenance, gave me susfici∣ently to understand what he had a mind to reproach me with: I was well enough pleas'd at first with his Sincerity; and I often assur'd him, that I would ever hear him in Con∣fidence as long as I liv'd. To secure me against Flatteries, he told me all I ought to do, to tread in the Foot∣steps of Minos, and to make my Sub∣jects happy; his Wisdom was not so deep as yours, Oh Mento! but I now find by degrees, that his Maxims were good. The cunning Insinuations of Protesilaus, who was Jealous and full of Ambition, gave me a disgust for Philocles: Philocles being indifferent, and free from tow∣ring Thoughts, suffer'd the other to get the Ascendant, and contented himself with telling me the Truth, when I was willing to hear it; for 'twas my Good, and not my For∣tune that he sought. Protesilaus made me insensibly believe, that Philocles was a morose and proud Censurer of all my Actions; who

ask'd no Favours of me, because his Pride would not suffer him to be beholden to me; and that he courted the Reputation of one that is above all Honours that I was able to bestow. He added, that he spoke as freely about my Faults with other People, as he did with my self; that he gave sufficiently to understand, what a small Esteem he had for me; and that his lessening my Reputation, was a Design to o∣pen himself a Way to the Throne, by the shew of a rigid Virtue. At first I was unwilling to think, that Philocles design'd to usurp my Crown; for there is a certain Can∣dour and Ingenuity in true Virtue, which cannot be counterfeited, and which cannot be mistaken, if consi∣der'd with attention: Yet I begun to grow wary of Philocles's Obsti∣nacy in condemning my Weakness. The soft complaisance of Protesilaus, and his unexhausted Industry in in∣venting new Pleasures to entertain me, made me feel more impatiently

the Austerity of his Rival. In the mean time Protesilaus being vexed that I did not believe all he told me against Philocles, resolv'd to speak no more to me about him, and to use something stronger than all his Words to perswade me. Take no∣tice how he compleated his Trea∣chery. He advised me to give Phi∣locles the Command of the Ships which I sent out to attack those of Carpathia; and to induce me to it, he told me: You know my Com∣mendations cannot be suspected of Partiality: I own he has Courage, and understands the War; he will serve you best of any Man, and I easily forego my Resentments a∣gainst him, when your Service lies at stake. I was glad to find somuch Honesty and Justice in Protesilaus, whom I had entrusted with the Ad∣ministration of my Affairs of the greatest importance: I embrac'd him transported with Joy, and thought my self too happy, in ha∣ving reposed all my Confidence in a

Man, who seem'd to be so much a∣bove Passion and Interest. But a∣las! How much Princes are to be pitied! This Man knew me better than I do my self. He knew that Kings are generally distrustful, and unattentive: Distrustful by their continual experience of the Artifice of those corrupt Men that are about them; Unattentive, because they are hurried away by the Torrent of Pleasures, and us'd to have Men, whose Business it is to make Refle∣ctions and Observations for them, without being at the trouble of it themselves. Therefore Protesilaus easily understood that it would be no hard matter for him to make me jealous of a Man who would un∣doubtedly perform great Actions, e∣specially while his Absence gave him so fair an Opportunity of un∣dermining him.

Before Philocles put to Sea, he foresaw what was like to befall him. Remember, said he to me, that it shall be no longer in my Power to

justify my self; that my Enemy a∣lone shall have your Ear, and that while I expose my Life for your Ser∣vice, I run the hazard of being re∣compensed with your Indignation. You are mistaken, said I to him, Protesilaus speaks not of you, as you do of him; nay rather, he com∣mends you, he has a value for you, and thinks you worthy of the most important Employments; if ever he offers to speak against you, he shall lose that Trust I repose in him, therefore fear him not, and only take care to serve me well. He went away, and I must now con∣fess, he left me in a strange disor∣der: I plainly saw how necessary it was for me to have several Per∣sons to consult with; and that no∣thing was more prejudicial, either to my Reputation, or the success of my Undertakings, than the trust∣ing one single Man. I found that the wise Counsels of Philocles had kept me from committing many dangerous Faults, into which the

Haughtiness of Protesilaus would have hurried me. I was sensible that Philocles's Mind was adorn'd with Honesty and equitable Prin∣ciples, which I did not find in Pro∣tesilaus, whom by this time I had suffer'd to assume so peremptory a Tone with me, that I was no more able to contradict him almost in a∣ny thing. I was weary of being continually betwixt two Men, whom I could not bring to agree together; and this Lassitude and my Weak∣ness made me chuse to hazard some∣thing at the Expence of my affairs, that I might enjoy my self at liber∣ty. I would have conceal'd from my very self, the shameful Reason of that Course I had embrac'd; but that same shameful Reason, which I was afraid to discover, workt se∣cretly in the bottom of my Heart, and was the Motive of all I did. Philocles defeated the Enemy, gain'd a full Victory, and hasten'd his Re∣turn, in order to prevent the Ill Of∣fices he fear'd from his Rival; but

Protesilaus, who had not yet deceiv'd me, wrote to him, that my Desire was, he should follow his Victory, and make a Descent into the Island of Carpathia; for he perswaded me, I might easily make my self Master of that Island. But he order'd it so, that Philocles wanted many ne∣cessary things for his Undertaking; and tied him up with such Orders, as occasion'd many Disappointments in the execution of it. In the mean time he made use of a corrupt and treacherous Servant of mine, who observ'd every thing I did, and ac∣quainted him with it, altho' they seem'd to speak seldom to one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and ever to be at odds. This Servant (Timocrates by Name) came to me one day, and told me as a great Secret, That he had discover'd a very dangerous Business. Philocles, said he, designs to make use of your Sea-Forces, to make himself King of the Isle of Carpathia; the Captains of those Troops are his Creatures, and all the Soldiers are corrupted by

his Donatives, and much more by the pernicious Licentiousness which he allows in them. He is elevated with his Victory; here is a Letter he writ to one of his Friends, about his Pro∣ject of making himself King; so evi∣dent a Proof puts the Thing out of all doubt. I perused the Letter, which seem'd to be writ by Philocles; for Protesilaus and Timocrates, who made this Forgery, had perfectly i∣mitated his Hand. That Letter cast me into a strange surprize; I read it over and over, and could not be perswaded it was writ by Philocles, whilst I review'd in my distracted Mind, all the sensible Demonstrati∣ous he had given me of his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he had given me of his Dsinterest∣edness and Honesty. However, what could I do? How could I contra∣dict a Letter, which I acknowledg'd to be Philocles's Hand? When 〈◊〉〈◊〉 perceiv'd I could no longer resist his Artifice, he still carried it on further: Shall I dare, said he to me, with a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Voice, to put you in mind of a Word in this Let∣ter?

Philocles tells his Friends, that he may speak in confidence to Pro∣tesilaus, about a thing which he on∣ly marks by a Cypher: Certainly Protesilaus must be privy to the De∣sign of Philocles; 'tis Protesilaus who prest you to send Philocles against the Carpathians; from a certain time he speaks no more to you against him as he us'd to do; nay, on the contrary, he cries him up, he encou∣rages him upon all occasions, and they often pay one another civil Vi∣sits. Without doubt Protesilaus has taken his Measures with Philocles, in order to share with him the Con∣quest of Carpathia: You may see your self how he put you upon this Enterprize against all Reason, and cares not to expose all your Naval Forces, to gratifie his Ambition. Do you think he would thus be subser∣vient to Philocles towring Thoughts, if they were still at odds? No, no; there's no question, but those two Men are reconcil'd, and have join'd Interests to ascend the Throne toge∣ther;

nay, perhaps to dispossess you of your own. I know, by speak∣ing thus freely to you, I expose my self to their Resentment, if, not with∣standing my sincere Information, you still leave your Authority in their Hands; But what care I, as long as I tell you nothing but Truth?

These last Words of Timocrates left a deep Impression in me: I call'd no more Philocles's Treachery into que∣stion, and begun to distrust Protesi∣laus, as one that was his Friend. In the mean time Timocrates told me continually, if you stay till Philocles has made himself Master of the Isle of Carpathia, it will then be too late to put a stop to his Designs; therefore make haste to secure him whilst he is yet in your Power. I shook with horror at the deep Dissimulation of Men, and knew no more whom to trust; for having discover'd Philo∣cles's Treachery, I did not see one Man upon the face of the whole Earth, whose Virtue was able to dispel my Fears. I was resolv'd to

punish that perfidious Man without delay; but I was afraid of Protesilaus, and knew not what Measures to keep with him: I fear'd to find him guilty, and likewise I fear'd to trust him. At last, being in this dis∣order, I could not forbear telling him that I was grown Jealous of Philocles. He seem'd surpriz'd at it, and represented to me how honest, upright, and moderate his Conduct had been; he exaggerated his Ser∣vices; in short, he manag'd the Matter so well, that I was persua∣ded of their Intelligence. On the o∣ther side, Timocrates improved every Circumstance to make me sensible of their good Understanding, and in∣duce me to ruin Philocles, while it was yet in my Power to secure him. Mark, dear Mentor! mark the Un∣happiness of Princes, and how they are exposed to be made the Property of other Men, even when they lie trembling at their Feet. I thought it was a piece of deep Policy, to break Protesilaus's Measures, send∣ing

privately Timocrates to the Fleet with Orders to dispatch Philocles out of the way. Protesilaus carried on his Dissembling to the last, and de∣ceiv'd me so much the better, as he look'd like one who suffers himself to be deceiv'd. Timocrates put to Sea, and found Philocles hard put to it at the intended Descent: He want∣ed every thing; for Protesilaus not knowing whether the suppos'd Let∣ter was sufficient to ruin his Enemy, contriv'd at the same time another Plot, to wit, the ill success of an Enterprize which he had so much cry'd up, and which would not fail to provoke me against Philocles. This innocent Man maintain'd so difficult a War by his Courage, his Policy, and the Affection the Sol∣diers had for him. Although all the Army was sensible that this Descent was rashly undertaken, and would prove fatal to the Cre∣tans; yet all endeavour'd to car∣ry it on, as if their Lives and Hap∣piness had depended upon the suc∣cess

of it; and every one was con∣tented to venture his Life upon all Occasions under so wise a General, and one who always study'd to make himself belov'd. Timocrates expos'd himself to an eminent Dan∣ger, by attempting to make away with that Chief, in the middle of an Army who lov'd him so passion∣ately; but being blinded by Ambi∣tion, he found nothing difficult whilest he endeavour'd to please Protesilaus, with whom he expected to share the absolute Management of Affairs after the death of Philo∣cles. Protesilaus could not endure a good Man, whose very sight secret∣ly reproach'd him with his Crimes; and who, by opening my Eyes, might frustrate all his ambitious De∣signs. Timocrates engag'd two Cap∣tains who were continually near Philocles's Person, and promis'd them great Rewards from me: After∣wards he told Philocles, That he came to deliver to him a secret Mes∣sage from me, which he was or∣der'd

not to disclose but in the Pre∣sence of those two Captains. Phi∣locles having lock'd himself in with them, Timocrates pull'd out a Dag∣ger and stabb'd him; but, as For∣tune order'd it, the Blow was slant∣ing, and did not go deep. Philocles, with undauneed Courage, wrested the Dagger out of his Hand, and us'd it against him, and the other two: At the same time he cry'd out for help; those without run to the Door, and having broke it open, disingag'd Philocles from the Hands of those three Men, who being pre∣sently disorder'd, had attack'd him but faintly. They were disarm'd and seiz'd; and such was the Fury and Indignation of the Army, that they would have torn them in pieces in an instant, had not Philocles stopt the Multitude. Afterwards he took Timocrates aside, and ask'd him calm∣ly, Who had engag'd him to com∣mit so black a Deed? Timocrates, who fear'd Death, shew'd him in∣stantly the Order I gave him in writ∣ing

to dispatch Philocles; and as all Traytors are Cowards, he be∣thought himself of saving his Life by revealing to Philocles Protesilaus's Treachery. Philocles amaz'd and frighted to find so much Malice in Men, follow'd a wise Resolution; he declar'd to the Army, That Ti∣mocrates was innocent; and having secur'd him from their Violence, sent him back to Crete. Afterwards he resign'd the Command of the Army to Polimenes, whom I appointed in my written Order, to Command after Philocles was kill'd. Last of all he exhorted the Troops to remain faithful to their Duty to me, and in the Night-time went over to the Isle of Samos in a small Bark. There he lives retir'd in peaceful Poverty, making Statues to get his Sustenance, and abhorring to hear any Body speak of unjust and treacherous Men, especially Princes, who of all Mor∣tals are the most unhappy and most blind. At these words, Mentor stopping Idomeneus, Well, said he,

Was it long before you discover'd the Truth? No, answer'd Idomene∣us; I found out by degrees the Ar∣tifices of Protesilaus and Timocrates: They fell out a little while after; for wicked Men are seldom long united. By their Division, I per∣ceiv'd the Abyss into which they had precipitated me. Well, said Mentor, did you not then resolve to rid your self of either of them? Alas! Dear Mentor, are you igno∣rant how weak and perplex'd Prin∣ces are? When they have once gi∣ven up themselves to Men who have the Art of making themselves ne∣cessary, they can no longer hope for Liberty. Those whom they de∣spise most, are those whom they use best, and on whom they bestow their Favours; I abhorr'd Protesilaus, and yet I left all my Authority in his Hands. Oh! unaccountable Il∣lusion! I was pleas'd with my self, because I knew him, but my Weak∣ness would not suffer me to re-take my Power from him. Besides, I

found him easie, complaisant, in∣dustrious in gratifying my Passions, zealous for my Service; in short, I found Reasons to excuse my Weak∣ness to my self. My being unac∣quainted with true Virtue, (for want of chusing good Ministers to manage my Affairs) made me be∣lieve there was no such thing on Earth, and that Honesty was but a meer Chimera. Why, said I to my self, should I be at the Pains of get∣ting out of the Hands of one cor∣rupt Man, to fall into those of ano∣ther, who shall be neither more free from Self-Interest, nor more sincere than he?

In the mean time the Fleet com∣manded by Polimenes, return'd: I laid aside the Thoughts of conquer∣ing the Island of Carpathia; and Protesilaus could not dissemble so well, but that I did discover how much he was vex'd to hear that Phi∣locles was safe in the Isle of Samos. Mentor interrupted Idomeneus once more, and ask'd him, Whether af∣ter

so black a Treachery, he had continu'd Protesilaus in the Admini∣stration of his Affairs? I was, an∣swer'd Idomeneus, too great an Ene∣my to Business, and too much di∣stracted by Pleasures, as to be able to get out of his Hands. I must have broke the Method I had esta∣blish'd for my own Ease, and given Instructions to a new Minister; this I had not the Resolution to un∣dertake, and so I chose to wink at the Artifices of Protesilaus; only I comforted my self, with letting some of my intimate Friends understand, that I was not unacquainted with his Dishonesty. Thus I thought I was cheated but by halves, as long as I knew I was cheated. Nay, I now and then made Protesilaus sen∣sible of my being uneasie under his Yoke; I was often pleas'd in con∣tradicting him, in blaming publick∣ly some of his Actions, and in de∣ciding Matters against his Opinion; but being acquainted with my Su∣pinity and Sloth, he was little trou∣bled

at my Disgusts, and pursued his Point with Obstinacy. Some∣times he us'd pressing, imperious Ways, and sometimes supple and fawning Insinuations. But chiefly when he perceiv'd I was angry with him, he redoubled his Endeavours to furnish me with new Amuse∣ments which he thought might sof∣ten me, or engage me in some Af∣fair, wherein he might be necessary, and make his Zeal for my Reputa∣tion appear: And, tho' I stood up∣on my Guard against him, yet this way of flattering my Passions, did daily insnare me. He knew all my Secrets, he comforted me in my Troubles: He made the whole Na∣tion tremble by the Power he u∣surp'd from me: In fine, I could not think of ruining him, but ra∣ther of maintaining him in his Post; I put all honest Men out of capacity of shewing me my true Interest; and after that very moment no Man durst freely give me his Advice. All Truth was fled far from me;

but Error, which is the fore-runner of the fall of Princes, star'd me in the Face, and I plainly saw how much I was to blame to sacrifice Philocles to the cruel Ambition of Protesilaus: Those very Men who were most zealous for the Govern∣ment, and my Person, did not think themselves oblig'd to undeceive me. After so dreadful an Example, I my self, dear Mentor, was afraid lest Truth should pierce through the Cloud, and reach my sight in spite of all my Flatterers; for wanting Resolution to follow it, its Light became troublesome to me; and I was sensible that it would have raised cruel Remorses within me, without freeing me from so fatal an Engagement. My Easiness, and the Ascendent which Protesilaus had gain'd over me, made me almost despair of ever recovering my Li∣berty. I was unwilling either to behold my wretched State, or to discover it to others; for you know, dear Mentor, that the vain Pride and

false Glory, wherein Princes are brought up, will not suffer 'em ever to be in the wrong. To pal∣liate a Fault, they make a hun∣dred; rather than own they have been deceiv'd, and give themselves the trouble of forsaking their Er∣ror, they'll suffer themselves to be deceiv'd all their Lives long. This is the State of weak and inadvertent Princes; and it was exactly my own. When it was absolutely ne∣cessary that I should go to the Siege of Troy, at my departure I left Pro∣tesilaus my chief Minister of State, who in my absence rul'd with Haughtiness and Inhumanity: The whole Kingdom of Crete groan'd un∣der his Tyranny; but no body durst tell me how the People were op∣press'd: They knew that I was a∣fraid to know the Truth, and that I left all those to the Cruelty of Protesilaus, who durst attempt to speak against him. But the more it was conceal'd, the more violent was the Evil. He constrain'd me to throw

off the valiant Merione, who had follow'd me with so much Honour to the Siege of Troy. At my return he grew jealous of him and of all those whom I lov'd, and in whom appeard'd any sign of Virtue. You must know, my dear Mentor, that thence all my Misfortunes had their rise. 'Twas not so much the death of my Son that caus'd the Cretans to revolt, as the Vengeance of the Gods irritated against my Weakness, and the Hatred of the People which Protesilaus had drawn upon me: When I spilt the Blood of my Son, the Cretans, now weary of a rigo∣rous Government, had lost all Pa∣tience, and the horror of this Action did only openly shew what had long lain hidden in the bottom of their Hearts. Timocrates follow'd me to the Siege of Troy, and by private Letters gave Protesilaus an account of all that he could pry into. I plainly perceiv'd that I was in sla∣very, but I endeavour'd not to think of it, despairing to remedy it.

When the Cretans revolted at my Arrival, Protesilaus and Timocrates were the first who fled; and had doubtless left me, had I not been oblig'd to fly almost as soon as they. Know, my dear Mentor, that inso∣lent Men in the time of Prosperity are ever weak, and in disgrace; they grow giddy and faint-hearted as soon as ever absolute Power for∣sakes 'em; they are then as abject as they are haughty, and, in one moment, they pass from one ex∣treme to another.

Said Mentor to Idomeneus, But how comes it then, that knowing these two wicked Men to the very bot∣tom, you should still entertain 'em near you, as I see you do? I dont wonder that they follow'd you, since they cou'd do no otherwise for their own safety; and I believe that you have been so generous as to give 'em a Refuge in your new Settlement; but why will you again betray your self to 'em after such dear experience of'em? You don't know, said Ido∣meneus,

how useless all Experiences are to easy and inadvertent Princes, who live without Reflection; they are discontented with every Thing, and yet have not the Courage to re∣dress any Thing. The Habit of so many Years continuance, is as so many Iron-Fetters that chain'd me to these tow Men; they beset me every Hour; and since I have been here, they have put me upon all these excessive Expences that you see: They have lost this growing State; they drew this War upon me, which had inevitably ruin'd me without you; I shou'd soon have found the same Misfortunes at Sa∣lenta that I felt in Crete; but you have at last open'd my Eyes, and you have inspir'd me with the Cou∣rage which I wanted to throw off this Slavery: I dont know what you have wrought within me, but since you have been here, I find my self quite another Man.

Mentor then ask'd Idomeneus how Protesilaus had behav'd himself in

this change of Affairs. No Man with more artifice, reply'd Idomene∣us, since your arrival here: He has not omitted the least occasion to fill any Soul with unjust Suspicions. 'Tis true he said nothing against you, but several others buzz'd in my Ears that these two Strangers ought to be narrowly inspected: One of 'em, said he, is the Son of the grand De∣ceiver Ulysses, and t'other is a de∣crepid Man, and of deep Thought; they are us'd to wander about from Kingdom to Kingdom, and who knows but they have hatch'd some Design against this? These great Adventurers relate themselves that they have caus'd great Troubles in all the Countries they have past thro'; and ours is but a growing State, and scarce yet settled, so that the least Commotion may overturn it. Protesilaus said nothing, but he endeavour'd to make me perceive the Danger and Extravagance of all these Reformations that you make me attempt: He attack'd me with

my own proper Interest: If, said he, you let the People live in plenty, the'l work no more, but will grow Fierce, Indocile, and ever ready to Revolt; 'tis only Weakness and Mi∣sery that makes 'em humble, and that hinders 'em from disturbing the Government: He has often endea∣vour'd to resume his former Autho∣rity, to hurry me away, covering it with your desire of easing the pretence of his Zeal to serve me. The People, said he, derogate from the Regal Power, and by that you will do the People themsemlves an irreparable Injury. For there is a necessity that they should always be kept low for their own quiet and safety. To all which I answer'd, That I knew how to keep the Peo∣ple in their Duty to me, by making my self belov'd by 'em, and not remit any thing of my Prerogative, tho' I did ease 'em: In short, by giving the Children good Education, and an exact Discipline to all the People, to keep 'em in a plain course

of life, sober and laborious. How! said I, are not the People to be kept in subjection without starving'em to death? What Inhumanity is this! what brutish Policy! How many People do we see govern'd with a gentle hand, and yet Loyal to their Princes? That which causes Re∣volts is the Ambition and Restless∣ness of the Grandees of a State, when once they have got too great a Liberty, suffering their Passions to pass all due Bounds. 'Tis the multitude of great and little, who live at Ease, in Luxury, and in La∣ziness: Tis the too great abun∣dance of Military Men, who have neglected all useful Employments, which they should take upon'em in the time of Peace: In short, 'tis the Despair of a People ill-treated; 'tis the Severity, the Haughtiness of Princes, and their Indulgence of themselves, that makes 'em unca∣pable of watching over every Mem∣ber of the State to prevent any Truoble. See here now what cau∣ses

Revolts? 'Tis not the Bread which the Labourer is suffer'd to eat in Peace, after he has got it by the Sweat of his Brow. When Prote∣silaus saw that I was unshaken in these Maxims, he took a quite con∣trary course to his former practices, and began to observe those Maxims he could not destroy: He seem'd to Relish 'em, to be convinc'd by 'em, and to own himself oblig'd to me for making 'em so obvious to him; and obviates all my Wishes to ease the Poor: He is the first that represents their Grievances to me, and that cries out against extravagant Expences; you know your self he praises you, that he seems to have great confidence in you, and that he omits nothing that may please you. Timocrates indeed, begins not to stand so well with Protesilaus, and thinks to be independent on any bo∣dy but himself: Protesilaus is jea∣lous of him, and it is partly thro' their difference that I have disco∣ver'd their perfidy.

Mentor smiling, replied thus to Idomeneus: What then if you have been so weak as even to suffer your self to be tyrannized over for so ma∣ny Years, by two Traytors, whose Treasons you were acquainted with? Alas! (cry'd Idomeneus) you do not know what Men of Artifice can work on a weak Prince, who has deliver'd himself up to them, in the management of all his Affairs. I told you besides, that nevertheless Protesilaus approves all the Projects for the Publick good. Mentor re∣sum'd the Discourse with a great deal of gravity, and said, I see but too well how much the Wicked pre∣vail against the Good, especially among Princes, of which you are a sad Ex∣ample: But you tell me, I have open'd your Eyes as to Protesilaus, and yet they are so far shut, as to leave the management of the Go∣vernment to this Man who is un∣worthy to live. Know, that wick∣ed Men are not uncapable of doing good; 'tis equally the same thing to

them as to do ill, when they can serve their Ambition. It costs 'em nothing to do ill; because no thought of Goodness, nor any Principle of Virtue does restrain 'em; but just so they do well, because the Corrupti∣on of their Nature leads 'em to it, that they may seem good, so to de∣ceive the rest of Mankind. To speak properly, they are not capable of Virtue, tho' they seem to act by its Principles; but they are capable of adding to all other Vices the most horrible of all Vices, which is Hy∣pocrisie. As long as you stedfastly resolve to do good, Protesilaus will be ready to do good with you, to pre∣serve his Authority; but if he per∣ceives the least lapse from it in you, he will forget nothing that may make you fall again into your Errors, and freely to resume his natural Deceit and Ferocity. Can you live in Ho∣nour and Quiet as long as such a Man haunts you Day and Night, and as long as you know the faith∣ful Philocles, poor and disgrac'd in

the Isle of Samos? O Idomeneus! you know well enough, that the Bold and Deceitful Men, when pre∣sent, insnare weak Princes: And you ought to add, That Princes have yet another Unhappiness no whit inferior, which is, easily to forget Virtue, and the Services of a Man at a distance. The Multi∣tude of Men who crowd on Prin∣ces, is the Reason that there is not one among 'em who can make any deep impression on them; they are not touch'd but by what is present, and by that which flatters 'em; all the rest is soon defac'd. Upon the whole, Virtue touches 'em but little; because, Virtue, far from flattering 'em, contradicts 'em, and condemns their weakness in them. Can we wonder that they are not beloved, when they do not deserve it, and love nothing but their Greatness and Pleasures?

After having thus spoken, Mentor perswaded Idomeneus, that he shou'd turn out Protesilaus and Timocrates,

and recall Philocles. That which most stuck with the King as to this was, That he fear'd the Severity of Philocles. I must confess, said he, I cannot chuse but be a little fear∣ful of his return, tho' I love and esteem him; but I have ever since my Infancy, been accustom'd to be prais'd. to Courtship, and to Com∣plainsance, which I cannot hope to find from this Man. Whenever I did any thing that he dislik'd, his sorrowful Countenance sufficiently assur'd me that he condemn'd me. When he was in private with me, his Maxims were full of respect and moderation, but harsh.

Don't you see, said Mentor, that Princes who are spoil'd by Flattery, think every thing harsh and austere that is free and ingenuous; they are grown so nice, that every thing that is not Flattery offends and provokes 'em. But let us go yet a little fur∣ther: I grant that Philocles is really Harsh and Austere; but is not his Austerity better than the pernicious

Flattery of your Counsellors? Where will you find a Man without Faults? And ought not you to fear the Fault of one who tells you the Truth a little too freely? What do I say? Is not this a Fault necessary to the Correction of yours, and to cure the loathing of Truth which Flattery has begot in you? You want a Man who loves nothing but Truth, and who loves you better than you know how to love your self; who dare, and will tell you unplea∣sing Truths; who will press upon all your Retirements; and this ne∣cessary Man is Philocles. Remem∣ber that Prince is too happy, when but only one Man of such greatness of Mind is Born in his Reign, who is the most valuable Treasure of his Kingdom; and that the greatest Punishment he ought to fear from the Gods, is to be depriv'd of him, if he renders himself unworthy, for want of knowing how to make use of him. As to the Faults of Good Men, he ought to be acquainted

with 'em, and nevertheless make use of their Service: Redress those Faults, deliver not your self blindly up to their indiscreet Zeal, but fa∣vourably hear 'em; honour their Virtue; shew the Publick that you know how to distinguish it; and a∣bove all, take great care that you be not like those Princes, who only despising corrupt Men, do not how∣ever fail to employ and intrust 'em, and to heap kindnesses on 'em; and who pretending to know virtuous Men, give 'em nothing but empty Praises, not desiring to trust 'em in any Employments, nor to admit 'em into their familiar Conversation, nor to bestow any Favours on them. Idomeneus then own'd, that he was a∣sham'd he had so long delay'd the deliverance of oppressed Innocence, and the Punishment of those who had abus'd him: Immediately there∣fore he gave private Orders to He∣gesippus, who was one of the princi∣pal Officers of the Houshold, to seize Protesilaus and Timocrates, and

to carry 'em guarded to the Isle of Samos, and to leave 'em there, and to bring back Philocles from that place of Exile. Hegesippus, surpriz'd at these Orders, cou'd not forbear weeping for Joy. 'Tis now this moment, said he to the King, that you are going to charm your Sub∣jects: For these two Men have caus'd all your Misfortunes as well as those of your People: These Twenty Years have all good Men groan'd under 'em; and 'twas dangerous too to be heard to groan; so cruel is their Tyranny, they oppress all those who endeavour to go to you by any other way but by them. Afterwards Hegesippus discover'd a great many Treacheries and Acts of Inhumanity, committed by these two Men, of which the King never had Informa∣tion before, because no body durst accuse 'em: He gave him besides, an Account of what he had discover'd of a Conspiracy against Mentor. The King heard all with Horror; in the mean while Hegesippus hasten'd to go

take Protesilaus in his House: It was not so large, nor so commodious, nor so pleasant as the King's, but the Architecture was of a better Model; and Protesilaus had adorn'd it with a great deal of Cost, drawn from the Blood of those whom he had made miserable. Protesilaus was at that time in a Parlour of Marble near his Baths, lying carelesly on a Bed of Purple, embroider'd with Gold: He seem'd weary and spent with his Labours: His Eyes and Eye-brows discover'd an unusual kind of dis∣order, and sullen Wildness: The Chief of the Kingdom sate rang'd about him on Carpets, and com∣pos'd their Looks to those of Protesilaus, which they observ'd, even to the twinkling of an Eye: Scarce cou'd he open his Mouth, ere all of them were ready to extol with Admiration what he was going to say. One of the principal of the Company repeated to him with ri∣diculous Exaggerations, what he had done for the King. Another told

him that Jupiter having deceiv'd his Mother, gave Life to him, and that he was Son to the Father of the Gods. Among the rest a Poet sung Verses to him, wherein he recited that Protesilaus being Instructed by the Muses, equal'd Apollo in every performance of Wit; another Poet more Fauning and Impudent, call'd him in his Verses the Inventor of the Liberal Sciences, and the Father of the People, whom he made hap∣py; and describ'd him holding the Horn of Plenty in his Hand. Pro∣tesilaus hearken'd to these Praises with a surly Look, distorted and disdain∣ful, like one who knows well enough that he deserves them, and yet far greater, and who condescends too much in suffering himself to be prais'd. There was another Flat∣terer who took the liberty to tell him in his Ear some pleasant Thing against the Regulations Mentor en∣deavour'd to establish, at which Protesilaus smil'd; and then the whole Assembly fell a Laughing,

tho the greatest part could not yet know what was said; but Protesi∣laus resuming his severe and haughty Air, every one of 'em put on their former dread, and became Silent. These Noblemen often watch'd the happy Opportunity when Protesilaus wou'd cast his Eye towards 'em and hear 'em, appearing mute and disor∣der'd, because they had some Fa∣vours to beg of him: Their dejected Postures spoke for 'em, and they seem'd as submissive as a Mother at the foot of an Altar, when she begs of the Gods that her only Son may be restor'd to his Health. Eve∣ry one appear'd contented, full of Tenderness and Admiration of Pro∣tesilaus, tho they all had entertain'd an implacable hatred of him in their Hearts. In this very Moment en∣ters Hegesippus, seizes his Sword, and tells him that he is come to car∣ry him to the Isle of Samos. At these Words, all the Loftiness of Protesilaus fell down like a Rock that breaks off from the top of a sharp-pointed

Mountain: Now he throws him∣self trembling at the Feet of Hegesip∣pus; he cries, he faulters, he stam∣mers, he quakes, he embraces the Knees of this Man, whom not an Hour since he wou'd not vouchsafe to Honour so much as with a Look: All those who had but just now Worship'd him, seeing him irreco∣verably lost, turn'd their Flatteries into bitter and pitiless Mockeries; and Hegesippus wou'd not allow him so much time as either, to take his last Farewel of his Wife and Fami∣ly, or to fetch some private Writ∣ings; but all were seiz'd and carry'd to the King. At the same time too Timocrates was Arrested, to his great Amazement; for having fall'n out with Protesilaus he thought he cou'd not be involv'd in his Ruin. They set out then in a Vessel prepar'd for that purpose, and arriv'd at Samos, where Hegesippus left these two mi∣serable Wretches, and to compleat their Misery he left 'em together. There, with the greatest Rage, they

reproach'd one another with the Crimes they had committed, which now were the cause of their Fall. They were now past hope of ever seeing Salenta more, condemn'd to live far from their Wives and Chil∣dren, I can't say far from their Friends; for they had none. They were then in an unknown Land, where they had no means of Living but by their Labour: They who had pass'd so many Years in Delicacies and Pride, were now, like wild Beasts, always ready to tear one ano∣ther a Pieces.

In the mean time Hegesippus in∣quir'd in what part of the Isle Phi∣locles dwelt: He was told that he liv'd a great way from the Town upon a Mountain, where a Cave serv'd him for an House. All the Inhabitants spoke to him with Ad∣miration of this Stranger: Never since he has been in this Isle, said they to him, has he offended any Body. Every Man wonders at his Patience, his Labour and Peace of

Mind; since, having nothing, he seems always Contented; and tho he be here far from Business, with∣out Wealth and without Authority, he ceases not however to oblige those who deserve it, and finds a Thou∣sand ways to do all his Neighbours some Service.

Hegesippus went up towards this Grotto, which he found empty and and open; for the Poverty and plain Manners of Philocles, oblig'd him to no necessity of shutting his Door when he went out. A Matt of Rushes serv'd him instead of a Bed: He seldom kindl'd a Fire, because he never eat any Thing dress'd: All the Summer he liv'd upon Fruits newly gather'd; and in the Winter upon Dates and dry Figs. A clear Spring of Water distilling from a Rock, serv'd to quench his Thirst. He had nothing in his Grotto but Instru∣ments necessary for Carving, and some few Books which he read at certain Hours; not to adorn his Mind, nor to satisfy his Curiosity,

but to instruct him at his spare Hours, and to learn to be Good. He apply'd himself to this Art, on∣ly to exercise his Body, and to get a Livelyhood, that he might not be beholding to any Person. Hegesip∣pus entring the Grotto, cou'd not but admire the Works that he had begun; he observ'd a Jupiter, whose serene Countenance was so full of Majesty, that he might easily be known for the Father of the Gods and Men; on another side appear'd Mars with a dreadful and menacing Fierceness: But what was most live∣lily represented, was a Minerva, who gave Life to these Arts; her Countenance was noble and sweet, her Port lofty and free; she was in a Posture so nearly imitating Life, that one might believe that she wou'd immediately Walk. Hege∣sippus having delighted himself with the sight of these Statues, came out of the Grotto, and at some distance off, under a large Tree, he saw Phi∣locles Reading on the Grass. He

went directly towards him; and Philocles who perceiv'd him, knew not what to think. Is not that He∣gesippus there, said he to himself, with whom I liv'd so long in Crete? But what shou'd cause him to come to an Island so far distant? Perhaps 'tis his Ghost that after his Death comes from the Stygian Banks. Whilst he was thus doubting, Hegesippus came so near him, that he cou'd not choose but know him again and embrace him. Is it then indeed you, my dear and old Friend? What Danger, what Tempest has thrown you on this Shoar? Why did you leave the Island of Crete? Is it a Disgrace like mine, which has forc'd you from your Country to our side? Hegesip∣pus answer'd him, 'tis no Disgrace; but, on the contrary, the Kindness of Heaven that has brought me hi∣ther. Then presently he recounted to him the long Tyranny of Protesi∣laus and Timocrates, the Misfortunes into which they had precipitated Ido∣meneus, the Fall of that Prince, his

Flight to the Coasts of Hesperia, the Founding of Salenta, the arrival of Mentor and Telemachus, the wise Maxims with which Mentor had in∣spir'd the King, and the Disgrace of those two Traitours; adding, that he had brought 'em to Samos, to suffer the same Banishment there, which they had caus'd Philocles to undergo, and so finish'd his Dis∣course in telling him that he was commanded to bring him to Salenta; where the King, who knew his In∣nocence, wou'd trust the manage∣ment of his Affairs to him, and heap Riches on him.

Do you see this Cave, said Philo∣cles to him, fitter to hide wild Beasts, than to be inhabited by Men? Here I have tasted for these many Years past, more Sweetness and Repose than ever I did in the gilded Palaces of the Island of Crete. Man deceives me no more, for I Converse with no Man; I hear no more their flat∣tering and poysoning Discourses; I have no more need of 'em. My

Hands inur'd to Labour, give me a wholsome Nourishment, sufficient and necessary; I need no more than this slight Stuff that you see, to cover me; I have no other Want; I en∣joy an undisturb'd Rest and a sweet Freedom, of which the Wisdom in my Books teach me to make a good use. What shou'd I go to seek again among suspicious, deceitful and inconstant Men? No, no, my dear Hegesippus, envy not my good For∣tune. Protesilaus has betray'd him∣self, designing to betray the King, and to ruin me; but, believe me, he has done me no hurt at all: On the contrary he has done me the greatest Kindness; he has deliver'd me from the noise and slavery of Bu∣siness; to him I owe my dear Soli∣tude, and all the innocent Pleasures that I have enjoy'd here. Return, Hegesippus! Return to the King, help him to Support the Miseries of Greatness, and do for him what you wou'd have me do. Since his Eyes, so long shut against Virtue, have at

last been open'd by this wise Man whom you call Mentor; let the King keep him near him. It is dangerous for me after my Shipwrack to quit the Port into which the Tempest had so happily driven me, and to trust my self again to the Mercy of the Winds. Ah! How much are Kings to be pity'd. Ah! How ought they to be pity'd who serve 'em! If they are Wicked, how ma∣ny Men suffer by 'em; and what Torments are prepar'd for 'em in the darkest Hell? If they are Good, how many Difficulties have they to overcome! How many Snares to avoid! What Ills to suffer! — Once more my dear Hegesippus, leave me in my happy Poverty! —

While Philocles was thus speak∣ing with a great deal of earnest∣ness, Hegesippus beheld him with astonishment; he had seen him for∣merly in Crete, during the time he administer'd the greatest Affairs of State, lean, languid, and almost spent, his natural Ardour and Au∣sterity

wasting through Care and Pains: He cou'd not see Vice un∣punish'd without the greatest Con∣cern: He would have Affairs man∣ag'd with such an Exactness as is never known; and thus his great Employments destroy'd his weak Constitution: But at Samos, Hege∣sippus found him plump and vigo∣rous, for all his Age; his flourish∣ing Youth seem'd renew'd in his Face; a temperate, quiet, and la∣borous Life had, as it were, given him a new Constitution. You are surpriz'd to see me so alter'd, said Philocles, then smiling; but know, 'tis my Retreat has thus renew'd and restor'd me to perfect Health. My Enemies have given me what I could never find in the greatest of my Fortunes: Would you have me then lose the true Good, to pursue the false, and plunge my self again in∣to my former Miseries? Ah! I be∣seech you, be not more Cruel than Protesilaus! At least, envy me not the Happiness that I owe to him!

Hegesippus then urg'd to him, but in vain, all that he thought might move him. Are you then insensi∣ble, said he to him, of the Pleasure of seeing your Friends and Relations, who wish and sigh for your Return, and whom the hope alone of embrac∣ing you over-whelms with Joy? You, who revere the Gods, and who love your Duty, do you think it none to serve King; and to assist him in all the good he designs, in making so many People happy? Is it permitted that a Man should a∣bandon himself to a wild and sa∣vage Philosophy, to prefer himself to all the rest of Mankind, and to value his own Quiet more than that of his Fellow-Citizens? If these be not the Reasons, 'twill certainly be thought you do it out of spite, that you will see the King no more; who, if he did design any ill to you, 'twas because he did not then know you. It was not the honest, the just Philocles whom he would have destroy'd; no, 'twas a Man

quite different from him whom he would have punish'd: But now he knows you, and does not mistake you for another; he feels all his former Friendship revive in his Heart: He waits for you; at this very moment he opens his Arms to embrace you: He is so impatient, he thinks every Hour a Day: And can you be inexorable to your King, and to all your dearer Friends?

Philocles, who at first, grew ten∣der at the sight of Hegesippus, re as∣sum'd his grave and severe Look, whilest he hearkned to this Dis∣course, firm as a Rock against which the Winds fruitlessly contend, and roaring Billows break themselves; he was still immovable, nor his Prayers nor his Arguments could pe∣netrate his Heart; but in the mo∣ment when Hegesippus began to de∣spair to prevail on him, Philocles, having consulted the Gods, found by the Flight of Birds, the Entrails of Victims, and by several Divina∣tions,

that he must follow Hegesip∣pus; wherefore he no longer resisted, but prepar'd to go; but not with∣out regret, that he must leave the Desert where he had pass'd so many Years. Alass, said he, O my lovely Grotto, must I quit thee! where peaceful Sleep came every Night to release me from the Labours of the Day! Here the Destinies, in the middle of my Poverty, spun golden Days. Here, weeping, he prostrat∣ed himself to adore the Nayade who had so long quench'd his Thirst with her clear Flood, and all the Nymphs that inhabited the neighbouring Mountains. Eccho heard his mourn∣ful Farewells, and repeated 'em to all the Deities of the Fields. At last Philocles came to the Town with Hegesippus to embark themselves; not imagining that the miserable Protesilaus, for very shame and an∣ger, would have seen him; but he was mistaken, for ill Men have no shame, and can always submit them∣selves to the meanest things; Philo∣cles's

Modesty conceal'd him for fear of being seen by this miserable Wretch; fearing, indeed, to height∣en his Misfortune by shewing him the Prosperity of an Enemy who was going to be rais'd on his Ruins; but Protesilaus eagerly sought Phi∣locles; he desir'd he should pity him, and beg of the King that he might return to Salenta: But Philocles was too sincere to promise him to labour for his being re-call'd; for he knew better than any Man how pernici∣ous his Return would have been: But he spoke very courteously to him, and expressing a great deal of Com∣passion, endeavour'd to comfort him, and exhorted him to appease the angry Gods by a pious Life, and by a magnanimous Patience in his Affliction: And having understood that the King had taken from Prote∣silaus all his ill-gotten Riches, he promis'd him two things, which at last he faithfully perform'd: One was to take care of his Wife and Children, who were at Salenta, ex∣pos'd

to the fury of the Multitude; and t'other was to send to Protesi∣laus, in this Isle so far distant, some little Supply of Money to alleviate his Misfortunes.

In the mean time, a fair Wind fill'd their spreading Sails: Hegesip∣pus, full of impatience, hastens Phi∣locles; and Protesilaus sees 'em em∣bark'd; his Eyes are fix'd and im∣moveable on the Shore; he pursues the Vessel that cuts the Waves, and which the Wind carries farther and farther each Minute; and when at last he could see 'em no more, re∣prints the Idea of them in his Mind: In short, raging and vex'd, and gi∣ven over to his own Despair, he tears his Hair, throws himself on the Sand, taxes the Gods with their Severity, and in vain calls on cruel Death to help him; who deaf to his Prayers, will not vouchsafe to deliver him out of so great Mise∣ries; nor has he the Courage to give it himself.

In the mean while, this Vessel favour'd by Neptune and the Winds, soon arriv'd at Salenta; and as soon as it was told the King, and they were landed at the Port, he ran with Mentor towards Philocles, and kindly embracing him, shew'd a sensible Concern for having perse∣cuted him with so much Inju∣stice.

This Reception, far from appear∣ing a Weakness in a Prince, was look'd upon by the Salentines, as a great Soul, which raises it self above past Faults, in freely owning 'em in order to repair 'em. Every one wept for joy to see this honest Man again, who lov'd the People, and to hear the King speak with so much Discretion and Humanity. Philo∣cles receiv'd the King's Caresses with great Respect and Modesty, and was very impatient to be out of the Noise and Acclamations of the Peo∣ple: He follow'd the King to the Palace, where presently Mentor and He were as well acquainted, as if

they had liv'd together all their Lives long, tho' they had never seen one another before: For the Gods, who have deny'd Eyes to the Wicked to perceive Good, have given Eyes to good Men whereby they know one another. Those who have any Relish of Virtue, can't be together without being united, because they are soon in love with one another. Philocles beg'd of the King that he might retire to some Solitude near Salenta, where he continu'd to spend his days in Poverty, as he had liv'd in Samos. The King and Mentor went daily to see him in his solitary Retreat; where they consulted the Means to strengthen the Laws, and to lay a solid Foundation of Govern∣ment for the Publick Good. The two first and principal things they consider'd, were the Education of Children, who belong less to their own Parents than to the Common∣wealth, said Mentor: They are the Children of the People, whose Hope and Strength they are; and 'tis too

late to Correct 'em when they are corrupted; 'tis too little to exclude 'em from Employments, when they have made themselves unworthy of 'em; 'tis therefore much better to prevent the Mischief, than to be forc'd to punish it. The King, ad∣ed he, who is the Father of all his People, is yet more particularly the Father of all the Youth, who are the Flower of the Nation. 'Tis the Blossom that prepares the Fruit; let not the King disdain to watch over 'em, and set Officers to mind the Education of these Children: Let him see that the Laws of Minos be put in Force, which command, That Children be brought up in a contempt of Pain and Death; That Honour be plac'd in a neglect of Pleasure and Riches; That Inju∣stice, Lying and Effeminacy be ac∣counted Infamous; That from their tender Infancy they be taught to sing the Praises of the Hero's be∣lov'd of the Gods, who have brave∣ly merited of their Country, and

who have signaliz'd their Courage in Battels: Let the Charms of Mu∣sick affect their Souls, to soften and purifie their Manners: Let 'em learn to be Affectionate to their Friends, fathful to their Allies, respectful to the Nobility, and just even to their Enemies: Let 'em be taught to fear Death and Torments less than the least thing of their Con∣science! If Children are betimes in∣spir'd with these great Principles, and if they are sweetly insinuated into 'em, they will, doubtless, be inflam'd with the Love of Honour and Virtue.

Mentor added, That it was abso∣lutely necessary to institute Schools to accustom the Youth to hard Ex∣ercises of the Body, that they may not learn to grow tender and lazy, which debauches the best Constitu∣tion: He farther advis'd, That there should be Plays and Shews fre∣quently to animate the People; but above all, that they should exercise their Bodies, to make 'em active, sup∣ple,

and vigorous, adding a Re∣ward to excite Emulation. But what he most desir'd, and tended chiefly to the encouraging of good Manners, was that the People should marry betimes; and their Parents, without any Prospect of Interest, should leave 'em to chuse their Wives, suitable to 'em both in Bo∣dy and Mind, with whom they might live continually happy.

The End of the Third Volume.