CHAP. I. Mr. CAMPBELL'S Deſcent, Family, Birth, &c.

OF the Goodneſs and Antiquity of the Name and Family of this Gentle⯑man, No body can ever make any Queſti⯑on: He is a Campbell, Lineally Deſcended from the Houſe of Argyll, and bears a di⯑ſtant Relation to the preſent Duke of that Name in Scotland, and who is now Conſti⯑tuted a Duke of England, by the Stile and Title of the Duke of Greenwich.

It happens frequently, that the Birth of Extraordinary Perſons is ſo long diſputed by different People, each claiming him for their own, that the real p [...] where he firſt took [9] Breath grows at laſt dubious: And thus it fares with the Perſon, who is the Subject of the following Sheets; as therefore it is my Propoſal to have a ſtrict regard to Hiſtorical Faith, ſo am I obliged to tell the Reader that I can with no certainty give an Account of him, till after he was Three Years Old; from which Age I knew him even to this Day: I will Anſwer for the Truths which I impart to the Publick during that Time, and as for his Birth and the Circumſtances of it, and how the firſt Three Years of his Life paſſed; I can only deliver them the ſame Account I have received from others, and leave them to their own Judgments, whether it ought to be deemed Real or Fabulous.

The Father of our Mr. Duncan Campbell (as theſe relate the Story) was from his Infancy of a very curious inquiſitive Nature, and of an Enterprizing Genius, and if he heard of any thing Suprizing to be ſeen, the Difficulty in Practiſe was enough to recom⯑mend to him the attempting to get a ſight of it at any rate or any Hazard. It is certain, that during ſome Civil broils and troubles in Scotland, the Grandfather of our Mr. Camp⯑bell was driven with his Wife and Family by the Fate of War into the Iſle of Schetland, where he lived many Years, and during his Reſidence there, Mr. Archibald Campbell, the Father of our Duncan Campbell, was Born.

[10] Schetland lies North-Eaſt from Orkney, between 60 and 61 Degrees of Latitude. The largeſt Iſle of Schetland by the Natives called the Main-Land, is ſixty Miles in Length, from South-Weſt to the North-Eaſt, and from ſixteen, to one Mile, in Breadth.

The People who Live in the ſmaller Iſles have abundance of Eggs and Fowl, which Contributes to maintain their Families du⯑ring the Summer.

The ordinary Folks are moſtly very nim⯑ble and active in climbing the Rocks in queſt of thoſe Eggs and Fowl. This Exerciſe is far more diverting than Hunting and Hawking among us, and would certainly for the Plea⯑ſure of it, be followed by People of greater Diſtinction, was it not attended with very great Dangers, ſufficient to turn ſport into ſorrow, and which have often proved fatal to thoſe who too eagerly purſue their Game. Mr. Archibald Campbell however delighted extreamly in this way of Fowling, and uſed to condeſcend to mix with the common People for Company, becauſe none of the Youths of his Rank and Condition were ven⯑tureſome enough to go along with him.

The moſt remarkable Experiment of this ſort, is at the Iſle called the Noſs of Braſſah: The Noſs ſtanding at ſixteen fathom diſtance from the ſide of the Oppoſite Main; the higher and lower Rocks have two Stakes faſtened in each of them, and to theſe there []

[11] are Ropes tied: Upon the Ropes there is an Engine hung which they call a Cradle, and in this a Man makes his way over from the greater to the ſmaller Rocks, where he makes a Conſiderable purchaſe of Eggs and Fowl; but his return being by an Aſcent, makes it the more Dangerous, tho' thoſe on the great Rock have a Rope tied to the Cra⯑dle, by which they draw it and the Man ſafe over for the moſt part? Over this Rock Mr. Archibald Campbell and five others were in that manner let down by Cradles and Ropes; but before they could be all drawn back again it grew Dark, and their Aſſoci⯑ates not daring to be benighted, were forced to withdraw, and Mr. Campbell was the un⯑fortunate Perſon left behind, having wan⯑dered too far, and not minded how the Day declined being intent on his Game. He paſſed that Night, you may eaſily gueſs, without much Sleep, and with great Anxiety of Heart. The night too as he lay in the open Air was, to add to his Misfortune, as Boiſte⯑rous and Tempeſtuous as his own mind; but in the end the Tempeſt proved very hap⯑py for him: The Reader is to underſtand that the Hamburghers, Bremeners and Hol⯑landers, carry on a great Fiſh Trade there. Accordingly a Holland Veſſel that was juſt coming in the ſound of Braſſah, was by this Tempeſt driven into a Creek of the Rock, which Nature had made into a Harbonr, [12] and they were Providentially ſaved from the bottom of the Sea by a Rock, from which humanly ſpeaking they could expect nothing but Deſtruction, and being ſent to the bot⯑tom of that Sea. As never could a Man be taken hold of with ſo ſudden and ſurprizing a Diſaſter, ſo no body could meet with a more ſudden and ſurprizing Relief than Mr. Campbell found, when he ſaw a Ship ſo near. He made to the Veſſel, and begged the Hollanders to take him in; they asked him what he would give them, or ſaid the Barbarous Sailors, we will even leave you where you are; he told them his diſaſter, but they asked Money and nothing elſe would move them: As he knew them a ſelf inte⯑reſted People, he bethought himſelf, that if he ſhould tell them of the plenty of Fowls and Eggs they would get there; he might not only be taken in a Paſſenger, but made a Partner in the Money ariſing from the Stock; It ſucceeded accordingly, when he propoſed it, the whole Crew were all at Work, and in four hours, pretty well ſtored the Veſſel, and then returning on board ſet Sail for Holland. They offered Mr. Campbell to put him in at his own Iſland: But having a mind to ſee Holland, and being a Partner, to learn their way of Merchandize: which he thought he might turn to hi, Country Mens Advantage, he told them he would go the Voyage out with them, and ſee [13] the Country of thoſe who were his De⯑liverers, a neceſſary way of Speech, when one has a Deſign to ſooth Barbarians, who but for Intereſt would have left him unre⯑deemed, and for ought they knew a perpetual ſole Inhabitant of a Dreadful Rock, incom⯑paſſed round with Precipices, ſome, three hun⯑dred Fathom high. Not ſo, the Iſlanders (who are wrongly called a Savage ſet of Mortals) no, they came in queſt of him after ſo bitter a Night, not doubting to find him, but fearing to find him in a Lamentable Con⯑dition: they hunted and ranſacked every lit⯑tle hole and corner in the Rock, but all in vain. In one place they ſaw a great Slaugh⯑ter of Fowls enough to ſerve forty Families for a Week; and then they Gueſſed, tho' they had not the ill Fortune to meet the Eagles frequently noted to hover about thoſe Iſles, that they might have Devoured part of him on ſome Precipice of the Rock, and dropt the Remnant into the Sea. Night came upon them, and they were afraid of falling into the ſame Diſaſter, they went to relieve Mr. Campbell from. They returned each to their proper Basket, and were drawn up ſafe by their reſpective Friends, who were amazed that one Basket was drawn up empty which was let down for Mr. Campbell, and that there was not the leaſt Intelligence to be had Concerning him, but the Suppoſiti⯑ous Story of his having been Devour'd by [14] Eagles. The Story was told at Home; and with the Lamentation of the whole Family, and all his Friends; he was looked upon to be Murthered or Dead.

Return we now to Mr. Archibald Camp⯑bell ſtill alive, and on Board the Holland Veſſel; ſecure as he thought within himſelf, that from the Delivery he lately had by the Gift of Providence, he was not intended to be liable to any more Misfortunes and Dan⯑gers of Life, in the Compaſs of ſo ſmall a Voyage. But his Lot was placed otherwiſe in the Book of Fate, than he too fondly imagined: His Time of Happineſs was dated ſome Pages lower down, and more rubs and difficulties were to be Encountered with, before his Stars intended to lead him to the Port of Felicity. Juſt as he Arrived with⯑in ſight of Amſterdam, a Terrible Storm aroſe, and in Danger of their Lives, for many Hours, they Weathered out the Tempeſt; and a Calm promiſing fair afreſh, they made to the Coaſt of Zealand; but a new Hurricane prevented the Ship from coming there alſo; and after having loſt their Maſts and Rig⯑ging, they were driven into Lapland. There they went a Shore in order to carren and repair their Ship, and take in Proviſions, while the Ship was Repairing by the Dutch, our Iſlander made merry with the Inhabi⯑tants, being the moſt inclined to their Super⯑ſtitious Cuſtoms; he there became acquainted [15] with a very Beautiful Woman, who fell in Love with him, and after a very ſhort ſpace of Time he Married her. About the Time when the Ship departed, his Wife who was very Rich, was big with Child of a Son, name⯑ly, Mr. Duncan Campbell. He wrote a Letter by the Maſter of the Veſſel to his Parents, in Schetland, concerning the various Adventures he had met with, which was delivered the June following, about the time of Fiſhing, to his Parents, and ſeveral Perſons had Copies thereof, and for ought I know, ſome retain them to this very Day; ſure I am, that many remember the Particulars of this Sur⯑prizing Affair, who are now living in that Iſland.

The Letter being very Remarkable and Singular in all its Circumſtances: I ſhall preſent it the Reader Word for Word, as it was given into my Hands, together with ſome others which he wrote afterwards, in all which I am aſſured by very credible Perſons, and undoubted Authorities; there are not the leaſt Alterations, but what the Verſion of it from the then Scotch Manner of Expreſſion into a more Modern Engliſh Dreſs, made abſolutely neceſſary.

CHAP. II. After the Death of Mr. Duncan Campbell's Mother in Lapland. His Father Archibald returned with his Son to Scotland. His Se⯑cond Marriage, and how his Son was taught to Write and Read.

MR. Archibald Campbell, having bu⯑ried his Lapland Lady, returned to Scotland; and brought over with him his Son Mr. Duncan Campbell: By that time he had been a Year in his own Country, he Married a Second Wife; a Lady whom I had known very well, for ſome Years, and then I firſt ſaw the Boy, but as they went into the Weſtern Iſlands, I ſaw them not again in three Years. She being quite contrary to the cruel way much in Uſe among Step-Mothers, very fond of the Boy, was accuſtomed to ſay, ſhe did, and would always think him her own Son. The Child came to be about four Years of Age (as ſhe has related to me the Story ſince) and not able to ſpeak one Word, nor to hear any noiſe; the Fa⯑ther of him uſed to be mightily oppreſſed with Grief, and complain heavily to his new Wife, who was no leſs perplexed that a Boy ſo pretty, the Son of ſo particular a Woman, which he had made his Wife, by ſtrange Ac⯑cidents and Adventures, and a Child coming [33] into the World with ſo many amazing Cir⯑cumſtances attending his Birth, ſhould loſe thoſe precious Senſes, by which alone the ſoci⯑al Commerce of Mankind is upheld and maintained, and that he ſhould be deprived of all Advantages of Education, which could raiſe him to the Character of being the great Man, that ſo many concurring incidents at his Nativity promiſed and betokened, he would be.

One day a Learned Divine, who was of the Univerſity of Glaſcow, but had viſited Oxford, and been acquainted with the chief Men of Science there, happening to be in converſation with the Mother in Law of this Child, ſhe related to him her Son's Misfor⯑tunes, with ſo many Marks of Sorrow, that, ſhe moved the good old Gentleman's Compaſ⯑ſion, and excited in him a deſire, to give her what Relief and Conſolation he could, in this unhappy caſe. His particular inclination to do her good Offices, made him reccollect, that at the time he was at Oxford, he had been in Company with one Doctor Wallis, a Man famous for Learning, who had told him, that he had taught a (born Deaf and Dumb) Man to Write, and to Read, and even to utter ſome ſounds articulately with his Mouth; and, that he told him, he was then going to Commit to Print the Method he made uſe of, in ſo Inſtructing that Perſon, that others, in the like unfortunate Condition, [34] might receive the ſame Benefits and Advan⯑tages from other Maſters, which his Deaf and Dumb Pupil had received from him. A Dumb Man recovering his Speech, or a Blind Man gaining his Sight, or a Deaf one getting his Hearing, could not be more o⯑verjoyed, than Mrs. Campbell was at theſe unexpected Tidings, and ſhe wept for Glad⯑neſs, when he told it. The Good Gentle⯑man Animated and Encouraged her with the kindeſt Promiſes, and to keep alive her hopes, aſſured her he would ſend to one of the chief Bookſellers in London, to enquire after the Book, who would certainly procure it him, if it was to be got, and that after⯑wards he would peruſe it diligently, make himſelf Maſter of Doctor Wallis his Method, and tho' he had many great Works upon his Hands at that time, he would ſteal from his other Studies leiſure enough to compleat ſo Charitable an Office, as teaching the Dumb and Deaf to Read, and to Write, and give her Son, who was by Nature Deprived of them, the Advantages of Speech, as far as Art would permit that Natural Defect to be ſupplied by her Powerful Inter⯑poſition.

When the Mother came Home, the Child, who could hear no knocking, and therefore it muſt be by a ſtrange and inexplicable in⯑ſtinct in Nature, was the firſt, that ran to the Door, and falling in a great fit of Laugh⯑ter [35] (a thing it was not much uſed to before, having on the contrary rather a Melanchol⯑ly caſt of Complexion) it clung round its Mother's Knees, inceſſantly embracing and kiſſing them, as if juſt at that time it had an inſight, into what the Mother had been do⯑ing for it, and into its own Approaching Re⯑lief from its Miſery.

When the Mother came with the Child in her hand to the Father, to tell him the wel⯑come News; the Child burſt afreſh into a great fit of Laughter, which continued for an unuſual ſpace of time; and the ſcene of ſuch reciprocal Affection and Joy between a Wife and her own Husband, on ſo ſignal an occaſion, is a thing, eaſier to be felt by Pa⯑rents of a good Diſpoſition, imagining them⯑ſelves under the ſame Circumſtance, with re⯑gard to a Child they loved with fondneſs, than to be expreſſed or deſcribed by the Pen of any Writer. But it is certain, whenever they ſpoke of this Affair, as any Body, who knows the impatience of Parents for the Welfare of an only Child, may gueſs they muſt be often Diſcourſing it over, and wiſh⯑ing the time was come; the Boy, who uſed ſeldom ſo much as to ſmile at other times, and who could never hear the greateſt noiſe that could be made, would conſtantly look wiſhfully in their Faces, and laugh immode⯑rately, which is a plain Indication, that there was then a wonderful Inſtinct in Na⯑ture [36] as I ſaid before, which made him fore⯑taſte his good Fortune, and, if I may be al⯑lowed the Expreſſion, The Dawnings as it were of the Second ſight, were then Preg⯑nant within him.

To confirm this, the happy hour of his Deliverance being come; and the Doctor having procured Mr. Wallis's Book, came with great Joy, and deſired to ſee his Pupil; ſcarce were the Words out of his Mouth, when the Child happened to come into the Room, and running towards the Doctor, fell on his Knees, kiſſed his Hand eagerly, and Laughed as before, which to me, is a Demonſtration, that he had an inſight into the Good, which the Doctor intended him.

It is certain, that ſeveral Learned Men, who have written concerning the Second ſight, have Demonſtrated by unconteſtable Proofs, and undeniable Arguments, that Children, nay, even Horſes and Cows, ſee the Second ſight, as well as Men and Women advanced in Years. But of this, I ſhall Diſcourſe at large, in its proper Place, having allotted a whole future Chapter for that ſame Subject of Second ſightedneſs.

In about half a Year, the Doctor taught his little Dumb Pupil, Firſt, to know his Letters, then to name any thing whatſoever, to leave off ſome Savage Motions, which he had taken of his own accord, before to ſig⯑nifie his Mind by, and to impart his [37] Thoughts by his Fingers and his Pen, in a Manner as intelligible, and almoſt as ſwift thro' the Eyes, as that is of conveying our Ideas to one another, by our Voices thro' the Condites and Portholes of the Ears. But in little more than two Years, he could Write and Read, as well as any Body, be⯑cauſe a great many People cannot conceive this; and others pretend it is not to be done in Nature: I will a little Diſcourſe upon Doctor Wallis's Foundation, and ſhew in a Manner obvious to the moſt ignorant; how this hitherto, Miſterious help, may be eaſily Adminiſtred to the Deaf, and the Dumb, which ſhall be the Subject of the enſuing Chapter.

But I cannot Conclude this, without tel⯑ling the handſome ſaying, with which this Child, when not quite Six Years old, as ſoon as he thought he could expreſs himſelf well, payed his firſt Acknowledgment to his Ma⯑ſter, and which Promiſed, how great his fu⯑ture Genius was to be, when ſo Witty a Child ripened into Man. The Words, he wrote to him, were theſe, only altered into Engliſh, from the Scotch.

Sir, It is no little Work, you have Ac⯑compliſhed, My Thanks are too poor amends: The World, Sir, ſhall give you Thanks; for as I could not have expreſſed my ſelf without your Teaching me, ſo, thoſe that can talk, tho' they have Eyes, cannot ſee the Things, [38] which I can ſee, and ſhall tell them, ſo that, in doing me this, you have done a Gene⯑ral Service to Mankind.

CHAP. III. The Method of Teaching Deaf and Dumb Perſons to Write, Read, and underſtand a Language.

IT is, I muſt conſeſs, in ſome Meaſure amazing to me, that Men, of any Mo⯑derate Share of Learning, ſhould not natu⯑rally conceive of themſelves, a plain Reaſon for this Art, and know how to Account for the Practicability of it, the Moment they hear the Propoſition advanced, the Reaſons for it, are ſo obvious to the very firſt Con⯑ſideration we can make about it. It will be likewiſe as amazing to me, that the moſt ignorant ſhould not conceive it, after ſo plain a Reaſon is given them for it, as I am now going to ſet down.

To begin: How are Children at firſt taught a Language that can hear? Are they not taught by Sounds? And what are thoſe Sounds, but Token, and Signs to the Ear, importing and ſignifying ſuch and ſuch a Thing? If then, there can be Signs made to the Eye, agreed by the Party teach⯑ing []

[39] the Child, that they ſignifie ſuch and ſuch a Thing, will not the Eye of the Child con⯑vey them to the Mind, as well as the Ear? They are indeed different Marks to different Senſes, but both the one and the other do e⯑qually ſignifie the ſame Things or Notions, according to the Will of the Teacher, and conſequently, muſt have an equal Effect with the Perſon, who is to be inſtructed: For tho' the Manners ſignifying are different, the Things ſignified are the ſame.

For Example; If, after having invented an Alphabet upon the Fingers, a Maſter always keeps Company with a Deaf Child, and teaches it to call for whatſoever it wants, by ſuch Motions of the Fingers, which if put down by Letters, according to each invented Mo⯑tion of each Finger, would form in writing a Word of a Thing, which it wanted; might not he by theſe regular Motions teach it's Eye the ſame Notions of Things, as Sounds do to the Ears of Children that Hear: The Manner of Teaching the Alphabet by Fin⯑gers, is plainly ſet down in the following Table.

When the Deaf Child has Learn't by theſe Motions a good Stock of Words, as Chil⯑dren that hear firſt learn by Sounds, we may methinks call not improperly, the Fin⯑gers of ſuch a Dumb Infant, its Mouth, and the Eye of ſuch a Deaf Child, its Ear. When he has learnt thus far, he muſt be taught to [40] Write the Alphabet, according as it was A⯑dapted to the Motions of his Fingers: As for Inſtance, the five Vowels, a, e, i, o, u, by pointing to the top of the five Fingers, and the other Letters, b, c, d, &c. by ſuch o⯑ther Place or Poſture of a Finger, as in the above-mentioned Table is ſet forth, or other⯑wiſe, as ſhall be agreed upon. When this is done the Marks B, R, E, A, D, (and ſo of all other Words) Correſponding with ſuch Fin⯑gers, conveys thro' his Eyes, unto his Head the ſame Notion, viz. the Thing ſignified, as the Sound we give to thoſe ſame Letters, making the Word Bread, do into our Heads thro' the Ears.

This once done, he may be eaſily taught to underſtand the Parts of Speech, as the Verb, the Noun, Pronoun, &c. and ſo by Rules of Grammar and Syntax, to compound Ideas, and connect his Words into a Lan⯑guage. The Method of which, ſince it is plainly ſet forth in Doctor Wallis's Letter to Mr. Beverly. I ſhall ſet it down by way of Extract; that People in the ſame Circum⯑ſtances with the Perſon we treat of, and of the like Genius, may not have their Talents loſt, for want of the like Aſſiſtance.

When once a Deaf Perſon has learn't ſo far, as to underſtand the common Diſcourſe of others, and to expreſs his Mind (tolerably well in Writing) I ſee no room to doubt, but that (provided Nature has endowed him with [41] a proper Strength of Genius, as other Men that hear) he may become capable (upon fur⯑ther Improvement) of ſuch further Know⯑ledge as is attainable by Reading. For I muſt here join with the Learned Doctor Wallis, in aſſerting (as to the preſent caſe before us) that no Reaſon can be aſſigned, why ſuch a Deaf Perſon may not attain the underſtanding of a Language as perfectly as thoſe that hear; and with the ſame Learned Author, I take upon me to lay down this Propoſition, as certain, that allowing the Deaf Perſon the like Time and Exerciſe, as to other Men is requiſite in order to attain the Perfection of a Language, and the Ele⯑gance of it, he may underſtand as well, and Write as good Language as other Men, and abating only what doth depend upon Sound, as Tones, Cadencies, and ſuch Punctilio's; no whit inferior to what he may attain to, if he had his hearing as others have?

This Extract is moſtly taken out of the In⯑genious Dr. Wallis, and lying hid in that little Book, which is but rarely Inquired af⯑ter and too ſcarcely known; dyed in a Man⯑ner with that Great Man. And as he de⯑ſigned it for the General uſe of Mankind, that Laboured under the Misfortune of loſing thoſe two valuable Talents of Hearing and [53] Speaking, I thought it might not be amiſs (in the Life of ſo particular a Dumb Perſon as I am Writing) to give them this ſmall but particular Fragment of Grammar and Syn⯑tax.

It is Exactly adjuſted to the Engliſh Tongue; Becauſe ſuch are the Perſons, with whom the Dr. had to deal, and ſuch the Perſons whoſe Benefit alone I conſult in this Treatiſe.

One of the chief Perſons, who was taught by Dr. Wallis, was Mr. Alexander Popham, Brother-in-Law (if I am not miſtaken) to the preſent Earl of Oxford; and he was a very great Proficient in this way; and tho' he was born Deaf and Dumb, underſtood the Language ſo well, as to give under his Hand many rare Indications of a Maſterly Genius.

The Uncle of his preſent Sardinian Maje⯑ſty, as I have been credibly informed, had the want of the ſame Organs, and yet was a perfect Stateſman, and wrote in five or ſix different Languages Elegantly well.

Biſhop Burnet in his Book of Travels tells us a Story almoſt incredible; but tells it as a paſſage, that deſerves our belief. It is con⯑cerning a young Lady at Genoa, who was not only Deaf and Dumb, but Blind too (it ſeems) into the Bargain; and this Lady, He aſſures us as a truth, could, by putting her Hand on her Siſters Mouth, know every thing ſhe ſaid.

[54] But to Return back to England, we have many rare Inſtances of our own Country⯑men, the Principal of whom I ſhall mention, as their Names occur to my Memory. Sir John Gawdy, Sir Thomas Knotcliff, Sir [...] Goſtwick, Sir Henry Lydall, and Mr. Richard Lyns of Oxford, were all of this Number, and yet Men Eminent in their ſeveral Capa⯑cities, for underſtanding many Authors, and Expreſſing themſelves in Writing with won⯑derful Facility.

In Hatton-Garden, there now Lives a Miracle of Wit and good Nature, I mean the Daughter of Mr. Loggin, who, tho' born Deaf and Dumb, (and ſhe has a Brother who has the ſame Impediments) yet writes her Mind down upon any Subject with ſuch Acuteneſs, as would Amaze Learned Men themſelves, and put many Students, that have paſſed for Wits, to a Bluſh, to ſee them⯑ſelves ſo far ſurpaſſed by a Woman amidſt that deficiency of the common Organs. If any body ſpeaks a word diſtinctly, this Lady will, by obſerving narrowly the Motion of the ſpeakers Lips, pronounce the Word af⯑terwards very Intelligibly.

As there are a great many Families in Eng⯑land and Ireland, that have ſeveral, and ſome even have five or ſix Dumb Perſons be⯑longing to them. And as a great many more believe it impoſſible for Perſons born Deaf and Dumb to Write and Read, and [55] have thence taken Occaſion to ſay and aſſert that Mr. Campbell could certainly ſpeak, I could never think it a Digreſſion in the Hi⯑ſtory of this Man's Life to ſet down the Grammar by which he himſelf was taught, and which he has taught others, (Two of which Scholars of his are boys in this Town) partly to confute the Slander made againſt him, and partly for the help of others Dumb and Deaf, whoſe Parents may by theſe Ex⯑amples be Encouraged to get them taught.

CHAP. IV. Young Duncan Campbell returns with his Mo⯑ther to Edinburg. The Earl of Argyle's o⯑verthrow. The Ruin of Mr. Archibald Campbell, and his Death: Young Duncan's practice in Prediction at Edinburg, while yet a Boy.

OUR Young Boy now between ſix and ſeven Years of Age, half a Highlander and half a Laplander, delighted in wearing a little Bonnet and Plaid, thinking it looked very Manly in his Countrymen, and his Father, aſ⯑ſoon as he was out of his Hanging Sleeves and left off his Boys Veſt, indulged him with that kind of Dreſs, which is truly Antique and Heroick. In this early part of his Nonage he was brought to Edinburgh by his Mother in Law, where I my ſelf grew afreſh ac⯑quainted with her, his Father being then but lately Dead. Juſt after the Civil Commo⯑tion, [56] and off and on have known him ever ſince, and Converſed with him very frequent⯑ly during that ſpace of time which now is about three or four and thirty Years, ſo that whatever I ſay concerning him in the future Pages, I ſhall relate to the Reader from my own certain Knowledge, which, as I reſolve to continue Anonymous, may perhaps not have ſo much Weight and Authority as if I had prefix'd my Name to the Account. Be that as it will, there are hundreds of living Wit⯑neſſes, that will juſtifie each Action I relate, and his own future Actions while he lives will procure belief and credit to the precedent ones which I am going to record; ſo that if many do remain Infidels to my Relations and will not allow them Exact (the fate of many as credible and more Important Hiſtorians than my ſelf) I can however venture to flatter my ſelf that greater will be the Number of thoſe, who will have a Faith in my Writings, than of thoſe, who will reject my Accounts as Incredible.

Having juſt ſpoke of the Deceaſe of Mr. Archibald Campbell, the Father of our Young Duncan Campbell: It will not be amiſs here to obſerve how true the Predictions of his Lapland Mother were, which aroſe from Se⯑cond Sight, according to the Notices given by the Child's Father to its Grandfather in his Letter from Lapland even before it was born; which ſnews that the Infant held this Se⯑cond [57] Sighted Power or Occult faculty of Di⯑vination even by Inheritance.

In the Year 1685. the Duke of Monmouth and the Earl of Argyle ſailed out of the Ports of Holland without any Obſtruction, the Earl of Argyle in May with three Ships for Scot⯑land, and Monmouth in June with the ſame Number for England.

The Earl ſetting out firſt, was alſo the firſt at Landing. Argyll having attempted to Land in the North of Scotland, and being diſappointed by the Vigilance of the Biſhop of the Orcades, Landed in the Weſt, and Incamped at Dunſtafne Caſtle in the Province of Lorn, which had belonged to him. He omitted nothing that might draw over to him all the Malecontents in the Kingdom, whom he thought more Numerous than they after⯑wards appeared to be. He diſperſed about his Declarations, wherein, after proteſting, that he had taken up Arms only in Defence of Religion and the Laws, againſt an injuſt Uſurper (ſo he Stiled King James the Second) he invited all good Proteſtants, and ſuch Scotch as would aſſert the Liberty to join him a⯑gainſt a Prince, he ſaid, was got into the Throne, to ruin the Reformation, and to bring in Popery and Arbitrary Power. Next he ſent Letters to thoſe he thought his Friends, (among whom was Mr. Archibald Campbell, who according to the vaſt deference payed by the Scots to their Chief, joined him, tho, [58] in his heart of a quite different Principle to call them to his Aſſiſtance: He De⯑tached two of his Sons to make Inroades in the Neighbourhood, and compel ſome by Threats, others by mighty Promiſes to join him. All his Contrivances could not raiſe him above three Thouſand Men, with whom he Incamped in the Iſle of Boot, where he was ſoon in a manner Beſieged by the Earl of Dunbarton, with the King's Forces, and ſeveral other Bodies Commanded by the Duke of Gordon, the Marquiſs of Athol, the Earl of Arran, and other Great Men, who came from all Parts to quench the Fire before it grew to a Head.

The Earl of Argyle being obliged to quit a Poſt he could not make good, went over into a Part of the Country of his own Name, where having haſtily Fortified a Caſtle called Ellingrey, he put into it the Arms and Am⯑munition taken out of his Ships, which lay at Anchor under the Cannon of a Fort; he E⯑rected near that Place. There his Rout be⯑gan; for going out from the Caſtle with his Forces to make an Incurſion, one of his Par⯑ties was Defeated by the Marquiſs of Athol, who ſlew four hundred of his Men; and Captain Hamilton who Attacked his Ships with ſome of the King's, and took them without any reſiſtance.

[59] The Earl of Dunbarton advancing towards him, at the ſame time, by long Marches, while he Endeavoured to ſecure himſelf by Rivers, ſurprized him paſſing the Clyde in the Village of Killern, as he was Marching towards Lenox. Dunbarton coming upon them at Night, would have ſtaid till the next Day to Attack the Rebels, but they gave him not ſo much time, for they paſſed the River in the Night, in ſuch Confuſion, that being overcome with fear; they diſperſed as ſoon as over. Argyle could ſcarce rally ſo many as would make him a ſmall Guard, which was ſoon ſcattered again; Dunbarton having paſſed the River, and divided his For⯑ces to purſue thoſe that fled. Argyle had ta⯑ken Guides to Conduct him to Galloway; but they miſtaking the way, and leading him into a Bog, moſt of thoſe, that ſtill followed him, quitted their Horſes, every Man ſhift⯑ing for himſelf.

Argyle himſelf was making back alone to⯑wards the Clyde, when two Reſolute Servants, belonging to an Officer in the King's Army meeting him, tho' they knew him not, bid him Surrender. He fir'd at, and miſſed them; but they took better Aim, and wounded him with a Piſtol Ball. Then the Earl drawing his two Piſtols out of the Holſters, quitted his Horſe, that was quite tired, and took the River. A Country Fellow, who came with thoſe two, that had firſt aſſaulted him pur⯑ſued [60] him with a Piſtol in his Hand; the Earl would have fired one of his, but the flint fail⯑ing he was dangerouſly wounded in the Head, by the Peaſant. He diſcovered himſelf, as he fell Senſeleſs; crying out, Unfortunate Argyle. This Nobleman how far ſoever he may be thought miſled in Principle, was certainly in his Perſon a very Brave and a very Gallant Hero. They made haſt to draw him out and bring him to himſelf; after which being delivered up to the Officers, the Erring unfortunate Great Man was Conducted to Edingburgh and there Beheaded.

Many Gentlemen that followed the For⯑tunes of this Great Man, tho' not in his Death they ſhared in all the other Calamities at⯑tending his overthrow. They moſt of them fled into the remoteſt Iſles and the obſcureſt corners of all Scotland: Contented with the ſaving of their Lives; they grew Exiles and Baniſhed Men of their own making, and Abdicated their Eſtates before they were known to be Forfeited, becauſe, for fear of being informed againſt by the Common Fel⯑lows they Commanded, they durſt not ap⯑pear to lay their Claims. Of this Number was Mr. Archibald Campbell, and this new Diſaſter wounded him deep into the very Heart, after ſo many late miſadventures, and ſent him untimely to the Grave. He perfectly pined away and waſted; he was ſix Months dying Inch by Inch, and the Dif⯑ference between his leaſt Breath and his way [61] of Breathing during all that time, was only, that he Expired with a greater Sigh than he ordinarily fetched every time when he drew his Breath.

Every thing the Lapland Lady had Pre⯑dicted ſo long before, being thus come to paſs, we may the leſs admire at the wonders performed by her Son, when we conſider this faculty of Divination to be ſo derived to him from her, and Grown as it were Here⯑ditary.

Our Young Prophet, who had taught moſt of his little Companions to converſe with him by Finger, was the Head at every little Paſtime and Game they Played at. Marbles (which he uſed to call Children's playing at Bowls) yielded him mighty Diverſion; and he was ſo dexterous and Artiſt at ſhooting that little Alablaſter Globe from between the end of his fore-finger and the knuckle of his Thumb, that he ſeldom miſſed hitting Plum (as the Boys call it) the Marble he aimed at, tho' at the diſtance of two or three yards. The Boys always when they played coveted to have him on their ſide, and by hearing that he foretold other things, uſed to conſult him, when they made their little Matches (which were things of great Importance in their Thoughts) who ſhould get the Victory. He uſed commonly to leave theſe trifles undeci⯑ded, but if ever he gave his Opinion in theſe trivial Affairs, the Perſons fared well by [62] their Conſultation, for his Judgment about them was like a petty Oracle, and the end always Anſwered his Prediction. But I would have my Reader imagin (that tho' our Duncan Campbell was himſelf but a Boy) He was not conſulted only by Boys; his Pene⯑tration and Inſight into things of a high Nature, got Air, and being atteſted by cre⯑dible Witneſſes won him the Eſteem of Per⯑ſons of Mature Years and Diſcretion.

If a Beautiful young Virgin languiſhed for a Husband; or a Widow's Mind was in La⯑bour to have a ſecond venture of Infants by another Spouſe: If a Houſekeeper had loſt any thing belonging to her Maſter, ſtill little Duncan Campbell was at Hand; he was the Oracle to be applied to, and the little Chalk'd Circle, where he was diverting himſelf with his play-fellows near the Croſs at Edinburgh, was frequented with as much ſolicitation and as much credit, as the Tripos of Apollo was at Delphos in Ancient times.

It was highly Entertaining to ſee a Young Blooming Beauty come and ſlily pick up the Boy from his Company, carry him home with as much eagerneſs as ſhe would her Gallant, becauſe ſhe knew ſhe ſhould get the Name of her Gallant out of him before he went, and bribe him with a Sugar Plumb to write down the Name of a Young Scotch Peer in a green Ribbon that her Mouth watered after.

[63] How often after he has been wallowing in the duſt have I my ſelf ſeen nice ſqueamiſh Widows help him up in their gilded Chariots and give him a Pleaſant ride with them, that he might tell them they ſhould not long lie a lone; little Duncan Campbell had as much buſineſs upon his Hands as the Parſons of all the Pariſhes in Edinburgh. He com⯑monly was conſulted and named the Couples before the Miniſter joined them; thus he grew a rare Cuſtomer to the Toyſhop, from whence he moſt an end received Fees and Rewards for his Advices. If Lady Betty ſuch a one was foretold that ſhe ſhould cer⯑tainly have Beau ſuch a one in Marriage; then little Duncan was ſure to have a Hobby-Horſe from the Toyſhop as a Reward for the promiſed Fop. If ſuch a Widow that was ugly but very Rich, was to be puſhed hard for as ſhe pretended (tho' in reality ea⯑ſily won) little Duncan upon enſuring her ſuch a Captain or ſuch a Lieutenant Colonel, was ſure to be preſented from the ſame Child's Warehouſe with a very handſome Drum, and a Silver'd Trumpet.

If a Seampſtreſs had an Itching deſire for a Parſon, ſhe would upon the firſt Aſſurance of him, give this little Apollo a Paſt-board Temple or Church finely painted and a Ring of Bells into the Bargain, from the ſame Toy-Office.

[64] If a Houſekeeper loſt any Plate, the Thief was certain to be catched, provided ſhe took little Maſter into the Store-Room, and asked him the Queſtion, after ſhe had given him his Belly full of Sweet-Meats,

Neither were the Women only his conſul⯑ters; the Grave Merchants, who were An⯑xious for many ventures at Sea, applied to the Boy for his Opinion of their ſecurity, and they looked upon his Opinion to be as ſafe as the Inſurance Office for Ships. If he but told them, tho' the Ship was juſt ſet Sail and a Tempeſt roſe juſt after on the Ocean, that it would have a ſucceſsful Voyage, gain the Port deſigned, and return home ſafe Laden with the Exchange of Traffick and Mer⯑chandize; they diſmiſſed all their Fears, ba⯑niſh'd all their Cares, ſet their Hearts at eaſe, and ſafe in his Opinion, enjoyed a Calm of Mind amidſt a Storm of Weather.

I my ſelf knew one Count Cog an Eminent Gameſter, who was a Perſon ſo far from be⯑ing of a Credulous Diſpoſition that he was an unbeliever in ſeveral Points of Religion, and the next Door to an Infidel. Yet as much as he was a Stranger to Faith, he was Ma⯑ſtered and overpowered ſo far, in his incredu⯑lity, by the Strange Events, which he had ſeen come frequently to paſs from the Predictions of this Child, that he had commonly daily acceſs to this Boy to learn his more adverſe and more proſperous Hours of Gaming. At [65] firſt indeed he would try, when the Child foretold him his ill Fortune, whether it would prove true, and relying upon the mere hazard and turn of the Dye, he had always (as he obſerved) a run of ill Luck on thoſe forbid⯑den Days, as he never fail'd of good if he choſe the fortunate Hours directed by the Boy. One time above all the reſt, juſt be⯑fore he was departing from Edinburgh, and when the Seaſon of Gaming was almoſt over, moſt Perſons of Wealth and Diſtinction with⯑drawing for Pleaſure to their Seats in the Country, he came to young Duncan Campbell to conſult; and was extremely ſolicitous to know, how happily or unluckily he ſhould end that Term (as we may call it) of the Game⯑ſters weighty Buſineſs, viz. Play, there be⯑ing a long Vacation likely to enſue, when the gaming Table would be empty, and the Box and Dice lie idle and ceaſe to rattle. The Boy encourag'd him ſo well with his Predi⯑ctions on this occaſion, that Count Cog went to the Toy-ſhop, brought him from thence a very fine Ivory T Totum (as Children call [...] pretty Set of painted and guilded little Nine pins and a Bowl, and a large Bag of Marbles and Alloys: And what do you think the Gameſter got by this little Preſent and the Prediction of the Boy? Why without telling the leaſt title of Falſhood, within the ſpace of the laſt Week's Play, the Gains of Count Cog, really amounted to no leſs than [66] Twenty Thouſand Pounds Sterling neat Mo⯑ney.

Having mention'd theſe Perſons of ſo many different Profeſſions by borrow'd Names, and perhaps in a manner ſeemingly Ludicrous; I would not have my Reader from hence take occaſion of looking upon my account as fabu⯑lous: If I was not to make uſe of borrow'd Names, but to tell the real Characters and Names of the Perſons, I ſhould do injury to theſe old Friends of his, who firſt gave Cre⯑dit to our young Seer, while I am endeavour⯑ing to gain him the Credit and Eſteem of new ones, in whoſe way it has not yet happen'd to conſult him. For many Perſons are very willing to ask ſuch Queſtions as the foregoing ones; but few or none willing to have the Publick told they ask'd them; tho' they ſuc⯑ceeded in their Wiſh and were amply ſatisfy'd in their Curioſity. I have repreſented them perhaps in a ludicrous manner, becauſe tho' they are miſterious Actions they are ſtill the Actions of a [...], and as the Rewards he re⯑ceiv'd for his Advices did really and truly conſiſt of ſuch Toys as I mentioned, ſo could they not be treated or in a more ſerious man⯑ner, without the Author's incurring a magi⯑ſerial Air of Pedantry, and ſhewing a Mind, as it were, of being mighty Grave and Senten⯑tious about Trifles. There are however ſome thing of greater Weight and Importance [...] by him in a more advanc'd Stage of Life, [67] which will be deliver'd to the Publick with that Exactitude and Gravity which becomes them; and in ſome of thoſe Relations, the Names of ſome Perſons, that are concerned, ſhall be printed, becauſe it will not at all be injurious to them, or becauſe I have their leave, and they are ſtill living to teſtify what I ſhall relate.

In the mean time as the greateſt part of his Non-age was ſpent in predicting almoſt innu⯑merable things, which are all however redu⯑cible to the general Heads above-mention'd; I will not tire the Reader with any particu⯑lars; but inſtead of doing that, before I come to ſhew his Power of Divination, in the more active Parts of his Life, and when after re⯑moving from Edinburgh to London he at laſt made it his publick Profeſſion: I ſhall ac⯑count how ſuch Divinations may be made, and divert the Reader with many rare Ex⯑amples (taken from ſeveral faithful and un⯑doubted Hiſtorians) of Perſons, who have done the like before him, ſome in one way, and ſome in another; tho' in this he ſeems to be peculiar, and to be (if I may be allow'd the Expreſſion) a Species by himſelf alone in the Talent of Prediction; that he has colle⯑ded within his own individual Capacity all the Methods, which others ſeverally us'd, and with which they were differently and ſingly gifted in their ſeveral ways of fore-ſeeing and fore-telling.

[68] This Art of Prediction is not attainable any otherwiſe, than by theſe Three Ways; firſt it is done by the Company of Familiar Spirits and Genii, which are of Two Sorts; ſome Good and ſome Bad; who tell the gif⯑ted Perſon the things of which he informs other People. 2dly, It is perform'd by the Second Sight, which is very various, and dif⯑fers in moſt of the Poſſeſſors, it being but a very little in ſome, very extenſive and conſtant in others; beginning with ſome in their Infancy, and leaving them before they come to Years; happening to others in a mid⯑dle Age, to others again in an old Age that ne⯑ver had it before and laſting only for a term of Years, and now and then for a very ſhort period of Time; and in ſome intermitting, like fits as it were of Viſion, that leave them for a time, and then return to be as ſtrong in them as ever, and it being in a manner Hereditary to ſome Families, whoſe Child⯑ren have it from their Infancy without inter⯑miſſion to a great old Age, and even to the time of their Death, which they often fore⯑tell before it comes to paſs to a Day, nay even to an Hour. 3dly, It is attain'd by the dili⯑gent Study of the lawful Part of the Art of Magick.

Before I give the Reader an account (as I ſhall do in Three diſtinct Diſcourſes) 1ſt, con⯑cerning the Intercourſe which Familiar Spi⯑rits, viz. the good and bad Genii have had [69] and continue to have to a great degree with ſome ſelect Parts of Mankind, 2dly, concern⯑ing the wonderful and almoſt miraculous Power of a Second Sight, with which many beyond all controverſy have been extraor⯑dinarily but viſibly gifted; and 3dly, con⯑cerning the pitch of Perfection, to which the magick Science has been carry'd and promo⯑ted by ſome adepts in that miſterious Art; I will premiſe a few particulars about the Ge⯑nii, which attended our little Duncan Camp⯑bell, and about the Second Sight, which he had when yet a Child, and when we may much more eaſily believe, that the Wonders, he perform'd and wrote of, muſt have been ra⯑ther brought about by the intervention of ſuch Genii and the mediation of ſuch a Sight; than that he could have invented ſuch Fables concerning them, and compaſſed ſuch Predi⯑ctions as ſeem'd to want their aſſiſtance, by the mere dint of a Child's Capacity.

One Day, I remember, when he was a⯑bout Nine Years of Age, going early to the Houſe, where he and his Mother liv'd, and it being before his Mother was ſtirring, I went into little Duncan Campbell's Room to divert myſelf with him, I found him ſitting up in his Bed with his Eyes broad open, but as motionleſs as if he had been aſleep, or even (if it had not been for a lively beautiful Co⯑lour which the little pretty fair Silver Hair'd Boy always had in his Cheeks) as if he had [70] been quite dead; he did not ſeem ſo much as to breath; the Eylids of him were ſo fix'd and immovable, that the Eylaſhes did not ſo much as once ſhake, which the leaſt Motion ima⯑ginable muſt agitate; not to ſay that he was like a Perſon in an Exſtacy, he was at leaſt in what (we commonly call) a Brown Study to the higheſt degree, and for the largeſt ſpace of time I ever knew. I, who had been fre⯑quently inform'd by People, who have been preſent at the Operations of Second Sighted Perſons, that, at the Sight of a Viſion, the Eylids of the Perſon are erected, and the Eyes continue ſtaring till the Object vaniſhes, I (Iſay) ſate myſelf ſoftly down on his Bed-ſide, and with a quiet Amazement obſerv'd him, avoiding diligently any Motion, that might give him the leaſt diſturbance, or cauſe in him any avocation or diſtraction of Mind from the Buſineſs he was ſo intent upon. I re⯑mark'd that he held his Head ſide-ways with his Mouth wide open and in a liſt'ning Po⯑ſture, and that after ſo lively a manner, as, at firſt general thought, made me forget his Deafneſs and plainly imagin he heard ſome⯑thing, till the Second thought of Reflection brought into my Mind the Misfortune that ſhut up all Paſſage for any Sound through his Ears. After a ſtedfaſt Gaze, which laſted about Seven Minutes, he ſmiled, and ſtretch'd his Arms as one recovering from a Fit of In⯑dolence, and rubb'd his Eyes; then turning []

[71] towards me, he made the Sign of a Salute, and hinted to me, upon his Fingers, his deſire for Pen, Ink and Paper, which I reach'd him from a little Desk, that ſtood at his Bed's⯑feet.

Placing the Paper upon his Knees he wrote me the following Lines, which together with my Anſwers I preſerve by me, for their Ra⯑rity, to this very Day, and which I have tranſcribed Word for Word, as they form a little Series of Dialogue.

Duncan Campbell. I am ſorry I cant ſtay with you; but I ſhall ſee my pretty Youth and my Lamb by, and by, in the Fields, near a little Coppice, or Grove, where I go often to play with them, and I would not loſe their Company for the whole World; for they and I are mighty familiar to⯑gether, and the Boy tells me every thing, that gets me my Reputation among the Ladies and Nobility, and you muſt keep it Secret.

My Queſtion. I will be ſure to keep it ſe⯑cret: But how do you know you are to meet them there to Day? Did the little Boy ap⯑point you?

Duncan Campbell. Yeſs he did, and ſigni⯑fy'd, that he had ſeveral things to predict to me, concerning People, that, he fore-knew, would come to me, the Week following, to ask me Queſtions.

My Queſtion. But what was you ſtaring at, when I came in?

Duncan Campbell. Why, at that little Boy, [72] that goes along with the Lamb I ſpeak of, and 'twas then he made me the Appointment.

My Queſtion. How does he do it? Does he write?

Duncan Campbell. No, he writes ſometimes, but oftner he ſpeaks with his Fingers, and mighty ſwift; No Man can do it ſo quick, or write half ſo ſoon; he has a little Bell in his Hand, like that, which my Mother makes me a Sign to ſhake, when ſhe wants the Servants; with That he tickles my Brain ſtrangely, and gives me an incredible Delight of feeling in the inſide of my Head; he uſually wakes me with it in the Morning, when he comes to make me an Appointment. I fan⯑cy, 'tis what you call Hearing, which makes me mighty deſirous I could hear in your way; 'tis ſwee⯑ter to the feeling, methinks, than any thing is to the taſt; It is juſt as if my Head was tickled to Death, as my Nurſe uſed to tickle my Sides; but 'tis a different feeling, for it makes things like little Strings, tremble in my Temples, and behind my Ears. Now I remember, I will tell you what 'tis like, that makes me believe 'tis like your Hearing, and that ſtrange thing, which you, that can ſpeak, call Sound or Noiſe: Becauſe, when I was at Church with my Mo⯑ther, who told me the Bells could be heard ring⯑ing a Mile off: As I was kneeling on the Bench, and leaning over the top of the Pew and gnaw⯑ing the Board, every time, the Man pull'd the Rope, I thought all my Head beat, as if it would come to Pieces, but yet it pleaſed me, [73] methought, rather than pain'd me, and I would be always gnawing the Board, when the Man pull'd the Rope, and I told my Mother the rea⯑ſon: The feeling of that was ſomething like the little Bell, but only that made my Head throb as if it would break, and this tickles me and makes, as it were, little Strings on the back of my Ears dance and tremble like any thing, is not that like your way of Hearing?—If it be it is a ſweet thing to hear.—It is more plea⯑ſant than to ſee the fineſt Colours in the World,—it is ſomething like being tickled in the Noſe with a Feather till one Sneezes, or like the feeling, after one ſtrikes the Leg, when it has been numb or aſleep, only with this dif⯑ference, that thoſe Two ways give a Pain and the other a Pleaſure; I remember too, when I had a great Cold for about Two Months, I had a feeling ſomething like it, but that was blunt, dull, confus'd and troubleſome. Is not this like what you call Hearing?

My Queſtion. It is the fineſt kind of hear⯑ing, my Dear, it is what we call Muſick. But what ſort of a Boy is that, that meets you? And what ſort of a Lamb?

Duncan Campbell. Oh! tho' they are like other Boys and other Lambs which you ſee, they are a Thouſand Times prettier and finer; you never ſaw ſuch a Boy nor ſuch a Lamb in your Life-time.

My Queſtion. How big is he? As big as you are? And what ſort of a Boy is he?

[74] Duncan Campbell. He is a little little pret⯑ty Boy, about as tall as my Knee, his Face is as white as Snow, and ſo are his little Hands; his Cheeks are as red as a Cherry, and ſo are his Lips; and, when he Breaths, it makes the Air more perfum'd than my Mother's ſweet Baggs that ſhe puts among the Linnen; he has got a Crown of Roſes, Cowſlips, and other Flowers upon his Head, ſuch as the Maids gather in May; his Hair is like fine Silver Threads, and ſhine like the Beams of the Sun; he wears a looſe Veil down to his Feet, that is as Blue as the Sky in a clear Day, and embroider'd with Spangles, that look like the brighteſt Stars in the Night; he carries a Silver Bell in one Hand, and a Book and Pencil in the other; and he and the little Lamb will dance and leap about me in a Ring as high as my Head; the Lamb has got a little Silver Collar with Nine little Bells upon it; and every little piece of Wooll upon its Back, that is as white Milk, is tied up all round it in Puffs like a little Miſſes Hair, with Ribbons of all Colours; and round its Head too are little Roſes and Violets ſtuck very thick into the Wooll that grows upon its Forehead, and behind and be⯑tween its Ears in the Shape of a Diadem. They firſt meet me dancing thus; and after they have danc'd ſometime, the little Boy writes down wonderful things in his Book, which I write down in mine; then they dance again, till he rings his Bell, and then they are gone [75] all of a ſudden I know not where; but I feel the tickling in the inſide of my Head caus'd by the Bell leſs and leſs, 'til I don't feel it at all, and then I go home, read over my Leſſon in my Book, and when I have it by heart, I burn the written Leaves, according as the little Boy bids me, or he would let me have no more. But I hear the little Bell again, the little Boy is angry with me, he pull'd me Twice by the Ear, and I would not diſpleaſe him for any thing; ſo I muſt get up and go immediately, to the Joy and Delight of my Life.

I told him he might, if he would promiſe me to tell me further another time; he ſaid he would, if I would keep it ſecret. I told him I would, and ſo we parted; tho' juſt be⯑fore he went, he ſaid he ſmelt ſome Veniſon, and he was ſure they would ſhortly have ſome for Dinner; and nothing was ſo ſure as that, my Man had my Orders to bring a Side of Veniſon to me the next Day to Mrs. Camp⯑bell's, for I had been hunting, and came thi⯑ther from the death of a Deer that Morning; and intended as uſual to make a ſtay there for Two or Three Days.

There are I know many Men of ſevere Principles, and who are more Strict, Grave and Formal, in their manner of thinking, than they are Wiſe; who will be apt to judge of theſe relations, as things merely Fabulous and Chimerical, and, not contented with be⯑ing diſ-believers by themſelves, will la⯑bour [76] to inſinuate into others this pernicious Notion, that it is a ſign of Infirmity and Weakneſs in the Head, to yield them Credit. But tho' I could eaſily argue theſe Sir Gravities down; tho' a Sentence or Two would do their Buſineſs, put them beyond the Power of replying, and ſtrike them Dumb, yet do I thing it not worth my while; their greateſt and moſt wonted Objection againſt theſe Eu⯑demons and Kakodemons, being, that it ariſes all from the work of fancy, in Perſons of a me⯑lancholick Blood. If we conſider the nature of this Child's Dialogue with me, will it not be more whimſically ſtrange and miraculous, to ſay, that a Child of Nine Years old had only a fancy of ſuch things as theſe, of which it had never heard any Body give an account, and that it could by the mere ſtrength of Ima⯑gination predict ſuch things as really after came to paſs, than it is (when it does ſo ſtrangely predict things) to believe the Child does it, in the manner itſelf owns it does, which is by the intervention of a good Demon, or a happy Genius. Departing therefore from theſe ſingular wiſe Mens Opinions, who will believe nothing Excellent can happen to o⯑thers, which it has not been their Lot to en⯑joy a ſhare of, I ſhall take my farewel haſtily of them (without looſing my own time or theirs) in the Words of the ingenious and learned Monſieur le Clerc. Acerbos homines non Moror, Indignos quippe, qui haec ſtudia [77] tractent, aut quorum Judicii ulla ratio habe⯑etur.

I ſhall rather ſee how far theſe things have lain open to the Eyes of, and been explain'd by the ancient Sages; I will relate who a⯑mong them were happy in their Genii, and who among the Moderns, whoſe Examples may be Authorities for our Belief; I will ſet down as clearly as I can, what Perception Men have had of Genii or Spirits, by the ſenſe of ſeeing, what by the ſenſe of hearing, what by the ſenſe of feeling, touching or ta⯑ſting, and in fine, what Perception others have had of theſe Genii by all the Senſes, what by Dreams and what by Magick, a thing rarely to be met with at once in any ſingle Man, and which ſeems particular to the Child, who was the Subject of our laſt little hiſtorical Account. When I have brought Examples and the Opinions of wiſe Philoſophers, and the Evidence of undeniable Witneſſes, which one would think ſufficient to evince Perſons of the Commerce Men have with Spirits, if they were not paſt all ſenſe of Conviction: I ſhall, not ſo much to corrobo⯑rate what I ſay, as to ſhame ſome Wiſeacres, who would by their frail Reaſon ſcan all things, and pretend to ſolve the Myſteries aſcribed to Spirits as Facts merely natural, and who would baniſh from the Thoughts of Men all belief of Spirits whatſoever, I ſhall I ſay (in order to put to ſhame theſe Wiſe⯑acres, [78] if they have any Shame left) produce the Opinions of the Fathers as Divines, ſhew the Doctrines of Spirits in general to be con⯑ſiſtent with Chriſtianity, that they are de⯑liver'd in the Scripture and by Chriſtian Tra⯑dition, in which if they will not acquieſce, I ſhall leave them to the Labyrinth of their own wild Opinions, which in the end will ſo perplex their Judgments of things, that they will be never able to extricate them⯑ſelves, and theſe different Heads will be the Subject of the Chapter enſuing, and will (or I am greatly miſtaken) form both an inſtru⯑ctive edifying and entertaining Diſcourſe, for a Reader really and truly intelligent, and that has a good taſte and reliſh for ſublime things.

CHAP. V. An Argument proving the Perception, which Men have, and have had, by all the Senſes, as ſeeing, hearing, &c. of Demons, Genii, or familiar Spirits.

IT is ſaid in the Ninth Book of the Mo⯑rals of Ariſtotle, it is better to come at the probable Knowledge of ſome things a⯑bove us in the Heavens, than to be capable of giving many Demonſtrations relating to things here below, This is no doubt an ad⯑mirable Propoſition, and ſpeaks the lofty aims [79] of that ſublime Mind from whence it pro⯑ceeded. Among all the diſquiſitions in this kind, none ſeem to me more excellent, than thoſe, which treat concerning the Genii, that attend upon Men and guide them in the A⯑ctions of Life. A Genius or Demon of the good Kind is a ſort of mediate Being, between Humane and Divine, which gives the Mind of Man a pleaſant Conjunction with Angelick and Celeſtial Faculties, and brings down to Earth a faint participation of the Joys of Heaven. That there have been ſuch fortu⯑nate Attendants upon wiſe Men, we have many rare Inſtances. They have been aſcri⯑bed to Socrates, Ariſtotle, Plotinus, Porphyri⯑us, Jamblicus, Chicus, Scaliger and Cardan. The moſt celebrated of all theſe Ancients was Socrates; and as for his having a Genius or Demon, we have the Teſtimonies of Plato, Xenophon and Antiſthenes, his Contemporaries, confirm'd by Laertius, Plutarch, Maximus Ty⯑rius, Dion Chryſoſtonius, Cicero, Apuleius, Fi⯑cinus and others, many of the Moderns be⯑ſides Tertullian, Origen, Clemens Alexandrinus, Auſtin and others; and Socrates himſelf in Plato's Theage, ſays: By ſome Divine Lot I have a certain Demon, which has followed me from my Childhood as an Oracle; and in the ſame place intimates that the way he gain'd his Inſtruction was by hearing the Demon's Voice. Nothing is certainly ſo eaſy as for Men to be able to contradict things tho' ne⯑ver [80] ſo well atteſted with ſuch an air of Truth, as to make the Truth of the Hiſtory doubted by others as well as themſelves, where no demonſtrative Proof can be brought to con⯑vince them. This has been the eaſy Task of thoſe who object againſt the Demon of So⯑crates; but when no demonſtrative Proof is to be had on either ſide, does not Wiſdom incline us to lean to the moſt Probable? Let us then conſider whether the Evidences are not more credible, and Witneſſes of ſuch a thing are not Perſons of more Authority, than theſe Men are, who vouchſafe to give no reaſon but their own Incredulity for maintaining the contrary, and whether thoſe therefore by the right rule of judging, ought not much ſooner than theſe, to gain over our Aſſent to their Aſſertions?

We will however, laying aſide the Hiſto⯑ries of thoſe ancient Times, the ſenſe where⯑of, by various Readings and Interpretations being put upon the Words, is render'd ob⯑ſcure and almoſt unintelligible, deſcend to more modern Relations, the Facts whereof ſhall be placed beyond doubt, by reaſon of the Evidences we will bring to atteſt them, and ſhall conſequently prove the perception Men have of Spirits or Genii by every Senſe.

CHAP. VI. A Narrative of Mr. Campbell's coming to London and taking upon him the Profeſſion of a Predictor; together with an Account of many ſtrange things that came to paſs juſt as he foretold.

TO proceed on regularly with the Life of young Duncan Campbell, I muſt let the Reader know that he continued thus con⯑verſing with his little Genius, as is ſet forth above in the Dialogue he had with me, and predicting many things of the like Nature, as I have deſcribed, till the Year 1694. when he was juſt Fourteen Years of Age, and then he left Scotland.

But before I come to ſpeak of the manner of his departure from thence, his half native Country, inaſmuch as his Father was of that Country, and he had his Education there. (what Education he could have being Deaf and Dumb) I muſt let the Reader know that in the Year 1692. my very good Friend Mrs. Campbell, his Mother in Law, died, and left [125] him there at Edinburgh, an Orphan of Twelve Years of Age.

He was, I may venture to ſay, the moſt beautiful Boy of that Age I ever knew; and the ſenſible Reader, who conſiders a Child of good Birth, with the Misfortunes of being Deaf and Dumb, left Fatherleſs and Mother⯑leſs in the wide World, at Twelve Years Old, without any Competency for his Maintain⯑ance and Support, without any Relations, in a manner, that knew him or aſſiſted him, all the little Fortune, his Father had, having been loſt in the civil Commotions in Scotland, as I have related above, need not hear me deſcribe the Compaſſion, I, and many more, had for him; becauſe ſuch a Reader muſt certainly feel in his own Boſom the ſame live⯑ly Acts of Pity and Commiſeration, at the hearing of ſuch a Miſhap, as I had at the ſee⯑ing it, or at leaſt as I have now reviv'd a⯑freſh within me at the relating it.

However, it came ſo to paſs, that a Perſon of the Name of Campbell, and who was a di⯑ſtant Relation of the Boy, though he himſelf was but in indifferent Circumſtances, was reſolv'd to ſee him provided for one way or another, in a manner ſomewhat ſuitable to his Condition, and till that Time to take the beſt care of him himſelf, that he was able.

Several Ladies of Quality, who had known his Perfections, coveted to make the Boy one of their Domeſticks, as a Page, or a Play⯑fellow [126] to their Children; for though he could not ſpeak, he had ſuch a Vivacity in all his Actions, ſuch a ſprightlineſs of Behaviour, and ſuch a Merriment accompanying all his Geſtures, that he afforded more Entertain⯑ment, than the prettieſt and wittieſt little Pratlers at thoſe Years are wont to do. Mr. Campbell had certainly accepted of ſome of theſe fortunate Offers for his little Couſin, which were many of them likely to prove very Advantageous, if it had not been put in his Head by ſome Friends, particularly myſelf, that if he had a mind to diſpoſe of the Boy in that manner, the beſt way he could take, would be, to preſent him to the late Earl of Argyle, who for his Name ſake, and for his Father's ſake, as well as the Qualifications and Endowments of the Boy, would more naturally (according to all Pro⯑bability) take a greater pleaſure and delight in him, and conſequently provide better for him, and with a more laſting Care, than any other Perſon of Quality, that had a ſudden liking to him which might change, and took him as a Stranger out of a bare Cu⯑rioſity. Mr. Campbell was by theſe Reaſons over-rul'd in the diſpoſal of his little Dumb Prophetical Couſin, as he call'd him, and re⯑ſolv'd that an Offer ſhould be made of him to the preſent illuſtrious Duke of Argyle's moſt noble Father. But it ſo unfortunately hap⯑pened, that the Earl making very much a [127] longer ſtay at London, than was expected, Mr. Campbell, the Uncle, ſent our young Dun⯑can Campbell, his Nephew, handſomely ac⯑couter'd, and with a handſome Summ of Money in his Pocket, by Sea, with Captain Meek of Kircaldie, to London, with Letters of Recommendation to the Earl's Favour, and juſt a few Days before young Duncan arrived in London, the Earl was ſet out on his Journey to his Seat in Scotland.

I had now left him for near Three Years, not having ſeen him, ſince about a Year after his Mother's Death; and then coming to London, I had by mere accident an Appoint⯑ment to meet ſome Scotch Gentlemen at the Buffalo at Charing-croſs. There happen'd at that Time to be a great Concourſe of Scotch Nobility there at an Entertainment, and one of the Ladies and Gentlemen paſſing by and ſeeing one of my Friends, deſir'd him to come in, and told him both he and his Compani⯑ons ſhould be very welcome to partake of the Diverſion. The Lady told him they had got a lovely Youth, a Scotch Miracle among them, that would give us exquiſite Delight, and write down to us all the Occurrences of our future Lives, and tell us our Names upon our firſt Appearance. The Moment I heard of it, Duncan Campbell came into my Head; but as it is a thing not rare to be met with in Scotland, for Second ſighted Perſons to tell ſuch things, and as the Earl of Angyle was [128] in the North, I thought little Duncan had been under his Protection and with him, and did not dream of meeting with him there, and accordingly told my Friend, before I went in, that I believed I knew a Lad in Scotland would exceed this in Fore-ſight, let him be as dexterous in his Art as he would.

As ſoon as I enter'd the Room, I was ſur⯑priz'd to find myſelf encompaſs'd and ſur⯑rounded by a Circle of the moſt beautiful Fe⯑males that ever my Eyes beheld. In the Centre of this Angelick Tribe was ſeated a heavenly Youth, with the moſt winning comelineſs of Aſpect, that ever pleaſed the Sight of any Be⯑holder of either Sex; his Face was divinely Fair, and ting'd only with ſuch a ſprightly Bluſh, as a Painter would uſe to Colour the Picture of Health with, and the Complexion was varniſh'd over by a blooming, like that of flouriſhing Fruit, which had not yet felt the firſt Nippings of an unkind and an uncivil Air; with this Beauty was join'd ſuch a ſmiling draught of all the Features, as is the reſult of Pleaſantry and good Humour. His Eyes were large, full of Luſtre, Majeſtick, well ſet, and the Soul ſhone ſo in them, as told the Spectators plainly, how great was the in⯑ward Vivacity of his Genius: The Hair of his Head was thick and reclin'd far below his Shoulders; it was of a fine Silver Colour, and hung down in Ringlets like the curling Tendrils of a copious Vine. He was by the [129] Women entertain'd, according to the Claim, which ſo many Perfections joining in a Youth juſt ripening into Manhood, might lay to the benevolent Diſpoſitions of the tender Sex. One was holding the Baſon of Water, ano⯑ther waſhing a Hand, a Third with a Towel drying his Face, which another Fair had gree⯑dily ſnatch'd the Pleaſure of waſhing before, while a Forth was diſpoſing into order his Silver Hairs with an Ivory Comb, in an Hand as White, and which a Monarch might have been proud to have had ſo employ'd in adju⯑ſting the Crown upon his Head; a Fifth was ſetting into Order his Crevat; a Sixth ſtole a Kiſs, and bluſh'd at the innocent Pleaſure, and miſtook her own Thoughts as if ſhe kiſs'd the Angel and not the Man; and they all ra⯑ther ſeem'd to adore than to love him, as if they had taken him not for a Perſon that en⯑joy'd the frequent Gift of the Second Sight, but as if he had been ſome little Prophet pe⯑culiarly inſpired, and while they all thus ad⯑mired and wonder'd they all conſulted him as an Oracle. The ſurprize of ſeeing a young Man ſo happy amidſt the general concurring Favours of the Fair, made me be for a while loſt in a kind of delightful Amazement, and the conſideration of what Bliſs he was poſ⯑ſeſs'd, made me ſcarce believe my own Eyes, when they told me it was Duncan Campbell, who I had left an unhappy Orphan at Edin⯑burgh. But ſo it was, though he was much [130] altered in Stature being now ſhot up pretty faſt in his Growth ſince I had ſeen him, and having gain'd a kind of a fix'd Comportment, ſuch as we may daily obſerve in thoſe, who are taking leave of their Minority, and ſtep⯑ping into a Stage of maturer Life.

The firſt remarkable thing I knew him do in London, being in this ſplendid Company, where there were ſo many undoubted Wit⯑neſſes of Quality too, that had ocular Proof of his Predictions at that publick Tavern: I chuſe to Record it here in the firſt Place, according to its due Order. It was in the Year 1698.

Among this Angelical Claſs of Beauties, were Dr. W [...]lw [...]d's Lady and Daughter. Upon Earth there was not ſure a more beau⯑tiful Creature than the Daughter was; ſhe was the leading Light of all the ſparkling Tribe; and Otway's Character ſuits her ex⯑actly; for ſhe was among Ten Thouſand emi⯑nently Fair. One would imagin proſperous and lucky Fortune was written upon her Face, and that nothing unhappy could be read in ſo fair a Book; and it was therefore the unani⯑mous Conſent of all, that, by way of good Omen to the reſt, his Predictions ſhould be⯑gin to be open'd luckily that Day, and that therefore he ſhould firſt of all be conſulted a⯑bout her.

Accordingly the Mother to be ſatisfied of his Talent, before ſhe proceeded to any o⯑ther [131] Queſtions, ask'd him in writing if he knew the young Lady, her Name, and who ſhe was. After a little ruminating and pon⯑dering upon the matter, and taking an exact View of the Beauty, he wrote down her Name, told Mrs. W [...]lw [...]d ſhe was her Daugh⯑ter, and that her Father was a Doctor. Con⯑vinced by his ſo readily telling the Name and Quality of Perſons he had never ſeen in his Life-time, that Fame had not given a falſe Character of his Capacity, ſhe proceeded in her Queſtions as to her future Fortune. He gaz'd a freſh at her very eagerly for ſome time, and his Countenance during that time of viewing her ſeem'd to be rufled with a⯑bundance of Diſturbance and Perplexity. We all imagin'd that the Youth was a little touch'd at the Heart himſelf with what he ſaw, and that inſtead of telling hers, he had met in her bright Eyes with his own Deſtiny, the Deſtiny of being for ever made a Slave and a Captive, to ſo many powerful and al⯑moſt irreſiſtable Charms.

At length, after having a long Debate within himſelf, which we thought proceed⯑ed from the ſtruglings of Love and Paſſion, he fetching a great Sigh, which ſtill con⯑vinced us more, took the Pen and wrote to Mrs. W [...]lw [...]d, that he beg'd to be excus'd, and that his Pen might remain as Dumb and Silent as his Tongue, on that Affair. By this Anſwer we concluded one and all, [132] that our former Conjectures were true, and we join'd in preſſing him the more earneſtly to deliver his real and ſincere Opinion con⯑cerning the Accidents upon which the future Fortunes of her Life were to turn and de⯑pend. He ſhew'd many mighty Reluctances in the doing it; and I have often ſince con⯑ſidered him in the ſame Anguiſh as the late great Dr. Ratcliff, who was endeavouring by Study to ſave a certain fair One, whom he lov'd with a vehemence of Temper, and who was (as his Reaſon told him) got far away beyond the reach of the Art of Phyſick to recover. At laſt he wrote in plain Terms, that his backwardneſs and unwillingneſs to tell it, aroſe from his wiſhes that her For⯑tune would be better than his certain Fore⯑knowledge of it told him it would be, and beg'd that we would reſt ſatisfied with that general Anſwer, ſince it was in ſo particular a Caſe, where he himſelf was a well-wiſher, in vain, to the Lady about whom he was conſulted. The young Lady herſelf thinking, that, if ſhe knew any Diſaſters, that were to befal her, ſhe might by knowing the nature of them beforehand, and the time when they were likely to happen, be able by timely Prudence and Forecaſt to avert thoſe Evils; with many beſeechings, urg'd him to reveal the fatal Secret. After many ſtruggles to a⯑void it, and as many Inſtances made to him, both by Mother and Daughter, for the diſ⯑covery [133] of his Preſcience in that Point, he comply'd with very great difficulty, and blot⯑ting the Paper with Tears that trickled faſt from his Eyes, he gave her the lamentable Scroll, containing the Words that follow, viz. I wiſh it had not fallen to my Lot to tell this Lady, whom every Body, that but once looks at her, muſt admire, though they muſt not have leave to love, that ſhe is not much longer to be poſſeſſor of that lovely Face, which gains her ſuch a number of Adorers. The ſmall Pox will too ſoon turn a Raviſher, and rifle all thoſe Sweets and Charms that might be able to vanquiſh a King, and to ſubdue a Conqueror of mighty Battles. Her Reign is doom'd alaſs to be as ſhort as it is now Great and Univerſal: I believe ſhe has interval Beauties of the Mind, not the leaſt inferior to thoſe external Excellencies of the Body, and ſhe might perhaps by the power of her Mind alone, be abſolute Queen of the Affections of Men, if the ſmall Pox threaten'd not too ſurely to be her further Enemy, and, not contented to deſtroy the Face, was not perverſely bent to deſtroy the whole Woman. But I want Words to ex⯑preſs my Sorrow.—I would not tell it, if you did not extort the baneful Secret from my Boſom.—This fair Creature, whoſe Beauty would make one wiſh her Immortal, will by the cruel means of the ſmall Pox, give us too ſudden a Proof of her Mortality.—But nei⯑ther [134] the Mother nor herſelf ought too much too repine at this, ſeeing it appears to be the Decree of Providence, which is always to be interpreted, as meant for our Good, and ſee⯑ing it may be the means of tranſlating her the ſooner only to her kindered Angels, whoſe Beauty ſhe ſo much reſembles here on Earth, and to be among the loweſt Claſs, of whom is better than being the greateſt Beauty of the World here below, and wearing an Imperial Crown.—While I comfort you, I can't help the force of Nature, which makes me grieve myſelf, and I only give you, becauſe you com⯑pel me to it, ſo particular and ſo exact an Anſwer, to ſo particular and ſo exacting a Queſtion.

The Mother, who took the Paper, was prudent enough to conceal from the Daugh⯑ter, what he ſaid, but Nature would force its way, and bubled from her Eyes; and the Daughter perceiving that, preſs'd hard to ſee it, and wept at the conſideration that hard Fate (though ſhe knew not particularly what way) was to befal her. Never ſurely was any thing ſo beautiful in Tears, and I obtain'd of the Mother to ſee the Writing.—At laſt, in general Terms, to free her from a ſuſpenſe of Mind, it was told her that ſome Trouble ſhould happen to her that would diminiſh her Beauty. She had Courage enough to hear that Misfortune with diſdain, and crying, if that be all, I am arm'd, I dont place much [135] Pride in that, which I know Age muſt ſhortly after deſtroy, if Trouble did not do it be⯑fore; and ſhe dry'd up her Tears, and (if what Mr. Bruyere ſays be true, viz. that the laſt thing a celebrated Woman thinks of when ſhe dies, is the loſs of her Beauty) ſhe ſhew'd an admirable Pattern of female Philoſophy, in bearing ſuch a cruel Prediction with ſuch unſpeakable Magnanimity, as exceeded even the Patience of ſtern Stoiſm, conſidering ſhe was a Woman, to whom Beauty is more dear than Life.

If any Evil, that is impending over Peo⯑ples Heads, could be evaded by Fore-know⯑ledge, or eluded by Art, ſhe had the faireſt opportunity of having this Prediction annul⯑led (which would have been more to the ſa⯑tisfaction of the Predictor than knowing it verified) than ever any Woman had. Her Mother was ſpecifically told, that the fatal Di⯑ſtemper ſhould be the ſmall Pox; her Father was, and is ſtill, a very Eminent Phyſician; and Diſtempers of that kind, eſpecially, are much more eaſily prevented, by Care, than cur'd by Art, and by Art more eaſily ſet a⯑ſide, when there is a timely warning given to a Phyſician to prepare the Body againſt the danger of the Poiſon, than when the Di⯑ſtemper has once catch'd hold of a Body at unawares, when it is unpurg'd of any groſs Humours that may accompany it. But nei⯑ther the Fore-knowledge and Caution of the [136] Mother, nor the Skill and Wiſdom of the great Phyſician her Father, were ſufficient to ward off the approaching Harm, that was written in the Books of Fate. Not many Suns had finiſhed their yearly Courſes, be⯑fore ſhe was forc'd to ſubmit to the inevi⯑table Stroak of Death, after the infectious and malicious Malady had firſt ravag'd her Beauty, rioted in all her Sweets, and made an odious deform'd Spectacle of the Charmer of Mankind. The Death of the Daughter work'd hard upon the Mother's Bowels, and dragg'd her ſpeedily after her, with a broken Heart to the Grave.

This Lady, whoſe Fortune ſo great and ſo diſtinguiſh'd an Aſſembly had choſen to hear as a happy Fore-runner and lucky Omen of all their own, which were to be ask'd after⯑wards in their turns, proving ſo contrary to their Expectations already unfortunate in the Prediction, and having been in Tears about the matter diſhearten'd all the reſt of the Beauties from conſulting him further that Day. The Perſon, who kept the Tavern, by Name Mrs. Irwin, alledg'd that as ſome People were very fortunate and others un⯑fortunate upon the ſame Day; ſo one Lady might be before told a miſhap one Mi⯑nute, and another Lady all the Proſperity in Nature the very next Minute following, and therefore that what the unfortunate Lady had heard was not to be taken as Ominous, or [137] as what could Malignantly influence the Day, neither ought it to be the leaſt hinderance to any who had the curioſity of being let into the Secrets of Time before-hand. However, whether the Ladies were convinc'd or no; if ſhe prevail'd over their Belief in that Point, ſhe could not prevail over their Humour, which (though they might not believe the former Prediction ominous to themſelves) was naturally aw'd for fear of the like, per⯑adventure, for a Time, and ſo it was agreed, nemine Contradicente, as a witty Lady wrote it down, that no more Petitions ſhould for that Day be preſented by any of that Com⯑pany to his Dumb, yet oracular, Majeſty. Mrs. Irwin, however, would have her way; ſaid ſhe did not preſume to ſuch Honour as to call herſelf of that Company, and that therefore ſhe might conſult him without breaking through the Votes of the Aſſembly. Many endeavour'd to diſſwade her, but as ſhe was paſſionately fond of knowing future E⯑vents; and had a mighty itch to be very in⯑quiſitive with the Oracle, about what might happen, not only to herſelf, but her Poſteri⯑ty; it was agreed that he ſhould have the liberty of ſatisfying her Curioſity, ſince ſhe preſum'd her Fortune was ſure to be ſo Good, and was ſo forward and eager for the know⯑ledge of it. But (alaſs!) ſuch is too often the fantaſtical Impulſe of Nature unluckily depraved, that it carries often into wiſhes of [138] knowing, what when known we would be glad to unknow again, and then our Memory will not let us be untaught.

Mrs. Irwin was at that time in a pretty commodious way of Buſineſs, every thing in Plenty round about her, and liv'd more like a Perſon of Diſtinction, that kept ſuch a Cel⯑lar of Wine, open Houſe, and a free Table, than like one who kept a Tavern. She brought in her Three pretty Children, that were then almoſt Babies, the youngeſt having not long been out of the Nurſes Arms, or truſted to the uſe of its own Legs. Theſe Children ſhe lov'd as a Mother ſhould love Children; they were the delight of her Eyes all Day, and the Dream of her Imagination all Night. All the Paſſions of her Soul were confin'd to them; ſhe was never pleas'd but when they were ſo, and always angry if they were croſs'd; her whole Pride was centered in them, and they were cloath'd and went attended more like the Infants of a Princeſs, than of a Vintner's Relict. The Fortune of theſe was what ſhe had near at Heart, and of which ſhe was ſo eager of being immediately apprized. Her Impatience was proportiona⯑ble to the love ſhe had for them, and which made her wiſh to fore-know all the Happineſs that was like to attend them. She ſate chear⯑fully down, preſented one to him, and ſmil⯑ing wrote the Queſtion in general Terms, viz. is this Boy to be Happy or Unhappy. [139] A melancholy Look once more ſpread itſelf all over the Face of the Predictor, when he read the too inquiſitive Words, and he ſeem'd mightily to regret being ask'd a Queſtion, to which he was by his Talent of fore-ſeeing, compell'd to give ſo unwelcome an Anſwer. The Colour of the poor Woman fluſh'd and vaniſh'd alternately, and very quick, and ſhe look'd not quite like the Picture of Deſpair, but a diſconſolate Woman, with little Hopes on one Hand, and great Doubts and diſmal Fears on the other. She profeſs'd ſhe read great Evil in the Troubles of his Face, thank'd him for his good nature, told him, that they all knew, that though he could fore-tell, he could not alter the acts and decretals of Fate, and therefore deſir'd him to tell her the worſt; for that the Misfortunes, were they never ſo great, would be leſs dreadful to her, than re⯑maining in the State of Fear and Suſpenſion. He at laſt wrote down to her that great and unexpected and even unavoidable Accidents would involve the whole Family in new Ca⯑lamities, that the Son ſhe ask'd him about would have the bittereſt task of Hardſhip to go through withal, while he lived, and that to finiſh all more unhappily, he would be baſely and maliciouſly brought to an untimely End, by ſome mortal Enemy or other, but that ſhe ſhould not trouble herſelf ſo much on that head, ſhe would never ſee it, for it would happen ſome Years after ſhe was de⯑parted [140] from the World. This melancholy Account clos'd up the Book of Predictions for that Day, and put a ſad ſtop to all the pro⯑jected Mirth and Curioſity. Now I muſt tell the Reader how and when the event anſwer'd the Prediction. And in a few Words it was thus; poor Mrs. Irwin, by ſtrange Accidents decay'd in the World, and dying Poor, her Sons were forc'd to be put out Apprentices to ſmall Trades, and the Son, whom the above⯑mentioned Prediction concern'd, was, for ſtealing one Cheeſe from a Man in the Hay⯑market, ſeverely proſecuted at the Old Bailey, and on Wedneſday the Twenty Third of De⯑cember, 1713. hang'd at Tyburn, with ſeveral other Criminals.

The Two foregoing Paſſages are of ſo tra⯑gical a Nature, that it is time I ſhould re⯑lieve the Minds of my Readers, with ſome Hiſtories of Ladies, who conſulted him with more Succeſs and Advantage, to whom his Predictions were very entertaining, when they ſo came to paſs in their Favour, the Relation whereof, will conſequently be agreeable to all Readers, who have within them a mixture of happy Curioſity and good Nature.

Two Ladies, who were the moſt remarka⯑ble Beauties in London, and the moſt courted, turn'd at the ſame time their Thoughts to Matrimony, and being ſatiated, I may ſay, wearied with the Pleaſure, of having conti⯑nually after them a great number and variety [141] of Adorers, reſolv'd each, about the ſame time, to make a choice of their ſeveral Men, to whom, they thought, they could give moſt Happineſs, and from whom they might re⯑ceive moſt. Their Names (for they are both Perſons of Diſtinction) ſhall be Chriſtallina and Urbana. Chriſtallina was a Virgin, and Urbana a young Widow. Chriſtallina engroſs'd the Eyes, the Hearts, and the Sighs, of the whole Court, and wherever ſhe appeared, put any Court Lady out of her Place, that had one before in the Heart of any Youth; and was the celebrated Toaſt among the Beau Monde. Urbana's Beauty made as terrible Havock in the City: All the Citizens Daugh⯑ters, that had many Admirers, and were in fair Hopes of having Husbands, when they pleas'd themſelves; aſſoon as Urbana had loſt her old Husband, found that they every Day loſt their Lovers, and 'twas a general fear a⯑mong the prettieſt Maids, that they ſhould remain Maids ſtill, as long as Urbana remain'd a Widow. She was the Monopolizer of City Affection, and made many Girls, that had large ſtocks of Suiters, Bankrupts in the Trade of Courtſhip, and broke ſome of their Hearts, when her Charms broke off their Amours.—Well but the Day was near at Hand, when both the Belles of the Court and the City Damſels were to be freed from the ravages, which theſe Two Tyrants, triumphant in Beauty, and inſolent in Charms, made among [142] the Harveſt of Love. Each had ſeen her proper Man, to whom the Enjoyment of her Perſon was to be dedicated for Life. But it being an Affair of ſo laſting Importance, each had a mind to be let into the knowledge of the conſequences of ſuch a Choice, as far as poſſible, before they ſtep'd into the irrevo⯑cable State of Matrimony. Both of them happen'd to take it into their Heads, that the beſt way to be entirely ſatisfied in their Cu⯑rioſity, was to have recourſe to the great Pre⯑dictor of future Occurrences, Mr. Duncan Campbell, whoſe Fame was at that Time ſpread pretty largely about the Town. Chriſtallina and Urbana, were not acquainted with each other, only by the report which Fame had made of Beauty. They came to Mr. Camp⯑bell's on the ſame Day, and both with the ſame reſolution of keeping themſelves con⯑ceal'd and under Masks, that none of the Company of Conſulters, who happen'd to be there, might know who they were. It hap⯑pened that on that very Day, juſt when they came, Mr. Campbell's Rooms were more than ordinarily crowded, with curious Clients of the fair Sex, ſo that he was oblig'd to deſire theſe Two Ladies, who expreſs'd ſo much precaution againſt, and fear of having their Perſons diſcover'd, to be contented with only one Room between them, and with much ado, they comply'd with the requeſt, and condeſcended to ſit together Incog. Diſtant [143] Compliments of Geſture paſs'd between them, (the dreſs and comportment of each making them appear to be Perſons of Figure and Breed⯑ing) and after Three or Four modiſh Curte⯑ſies down they ſat, without ſo much as once opening their Lips, or intending ſo to do. The Silence between them was very formal and profound for near half an Hour, and nothing was to be heard but the ſnapping of Fans, which they both did very tuneably and with great Harmony, and plaid, as it were in Con⯑ſort.

At laſt one of the civil well bred Mutes, happening to Sneeze, the other very gracefully bow'd, and before ſhe was well aware, out popp'd the Words—Bleſs you Madam, the fair Sneezer return'd the Bow, with an—I thank you Madam. They found they did not know one another's Voices; and they began to talk very merrily together, with pretty great confidence, and they taking a mutual liking from Converſation, ſo much familiarity grew thereupon inſtantly between them, that they began not only to unmask, but to unboſom themſelves to one another, and confeſs alternately all their Secrets. Chri⯑ſtallina own'd who ſhe was, and told Urbana the Beau and Courtier that had her Heart. Urbana as franckly declared that ſhe was a Widow, that ſhe would not become the La⯑dies Rival, that ſhe had pitch'd upon a Se⯑cond Husband, an Alderman of the City. [144] Juſt by that time they had had their chat out, and wiſh'd one another the pleaſure of a ſucceſsful Prediction, it came to Chriſtallina's turn to viſit the Dumb Gentleman, and re⯑ceive from his Pen oracular Anſwers, to all the Queſtions ſhe had to propoſe. Well, he accordingly ſatisfied her in every Point ſhe ask'd him about; but while ſhe was about this; one of Mr. Campbell's Family going with Urbana to divert her a little: The Widow railed at the Virgin as a Fool, to immagin that ſhe ſhould ever make a Conqueſt of the brighteſt Spark about the Court, and then let ſhe ſome random bolts of Malice to wound her Reputation for Chaſtity: Now it became the Widow's turn to go and conſult: And the ſame Perſon of Mr. Campbell's Family, in the mean time entertain'd Chriſtallina. The Maid was not behind hand with the Widow; ſhe rail'd againſt the Widow, repreſented her as ſometimes a Coquette, ſometimes a Lady of Pleaſure, ſometimes a Jilt, and lifted up her Hands in Wonder and Amazement, that Urbana ſhould immagin ſo rich a Man, as an Alderman, ſuch a one, ſhould fall to her Lot. Thus Urbana ſwore and proteſted that Chri⯑ſtallina could never arrive at the Honour of being the Wife to the courtly Secretarius, let Mr. Campbell flatter her as he would; and Chriſtallina vow'd, that Campbell muſt be a downright Wizard, if he foretold, that ſuch a one as Urbana would get Alderman Stiff⯑rump [145] for a Husband, provided a Thing ſo im⯑probable ſhould come to paſs.

However, it ſeems, Duncan had told them their own Names and the Names of their Suiters, and told them further, how ſoon they were both to be married, and that too directly to their Heart's content, as they ſaid rejoicing⯑ly to themſelves, and made their mutual Gra⯑tulations.

They went away each ſatisfied, that ſhe ſhould have her own Lover, but Chriſtallina laugh'd at Mr. Campbell for aſſigning the Al⯑derman to Urbana; and Urbana laugh'd at him for promiſing the Courtier to the Arms of Chriſtallina.

This is a pretty good Figure of the Tem⯑pers of Two reigning Toaſts, with regard to one another.

Firſt, Their Curioſity made them, from reſolving to be concealed, diſcover one ano⯑ther wilfully, from utter Strangers grow as familiar as old Friends in a Moment, ſwear one another to Secrecy, and exchange the Sentiments of their Hearts together, and from being Friends become envious of each o⯑ther's enjoying a Similitude of Happineſs; the Compliments made on either ſide Face to Face, were, upon the turning of the Back, turn'd into Reflections, Detraction, and Ridi⯑cule; each was a Self-lover and Admirer of her own Beauty and Merit, and a Deſpiſer of the other's.

[146] However, Duncan Campbell, proved at laſt to be in the right; Urbana was wrong in her opinion of Chriſtallina's want of power over Secretarius, and Chriſtallina was as much out in her opinion, that Urbana would miſs in her aim of obtaining Stiffrump: For they both prov'd in the right of what they thought, with regard to their own dear ſingle Perſons, and were made happy according to their Ex⯑pectations, juſt at the time foretold by Mr. Campbell.

Chriſtallina's ill Wiſhes did not hinder Ur⯑bana from being Miſtreſs of Alderman Stiff⯑rump's Perſon and Stock, nor did Urbana's hinder Chriſtallina from ſhewing herſelf a ſhining Bride at the Ring in Secretarius's gil⯑ded Chariot, drawn by Six Prancers of the proud Belgian Kind, with her half dozen of Liveries, with Favours in their Hats, wait⯑ing her return at the Gate of Hyde-park.

Both lov'd and both envy'd, but both al⯑low'd of Mr. Campbell's Fore-knowledge.

Having told you Two very ſorrowful Paſ⯑ſages, and one tolerably ſucceſsful and enter⯑taining; I ſhall now relate to you another of my own knowledge, that is mix'd up with the Grievous and the Pleaſant, and checquer'd, as it were, with the Shade and the Sun-ſhine of Fortune.

Though there are Viciſſitudes in every Stage or Life under the Sun; and not one ever ran continually on with the ſame ſeries [147] of Proſperity; yet thoſe Conditions, which are the moſt liable to the ſignal Alterations of Fortune, are the Conditions of Merchants; for profeſt Gameſters I reckon in a manner as Men of no condition of Life at all; but what comes under the Statute of Vagabonds.

It was indeed, as the Reader would gueſs, a worthy and a wealthy Merchant, who was to run through theſe different Circumſtances of Being. He came and viſited our Mr. Camp⯑bell, in the Year, 1707. he found him amidſt a Croud of Conſulters; and being very ea⯑ger and ſolicitous to know his own Fortune, juſt at that critical juncture of time, he begg'd of him (if poſſible) to adjourn his other Clients to the Day following, and ſacrifice that one wholly to his uſe; which as it was probably more important than all the others together, ſo he wrote down that he would render the time ſpent about it more advantagious to Mr. Campbell; and, by way of previous En⯑couragement, threw him down Ten Guineas as a retaining Fee.

Mr. Campbell, who held Money in very lit⯑tle eſteem, and valued it ſo much too little, that he has often had my Reprehenſions on that head, pauſed a little, and after looking earneſtly in the Gentleman's Face, and read⯑ing there, as I ſuppoſe, in that little ſpace of time in general, according to the power of the Second Sight, that what concern'd him was highly momentous, wrote him this An⯑ſwer, [148] that he would comply with his requeſts, adjourn his other Clients to the Day follow⯑ing, and ſet apart all the remnant of that, till Night, for inſpecting the future Occur⯑rences, of which he had a mind to be made a Maſter.

There is certainly a very keen Appetite in Curioſity: It cannot ſtay for ſatisfaction; it is preſſing for its neceſſary repaſt, and is with⯑out all patience: Hunger and Thirſt are not Appetites more vehement and more hard and difficult to be repreſs'd, than that of Curio⯑ſity: Nothing but the preſent Now is able to allay it. A more expreſſive Picture of this I never beheld, than in the Faces of ſome, and the murmurs and complaints of others, in that little inquiſitive Company, when the unwelcome Note was given about ſignifying an Adjournment, for only Twenty Four Hours.

The Colour of a young Woman there, came and went a Hundred times (if poſſible) in the ſpace of Two Minutes; ſhe bluſh'd like a red Roſe this Moment, and in the ſwitch of an Eye-laſh ſhe was all over as pale as a white one: The Suiter, whoſe Name, her Heart had gone pit a pat for the ſpace of an Hour, to be inform'd of from the Pen of a Seer, was now deferr'd a whole Day longer; ſhe was once or twice within an ace of ſwooning a⯑way; but he comforted her in particular, by telling her (though he ſaid it only by way of [149] jeſt) that the Day following would be a more lucky Day to conſult about Husbands, than the preſent, that ſhe came on. The Anſwer was a kind of Cordial to her hopes, and brought her a little better to herſelf.

Two others, (I remember) Siſters and old Maids, that it ſeems were Miſers, Women ordinarily dreſt, and in blue Aprons, and yet by relation worth no leſs than Two Thouſand Pounds each, were in a peck of Troubles a⯑bout his going and leaving them unſatisfied. They came upon an enquiry after Goods that were ſtolen, and they complained that by next Morning at that time, the Thief might be got far enough off, and creep into ſo remote a corner, that he would put it beyond the power of the Devil, and the art of Conjura⯑tion to find him out, and bring him back a⯑gain. The diſturbance and anxiety that was to be ſeen in their Conntenances, was juſt like that, which is to be beheld in the Face of a great loſing Gameſter, when his all, his laſt great Stake, lies upon the Table, and is juſt ſweeping off by another winning Hand into his own Hat.

The next was a Widow, who boune'd, be⯑cauſe, as ſhe pretended, he would not tell her what was beſt to do with her Sons, and what Profeſſion it would be moſt happy for them to be put to; but in reality all the Cauſe of the Widow's fuming and fretting, was, not that ſhe wanted to provide for her [150] Sons, but for herſelf; ſhe wanted a Second Husband, and was not half ſo ſolicitous about being put in a way of educating thoſe Child⯑ren ſhe had already, as of knowing when ſhe ſhould be in a likelyhood of getting more. This was certainly in her Thoughts, or elſe ſhe would never have flounc'd about in her Weed, from one end of the Room to the o⯑ther, and all the while of her Paſſion ſmile by Fits upon the Merchant, and leer upon a young pretty Iriſh Fellow that was there. The young Iriſh-man made uſe of a little Eye⯑language: She grew appeas'd, went away in quite a good humour, skutled too airily down Stairs, for a Woman in her cloaths, and the reaſon was certainly that ſhe knew the mat⯑ter before, which we took notice of preſently after: The Iriſh-man went precipitately after her down Stairs without taking his leave.

But neither were the Two Miſers for their Gold, the Virgin for a firſt Husband, nor the Widow for a Second, half ſo eager, as ano⯑ther married Woman there, was for the death of her Spouſe. She had put the Queſtion in ſo expecting a manner for a lucky Anſwer, and with ſo much keen deſire appearing plain⯑ly in her looks; that no big belly'd Woman was ever more eager for devouring Fruit; no young haſty Bridegroom, juſt married to a Beauty, more impatient for Night and En⯑joyment, than ſhe was to know, what ſhe thought a more happy Moment, the Moment [151] of her Husband's laſt agonizing Gaſp. As her Expectation was the greateſt, ſo was her Diſ⯑appointment too, and conſequently her Diſ⯑order upon his going and leaving her unre⯑ſolv'd. She was frantick, raging and impla⯑cable; ſhe was in ſuch a Fury at the delay of putting off her Anſwer to the Day following, that in her fury, ſhe acted as if ſhe would have given herſelf an Anſwer, which of the Two ſhould die firſt, by choaking herſelf upon the ſpot, with the Indignation that ſwell'd in her Stomach, and roſe into her Throat on that oc⯑caſion. It may look like a Romance to ſay it; but indeed they were forc'd to cut her Lace, and then ſhe threw out of the Room with great Paſſion.—But yet had ſo much of the enraged Wife left, (beyond the enrag'd Wo⯑man) as to return inſtantly up Stairs, and ſignify very calmly, ſhe would be certain to be there next Day, and beſeech'd earneſtly that ſhe might not meet with a Second Diſ⯑appointment.

All this hurry and buſtle created a ſtay, a little too tedious for the Merchant, who be⯑gan to be impatient himſelf, eſpecially when Word was brought up, that a freſh Company was come in: But Mr. Campbell was deny'd to them; and to put a ſtop to any more In⯑terruptions, the Merchant and the dumb Gentleman agreed to ſlip into a Coach, drive to a Tavern in the City, and ſettle matters of Futurity over a Bottle of French Claret.

[152] The firſt Thing done at the Tavern, was Mr. Campbell's ſaluting him upon a piece of Paper by his Name, and drinking his Health. The next Paper held a Diſcourſe of condo⯑leance for a Diſaſter that was paſt long ſince, namely a great and conſiderable loſs that hap⯑pen'd to his Family, in the dreadful Confla⯑gration of the City of London. In the Third little Dialogue which they had together, he told the Merchant that Loſſes and Advan⯑tages were general Topicks, which a Perſon unskill'd in that Art might venture to aſſign to any Man of his Profeſſion; it being next to impoſſible that Perſons who traffick ſhould not ſometimes gain, and ſometimes loſe.—But ſaid Mr. Duncan Campbell I will sketch out particularly, and ſpecify to you ſome fu⯑ture Misfortunes, with which you will una⯑voidably meet: 'Tis in your Stars, it is in Deſtiny that you ſhould have ſome Trials, and therefore when you are forewarn'd take a prudent care to before-arm'd with Patience, and by longanimity, and meekly, and reſig⯑nedly, enduring your Lot, render it more eaſy, ſince Impatience can't avert it, and will only render it more burthenſome and heavy. He gave theſe Words to the Merchant; who preſs'd for his Opinion that Moment. By your leave (reſuming the Pen ſaid the Dumb Gentleman in writing) we will have this Bottle out firſt and tap a freſh one, that you may be warm'd with Courage enough to re⯑ceive [153] the firſt Speculative onſett of ill fortune, that I ſhall predict to you, with a good grace, and that may perhaps enable you to meet it, when it comes to reduce it ſelf into action, with a manful Purpoſe and all becoming Re⯑ſolution. The Merchant agreed to the Pro⯑poſal, and put on an Air of the careleſs and in⯑different as well as he could, to ſignify that he had no need to raiſe up an artificial Courage from the auxiliary forces of the Grape. But Nature, when hard preſs'd, will break thro' all diſguiſes, and not only notwithſtanding the Air of Pleaſantry he gave himſelf, which ap⯑pear'd forced and conſtrain'd, but in ſpite of Two or Three ſparkling and enlivening Bum⯑pers, a Cloud of Care would ever and anon gather and ſhoot heavily croſs his Brow, tho' he labour'd all he could to diſpel it as quick⯑ly, and to keep fair Weather in his Counte⯑nance. Well, they had crack'd the firſt Bot⯑tle and the Second ſucceeded upon the Table, and they call'd to blow a Pipe together. This Pipe Mr. Campbell found had a very ill Effect: It is certainly a penſive kind of Inſtrument; and fills a Mind any thing ſo diſpoſed with diſturb⯑ing thoughts, black fumes, and melancholy va⯑pours, as certainly as it doth the Mouth with ſmoke. It plainly took away even the little Sparks of Vivacity, which the Wine had given before; ſo he wrote for a truce of fi⯑ring thoſe ſort of noxious Guns any longer, and they laid down their Arms by conſent, and [154] drank off the Second Bottle. A Third im⯑mediately ſupply'd its place, and at the firſt Glaſs the opening of the Bottle, Mr. Campbell began to open to him his future caſe, in the following Words. Sir, you have now ſome Ventures at Sea from ſuch and ſuch a Place to ſuch a value. Don't he diſcomforted at the News which you certainly will have within three Months, (but 'twill be falſe at laſt) that they are by three different Tempeſts made the Prey of the great Ocean, and enrich the Bottom of the Sea, the Palace of Neptune. A worſe Storm than all theſe attends you at home, a Wife who is and will be more the Tempeſt of the Houſe wherein ſhe lives. The high and lofty Winds of her Vanity will blow down the Pillars of your Houſe and Family; the High-tide of her Extravagance will roll on like a reſiſtleſs Torrent and leave you at low Water, and the Ebb of all your Fortunes. This is the Higheſt and the moſt cutting Diſaſter that is to befal you; your real Ship⯑wreck is not foreign but domeſtick; your boſom Friend is to be your greateſt Foe, and even your powerful Undoer for a time; mark what I ſay, and take Courage, it ſhall be but for a time, provided you take Courage; it will upon that condition be only a ſhort and wholeſome taſte of Adverſity given to you, that you may reliſh returning Proſperity with Virtue, and with a greater Return of thanks to him, that diſpenſes it at pleaſure to Man⯑kind. [155] Remember Courage and Reſignation is what I adviſe you to; uſe it (as becomes you) in your Adverſity, and believe that as I foretold that Adverſity, ſo I can foretel a Proſperity will again be the conſequence of thoſe Virtues; and the more you feel the one, ought not to caſt you down, but raiſe your hopes the more, that he who foretold you that ſo exactly, could likewiſe foretel you the other. The Merchant was by this put into a great ſuſpence of Mind, but ſomewhat ea⯑ſier, by the Second Prediction being annex'd ſo kindly to the firſt fatal one. They crown'd the Night with a flask of Burgundy, and then parting, each went to their reſpective Homes.

The Reader may perchance wonder how I, who make no mention of my being there, (as in Truth I was not at the Tavern) ſhould be able to relate this as of my own knowledge; but if he pleaſes to have patience to the end of the Story, he will have entire ſatisfaction in that Point.

About half a Year after, the Merchant came again, told him that his Prediction was too far verify'd, to his very dear coſt, and that he was now utterly undone, and beyond any viſible means of a future recovery, and doubt⯑ing leaſt the other fortunate Part of the Pre⯑diction was only told him by way of Encou⯑ragement, (for groundleſs Doubts and Fears always attend a Mind implung'd in Melan⯑choly) beſought him very earneſtly to tell [156] him candidly and ſincerely, if there was no real Proſpect of Good, and rid him at once of the Uneaſineſs of ſuch a Suſpenſion of Thought; but pray too, ſaid he, with all the vehemence of repeated Expoſtulation, ſatisfy me, if there are any further hopes on this ſide the Grave?

To this Duncan Campbell made a ſhort, but a very ſignificant reply in writing. May the Heaven's preſerve you from a threat'ning dan⯑ger of Life. Take care only of yourſelf, great and mighty care, and if you outlive Friday next, you will yet be great and more fortunate, than ever you was in all the height of your former moſt flouriſhing ſpace of Life. He colour'd inordinately when Dun⯑can Campbell ſaid Friday, and conjur'd him to tell him as particularly as he could what he meant by Friday. He told him he could not particularize any further, but that great Dan⯑ger threaten'd him that Day; and that with⯑out extraordinary Precaution, it would prove fatal to him, even to death. He ſhook his Head, and went away in a very ſorrowful Plight. Friday paſt, Saturday came, and on that very Saturday Morning came likewiſe the joyful Tidings that, what Ventures of his were given over for loſt, at Sea, were all come ſafe into the Harbour. He came the Moment he receiv'd thoſe diſpatches from his Agent, to Mr. Duncan Campbell's Apartment, embrac'd him tenderly, and ſaluted him with [157] much gladneſs of Heart, before a great Room full of Ladies, where I happen'd to be pre⯑ſent at that time; crying out in a loud Voice, before he knew what he ſaid, that Mr. Campbell had ſav'd his Life, that Friday was his Birth-day, and he had intended with a Piſtol to ſhoot himſelf that very Day. The Ladies thought him mad; and he, recover'd from his Exſtacy, ſaid no more, but ſate down, till Mr. Campbell diſmiſs'd all his Clients; and then we Three went to the Tavern together, where he told me the whole little Hiſtory or Narrative, juſt as is above related.

The Fame which Mr. Duncan Campbell got by the foregoing, and ſeveral other Predi⯑ctions of the like kind, was become very large and extenſive, and had ſpread itſelf into the remoteſt Corners of this Metropolis. The Squares rung with it, it was whiſper'd from one Houſe to another, through the more mag⯑nificent Streets, where Perſons of Quality and Diſtinction reſide, it catch'd every Houſe in the City, like the News of Stock from Ex⯑change-alley, it run noiſily through the Lanes and little Thorough-fares where the poor in⯑habit; it was the Chat of the Tea-table, and the Babble of the Streets, and the whole Town, from the top to the bottom, was full of it. Whenever any Reputation riſes to a degree like this, let it be for what Art or Accompliſhment or on what account ſoever it will, Malice, Envy and Detraction, are ſure [158] to be the immediate Purſuers of it with full Mouth, and to hunt it down, if poſſible, with full Cry. Even the great Noſtra-damus, tho' favour'd by Kings and Queens, (which always without any other reaſon creates Enemies) was not more purſued by Envy and Detra⯑ction for his Predictions in Paris and through⯑out France, than our Duncan Campbell was in London, and even throughout England. Various, different, and many were the Ob⯑jections rais'd to blot his Character and ex⯑tenuate his Fame, that, when one was con⯑futed, another might not be wanting to ſup⯑ply its place, and ſo to maintain a courſe and ſeries of back-biting, according to the known Maxim.—Throw dirt, and if it does not ſtick, throw dirt continually, and ſome will ſtick.

Neither is there any wonder; for a Man, that has got Applauders of all ſorts and con⯑ditions, muſt expect Condemners and Detra⯑ctors of all ſorts and conditions likewiſe. If a Lady of high Degree, for example, ſhould ſay ſmiling, (though really thinking abſolute⯑ly what ſhe ſays) for fear of being thought over-credulous:—Well, I vow, ſome things Mr. Campbell does are ſurprizing after all; they would be apt to incline one to a belief, that he is a wonder of a Man, for one would imagin the things he does impoſſible;—why then a Prude with an aſſumed ſupercilious Air, and a ſcornful Tihee, would in order to ſeem more wiſe than ſhe was, reply; Laud, [159] Madam, 'tis more a wonder to me that you can be impoſed upon ſo.—I vow to Gad, Madam, I would aſſoon conſult an Almanack⯑maker, and pin my Faith upon what he pricks down; or believe, like my Creed, in the croſs which I make upon the Hand of a Gypſie.—Lard, Madam, I aſſure your La'ſhip he knows no more than I do of you.—I aſſure you ſo, and therefore believe me.—He has it all by hear-ſay.—If the Lady that believ'd it, ſhould reply, that if he had notice of every Stranger by hear-ſay, he muſt be a greater Man than ſhe ſuſpected, and muſt keep more Spies in pay, than a Prime Miniſter. The Prude's Anſwer would be with a loud Laugh and gig⯑gling out theſe Words.—Lard, Madam, I aſſure you nothing can be more eaſy; and ſo take it for granted. Becauſe ſhe was inclin'd to ſay ſo, and had the act of Wiſdom on her ſide, forſooth, that ſhe appear'd hard of be⯑lief, (which ſome call hard to be put upon) and the other Lady credulous, (which ſome though believing upon good grounds are call'd) and ſo thought fooliſh; the Prude's Anſwer would be thought ſufficient and con⯑vincing.

Thus Malice and Folly, by dint of Noiſe and Impudence, and ſtrong though empty Aſſertions, often run down Modeſty and good Senſe. Among the common People it is the ſame, but only done in a different manner. For Example, an ordinary Perſon that had [160] conſulted, might ſay (as he walk'd along) There goes the dumb Gentleman, who writes down any Name of a Stranger at firſt Sight. Steps up a blunt Fellow, that takes Stub⯑borneſs for Senſe, and ſays—that is a con⯑founded Lye; he is a Cheat and an Impoſtor, and you are one of his Accomplices. He'll tell me my Name, I ſuppoſe, if you tell it him firſt. He is no more dumb than I am; he can ſpeak and hear as well as us, I have been with thoſe that ſay they have heard him; I wiſh I and Two or Three more had him in our Stable, and I warrant you with our Cart-whips we would lick ſome Words out of his Chops, as dumb as you call him.—I tell you 'tis all a Lye and all a Bite.—If the other deſires to be convinc'd for himſelf by his own Experience.—The rougher Rogue, who perhaps has ſtronger Sinews than t'other, anſwers, if you lye any further, I will knock you down, and ſo he is the vulgar Wit, and the Mouth of the Rabble-rout, and thus the Detraction ſpreads below with very good ſucceſs, as it does above in another kind.

As there are Two comical Adventures in his Life, which directly ſuit and correſpond with the foregoing Reflections, this ſeems the moſt proper Place to inſert them in. The firſt conſiſts of a kind of Mobb-way of Uſage he met with from a Fellow, who got to be an Officer in the Army, but by the following Behaviour will be found unworthy of the Name, and the Commiſſion.

[161] In the Year 1701, a Lady of good Quality came and addreſs'd herſelf to him much after the following manner. She told him ſhe had Choice of Lovers, but preferr'd one above the reſt; but deſir'd to know his Name, and if ſhe made him her Choice, what would be the ſubſequent Fate of ſuch a Matrimony. Mr. Duncan Campbell very readily gave her down in writing, this plain and honeſt Re⯑ply; that of all her Suiters, ſhe was moſt in⯑clin'd to a Captain, a diſtinguiſh'd Officer, and a great Beau, (naming his Name) and one that had a great many outward engaging Charms, ſufficient to blind the Eyes of any Lady that was not thoroughly acquainted with his Manner of living. He therefore aſ⯑ſured her, (and thought himſelf bound, be⯑ing conjured, ſo to do, having received his Fee, though there was Danger in ſuch plain and open Predictions,) that he was a Villain and a Rogue in his Heart, a profligate Game⯑ſter, and that if ſhe took him to her Bed, ſhe would only embrace her own Ruin. The Lady's Woman, who was preſent, being in Fee with the Captain, reſolving to give Intelli⯑gence, for fear the Officer her ſo good Friend ſhould be diſappointed in the Siege: ſlily ſhuf⯑fled the Papers into her Pocket, and made a Preſent of them to the military Spark. Fir'd with Indignation at the Contents, he vow'd Revenge; and in order to compaſs it, con⯑ſpires with his female Spy about the Means. [162] In fine, for fear of loſing the Lady though he quarrel'd with Duncan Campbell, a Method was to be found out how to ſecure her by the very Act of Revenge. At laſt it was re⯑ſolv'd to diſcover to her, that he had found out what ſhe had been told by Mr. Campbell, but the Way how he had been inform'd was to remain a Secret. He did do ſo and ended his Diſcovery with theſe Words: I deſire, Madam, that if I prove him an Im⯑poſtor, you would not believe a Word he ſays.—The Lady agreed to ſo fair a Propo⯑ſal.—Then the Captain ſwore that he him⯑ſelf would never eat a Piece of Bread more till he had made Mr. Campbell eat his Words; nay he inſiſted upon it, that he would bring him to his Tongue, and make him own by Word of Mouth, that what he had written before was falſe and calumnious. To which the Lady anſwer'd again, that, if he perform'd what he ſaid, ſhe would be convinced. This brave military Man, however, not relying upon his own ſingle Valour and Proweſs, to bring about ſo miraculous a thing as the mak⯑ing a Perſon, that was dumb, to ſpeak: He took with him for this End three luſty Aſſiſtants to combine with him in the Aſſaſſination. The Ambuſcade was ſettled to be at the Five Bells Tavern in Witch-ſtreet in the Strand. After the Ambuſh was ſettled with ſo much falſe Courage the Buſineſs of decoying Mr. Campbell into it, was not practicable any other way, [163] than by ſending out falſe Colours. The La⯑dy's Woman, who was by her own Intereſt tied faſt to the Intereſt of the Beau, was to play the trick of Dalila, and betray this deaf and dumb Sampſon (as he will appear to be a kind of one in the ſequel of the Story) into the Hands of theſe Philiſtines. She ſmooths her Face over with a complimenting Lye from her Miſtreſs to Mr. Campbell, and acted her Part of Deceit ſo well that he promis'd to follow her to the Five Bells with all haſte; and ſo ſhe skuttled back to prepare the Cap⯑tain, and to tell him how lucky ſhe was in Miſchief; and how ſhe drew him out by Smiles into Perdition. The ſhort of the Story is, when they got him in among them, they endeavour'd to aſſaſſinate him; but they miſs'd of their Aim; yet 'tis certain they leſt him in a very terrible and bloody Condition; and the Captain went away in as bad a Plight as the Perſon was left in, whom he aſſaulted ſo cowardly with Numbers, and to ſuch Diſad⯑vantage. I was ſent for to him upon this Diſaſter, and the Story was deliver'd to me thus, by one of the Drawers of the Tavern, when I inquir'd into it. They began to ban⯑ter him, and ſpeaking to him as if he heard, ask'd him if he knew his own Fortune; they told him it was to be beaten to Death. This was an odd way of addreſſing a deaf and dumb Man. They added they would make him ſpeak before they had done. The Boy [164] ſeeing he made no Reply, but only ſmiled; thought what paſs'd between them was a Jeſt, with an old Acquaintance, and withdrew a⯑bout his Buſineſs. The Door being faſten'd, however, before they began the honourable Attack they vouchſafed to write down their Intent, in the Words above-mentioned which they had uttered before, to make ſure that he ſhould underſtand their meaning, and what this odd way of Correction was for. All the while the Maid, who had brought him into it, was peeping through a Hole, and watch⯑ing the Event, as appears afterwards. Mr. Campbell wrote them the following Anſwer, viz. that he hop'd for fair Play; that he un⯑derſ [...]d Be [...]r-garden as well as they; but if a Gentleman was amongſt them, he would expect gentlemanly Uſage. The Rejoinder they made to this, conſiſted it ſeems not of Words but of Action. The Officer in Con⯑junction with another Ruffian, one of the ſtrongeſt of the Three he had brought, com⯑menced the Aſſault. As good luck would have it, he warded off their firſt Blows (it ſeems) with tolerable Succeſs, and a Wine⯑quart-pot ſtanding upon the Table, Duncan took to his Arms, and at Two or Three quick Blows, well manag'd, and cloſe laid in upon the Aſſailants, fell'd them both to the Ground. Here it was that the Maid diſcover'd her Knowledge of it, and Privity to the Plot, to the whole Houſe; for the no ſooner ſees the [165] famous Leader, the valiant Captain, lie ſprau⯑ling on the Floor with bleeding Temples, but ſhe ſhriek'd out, with all the Voice ſhe could exert, Murder, Murder, Murder! Alarm'd at this Out-cry, the Maſter and all the At⯑tendants of the Tavern ſcamper'd up Stairs, burſt into the Room, and found Duncan Camp⯑bell ſtruggling with the other Two, and the Quart-pot ſtill faſt clench'd in his Hand, which they were endeavouring to wrench from him. The Drawers reſcu'd him out of their Hands, and inquir'd into the Matter. The Maid in a fright confeſs'd the whole Thing. The Officer and his Aſſociate rub'd their Eyes as recovering from a ſtunning Sleep, reel'd as they went to riſe, paid the Reckoning, and ſlunk pitifully away, (or as the Rakes Term for it is,) they bruſh'd off, and for all their Odds had the worſt of the Lay. I who had ſome Authority with Mr. Campbell, by reaſon of my Years, and the ſtrict Acquaintance I had with his Mother, when I came and found him in that pickle, and had the whole Relation told me by the People of the Houſe, though I could not forbear pitying him within my own Mind, took upon me to reprehend him, and told him that theſe Hard⯑ſhips would by Providence be daily permitted to fall upon him (for he met with them Twenty Times) while he continued in that irregular way of Living and ſpending his Time, that might be ſo precious to himſelf [166] and many others, in Drunkenneſs and De⯑bauchery; and I think the Leſſons I wrote down to him upon that Head, though a lit⯑tle ſevere juſt at that juncture, were notwith⯑ſtanding well tim'd, and did, as I gueſs'd they would, make a more ſolid Impreſſion in him than at any other. In all theſe Scuffles (whether it is that being deaf and dumb an Affront works deeper upon a Man, and ſo renders him far more fierce or reſolute) it muſt be ſaid, that, though Nature has been kind in making him very Strong, Robuſt, and Active with all, yet he has bore ſome Shocks, one would imagin beyond the Strength of a Man, having ſometimes got the better of Five or Six Ruſſians in Rencounters of the like kind.

The next Banter he met with was in a gentler way, from an unbelieving Lady, and yet ſhe came off with very ill ſucceſs, and the Banter turn'd all upon herſelf in the End.

A Lady of Diſtinction (whoſe Name ſhall therefore be conceal'd in this Place) came with Two or Three of her ſpecial Friends, who took her for the moſt merry innocent ſpotleſs Virgin upon Earth, and whoſe Mo⯑deſty was never ſuſpected in the leaſt by her Relations or Servants that were neareſt a⯑bout here after having rally'd Mr. Campbell [...] ſeveral frivolous Queſtions, doubting his [...], and vexing and teazing him with [...] beyond all Patience, was [167] by him told, that he did not take Fees in his Profeſſion to be made a Jeſt of like a common Fortune-teller, but to do real Good to thoſe who conſulted him, as far as he was able by his Predictions; that he was treated with more Reſpect by Perſons of a higher Condition, though her own was very good, and ſo of⯑fer'd her Guinea back again with a Bow and a Smile. She had a little more Generoſity of Spirit than not to be a little nettled at the Proffer ſhe had caus'd by ſo coarſe an Uſage. She affected appearing grave a little, and told him ſhe would be ſerious for the future, and ask'd him to ſet down her Name, which ſhe had neglected before, to ask other Queſtions that were nothing to the purpoſe. He pro⯑mis'd to write it down, but pauſing a little longer than ordinary about it, ſhe return'd to her former way of uncivil Merriment and ungallant Raillery. She repeated to him in Three or Four little ſcraps of Paper one after another as faſt as ſhe could write them, the ſame Words, viz.—That he could not tell her Name, nor whether ſhe was Maid, Wife, or Widow; and laugh'd as if ſhe would ſplit her Sides, triumphing to the reſt of her Com⯑panions, over his Ignorance and her own Wit, as if ſhe had pos'd him and put him to an entire Stand. But ſee what this over-ween⯑ing Opinion of Security ended in: The Man of the Second Sight, was not to be ſo eaſily baffled. Vex'd at being ſo diſturb'd, and co⯑ming [168] out of his brown Study, he reaches the Paper and begins to write.—Now it was the Lady's turn to ſuffer, ſhe had deſerv'd hearty Puniſhment, and it came into her Hands with the Note, to a degree of Severity; (as you will perceive by the Contents of it juſt now.)—She read it, and ſwooning away, drop'd from her Chair. The whole Room being in a buſtle, I that was in the outward Chamber ran in: While Mr. Campbell was ſprinkling Water in her Face, a Lady ſnatch'd up the Note to read it, at which he ſeem'd migh⯑tily diſpleas'd; I therefore who underſtood his Signs recover'd it out of her Hands by Stra⯑tagem, and ran to burn it, which I did ſo quick, that I was not diſcover'd in the Cu⯑rioſity, which I muſt own I ſatisfied myſelf in, by reading it firſt; a Curioſity rais'd too high, by ſo particular an Adventure, to be overcome in ſo little a Time of Thought, as I was to keep it in my Hands, and ſo I came by the knowledge of it myſelf, without being inform'd by Mr. Campbell. This ſhews how a ſudden Curioſity, when there is not Time given to think and correct it, may overcome a Man as well as a Woman; for I was never over-curious in my Life, and though I was pleas'd with the Oddneſs of the Adventure, I often bluſh'd to myſelf ſince for the unmanly Weakneſs, of not being able to ſtep with a Note, from one Room to another, to the Fire⯑ſide, without peeping into the Contents of it. [169] The Contents of it were theſe. Madam, ſince you provoke me, your Name is—You are no Widow, you are no Wife, and yet you are no Maid; you have a Child at Nurſe at ſuch a Place, by ſuch a Gentleman, and you were brought to Bed in Leiceſterſhire. The Lady convinc'd by this Anſwer, of his ſtrange and myſtical Power, and pleas'd with his Civility, in endeavouring to conceal from others the Secret, after ſo many repeated Pro⯑vocations, though ſhe ſhew'd great Diſorder for that Day, became one of his conſtant At⯑tenders ſome time after, and would not take any Step in her Affairs, without his Advice, which ſhe often has ſaid ſince, ſhe found very much to her Advantage. She was as ſerious in her dealings with him afterwards, and im⯑prov'd by being ſo, as ſhe was gay and turbu⯑lent with him before, and ſmarted for it. In fine, ſhe was a thorough Convert, and a Vo⯑tary of his; and the only Jeſt ſhe us'd after⯑wards to make, concerning him, was a civil Witticiſm to his Wife; to whom ſhe was wont, every now and then, ſmiling, to ad⯑dreſs herſelf, after this manner. Your Huſ⯑band, Madam, is a Devil, but he is a very handſome, and a very civil one.

Not long after this came another Lady, with a like intent, to impoſe upon him, and was reſolv'd (as ſhe own'd) to have laugh'd him to ſcorn, if ſhe had ſucceeded in her At⯑tempt. She had very dexterouſly dreſs'd her [170] ſelf in her Woman's Habit, and her Woman in her own; her Footman ſquired the new made Lady in a very gentlemanly Dreſs hir'd, for that purpoſe of a diſguiſe, from Monmouth⯑ſtreet. The ſtrange and unknown Maſquera⯑ders enter'd Mr. Campbell's Room with much Art. The Fellow was by Nature of a clean Make, and had a good Look, and from fol⯑lowing a genteel Maſter, when he was young, copy'd his Gait a little, and had ſome Appear⯑ance of a Mien, and a tolerable good Air a⯑bout him. But this being the firſt time of his being ſo fine, and he a little vain in his Temper, he over-acted his Part; he ſtrutted too much; he was as fond of his Ruffles, his Watch, his Sword, his Cane, and his Snuff⯑box, as a Boy of being newly put into Breech⯑es; and view'd 'em all too often to be thought the Poſſeſſor of any ſuch things long. The Affe⯑ctation of the Chamber-maid was inſufferable; She had the Toſs of the Head, the Jut of the Bum, the ſide-long Leer of the Eye, the impe⯑rious Look upon her Lady, now degraded in⯑to her Woman, that ſhe was intolerable, and a Perſon without the Gift of the Second Sight, would have gueſs'd her to have been a prag⯑matical Upſtart, tho' 'tis very probable, that during that time, ſhe fancy'd herſelf real⯑ly better than her Miſtreſs: The Miſtreſs acted her Part of Maid the beſt, for it is ea⯑ſier for genteel Modeſty to act a low Part, than for affected Vanity to act a high one. She [171] kept her diſtance like a Servant, but would, to diſguiſe things the better, be every now and then pert, according to their Way, and give Occaſion to be chid. But there is an Air of Gentility in-born and in-bred to ſome People, and even when they aim to be awkward, a certain Grace will attend all their minuteſt Actions and Geſtures, and command Love, Reſpect, and Veneration. I muſt there⯑fore own, that there was not need of a Man's being a Conjurer, to gueſs who ought to be the Lady, and who the Maid; but to know who abſolutely was the Lady, and who was the Maid, did require that Skill. For how many ſuch real Ladies have we, that are made ſo from ſuch Upſtarts, and how many gen⯑teel waiting Women of great Deſcent, that are born with a Grace about them, and are bred to good Manners. Mr. Campbell's Art made him poſitive in the Caſe; he took the Patches from the Face of the Maid, and plac'd them on the Miſtriſſes; he pull'd of her Hood and Scarf and gave it the Lady, and taking from the Lady her Ridinghood, gave it the Maid in exchange; for Ladies at that time of Day were not enter'd into that Faſhion of cloaking themſelves. Then he wrote down that he ſhould go out, and ought to ſend his Maid in to undreſs them quite, and give the Miſtriſs her own Cloaths and the Maid hers, and with a Smile wrote down both their Names and commended her contrivance; but [172] after that, it was remark'd by the Lady, that he pay'd her leſs Reſpect than ſhe expected, and more to her Footman, who was in Gen⯑tleman's Habit, whom he took by his Side, and told a great many fine things; whereas he would tell the Lady nothing further. The Lady nettled at this, wrote to him that ſhe had Vanity enough to believe that ſhe might be diſtinguiſh'd from her Maid in any Dreſs; but that he had ſhown his want of Skill in not knowing who that Gentleman was. Mr. Campbell told her her miſtake in ſharp Terms; and begging her pardon aſſured her he knew ſeveral Chamber-maids as genteel and as well-born as her, and many Miſtreſſes more aukward and worſe-born than her Maid; that he did not go therefore by the Rule of gueſs and judging what ought to be, but by the Rule of Certainty, and the Knowledge of what actually was. She however unſatisfy'd with that Anſwer perplex'd him mightily to know, who the Man was. He anſwer'd he would be a great Man.—The Lady laugh'd ſcornfully, and ſaid ſhe wanted to know who he was, not what he would be.—He an⯑ſwer'd again.—He was her Footman, but that ſhe would have a worſe.—She grew warm and deſired to be inform'd, why, ſince he knew the Fellow's Condition, he reſpected her to little and him ſo much; and accuſed him of want of practiſing Manners, if he had not went of Knowledge. He anſwer'd, Ma⯑dam, [173] ſince you will be asking Queſtions too far.—This Footman will advance himſelf to the Degree of a Gentleman, and have a Woman of Diſtinction to his Wife; while you will degrade yourſelf by a Marriage to be the Wife of a Footman. His Ambition is laudable, your Condeſcenſion mean, there⯑fore I give him the Preference, I have given you fair warning and wholeſome advice, you may avoid your Lot by Prudence; but his will certainly be what I tell you.

This coming afterwards to paſs, exactly as was predicted, and his diſappointing ſo many that had a mind to impoſe upon him, has render'd him pretty free from ſuch wily Con⯑trivances ſince, though now and then they have happen'd, but ſtill to the mortification and diſappointment of the Contrivers. But as we have not pretended to ſay, with regard to theſe things, that he has his Genius always at his Elbow or his Beck, to whiſper in his Ear the Names of Perſons, and ſuch little conſtant Events as theſe; ſo, that we may not be deemed to give a fabulous Account of his Life and Adventures, we think ourſelves bound to give the Reader an inſight, into the particular Power and Capacity which he has, for bringing about theſe particular Perform⯑ances, eſpecially that of writing down Names of Strangers at firſt Sight, which I don't doubt will be done to the ſatisfaction of all [174] Perſons, who ſhall read the ſucceeding Chap⯑ter, concerning the Gift of the Second Sight.

CHAP. VII. Concerning the Second Sight.

MR. Martin lately publiſh'd a Book, in⯑tituled, A Deſcription of the Weſtern Iſles of Scotland, called by the Ancient Geogra⯑phers Hebrides. It contains many curious Par⯑ticulars, relating to the natural and civil Hi⯑ſtory of thoſe Iſlands, with a Map of them; and in his Preface he tells us, that perhaps it's Peculiar to thoſe Iſles, that they have ne⯑ver been deſcribed, till now, by any Man, that was a Native of the Country, or had travell'd them as himſelf has done; and in the Concluſion of the ſaid Preface, he tells us, he has given here ſuch an Account of the Second Sight, as the nature of the thing will bear, which has always been reckon'd ſufficient a⯑mong the unbyaſs'd Part of Mankind; but for thoſe, that will not be ſatisfy'd, they ought to oblige us with a new Scheme, by which we may judge of Matters of Fact. The chief Par⯑ticulars he has given us concerning the Se⯑cond Sight, are here ſet down, by way of Ab⯑ſtract or Epitome, that they may not be too tedious to the Reader.

[175] 1. In the Second Sight the Viſion makes ſuch a lively Impreſſion on the Seers, that they neither ſee nor think of any thing elſe, but the Viſion, as long as it continues. And then they appear Penſive or Jovial, according to the Object, which was preſented to them.

2. At the Sight of a Viſion, the Eye-lids of the Perſon are erected, and the Eyes continue ſtaring till the Object vaniſh, as has often been obſerv'd by the Author and others pre⯑ſent.

3. There is one in Skye, an Acquaintance of whom obſerv'd, that when he ſees a Viſion, the inner Part of his Eylids turns ſo far up⯑wards, that, after the Object diſappenrs, he muſt draw them down with his Fingers, and ſometimes employs others to draw them down, which he finds to be much the eaſier way.

4. The Faculty of the Second Sight does not lineally deſcend in a Family, as ſome ima⯑gin; for he knows ſeveral Parents that are endow'd with it, but not their Children; and ſo on the contrary: Neither is it acquir'd by any previous Compact; and after a ſtrict Enquiry, he could never learn from any a⯑mong them, that this Faculty was commu⯑nicable any way whatſoever.

Note, That this Account is differing from the Account that is given by Mr. Aubrey, a Gentleman of the Royal Society; and I think Mr. Martin's Reaſon here againſt the Deſcent [176] of this Faculty from Parents to Children, is not generally concluſive. For tho' he may know Parents endow'd with it, and not Chil⯑dren; and ſo vice verſâ; yet there may be Parents, who are endow'd with it, being qua⯑lify'd as Mr. Aubrey has ſaid, (viz. both be⯑ing Second Sighted, or even one to an extra⯑ordinary Degree) whoſe Children may have it by deſcent. And as to this Faculty's being any otherways communicable (ſince the Ac⯑counts differ) I muſt leave it to a further Ex⯑amination.

5. The Seer knows neither the Object, Time nor Place of a Viſion before it appears, and the ſame Object is often ſeen by different Perſons, living at a conſiderable diſtance from one another. The true Way of judging as to the Time and Circumſtance of an Object, is by Obſervation; for ſeveral Perſons of Judge⯑ment without this Faculty, are more capable to judge of the Deſign of a Viſion, than a No⯑vice that is a Seer. As an Object appears in the Day or Night, it will come to paſs ſooner or later accordingly.

6. If an Object be ſeen early in the Morn⯑ing (which is not frequent) it will be accom⯑pliſh'd in a few Hours afterwards: If at Noon, it will commonly be accompliſh'd that very Day: If in the Evening, perhaps that Night; if after Candles be lighted, it will be accom⯑pliſh'd that Night: It's later always in Ac⯑compliſhment, by Weeks, Months, and ſome⯑times [177] Years, according to the Time of the Night the Viſion is ſeen.

7. When a Shroud is perceiv'd about one, it's a ſure Prognoſtick of Death; the Time is judg'd according to the Height of it about the Perſon; for if it be not ſeen above the Middle, Death is not to be expected for the ſpace of a Year, and perhaps ſome Months longer; and as it is frequently ſeen to aſcend higher towards the Head, Death is conclu⯑ded to be at hand in a few Days, if not Hours, as daily Experience confirms. Examples of this kind were ſhown the Author, when the Perſons, of whom the Obſervations were made, enjoy'd perfect Health.

There was one Inſtance lately of a Pre⯑diction of this kind, by a Seer that was a Novice, concerning the Death of one of the Author's Acquaintance; this was communi⯑cated to a few only, and with great Confi⯑dence: The Author being one of the Number, did not in the leaſt regard it, till the Death of the Perſon, about the Time foretold, con⯑firm'd to him the certainty of the Prediction. The foreſaid Novice is now a ſkilful Seer, as appears from many late Inſtances: He lives in the Pariſh of St. Mary's, the moſt Nor⯑thern in Skye.

8. If a Woman be ſeen ſtanding at a Man's left Hand, it's a Preſage that ſhe will be his Wife, whether they are married to others, or unmarried, at the Time of the Apparition. [178] If Two or Three Women are ſeen at once, ſtanding near a Man's left Hand, ſhe that is next him will undoubtedly be his Wife firſt, and ſo on, whether all Three, or the Man, be ſingle, or married, at the Time of the Vi⯑ſion; of which there are ſeveral late Inſtances of the Author's Acquaintance. It's an ordi⯑nary thing for them to ſee a Man, that is to come to the Houſe ſhortly after; and tho' he be not of the Seers Acquaintance, yet he not on⯑ly tells his Name, but gives ſuch a lively Deſcription of his Stature, Complexion, Ha⯑bit, &c. that upon his Arrival he anſwers the Character given of him in all reſpects. If the Perſon ſo appearing be one of the Seer's Acquaintaince, he can tell by his Countenance whether he comes in good or bad Humour. The Author has been ſeen thus, by Seers of both Sexes, at ſome Hundreds of Miles Di⯑ſtance: Some that ſaw him in this manner, had never ſeen him perſonally, and it hap⯑pen'd according to their Viſions, without any previous Deſign of his to go to thoſe Places, his coming there being purely accidental; and in the Nineteenth Page of his Book, he tells us, that Mr. Daniel Morriſon a Miniſter, told him, that upon his landing in the Iſland Ro⯑na, the Natives receiv'd him very affectio⯑nately, and addreſſed themſelves to him with this Salutation: God ſave you Pilgrim! You are heartily welcome here, for we have had repeated Apparitions of your Perſon amongſt [179] us; viz. after the manner of the Second Sight.

9. It's ordinary with them to ſee Houſes, Gardens, and Trees, in Places void of all Three, and this in proceſs of Time uſes to be accompliſh'd; of which he gives an Inſtance in the Iſland of Skye.

10. To ſee a Spark of Fire fall upon one's Arm, or Breaſt, is a Fore-runner of a dead Child to be ſeen in the Arms of thoſe Per⯑ſons, of which there are ſeveral freſh In⯑ſtances.

To ſee a Seat empty at the time of one's ſitting in it, is a Preſage of that Perſon's Death quickly after.

When a Novice, or one, that has lately obtain'd the Second Sight, ſees a Viſion in the Night-time without Doors, and comes near a Fire he preſently falls into a Swoon.

Some find themſelves, as it were in a Croud of People, having a Corpſe which they carry along with them; and after ſuch Viſions the Seers come in ſweating, and deſcribe the Peo⯑ple that appear'd; if there are any of their Acquaintance among them, they give an Account of their Names, and alſo of the Bearers. But they know nothing concerning the Corpſe.

All thoſe, that have the Second Sight, do not always ſee theſe Viſions at once, though they are together at the Time; but if one, who has this Faculty, deſignedly touch his [180] fellow Seer, at the Inſtant of a Viſion's appear⯑ing, then the Second ſees it as well as the Firſt.

11. There is the way of fore-telling Death by a Cry, that they call Taisk, which ſome call a Wrath in the Low-land. They hear a loud Cry without Doors, exactly reſembling the Voice of ſome particular Perſon, whoſe Death is foretold by it, of which he gives a late Inſtance, which happen'd in the Village Rigg in Skye Iſle.

12. Things are alſo fore-told by ſmelling ſometimes, as follows. Fiſh or Fleſh is fre⯑quently ſmelt in the Fire, when at the ſame Time neither of the Two are in the Houſe, or, in any probability like to be had in it, for ſome Weeks or Months. This Smell ſe⯑veral Perſons have, who are endued with the Second Sight, and it's always accompliſh'd ſoon after.

13. Children, Horſes, and Cows, have the Second Sight, as well as Men and Women ad⯑vanc'd in Years.

That Children ſee it, it is plain, from their crying aloud at the very Inſtant, that a Corpſe or any other Viſion appears to an ordinary Seer: Of which he gives an Inſtance in a Child, when himſelf was preſent.

That Horſes likewiſe ſee it's very plain, from their violent and ſudden ſtarting, when the Rider, or Seer in Company with them, ſees a Viſion of any kind by Night or Day. It's [181] obſervable of a Horſe, that he will not go forward that way, till he be led about at ſome diſtance from the common Road, and then he is in a Sweat: He gives an Inſtance of this in a Horſe, in the Iſle of Skye.

That Cows have the Second Sight, appears from this; that if a Woman milking a Cow happens to ſee a Viſion by the Second Sight, the Cow runs away in a great fright at the ſame time, and will not be pacify'd for ſome time after.

In Reference to this Paracelſus, Tom. 9. l. de arte preſagâ, writes thus, ‘'Horſes alſo have their Auguries, who perceive, by their Sight and Smell, wandering Spirits, Witches and Spectres, and the like Things; and Dogs both ſee and hear the ſame.'’

Here in the next place the Author anſwers Objections that have lately been made againſt the Reality of the Second Sight.

Firſt, It's objected, that theſe Seers are vi⯑ſionary and melancholy People, who fancy they ſee Things, that do not appear to them or any Body elſe.

He anſwers, The People of theſe Iſles, and particularly the Seers, are very Temperate, and their Diet is ſimple and moderate in Quantity and Quality; ſo that their Brains are not, in all probability, diſordered by un⯑digeſted Fumes of Meat or Drink. Both Sexes are free from Hyſterick Fits, Convul⯑ſions, and ſeveral other Diſtempers of that [180] Sort. There are no Madmen among them, nor any Inſtance of Self-murther. It's ob⯑ſerved among them, that a Man drunk never has a Viſion of the Second Sight; and he that is a Viſionary would diſcover himſelf in other things as well as in that; nor are ſuch, as have the Second Sight, judg'd to be Viſionaries by any of their Friends or Acquaintaince.

Secondly, It's objected, that there are none among the Learned able to oblige the World with a ſatisfactory Account of theſe Viſions; therefore they are not to be believed.

He anſwers, If every Thing, of which the Learned are not able to give a ſatisfactory Ac⯑count, ſhall be condemn'd as Falſe and Impoſ⯑ſible, we ſhall find many other Things, gene⯑rally believ'd, which muſt be rejected as ſuch.

Thirdly, It's objected, that the Seers are Im⯑poſtors, and the People, who believe them, are credulous, and eaſy to be impos'd upon.

He anſwers, The Seers are, generally illi⯑terate, and well-meaning People, and altoge⯑ther void of Deſign; nor could he ever learn that any of them made the leaſt gain of it; neither is it reputable among them to have that Faculty: Beſide the People of the Iſles are not ſo credulous as to believe an Impoſ⯑ſibility, before the thing foretold be accom⯑pliſh'd; but when it actually comes to paſs, afterwards it is not in their Power to deny it, without offering Violence to their Senſes and Reaſon: Beſide, if the Seers were Deceivers, [183] can it be reaſonable to imagin, that all the Iſlanders, who have not the Second Sight, ſhould combine together, and offer Violence to their Underſtandings and Senſes, to force themſelves to believe a Lye from Age to Age? There are ſeveral Perſons among them, whoſe Birth and Education raiſe them above the Suſpicion of concurring with an Impoſture, merely to gratify an illiterate and contemp⯑tible ſort of Perſons. Nor can a reaſonable Man believe, that Children, Horſes, and Cows, could be engaged in a Combination to per⯑ſwade the World of the Reality of a Second Sight.

Every Viſion that is ſeen, comes exactly to paſs, according to the rules of Obſervation, though Novices and heedleſs Perſons do not always judge by thoſe Rules; concerning which he gives Inſtances.

There are Viſions ſeen by ſeveral Perſons, in whoſe Days they are not accompliſh'd; and this is one of the Reaſons, why ſome Things have been ſeen, that are ſaid never to have come to paſs; and there are alſo ſeveral Viſions ſeen, which are not underſtood till they are accompliſh'd.

The Second Sight is not a late Diſcovery, ſeen by one or two in a Corner, or a remote Iſle; but it's ſeen by many Perſons of both Sexes, in ſeveral Iſles, ſeparated about Forty or Fifty Leagues from one another: The In⯑habitants of many of theſe Iſles never had [184] the leaſt Converſe by Word or Writing: And this Faculty of ſeeing Viſions having con⯑tinued, as we are inform'd by Tradition, ever ſince the Plantation of theſe Iſles, without being diſproved by the niceſt Sceptick after the ſtricteſt Inquiry, ſeems to be a clear Proof of its Reality.

It's obſervable, that it was much more common Twenty or Thirty Years ago, than at preſent; for One in Ten does not ſee it now, that ſaw it then.

The Second Sight is not confin'd to the We⯑ſtern Iſles alone, the Author having an Ac⯑count that it's in ſeveral Parts of Holland, but particularly in Bommel, where a Woman has it, for which ſhe is courted by ſome, and dreaded by others. She ſees a Smoak about one's Face, which is the fore-runner of the death of a Perſon ſo ſeen, and ſhe actually foretold the deaths of ſeveral that lived there. She was living in that Town a few Winters ago.

The Second Sight is likewiſe in the Iſle of Man, as appears by this Inſtance. Captain Leathes the chief Commander of Bellfaſt in his Voyage 1690, loſt Thirteen Men by a vio⯑lent Storm, and upon his landing in the Iſle of Man, an ancient Man, Clerk to a Pariſh there, told him immediately that he had loſt Thirteen Men there; the Captain enquired how he came to the Knowledge of that; he anſwer'd that it was by Thirteen Lights, which [185] he had ſeen come into the Church-yard; as Mr. Sacheverel tells us in his late Deſcription of the Iſle of Man. Note, that this is like the Sight of the Corpſe-candles in Wales, which is alſo well atteſted.

Here the Author adds many other Inſtances concerning the Second Sight of which I ſhall ſet down only a few.

A Man in Knockow, in the Pariſh of St. Mary's, the northermoſt Part of Skye, being in perfect Health, and ſitting with his fellow Servants at Night, was on a ſudden taken ill, drop'd from his Seat backward, and then fell a vomiting; at which the Family was much concern'd, he having never been ſubject to the like before; but he came to himſelf ſoon after, and had no ſort of Pain about him. One of the Family, who was accuſtomed to ſee the Second Sight, told them that the Man's Illneſs proceeded from a very ſtrange Cauſe, which was thus. An ill-natur'd Woman (whom he named) who lives in the next ad⯑jacent Village of Bornskittag, came before him in a very angry and furious Manner, her Countenance full of Paſſion, and her Mouth full of Reproaches, and threaten'd him with her Head and Hands, till he fell over, as you have ſeen him. This Woman had a Fancy for the Man, but was like to be diſappointed as to her marrying of him. This Inſtance was told the Author, by the Maſter of the [186] Family, and others, who were preſent when it happen'd.

Sir. Norman Macklead, and ſome others, playing at Tables, at a Game called in Iriſh, Falmermore, wherein there are Three of a Side, and each of them throw the Dice by turns, there happened to be one difficult Point in the diſpoſing of one of the Table-men: This obliged the Gameſter to deliberate, before he was to change his Man, ſince, upon the diſ⯑poſing of it, the winning or loſing of the Game depended; at length the Butler, who ſtood behind, adviſed the Player, where to place the Man, with which he comply'd and won the Game. This being thought extraordi⯑nary, and Sir Norman hearing one whiſper him in the Ear, ask'd who advis'd him ſo skilfully? He anſwer'd it was the Butler, but this ſeem'd more ſtrange, for it was generally thought he could not play at Tables. Upon this Sir Norman ask'd him how long it was ſince he had learn'd to play? And the Fellow own'd that he had never play'd in his Life, but that he ſaw the Spirit Brownie (a Spirit uſually ſeen in that Country) reaching his Arm over the player's Head, and touching the Part with his Finger, where the Table-man was to be placed. This was told the Author by Sir Norman, and others, who happen'd to be preſent at the Time.

Daniel Bow alias Black, an Inhabitant of Bornskittag, who is one of the preciſeſt Seers [187] in the Iſles, foretold the death of a young Woman in Minginis, within leſs than Twenty Four Hours before the Time, and accordingly ſhe died ſuddenly in the Fields; though at the Time of the Prediction ſhe was in perfect health; but the Shrou'd appearing cloſe about her Head, was the Ground of his Confidence, that her Death was at Hand.

The ſame Perſon foretold the Death of a Child in his Maſter's Arms, by ſeeing a Spark of Fire fall on his left Arm, and this was like⯑wiſe accompliſh'd ſoon after the Prediction.

Some of the Inhabitants of Harries, ſailing round the Iſle of Skye with a Deſign to go to the oppoſite Main-land, were ſtrangely ſur⯑prized with an Apparition of Two Men hanging down by the Ropes that ſecured the Maſt, but could not conjecture what it meant; they purſued their Voyage, but the Wind turning contrary, they were forced into Broad⯑ford, in the Iſle of Skye, where they found Sir Donald Mackdonald keeping a Sherriffs Court, and Two Criminals receiving Sentence of Death there. The Ropes and Maſt of that very Boat were made uſe of to hang thoſe Criminals. This was told the Author by ſeveral, who had this Inſtance related to them by the Boat's Crew.

Several Perſons, living in a certain Fami⯑ly, told the Author, that they had frequently ſeen Two Men ſtanding at a Gentlewoman's left-hand, who was their Maſter's Daughter; [188] they told the Men's Names, and being her Equals, it was not doubted but ſhe would be marry'd to one of them; and perhaps to the other, after the Death of the firſt. Sometime after a Third Man appeared, who ſeemed always to ſtand neareſt to her of the Three, but the Seers did not know him, though they could deſcribe him exactly; and, within ſome Months after, this Man, who was ſeen laſt, actually came to the Houſe, and fully anſwer'd the Deſcription given of him, by thoſe, who never ſaw him, but in a Viſion; and he mar⯑ry'd the Woman ſhortly after: They live in the Iſle of Skye, and both themſelves and o⯑thers confirm'd the Truth of this Inſtance, when the Author ſaw them.

Archibald Mack Donald of the Pariſh of St. Mary's in the Iſle of Skye, being reputed fa⯑mous in his Skill of foretelling things to come by the Second Sight, happening to be in the Village Knockow one Night, and before Sup⯑per, told the Family, that he had juſt then ſeen the ſtrangeſt Thing he ever ſaw in his Life: viz. A Man with an ugly long Cap, always ſhaking his Head; but that the ſtrangeſt of all was a little kind of an Harp, which he had, with Four Strings only, and that it had Two Hart's-horns fix'd in the front of it: All that heard this odd Viſion fell a laughing at Archibald, telling him, that he was dreaming, or had not his Wits about him, ſince he pre⯑tended to ſee a Thing which had no Being, [189] and was not ſo much as heard of in any Part of the World. All this could not alter Archi⯑bald's Opinion, who told them, that they muſt excuſe him, if he laugh'd at them, after the Accompliſhment of the Viſion. Archibald re⯑turned to his own Houſe, and within Three or Four Days after, a Man with a Cap, Harp, &c. came to the Houſe, and the Harp, Strings, Horns, and Cap, anſwer'd the Deſcription of them at firſt View, and he ſhook his Head when he play'd; for he had Two Bells fix'd to his Cap. This Harper was a poor Man, who made himſelf a Buffoon for his Bread, and was never ſeen before in thoſe Parts, and at the Time of the Prediction he was in the Iſle of Barray, which is about Twenty Leagues diſtant from that Part of Skye. This Rela⯑tion is vouch'd by Mr. Daniel Martin, and all his Family, and ſuch as were then preſent, and they live in the Village where this hap⯑pened.

One Daniel Nicholſon, Miniſter of St. Ma⯑ry's in Skye, the Pariſh, in which Mr. Archi⯑bald Mac Donald lived, told the Author; that, one Sunday, after Sermon, at the Chappel Uge, he took an occaſion to inquire of Archi⯑bald, if he ſtill retain'd that unhappy Faculty of ſeeing the Second Sight, and wiſh'd him to get rid of it, if poſſible; for, ſaid he, it's no true Character of a good Man. Archibald was highly diſpleas'd, and anſwer'd that he hoped he was no more unhappy than his Neighbours, [190] for ſeeing what they could not perceive. I had, ſaid he, as ſerious Thoughts as my Neighbours in time of hearing a Sermon to Day, and even then I ſaw a Corpſe laid on the Ground cloſe to the Pulpit; and I aſſure you it will be accompliſh'd ſhortly, for it was in the Day-time. There were none in the Pa⯑riſh then Sick, and few are buried at that lit⯑tle Chappel, nay ſometimes not one in a Year. Yet when Mr. Nicholſon return'd to preach in the ſaid Chappel, a Fort-night or three Weeks after, he found one buried in the very Spot, named by Archibald. This Story is vouch'd by Mr. Nicholſon the Miniſter, and ſeveral of the Pariſhioners ſtill living.

Note, That it's counted by many an Argu⯑ment of ſomewhat evil attending this Fa⯑culty of the Second Sight, becauſe there are Inſtances given of ſome Perſons, who have been freed of it, upon uſing ſome Chriſtian Practices. But I ſhall hereafter ſhow that this Opinion cannot be entirely true.

Sir Norman Mac-Lead, who has his Reſi⯑dence in the Iſle of Bernera, which lies be⯑tween the Iſles of N. Viſt and Harries, went to the Iſle of Skye about Buſineſs, without ap⯑pointing any Time for his Return; his Ser⯑vants, in his Abſence, being all together in the large Hall at Night; one of them, who had the Second Sight, told the reſt they muſt remove, for there would be abundance of o⯑ther Company in the Hall that Night: One of [191] his fellow Servants anſwered, that there was very little Likelyhood of that, becauſe of the Darkneſs of the Night, and the Danger of coming through the Rocks, that lie round the Iſle: But within an Hour after, one of Sir Norman's Men came to the Houſe, bidding them provide Lights, &c. for his Maſter had newly landed.

Sir Norman being told of this, called for the Seer and examin'd him about it. He an⯑ſwer'd, that he had ſeen the Spirit Brownie, in humane Shape, come ſeveral times, and make a ſhow of carrying an old Woman, that ſate by the Fire, to the Door, and at laſt ſeem'd to carry her out by Neck and Heels, which made him laugh heartily, and gave oc⯑caſion to the reſt to conclude him Mad, to laugh ſo much without any Reaſon. This Inſtance was told the Author by Sir Norman himſelf.

Four Men from the Iſle of Skye and Harries, went to Barbadoes, and ſtaid there ſome Years; who, though they had wont to ſee the Second Sight in their native Country, never ſaw it in Barbadoes; but upon their Return to England, the firſt Night after their landing, they ſaw the Second Sight; as the Author was told by ſeveral of their Acquaintaince.

John Morriſon, who lives in Bernera of Har⯑ries, wears the Plant called Fuga Daemonum ſewed in the Neck of his Coat, to prevent his ſeeing of Viſions, and ſays, he never ſaw [192] any ſince he firſt carried that Plant about him.

A Spirit, by the Country People called Brownie, was frequently ſeen in all the moſt conſiderable Families in the Iſles, and North of Scotland, in the Shape of a tall Man, having very long brown Hair: But within theſe Twenty Years paſt he has been ſeen but rarely.

There were Spirits alſo that appeared in the ſhape of Women, Horſes, Swines, Cats, and ſome like fiery Balls, which would fol⯑low Men in the Fields, but there have been but few Inſtances of theſe for upwards of Forty Years paſt.

Theſe Spirits us'd alſo to form Sounds in the Air, reſembling thoſe of an Harp, Pipes, crowing of a Cock, and of the grinding of Hand-mills: And ſometimes Voices have been heard in the Air at Night, ſinging Iriſh Songs; the Words of which Songs ſome of the Au⯑thor's Acquaintances ſtill retain, one of them reſembled the Voice of a Woman, who died ſometime before, and the Song related to her State in the other World. All theſe Accounts, the Author ſays, he had from Perſons of as great Integrity, as any are in the World. So far Mr. Martin whoſe Account is ſo long, that I have given the Reader only a ſhort A bridge⯑ment thereof; and ſhall therefore ſatisfy my⯑ſelf, without relating any further Paſſages, by directing the Reader to others alſo, learned [193] Men, who have written on the ſame Subject. Laurentius Ananias printed a Volume in Latin at Venice, Anno 1581, about the Nature of Daemons, where, in the Third Book he writes concerning the Second Sight.—The learned Camerarius does the like, and names a Per⯑ſon of his own Acquaintance, whom he te⯑ſtifies to have had that Gift. St. Auſtin him⯑ſelf teſtifies ſomething (not very different from what we now call the Gift of the Second Sight) of one Curina, who lived in the Country of Hippo in Africa.—Bonayſteau tells us ſome⯑thing like it in his Diſc. de Excell. & Dig. Hominis, concerning the Spirit of Hermoti⯑mus.—So do likewiſe Herodotus and Maximus Tyrius about the Spirit of Ariſtaeus.—Cardan does the ſame in his De rerum variet. l. 8. c. 84. of his Kinſman Baptiſta Cardan a Student at Pavia.—Baptiſta Fulgoſus tells us of what we call the Second Sight, in other Words, in his L. 1. Fact. & dict. memorab. c. 6. Among our own Country-men: The Lord Henry Howard in the Book he writ againſt ſuppoſed Prophecies, in his Seventeenth Chapter tells us a wonderful Story, of this Kind of Sight; and ſure that noble Lord may be look'd upon as an unexceptionable Teſtimony, in a Story he relates of his own Knowledge, he having o⯑therwiſe little Faith in things of this kind. Mr. Cotton Mather, a Miniſter of New England, in his Relation of the Wonders of the inviſible World, inſerted in his Eccleſiaſtical Hiſtory of [194] that Country, printed in London, Anno 1702 in Folio, has given us ſeveral Inſtances of this kind, as alſo of many other diabolical Opera⯑tions. Mr. Baxter's Book concerning the Cer⯑tainty of the World of Spirits, has the like Proofs in it. Mr. Aubrey Fellow of the Roy⯑al Society, has written largely concerning Second ſighted Perſons; ſo has Mr. Beaumont in his Book of Genii and familiar Spirits, who has collected almoſt all the other Accounts together, and many others, whoſe very Names, it would be tedious, to recite: How⯑ever, as there are a few more Paſſages very curious in themſelves; I will venture ſo far upon the Reader's Patience, as not only to recite the Names of the Authors, but the Accounts themſelves, in as ſuccinct and brief a manner, as it is poſſible for any one to do.

Mr. Th. May, in his Hiſtory, Lib. 8. writes, that an old Man (like an Hermit) Second ſight⯑ed, took his leave of King James I. when he came into England: He took little notice of Prince Henry, but addreſſing himſelf to the Duke of York, [ſince King Charles I.] fell a weeping to think what Misfortunes he ſhould undergo; and that he ſhould be one of the moſt miſerable and moſt unhappy Princes, that ever was.

A Scotch Noble-man ſent for one of theſe Second ſighted Men out of the High-lands to give his Judgment of the then great George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. As ſoon as ever [195] he ſaw him; Piſh, ſaid he, he will come to Nothing, I ſee a Dagger in his Breaſt; and he was ſtabb'd in the Breaſt by Captain Felton, as has been at large recounted in ſome of the foregoing Pages.

Sir James Melvin hath ſeveral the like Paſ⯑ſages in his Hiſtory.

A certain old Man in South Wales, told a great Man there of the Fortune of his Family, and that there ſhould not be a Third Male Generation: It has fallen out accordingly.

Sir. William Dugdale with his own Mouth inform'd ſeveral Gentlemen, that Major Ge⯑neral Middleton (ſince Lord) went into the High-lands of Scotland, to endeavour to make a Party for King Charles I. An old Gentle⯑man (that was Second ſighted) came and told him that his Endeavour was good; but he would be unſucceſsful; and moreover, That they would put the King to death: And that ſeveral other Attempts would be made, but all in vain: But that his Son would come in, but not reign in a long Time: But would at laſt be reſtored. This Lord Middleton had a great Friendſhip with the Laird Bocconi, and they made an Agreement, that the firſt of them that died, ſhould appear to the other in Ex⯑tremity. The Lord Middleton was taken Priſoner at Worceſter Fight, and was Priſoner in the Tower of London, under Three Locks. Lying in his Bed Penſive Bocconi appeared to him; my Lord Middleton ask'd him if he [196] were dead or alive? He ſaid, dead, and that he was a Ghoſt; and told him that within Three Days he ſhould eſcape, and he did ſo, in his Wife's Cloaths; when he had done his Meſſage he gave a frisk and ſaid

And then gather'd up and vaniſhed. This Ac⯑count Sir. William Dugdale had from the Bi⯑ſhop of Edenburgh: And this Account he hath writ in a Book of Miſcellanies, which is now repoſited (with other Books of his) in the Muſaeum at Oxford.

Thus the Reader ſees what great Autho⯑rities may be produced to prove that wonder⯑ful and true Predictions have been delivered by many Perſons gifted with the Second Sight. The moſt learned Men in almoſt all Nations, who are not in all likelyhood deceiv'd them⯑ſelves. The moſt celebrated and authentick Hiſtorians, and ſome Divines, in England, who, 'tis not to be thought, have combined together and made it their Buſineſs to obtrude upon us Falſehoods; Perſons of all Ranks, from the higheſt to the loweſt, in Scotland, who, it would be even Madneſs to think, would join in a Confederacy to impoſe Tricks upon us, and to perſwade us to the greateſt of Impoſtures as ſolemn Truths delivered from their own Mouths; all theſe (I ſay) have unanimouſly and (as it were) with one Voice aſſerted, repeated, and confirm'd, to us, [197] that there have been at all Times, and in many different Nations, and that ſtill there are Perſons, who, poſſeſs'd with the Gift of a Second Sight, predict Things that wonderfully come to paſs; and ſeem to merit very little leſs than the Name of Prophets, for their mi⯑raculous Diſcoveries. Now if any Man ſhould come, and without giving the leaſt manner of Reaſon for it, (for there is no Reaſon to be given againſt ſuch Aſſertions) declare his diſ⯑belief of all theſe authentick, though ſtrange, Accounts; can he with Reaſon imagin that his Incredulity ſhall paſs for a Token of Wiſ⯑dom? Shall his Obſtinacy confute the Learned? Shall his Want of Faith be thought juſtly to give the Lye to ſo many Perſons of the higheſt Honour and Quality, and of the moſt undoubted Integrity? In fine, ſhall his Infidelity, by a re⯑verſe kind of Power to that which is attribu⯑ted to the Philoſophers Stone, be able to change the Nature of Things, turn and tranſmute Truth into Falſehood, and make a down right plain Matter of Fact to be no more than a Chimera, or an Ens Rationis? And ſhall a manifeſt Ex⯑perience be ſo eaſily exploded?

Taking it therefore for granted, that no modeſt Man whatſoever, (though never ſo hard of Belief, which is certainly as great a Weakneſs as that of too much Credulity) will make bold openly to declare his diſ-belief of Things ſo well atteſted; and taking it much more for granted ſtill, that it is impoſſible for [198] any Man of common Senſe to have the Front of declaring his Diſ-belief of them in ſuch a manner, as to urge it for an Argument and a Reaſon why others ſhould diſ-believe them too; taking this, I ſay, as I think I very well may, for granted, I think there remains nothing further for me to offer, before I con⯑clude this Chapter, except a few Remarks, as to the Similitude there is between thoſe Actions, which I have related above to have been performed by Mr. Campbell, and theſe Actions, which ſo many learned ingenious and noble Authors, as I have juſt now quoted, have aſſerted to have been performed by Per⯑ſons, whom they knew to be gifted with the Second Sight.

As to what is ſaid (ſeveral Pages above) concerning Duncan Campbell, when a Boy at Edinburgh, that he even told his little Com⯑panions, who would have Succeſs at their little Matches, when they play'd at Marbles; and that he inform'd a great Gameſter there whoſe Name I have diſguiſed under that of Count Cog, what Times he ſhould chuſe to play if he would win, as ludicrous as it may have appear'd to be, and as much as it may have ſeem'd to my Readers to carry with it nothing better than the Face of Invention, and the Air of Fiction; yet if they will be at the pains of comparing that Paſſage of Dun⯑can Campbell's, with the Account given in this Chapter from the Mouth of Sir Norman [199] Maclead, concerning a Man, who, though he never play'd at Tables in his Life, inſtructed a skilful Gameſter, when he was at a ſtand, to place one of his Men right, upon which the whole Game depended, which the igno⯑rant Fellow, when ask'd how he came to do it, ſaid he was directed to by the Spirit Brownie; whoever I ſay will be at the pains of comparing theſe Paſſages together, will find they bear a very near reſemblance, and that the way we may moſt reaſonably account for Duncan Campbell's Prediction, when he was a Boy, muſt be, that he was at that time di⯑rected by his little Genius or familiar Spirit, which I deſcribed in the precedent Pages, as this Fellow was by the Spirit Brownie, accor⯑ding to Sir Norman Maclead's Aſſertion, which Spirit Brownie, as Mr. Marten a very good and credited Writer aſſures us, in his Hiſtory of the Weſtern Iſlands dedicated to the late Prince George of Denmark, is a Spirit uſually ſeen all over that Country.

If the Reader recollects, He will remem⯑ber likewiſe that, in the little Diſcourſe, which I mentioned to have been held between me and this Duncan Campbell when a Boy con⯑cerning his little Genius, I there ſay, the Boy ſignified to me, that he ſmelt Veniſon, and was ſure that ſome would come to his Mo⯑ther's Houſe ſhortly after; accordingly I came thither that Morning from the Death of a Deer, and order'd a part of it to be brought [200] after me to her Houſe. Now Mr. Marten's Twelfth Obſervation about the Second Sight in this Chapter clears it plainly up that this Knowledge in the Boy proceeded from the Gift of Second Sight. Not to give the Rea⯑der too often the Trouble of looking back in order to judge of the Truth of what I ſay; I will here repeat that Obſervation; which is as follows. Things are alſo foretold by Smelling ſometimes: For Example Fiſh or Fleſh is frequently ſmelt in the Fire, when at the ſame time neither of the Two are in the Houſe, or, in any probability, like to be had in it, for ſome Weeks or Months. This Smell ſeveral Perſons have, who are endued with the Se⯑cond Sight, and its always accompliſh'd ſoon after.

But I will here omit any further Remarks by way of accounting how he compaſs'd his Predictions, when a Boy, either by the In⯑tervention of his Genius, or the Gift of a Se⯑cond Sight; and examin how nearly thoſe Things, which I have related to have been done by him in his more advanc'd Years, when he took up the Profeſſion of a Predictor in London, correſpond with the Accounts giv⯑en us in this Chapter about a Second Sight, and how near a Reſemblance the Things done by him bear to thoſe Things that are ſo well at⯑teſted to have been perform'd by others, thro' the efficacious Power of this wonderful Fa⯑culty.

[201] Firſt then, if we have a mind to make a tolerable gueſs, which way Mr. Campbell came acquainted that the Death of the beautiful young Lady, Mrs. W [...]lw [...]d was ſo near at Hand, and that, tho' ſhe was ſo univerſally admired, ſhe would die unmarried; the Ac⯑counts given of other Second ſighted Perſons in the like Caſes, will put us in the moſt pro⯑bable way of gueſſing right. This is ex⯑plain'd by the Seventh Obſervation in this Chapter, where it is ſaid from Mr. Marten, that when a Shroud is perceiv'd about one, it's a ſure Prognoſtick of Death; the Time is judg'd according to the Height of it, about the Perſon; for if it be not ſeen above the Middle, Death is not to be expected for the ſpace of a Year or longer, but as it comes nearer to the Head it is expected ſooner; if to the very Head, it is concluded to be at Hand within a few Days, if not Hours. Of this we have an Example of which Mr. Mar⯑ten was an Eye-witneſs, concerning the Death of his own Acquaintance; but he did not in the leaſt regard it, till the Death of the Per⯑ſon, about the Time foretold, confirm'd to him the Certainty of the Prediction.

Secondly, As to the ignominious Death, that Irwin came to, and which He predicted to his Mother, ſo long before, when ſhe was in flouriſhing Circumſtances, and when there was no appearance, that any of her Children ſhould be brought to a beggarly Condition, [202] and learn among baſe Gangs of Company to thieve, and be carried to the Gallows: The Story told in this Chapter of ſome of the Inha⯑bitants of Harries, ſailing round the Iſle of Skye, and ſeeing the Apparition of Two Men hang⯑ing by the Ropes on the Maſt of their Veſ⯑ſel, and when they came to the oppoſite Main-Land, finding Two Criminals juſt ſentenc'd to Death, by Sir Donald Mac Donald, and ſee⯑ing their own very Maſt and Ropes made choice of for their Execution, clears up the manner how Mr. Campbell might predict this of Irwin likewiſe by the force of the Second Sight.

Thirdly, As to Mr. Campbell's telling Chri⯑ſtallina the Belle and chief Toaſt of the Court, and Urbana the reigning Beauty of the City, that they ſhould ſhortly be married, and who were to be their Husbands; it is a Thing he has done almoſt every Day in his Life to one Woman or other, that comes to conſult him about the Man ſhe is to be married to; the manner, he probably takes in doing this, may be likewiſe explain'd by the foregoing Story in this Chapter, about the Servants, who ſaid they ſaw Three Men ſtanding by the left Hand of their Maſter's Daughter; and that he, that was neareſt would marry her firſt whom they plainly and exactly deſcribed, tho' they had never ſeen him but in their Viſion, as appeared afterwards. For within ſome Months after the very Man deſcribed did [203] come to the Houſe, and did marry her. Vide the Eight Obſervation of the Second Sight.

Fourthly, As to the Predictions deliver'd by Mr. Campbell to the Merchant, which are ſet down at length in the foregoing Chapter, I know no better way at gueſſing the manner how the Second Sight operated in him at that Time, than by comparing them to theſe Two Inſtances, which I briefly repeat, becauſe they are ſet down at length before, in this Chapter. And firſt it may be ask'd how did the Second Sight operate in Mr. Campbell, when it gave him to know, that the Merchant's Ships, which repeated Intelligences had in appearance confirm'd to be loſt, were at that time ſafe, and would return ſecurely home into the Harbour deſigned? The beſt way of accounting for it, that I know, is by the Story that Sir Norman Mack-Lead is above affirm'd to have told with his own Mouth concerning a Servant of his, who rightly foretold his re⯑turning Home and landing on the Iſle of Ber⯑ [...]era one Night, where his Reſidence is, when there was very little or no likelyhood of it, becauſe of the Darkneſs of the Night, and the Danger of coming through the Rocks that lie round the Iſle. When Sir Norman exa⯑min'd him about it; he anſwer'd that he knew it by a Viſion of the Spirit Brownic: and hence it may be the moſt probably conjectured that Mr. Campbell's Knowledge of the Merchant's Ships being ſafe, came from a Viſion of his [204] particular Genius or familiar Spirit which we ſpoke of before. What I have already in⯑ſtanced in, is (I think) ſufficient with regard to the wonderful Things which Mr. Camp⯑bell has perform'd either by the Intervention of a Genius or the Power of a Second Sight. But as he has frequently done a great many amazing Performances, which ſeem to be of ſuch a Nature, that they can't be well and clearly explain'd to have been done either by the Intervention of his familiar Spirit and Genius, or by the Power of the Second ſighted Faculty, we muſt have recourſe to the Third Means, by which only ſuch Predictions and Practices can be compaſs'd, before we expound theſe new Myſteries, which appear like incre⯑dible Riddles, and Aenigma's at the firſt; and this Third Means which we muſt have recourſe to, for expounding theſe ſtrange Acts of his, is a due conſideration of the Force and Power of Natural Magick, which together with a Nar⯑rative of the Acts, which he ſeems magically to bring about, will be the Subject of the following Chapter.

CHAP. VIII.

BUT before we proceed to our Diſqui⯑ſitions concerning the Power and Effica⯑cy of natural Magick, and examin what my⯑ſterious Operations may be brought about and compaſs'd by magical Practices, and before we take a further Survey of what Mr. Camp⯑bell has perform'd in this kind, that relates to his Profeſſion and the publick Part of his Life, which concerns other People as well as himſelf; I ſhall here relate ſome ſingular Ad⯑ventures, that he paſs'd thoro' in his private Life, and which regard only his own Perſon. In order to this, I muſt return back to the Year 1702, about which time ſome unac⯑countable Turns of Fortune attended him in his own private Capacity, which muſt be very ſurprizing and entertaining to my Rea⯑ders, when they find a Man, whoſe Fore-ſight was always ſo great a Help and Aſſiſtance to others, who conſulted him in their own fu⯑ture Affairs, helpleſs (as it has been an Ob⯑ſervation concerning all ſuch Men in the ac⯑count of the Second Sight) and blind in his own future Affairs, toſs'd up and down by inevitable and ſpightful Accidents of Fortune, and made the May-game of Chance and Ha⯑zard, as if that way-ward and inconſtant Goddeſs was reſolv'd to puniſh him, when [206] ſhe catch'd him on the blind Side, for having ſuch a quick inſight and penetrating Faculty in other Peoples Matters, and ſcrutinizing too narrowly into her Myſteries, and ſo ſome⯑times preventing thoſe fatal Intentions of hers, into which ſhe would fain lead many Mor⯑tals hood-wink'd, and before they knew where they were. In this Light, theſe mighty and famous Seers ſeem to be born for the Benefit and Felicity of others, but at the ſame time to be born to Unhappineſs themſelves. And cer⯑tainly, in as much as we conſider them as uſeful and beneficial often, but always ſatisfactory, to Perſons, who are curious in their Inquiries about their Fortunes; it will be natural to thoſe of us, who have the leaſt Share of Ge⯑neroſity in our Minds, to yield our Pity and Compaſſion to them, when they are remar⯑kably unfortunate themſelves; eſpecially when that Calamity ſeems more particularly to light upon them for their Ability, and Endeavour to conſult the good Fortune of other Folks.

About the abovementioned Year 1702, Dun⯑can Campbel grew a little tired of his Profeſſion. Such a multitude of Followers troubled him, ſeveral of whom were wild Youths and came to banter him, and many more too inquiſitive Females, to teaze him with endleſs Imper⯑tinences, and who, the more he told them, had ſtill the more to ask, and whoſe Curio⯑ſity was never to be ſatisfied: And beſides this he was ſo much envy'd, and had ſo many [207] malicious Artifices daily practiſed againſt him, that he reſolv'd to leave off his Profeſſion. He had (I know) follow'd it pretty cloſely from the time I firſt ſaw him in London, which was I think in the beginning of the Year 1698, till the Year 1702, with very good Succeſs; and in thoſe few Years he had got together a pretty round Summ of Mony. Our young Seer was now at Man's Eſtate, and had learn'd the Notion that he was to be his own Gover⯑nour, ſo far as to be his own Counſellor too in what Road of Life he was to take, and this Conſideration (no doubt) work'd with a deeper Impreſſion on his Mind, than it uſu⯑ally does on others that are in the ſame bloſ⯑ſoming Pride of Manhood, becauſe it might appear more natural for him to believe, that he had a ſufficient Ability to be his own pro⯑per Adviſer, who had given ſo many others, and ſome more aged than himſelf, Counſel, with very good Succeſs. Now every expe⯑rienc'd Perſon knows, that when Manhood is yet green, it is ſtill in the ſame dangerous Con⯑dition as a young Plant, which is liable to be warp'd by a Thouſand croſs fortuitous Acci⯑dents, if good Meaſures be not taken to ſup⯑port it againſt all the contingent Shocks it may meet with from the Weather or other⯑wiſe. Now it was his Misfortune to be made averſe to Buſineſs, which he lov'd before, by having too much of it, and to be ſo ſoured by meeting with numerous Perplexities and [208] malicious Rubs laid in his way by invidious People, (who are the uſeleſs and injurious Buſy⯑bodies, that always repine at the good of o⯑thers, and rejoice to do harm to the Diligent and Aſſiduous, though they reap no Profit by it themſelves;) that he was diſguſted and de⯑terr'd entirely from the Proſecution of a Pro⯑feſſion, by which he got not only a compe⯑tent but a copious and plentiful Subſiſtence. Nay indeed this was another Miſchief ariſing to him from his having ſo much Buſineſs, that he had got Money enough to leave it off, when the Perplexities of it had made him willing to do ſo, and to live very comfortably and handſomely, like a Gentleman without it, for a time; and we know the youngeſt Men are not wont to look the fartheſt before them, in matters that concern their own Wel⯑fare. Now inaſmuch as he had thus taken a Diſguſt to Buſineſs and Application, and was ſurfeited (as I may ſay) with the Perplexities of it, it muſt be as natural for him, we know, to ſearch for Repoſe in the contrary extream, viz. Recreation and Idleneſs, as it is for a Man to ſeek Reſt after Toil, to ſleep after a Day's Labour, or to ſit down after a long and tireſome Walk. But there are two very di⯑ſtinct ſorts of Idleneſs, and two very different kinds of Recreation; there is a ſhameful Idle⯑neſs which is no better than down-right Sloth; and there is a ſplendid kind of Indo⯑lence, where a Man having taken an Averſion [209] to the Weariſomeneſs of a Buſineſs which pro⯑perly belongs to him, neglects not however to employ his Thoughts, when they are va⯑cant from what they ought more chiefly to be about, in other Matters not entirely un⯑profitable in Life, the Exerciſe of which he finds he can follow with more abundant Eaſe and Satisfaction. There are ſome Sorts of Recreations too, that are mean, fordid, and baſe; others, that are very innocent, though very diverting, and that will give one the very next moſt valuable Qualifications of a Gentleman, after thoſe, which are obtained by a more ſerious Application of the Mind. The Idea which I have already given my Readers of our Duncan Campbell, will eaſily make them judge, before I tell them, which way, in theſe two Ways, his Genius would naturally lead him; and that, when he grew an idle Man, he would rather indulge him⯑ſelf with applying his Mind to the ſhining Trifles of Life, than be wholly ſlothful and unactive; and that when he diverted him⯑ſelf he would not do it after a fordid baſe manner, as having a better taſte and a reliſh for good Company; but that his Recreations would ſtill be the Recreations of a Gentle⯑man. And juſt, accordingly, as my Readers would naturally judge before-hand in his Caſe, ſo it really happened. The Moment he ſhook of Buſineſs, and diſmiſs'd the Thoughts of it, his Genius led him to a very gallant [210] Way of Life; in his Lodgings, in his Enter⯑tainments in paying and receiving Viſits, in Coffee-houſes, in Taverns, in fencing Schools, in Balls and other publick Aſſemblies, in all ways in fine both at home and abroad, Dun⯑can Campbell was a well comported and civil fine Gentleman; he was a Man of Pleaſure, and nothing of the Man of Buſineſs appeared about him. But a Gentleman's Life without a Gentleman's Eſtate, however ſhining and pleaſant it may be for a time, will certainly end in Sorrow if not in Infamy; and com⯑paring Life (as Moraliſts do) to a Day, one may ſafely pronounce this Truth to all the ſplendid Idlers, I have mention'd, that if they have ſunſhiny Weather till Noon, yet the After-noon of their Life will be very ſtormy, rainy and uncomfortable, and per⯑haps juſt at the end of their Journey, to carry on the Metaphor throughout, cloſe in the dark⯑eſt kind of Night. Of this, as I was a Man of Years and more experienc'd in the World than he, I took upon me to forewarn Mr. Campbell, as ſoon as I perceiv'd the firſt dange⯑rous Fit of this elegant Idleneſs had ſeiz'd him. But when will young Men, by ſo much the more head-ſtrong as they have leſs of the Beard, be guided and brought to learn, and when ſhall we ſee that happy Age, in which the grey Heads of old Men ſhall be clapp'd upon the Shoulders of Youth? I told him, that in this one thing he ought to conſult me, [211] and acknowledge me to be a true Prophet, if I told him the end of the ſeeming merry Steps in Life, he was now taking, would in⯑fallibly bring him to a Labyrinth of Difficul⯑ties, out of which if he extricated himſelf at all, he would at leaſt find it a laborious piece of Work. His Taſte had been already vitia⯑ted with the Sweets which lay at the top of the bitter Draught of Fortune, and my honeſt rugged Counſel came too late to prevail, when his Fancy had decoy'd and debauch'd his Judgement, and carry'd it over into another Intereſt. I remember I writ down to him the moral Story, where vicious Pleaſure and Virtue are pictured by the Philoſopher to ap⯑pear before Hercules, to court him into two ſeveral Paths. I told him more particu⯑larly ſince he had not an Eſtate to go th [...] with the gentlemanly Life (as he call'd it) that, if he follow'd the alluring Pleaſures, which endeavour'd to tempt Hercules, he would in⯑volve himſelf at laſt in a whole heap of Mi⯑ſeries, out of which it would be more than an Herculean Labour for him to diſentangle himſelf again. If he had been a Man that could have ever heard with either, I would have told the Reader in a very familiar Idi⯑om, that he turn'd the deaf Ear to me; for he did not mind one Syllable nor Tittle of the Preſcriptions I ſet down for him, no more than if he had never read them; but, varying the Phraſe a little, I may ſay at leaſt, when [212] he ſhould have look'd upon my Counſel with all the Eyes he had, he turn'd the blind Side upon it. I was reſolv'd to make uſe of the Revenge natural to a Man of Years, and there⯑fore apply'd that reproachful Proverb to him, which we Ancients delight much in making uſe of to Youths, that follow their own falſe and hot Imaginations, and will not heed the cooler Dictates of Age, Experience, and Wiſdom. Accordingly I wrote down to him theſe Words and left him in a ſeeming Paſ⯑ſion. I am very well aſſured, young Man, you think me, that am Old to be a Fool; but I, that am Old, abſolutely know you who are a young Fellow, to be a down-right Fool, and ſo I leave you to follow your own ways, till ſad and woful Experience teaches you to know it your ownſelf, and makes you come to me to own it of your own accord. As I was go⯑ing away after this tart Admonition and ſe⯑vere Reprimand, I had a Mind to obſerve his Countenance, and I ſaw him ſmile, which I rightly conſtrued to be done in contempt of the advice of Age, and in the Gaiety and Ful⯑neſs of Conceit, which Youth entertains of its own fond Opinions and hair-brain'd raſh Reſolves. He was got into the Company of a very pretty ſet of Gentlemen, whoſe For⯑tunes were far ſuperior to his; but he follow'd the ſame genteel Exerciſes, as Fencing, &c. and made one at all their publick Entertain⯑ments; and ſo being at an equal Expence, [213] with thoſe, who could well afford to ſpend, what they did, out of their Eſtates; he went on very pleaſantly for a time, ſtill ſpending and never getting, without ever conſidering, that it muſt, by inevitable conſequence, fall to his Lot at laſt to be entirely reduced to a State of Indigence and Want. And what com⯑monly heightens the Misfortune of ſuch Men (and ſo of all Gentlemens younger Brothers,) who live upon the ready Money that is given them for their Portions, is, that the Proſpe⯑rity they live in for a time gains them Credit enough, juſt to bring them in Debt, and ren⯑der them more Miſerable, than thoſe very Wratches, who never had either any Money or Credit at all. They run themſelves into Debt out of Shame, and to put off the evil Day of appearing ruin'd Men as long as they can, and then when their Tempers are ſou⯑er'd by Adverſity, they grow tir'd of their own Lives, and then in a Quarrel they or ſome other Gentleman, may be, is run thorough, or elſe being hunted by Bayliffs, they Exer⯑ciſe their Swords upon thoſe Purſuers. Thus where Gentlemen will not conſider their Cir⯑cumſtances, their very Proſperity is a Cauſe of, and aggravates their Miſery, their very Pride (which was a decent Pride at firſt) in keeping up and maintaining their Credit, ſub⯑jects them too often to the loweſt and the meaneſt Acts, and their Courage, which was of a laudable Kind, turns into a brutiſh and [214] ſavage Rage; and all the fine, eſteem'd flou⯑riſhing and happy, Gentleman ends, and is loſt in the contemn'd poor and miſerable Deſperado, whoſe Portion at laſt is Confine⯑ment and a Goal, and ſometimes even worſe, and what I ſhall not ſo much as name here. Into many of theſe Calamities Mr. Campbell had brought himſelf, before it was long, by his heedleſneſs, and running, according to the wild Dictates of Youth, counter to all ſound and wholeſome Advice. He had (it ſeems) run himſelf into Debt, and one Day, as he was at a Coffee-houſe the Sign of the Three Crowns in great Queen-ſtreet, in ruſh'd Four Bayliffs upon him, who being directed by the Creditor's Wife, had watch'd him into that Houſe, and told him they had a Warrant a⯑gainſt him, and upon his not anſwering, they being unacquainted with his being deaf and dumb, offer'd to ſeize his Sword. He ſtart⯑led at their offering of Violence, and taking them for Ruſſians (which he had often met with) repell'd the Aſſaulters, and drawing his Sword, as one Man, more bold than the reſt, cloſed in with him, he ſhorten'd his Blade, and in the Fall pinn'd the Fellow through the Shoulder, and himſelf through the Leg, to the Floor. After that he ſtood at Bay with all th [...] Four Officers, when the moſt miſchievous Aſſailant of them all, the Creditor's Wife, [...] to ſtep into the Fray, and very bar⯑borously took hold of that nameleſs Part of [215] the Man, for which, as ſhe was a married Woman, Nature methinks ſhould have taught her to have a greater Tenderneſs, and almoſt ſqueez'd and cruſh'd thoſe Vitals to death. But at laſt he got free from them all, and was going away as faſt as he could, not knowing what Conſequences might enſue. But the Woman who aim'd herſelf at committing Murder, in the moſt ſavage and inhuman Manner, ran out after him, crying out Mur⯑der, Murder, as loud as ſhe could, and alarm⯑ed the whole Street. The Bayliff's following the Woman, and being bloody from Head to Foot, by means of the Wound he receiv'd, gave Credit to the Outcry. The late Earl Ri⯑vers's Footmen happening to be at the Door ran immediately to ſtop the ſuppos'd Mur⯑derer, and they indeed did take him at laſt, but perceiv'd their Miſtake, and diſcovered that inſtead of being Aſſiſtants in taking a Man, whom they thought to be a Murderer endeavouring to make his Eſcape from the Hands of Juſtice, they had only been trick'd in by that falſe Cry to be Adjutants to a Bay⯑liff in retaking a Gentleman who, by ſo gallant a Defence, had reſcu'd himſelf from the Dan⯑gers of a Priſon; and when they had diſco⯑ver'd this their Miſtake they were mighty ſorry for what they had done. The moſt a⯑ctive and buſy among the Earl's Footmen was a Dutch Man, and the Earl happening to be in a Room next the Street, and hearing the [216] Outcry of Murder, ſtep'd to the Window, and ſeeing his own Servants in the midſt of the Buſtle, examin'd the Dutch Man how the Matter was, and, being told it, he chid the Man for being concern'd in ſtopping a Gen⯑tleman that was getting free from ſuch trou⯑bleſome Companions. But the Dutch Man excuſed himſelf, like a Dutch Man, by ma⯑king a very merry Blunder for a Reply. Sa⯑cramente, ſaid he, to his Lord, if I had thought they were Bayliffs, I would have fought for the poor dumb Gentleman, but then why had not he told me they were Bailiffs my Lord?

In ſhort, Duncan Campbell was carry'd off as their Priſoner; but the Bayliff, that was wounded, was led back to the Coffee Houſe where he pretended the Wound was Mortal, and that he deſpair'd of living an Hour. The Proverb however was of the Fellow's Side, and he recover'd ſooner than other People ex⯑pected he could. Aſſoon as all Danger was over, an Action for Damages and ſmart Mo⯑ney (as their Term is) was brought againſt Mr. Campbell; the Damages were exaggera⯑ted and the Demand was ſo extravagant, that Duncan Campbell was neither able, juſt at that Time, nor willing, had he been able, to pay ſo much, as he thought, in his own Wrong, and having no Bail, and being aſham'd to make his caſe known to his better ſort of Friends, who were both able and willing to help him at a dead Liſt, he was hurry'd away [217] to Goal by the Bayliffs, who ſhew'd ſuch a malignant and inſolent Pleaſure, as commonly attends powerful Revenge, when they put him into the Marſhalſea. There he lay in Confinement Six Weeks, till at laſt Four or Five of his chief Friends came by mere Chance to hear of it; immediately they con⯑ſulted about his Deliverance and unanimouſly reſolved to contribute for his Enlargement, and they accordingly went croſs the Water to⯑gether, and procured it out of Hand.

Two of his Benefactors were Officers, and were juſt then going over to Flanders. Dun⯑can Campbell, to whom they communicated their Deſign, was reſolved to try his Fortune in a Military Way, out of a roving kind of Humour, raiſed in him partly by his having taken a ſort of Averſion to his own Profeſſion in Town, and partly, by his finding, that he could not live, without following a Profeſſion as he had done, any longer. He over a Bot⯑tle frankly imparted his Mind to them at large; he ſignify'd to them that he hoped, ſince they had lately done him ſo great a Fa⯑vour, in freeing him from one Captivity, they would not think him too urgent, if he preſs'd for one Favour further, upon Natures ſo ge⯑nerous as theirs, by whom he took as great a Pleaſure in being obliged, as he could re⯑ceive in being capable of obliging others. He wrote to them that the Favour he meant was to redeem him from another Captivity, al⯑moſt [218] as irkſome to him, as that, out of which they had lately ranſom'd him. This Captivity, continued he, is, being either forc'd to follow my old Profeſſion, which I have taken an en⯑tire Diſguſt to, for a Maintenance, or being forc'd to live in a narrower Way than ſuits with my Genius, and the better Taſte I have of higher Life. Such a State, Gentlemen, you know, is more unpalatable than Half-pay; it is like either being forc'd to go upon the for⯑lorn Hope, or elſe like a Man's being an entire⯑ly caſhier'd and broken Officer, that had no younger Brother's Fortune, and no other Sup⯑port but his Commiſſion. Thus though you have ſet my Body at Liberty, my Soul is ſtill under an Impriſonment, and will be till I leave England, and can find means of viſiting Flanders, which I can do no otherwiſe than by the advantage of having you for my Con⯑voy. I have a mighty longing to Experience ſome part of a Military Life, and I fancy, if you will grant me your Intereſt, and intro⯑duce me to the valiant young Lord Lorne, and be Spokeſ-men for a dumb Man, I ſhall meet with a favourable Reception, and as for you (Gentlemen) after having named that great Patron and Pattern of Courage and Conduct in the Field, I can't doubt but the very Name I bear, if you had not known me, would have made you taken me for a Perſon of a Military Genius, and that I ſhould do nothing but what would become a Britiſh [219] Souldier, and a Gentleman; nothing in fine, that ſhould make you repent the Recom⯑mendation.

Theſe generous and gallant Friends of his, it ſeems, comply'd with his Requeſt, and pro⯑mis'd they would make Application for him to the Lord Lorne, and Duncan Campbell had nothing to do but to get his Bag and Baggage ready and provide himſelf with a Paſs. His Baggage was not very long a getting toge⯑ther, and he had it in tolerable good Order, and as for his Paſs, a Brother of the Lord Forbes was ſo kind, as to procure him one, upon the firſt Application Duncan made to him.

Accordingly in a few Days afterwards they went on Board, and having a ſpeedy and an eaſy Paſſage, arrived ſoon at Rotterdam. Dun⯑can met with ſome of his Engliſh Acquaint⯑ance in that Town, and his Mind being pret⯑ty much bent upon rambling, and ſeeing all the Curioſities, Cuſtoms, and Humours, he could, in all the foreign Places he was to paſs thorough; he went out of a Frolick with ſome Gentlemen, next Day, in a Boat to an adjacent Village, to make merry over a home⯑ly Dutch Entertainment, the intended Repaſt being to conſiſt of what the Boors there count a great Delicacy, brown Bread and white Beer. He walk'd out of ſight from his Com⯑pany, and they loſt one another; and ſtroling about by himſelf at an unſeaſonable Hour, as [220] they call it there after the Bell has toll'd, Duncan Campbell, who neither knew their Laws, nor if he had, was capable of being guided by the notice which their Laws ordain, was taken into Cuſtody in the Village for that Night, and carry'd away the next Day to Williamſtadt, where he was taken for a Spy, and put into a cloſe Impriſonment for Three or Four Days.

But ſome Scotch Gentlemen, who had been in Company with Mr. Campbell at Mr. Cloy⯑ſterman's a Painter in Covent-garden, made their Application to the Magiſtrate and got him releaſs'd: He knew his Friends the Of⯑ficers, that carried him over, were gone for⯑ward to the Camp, and that there was no Hope of finding them at Rotterdam, if he ſhould go thither, and ſo he reſolv'd ſince he had had ſo many Days Puniſhment in Wil⯑liamſtadt, to have Three or Four Days Plea⯑ſure there too by way of Amends, before he would ſet out on his Journey after his Friends. But on the Third Night he got very much in Drink; and as he went very boiſterouſly and diſorderly along, a Sentry challeng'd him; and the want of the Senſe of Hearing had like to have occaſion'd the Loſs of his Life. The Sentry fir'd at him and narrowly miſs'd him; He was taken Priſoner, not without ſome Re⯑ſiſtance, which was ſo far Innocent, as that he knew not any reaſon, why he ſhould be feized: but very troubleſome and unwarranta⯑ble [221] in ſo orderly a Town; ſo the Governor's Secretary, after the matter was examined in⯑to, judging it better for the unhappy Gentle⯑man's future Safety, advis'd him to return home to his own Country, and accordingly beſpoke him a Place in a Dutch Ship called Yowfrow Catherine, for his Paſſage to England.

Duncan Campbell had taken up this Hu⯑mour of rambling firſt, of his own accord, and the Troubles which he had run himſelf into by it, we may reaſonably ſuppoſe, had pretty well cur'd him of that extravagant Itch; and there is little doubt to be made, but that he rejoyc'd very heartily, when he was got on Board the Ship to return to En⯑gland; and that, in his new Reſolutions, he had reconciled himſelf to the Proſecution of his former Profeſſion, and intended to ſet up for a Predictor again aſſoon as he could arrive at London. But now Fortune had not a Mind to let him go off ſo; he had had his own Fancy for rambling, and now ſhe was reſolv'd to have hers, and to give him his bellyful of Caprice. Accordingly when the Dutch Ship called Yowfrow Catherine, was making the beſt of her Road for London, and each Perſon in the Veſſel was making merry, fill'd with the Hopes of a quick and proſperous Paſſage; a French Privateer appeared in ſight, crouding all the Sails ſhe could, and bearing towards them with all haſte and diligence. The Pri⯑vateer was double-mann'd, and carry'd Thir⯑ty [222] Guns: The Dutch Veſſel was defenceleſs in compariſon; and the People on Board had ſcarce time to think, and to deplore that they ſhould be made a Prey of, before they actu⯑ally were ſo, and had Reaſon enough given them for their Sorrow. All the Paſſengers, to a ſingle Man, were ſtripp'd, and had French Sea-mens Jackets in exchange for their Cloaths. Duncan Campbell had now a Taſte given him of the Fate of War, as well as of the Humour of travelling, and wiſh'd himſelf again, I warrant him, among his greateſt Croud of Conſulters, as tireſome as he thought Buſineſs to be, inſtead of being in the Middle of a Crew of Sea-Savages. The Town, where the Dumb-priſoner was at laſt confin'd, was Denain. There happened to be ſome Engliſh Fryers there, who were told by the others, who he was, and to them he apply'd himſelf in writing, and receiv'd from them a great deal of civil Treatment. But a certain Man of the Order of Recollects, happening to ſee him there, who had known him in England, and what Profeſſion he followed, cauſed him to be called to Queſtion as a Man that made uſe of ill means to tell Fortunes. When he was queſtion'd by a whole Society of theſe religious Men, he made them ſuch pertinent and ſatisfactory Anſwers in writing, that he convinced them he had done nothing for which he deſerv'd their Reprimand; and they unanimouſly acquitted him. The Heads of [233] his Defence, as I have been informed, were theſe.

Firſt, He alledg'd that the Second Sight was in-born and in-bred in ſome Men; and that every Country had had Examples of it more or leſs; but that the Country of Scotland, in which he was educated from an Infant, a⯑bounded the moſt of any with thoſe ſort of People: And from thence he ſaid he thought he might very naturally draw this Conclu⯑ſion, that a Faculty that was in-born and in⯑bred to Men, and grown almoſt a national Faculty among a People, who were remark⯑ably Honeſt, Upright and well-meaning Peo⯑ple, could not, without ſome Impiety, be im⯑puted to the Poſſeſſors of it as a Sin; and when one of the Fathers rejoin'd, that it was remark'd by ſeveral Writers, of the Second Sight, that it muſt be therefore Sinful, be⯑cauſe it remain'd no longer among the People when the Doctrines of Chriſtianity were ful⯑ly propagated, and the Light of the Goſpel increaſed among them; and that afterwards it affected none but Perſons of vicious Lives and an ill Character. To this Objection Mr. Campbell reply'd, that he knew moſt (even ingenious) Writers had made that Remark concerning the Second Sight, but beg'd leave to be excuſed, if he ventured to declare, that it was no better than a vulgar and common Error; and the Reaſons were theſe, which he alledg'd in his own behalf, and to confirm his [224] Aſſertion, he told them Men of undoubted Probity, Virtue and Learning, both of their own Religion, (viz. the Roman Catholick) and alſo of the Reform'd Religion, and in ſeve⯑ral Nations had been affected, and continued all their Lives to be affected, with this Second ſighted Power, and that there could be there⯑fore no room to fix upon it the odious Cha⯑racter of being a ſinful and vicious (not to ſay that ſome call'd it ſtill worſe, a diabolical) Talent. He ſaid he would content himſelf with making but two Inſtances, becauſe he believ'd thoſe Two would be enough to give Content to them, his Judges too, in that Caſe. In his firſt Inſtance he told them that they might find ſomewhat relating to this in Nicolaus Hemingius, who in his Tracts de Su⯑perſtitionibus Magicis, printed at Copenhagen, Anno 1575, informs the World; that Petrus Palladius, a Biſhop of Seelandt, and Profeſſor of Divinity at Copenhagen, could, from a part of his Body affected, foretel from what part of the Heavens Tempeſts would come, and was ſeldom deceiv'd. One of the Father's immediately ask'd him if he underſtood La⯑tin?—To this Duncan Campbell reply'd no. Oh! Said the Fryer then, I don't remember that Book was ever tranſlated into Engliſh that you mention:—But rejoin'd Duncan Campbell, the Paſſage I mention'd to you, I have read in an Engliſh Book, and Word for Word, according to the beſt of my Memory, [225] as I have written it down to you.—In what Engliſh Book ſaid the Fryer?—I don't re⯑member the Name of the Book, Duncan Camp⯑bell anſwer'd, but very well remember the Paſſages, and that it was in a Book of Au⯑thority, and which bore a Credit and good Re⯑pute in the World; and you being Scholars, may, if you pleaſe, have recourſe to the learn⯑ed Original, and I doubt not but you'll find, what I ſay, to be a Truth.—For the Second Inſtance, he told them; that, in Spain, there are thoſe they call Saludadores, that have this kind of Gift. There was (continued he in Writing) one of your own Religion, vene⯑rable Fathers, and of a religious Order, nay a Fryer too, that had this Gift: He was a noted Dominican, ſaid he, and though I for⯑get his Name, you may by writing a Letter to England learn his Name. He was a devout Portugueſe belonging to Queen Catherine Dow⯑ager's Chappel; and had the Second Sight to a great degree, and was famous and eminent for it. They then ask'd him what was the full Power he had to do by the Second Sight. He anſwer'd, that as they had intimated, that they had peruſed ſome of the skilful Wri⯑ters concerning the Second Sight, he did not doubt but they had found (as well as he could tell them) that as to the Extent of Peoples Knowledge in that ſecret way, it reach'd both preſent, paſt, and future Events. They fore⯑ſee Murders, Drownings, Weddings, Burials, [226] Combats, Manſlaughters, &c. of all which there are many Inſtances to be given. They commonly foreſee ſad Events a little while before they happen; for Inſtance, if a Man's fatal End be Hanging, they'll ſee a Gibbet, or Rope about his Neck; if Beheading, they'll ſee a Man without a Head; if Drowning, they'll ſee Water up to his Throat; if Stab⯑bing, they'll ſee a Dagger in his Breaſt; if un⯑expected Death in his Bed, they'll ſee a wind⯑ing Sheet about his Head: They foretel not only Marriages, but of good Children, what kind of Life Men ſhall lead, and in what Con⯑dition they ſhall die, alſo Riches, Honours, Preferments, Peace, Plenty, and good Wea⯑ther: It's likewiſe uſual with Perſons, that have loſt any Thing, to go to ſome of theſe Men, by whom they are directed, how, with what Perſons, and in what Place, they ſhall find their Goods. It is alſo to be noted, that theſe Gifts bear a Latitude, ſo that ſome have it in a far more eminent Degree than others; and what I have here written down to you, you need not take as a Truth from me, but as it concern'd me ſo nearly, I remember the Paſ⯑ſage by heart, and you will find it very near Word for Word, in Dr. Beaumont's Book of familiar Spirits. Ay ſaid the Fryers, but you have a Genius too that attends you as we are inform'd. So, reply'd Duncan Campbell, have all Perſons, that have the Second Sight in any eminent Degree; and to prove this I will [227] bring no leſs a Witneſs than King James, who, in his Demonology, Book the Third and Chap⯑ter the Second, mentions alſo a Spirit call'd Brownie, that was wont formerly to haunt divers Houſes, without doing any Evil; but doing, as it were, neceſſary turns up and down the Houſe; he appear'd like a rough Man, nay, ſome believ'd, that their Houſe was all the Sonſier, as they call'd it, that is, the more lucky, or fortunate, that ſuch Spirits reſorted there. With theſe replies the Fryers began to own they were very well ſatisfy'd, and ac⯑quieſe'd in the Account he had given of him⯑ſelf, as a very good, true, and honeſt Account: But they told him they had ſtill a further Ac⯑cuſation againſt him, and that was that he practis'd Magick Arts, and that he us'd, as they had been inform'd, unlawful Incanta⯑tions. To this he made Anſwer, that there were two Kinds of Magick, of which, he knew, they, that were Men of learning, could not be ignorant. The Art Magick, which is Wicked and Impious, continued he, is that which is profeſs'd, and has been profeſs'd at all Times in the World, by Witches, Magi⯑cians, Diviners, Inchanters, and ſuch like no⯑torious Profligates, who by having an unna⯑tural Commerce with the Devil, do many ſtrange, prodigious, and preternatural Acts a⯑bove and beyond all humane Wiſdom; and all the Arguments I ever did or ever will de⯑duce (continued he) from that black Art, is a [228] good and a ſhining Argument: It is this, O Fathers, I draw a Reaſon from theſe prodi⯑gious Practices of Wizards, Magicians, In⯑chanters, &c. and from all the Heathen Ido⯑latry and Superſtition, to prove, that there is a Deity; for from theſe Acts of theirs, be⯑ing preternatural and above humane Wiſdom, we may conſequently infer that they proceed from a ſupernatural and immaterial Cauſe, ſuch as Demons are. And this is all the Know⯑ledge I ever did or ever will draw from that black helliſh Art. But (Fathers!) there is another Kind of Art Magick call'd natural Magick, which is directly oppoſite to theirs, and the Object of which Art is to do ſpiritual Good to Mankind, as the Object of theirs is to torment them, and induce them to Evil. They afflict People with Torments, and my Art relieves them from the Torments they cauſe. The publick Profeſſion of theſe Ma⯑gical Arts has (as you know, Fathers, 'tis a common Diſtinction between black and white Magick,) been tolerated in ſome of the moſt famous Univerſities of Chriſtendom, though afterwards for a very good Reaſon in Poli⯑ticks, making it a publick Study to ſuch a Degree was very wiſely retrench'd by a Pro⯑hibition. If this therefore be a Fault in your own Opinions, hear my Accuſers, but if not you will not only excuſe but commend me.

The Fryers were extreamly well pleaſed with his Defence: But one of them had a [229] Mind to frighten him a little if he could, and ask'd him what he would ſay, if he could pro⯑duce ſome Witches lately ſeiz'd, that would ſwear he had been frequently at their unlaw⯑ful Aſſemblies, where they were making their waxen Images, and other odd miſchievous Inventions in black Magick, to torment Folks; what if I can produce ſuch Evidence againſt you, wrote the Father to him by way of ſtrengthening the Queſtion, will you not own that we have convicted you then? And when he had wrote the Note he gave it Duncan Campbell, with a Look that ſeem'd to expreſs his Warmth and Earneſtneſs in the Expoſtu⯑lation. Duncan Campbell took the Paper and read it, and far from being ſtartled, return'd this Anſwer, with a Smile continuing in his Face, while he wrote it. No ſaid he, Fathers, by your leave, they will only prove me a good Magician by that Oath, and themſelves more plainly Witches. They will prove their Love to torment good Folks, and only ſhew their Hatred to me an innocent Man, but wiſe enough to torment 'em by hindering 'em from tormenting others. The Fathers were well pleas'd with the Shrewdneſs of the An⯑ſwer: But Duncan Campbell had a mind to exert his Genius a little farther with the good Fryer, who thought likewiſe he had put him a very ſhrew'd Queſtion; ſo taking up ano⯑ther Sheet of Paper; Fathers, ſaid he, ſhall I entertain you with a Story of what paſs'd, [230] upon this Head, between two religious Fa⯑thers (as you all of you are) and a Prince of Germany, in which you will find that mine ought to be reputed a full Anſwer to the Queſtion, the laſt learned Father was pleaſed to propoſe to me? The Story is ſomewhat long, but very much to the purpoſe, and en⯑tertaining: I remember it perfectly by heart, and if you will have Patience while I am writing it, I don't doubt but that I ſhall not only ſatisfy you, but pleaſe you, and oblige you, with the Relation. The Author I found it in quotes it from Fromannus (I think the Man's Name was ſo, and I am ſure my Author calls him a very learned Man) in his Third Book of Magical In⯑cantation, and, tho' I don't underſtand the Language the Original is writ in, yet I date venture to ſay upon the Credit of my Engliſh Author, from whom I got the Story by heart, that you will find me right, when ever you ſhall be pleaſed to ſearch.

The Fryers were earneſt for the Story and expreſs'd a deſire that he would write it down for them to read, which he did in the following Words. N [...]te; that I have ſince compared Mr. Duncan Campbell's Ma⯑nuſcript with the Author's Page out of which he took it, and find it Word for Word the ſame; which ſhews how incomparable a Memory this deaf and dumb Gentleman has got, beſides his [231] other extraordinary Qualifications. The Story is this.

‘"A Prince of Germany invited two reli⯑gious Fathers, of eminent Virtue and Learn⯑ing, to a Dinner. The Prince, at Table, ſaid to one of them: Father! Think you we do right in hanging Perſons, who are accuſed by Ten or Twelve Witches, to have appear'd at their Meetings or Sab⯑baths? I ſomewhat fear we are impoſed on by the Devil, and that it is not a ſofe Way to Truth, that we walk in by theſe Accuſations; eſpecially, ſince many great and learned Men every where begin to cry out againſt it, and to charge our Conſci⯑ences with it: Tell me therefore your Opini⯑on. To whom the Fathers being ſomewhat of an eager Spirit ſaid: What ſhould make us doubtful in this Caſe? Or what ſhould touch our Conſciences, being convicted by ſo many Teſtimonies? Can we make it a Scruple, whether God will permit inno⯑cent Perſons ſhould be ſo traduc'd? There is no Cauſe for a Judge to ſtick at ſuch a Number of Accuſations, but he may pro⯑ceed with Safety. To which when the Prince had reply'd, and much had been ſaid Pro and Con on both Sides about it, and the Father ſeem'd wholly to carry the Point, the Prince at length concluded the Diſpute; ſaying, I am ſorry for you, Fa⯑ther, that in a Capital Cauſe you have con⯑demn'd [232] yourſelf, and you cannot complain if I commit you to Cuſtody: For no leſs than Fifteen Witches have depoſed, that they have ſeen you, ay, ſtart not! You your own ſelf, at their Meetings: And to ſhow you that I am not in Jeſt, I will preſently cauſe the publick Acts to be brought, for you to read them. The Father ſtood in a Maze, and with a dejected Countenance had nothing here to oppoſe but Confuſion and Silence, for all his learned Eloquence."’

As ſoon as Mr. Campbell had wrote down the Story; the Fathers peruſed it, and ſeem⯑ed mightily entertain'd with it. It put an end to all further Queſtions, and the Man, whom they had been trying for a Conjurer, they joined in deſiring, upon diſtinct Pieces of Paper, under their ſeveral Hands, to come frequently and viſit them, as being not only a harmleſs and innocent, but an extraordi⯑nary well-meaning good and diverting Com⯑panion. They treated him for ſometime af⯑terwards during his Stay, with the Friend⯑ſhip due to a Country-man, with the Civi⯑lity that is owing to a Gentleman, and with the Aſſiſiance and Support, which beloag'd to a Perſon of Merit in Diſtreſs. Money they had none themſelves it ſeems to give him, being Menditants, by their own Proſeſſion; but they had Intereſt enough to get him quite free from being Priſoner; he participated of their Elemoſinary Table, had a Cell allow'd him [233] among them in what they call their Dormi⯑tory; he had an odd Coat and a pair of Trow⯑zers made out of ſome of their brown coarſe Habits, by the poor unfaſhionable Taylor or Botcher belonging to the Convent, and at laſt they found means of recommending him to a Maſter of a French Veſſel, that was ready to ſet Sail, to give him a caſt over the Channel to England; and to provide him with the Ne⯑ceſſaries of Life, till he got to the Port. This French Veſſel was luckier than the Dutch one had been before to our dumb Gentleman, it had a quick and proſperous Paſſage, and ar⯑riv'd at Portſmouth; and as ſoon as he landed there, he having experienc'd the Misfortunes and Caſualties, that a Man in his Condition wanting both Speech and hearing was liable to, in Places where he was an utter Stranger to every Body, reſolv'd to make no Stay but move on as faſt as he could towards London. When he came to Hampton Town, conſidering the indifferent Figure he made, in thoſe odd kind of Cloaths, which the poor Fryers had equipp'd him with, and that his long Beard and an uncomb'd Wigg added much to the Diſguiſe; he was reſolved to put on the beſt Face, he could, in thoſe aukward Circum⯑ſtances, and ſtepp'd into the firſt Barber's Shop he came at to be trimm'd and get his Wigg comb'd and powder'd. This proved a very lucky Thought to him; for as ſoon as he ſtepp'd into the firſt Barber's Shop, who [234] ſhould prove to be the Maſter of it, but one Tobit Yeats, who had ſerved him in the ſame Capacity at London, and was but newly ſet up in the Trade of a Barber-Surgeon at Hamp⯑ton Town, and followed likewiſe the Profeſ⯑ſion of School-maſter. This Tobit Yeates had ſhaved him quite, before he knew him in that Diſguiſe; and Mr. Campbell, though he knew him preſently, had a mind to try if he ſhould be known himſelf firſt: At length the Barber finding him to be a dumb Man by his ordering every thing with Motions of the Hand, and Geſtures of the Body, look'd at him very earneſtly, remember'd him, and in a great Surprize, called for Pen, Ink and Pa⯑per, and begg'd to know how he came to be in that Diſguiſe; whether he was under any Misfortune, and Apprehenſion of being diſ⯑cover'd, that made him go in ſo poor and ſo clowniſh a Habit, and tender'd him any Ser⯑vices, as far as his little Capacity would reach, and deſir'd him to be free, and command him; if he was able to aſſiſt him in any thing. Theſe were the moſt comfortable Words, that Duncan Campbell had read a great while. He took the Pen and Paper in his turn; re⯑lated to him his whole Story, gave the poor Barber thanks for his good natured Offer, and ſaid he would make ſo much uſe of it, as to be indebted to him for ſo much Money as would pay the Stage Coach, and bear him in his travelling Expences up to London, from [235] whence he would ſpeedily return the Favour with Intereſt. The poor honeſt Fellow, out of Gratitude to a Maſter, whoſe Liberality he had formerly experienc'd, immediately furniſh'd Mr. Duncan Campbell with that little Supply, expreſſing the Gladneſs of his Heart that it lay in his Power; and the Stage Coach being to ſet out within but a few Hours, he ran inſtantly to the Inn to ſee if he could get him a Place. By good luck there was Room, and but juſt Room for one more, which pleas'd Duncan Campbell mightily when he was ac⯑quainted with it by his true and truſty Ser⯑vant the Barber; for he was as impatient to ſee London again, it ſeems, as he had been before to quit it. Well, he had his Wiſh; and when he came to London, he had one Wiſh more for Fortune to beſtow upon him, which appear'd to begin to grow kind again, after her fickle Fit of Cruelty was over; and this Wiſh was, that he might find his former Lodgings empty, and live in the ſame Houſe, as he did, when he follow'd his Proſeſſion. This too ſucceeded according to his Deſire, and he was happily fix'd once more to his Heart's Content in his old Reſidence, with the ſame People of the Houſe round about him, who bore him all that Reſpect and Af⯑fection (and ſhew'd all that Readineſs and Willingneſs to ſerve him on every Occaſion and at every turn) which could be expected from Perſons, that let Lodgings in Town to [236] a Gentleman, whom they eſteem'd the beſt Tenant they ever had in their Lives or ever could have.

Immediately the Tidings of the dumb Gen⯑tleman's being return'd home from beyond Sea, ſpread throughout all the Neighbour⯑hood, and it was nois'd about from one Nigh⯑bourhood to another, till it went through all Ranks and Conditions, and was known as well in a Day or Two's Time, all the Town over, as if he had been ſome great Man be⯑longing to the State, and his Arrival had been notified to the Publick in the Gazette, as a Perſon of the laſt Importance. And ſuch a Perſon he appear'd indeed to be taken for, e⯑ſpecially among the fair Sex, who throng'd to his Doors, Croud after Croud, to conſult with him, about their future Occurrences in Life.

Theſe curious Tribes of People, were as various in their Perſons, Sex, Age, Quality, Profeſſion, Art, Trade, as they were in the Curioſity of their Minds, and the Queſtions they had intended to propound to this dumb Predictor of ſtrange Events, that lay yet as Embrio's in the Womb of Time, and were not to come, ſome of them, to a Maturity for Birth, for very many Years after, juſt as por⯑celain Clay is ſtored up in the Earth by good Artificers, which their Heirs make China of half a Century, and ſometimes more than an Age, afterwards.

[237] Theſe Shoals of Cuſtomers, who were to fee him well for his Advice as we may ſup⯑poſe, now he ſtood in need of raiſing a freſh Stock, were unqueſtionably, as welcome and acceptable to him, as they appeared too troubleſome to him before, when he was in a State of more Wealth and Plenty.

Fortune, that does nothing moderately, ſeem'd now reſolv'd, as ſhe had been ex⯑treamly cruel before, to be extreamly kind to him. He had nothing to do from early in the Morning till late at Night, but to read Queſtions, and reſolve them as faſt, as much frequented Doctors write their Pre⯑ſcriptions and Recipe's, and like them al⯑ſo to receive Fees as faſt. Fortune was in⯑deed mightily indulgent to the Wants ſhe had ſo ſuddenly reduc'd him to, and reliev'd him as ſuddenly by theſe Knots of Curioſo's, who brought him a Glut of Money. But one ſingle fair Lady, that was one of his very firſt Conſulters after his Return, and who had receiv'd ſatisfactory Anſwers from him in o⯑ther Points, before he went abroad; prov'd (ſo good Fortune would have it) worth all the reſt of his Cuſtomers together, as nume⯑rous as they were, and as I have accordingly repreſented them.

This Lady was the Relict or Widow of a Gentleman of a good Eſtate, and of a very good Family, whoſe Name was Digby, and a handſome Jointure ſhe had out of the E⯑ſtate. This Lady, it ſeems, having been with [238] him in former Days, and ſeen him in a more ſhining Way of Life, (for he had taken a Humour to appear before all his Company in that coarſe odd Dreſs, made out of the Fryer's Habit, and would not be perſwaded by the People of the Houſe to put on a Nightgown, till he could provide himſelf with a new Suit) was ſo curious, among other Queſtions, as to ask him, whether he had met with any Misfortunes, and how he came to be in ſo ſlovenly and wretched a Habit? Here Mr. Campbell related the whole Story of his Tra⯑vels to her, and the Croſſes and Diſappoint⯑ments he had met with abroad. The Tears, he obſerv'd, would ſtart every now and then into her Eyes, when ſhe came to any doleful Paſſage, and ſhe appear'd to have a mighty compaſſionate kind of feeling, when ſhe read of any Hardſhip more than ordinarily me⯑lancholy, that had befallen him. Mr. Camp⯑bell, it is certain, had then a very good Pre⯑ſence, and was a handſome and portly young Man; and, as a great many young Gentle⯑men derive the ſeeming Agreeableneſs of their Perſons from the Taylor and Perruque-ma⯑ker, the Shoe-maker and Hoſier, ſo Mr. Camp⯑bell's Perſon on the other Hand gave a good Air and a good Look to the aukward Garb he had on; and I believe, it was from ſeeing him in this odd Trim (as they call it,) the Ladies firſt took up the humour of calling him the handſome Sloven: Add to this that [239] he look'd his Misfortune in the Face with a jolly Countenance, and ſmiled even while he was penning the Relation of his Calamities: All which are certainly Circumſtances that firſt ſooth a generous Mind into a State of Compaſſion, and afterwards heighten it in the Breaſt wherein it is conceiv'd. Hence it came that this pretty and good natur'd Widow, Mrs. Digby, when ſhe had expreſs'd her Com⯑miſeration of him by her Looks, began to take the Pen and expreſs it in very tender Terms: Neither did ſhe think that Expreſſion in Words a ſufficient Teſtimony of the Com⯑paſſion ſhe bore to him; the Generoſity of her Mind did lead her to expreſs it in a more ſubſtantial manner ſtill, and that was to ſhew it plainly by a very benevolous Action. She laid a Purſe of Twenty Guineas before the Table, and at the ſame time ſmiling, point⯑ed to the Table, as ſignifying her deſire that he would accept it, and running to the Door drop'd a Curteſy, and skuttled away; and by the ſame civil Act as ſhe oblig'd him, ſhe put it out of his Power to refuſe being ſo ob⯑liged; ſo that, though the Preſent was very handſome, the manner of giving it was ſtill handſomer. If being a handſome young Man of Merit in Diſtreſs, and bearing his Misfor⯑tunes with an equal Mind, are powerful Mo⯑tives to excite Compaſſion in the Mind of a generous Lady, ſo the Generoſity of a young agreeable Widow expreſs'd in ſo kind and ſo [240] benevolous a Way, to a young Gentleman, when he had been taſting nothing but the bitter Draughts of Fortune before, muſt ſtir up an Affection in a Mind that had any ſenſe of Gratitude: And truly juſt ſuch was the Effect that this Lady's Civility had upon Mr. Duncan Campbell. He conceiv'd, from that Moment, a very great Affection for her; and reſolv'd to try whether he could gain her, which he had no ſmall Grounds to hope, from the Eſteem, which ſhe appear'd to bear to⯑wards him already. I remember Mr. Dry⯑den makes a very beautiful Obſervation of the near Alliance there is between the Two Paſſions of Pity and Love in a Woman's Breaſt, in one of his Plays. His Words are theſe: For Pity ſtill fore-runs approaching Love As Light'ning does the Thunder. Mr. Bruyere a moſt ingenious Member of the French A⯑cademy has made another Remark, which comes home to our preſent purpoſe. He ſays, That many Women love their Money better than their Friends; but yet value their Lovers more than their Money. According to the Two Re⯑flections of theſe fine Writers upon the Tem⯑pers of the Fair, Mr. Campbell had hopes e⯑nough to ground his Courtſhip upon; and it appeared ſo in the End by his proving Suc⯑ceſsful: She from being a very liberal and friendly Client, became at laſt a moſt Affe⯑ctionate Wife. He then began to be a Houſe⯑keeper, and accordingly took a little neat one, [241] and very commodious for his Profeſſion, in Monmouth Court. Here I muſt take leave to make this Obſervation; That, if Mr. Campbell inherited the Talents of his ſecond⯑ſighted Mother, he ſeem'd likewiſe to be an Heir to his Father Mr. Archibald Campbell, both in his ſtrange and accidental Sufferings by Sea, and likewiſe in his being reliev'd from them, after as accidental and ſtrange a man⯑ner, by an unexpected Marriage, juſt like his Father's. And here we return again to take a new Survey of him in the courſe of his publick Practice as a Predictor. The Ac⯑counts I ſhall give of his Actions here, will be very various in their Nature from any I have yet preſented to the Reader; they are more myſterious in themſelves, and yet I ſhall en⯑deavour to make the manner of his operating in this kind as plain as (I think) I have the foregoing ones, and then I flatter my ſelf they muſt afford a freſh Entertainment for every Reader, that has any curioſity and a good taſte for things of ſo extraordi⯑nary a Kind. For what I have all along pro⯑pounded to myſelf from the beginning, and in the progreſs to the end of this Hiſtory, is, to interweave entertaining and ſurpriſing Narratives of what Mr. Campbell has done, with curious and inſtructive Enquiries into the nature of thoſe Actions, for which he has rendred himſelf ſo ſingularly famous. It was not therefore ſuitable to my purpoſe, to clog [242] the Reader with numerous Adventures al⯑moſt all of the ſame Kind, but out of a vaſt number of them to ſingle ſome few of thoſe that were moſt remarkable, and that were Myſteries, but Myſteries of very different ſorts. I leave that Method of ſwelling diſtorted and commented Trifles into Volumes, to the writers of Fable and Romance; if I was to tell his Adventures with regard, for Exam⯑ple, to Women that came to conſult him, I might perhaps have not only written the Stories of eleven thouſand Virgins that died Maids, but have had Relations to give of as many marry'd Women and Widows, and the Work would have been endleſs. All that I ſhall do therefore is to pick out one parti⯑cular each of a different Kind, that there may be variety in the Entertainment. Upon Ap⯑plication to this Dumb Man, one is told in the middle of her Health, that ſhe ſhall die at ſuch a time; another, that ſhe ſhall ſicken, and upon the moment of her recovery, have a Suiter and a Husband; a Third, who is a celebrated Beauty with a multitude of Ad⯑mirers round about her, that ſhe ſhall never become a Wife; a Fourth that is marry'd, when ſhe ſhall get rid of an uneaſy Husband; a Fifth that hath loſt her Goods, who ſtole them, where and when they ſhall be reſto⯑red; a Sixth, that is a Merchant, when he ſhall be Undone, and how and when he ſhall recover his Loſſes, and be as great on [243] the Exchange as ever; a ſeventh, that is a Gameſter, which will be his winning and which his loſing Hour; an eighth, how he ſhall be involv'd in a Law-ſuit, and whether the Suit will have an adverſe or a proſperous Iſſue; a ninth, that is a Woman, with choice of Lovers, which ſhe ſhall be moſt happy with for Life; and ſo on to many others, where every Prediction is perfectly new and ſurprizing, and differs from the o⯑ther in almoſt every Circumſtance. When a Man has ſo extenſive a Genius as this at foretelling the future Occurrences of Life, one Narrative of a ſort is enough in Con⯑ſcience to preſent the Reader with, and ſe⯑veral of each kind would not methinks be entertaining, but tireſome; for he that can do one thing in theſe kinds by the power of Prediction, can do ten thouſand; and thoſe who are obſtinate in extenuating his Talents, and calling his Capacity in queſtion, and that will not be convinc'd by one In⯑ſtance of his Judgment, would not own the conviction if ten thouſand Inſtances were given them. The beſt Paſſages I can recom⯑mend to their Peruſal, are thoſe, where Per⯑ſons, who came purpoſely to banter him under the colour of conſulting him, and cover'd over their ſly Intentions with bor⯑row'd Diſguiſes, and came in Maſquerades, found all the Jeſt turn'd upon themſelves in the End, which they meant to our famous [244] Predictor, and had the diſcouragement of ſeeing their moſt conceal'd and deepeſt laid Plots diſcovered, and all their moſt witty Fetches and wily Contrivances defeated, till they were compelled univerſally to acknow⯑ledge, that endeavouring to impoſe upon the Judgment of our Seer, by any hidden Artifice and Cunning whatſoever, was effec⯑tually impoſing upon their own. His unu⯑ſual Talent in this kind was ſo openly known, and ſo generally confeſs'd, that his Know⯑ledge was celebrated in ſome of the moſt witty Weekly Papers that ever appear'd in Publick. Iſaac Bickerſtaff, who diverted all the Beaumond for a long ſpace of time with his Lucubrations, takes occaſion in ſeveral of his Papers, to applaud the Speculations of this dumb Gentleman in an admirable vein of Pleaſantry and Humour, peculiar to the Writer, and to the Subject he writ upon. And when that bright Author, who join'd the uttermoſt Facetiouſneſs with the moſt ſolid Improvements of Morality and Learn⯑ing in his Works, laid aſide the Title of a Tatler, and aſſumed the Name of a Specta⯑tor and Cenſor of Men's Actions, he ſtill every now and then thought our Duncan Campbell a Subject worthy enough to em⯑ploy his farther Conſiderations upon. I muſt take notice of one Letter ſent concerning him to the Spectator, in the Year, 1712, which was at a time when a Lady wanted [245] him, after he had remov'd from Monmouth Street to Drury Lane.

But now let us come to thoſe Paſſages of his Life the moſt ſurprizing of all, during the time that he enjoy'd this Reputation, and when he prov'd that he deſerved the Fame he enjoy'd. Let us take a Survey of him while he is wonderfully curing Perſons la⯑bouring under the misfortune of Witchcraft, of which the following Story will be an emi⯑ment Inſtance, and likewiſe clear up how he came by his Reputation in Eſſex, as menti⯑oned in the above-mentioned Letter to the Spectator.

In the Year 1709, Suſanna Johnſon, Daughter to one Captain Johnſon, who liv'd at a place adjacent to Rumford in Eſſex, going one Morning to that Town to buy Butter at the Market, was met there by an old miſerable-looking Woman, juſt as ſhe had taken ſome of her Change of the Mar⯑ketwoman [248] in Copper, and this old Woman rather demanded than begg'd the Gentle⯑woman to give her a Penny. Mrs. Johnſon reputing her to be one of thoſe hateful People that are call'd ſturdy Beggars, refuſed it her, as thinking it to be no act of Charity, and that it would be rather gratifying and indul⯑ging her Impudence, than ſupplying or ſa⯑tisfying her Indigence. Upon the refuſal, the old Hag with a Face more wrinkl'd ſtill, if poſſible, by Anger, than it was by Age, took upon her to ſtorm at young Mrs. John⯑ſon very loudly, and to threaten and me⯑nace her: But when ſhe found her common Threats and Menaces were of no avail, ſhe ſwore ſhe would be reveng'd of the young Creature in ſo ſignal a manner, that ſhe ſhould repent the Denial of that Penny from her Heart before ſhe got home, and that it ſhould coſt her many Pounds to get rid of the Conſequences of that Denial and her Anger. The poor innocent Girl deſpiſed theſe laſt words likewiſe, and getting up on Horſeback, return'd Homewards; But juſt as ſhe got about half way her Horſe ſtop'd, and no means that ſhe could uſe would make him advance one ſingle ſtep; but ſhe ſtaid a while to ſee if that would humour him to go on. At laſt the Beaſt began to grow unruly, and ſnorted and trembled as if he had ſeen or ſmelt ſomething that frighted him, and ſo fell a kicking deſperately till he threw [249] the Girl from the Saddle, not being able to cling to it any longer, tho' a pretty good Horſewoman of her Years; ſo much were the Horſe's Motions and Plungings more than ordinarily violent.

As Providence would have it, ſhe got not much harm by the Fall, receiving only a little Bruiſe in the right Shoulder; but ſhe was dreadfully frighted. This Fear added Wings to her Feet, and brought her home as ſpeedily of herſelf as ſhe uſually came on Horſeback. She immediately, without any other ſign of Illneſs than the pallid Colour with which Fear had diſorder'd the Com⯑plexion of her Face, alarm'd all the Family at home with the Story, took her Bed up⯑on it, complain'd of inward Rackings of the Belly, and was never at caſe unleſs ſhe lay doubled up together her Head to her Knees, and her Heels to her Rump, juſt like a Fi⯑gure of 8. She could not be a ſingle Mo⯑ment out of that Poſture without ſhrieking out with the violence of anxious Torments and racking Pains.

In this condition of Miſery, amidſt this a⯑gony of Suffering, and in this double Po⯑ſture, was the poor wretched young Gentle⯑woman brought to Town; Phyſicians were conſulted about her, but in vain; ſhe was carry'd to different Hoſpitals for aſſiſtance, but their Endeavours likewiſe prov'd ineffec⯑tual: At laſt ſhe was conducted to the Col⯑lege [250] of Phyſicians; and even the collective Wiſdom of the greateſt Sages and Adepts in the Science of Phyſick was pos'd to give her any Preſcription that would do her ſervice, and relieve her from the inexplicable Ma⯑lady ſhe labour'd under. The poor incurable Creature was one conſtant Subject of her com⯑plaining Mother's Diſcourſe in every Company ſhe came into. It hapned at laſt, and very pro⯑videntially truly, that the Mother was thus condoling the Misfortune of her Child among five or ſix Ladies, and telling them among other things, that by the moſt skilful Perſons ſhe was look'd upon to be bewitch'd, and that 'twas not within the power of Phyſick to compaſs her Recovery: They all having been acquainted with our Mr. Duncan Campbell, unanimouſly adviſed her to carry her Daugh⯑ter to his Houſe and conſult with him a⯑bout her. The Mother was overjoy'd at theſe tidings, and purpoſed to let no time ſlip where her Child's Health was ſo deeply con⯑cerned. She got the Ladies to go with her and her Child, to be Eye-witneſſes of ſo ex⯑traordinary a piece of Practice, and ſo emi⯑nent a trial of Skill.

As ſoon as this diſmal Object was brought into his Room, Mr. Duncan Campbell lifted up her Head and look'd earneſtly in her Face, and in leſs than a Minute's time ſignify'd to the Company, that ſhe was not only be⯑witch'd, but in as dreadful a Condition al⯑moſt [251] as the Man that had a Legion of Fiends within him.

At the reading of theſe words the unhap⯑py Creature rais'd up her Head, turn'd her Eyes upwards, and a Smile (a thing ſhe had been a ſtranger to for many Months) overſpread her whole Face, and ſuch a kind of Colour as is the fluſhing of Joy and Gladneſs, and with an innocent tone of Voice ſhe ſaid, ſhe now had a firm belief ſhe ſhould ſhortly be deliver'd. The Mother and the reſt of the Company were all in Tears, but Mr. Camp⯑bell wrote to them that they ſhould be of good Heart, be eaſy and quiet for a few Mo⯑ments, and they ſhould be convinc'd that it was Witchcraft, but happily convinc'd by ſee⯑ing her ſo ſuddenly well again. This brought the Company into pretty good Temper; and a little after, Mr. Campbell deſir'd ſhe might be led up Stairs into his Chamber and left there alone with him for a little while; this occaſioned ſome ſmall Female Specula⯑tion, and as much Mirth as their late Sor⯑row, alleviated with the hopes of her Cure, would permit.

This you may be ſure was but a ſnatch of Mirth, juſt as the nature of the thing would allow of; and all ſorts of Waggery being laid inſtantly aſide, and remov'd almoſt as ſoon as conceiv'd, the poor young thing was carry'd in that double Poſture up Stairs. She had not been much above half an Hour there, [252] when by the help only of Mr. Campbell's Arm ſhe was led down Stairs, and deſcended into that Room full of Company as a Miracle appearing in a Machine from above; ſhe was led backward and forward in the Room, while all gaz'd at her for a while with joyful Aſto⯑niſhment, for no Arrow was ever more ſtrait than ſhe. Mr. Campbell then prevail'd with her to drink a glaſs of Wine, and immedi⯑ately after ſhe evacuated Wind, which ſhe had not done for ſome Months before, and found herſelf ſtill more amended and eaſy: And then the Mother making Mr. Campbell ſome ſmall Acknowledgment at that time, with the promiſe of more, and her Daugh⯑ter giving Thanks, and all the Company com⯑mending his Skill, took their Leaves and de⯑parted with great demonſtrations of Joy. I ſhall here, to cut the Story ſhort, ſignify, that ſhe came frequently afterwards to make her Teſtimonials of Gratitude to him, and con⯑tinues to enjoy her Health to this very Day at Greenwich, where ſhe now lives, and will at any time, if call'd upon, make Oath of the Truth of this little Hiſtory, as ſhe told me herſelf with her own Mouth.

The next thing therefore it behoves me to do in this Chapter is, to give ſome ſatisfactory account of Magick, by which ſuch ſeeming myſterious Cures and Operations are brought about.

[253] This Task I would perform in the moſt perſpicuous and moſt convincing manner I can; for Magick I know is held to be a very hard and difficult Study by thoſe Learned, and univerſally unlawful and diabolical by thoſe Unlearned, who believe there is ſuch a Science attainable by Human Genius. On the other hand, by ſome Learned Men, who believe there is no ſuch Science, it is repre⯑ſented as an inconſiſtent Syſtem of Superſti⯑tions and Chimera's; and again laugh'd at as ſuch by the Unlearned, who are of an incre⯑dulous Temper: What I would therefore undertake to do in this place, is to ſhew the Learned Men, who believe there is ſuch an Art, that the attainment to a tolerable Know⯑ledge of the manner how magical Practices may be brought about, is no ſuch difficult Matter as they have repreſented it to them⯑ſelves; and by doing this, I ſhall make the Syſtem of it ſo plain, that while the Learn⯑ed approve of it, the Unlearned too, who are not of an unbelieving Kind, may under⯑ſtand clearly what I ſay; and the Learned Men who have rejected this Science as chi⯑merical, may be clearly convinced it is real; and then there is nothing left but obſtinate unbelieving Ignorance, which I ſhall not here pretend by Arguments to lead into Senſe, but leave it to the work of Time. In fine, I will endeavour to induce Men of Senſe to ſay, that, what has been accounted myſteri⯑ous, [254] is deliver'd in a plain, eaſy, and convin⯑cing manner, and to own that they approve, while Men of the lower Claſs of Under⯑ſtanding, ſhall confeſs and acknowledge that they themſelves underſtand it, and that what has hitherto been repreſented as arduous and difficult to a great Genius, is adapted and ren⯑der'd not only clear, but familiar to Perſons of midling Talents. In this Work therefore I ſhall follow the ſtricteſt Order I can (which of all things render a Diſcourſe upon any Subject the moſt clear;) and that it may be plain to the commoneſt Capacity, I will firſt ſet down what Order I intend to follow.

Firſt, I will ſpeak of Magick in general.

Secondly, Of Magick under its ſeveral Di⯑viſions and Subdiviſions.

Thirdly, Concerning the Object of Art, as it is Good or Bad.

Fourthly, Of the Perſons exerciſing that Art in either Capacity of Good or Bad, and by what means they become capacitated to exerciſe it.

In the Fifth place, I ſhall come to the ſeveral Objections againſt the Art of Magick, and the Refutation of thoſe Objections.

The firſt Objection ſhall be againſt the Ex⯑iſtence of good and bad Spirits. The Refu⯑tation of which will conſiſt in my proving the Exiſtences of Spirits both Good and Bad, by Reaſon, and by Experience.

[255] The ſecond Objection that will be brought, is to contain an Allegation that there are no ſuch Perſons as Witches now, and an Ar⯑gument to ſupport that Allegation, drawn from the Incapacity and Impoſſibility of any thing's making (while itſelf is incarnate) a Contract with a Spirit. This Objection will be anſwer'd by proving the reality of Wit⯑ches from almoſt Univerſal Experience, and by explaining rationally the manner how the Devils hold Commerce with Witches; which Explication is back'd and authoriz'd by the Opinion of the moſt Eminent Divines and the moſt Learned Phyſicians.

From hence, Sixthly and laſtly, We ſhall conclude on the ſide of the good Magick, that as there are Witches on the one hand that may afflict and torment Perſons with Daemons, ſo on the other hand there are lawful and good Magicians that may caſt out Daemons from People that are poſſeſs'd with them.

And Firſt as to Magick in general; Ma⯑gick conſiſts in the Spirit by Faith, for Faith is that MAGNET of the Magicians by which they draw Spirits to them, and by which Spirits they do great things, that ap⯑pear like Miracles.

Secondly, Magick is divided into three ſorts, viz. Divine, Natural, and Diabolical. And Natural Magick is again ſub-divided in⯑to two kinds, Simple and Compound: And Natural Compound Magick is again likewiſe [256] divided into two Kinds, viz. Natural-di⯑vine Magick, and Natural-diabolical Magick. Now, to give the Reader a clear, and a diſtinct Notion of each ſeveral Species of Magick here mentioned, I ſet down the following De⯑finitions.—Divine Magick is a Celeſtial Sci⯑ence, in which all Operations, that are won⯑derfully brought about, are performed by the Spirit of God.—Natural Magick is a Science, in which all the myſterious Acts that are wrought, are compaſs'd by Natural Spirits.—But as this Natural Magick may be exerciſed about things either in a manner indifferent in themſelves, or mere morally Good, and then it is mere natural Magick; or elſe about things Theologically good, and tranſcendently bad; and then it is not mere⯑ly and Natural Magick, but Mix'd and Com⯑pound. If Natural Magick be exerciſed a⯑bout the moſt holy Operations, it is then mix'd with the Divine, and may then be cal⯑led, not improperly, Natural-divine Magick. But if Natural Magick troubles itſelf about compaſſing the wickedeſt Practices, then is it promiſcuous with the Demoniacal, and may not improperly be called Natural dia⯑bolical Magick.

Thirdly, The Object of this Art is doing Wonders out of the ordinary appearing courſe of Nature, which tend either to great good or bad, by the help and Mediation of Spirits good and bad.

[257] Fourthly, As to the Perſons exerciſing that Art in either way, whether good or bad, and by what Means they become capaci⯑tated to act it, the Notion of this may be eaſily deduced from the Notions of the Art itſelf, as conſidered above in its each diffe⯑rent Species; for as all Magick conſiſts in a Spirit, every Magician acts by a Spirit.

Divine Magicians that are of God are ſpoke of in the ſacred Book, and therefore I ſhall not mention the Paſſages here, but paſs them over (as ought in a Book like this) with a profound and reverential Silence, as well as the other Paſſages, which ſpeak of Natural and Daemoniacal Magicians; and in all I ſhall ſpeak of them in this Place, I ſhall only ſpeak of them with Regard to humane Rea⯑ſon and Experience, and conclude this Head with ſaying, that Natural Magicians work all Things by the Natural Spirits of the Ele⯑ments; but that Witches and Daemoniacal Magicians, as Jannes and Jambers in Aegypt were, work their magical Performances by the Spirit of Daemons, and 'tis by the Means of theſe different Spirits that theſe diffe⯑rent Magicians perform their different Ope⯑rations.

Theſe Things thus diſtinctly ſettled and ex⯑plained, 'tis now we muſt come and ground the Diſpute, between thoſe who believe there are no ſuch Things as Magicians of any Kind, [258] and thoſe who aſſert there are of all the Kinds above ſpecify'd.

Thoſe who contend there are, have re⯑courſe to Experience, and relate many well⯑witneſs'd Narratives, to prove, that there have been in all Times, and that there are ſtill Magicians of all theſe Kinds: But thoſe, who contend that there are no ſuch Perſons, will give no ear to what the others call plain Ex⯑perience; they call the Stories (let whatever Witneſſes appear to juſtify them) either fa⯑bulous Legends invented by the Authors, or elſe Tricks of intellectual Logerdemain im⯑poſed by the Actors, upon the Relators of thoſe Actions. Since therefore (they ſay) tho' the Believers in Magick bragg of Expe⯑rience never ſo much, it may be but a fal⯑lible Experience; they reaſonably deſire to know, whether theſe Gentlemen that ſtand for Magick can anſwer the Objections which they propoſe, to prove, that the Practice of Magick, according to the Syſtem laid down, is inconſiſtent with Reaſon, before they will yield their Aſſent. Let the Stories be never ſo numerous, appear neverſo credible, theſe un⯑believing Gentlemen deſire to be try'd by Rea⯑ſon, and aver till that Reaſon is given; they will not be convinc'd by the Number of Sto⯑ries, becauſe, tho' numerous, they are Stories ſtill, neither will they believe them becauſe they appear credible; becauſe ſeeming ſo is [259] not being ſo, and Appearances, tho' never ſo fair, when they contradict Reaſon, are not to be ſwallowed down with an implicit Faith as ſo many Realities. And thus far, no doubt, the Gentlemen, who are on the unbelieving Side, are very much in the right on't. The learned Gentlemen on the other hand, who are perſuaded of this mighty myſterious Pow⯑er, being lodged in the Hands of Magicians, anſwer, that they will take upon them to re⯑fute the moſt ſubtle Objections brought by the learned Unbelievers, and to reconcile the Practicability of magical Myſteries by the Ca⯑pacity of Men, who ſtudy that Art, to right Rules and Laws of Reaſoning, and to ſhew, that ſome Stories (tho' never ſo prodigi⯑ous) which are told of Magicians, demand the Belief of wiſe Men on two Accounts; becauſe as Experience backs Reaſon on the one hand, Reaſon backs Experience on the other, and ſo the Iſſue of the whole Argu⯑ment (whether there are Magicians or not) is thrown upon both Experience and Reaſon. Theſe Arguments on each ſide, I ſhall draw up fairly pro and con; for I don't pretend to be the Inventor of them my ſelf, they belong to other Authors many Years ago; be it enough for me to boaſt of, if I can draw them up in a better and cloſer Form together, than they have yet appeared in: In that I take upon my ſelf a very great Task; I erect my ſelf as it were into a kind of a Judge; I will ſum up the [260] Evidences on both ſides, and I ſhall, where⯑ever I ſee Occaſion, intimate which ſide of the Argument bears the moſt Weight with me; but when I have enforced my Opinion as far as I think needful, my Readers like a Jury are ſtill at Liberty to bring in their Ver⯑dict, juſt as they themſelves ſhall ſee fit; and this naturally leads me, where I promiſed to come to in the fifth Part of this Diſcourſe, to the ſeveral Objections againſt the Power of Art Magick, and the Refutation of thoſe Objections.