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

THE ADVENTURES OF TELEMACHUS The Son of ULYSSES.

CALYPSO continued Dis∣consolate for the departure of Ulysses: Her Grief was so violent, that she thought her self unhappy in being Immortal: Her Grotto was no more heard ec∣choing to her tuneful Voice: The Nymphs that serv'd her, durst not venture to speak to her: She often

walk'd alone on the Beach, which was cover'd with a charming mixture of Green and Flowers quite round the Island: But these beautiful Walks were so far from asswaging her Grief, that they serv'd only to awaken the killing Thoughts of Ulysses, whose Company she had so often enjoy'd in those Places: Sometimes she stood still and wept, watering the Banks of the Sea with her Tears, and always turn∣ing her Eyes to that side where she had last seen Ulysses his Ship plowing through the Waves; when on a sud∣dain she perceived the broken pieces of a Vessel that was just then split up∣on the Rocks, the Oars and Seats of the Rowers scatter'd here and there upon the Sands, the Mast, Rudder and Cables floating near the Shoar.

Immediately after this, she disco∣vered two Men at a distance, one of them appearing to be Aged, and the other, tho Young, resembling Ulysses; the same sweetness and dignity in his Looks; the same noble Meen and ma∣jestick Port. The Goddess presently

knew him to be Telemachus, the Son of that Hero. But tho' the Deities of this Order far surpass all Men in Knowledge, yet she could not dis∣cover who was the yenerable Person that accompanied Telemachus. For the superior Gods conceal from the infe∣rior whatever they please; and Mi∣nerva, who in the shape of Mentor, ac∣companied Telemachus, would not be known to Calypso.

In the mean time Calypso overjoy'd at this Shipwrack, that had brought the Son of Ulysses, and so like his Fa∣ther, into her Island, advanc'd to∣wards him; and without seeming to know who he was; whence had you, said she, the Confidence to enter my Island? Know, young Stranger, that there are Punishments for all those that come within my Empire. Under such menacing Language she endeavour'd to cover the joy of her Heart, which for all this, appeared in her Face.

Telemachus answer'd, O whoever you are, whether a Mortal or a God∣dess (〈◊〉〈◊〉 by your Looks you should

be something Divine) can you be in∣sensible of a Son's Misfortune, who seeking his Father, and committing his Life to the mercy of the Winds and Seas, has seen his Ship dash'd in pieces against your Rocks? Who, I pray, replied the Goddess, is that Father you seek? He is called Ulysses, said Telemachus; and is one of those Kings, who after a Siege of ten Years, destroyed the famous City of Troy. His Name is celebrated in all Parts of Greece and Asia for his Valour in Fight, and much more for the Wis∣dom of his Counsels: But now he wanders in unknown Seas, and has past most astonishing Dangers. His Country seems to fly from him: His Wife Penelope, and I, who am his Son, have lost all hopes of seeing him again. I run the same Hazards he has done, to learn where he is; but what do I say! It may be he is now buried in the profound Abyss of the Sea. O Goddess! Pity our Misfor∣tunes; and if you know what the Fates have done, either to save or de∣stroy

Ulysses, disdain not to instruct his Son Telemachus.

Calypso fill'd with Amazement and Compassion to find so much Wisdom and Eloquence in so much Youth, could not satiate her Eyes with look∣ing on him, and stood for some time silent. At last she said to him; we will inform you O Telemachus, what has happened to your Father; but the Relation is long, and 'tis more than time to repose after all the Fatigues you have endur'd. Come into my Habitation, and I will receive you as my Son: Come, you shall be my Consolation in this Solitude, and I will make you happy, if you know how to be so.

Telemachus followed the Goddess, who was surrounded by a Crowd of young Nymphs, and surpassed them all in Stature, as a well grown Oak of theForest raises his losty Head above the rest of the Trees. He admir'd the lustre of her Beauty, the rich Purple of her long and floating Robes, her Hair carelessly but gracefully tied be∣hind

her Neck, the Fire that darted from her Eyes, and the sweetness that temper'd this Vivacity. Mentor, with a modest Silence, and looking towards the Ground, follow'd Telemachus. Ar∣riving at the entrance of Calypso's Grotto, Telemachus was surprised to see whatever might charm the Eye, cover'd under the appearance of rural Simplicity. There was neither Gold nor Silver to be seen, no Marble nor Pillars of Stone, no Painting nor Sta∣tues. The Grotto was cut into divers Vaults within the Rock, which were incrusted with Shells and Rockwork. The Tapistry was a young Vine, ex∣tending its tender Branches equally on every side. The gentle Zephyrs pre∣serv'd a refreshing coolness in this Place, secure from the scorching Heat of the Sun. Springs of pure Water pass'd sweetly whispering through the Meadows that were painted with Vi∣olets and Amaranthus, and form'd di∣vers natural Baths as clear and as bright as Christal. A thousand Flow∣ers enamell'd the green Turf that sur∣rounded

the Grotto. There was an intire Wood of those Trees, that bear golden Apples, and put forth Flowers in every Season, yielding the sweetest of all Perfumes. This Wood seem'd to Crown the beautiful Mea∣dows, and made an artificial Night, which the Beams of the Sun could not penetrate. Here nothing was ever heard, but the singing of Birds, or the noise of Waters impetuously pre∣cipitating from the Rocks, and gliding away through the Fields.

The Grotto of the Goddess was on the descent of a Hill, from whence she had a view of the Sea, one while clear and smooth as Glass, at another time vainly angry with the Rocks, swelling into Waves, and breaking to pieces against them: From ano∣ther side she might see a River, con∣taining many little Islands border'd with flowering Lime-Trees, and lof∣ty Poplars, that rear'd their stately Heads to the Clouds. The several Channels that form'd these Islands, seem'd to play and sport between the

Banks, some rowling their Waters with rapidity, others more gently and quietly; and others after many wind∣ings, returning as it were to the Spring from whence they came, seem'd unwilling to leave the charming Place. One might see afar off many Hills and Mountains hiding their Heads in the Clouds, and forming such odd and unusual Figures as were very agrea∣ble to the Eye. The Hills that stood at less distance were covered with Vines, the Grapes of which surpass'd the richest Purple in Colour, and could not conceal themselves under the Leaves of the Trees that bow'd under the weight of their Fruit. The Fig-tree, the Olive and the Pomgra∣nat, with all Kinds of other Trees cover'd the rest of the Country, and made it one intire Garden.

Calypso having shew'd Telemachus all these Beauties of Nature, said to him, 'tis time for you to repose, and to change your wet Garments; after which we will see one another again, and I will tell you some Things that

shall affect your Heart. Having said this, she caused them both to enter into the most private and retired part of a Grotto, which stood near to that in which she dwelt. Her Nymphs had taken care to light a Fire of Cedar, which fill'd the Apartment with an agreeable scent, and had left all ne∣cessary Apparel for the two Strangers. Telemachus finding that the Goddess had design'd him a Tunick of the finest Wooll, and white as Snow, with a Vest of Purple, richly embroider'd with Gold, was, like a young Man, infinitely pleas'd with this Magnifi∣cence; which Mentor perceiving, he said with a grave and severe Voice,

Are these, O Telemachus, the Thoughts that ought to possess the Heart of the Son of Ulysses? Think rather to maintain the Reputation your Father has acquired, and to overcome the Persecutions of For∣tune. A young Man who loves to dress like a Woman, is unworthy of Wisdom and Glory. The Heart that knows not how to suffer Pain

and despise Pleasure, is unfit to pos∣sess those glorious Advantages.

Telemachus with a deep Sigh an∣swer'd, May the Gods destroy me ra∣ther than suffer me to fall under the power of effeminate Pleasures. No! the Son of Ulysses shall never be sub∣dued by the Charms of a soft and un∣worthy Life: But what Favour of Heaven has brought us to this God∣dess, or to this Mortal, who has re∣ceived us with so much Goodness?

Tremble, replied Mentor, least in the end she overwhelm you with Evil; be more afraid of her insinu∣ating Charms, than of the Rocks that split your Ship; Death and Shipwrack are less dreadful than the Pleasures that attack Virtue; be upon your Guard, and beware of believing any thing she shall say to you: Youth is full of Presumption and Arrogance, tho' nothing in the World be so frail; it sears nothing, and vainly relies upon its own Strength; believing all Things with the utmost Levity, and with∣out

any Precaution. Beware of hearkning to the soft and flattering Words of Calypso, which will slide into your Heart with Pleasure; fear the concealed Poison, distrust your self, and determine nothing without my Counsel.

After this they return'd to Calypso, who waited for them; and presently her Nymphs, dress'd in white, with their Hair tied up, brought in a plain but exquisite Repast, consisting of Birds that they had taken with Nets, and of Venison that they had kill'd with their Bows. The Wine was sweeter than Nectar, and flow'd from Jarrs of Silver into Golden Bowels, that were crown'd with Flowers. All sorts of Fruit that the Spring promises, and Autumn ripens in profusion, were brought in Baskets, and four young Nymphs began to Sing. First, they sung the War of the Gods against the Gyants, then the Loves of Jupiter and Semele; the Birth of Bacchus, and his Education under the care of old Sile∣nus; the Race of Atalanta and Hypo∣menes,

who was overcome by means of the Golden Apples that came from the Garden of the Hesperides. Last of all they Sung the War of Troy, and exalted the Valour and Wisdom of Ulysses to the Heavens. The chief of the Nymphs, whose Name was Leu∣cothoe, accompanied their sweet voices with her Lute. When Telemachus heard the Name of his Father, the Tears that flow'd down his Cheeks, gave a new lustre to his Beauty. But Calypso perceiving that he could not Eat, and that he was siez'd with Grief, made a sign to the Nymphs; and presently they began to Sing the Fight between the Centaurs and the Lapithae, and the descent of Orpheus in∣to Hell, to recover his dear Eurydice.

When they had eaten, the Goddess took Telemachus aside, and said to him; You see, O Son of the Great Ulysses, with what savour I receive you into my Habitation. Yet know, that I am Immortal, and that no Mor∣tal can enter into this Island without being punished for his rash attempt;

nay, even your Shipwrack should not secure you from the effects of my In∣dignation, if I did not love you. Your Father had the same Happiness you now enjoy; but, alass! he knew not how to use it. I detain'd him a long time in this Island, and, had he been contented, he might have liv'd with me in an immortal Condition: But a fond Passion to return to his wretch∣ed Country, made him reject all these Advantages. You see what he has lost for the sake of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Ithaca, which he shall never see again. He resolv'd to leave me; he went away, and I was reveng'd by a Storm. Af∣ter his Vessel had serv'd for Sport to the Winds, it was buried under the Waves. Make a right use of so sad an Example; for after his Shipwrack, you can neither hope to see him again, nor ever to reign in the Island of Ithaca. Forget this Loss, and remem∣ber you have found a Goddess, that offers to make you happy, and to pre∣sent you with a Kingdom. To these Words Calypso added many more, to

shew him, how happy Ulysses had been with her. She related his Ad∣ventures in the Cave of the Cyclops Polyphemus, and the Disaster that be∣fel him in the Country of Antiphates King of the Lestrigons; not forgetting what happened to him in the Island of Circe, Daughter to the Sun; or the Dangers he pass'd between Scylla and Charybdis. She represented the last Storm that Neptune had rais'd against him when he left her, and desired to perswade him, that he had perished in that Shipwrack; but sup∣press'd his arrival in the Island of the Pheacians.

Telemachus, who at first had too easily abandon'd himself to Joy when he found he was so well received by Calypso, now began to perceive her Artifices, and the Wisdom of those Counsels that Mentor had given him. He answer'd in few Words, O God∣dess, pardon my Grief, which at pre∣sent I cannot overcome; it may be, hereafter I may have more force to re∣lish the Fortune you offer me: Give

me leave at this time to Weep for my Father; for you know better than I, how much he deserves to be regretted.

Calypso not daring to press him any farther on that Subject, feigned to sympathize with him in his Affliction, and to shew her self passionately con∣cerned for the loss of Ulysses; but that she might the better find the way to his Heart, she ask'd him in what man∣ner he had suffer'd Shipwrack, and by what Adventures he was brought to her Island. The Relation of my Mis∣fortunes, said he, would be too long. No, no, replied she, I am in pain to know them, and therefore give me that Satisfaction. After much solli∣citation she prevailed with him, and he began thus.

I parted from Ithaca with intention to inquire of those Kings that were return'd from the Siege of Troy, what they knew concerning my Father. The Lovers of my Mother Penelope were surpris'd at my departure, which I had taken care to conceal from them, because I was well acquainted

with their Perfidiousness. But nei∣ther Menelaus, who received me with Affection at Lacedemon, nor Nestor, whom I saw at Pilos, could inform me whether my Father were still alive. Weary with living always in suspense and uncertainty, I resolv'd to pass into Sicily, where I had heard my Father had been driven by the Winds. But the Sage Mentor who is here pre∣sent, opposed this rash Design, re∣presenting to me on the one hand the Cyclops, who are monstrous Gyants that devour Men; on the other, the Fleet of Eneas and the Trojans, who were upon that Coast. The Trojans, said he, are highly incensed against all the Greeks; but they would take a singular Pleasure to shed the Blood of the Son of Ulysses: Return there∣fore to Ithaca, it may be your Father, who is a Favorite of Heaven, may arrive there as soon as you: But if the Gods have resolv'd his Destructi∣no, and he is never more to see his Country, at least it becomes you to revenge him against his Rivals, to

deliver your Mother, and to give such proof of your Wisdom to all the Peo∣ple of Greece, that they may know you are as worthy to reign, as ever Ulysses was. This Counsel was useful and honourable, but I had not Prudence enough to follow it, and heark'ned only to my own Passion; yet the wise Mentor lov'd me to such a de∣gree, that he condescended to accom∣pany me in that Voyage, which I rashly undertook against his Advice.

Whilst he spoke, Calypso look'd ear∣nestly, and not without Astonishment upon Mentor. She thought she per∣ceived something Divine in him, but could not disintangle the confusion of her Thoughts; which caused her to continue apprehensive and diffident in the presence of this unknown Person. But fearing above all Things to dis∣cover the disorder of her Mind, she desired Telemachus to proceed, which he did in this manner.

We had the Wind favorable for some time after our departure for Si∣cily; but then, a violent Storm ari∣sing,

depriv'd us of the view of Hea∣ven, and involv'd us in the obscurity of Night: Yet by some flashes of Lightning, we perceived other Ships exposed to the same Danger, which when we understood to be the Fleet of AEneas, we thought them no less formidable to us than the Rocks them∣selves. In that Moment I compre∣hended, tho' too late, what the Heat of imprudent Youth had hindred me from considering before. Mentor, in the midst of this Danger, appear'd not only Resolute and Intrepid, but more cheerful than he used to be. 'Twas he that inspir'd me with Resolution, and I felt the extraordinary force of his Encouragements. He gave out all necessary Orders, when the Pilot knew not what to do. I said to him, my dear Mentor, why did I refufe to follow your Counsels? Am I not un∣happy, to act by my own Advice, at such an Age, as has no foresight of Futurity, no experience of things past, nor moderation to govern the pre∣sent? O! If ever we escape this Storm,

I resolve to distrust my self, as I would my most dangerous Enemy, and to believe you alone for ever. To this Mentor answer'd smiling; I shall not blame you for the Fault you have committed: 'Tis enough that you are sensible of it, and make it serve you hereafter to moderate your Desires. But perhaps when the Danger is past, Presumption will return. We may now be apprehensive, and endeavour to prevent the worst; but if all we can do, prove ineffectual, we have nothing left but a generous Contempt. Shew your self worthy of such a Fa∣ther, and let your Courage be greater than the Dangers that threaten. I was charm'd with the sweetness and magnanimity of the wise Mentor; but I was much more surpris'd, when I saw with what dexterity he brought about our Deliverance.

The Trojans were so near, that they could not fail to discover who we were, as soon as the Light should ap∣pear; which Mentor knowing, and in that Instant perceiving one of their

Ships which was separated from the rest of the Fleet, to be something like ours, except certain Garlands of Flowers that she carried at her Stern, he hung up the same sorts of Flowers on the same part of our Ship, and fasten'd them himself with Ribbons of the same Colour with those of the Trojans. He order'd the Rowers to bow themselves as low as the Oar would permit, that they might not be discovered by the Enemy. In this manner we pass'd through the midst of their Fleet, whilst they shouted for Joy to see us, supposing we were their Companions, which they thought to be lost. We were forced along with them by the violence of the Weather for a considerable time; but at last we found means to keep a little behind, and whilst they were driven by the Winds towards the Shoar of Africa, we exerted our utmost Efforts to make the nearest Coast of Sicily.

We arrived, as we design'd; but that which we sought, proved almost as fatal to us, as the Fleet we avoided;

we found more Trojans, and conse∣quently Enemies to all Greeks; for old Acestes reigned in these Parts. As soon as we got Ashoar, the Inhabi∣tants, thinking us to be either some other People of the Island come to surprize them, or else Strangers that design'd to sieze their Country, burnt our Ship, kill'd our Companions, and reserv'd only Mentor and me to be presented to Acestes, that we might inform him of our Designs, and whence we came. We were brought into the Town with our Hands tied behind our Backs, and our Death was deferr'd, only to make us a Spectacle to a cruel People, as soon as they should know we were Greeks.

We were without delay presented to Acestes, who sate with a golden Scepter in his Hand, distributing Ju∣stice, and preparing himself for a great Sacrifice. He ask'd us with a severe Voice, of what Country we were, and the occasion of our Voyage. Mentor answer'd, We come from the Coasts of the great Hesperia, and our

Country is not far from thence: By this means he avoided to say that we were Greeks. But Acestes would hear no more, and taking us for Per∣sons that conceal'd some bad Design, he commanded us to be sent into a Neighbouring Forest, there to serve as Slaves to those who look'd after the Cattle. This Condition seem'd more terrible to me than Death. I cried out, O King, order us rather to suffer Death, than to be treated so unwor∣thily: Know, that I am Telemachus the Son of the wise Ulysses, King of the Ithacians. I seek my Father in all parts of the World; and if I can nei∣ther find him, nor return to my Coun∣try, nor avoid Servitude, take that Life from me, which I cannot bear. Scarce had I pronounced these Words, when all the People in a Rage cried out, That the Son of the cruel Ulysses must die, whose Artifices had destroy'd the City of Troy.

O Son of Ulysses, said Acestes, I cannot refuse your Blood to the Ghosts of so many Trojans, that your Father

precipitated into the Waters of the black Cocytus. You and your Con∣ductor shall die. At the same time an Old Man of the Company proposed to the King, that we should be Sacri∣ficed upon the Tomb of Anchises. Their Blood, said he, will be grateful to the Soul of that Hero. AEneas him∣self, when he hears of this Sacrifice, will be overjoy'd to see how much you love what was dearer to him than all other Things in the World. Eve∣ry One applauded this Proposition, and nothing remain'd but to put it in Exe∣cution. We were led to the Tomb of Anchises, where two Altars were erected, and the Sacred Fire kindled. The Knife was brought, we were Crown'd with Garlands, and no Com∣position would be accepted to save our Lives. Our Fate was determined, when Mentor calmly desir'd to speak to the King; and having receiv'd Per∣mission, said, O Acestes, if the Mis∣fortunes of Young Telemachus, who never carried Arms against the Tro∣jans, may not plead for him, at least

let your own Interest move you. The Knowledge I have acquir'd to predict the Will of the Gods, informs me, That before the end of three Days, you shall be attack'd by a barbarous People, who will come down like a Torrent from the Mountains, to de∣stroy your City, and ravage your whole Country. Hasten to prevent them, Arm your People, and from this moment begin to secure within these Walls all the Riches you have in the Fields. If my Prediction be false, you may Sacrifice us when the three Days are expir'd; but if on the contrary it prove true, remember, That no One ought to take away the Lives of those, by whom his own was preserv'd. Acestes was astonish'd at these Words, which Mentor spoke with more assurance than he had ever found in any Man. I see, said he, O Stranger, That the Gods who have granted you so small a share in the Favours of Fortune, have in Recom∣pence given you such Wisdom, as is more valuable than the highest Pros∣perity.

At the same time he put off the Sacrifice, and issued out all necessary Orders with the utmost Di∣ligence, to prevent the Attack that Mentor had foretold. On all sides were to be seen Old Men and Wo∣men trembling for fear, and ac∣companied with great numbers of Young Children, bath'd in Tears, and retiring into the City. The lowing Oxen and bleating Sheep, left the rich Pastures and came along in confusion; but their number was too great, to find places to contain them all. The Noise and Tumult of People pressing to get in, was such, that no One could understand another. In this Dis∣order, some took an unknown Per∣son for their Friend, and others ran, tho' they knew not whether. But the Principal Men of the City, think∣ing themselves wiser than the rest, suspected Mentor to be an Impostor, who had predicted a Falshood to save his Life. Yet before the third Day was expired, whilst they

were full of these Imaginations, a Cloud of Dust was seen rising upon the descent of the Neighbouring Hills; an innumerable Multitude of Barbarians appear'd in Arms, and all those who had despis'd the wise Prediction of Mentor, lost all their Slaves and their Cattle. Upon this, the King said to Mentor; I forget that you are Greeks; our Enemies are become our faithful Friends; the Gods have sent you to save us; I expect no less from your Valour, than from the Wisdom of your Words: Hasten therefore to assist us.

Mentor shew'd in his Eyes a bold∣ness, that was sufficient to astonish the fiercest Warrior. He takes up a Shield, a Helmet, a Sword and a Lance: He draws up the Soldiers of Acestes, puts himself at their Head, and advances in good Order towards the Enemy. Acestes, tho' full of Courage, could not fol∣low him, but at a distance, by rea∣son of his Age. I follow'd him

more close. But nothing can equal his Valour. In the Fight, his Helmet resembled the immortal One of Minerva. Death flew from Rank to Rank, where-ever his Blows fell: As a Lyon of Numi∣dia, provok'd by cruel Hunger, falling upon a Flock of unresist∣ing Sheep, kills, tears, and swims in Blood: Whilst the Shep∣herds far from assisting their Flock, fly trembling away from his Fu∣ry.

These Barbarians, who hoped to surprise the City, were themselves surpris'd and defeated. The Sub∣jects of Acestes were animated by the Example and Words of Mentor; and felt a Vigour which they thought not to be in them. With my Lance I kill'd the Son of the Barbarian King. He was of my Age, but much higher than I am; for this People is descended from Gyants, and of the same Race with the Cyclops. He despis'd so weak an Enemy; but I, not at all daunted with his prodi∣gious

Strength, or his fierce and sa∣vage Looks, push'd my Lance against his Breast, and made his Soul gush out at the Wound in a Torrent of black and reeking Blood. As he fell he was like to crush me in pieces by his Fall. The sound of his Arms eccho'd in the Hills. I took the Spoil, and return'd to Acestes with the Arms I had gain'd from this formidable Enemy. Mentor having intirely broken the Barbarians, pur∣sued them to the Woods, and cut them in pieces. This unexpected Success made Mentor to be regarded, as one cherish'd and inspir'd by the Gods: And Acestes from a sense of Gratitude, shew'd his Concernment for us if the Fleet of Eneas should return to Sicily. He gave us a Ship to carry us to our own Country; made us many and rich Presents, and press'd us to hasten our Departure, that we might prevent any Mischief. But he would not give us either a Pilot, or Mariners of his own Na∣tion, sor fear they might be expos'd

to too much Hazard upon the Coast of Greece. He committed us to the care of certain Phenician Merchants, who Trading with all the People of the World, had no occasion to fear, and order'd them to bring back the Ship, when they had left us safe in Ithaca. But the Gods, who sport with the Designs of Men, had re∣serv'd us for farther Calamities.

The Tyrians by their Insolence had highly provoked the King of Egypt, whose name was Sesostris, and who had conquered many Kingdoms. The Riches they had acquir'd by Trade, and the impregnable Strength of Tyre, which stands situated in the Sea, had render'd this People so Proud, that they not only refused to pay the Tribute which Sesostris imposed upon them in his ruturn from the Conquests he had made, but assisted his Brother with Forces, who had conspir'd to murder him on the Festival that was appointed to be celebrated on account of his great Victories. For these Reasons

Sesostris resolved to humble them, by ruining their Commerce at Sea, and commanded all his Ships to seek out and assault the Phenicians. One of his Fleets met with us, as soon as we lost sight of the Sicilian Moun∣tains, when the Harbour and Land seem'd to fly from behind us, and lose themselves in the Clouds. At the same time we saw the Egyptian Ships advancing towards us like a sloating City. The Phenicians per∣ceived, and endeavour'd to avoid them, but 'twas too late. Their Ships were better Sailors, their Ma∣riners more numerous, the Wind favour'd them, they Boarded us, Took us, and carried us Prisoners to Egypt. I told them, but in vain, that I was no Phenician, they hard∣ly vouchsafed to hear me; they look'd upon us as Slaves, in which Merchandise they knew the Phenici∣ans traded, and thought only of making the best of their Prize. We arrived in the Island of Pharos, and rom thence were carried up the

Nile to Memphis. If the Grief we felt by reason of our Captivity, had not render'd us insensible to all Plea∣sure, our Eyes would have been charm'd with the fruitful Country of Egypt, like a delicious Garden every where Water'd with the purest Streams. We could not turn our Eyes on either side of the River, without discovering many opulent Islands; great numbers of well situ∣ated Villa's; Lands richly cover'd with a golden Harvest; Meadows full stock'd with Cattle; Labourers bowing under the weight of the Fruits they had gather'd, and Shep∣herds that made the Eccho's on every side repeat the sweet sound of their Pipes and Flutes.

Happy, said Mentor, is the Peo∣ple, who are govern'd by a wise King: They live in Plenty and Contentment, and love him to whom they owe their Felicity. Thus, said he, O Telemachus you ought to Reign, and be the Joy of your People. If ever the Gods

give you the Possession of your Father's Kingdom, love your People as your Children; feel the Pleasure of being beloved by them, and carry your self so, that all the Tranquility and Pleasure they enjoy, may lead them to remem∣ber, that they are the rich Pre∣sents of a good King: Kings who make it their only business to ren∣der themselves formidable to their own Subjects, and to impoverish them in order to make them more submissive, are the Plagues of Mankind. They are perhaps feared, as they desire; but they are hated, detested, and have more reason to be afraid of their Subjects, than their Subjects have to fear them.

I answer'd, alas, Mentor, 'Tis not now the Question, by what Maxims a King ought to Reign. We shall never see Ithaca again. We shall never see our Country or Penelope more; and tho' Ulysses should return full of Glory to his Kingdom, he

would never have the satisfaction of seeing me there; nor I that of obey∣ing him, and learning the Rules of Government from him. No, Let us dye, dear Mentor; for we must have no other Thoughts: Let us dye, since the Gods have no Com∣passion for us. As I spoke, my Words were interrupted with sighs. But Mentor, tho' he could be appre∣hensive of approaching Evils, knew not what it was to fear them when they had happen'd. Unworthy Son of the wise Ulysses, cried he, Dost thou suffer thy self to be over∣come by thy Misfortunes? Know that you shall one Day see both Ithaca and Penelope. You shall see what your Eyes have never seen, The invincible Ulysses in his former Glory: He, whom Fortune cannot Conquer, and who in greater Mis∣fortune admonishes us never to De∣spair. O! if he should hear in the Regions, where he is driven by the Winds and Sea, that his Son knows not how to imitate him, either in

Patience or Courage, such News would overwhelm him with Shame, and prove more heavy than all the Misfortunes he has yet suffered.

After this Mentor caused me to observe the Fertility and Happiness that was seen over all the Country of Egypt, which contain'd Two and twenty thousand Cities. He ad∣mir'd the regular Government of these Places; the distribution of Ju∣stice, which was every where exer∣cised with great regard to the Poor; the good Education of Children, who were inur'd early to Obedience, Labour, Sobriety, Arts or Learn∣ing; the due observation of all the Ceremonies of Religion, a generous and disinterested Spirit, a great de∣sire of Reputation, an universal Sin∣cerity in their Dealings with Men, and a just Reverence of the Gods; which every Father took care to in∣fuse into his Children. He thought he could never enough admire this beautiful Order. He would often cry out in a Rapture of Joy, O! how

happy is that People, which is thus govern'd by a wise King! But yet more happy is that King, who when he has provided for the Hap∣piness of so great a People, can find himself happy in his own Virtue. Such a one is more than fear'd; he is belov'd. Men not only Obey him; but they Obey him with Plea∣sure. He Reigns universally in their Hearts; and every Man is so far from desiring his Death, that he fears it above all Misfortunes, and would readily sacrifice his Life for him.

I heark'ned with Attention to what Mentor said; and as he spoke, I found my Courage to revive in the bottom of my Heart. As soon as we were arriv'd at the rich and magnificent City of Memphis, the Governor commanded us to be sent to Thebes, in order to be presented to King Sesostris, who being highly incens'd against the Tyrians, had re∣solved to examin us himself. So we proceeded in our Voyage up the Ri∣ver

Nile, till we came to the famous Thebes, which has a Hundred Gates, and serves for a Habitation to that great King. This City appear'd to us of a vast Extent, and more Po∣pulous than the most flourishing Cities of Greece. The Orders are Excellent, in all that regards the neatness and conveniency of the Streets, the course of the publick Waters; the Baths; the advance∣ment of Arts and Sciences, and the common Safety. The Piazza's are adorn'd with Fountains and Obe∣lisks. The Temples are Marble; of plain, but majestick Architecture. The Palace of the Prince is like a great City; 'tis full of Marble Pil∣lars, Pyramids, Obelisks and vast Statues, with Moveables of solid Gold and Silver. They who took us, inform'd the King, that they found us on board a Phenician Ship. For he had certain Hours of every Day, in which he regularly heard all his Subjects, that had any thing to say to him, either by way of

Complaint or Advice. He neither despised nor rejected any Man, and knew he was King for no other end, than to do Good to his Sub∣jects, whom he lov'd as his Chil∣dren. Strangers also he received with Kindness, and was always de∣sirous to see them; because he thought it a useful and advantage∣ous Thing to be inform'd of the Customs and Maxims of remote Na∣tions; and this Curiosity of the King was the principal Cause that we were brought before him. When he saw me, he was upon a Throne of Ivory, with a golden Scepter in his Hand. He was Aged, but Come∣ly, full of Sweetness and Majesty. He daily distributed Justice to the People, with such Patience and Wis∣dom, as made him admir'd without Flattery. After he had spent the whole Day in doing Justice, and taking care of the publick Affairs, he usually pass'd the Evening in hearing the Discourses of learned Men, or conversing with the best

of his People, whom he knew how to chuse, and admit into his Fami∣liarity. During his whole Life he could not be blam'd for any thing, except for triumphing with too much Pomp over the Kings he had Con∣quer'd, and trusting a Man whose Picture I shall draw by and by. He was mov'd with my Youth and my Affiction, and ask'd me my Country and my Name, whilst we wonder'd at the Wisdom that spoke by his Mouth. I answer'd You have undoubtedly heard, O Great King, of the Siege of Troy, which lasted ten Years, and the destruction of that City, which cost so much Grecian Blood. Ulysses, my Father, was one of the principal Kings who ruin'd that Place. He now wanders through all the Seas, without being able to return to the Island of Ithaca, which is his Kingdom. I seek my Father, and by a Misfortune equal to his own, have been surprised and taken Prisoner. Restore me to my Father and Country, and may the

Gods preserve You to your Children, and make them sensible of the Plea∣sure of living under so good a Fa∣ther.

Sesostris continued to look upon me with an Eye of Compassion; but being desirous to know if what I said was true, he referr'd us to be examin'd by one of his Officers, commanding him to inquire of those that took our Ship, whether we were Greeks or Phenicians. If they are Phenicians, said the King, they must be doubly punished, first be∣cause they are our Enemies, and then, because they have endeavour'd to deceive us by a base Falshood. But if on the contrary they are Greeks, I will have them to be treat∣ed favourably, and sent back into their own Country in one of my Ships; For I love the Greeks, who have received many Laws from the Egyptians. I am not ignorant of the Virtues of Hercules, the Glory of Achilles has reach'd our Ears, and I admire what I have heard of the

Wisdom of the unhappy Ulysses. I have no greater Pleasure than to assist unfortunate Virtue.

The Officer to whom the King had referr'd the Examination of our Business, had a Heart as Corrupt∣ed and Malicious, as Sesostris was Sincere and Generous. The Name of this Man was Metophis. He en∣deavour'd to ensnare us by artificial Questions; and when he saw that Mentor answer'd with more Wis∣dom than I, he look'd upon him with Aversion and Diffidence; for ill Men are always Enemies to the Good. He caused ut to be separa∣ted, and from that time I knew not what became of Mentor. This Se∣paration was to me, as if I had been struck with Thunder. Metophis was not without hopes, that by a sepa∣rate Examination, we might be drawn to say contrary Things. At least he thought to dazle my Eyes with his flattering Promises, and make me acknowledg what Men∣tor had conceal'd from him. In a

Word, he sought not to find out the Truth; but by any means to get a pretence to tell the King we were Phenicians, that he might keep us for his Slaves.

In effect, notwithstanding our In∣nocence, and all the Wisdom of the King, he found out a way to de∣ceive him.

Alas! How are Kings expos'd? The wisest are often abus'd by Men of Artifice and Interest, that are about them. Good Men retire from Courts, because they are neither Presump∣tuous nor Flatterers. They wait till they are sent for; and Princes seldom know how to send for them. On the other Hand, ill Men are Bold, Deceitful, Impu∣dent and Insinuating; dextrous at Dissembling, and ready to do any thing against Honour and Conscience, to gratify the Passi∣ons of the Person that Reigns. O! how unhappy is that King, who is open to the Artifices of bad Men? He is lost if he do's

not suppress Flattery, and love those who speak the Truth with Confidence.

These were the Re∣flections I made in my Misfortunes, when I call'd to mind the things that I had heard from Mentor.

In the mean time Metophis sent me towards the Mountains of the Desert with his Slaves, that I might serve with them to look after his numerous Flocks. Here Calypso in∣terrupted Telemachus, and said, Well! and what did you then? You, that in Sicily had preferr'd Death before Servitude. Telemachus answer'd, My Misfortunes increased Daily; I had no longer the wretched liberty of chusing between Slavery and Death; I was compell'd to be a Slave, and to exhaust all the rigours of Fortune. I had lost all hope, and could not say one word in order to my Delive∣rance. Mentor has since told me, that he was sold to certain Ethiopi∣ans, and that he follow'd them to Ethiopia.

As for me, I arriv'd in a horrid Desert, where nothing but burning Sands was to be seen upon the Plains, and Snow that never melted made an eternal Winter on the tops of the Hills. Only some scatter'd Pa∣sture for the Cattle was here and there found among the Rocks. In the midst of these Precipices, the Vallies are so profound, that the Sun can scarce let fall a Beam up∣on them. I found no other Men in these Places than Shepherds, as savage as the Country it self. There I passed the Nights in bewailing my Misfortune, and the Days in following my Flock, to avoid the brutal Rage of Buffus, who was chief among the Slaves, and who hoping to obtain his Liberty, never ceas'd from Calumniating the rest, that he might perswade Metophis of his Zeal and Industry in his Service. On this occasion, Impatience was pardonable. In the anguish of my Heart I one Day forgot my Flock, and lay down upon the Grass by a

Cave, where I expected Death to relieve me from the Evils I was not able to bear. In that Instant I per∣ceived the Mountain to tremble, the Oaks and Pines seeming to descend from the summet of the Hill: The Winds suppress'd their Breathing, and a hollow Voice issuing out of the Cave pronounc'd these Words.

O Son of the wise Ulysses, thou art to be like him, great by Pa∣tience. Princes who have always been happy, are seldom worthy to be so: They are corrupted by unmanly Pleasures, and drunk with the Pride of Prosperity. Happy shalt thou be, if thou canst surmount these Misfortunes, and always remember thy present Con∣dition: Thou shalt certainly see Ithaca again, and thy Glory shall ascend to the Heavens: When thou shalt command Men, re∣member that thou hast been like them in Poverty, Weakness and Calamity. Take a Pleasure in being good to them; love thy

People, detest Flatterers, and know that there is no other way to be truly great, than by Mode∣ration and Fortitude to overcome thy Passions.

These divine Words penetrated to the bottom of my Heart; renew'd my Joy, and reviv'd my Courage: I felt-none of that Horrour which makes Mens Hair stand upright, and chills the Blood in their Veins, when the Gods communicate themselves to Mortals. I rose from the Ground with Cheerfulness; I fell upon my Knees; and lifting up my Hands to Heaven, I ador'd Minerva, who, I doubted not, had sent me this Oracle. In that Moment, I found my self a new Man; Wisdom enlighten'd my Mind; I found a gentle Force re∣straining all my Passions, and check∣ing the impetuosity of my Youth. I acquir'd the Love of all the Shep∣herds in the Desert. My Patience, Sweetness and Diligence mov'd even the cruel Buffus to relent, who com∣manded the rest of the Slaves, and

had made it his Business at first to torment me. I endeavour'd to pro∣cure some Books to enable me to support the tediousness of my Cap∣tivity and Solitude; for I was ex∣ceedingly uneasy for want of some Instructions to nourish and sustain the Faculties of my Soul.

Hap∣py, said I, are they, who quit∣ting all violent Pleasures, know how to content themselves with an innocent Life. Happy are they, who are diverted with what they learn, and please themselves in en∣riching their Minds with Know∣ledge, wheresoever they are dri∣ven by the unjust Persecutions of Fortune! They carry their own Entertainment with them; and the uneasiness that lyes upon all other Men, even in the midst of the greatest Pleasures, is unknown to those, who know how to em∣ploy themselves in Reading.

These Men are truly happy, whilst I am depriv'd of this Felicity. Re∣volving these Thoughts in my Mind,

I penetrated into the thickest of the Forest, and on a sudden perceived an aged Man holding a Book in his Hand. His Forehead was large and high, unfurnish'd with Hair, and somewhat wrinkled: His white Beard descended to his Girdle: He was tall, and of a majestick Port: His Complexion was fresh and well Colour'd. His Eyes lively and piercing. His Voice sweet, and his Discourse plain, but agreable. I ne∣ver saw so venerable an old Man. His name was Termosiris. He was a Priest of Apollo, and the Temple where he serv'd was of Marble, de∣dicated to that God, and founded by the Kings of Egypt in this Fo∣rest.

He accosted me in a friendly man∣ner: We talk'd together: He rela∣ted Things past with such clearness, that they seemed present; but his Relations were always attended with brevity, and never tedious. He could predict Things future, by his profound Wisdom, which gave him

a thorough Knowledge of Men, and the Designs the are capable of forming. With all this Prudence, he was Cheerful and Complaisant; and the gayest Youth does nothing with so much Grace as this aged Man. He lov'd those that were Young, if he found them Teachable, and if they had any taste of Virtue. He soon conceiv'd a tender Affection for me, and gave me Books for my Consolation: He call'd me his Son; and I often said to him, Father, The Gods that took Mentor from me, have pitied my Solitude, and sent me in You another support. This Man like Orpheus or Linus was doubt∣less inspir'd by the Gods.

He would sometimes read to me the Verses he had made, and give me the most excellent Compositions of those Poets, who had been the principal Favourites of the Muses.

When he put on his long Robes of the purest White, and took his golden Harp in his Hand, the Ty∣gers,

the Bears and the Lyons came to lye down by him, and lick'd his Feet. The Satyrs abandon'd the Woods to come and Dance about him. The Trees themselves seem'd to move; and you would have thought that the Rocks had been touch'd with the Charms of his sweet Accents, and were going to descend from the tops of the Mountains. He sung the Grandeur of the Gods, the Virtue of Hero's, and the Wis∣dom of those who prefer Glory be∣fore Pleasure.

He often told me that I ought to take Courage, and that the Gods would not abandon either Ulysses or his Son. He exhorted me to imi∣tate Apollo, and perswade the Shep∣herds to apply themselves to the Muses. Apollo, said he, consider∣ing with Indignation, that the brightest Days were frequently di∣sturb'd by Jupiter's Thunder, re∣solv'd to be reveng'd upon the Cy∣clops, who made the Bolts, took up his Bow, and pierc'd them with

his Arrows. Upon this, Mount Et∣na ceas'd to vomit Cylinders of Fire; and Men no longer heard the ter∣rible Hammers striking upon the Anvil, and ecchoing in Groans from the Abysses of Earth and Sea. The Iron and the Brass abandon'd by the Cyclopes began to rust. Vulcan in Fury quits his dreadful Forge, and notwithstanding his Lameness, mounts Olympus with Expedition; comes cover'd with black Dust and Sweat into the Assembly of the Gods, and makes a most bitter Com∣plaint. Jupiter, incens'd against Apollo, drove him from Heaven, and precipitated him down to the Earth. His empty Chariot perform'd the usual course of it self, and gave Men Night and Day, with a regular change of Seasons. Apollo depriv'd of his glorious Beams, was forced to turn Shepherd, and keep the Sheep of King Admetus. He plaid upon the Flute, and all the other Shepherds came down to the shady Elms and silver Streams to hear his

Songs. To that time they had liv'd a savage and brutal Life: They knew only how to guide their Flocks, to sheer them, to draw their Milk, and to make Cheeses: The whole Country was one frightful Desert.

Apollo in a short time made all the Shepherds acquainted with the Pleasures of a rural Life. He sung the Flowers that compose the Gar∣land of the Spring; the beautiful Greens, and the sweet Perfumes of that agreeable Season. He sung the delicious Nights of Summer, when the Zephyrs refresh Mankind, and the Dews ally the Thirst of the Earth. He forgot not in his Songs the golden Harvest and autumnal Fruits, which recompence the Toil of the Husbandman; nor the Re∣creations of Winter, when the wan∣ton Youth dance before the glowing Fire. He represented the Groves and shady Forests that cover the Hills; the hollow Vallies, and the Rivers that wind themselves about the lovely Meadows. He taught

the Shepherds what are the Charms of a Country Life, when Men know how to relish the Presents of pure and uncorrupted Nature. The Shep∣herds with their Flutes soon saw themselves more happy than Kings, and their Cottages were fill'd with variety of innocent Pleasures, no where to be found in guilded Pa∣laces. Harmless Sports, unaffected Graces, and innocent Joys, accom∣panied the Shepherdesses whereso∣ever they went.

Every Day was a Festival: No∣thing was heard but the Singing of Birds, or the soft whispering of the Zephyrs, as they were playing about the Branches of the Trees, or the murmur of Waters falling from the Rocks, or Songs that were inspir'd by the Muses, and sung by the Shepherds that follow'd Apollo. This God taught them also to be victo∣rious in Races, and to pierce the Hinds and Stags with their Arrows. The Gods themselves became jealous of the Shepherds. This sort of Life

apear'd to them more ravishing than all their Glory. They call'd Apollo back again to Heaven.

My Son, This Story may serve for your Instruction, since you are in the same Condition Apollo was. Manure this uncultivated Ground; make a Desert flourish, as he did; like him, teach the Shepherds what are the Charms of Harmony; polish the roughness of their Minds; shew them the beauty of Virtue, and make them feel how sweet it is to enjoy in this Solitude those innoeent Pleasures that nothing can take a∣way from Shepherds. A Time will come, my Son, a Time will come, when the Toils and Cares that en∣compass Kings, will make you re∣gret a pastoral Life.

Termosiris having said this, pre∣sented me with a Flute, so sweet, that the Eccho's of the Hills, which carried the sound on every side, drew all the neighbouring Shep∣herds presently about me. My Voice was divinely Harmonious, I

felt my self mov'd, as by a superior Power, to sing the Beauties that Nature has bestow'd upon the Coun∣try. We pass'd the Days, and part of the Nights in Singing to∣gether. All the Shepherds forgot their Cottages and their Flocks, to stay with me whilst I gave them Lessons. The savage Rudeness of our Deserts disappear'd all Things seem'd to look Gay and Pleasant; and the politeness of the Inhabitants communicated it self to the Coun∣try. We frequently met to Sacri∣fice in the Temple of Apollo, where Termosir is officiated as Priest. The Shepherds went thither Crown'd with Lawrel, in Honour of the God. We made a Country Feast; and the most delicious of our Fare, was the Milk of our Goats and Sheep, with various Fruits, fresh gathered with our own Hands, such as Dates, Figs and Grapes: Our Seats were the green Turf, and our spreading Trees afforded us a Shade, more Pleasant than the guilded

Roofs in the Palaces of Kings. But that which above all other Things made me famous among our Shep∣herds, was, That one Day a hungry Lion fell upon my Flock; already he had begun a dreadful Slaughter; I had nothing in my Hand but my Crook, yet I advanc'd boldly. The Lion erects his Mane, gnashes his Teeth, unsheaths his dreadful Claws, and opens his parch'd and inflam'd Throat. His Eyes were full of Blood and Fire; and he lash'd his Flanks with his Tail. I took him by the Throat, and threw him up∣on the Ground. The little Coat of Mail that I wore, according to the Custom of the Egyptian Shepherds, hinder'd him from tearing my Body. Thrice I threw him upon his Back, and Thrice he rais'd himself again, roaring so loud, that he was heard through all the Forests. At last I threw him to the Ground, and Strangled him with my Hands. The Shepherds who were Witnes∣ses of my Victory, oblig'd me to

wear the Skin of this terrible Ani∣mal.

The Fame of this Action, and the wonderful alteration that had hap∣pen'd among our Shepherds, spread through Egypt, and came to the Ear of Sesostris. He was inform'd that one of the two Captives, who had been taken for Phenicians, had restor'd the Golden Age to his in∣hospitable Deserts. He resolved to see me, for he lov'd the Muses; and his great Soul was affected with whatsoever might be useful to Man∣kind. He saw me; he heard me with Pleasure, and discover'd that Metophis had deceiv'd him through Covetousness. He condemn'd him to a perpetual Prison, and siez'd his Riches, which he unjustly pof∣sess'd.

O! said he, how unhap∣py is the Man, who is placed above the rest of Men! He can seldom see the Truth with his own Eyes: He is surrounded by those who keep the Truth from approaching him: Their Inte∣rest

leads them to deceive him Every one conceals his Ambition under the appearance of Zeal. They pretend to love the King; but indeed love only the Riches he can give. Nay, they love him so little, that to obtain his Favours, they flatter and betray him.

From this time Sesostris treated me with a tender Friendship; and resolved to send me back to Ithaca, with a powerful assistance of Ships and Troops, to deliver Penelope from the Persecutions of her Lovers. The Fleet was ready, and we thought of nothing but Embarking. I ad∣mir'd the strange Conduct of For∣tune, to exalt those on a sudden that she has most depress'd. This Experience made me hope that Ulys∣ses might return at last to his King∣dom after all his Sufferings; and I thought it not impossible to see Men∣tor again, tho' he had been carried into the farthest parts of Ethiopia. Whilst I delay'd my departure to

inquire after him, Sesostris, who was very Aged, died suddenly, and his Death brought all my Misfortunes back upon me. All Egypt became sensible of this irreparable Loss. Every Family knew they had lost their best Friend, their Protector, their Father. The old Men lifting their Hands to Heaven, cried out with a lamentable Voice, Egypt ne∣ver had so good a King, and never will have one like him. O ye Gods, you should never have shewn him to Men, or never have taken him away: Why do we survive the Great Sesostris? The young Men said, The hopes of Egypt are va∣nished. Our Fathers were happy to live under so good a King.

Multitudes of People from the remotest Parts, came running to Thebes during sorty Days. Every one was desirous to preserve the Idea of him; and many to be bu∣ried with him. But their Grief was yet farther aggravated: For they knew that his Son Boccoris

had neither Humanity for Strangers, nor Affection for Knowledge, nor Esteem for virtuous Men, nor De∣sire of Glory. The greatness of his Father had contributed to make him unworthy to Reign. He had been educated in an effeminate Soft∣ness, and brutal Pride. He account∣ed Men as nothing, believing them made only to be his Slaves, and himself to be of a Nature different from them. He thought of nothing but how he might gratify his Pas∣sions; dissipate the vast Treasures his Father had husbanded with so much Care; oppress the People; satiate himself with the Blood of the Unfortunate, and follow the flattering Counsels of young Fools, that he kept about him, whilst he treated with the utmost Contempt all the antient Sages, who had been entrusted by his Father. In a Word, he was a Monster, and not a King. All Egypt groan'd under him; and tho' the name of Sesostris, which was so dear to the Egyptians, made

them support the base and cruel Conduct of his Son: Yet he made hast to Ruin; for 'twas impossible that a Prince so unworthy of the Throne, should Reign long.

As for me, I thought no more of returning to Ithaca: I was confin'd to a Tower that stands by the Sea near Pelusium, where I should have imbark'd, if Sesostris had not died. Metophis had been freed from his Imprisonment, and received into Favour by the new King. 'Twas he that caused my Confinement, to revenge the Disgrace I had brought upon him. I pass'd the Days and Nights in the profoundest Melan∣cholly. All the Things which Termosiris had foretold, and those that I had heard from the Cave, appear'd to me to be but Dreams. I was ready to sink under the weight of my Grief. I saw the Waves beating at the foot of the Tower where I was Prisoner. I often em∣ploy'd my time, in observing the Ships that were overtaken by Storms,

and in danger to be split against the Rocks, upon which the Tower was built. Far from pitying these Men, who were threatned with Shipwrack, I envied their Conditi∣on. In a short time, said I to my self, they will see an end of all their Misfortunes, or arrive in their own Country. But, Alas! I can hope for neither. Whilst thus I con∣sum'd away in useless Regrets, I perceiv'd as a Forest of Masts; the Sea was cover'd with Ships, and the Winds fill'd all their Sails. The Waters turn'd into a Foam under the Strokes of innumerable Oars. I heard a confus'd Noise on every side. I saw one part of the Egyp∣tians upon the Shore, terrified, and running to their Arms, whilst others seem'd going to receive the Fleet, which they saw arriving. I soon perceiv'd that part of these Ships were of Phenicia, and the rest of the Island of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 For my Misfor∣tunes began to render me experi∣enc'd in every thing that relates to

Navigation. The Egyptians were divided among themselves. And I doubted not that the foolish King, had by his Violences caused his Subjects to Revolt, and raised a Civil War. I was Spectator of a bloody Battle from the top of my Tower.

That part of the Egyptians who had invited these Foreigners to their Assistance, having favour'd their Descent, fell upon the other Egyptians, who had the King at their Head. I saw this King en∣couraging his Men by his own Example. He appear'd like the God of Battle. Streams of Blood ran down by his side. The Wheels of his Charriot were died with black, thick and foaming Gore, and could hardly move, for the numbers of dead Men that lay in the way. This young King, vigorous of Bo∣dy, fierce and haughty in his Looks, had Rage and Despair painted on his Face. He was like a beautiful Horse that has no Mouth. His

Courage push'd him on to Danger; but he had no prudence to mode∣rate his Valour. He knew neither how to repair a Fault, nor to give the necessary Orders, nor to foresee the Dangers that threatned, nor to manage his Men to the best Advan∣tage. 'Twas not, that he wanted Understanding; his Quickness was as great as his Courage; but he had never been instructed by Ad∣versity. His Masters had poison'd his good Nature with their Flat∣tery: He was drunk with his own Power and Felicity: He thought every thing must yield to his im∣petuous Desires. The least Resi∣stance put him into a Rage: He consulted his Reason no longer; his Pride transform'd him into a Savage Beast; his natural Good∣ness forsook him in an instant; the most faithful of his Servants were forc'd to fly from him, and he con∣sider'd none but those who flatter'd his Passions. By this means he al∣ways 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into Extremities, against

his true Interest, and made all ho∣nest Men detest his foolish Con∣duct. His Valour sustained him for a long time against the multi∣tude of his Enemies; but at last he was born down with Numbers. I saw him perish; the Arrow of a Phenician pierc'd his Breast: He sunk down in his Chariot, and not being able to hold the Reins any longer, he was overthrown and trampled under Foot by the Hor∣ses. A Soldier of Cyprus cut off his Head, and holding it up by the Hair, shew'd it in Triumph to the victorious Army. I shall ever re∣member, that I saw the Head smear'd with Blood; the Eyes shut and extinguish'd; the Face pale and disfigur'd; the Mouth half open, and attempting to finish some Words it had begun, a fierce and menacing Air, which Death it self could not efface. This sight will be always before my Eyes to the last day of my Life. And if ever the Gods permit me to Reign, I

Shall never forget, after this fatal Example,

That no King is wor∣thy to Command, or can be hap∣py in the Possession of his Pow∣er, unless he himself be govern'd by Reason; and that 'tis the ut∣most of all Misfortunes for a Man, who is created for the Publick Good, to govern vast Numbers of Men only to render himself miserable.

Calypso heard with Astonishment these wise Reflections: And that which charm'd her the most, was, to see how the young Telemachus ingeniously related the Faults he had committed, either through Pre∣cipitation, or want of Docility for the sage Mentor. She was surpris'd with the greatness and generosity of his Mind; who accused himself, and made so good use of his own Imprudences, to become Wise, Sa∣gacious and Moderate. Continue, said she, my dear Telemachus; I long to know how you left Egypt, and where you found the wise Men∣tor,

whose Loss was so sensible to you.

Telemachus resuming his Dis∣course, said; The best of the Egyp∣tians, who were most faithful to the King, finding themselves over∣power'd, and the King dead, were compell'd to submit to the rest; and another King called **** was establish'd. The Phenicians and the Troops of Cyprus departed from Egypt, after they had made an Al∣liance with the new King. All the Phenicians that were Prisoners, were set at Liberty, and I was ac∣counted one of them. I departed from the Court; I imbark'd with the rest, and my Hopes began to revive in the bottom of my Heart. Already a favourable Wind fill'd our Sails; our Oars cut the foam∣ing Waves; the vast Sea was co∣ver'd with our Ships; the Mari∣ners shouted for Joy; the Shoars of Egypt 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from us; the Hills and Mountains diminished; we began to see nothing but the Heavens and

the Waters, whilst the Sun sur∣rounded with sparkling Flames, seem'd to rise from the bosom of the Sea; his Rays guilded the tops the Mountains, which we could still discover upon the Horizon, and the whole face of Heaven painted with a sable Azur, gave us Hopes of a happy Naviga∣tion.

Tho' I had been set at Liberty, as one of the Phenicians; yet none of them knew who I was. Narbal, who commanded the Ship that car∣ried me, ask'd me my Name and my Country. Of what City, said he, in Phenicia are you? I am not a Pheni∣cian, said I; but the Egyptians took me at Sea in a Phenician Ship. I have been a long time Prisoner in Egypt as a Phenician; under that Name I have suffer'd, and under that Name I am deliver'd. Of what Country art thou then, said Nar∣bal? I am, said I, Telemachus, Son to Ulysses King of Ithaca in Greece. My Father made himself famous

among the Kings, who beseig'd the City of Troy; but the Gods have not permitted him to return to his Country. I have sought him in many Climates, and Fortune Persecutes me also. You see an unfortunate Person, who desires no other Happiness than to return to his Country, and to find his Fa∣ther. Narbal look'd upon me with Astonishment, and thought he saw in my Face some Marks of Hap∣piness, that proceed from the fa∣vour of Heaven, and are not in the rest of Men. He was by Na∣ture sincere and generous. He was mov'd with my Misfortunes; and put a confidence in me, that the Gods inspir'd him with, for my Preservation.

Telemachus, said he, I doubt not the Truth of what you say, nei∣ther can I doubt: The lively Ima∣ges of Grief and Virtue drawn up∣on your Face, will not give me leave to distrust you. I perceive that the Gods which I have al∣ways

serv'd, love you, and will have me to love you, as if you were my Son. I will give you safe and useful Advice, and for my Recompence desire nothing of you but Silence. Fear not, said I, for I can without difficulty keep any thing secret that you shall trust to my Discretion. Tho' I am young; yet I have grown up in the Habit of not discovering my own Secret, and much more of not betraying under any pretext the Secret of another. How have you been able, said he, to accu∣stom your self to keep Secrets in such tender years. I shall be glad to know, by what means you have acquir'd this admirable Qua∣lity, which is the Foundation of the wisest Conduct, and without which all other Talents are Use∣less.

When Ulysses, said I, departed to assist in the Siege of Troy, he took me upon his Knees and em∣brac'd me (for thus I have been

told the Story) and after he had kiss'd me in the tenderest manner, he said these Words to me, tho' I could not then understand them.

O my Son! may the Gods pre∣vent me from ever seeing thee again; let rather the fatal Scis∣sars cut the Thread of thy early Days, as the Reaper cuts down with his Sicle the tender Flower that begins to blow; let my Enemies dash thee in pieces be∣fore the Eyes of thy Mother and Me, if ever thou art to be Corrupted, and to relinquish the Ways of Virtue. O! my Friends, continued he, I leave my dear Son with you; take care of his tender years; if you love me, banish all Pernicious Flattery from about him; in∣struct him how to overcome his Passions, and let him be like a tender Plant, that Men often bend in order to make it grow upright. Above all, forget not to render him Just, Benificent,

Sincere, and faithful in keeping a Secret. Whoever is guilty of a Lie, is unworthy to be ac∣counted a Man; and whoever knows not how to be Silent, is unworthy to govern.

I am exact in the Repetition of these Words; because care was taken to inculcate them often into me. My Father's Friends made it their Business to exercise me early in keeping Secrets. I was yet in my Infancy, when they trusted me with all the Troubles they sustained, to see my Mother expos'd to the Persecutions of so many that pretended to marry her. Already they treated me as a Man of Reason and Fidelity. They entertain'd me privately of the most important Affairs, and acquainted me with all the mea∣sures they took to expel the Pre∣tenders.

I was over-joy'd to be trusted in this manner; I never abus'd the confidence repos'd in me; I never

let fall one single Word, that might discover the least Secret. The Pretenders often endeavour'd to make me talk, expecting that a Child, who had seen or heard any thing of Importance, would not have been able to conceal it. But I knew how to answer them with∣out lying, and without informing them of any thing that I ought not to discover.

Upon this, Narbal said to me; You see, Telemachus, the Power of the Phenicians. They are formida∣ble to all their Neighbours by their numerous Fleets. The Trade they drive as far as the Columns of Her∣cules, furnishes them with Riches surpassing all those of the most flourshing Nations. The great Se∣sostris, who could never have sub∣dued them by Sea, did with great difficulty defeat them by Land with those Armies that had con∣quer'd all the East, and impos'd a Tribute upon us, which has not continued long.

The Phenicians found themselves too Rich and too Potent, to wear the Yoak of Servitude with Pati∣ence. Sesostris was prevented by Death from finishing the War a∣gainst us. 'Tis true, we had rea∣son to fear the Event, and that much more on account of his wisdom than his Power. But as soon as his Power, without his Wisdom, had pass'd into the Hands of his Son, we concluded we had no more to fear.

In effect, the Egyptians have been so far from returning in Arms to make an intire Conquest of our Country, that they have been con∣strain'd to call us to their Assi∣stance to deliver them from the Fury of an impious and outragious King. We have been their Deli∣verers, and have added the glory of this Action to the Liberty and Riches of our Country. But whilst we deliver others, we our selves are Slaves. O Telemachus, beware of

falling into the cruel Hands of Pyg∣malion our King. He has already died them in the Blood of Sicheus, his Sister Dido's Husband. Dido, full of Horror and Revenge, is fled from Tyre with many Ships. Most of those who are best affected to Liberty and Virtue have attended her. She has founded a Magnifi∣cent City upon the Coast of Africk, and called it Carthage. Pygmalion, tormented with and insatiable Thirst of Wealth, renders himself every day more wretched, and odious to all his Subjects. 'Tis a Crime at Tyre to be Rich. His Avarice fills him with Suspicion, Distrust and Cruelty. He persecutes the Weal∣thy, and fears the Poor. Every thing disturbs him, affrights him, preys upon him. He trembles at his own Shadow; he sleeps neither by Night nor by Day. The Gods, to confound him, load him with Treasures which he dares not en∣joy. The things he covets to

make him happy, are precisely those that make him miserable. He regrets whatever he gives; dreads to loose, and torments him∣self with Hopes of Gain. He is seldom seen. He shuts himself up in the remotest parts of his Palace, sad, alone, disconsolate. His Friends dare not approach him, for fear of being suspected. A Guard, terri∣ble to see, stands round his House, with Swords drawn, and erected Pikes. Thirty Chambers on a Floar, with Doors of Iron, and six massy Bolts upon each, make up the dreadful Apartment, where he hides himself. No one ever knows in which of these Chambers he lies. 'Tis said, he never lies in any of them two Nights together, for fear his Throat should be cut.

He knows no sweet Enjoyments, nor the sweeter Effects of Friend∣ship. If any one speak to him of Joy, he finds it will not come near him, and refuses to enter into his Heart.

His hollow Eyes are full of a fierce and savage Fire, incessantly row∣ling on every side. He is mov'd at the least Noise; he hearkens at∣tentively; becomes pale and de∣jected; and anxious Care sits pi∣ctur'd upon his wrinkled Face. He sighs; is silent, and groans from the bottom of his Heart. He is unable to conceal the Remorse that rends his Soul. He relishes not the most delicious Food. His Chil∣dren, instead of being the Hopes of his Age, are the Subjects of his Fear. He looks upon them as his most dangerous Enemies. He ne∣ver thought himself secure one Mo∣ment of his Life. He preserves himself only by shedding the Blood of every one he fears.

Foolish Man! who sees not, that his Cruelty which he so much re∣lies upon, will be his Destruction. Some Domestick Servant, as suspi∣cious as he, will soon deliver the World from this Monster.

As for me, I fear the Gods, and will be faithful to the King they have given me, whatever it cost. I had rather die, than take away his Life, or fail to defend him. For your part, O Telemachus, ac∣quaint him not that you are the Son of Ulysses; for he would make you a Prisoner, in expectation of a great Ransom, when Ulysses returns to Ithaca.

When we arriv'd at Tyre, I fol∣low'd his Counsel, and found eve∣ry thing he had said to be true. I could not comprehend how a Man could make himself so miserable as Pygmalion appear'd to be. Sur∣priz'd with a thing so astonishing, and so new to me, I said thus to my self. This Man design'd to be happy, and perswaded himself, that Riches and Arbitrary Power would make him so. He do's what he will, and yet is made miserable even by that Power and those Ri∣ches. If he were a Shepherd as I

lately was, he would be as happy as I have been: He would en∣joy the innocent Pleasures of the Country, and would enjoy them without Remorse. He would not fear either Dagger or Poison. He would love Men, and be belov'd by them. He would not indeed be Possessor of those vast Treasures, which are as useless to him as Sand, since he dares not touch them; but he would really enjoy the Fruits of the Earth, and suffer no manner of want.

This Man seems to do whatever pleases him; but the Case is far otherwise, for he does all that his Passions command. He is compel∣led to follow, wheresoever his Co∣vetousness and Suspicions lead. He seems to be Master of all o∣ther Men; but he is not Master of himself, and has as many Masters and Tormenters as he has violent Desires.

Thus I reason'd concerning Pyg∣malion without seeing him; for he was not to be seen. Men only see those lofty Towers, that are sur∣rounded Night and Day with dreadful Guards, where he shuts himself up as it were in Prison with his beloved Treasures. I compar'd this invisible King with Sesostris, who was so good, so ea∣sie of Access, so Affable, so ready to hear any Stranger, so attentive in giving Audience to all Men, and to find out the Truth which is always conceal'd from Kings. The good Sesostris, said I, feard nothing, and had nothing to fear. He shew'd himself to all his Sub∣jects as to his own Children. This Man fears all, and has all to fear. This wicked King is always ex∣pos'd to the danger of a violent Death, even within his inaccessible Palace, and in the midst of his Guards. On the contrary, the good King Sesostris was always safe in

the midst of the greatest Numbers of his People, as a gentle Father in his own House with all his Fami∣ly about him.

Pygmalion gave orders to send home the Forces of Cyprus, who came to his Assistance by virtue of an Alliance that was between the two Nations. Narbal took this Occasion to set me at Liberty. He caus'd me to be muster'd among the Cyprian Soldiers; for the King was jealous to the last degree. The usual defect of easie and thought∣less Princes is, to deliver themselves up to the Conduct of crafty and corrupt Ministers. On the other side, the defect of this Man was to distrust the most Virtuous. He knew not how to distinguish Men of Probity and Uprightness, who always act without Disguise. He had never seen an honest Man; for such will never flatter a cor∣rupted King.

Besides, he had found in all those who had serv'd him since his Ac∣cession to the Crown, so much Dis∣simulation and Perfidiousness, with so many horrid Vices disguis'd, and only the bare Appearances of Vir∣tue, that he look'd upon all Men without Exception, as living un∣der a Mask, and concluded there was no real Virtue in the World.

But to return to my self: I pass'd in the Muster for a Cyprian, and escap'd the watchful Jealousie of the King. Narbal trembled for fear I should be discover'd, which would have cost his Life and mine also. He was under great impa∣tience to see us imbark'd; but contrary Winds detained us at Tyre.

I made use of this time to inform my self of the Manners of the Phe∣nicians, so famous in all parts of of the known World. I admir'd the happy Situation of their City,

which is built upon an Island of the Sea. The Neighbouring Coast is delicious and fruitful, abounding in exquisite Fruits, and so cover'd with Towns and Villages, that they seem to touch one another. The Air is sweet and temperate; for the Mountains shelter that Coast from the scorching Winds which come from the South. The Country is every where refresh'd by the North Wind that blows from the Sea. It lies at the foot of Mount Libanus, which pier∣ces through the Clouds, and ad∣vances to meet the Stars. His Forehead is cover'd with an eter∣nal Ice; and Rivers mingled with Snow, fall down like Torrents from the Rocks that surround his Head.

A vast Forest of ancient Cedars stands near the top, which appear as old as the Earth on which they grow, and shoot their spreading Branches to the Clouds. Under

this Forest are rich Pastures, lean∣ing on the descent of the Moun∣tain. Here one may see the bel∣lowing Bulls wandering up and down, and the bleating Yews with their tender Lambs bounding upon the Grass. A thousand Streams of the Clearest Water runs down these charming Fields.

Below these Pastures is the foot of the Mountain, which appears like a Garden on every side. Here Spring and Autumn reign together, and join the Fruits of the one to the Flowers of the other. Neither the infected Breath of the South Wind, that parches and burns up all, or the cruel Blasts of the North∣East, have ever dared to deface the lively Colours that adorn this Gar∣den. Hard by this beautiful Coast, an Island rises in the Sea, where the City of Tyre is built. This great City seems to float upon the Waters, and to be Queen of all the Sea. The Merchants arrive

from all parts of the World; and its own Inhabitants are the most famous Marchants of the Uni∣verse.

When Men enter into this City, they cannot think it to be a Place belonging to a particular People, but rather to be a City common to all Nations, and the Center of all Trade. Two great Mole's ad∣vancing their Arms into the Sea, embrace a vast Port where the Winds cannot enter. In this Har∣bour one may see, as it were a Forest of Masts; and the Ships are so numerous that the Sea which carries them can hardly be discover'd

All the Citizens apply themselves to Commerce, and their vast Riches never divert them from that Labour which is necessary to increase their Treasure. In every part of the City one may see the fine Linnen of Egypt, and Tyrian Purple, twice died, and of a noble Lustre. This

double Tincture is so lively, as not to be defaced by Time. 'Tis used upon the finest Cloth, which is to be garnished with Gold and Silver. The Phenicians maintain a Trade with all People as far as the Straits of Gades. Nay, they have pene∣trated into the vast Ocean that en∣compasses the Earth. They have made long Voyages upon the Red Sea, and visited unknown Islands, from whence they bring Gold, and all sorts of Perfumes, with vari∣ous Animals no where else to be seen.

I could not satiate my Eyes with the sight of this great City, where every thing was in Motion. I did not see, as in the Islands of Greece, idle and inquisitive Persons, going about to hear News in the publick Places, and to gaze upon Strangers as they arrive in the Ports. The Men are employ'd in unloading their Ships; sending home their Goods; putting their Magazines in order;

selling their Marchandise, and keep∣ing an exact Account of what is due to them from Foreigners. The Women are always busy in spinning of Wool, in folding up the richest Stuffs, and in various Works of Em∣broidery.

Whence comes it, said I to Nar∣bal, that the Phenicians are Masters of the Trade in all parts of the World, and enrich themselves at the expense of all other Nations? You see, said he, the situation of Tyre, how conveniently it lies for Navigation. The Tyrians were the first (if we may believe what is told us concerning obscure Anti∣quity) who in a feeble Ship durst commit themselves to the mercy of the Waves; who subdued the Pride of the Sea; who observ'd the Stars, that are so far from the Earth, ac∣cording to the Knowledge they had learnt from the Egyptians and Ba∣bylonians, and who by these means reunited so many People, that the

Sea seem'd to have separated for ever. The Tyrians are Industri∣ous, Patient, Laborious, Sober and Frugal; exact in their Civil Go∣vernment, and united among them∣selves. No Nation has ever been more constant, more sincere, more faithful, more honest, and more kind to Strangers. These, these are the Things that have given them the Empire of the Sea, and all the Advantages of Trade. If they should fall into Divisions and Jea∣lousies; if they should emasculate themselves with Pleasures and Idle∣ness; if the principal Citizens should come to despise Labour and Fruga∣lity; if Arts should cease to be ac∣counted Honorable; if they should violate their Faith with Strangers, and transgress, tho' but a little, the rules of free Trade, you would soon see the ruin of that Power you ad∣mire.

But pray, said I, instruct me how I may hereafter establish the like

Commerce in Ithaca. Do, said he, as you see done here: Receive all Stran∣gers kindly; let them find safety in your Ports, with Conveniency, and intire Liberty. Suffer not your self to be possess'd with Covetous∣ness or Pride. The true way to gain much, is never to desire to gain too much, and to know how and when to lose: Acquire the love of all Strangers, and suffer small Wrongs from them. Beware of exciting their Suspicions by insolent Behaviour. Be constant to the rules of Trade: Let them be plain and easy: Accustom your self to observe them inviolably: Punish Fraud with Severity: Correct the Negligence and Pride of Marchants, who ruin Trade by ruining them∣selves, that carry it on: Above all, never go about to restrain Trade, or govern it by your own Fancy. The Prince must not intermedle with it, for fear of discouraging his People, who as they have the Pains,

ought to have the Profit. He will find sufficient Advantages by the vast Riches that will be brought into his Kingdom. Commerce is like certain Springs; if you force them to alter their Course, you dry them up.

'Tis only Profit and Conveniency that invites Strangers. If you ren∣der their Trade uneasy and of little Benefit, they insensibly withdraw themselves and return no more; because other Nations taking ad∣vantage of your Imprudence, in∣vite 'em thither, and accustom them to live without you. I must own that for some time past the Glory of Tyre has been sadly diminish'd. O! if you had seen it, my dear Te∣lemachus, before the Reign of Pyg∣malion, you would have been much more surpris'd. You find only the dismal remains of a Grandeur that threatens Ruin.

Ounhappy Tyre! into what Hands art thou fallen? The Sea former∣ly

brought thee the Tribute of all the Nations in the World. Pygma∣lion is afraid of all, both Strangers and Subjects. Instead of opening his Ports with an intire liberty to all People however remote, he re∣quires constantly to be inform'd, what number of Ships arrive, and from what Country; the Names of the Men on board, the Trade they drive, the nature and price of their Marchandise, and the time they design to stay. He do's yet worse; for he uses all manner of Artifices to surprise the Marchants, and to confiscate their Goods: He contrives to ensnare the most weal∣thy under various pretences. He burdens the Trade with innume∣rable Imposts: He will be a Mar∣chant himself, and all Men are afraid to deal with him.

Thus our Commerce languishes: Foreigners by degrees forget the way to Tyre, which was once so agreeable to them; and if Pygma∣lion

will not alter his Conduct, our Glory and our Power must in a short time be transported to some other People, who are better go∣verned, than we are.

I then demanded of Narbal, by what means the Tyrians had render'd themselves so powerful at Sea: For I was not willing to be Ignorant of any thing that might contribute to the good Government of a Kingdom. We have, said he, the Forests of Libanus, which furnish us with Timber for the building of Ships, and we preserve them with Care for that use. They are never cut but for the publick Service. We have numbers of skilful Workmen, who perfectly understand the Ar∣chitecture of a Ship. How came you, said I, to find these excellent Artists.

They grew up, said he, by degrees in the Country. When those who excel in Arts are liberally rewarded, Men will quickly be found, who shall car∣ry

them to the utmost perfection. For Men of the best Talents and Understanding, never fail to ap∣ply themselves to those Arts that are attended with the greatest Recompences.

In this City we honour all such Persons as succeed in any of those Arts and Sciences which are useful to Navigation. We respect a Man that understands Geometry; we esteem an able Astronomer, and bountifully reward a Pilot who surpasses the rest of his Profession. We despise not a good Carpenter: On the contrary, he is well paid, and well used. Men dextorous at the Oar, are sure of a Reward pro∣portion'd to their Service. They are fed with wholsome Provisions; they are carefully attended when they are Sick; care is taken of their Wives and Children in their ab∣sence; if they perish by Shipwrack, their Family is indemnified; every Man is sent home to his Habita∣tion

after he has serv'd a cortain Time.

By these means the Tyrians have as many Seamen as they will. Fa∣thers are glad, to bring up their Children in so good an Employ∣ment, and hasten to teach them in their tender Years to handle an Oar, manage the Tacle, and scorn a Storm.

These Rewards and this good Order leads Men to be useful to the Publick without compulsion:

Au∣thority never do's well alone; the submission of Inferiors is not enough; their Hearts must be won, and they ought to find their own Account in serving the State.

After this Discourse Narbal con∣ducted me to see all the Magazines; the Arsenal, and the several Trades that serve for the building and equip∣ping of Ships. I inquir'd into all particulars, even to the minutest Things, and wrote down all that I

had learnt, for fear of forgetting any useful Circumstance.

In the mean time Narbal, who knew Pygmalion as well as he lov'd me, was impatient for my depar∣ture, fearing I might be discover'd by the King's Spies, who were about the Town Day and Night; but the Winds would not yet permit us to imbark. One Day as we stood viewing the Port, an Officer of Pyg∣malion came up to us, and said to Narbal, The King is just now in∣form'd by a Captain of one of those Ships which return'd with you from Egypt, that you have brought a cer∣tain Stranger who passes for a Cypri∣an. 'Tis the King's Pleasure to have him siez'd and examin'd, that he may know who he is. And for this You are to answer with your Head.

In that Moment I was at some distance from Narbal, in order to take a nearer view of the Propor∣tions which the Tyrians had observ'd

in building a Ship, that was then almost new, and accounted by rea∣son of this exact Proportion of all its Parts, the best Sailor that had ever been seen in the Harbour. I ask'd the Builder, who he was that had form'd the design of that Ship.

Narbal surpris'd and terrified with this Message, answer'd; I my self am now looking for this Stranger, who is of Cyprus. As soon as the Officer was gone out of his sight, he run to me, and inform'd me of the Danger I was in. I too well foresaw, said he, what would hap∣pen; my dear Telemachus, we are lost; the King tormented Night and Day with his Fears, suspects you not to be a Cyprian. He will have you siez'd, and will take away my Life, if I do not put you into his Hands: What shall we do? O God! Give us Wisdom, to deliver our selves from this Danger. I'le bring you to the King's Palace, where you

shall affirm that you are a Cyprian of the City of Amathus, and Son to a Statuary of Venus. I will declare that I formerly knew your Father; and perhaps the King may let you depart without farther Examination. I see no other way to save your Life and mine. I answer'd, O Narbal, suffer me to perish since Fate has decreed my Destruction. I know how to dye, and am too much in∣debted to you, to draw you into my Misfortune. I cannot perswade my self to speak a Lye; I am not a Cyprian; I cannot say that I am. The Gods see my Sincerity; It be∣longs to them to preserve my Life by their Power. But I will not save it by a Falshood.

Narbal answer'd me, This Fals∣hood, O Telemachus, is in all respects Innocent. It cannot be disapprov'd by the Gods; it do's no injury to any one; It saves the Lives of two innocent Persons, and deceives the King, only to prevent him from

committing a great Crime. You carry the love of Virtue too far, and are too nice an observer of Truth.

But said I, Falshood is Falshood still; and on that account unwor∣thy of a Man, who speaks in the Presence of the Gods, and owes the highest reverence to Truth. He that offends the Truth, offends the Gods, and injures himself, be∣cause he speaks against his Consci∣ence. Propose no more, O Narbal, that which is unworthy of us both. If the Gods have any pity for us, they know how to deliver us. But if they suffer us to perish, we shall fall the Victims of Truth, and leave an Example to instruct Men to pre∣fer unblemish'd Virtue before long Life. My own is already too long, and too unhappy. 'Tis you alone, my dear Narbal, that grieve my Heart: Was it necessary that your Kindness to an unfortunate Stran∣ger should prove so fatal to you?

We continued long in this kind of Dispute; till at last we saw a Man quite out of Breath running towards us. He was one of the King's Officers, and sent to Nar∣bal by Astarb'e. This Woman was beautiful as a Goddess: The Charms of her Face were attended by the finest Wit. She was Gay, Insi∣nuating, Flattering; and under the appearance of Gentleness, she co∣ver'd a Heart fill'd with Malice and Cruelty. Yet she knew how to conceal her Designs with the pro∣foundest Art. She had conquer'd the Heart of Pygmalion by her Wit and Beauty, and by the Charms of her Voice and Lute: And Pygma∣lion blind with Love, had aban∣don'd Tapha, his legitimate Wife.

He thought of nothing so much, as how to content the Passions of the ambitious Astarbe. The love of this Woman was little less per∣nicious to him than his infamous Covetousness. But tho' he had so

great a Passion for Her, she de∣spis'd and loath'd him in her Heart; yet understood so well how to cover her private Sentiments, that she seemed to live only for him.

At the same time that she had these Thoughts of Pygmalion, there was in Tyre a young Lydian, called Malachon, of admirable Beauty, but Voluptuous, Effeminate and drown'd in Pleasures. His chief Business was to preserve the delicacy of his Complexion; to comb his Hair that fell down in Curls upon his Shoulders; to Perfume; to Dress nicely; to sing amorous Songs, and play upon the Lute. She lov'd him, and became furiously transported with her Passion. He despis'd her, because he was in Love with ano∣ther Woman: And besides, he dreaded to expose himself to the cruel jealousy of the King. Astarbe finding she was scorn'd, abandon'd her self to Resentment. In her De∣spair she imagined it possible to

make Malachon pass for the Stranger that the King had demanded of Narbal. In effect she soon perswa∣ded Pygmalion as she desired, and corrupted all those who were able to undeceive him. For having no Affection for virtuous Men, whom he neither knew nor valued, he was always surrounded by such on∣ly as were full of Artifice, addicted to their Interest, and ready to exe∣cute his unjust and bloody Orders. These Men feared the Authority of Astarbe, and help'd her to deceive the King, that they might not of∣fend this haughty Woman, who intirely possess'd his Confidence.

Thus the young Malachon, tho' known by all the City to be of Crete, passed for the young Stranger that Narbal had brought from Egypt. He was siez'd, and sent away to Prison. Astarbe, who feared Nar∣bal might go to the King, and dis∣cover her Imposture, had dispatch'd this Officer in hast, and commanded

him to say these Words: Astarbe forbids you to discover your Strang∣er to the King; she requires nothing of you but Silence, and promises to satisfy him concerning you. In the mean time take care that the young Stranger, who came with you from Egypt, may imbark among the Cyprians with all expedition, and be no longer seen in the City. Narbal overjoy'd to save his own Life and mine, promised to be si∣lent; and the Officer pleas'd that he had obtain'd what he demanded, immediately return'd to Astarbé with an account of his Commission.

Narbal and I admir'd the good∣ness of the Gods, who had reward∣ed our Sincerity, and taken such care of those who had hazarded all for the sake of Virtue. We reflect∣ed with Horror upon a King gi∣ven up to Voluptuousness and Ava∣rice. He deserves to be deceiv'd, said we, who dreads it so excessive∣ly: And he is so most frequently

and grosly; for he trusts not Men of Honesty, but abandons himself to Villains. He is the only Person who knows nothing of what is do∣ing.

See how Pygmalion is made the scorn of an immodest Woman; whilst the Gods make use of wick∣ed Men to save the Good, who chuse to part with Life rather than deceive. As we were ma∣king these Reflexions, we perceiv∣ed the Wind to turn, and be∣come favourable to the Cyprian Fleet.

The Gods declare themselves, said Narbal; they resolve to take care of your fafety, my dear Tele∣machus. Fly from this unfortunate, accursed Land. Happy he, that could follow you to the remotest parts of the Earth! Happy, who might live and dye with you! But my cruel Fate ties me to my un∣happy Country. I must suffer with her, and perhaps be buried in her

Ruins. No matter, provided I may always speak the Truth, and my Heart love nothing but Justice. As for you, O my dear Telemachus, I pray the Gods, who lead you as it were by the Hand, to grant you the most precious of all their Gifts, a pure and unblemish'd Virtue to the last Moment of your Life. Live; return to Ithaca; comfort Penelope; deliver her from the Persecutions of her Lovers. May your Eyes see, and your Arms embrace the wise Ulysses; and may he find in you a Son equal to him in Wisdom. But in the midst of your Felicity remem∣ber the unhappy Narbal, and con∣tinue always to love me.

When he finish'd these Words, my Tears run down so fast, that I was not able to answer him: My Sighs, which I drew from the bot∣tom of my Heart, would not suf∣fer me to speak: We embrac'd in Silence: He brought me to the Ship. He staid upon the Shoar;

and when the Vessel put off, we continued to look upon each other as long as we could.

Calypso, who all this while had hearkn'd with the utmost Attention and Pleasure to the Adventures of Telemachus, interrupted the pursuit of his Narration, that she might perswade him to take some Rest. 'Tis time, said she, after so many Toils to taste the sweetness of Sleep: In this place you have nothing to fear: All that's here is favorable to you: Abandon your Heart to Joy and Tranquility, and receive the Favours of the Gods. To Morrow, when Aurora has open'd the golden Gates of the East with her rosy Fin∣gers, and the Horses of the Sun springing from the briny Main, spread the Flames of Light, and drive away the Stars before 'em, we will resume the History of your Misfortunes, my dear Telemachus. No, your Father never equal'd you in Wisdom and Courage. Achilles,

who conquer'd Hector; Theseus, who return'd from Hell; the great Alcides himself, who deliver'd the World from Monsters, never shew'd so much Constancy and Virtue. May the softest and profoundest Sleep make the Night seem short to you. But alas! how tedious will it be to me? How I shall long to see you again? To hear your Voice; to make you to repeat what I know already, and to ask you what I know not? Go my dear Telemachus, with the wise Mentor, whom the Favour of the Gods has restor'd to you; go into the Grotto, where every thing is prepar'd for your Repose: May Morpheus shed the sweetest of his Charms upon your falling Eyelids; May he infuse a divine Vapour through all your wearied Limbs, and send you easy Dreams, which hovering about you may flatter your Senses with the most delight∣ful Images, and chase away what∣ever

might disturb your Rest, or awaken you too soon.

The Goddess brought Telemachus to the Grotto, which was separated from her own, but not less agrea∣ble, nor less rustick. A Fountain of liquid Christal ran down in one corner, and sweetly murmuring seem'd contriv'd to invite Sleep. The Nymphs had prepared two Beds compos'd of the softest Greens, and had cover'd them with two large Skins, the one of a Lyon for Telemachus, the other of a Bear for Mentor.

Before Slumber had clos'd their Eyes, Mentor spoke thus to Telema∣chus. The pleasure of relating your Adventures has carried you too far; you have charm'd the Goddess with the History of those Dangers, from which your Courage and Industry have deliver'd you. By this means you have added to the Flames of her Heart, and are preparing for your self a most dangerous Capti∣vity.

How can you hope she should suffer you to depart from her Island; you, who have charm'd her with the relation of your Story? Affecta∣tion of vain Glory has induc'd you to talk without Prudence. When will you be wife enough, O Tele∣machus, never to speak with Vani∣ty; and when will you know how to conceal what may commend you, if it be not fit to be said? Others admire your Wisdom at such Years as may want it without blame. But for me, I can forgive you no∣thing; I alone know, and love you enough to tell you of all your Faults, How far do you yet come short of your Father's wisdom? But, said Telemachus, could I refuse to relate my Misfortunes to Calypso? No, replied Mentor, 'twas absolutely ne∣cessary: But you ought so to have related them, as might only excite her Compassion. You should have told her that you had been some∣times wandring in Deserts, then a

Prisoner in Sicily, and afterwards in Egypt. This had been enough; and all the rest has only serv'd to augment the Poison, that has al∣ready siez'd her Heart. May the Gods grant, that yours may be un∣touch'd. But what shall I now do, said Telemachus, in a modest and teachable accent? 'Tis now in vain, replied Mentor, to conceal the rest of your Adventures; she knows enough to secure her from being deceived in that which is to come; any reserve on your part would on∣ly serve to provoke her. Finish therefore your Relation to Morrow; tell her all that the Gods have done for you; and learn for the future to speak with Moderation of all Things that may tend to your own Praise. Telemachus kindly received this good Advice, and both lay down to Sleep.

As soon as Phaebus had shed the first Rays of his Glory upon the Earth, Mentor hearing the Voice of

the Goddess who called to her Nymphs in the Wood, awaken'd Telemachus. 'Tis time, said he, to shake off Sleep. Come, let us re∣turn to Calypso; but beware of the Charms of her Tongue: Never open your Heart to her; dread the insinuating Poison of her Praises. Yesterday she exalted you above your wise Father, above the invin∣cible Achilles, or the renowned The∣seus, or Hercules himself, who has obtain'd Immortality by his glori∣ous Actions. Could you not per∣ceive the Excess of this Commen∣dation? Or did you not observe what she said? Know, that she be∣lieves it not her self. She only com∣mends you, because she thinks you weak and vain enough to be de∣ceiv'd with Praises far exceeding your Actions.

After this Discourse, they went to the place where the Goddess ex∣pected them. She smil'd when she saw them approaching, and under

an appearance of Joy, conceal'd the Fears and Suspicions that disturb'd her Heart. For she foresaw that Telemachus, under the Conduct of Mentor, would escape her Hands, as Ulysses had done. Go on, said she, my dear Telemachus, and satis∣fie my Curiosity. I thought all the Night, I saw you departing from Phenicia, and going to seek a new Destiny in the Island of Cyprus. Tell me then the success of this Voyage, and let us not lose one mo∣ment. They sat down in a shady Grove, upon the green Turf inter∣mix'd with Violets. Calypso could not refrain from looking upon Te∣lemachus with Tenderness and Pas∣sion; nor see without Indignation, that Mentor observ'd her, even to the least motion of her Eyes.

In the mean time the Nymphs stood silent, forming a half-circle, and leaning somewhat forward, that they might both hear and see with more advantage. The Eyes of all

the Assembly were unmoveably fix'd upon the young Man. Tele∣machus looking down, and grace∣fully blushing, thus resum'd the Thread of his Discourse.

Scarce had the Breath of a savo∣rable Wind fill'd our Sails, when the Coast of Phenicia intirely disap∣pear'd from us. And because I was with the Cyprians, whose Man∣ners I knew not, I resolv'd to be si∣lent, and to observe all, keeping my self within the strictest Rules of Di∣scretion, that I might acquire their Esteem.

During my silence, a soft and powerful slumber seiz'd upon me; my Senses were ravish'd and sus∣pended; my Heart was quiet and full of joy. On a sudden I thought I saw Venus launching down from the Clouds in a Charriot, guided by a pair of Doves. She had the same shining Beauty, the same live∣ly Youth, and those blooming Graces that appear'd in her, when

she arose from the Foam of the Ocean, and dazled the Eyes of Ju∣piter himself. She descended with extreme Rapidity, plac'd her self by me, laid her Hand upon my Shoulder, call'd me by my Name, and smilling pronounc'd these Words.

Young Greek, thou art going into my peculiar Empire; Thou shalt soon arrive in that fortunate Island, where Pleasures, Sports and wan∣ton Joys abound. There thou shalt burn Perfumes upon my Altar. There I will plunge thee into a Ri∣ver of Delights: Open thy Heart to the most charming Hopes, and beware of resisting the most power∣ful of all the Goddesses, who re∣solves to make thee happy.

At the same time I saw Cupid as a Child, gently moving his little Wings, and hovering about his Mother. He had the tenderest Graces in his Face, and the Smiles of an Infant; yet there was some∣thing

so fierce in his Eyes, as to make me afraid. He smil'd when he look'd upon me; but his Smiles were malicious, scornful and cruel. He took the sharpest of his Arrows from his golden Quiver; He drew his Bow, and was going to pierce my Heart, when Minerva appear'd, and cover'd me with her immortal Shield.

The Face of this Goddess had not the same effeminate Beauty, nor that passionate Languishing, which I had observ'd in the Face and Po∣sture of Venus. On the contrary, her Beauty was natural, unaffected, modest; all was Grave, Vigorous, Noble, full of Power and Majesty. The Arrow too weak to pierce the Shield fell down upon the Ground; Cupid, in a rage, sigh'd bitterly, and was asham'd to see himself over∣come. Be gone, cried Minerva, rash Boy, be gone; Thou can'st Conquer none but the Base, who prefer dishonourable Pleasures be∣fore Wisdom, Virtue and Glory.

At these Words, Cupid, fir'd with Indignation, flew away; and as Venus re-ascended towards Olympus, I saw her Chariot and Doves, row∣ling in a Cloud of Gold and Azur a long time before she disappear'd. When I turned my Eyes towards the Earth, I could no where see Minerva. Methought I was tran∣sported into a delicious Garden, as Men paint the Elysian Fields. There I found Mentor, who said to me; Fly from this cruel Country, this pernicious Island, where the Inha∣bitants breath nothing but Pleasure. The boldest Virtue ought to trem∣ble, and cannot be safe but by Flight. As soon as I saw him, I endeavour'd to throw my Arms a∣bout his Neck and to embrace him; but I found my Feet unable to move; my Knees sunk under me, and my Hands attempting to lay hold upon Mentor, follow'd an empty Phantome that would not be touch'd.

As I was making this Effort I waked, and perceiv'd that this mi∣sterious Dream was no less than a Divine Admonition. I found in my self a firm Resolution against the Allurements of Pleasure; a watchful Jealousie of my own Con∣duct, and a just abhorrence of the dissolute Manners that reign'd in Cyprus. But that which wounded me to the Heart, was, that I thought Mentor dead; that he had pass'd the Stygian Lake, and was become an Inhabitant of those for∣tunate Fields, where the Souls of the Just reside. This Thought made me shed a Torrent of Tears. The Cyprians ask'd me why I wept. These Tears, said I, are but too suitable to the Condition of an un∣happy Stranger, who has lost all Hopes of ever seeing his Country more.

In the mean time all the Cyprians that were in the Ship abandon'd themselves to the most extravagant

Follies; the Rowers who hated to take Pains, fell asleep upon their Oars. The Pilot put a Garland of Flowers on his Head; left the Rudder, and held a vast Flaggon of Wine in his Hands, which he had almost emptied. He, and all the rest of the Crew, inflam'd with the Furies of Bacchus, sung such Verses in the honour of Venus and Cupid, as ought to be abhorr'd by all those who love Virtue.

Whilst they thus forgot the Dan∣gers of the Sea, a sudden Tempest arose: The Elements seem'd to mix; The Winds were let loose, and roar'd in every Sail: The Waves beat furiously upon the Flanks of the Ship, which groaned under the Weight of their Strokes. One while we mounted upon the Back of the swelling Waters; ano∣ther while the Sea seem'd to steal from under the Vessel, and to pre∣cipitate us into the dark Abyss. We saw the Rocks close by our side,

and the angry Waves breaking up∣on them with a dreadful Noise. Then I found by experience the Truth of what I had heard from Mentor, That Men of dissolute Lives, and abandon'd to Pleasure, always want Courage in time of Danger. All our Cyprians sunk in∣to despair, and wept like Women. I heard nothing but lamentable Ex∣clamations; bitter Regrets upon the Pleasures of Life; vain and in∣significant Promises of Sacrificing abundantly to the Gods, if they should arrive safe in the Harbour. No one had sufficient persence of Mind, either to give necessary Or∣ders, or to work the Ship. In this Condition, I thought my self o∣blig'd to save my own Life, and the Lives of those that were with me. I took the Rudder into my Hand, because the raving Pilot was utterly uncapable of knowing the Danger we were in. I encourag'd the astonish'd Mariners; I made

them take down the Sails; we sheer'd by the Rocks and Quick∣sands, and saw all the Horrors of Death staring us in the Face. At last we arriv'd in the Island of Cyprus.

This Adventure seem'd like a Dream to all those, who ow'd the Preservation of their Lives to my care. They look'd upon me with Astonishment. We landed at Cy∣prus in the Month of April, which is consecrated to Venus. This Sea∣son, say the Cyprians, is most suita∣ble to this Goddess, because she seems to revive the whole System of Nature, and to give Birth to Pleasures and Flowers at the same time.

As soon as I arriv'd in the Island, I perceiv'd an unusual Sweetness in the Air, rendring the Body slothful and unactive, but infusing a jovial and wanton Humour. I observ'd the Country, tho' naturally fruitful and delicious, to be almost every

where uncultivated, through the Idleness and Negligence of the In∣habitants. I saw great numbers of Maids and Women vainly and fan∣tastically dress'd, singing the Praises of Venus, and going to devote them∣selves to the Service of her Temple. Beauty, Graces, Joy and Pleasure, were equally apparent in their Faces and Gesture. But their Graces were too much affected: There was not that noble Simplicity, nor that love∣ly Modesty, which makes the great∣est Charm of Beauty. A certain Air of Dissolution; an artful way of adjusting the Face; their vain Dress and languishing Gestures; their Eyes that seem'd in pain to find out the Eyes of Men; their mutual Jealousie, who should raise the greatest Passions: In a word, all that I saw in these Women ap∣pear'd vile and contemptible to me. By endeavouring to please me im∣moderately, they excited my Aver∣sion.

I was conducted to a Temple of the Goddess. She had divers in this Island; for she is particularly ador'd at Cythera, Idalia and Paphos; 'twas to that of Cythera, I was brought. The Temple is built with Marble; 'tis a perfect Peristy∣lium; the Pillars are lofty, and so well proportion'd, that they give a majestick Air to the whole Fabrick. At each Face of the Temple stands a Portal with a large Fronton, on which the most agreeable Adven∣tures of the Goddess are curiously represent∣ed in * 1.1 raised Stone∣work. Great numbers of People are always at the Gate, attending to make their Offerings. No Vi∣ctim ever suffers the Knife within the Precinct of the sacred Ground. The Fat of Bulls and Heifers is not burnt here as in other Places. No Blood is ever shed. The Cattle to be offer'd, are only presented before the Altar; and no Beast may be of∣fer'd

unless it be Young, White, without defect, and without blem∣ish. They are adorn'd with pur∣ple Fillets embroyder'd with Gold; their Horns are garnished with bunches of the most fragrant Flow∣ers; and when they have been pre∣sented at the Altar, they are lead to a private Place without the Wall, and kill'd for the Table of the Priests that belong to the God∣dess.

Here also are offer'd all sorts of perfum'd Liquors, and Wines more delicious than Nectar. The Priests are cloathed in long white Robes, with Girdles of Gold and Fringes of the same. The most exquisite Per∣fumes of the East are burnt Night and Day upon the Altars, and form a curling Cloud as they mount into the Air. The Pillars are adorn'd with Festons of wreathed Flowers; all the Vessels for the Service of the Altar are of fine Gold; a sacred Wood of Myrtle encompasses the

Building; none but Boys and Girls of admirable Beauty may present the Victims to the Priests, or kin∣dle the Fire upon the Altars. But Dissolution and Impudence disho∣nour this magnificent Temple.

At first I detested what I saw; but it soon began to grow familiar to me; I was no longer afraid of Vice; all Companies inspir'd me with an Inclination to Intempe∣rance. They laught at my Inno∣cence; and my Modesty serv'd for Sport to this dissolute People.

They forgot nothing that might ensnare me, that might excite my Passions, and awaken in me an Ap∣petite to Pleasure. I found my self losing Ground every day. The good Education I had receiv'd, could support me no longer; all my best Resolutions vanish'd away; I wanted Strength to resist the Evil that pressed me on every side; I grew even asham'd of Virtue. I was like a Man swimming in a

deep and rapid River: At first he cuts the Waters and mounts vigo∣rously against the Stream; but if the Banks are high and perpendi∣cular, and he finds no place to rest on either side, he at last tires by degrees; his Force abandons him; his exhausted Limbs grow stiff, and the Torrent carries him down. So my Eyes began to grow dim; my Heart fainted; I could not make use of my Reason, nor call to mind the Misfortunes of my Father. The Dream that shew'd me Mentor in the Elysian Fields, utterly discourag'd me. An easie and dissolute Lan∣guishing seiz'd upon me; I already began to love the flattering Poison that crept into my Veins, and pe∣netrated through the Marrow of my Bones.

Yet for all this, sometimes I would Sigh; I shed bitter Tears; I roar'd like a Lyon in Fury. O! unhappy Youth, said I! O Gods! that divert your selves so cruelly

with the Fate of Men! Why do you cause them to pass through that Age, which is a time of Folly, and resembles a burning Fever? O! why am I not covered with Gray Hairs, bow'd down, and sinking in∣to the Grave, like my Grand-father Laertes? Death would be more wel∣come to me, than the shameful Weakness I now feel.

Scarce had I utter'd these Words, when my Grief began to abate, and my Heart drunk with a foolish Pas∣sion, shook off almost all Shame. After this I found my self plung'd into an Abyss of Remorse. Whilst I was under these Disorders, I went raving up and down the Sacred Wood, like a Hind that has been wounded by a Hunter; she crosses vast Forests to asswage her Pain; but the fatal Arrow sticks fast in her side, and follows her wheresoever she flies. Thus I endeavour'd to run away from my self; but nothing could cure my wounded Heart.

In this Moment, I perceiv'd at some distance from me, under the most shady part of the Wood, the Figure of the Wise Mentor. But his Face was so pale, so sad, and so se∣vere, that I knew not how to re∣joyce. Is it you then, O my dear Friend? My last, and only hope, is it you? Is it you, your self? Or is a deceitful Image come to abuse my Eyes? Is it you, O Mentor? Or is it your Ghost, still sensible of my Misfortunes? Are you not among the Blessed Spirits, that possess the Rewards of their Virtue, and by the Bounty of the Gods enjoy an Eter∣nal Peace, and uninterrupted Plea∣sures in the Elysian Plains? Mentor, do you yet live? Am I so happy to see you? Or is it only the shadow of my Friend?

With these Words in my Mouth, I ran to him so Transported, that I lost my Respiration. He stood still unmov'd, and made not one step towards me. O Gods! you

know with what Joy I felt him in my Arms. No, 'tis not an empty Shadow; I hold him fast; I em∣brace him; my dear Mentor! Thus I cried out; I shed a flood of Tears upon his Face; I hung about his Neck, and was not able to speak.

He look'd sadly upon me, with Eyes full of tender Compassion. At last I said, alas! Where have you been? To what Dangers have you abandon'd me by your absence? And what should I now do without you? But he without answering my Questions, with a terrible Voice cried out; Fly, fly without delay: This Soyl produces nothing but Poison: The Air you breath is in∣fected with the Plague: The Men are contagious, and converse with each other only to spread the fatal Venom: Base and infamous Plea∣sure, the worst of all those Evils that sprung from Pandora's Box, dissolves them in Luxury, and suf∣fers no Virtue in this Place. Fly;

stay not a Moment; look not once behind you, and as you run, shake off the remembrance of this Execra∣ble Island.

He said, and immediately I felt as it were a thick Cloud dispersing from about my Eyes, and perceiv'd a more pure and beautiful Light. A sweet and noble Joy, accompa∣nied with Resolution and Courage, reviv'd in my Heart. This Joy was very different from that loose and foolish Joy which had Poison'd my Senses. The one is disorderly and unquiet, interrupted with extrava∣gant Passions and cruel Remorse; the other is a Joy of Reason, at∣tended with a Heaven of Happiness. 'Tis always pure, equal, inexhausti∣ble. The deeper we drink, the more delicious is the Taste. It ra∣vishes the Soul without the least dis∣order. I began to shed Tears of Joy, and found a sweetness in Weep∣ing. Happy, said I, are those Men who can see the beauty of Virtue!

Is it possible to see her without lov∣ing her? Is it possible to Love her without being Happy?

Here Mentor interrupted me, and said, I must leave you; I must de∣part this Moment; I may not stay any longer. Where, said I, are you going? Into what Desert will I not follow you? Don't think you can leave me; for I will rather Die than not attend you. Whilst I spoke these Words, I held him fast with all my Strength. 'Tis in vain, said he, for you to hope to detain me. The Cruel Metophis sold me to cer∣tain Ethiopians or Arabs. These Men going to Damascus in Syria, on the account, of Trade, resolved to sell me, supposing they should get a great sum of Mony for me of one Hazael, who wanted a Greek Slave to inform him of the Customs of Greece, and instruct him in our Arts and Sciences.

This Hazael purchased me at a dear Rate. What he has learnt

from me concerning our Manners, has given him a Curiosity to go in∣to the Island of Creet, to study the Wise Laws of Minos. During our Voyage, the Weather has forced us to put in at Cyprus, in expectation of a favourable Wind. He is come to make his Offerings in the Tem∣ple; see there, he is going out; the Winds call; our Sails are aloft; adieu, dear Telemachus; a Slave that fears the Gods, ought faithfully to serve his Master: The Gods do not permit me to dispose of my self: If I might, they know it, I would be only yours: Farewel, remember the Labours of Ulysses, and the Tears of Penelope; remember that the Gods are just. O Gods, the Protectors of Innocence! in what a Country am I constrain'd to leave Telemachus?

No, no, said I, my dear Mentor, it shall not depend upon you to leave me here; rather Die, than see you depart without me. Is this Syrian Master inexorable? Was his

Infancy nourish'd by a Tygre? Would he tear you out of my Arms? He must either kill me, or suffer me to follow you. You exhort me to fly, and will not permit me to fly with you: I'le go to Hazael; perhaps he will pity my Youth and my Tears. He loves Wisdom, be∣cause he goes so far in search of it; such a one cannot have a savage and insensible Heart. I will throw my self at his Feet; I will embrace his Knees; I will not let him go, till he has given me leave to follow you. My dear Mentor, I can be a Slave with you; I will offer my Service to him; if he refuses me, 'tis resolv'd; I will deliver my self from this burden of Life.

In this Moment, Hazael call'd Mentor. I prostrated my self before him; he was surpris'd to see an un∣known Person in this Posture. What is't you desire, said he? Life, re∣plied I; for I cannot Live unless you suffer me to follow Mentor, who

belongs to you. I am the Son of the Great Ulysses, the most Wise of all those Grecian Kings that destroy'd the great City of Troy, which was so famous throughout all Asia. I speak not this to boast of my Birth, but only to inspire you with some Pity of my Misfortunes. I have sought my Father in all the Seas, accompanied by this Man, who has been to me another Father. For∣tune to make me compleatly unhap∣py, has taken him away from me; she has made him your Slave; let me be so too. If it be true, that you are a lover of Justice, and that you are going to Creet to inspect the Laws of the good King Minos, re∣ject not my Sighs and my Tears. You see the Son of a King reduc'd to desire Servitude as his only Re∣fuge. Formerly I would have cho∣sen Death in Sicily to avoid Sla∣very; but my first Misfortunes were only the weak Essays of Fortunes Injustice: Now I tremble, lest I

should not be receiv'd among Slaves. O Gods! See my Calamity; O Ha∣zael, remember Minos, whose Wis∣dom you admire, and who will judge us both in the Kingdom of Pluto.

Hazael looking upon me with Kindness and Compassion, put forth his Hand and rais'd me up. I am not ignorant, said he, of the Wis∣dom and Virtue of Ulysses. Mentor has often told me of the Glory he has acquir'd among the Greeks; and besides, Fame has not been wanting to spread his Name over all the Nations of the East. Follow me, thou Son of Ulysses, I will be your Father, till you find him, who gave you Life. But tho' I were not mov'd with the Glory of your Fa∣ther, his Misfortunes, and your own; yet the Friendship I have for Mentor, would engage me to take care of you. 'Tis true, I bought him as a Slave, but I keep him as a faithful Friend; the Mony he cost, has acquir'd me the dearest and most

valuable Friend, that I have in the World: In him I have found Wis∣dom; I owe all the Love I have for Virtue to his Instructions. From this Moment he is free, and you shall be so too; I ask nothing of either but your Heart.

In an Instant, I pass'd from the bitterest Grief to the most lively Joy that Men can feel. I saw my self deliver'd from the worst of Dan∣gers; I was drawing near to my Country; I had found One to assist me in my Return; I had the Plea∣sure of being with a Man, who lov'd me already for the sake of Vir∣tue; in Word, I found every thing in finding Mentor; and that which endear'd my good Fortune to me, was, that I feared not to lose him again.

In the mean time, Hazael ad∣vanc'd to the Shoar; we follow'd; we Imbark'd with him; our Oars cut the yielding Waters; the Ze∣phyrs plaid in our Sails; gave Life

and easie Motion to the Ship; the Island of Cyprus soon disappear'd. Hazael, impatient to know my Sen∣timents, ask'd me what I thought of the Manners of that Island? I told him ingenuously to what Dan∣gers my Youth had been expos'd, and the Combat I had suffer'd within me.

He was tenderly mov'd with my abhorrence of Vice, and said these Words: O Venus! I acknowledge your Power, and that of your Son; I have burnt Incense upon your Al∣tars: But give me leave to detest the infamous dissolution of the In∣habitants of your Island, and the brutal Impudence, with which they celebrate your Festivals. After this, he discours'd with Mentor of that first Being which form'd the Hea∣vens and the Earth; of that pure, infinite and unchangeable Light which is communicated to all with∣out any Diminution; of that su∣preme and universal Truth which

enlightens the Spiritual World as the Sun enlightens the Corporeal. He who has never seen this Light, said he, is as blind as one born without Sight; he passes his Life in a dismal Night, like that of those Regions where the Sun never shines for many Months of the Year; he thinks himself Wise, and is a Fool; he fancies he sees all, and sees no∣thing; he Dies without seeing any thing; at most he perceives only false and obscure Flashes, vain Sha∣dows, Phantoms, that have no real Being.

Of this kind are all those, who are carried away by sensual Pleasures, and the Inchantments of Imagina∣tion. There are no true Men up∣on the Earth but those who consult, love and obey this eternal Rea∣son. 'Tis she that inspires us when we think well: 'Tis she that re∣proves us when we think ill. Our Reason as well as our Life is her Gift. She is as a vest Ocean of

Light; the Reason of Men is like little Rivulets emaning from her, which return and lose themselves in her again.

Tho' I did not yet throughly comprehend the Wisdom of this Dis∣course, I tasted nevertheless some∣thing in it so Pure and so Sublime, that my Heart grew warm, and Truth seem'd to shine in all these Words. They continued to speak of the Original of the Gods, of the Hero's of the Poets, of the Golden Age, of the Deluge, of the first Histories of the World, of the Ri∣ver of Oblivion, into which the Souls of the Dead are plung'd, of the eternal Punishments prepar'd for the Impious in the dark Gulph of Tartarus, and of that happy Tran∣quility which the Just enjoy in the Elysian Fields without any apprehen∣sions of Change.

During this Conversation, we saw great numbers of Dolphins co∣ver'd with Scales, that seem'd to be

of Gold and Azure. They play'd in the Sea, and lash'd the Floods in∣to a Foam. After them came the Tritons, sounding their wreathed Trumpets made of Shells: They surrounded the Chariot of Amphi∣trite, that was drawn by Sea-Horses whiter than Snow. They cut the Briny Sea, and left vast Furrows behind them. Their Eyes darted Fire, and Smoak issued from their Nostrils. The Chariot of the God-dess was a Shell of a wonderful Fi∣gure; 'twas more white than the finest Ivory, and the Wheels were all of Gold. This Chariot seem'd to fly upon the surface of the Wa∣ters. A Troop of Nymphs came Swimming behind the Chariot: Their lovely Hair hung loose upon their Shoulders, floating at the Plea∣sure of the Winds. The Goddess had in one Hand a golden Scepter, with which she commanded the Waves: With the other she held upon her Knee the little God Pale∣mon,

her Son, who hung upon her Breast. Her Face was so bright and so majestick, that the black Tempests and all the seditious Winds fled from before her. The Tritons guided the Horses, and held the golden Reins. A large Sail of the richest Purple hung floating in the Air above the Chariot; a Multitude of little Zephyrs hover'd about it, and labour'd to fill it with their Breath. In the midst of the Air Eolus appear'd, diligent, restless and vehement; his stern and wrinkled Face; his menacing Voice, his Eye∣brows hanging down to his Beard; his Eyes full of a dim and austere Fire, dispers'd the Clouds, and kept the fierce Aquilons silent. The vast Whales, and all the Monsters of the Sea came out of their profound Grot∣to's to gaze upon the Goddess, and with their Nostrils made the briny Waters ebb and flow.

After we had admir'd this won∣derful Sight, we began to discover

the Mountains of Creet, tho' yet we could hardly distinguish them from the Clouds of Heaven, and flowings of the Sea. Then we saw the summet of Mount Ida, which rises above all other Mountains of the Island, as an antient Stag carries his branching Head above the young Fawns that follow him in the Fo∣rest. By degrees we saw more distinctly the Coast of the Island, representing the form of an Amphi∣theater; as we found the Lands in Cyprus neglected and uncultivated, so those of Creet appear'd plenti∣fully cover'd with all manner of Fruits by the Industry of the Inha∣bitants.

On all sides we perceived Towns equalling Cities; well-built Villages, and magnificent Cities: We saw neither Hill nor Vale where the Hand of the diligent Husband∣man was not stampt; the Plow had left deep Furrows in every part; Thorns, Bryars, and such

Plants as are a useless Burden to the Earth, are utterly unknown in this Country. We contemplated with Pleasure the fruitful Vallies, where Troops of Oxen go lowing in the sweet Pastures, that abound with Springs of running Water; the Sheep every where Feeding upon the descent of the Hills; the cham∣pion Ground cover'd with Corn, presented with a liberal Hand by the bountiful Ceres; in a Word, the Mountains adorn'd with Vines, and Grapes of a rich purple Colour, promising a plentiful Vintage of the delicious Presents of Bacchus, which charm the Cares of Men.

Mentor told us he had been for∣merly in Creet, and informed us of what he knew.

This Island, said he, justly admir'd by all Strangers, and famous for its hundred Cities, is more than sufficient to nourish all the Inha∣bitants, tho' they are innumera∣ble; for the Earth never ceases

to produce her Fruits if Industry be not wanting; her fertil Bo∣som can never be exhausted. The more numerous Men are in a Country, provided they be La∣borious, the greater abundance they enjoy. They need not be jealous of one another, for this tender Mother multiplies her Gifts according to the number of her Children, if they deserve her Fa∣vours by their Labour. The Am∣bition and Covetousness of Men, are the only Springs of their Un∣happiness. They covet all, and make themselves miserable by de∣siring what is superfluous. If they would be moderate, and contented with what is necessary, we should see Plenty, Peace, Union and Happiness restor'd to the World.

Minos, the wisest and best of Kings, understood this well. All the admirable Things you shall see in this Island are ow∣ing to the excellency of his Laws.

The Education he appointed for Children, renders their Bodies strong and healthful. They are accustom∣ed from their Infancy to a plain, frugal, laborious Life, because Plea∣sure enervates both the Body and the Mind. No other Pleasure is ever propos'd to them but the ac∣quisition of an invincible Virtue, and solid Glory. This People do not measure Mens Courage only by despising Death in the hazards of War; but by the contempt of great Riches, and ignominious Pleasures. Three Vices are punish'd here which remain unpunish'd in all other Nations, Ingratitude, Dissi∣mulation, Covetousness.

They have no need of Laws to suppress Luxury and dissolution of Manners; for such Things are un∣known in Creet. Every Man Works; yet no Man desires to be rich. They think all their Labour sufficiently recompenced with an easy and re∣gular Life, in which they enjoy

plentifully and quietly all that is truly necessary to Men. Costly Fur∣niture, rich Apparel, delicious Feasts and guilded Palaces, are not per∣mitted in this Country. Their Cloths are of fine Wool, wrought with Art, and beautiful in Colour, but without Embroidery or any other Ornament. Their Tables are sober; They drink little Wine; good Bread, with excellent Fruits, and the Milk of the Cattle, make the principal part of their Meals.

At the most, their Meat is plain dress'd, without Sauce or Ragou; and they always take care to re∣serve the best and strongest of the Cattle to be employ'd in Husban∣dry. Their Houses are neat, com∣modious, pleasant; but without Or∣naments. They are not ignorant of the most magnificent Archite∣cture; but that's reserv'd for the Temples of the Gods: They dare not live in Houses like those of the immortal Beings.

The great Riches of this People are Health, Strength, Courage; Peace and Union in Families; the liberty of all the Citizens; plenty of Things necessary, and a contempt of those that are superfluous; a ha∣bit of Labour, and an abhorrence of Sloth; a mutual emulation of virtuous Actions; submission to the Laws, and a reverence of the just Gods.

I ask'd him in what the Authori∣ty of the King consisted? And he answer'd thus.

The King is above all the People; but the Laws are above the King. He has an ab∣solute Power to do Good; but his Hands are tied, so soon as he attempts to do Ill. The Laws entrust him with the care of the People, as the most valuable of all Trusts, on condition to be the Father of his Subjects. They intend, that one Man shall serve by his Wisdom and Moderation to make whole Nations happy;

and not that so many Men shall by their Misery and abject Slave∣ry, serve to flatter the Pride and Luxury of one Man. The King ought to have nothing more than other Men, except such assistance as is necessary either to the dis∣charge of his painful Functions, or to imprint on the Minds of the People that Respect which is due to the Person who is to maintain the vigour of the Laws.

On the other Hand, the King ought to be more sober, more 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to Luxury, more free from Vanity, Haughtiness and Osten∣tation, than any other Man. He is not to have more Riches and Pleasures, but more Wisdom, Virtue and Glory than the rest of Men. Abroad, he is to be the Defende of his Country, at the Head of their Armies; at Home he is to distribute Justice to the People; to make them good, wise and happy! 'Tis not for his

own sake that the Gods have made him King, but only that he may be the Man of his People. He owes all his Time to the Peo∣ple, all his Care, all his Affecti∣on; and he is no otherwise wor∣thy of the Crown, than as he forgets his own Interests, to sa∣crifice himself to the Publick Good. Minos appointed that his Children should not reign after him, unless they would reign by these Rules; for he lov'd his Peo∣ple more than his Family. By this Wisdom he render'd Greet so powerful and so happy. By this Moderation he has effac'd the Glory of all Conquerors, who make their People subservient to their Greatness, that is, to their Vanity. In a Word, by his Ju∣stice he do serv'd to be the supreme Judg of the Dead in the Regions below.

Whilst Mentor was speaking we arrived in the Island; we saw the

famous Labyrinth, built by the Hands of the ingenious Dedalus, in imitation of the great Labyrinth which we had seen in Egypt. As we were considering this curious Fa∣brick, we beheld the Shoar cover'd with People, and Multitudes pres∣sing towards a Place that was near the Sea. We ask'd the reason of their hast, and receiv'd this Account from one Nausicrates, a Native of Creet.

Idomeneus, the Son of Deucalion, and Grand-son to Minos, wint with the rest of the Grecian Kings to the Siege of Troy. After the Destructi∣on of that City, he set Sail, in order to return to Creet; but was surpris'd by so violent a Storm, that the Pi∣lot, and the most experienc'd Ma∣riners in the Ship, gave themselves for lost. Every one had Death be∣fore his Eyes; every one saw the Abyss open to swallow him up; eve∣ry one deplor'd his Misfortune, and had not so much as the wretched

Hopes of that imperfect Rest, which the Souls enjoy, that have cross'd the River Styx, after their Bodies have receiv'd Burial. Idomeneus, lifting up his Eyes and Hands to Heaven, invok'd Neptune in these Words. O powerful God! who commandest the Empire of the Sea, vouchsafe to hear the Prayer of the Distressed; if thou deliverest me from the fury of the Winds, and bringest me safe to Creet, the first Head I see, shall fall by my own Hands a sacrifice to thy Deity.

In the mean time his Son impa∣tient to see his Father, made haste to meet and embrace him at his Landing; unhappy Youth! who knew not that he was running to his own Destruction. The Father escap'd the Storm, and landed in the Port of Syria. He gave Thanks to Neptune for hearing his Prayers, but soon found how fatal they had been to him. A black Presage of his Misfortune made him bitterly

repent his rash Vow. He dreaded his own Arrival; he fix't his Eyes upon the Ground: He fear'd to see whatever was dear to him in the World. But the inexorable God∣dess Nemesis, who never fails to punish Men, and especially haugh∣ty Kings, push'd him on with a fa∣tal and invisible Hand. Idomeneus arrives, hardly daring to lift up his Eyes: He sees his Son: He starts back with Horrour; his Eyes in vain look about for some other Head to serve for his vow'd Sacrifice.

His Son approach'd, and threw his Arms about his Neck, surpris'd to see his Father dissolving in Tears, and making no return to his Tender∣ness. O my Father, said he! Whence comes this Sadness, after so long ab∣sence? are you displeas'd to see your Kingdom, and to be the Joy of Your Son? What have I done? You turn your Eyes away for fear of seeing me.

The Father overwhelm'd with Grief, made no answer. At last, af∣ter

many bitter Sighs, he said, Ah! Neptune what have I promis'd? Re∣store me to the Winds, and to the Rocks, which ought to have dash'd me in Pieces, and finish'd my wretch∣ed Life. Let my Son live! O thou cruel God, here, take my Blood and spare his. As he spoke, he drew his Sword to pierce his own Heart; but those that were about him staid his Hand. The aged Sophronymus, by whom the will of the Gods is convey'd to Men, assur'd him that he might satisfie Neptune without the Death of his Son. Your Pro∣mise, said he, was imprudent; the Gods will not be honour'd by Cruel∣ty: Beware of adding to the Error of your Promise, the crime of ac∣complishing it against the Laws of Nature: Offer a hundred Bulls, white as Snow to Neptune; let their Blood stream about his Altar crown'd with Flowers; let the sweetest In∣cense smoak in Honour of the God.

Idomeneus heard this Discourse, in∣clining his Head towards the Earth, and answer'd not one Word: Fury sat glaring in his Eyes; his pale and disfigur'd Face chang'd Colour eve∣ry Moment, and all his Limbs shook with horrour. In the mean time his Son said to him: My Father, here Lam; your Son is ready to Die, to appease the God: I die content∣ed, since my Death will have pre∣vented yours. Strike, O my Father, and suspect not to find in me the least fear of Death, or any thing unbecoming your Son.

In that Moment Idomeneus tran∣sported with Distraction, and pos∣sess'd by infernal Furies, surpris'd all that stood about him with Asto∣nishment. He thrust his Sword into the Heart of this Youth, and drew it out again reeking and full of Blood, to plunge it into his own Bowels. But he was once more prevented by those that were present. The Youth fell down into his own Blood;

the shades of Death hung upon his Eyes; he open'd them a little to the Light, but could not support its Brightness. As a beautiful Lilly in the midst of the Field, out up from the Root by the Plowshare, lies down and languishes on the Ground. It receives no more Nourishment from the Earth, and the Springs of Life are intercepted; yet the snowy White and noble Lustre in part re∣mains. So the Son of Idomeneus, like a young and tender Flower, is cut down in the bloom of his Age. The Father through excess of Grief is be∣come insensible, he knows not where he is, nor what he does, nor what he ought to do; he reels to wards the City and demands his Son.

FINIS.

Notes

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