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&c. as mentioned in order, under the twenty-first aphorism; that at length, like faithful guardians, we might possess mankind of their fortunes, and release and free the understanding from its minority, upon which an amendment of the state and condition of mankind, and an enlargement of their power over nature, must necessarily ensue. For by the fall, man at once forfeited his innocency and his dominion over the creatures, though both of them are, in some measure, recoverable, even in this life; the former by religion and faith; and the latter by arts and sciences. For the world was not made absolutely rebellious by the curse, but in virtue of that denunciation, "In the sweat of thy brow thou shalt eat thy bread;" it is at length, not by disputes, or indolent magical ceremonies, but by various real labours, subdued, and brought in some degree to afford the necessaries of life."

But Bacon accepted the Great Seals, and no further progress was made in the Novum Organum. He died in the year 1626; and, according to his wish, is buried in the same grave with his mother. Near to him lies his faithful secretary; and although only a few letters of his name, scarcely legible, can now be traced, he will ever be remembered for his affectionate attachment to his master and friend. Upon the monument which he raised to Lord Bacon, who appears sitting in deep but tranquil thought, he has inscribed this epitaph :

FRANCISCUS BACON BARO DE VERULAM S: ALBANI VICmes
SEU NOTIORIBUS TITULIS

SCIENTIARUM LUMEN, FÁCUNDIÆ LEX

SIC SEDEBAT.

QUI POSTQUAM OMNIA NATURALIS SAPIENTIÆ

ET CIVILIS ARCANA EVOLVISSET

NATURÆ DECRETUM EXPLEVIT

COMPOSITA SOLVANTUR.

AN° DEO M.D.C. XXVI.

ETAT LXVI.

TANTI VIRI

MEM.

THOMAS MEAUTUS

SUPERSTITIS CULTOR

DEFUNCTI ADMIRATOR

H. P.

ART. VIII. The Memoirs of Sigr. Gaudentio di Lucca: taken from his confession and examination before the fathers of the Inquisition at Bologna, in Italy; making discovery of an unknown Country in the midst of the vast Deserts of Africa, as ancient, populous and civilized as the Chinese: with an account of their antiquity, origine, religion, customs, polity, &c. and the manner

how they got first over those vast deserts: interspersed with several most surprising and curious incidents. Copied from the original manuscript kept in St. Mark's Library at Venice: with critical notes of the learned Signor Rhedi, late Library-keeper of the said Library. To which is prefixed, a letter of the secretary of the Inquisition to the same Signor Rhedi, giving an account of the manner and causes of his being seized. Faithfully translated from the Italian, by E. T. Gent. London, 1737, 8vo. pp.

335.

The above very copious title page in some measure explains the way in which these Memoirs first came to be published. The author or publisher as he calls himself, has however thought fit in his address to the reader, and in the letter ascribed to the erudite Signor Rhedi, to give a very minute and matter of fact account of the whole affair of the seizure of Signor Gaudentio di Lucca, and the manner in which the manuscript came into his hands; and this he has done in a style of great pleasantry. The hero of this narrative had, it seems, when past the prime of life, settled as a physician at Bologna, where, being possessed of a fine presence and polite address, he gained the good opinion of persons of both sexes. Having in the course of conversation muttered strange things of an unknown nation, and dropped certain words as if he were skilled in judicial astrology, the Holy Inquisition thought him a proper subject for their tribunal. He was commanded to deliver to the Inquisitors a written history of his life, which, fortunately for us, he very readily did. A copy of this precious manuscript was sent by the secretary of the Inquisition to his intimate friend, the most grave and learned Signor Rhedi, who, out of his especial favour, allowed the discriminating publisher to take a copy of it, who, in his turn, allowed the printer to print it; and by this lucky train of circumstances it has become our lot to review it, a task which we enter upon with great satisfaction.

The work is partly a romance and partly a scheme of Patriarchal Government. It sets out by giving a particular account of the parentage and birth of Signor Gaudentio. We must content ourselves however by briefly observing that he was born at Ragusa, and was sent to the University of Paris to complete his education. At the age of nineteen, the death of his father, a merchant, in embarrassed circumstances, obliged him to leave the University. His elder brother and himself embarked the wreck saved from their father's property, in a small trading vessel for the purposes of traffic. As they were sailing towards Cyprus, they were attacked by two pirates, whom they resisted with the greatest possible heroism, but heroism was vain—every man was killed except our adventurer, who was spared for the

sake of amusing the world with his memoirs. He too had a narrow escape,-his obstinate resistance, and the fact of his having slain the brother of the victorious pirate, had nearly drawn down vengeance on his head. The extraordinary interposition of a fair Persian Lady, whose story we have not space to relate, although she again appears in these Memoirs, saves him from any other punishment than that of being sold for a slave. He is taken to Grand Cairo, and offered to a stranger merchant for sale. The stranger was richly clad, and although he did not appear more than forty years of age, he had the most serene and venerable look imaginable. He eyed Gaudentio from top to toe with a most penetrating look. And then having enquired into his qualifications, and particularly his knowledge of the arts, sciences, laws, and customs of the Christians, he paid his price, without a word, only requiring that all his books, mathematical instruments, &c.should be delivered with him. Full of sorrowful reflections for his enslaved lot, Gaudentio is conducted to the merchant's house, the magnificence of which, especially the richness of the furniture, struck him with admiration. His master received him with an engaging affability, which excited his surprize, but he was filled with still greater surprise, when that person addressed him in the following words.

"Young man, said he, by the laws of this country you are mine; I have bought you at a very high price, and would give twice as much for you, if it were to be done again: but, continued he, with a more serious air, I know no just laws in the universe, that can make a freeborn man become a slave to one of his own species. If you will voluntarily go along with us, you shall enjoy as much freedom as I do myself: you shall be exempt from all the barbarous laws of these inhuman countries, whose brutal customs are a shame to the dignity of a rational creature, and with whom we have no commerce, but to enquire after arts and sciences, which may contribute to the common benefit of our people. We are blest with the most opulent country in the world: we leave it to your choice to go along with us if you please; if you will not, I here give you your liberty, and restore to you all that remains to you of your effects, with what assistance you want, to carry you back again into your own country."

The effect of such a speech upon a young and ardent mind may be easily conceived. Gratitude and curiosity alike incited him to visit this unknown and glorious country, for such he learned it was, from the handsome youths who accompanied the merchant, and who, although attending upon him, were treated more like sons than servants. From them he collected that they were called Mezoranians or children of the Sun, and that the merchant was a governor in his own country, or as they called

him a Pophar, which, in their language, signifies "Father of his People." They usually stayed a year before they returned into their own country, and spared no cost to make their banishment, as they termed it, as easy as they could. As the time for their return was not yet arrived, the Pophar resolved to go down to Alexandria, to see if he could meet with any more European curiosities. While they were at this place, an incident happened, which is so well contrived, and so delightfully told, that we must give the whole of it in the author's own words. As they were walking about the public places, they met the Bassa of Grand Cairo.

eyes

"His wife and daughter were then both along with him : the wife was one of the grand Signor's sisters, seemingly about thirty, and a wonderful fine woman. The daughter was about sixteen, of such exquisite beauty and lovely features, as were sufficient to charm the greatest prince in the world. When he perceived them, the Pophar, who naturally abhorred the Turks, kept off, as if he were treating privately with some merchants. But I, being young and inconsiderate, stood gazing, though at a respectful distance, at the Bassa's beautiful daughter, from no other motive but mere curiosity. She had her fixed on my companions and myself at the same time, and, as I supposed, on the same account. Her dress was so magnificent, and her person so charming, that I thought her the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my life. If I could have foreseen the troubles that short interview was going to cost both the Pophar and myself, I should have chose sooner to have looked on the most hideous monster. I observed that the young lady, with a particular sort of emotion, whispered something to an elderly woman that attended her, and she did the same to a page, who immediately went to two natives of the place, whom the Pophar used to hire to carry his things: this was to enquire of them who we were. They, as appeared by the event, told them, I was a young slave lately bought by the Pophar. After a while, the Bassa with his train went away, and for my own part I thought no more of the matter. The next day, as the Pophar and we were walking in one of the publick gardens, a little elderly man like an eunuch, with a most beautiful youth along with him, having dogged us to a private part of the walks, came up to us, and addressing themselves to the Pophar, asked him what he would take for his young slave, pointing at me, because the Bassa desired to buy him. The Pophar seemed to be more surprized at this unexpected question, than I ever observed him at any thing before, which confirmed me more and more in the opinion of the kindness he had for me. But soon coming to himself, as he was a man of a great presence of mind, he said very sedately that I was no slave; nor a person to be sold for any price, since I was as free as he was. They, taking this for a pretext to enhance the price, produced some oriental pearls, with other jewels of immense value, and bid him name what he would have, and it should be paid immediately: adding, I was to be the companion of the Bassa's son, where I might make my fortune for ever, if I would go along with them. The Pophar persisted in the same

answer, and said he had no power over me: they insisted I had been bought as a slave but a short time ago, in the grand Signor's dominions, and they would have me. Here I interposed and answered briskly, that though I had been taken prisoner by the chance of war, I was no slave, nor would I part with my liberty but at the price of my life. The Bassa's son, for so he now declared himself to be, instead of being angry at my resolute answer, replied with a most agreeable smile, that I should be as free as he was, making the most solemn protestations by his holy Alcoran, that our lives and deaths should be inseparable. Though there was something in his words the most persuasive I ever felt within myself; yet, considering the obligations I had to the Pophar, I was resolved not to go, but answered with a most respectful bow, that though I was free by nature, I had indispensable obligations not to go with him, and hoped he would take it for a determinate answer. I pronounced this with such a resolute air, as made him see there was no hopes. Whether his desire was more inflamed by my denial, or whether they took us for persons of greater note than we appeared to be, I can't tell; but I observed he put on a very languishing air, with tears stealing down his cheeks, which moved me to a degree I can't express. I was scarce capable of speaking, but cast down my eyes, and stood as immoveable as a statue. This seemed to revive his hopes; he recovered himself a little, and, with a trembling voice, replied, suppose it be the Bassa's daughter you saw yesterday, that desires to have you for her attendant, what do you say? I started at this, and casting my eyes on him more attentively, I saw his swimming in tears, with a tenderness enough to pierce the hardest heart. I looked at the Pophar, who I saw was trembling for me: and feared it was the daughter herself that asked me the question. I was soon put out of doubt, for she, finding she had gone too far to go back, discovered herself, and said I must go along with her, or one of us must die."

*

*

*

"I considered she was a Turk, and I a Christian : that my death must certainly be the consequence of such a rash affair, were I to engage in it. That whether she concealed me in her father's court, or attempted to go off with me, it was ten thousand to one, we should both be sacrificed neither could the violence of such a sudden passion ever be concealed from the Bassa's spies. In a word I was resolved not to go; but how to get off was the difficulty. I saw the most beautiful creature in the world all in tears before me, after a declaration of love, that exceeded the most romantic tales; youth, love, and beauty, and even an inclination on my side pleaded her cause. But at length the consideration of the endless miseries I was likely to draw on the young lady, should I comply with what she desired, prevailed above all others. I was resolved to refuse, for her sake more than my own, and was just going to tell her so on my knees, with all the arguments my reason could suggest to appease her; when an attendant came running in haste to the other person, who also was a woman, and told her the Bassa was coming that way. She was roused out of her lethargy at this: the other woman, without any demur snatched her away, as the Pophar did me."

Gaudentio was well pleased on reflection that he had not

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