viving again of escaping; One who had been in the Guards with Me, came, and told Me, that he had found a Barrel of Money; and that if I had a mind, he would get me as much as he pleased; upon which I told him, that I had no manner of use for it; for if I was so happy as to escape into France, I had Friends enough, that would take care of Me, or if I died, or was taken in the way, what Service, would it do it Me; moreover if the Prince of whom we were uncertain, where he was, should rally again, what a shocking thing, we should have, to reproach our Consciences always with, viz. to have been a hindrance to Our Dear Prince's Designs; and begged, that he would desist from any thoughts of it; at which, he being of a Temper, exceeding rude, began to repent himself of informing Me of it; but seeing, he resolved to take some of it, and let the rest be embezzled away; for, as far as I could find, he had hid it in a place unknown to any one, but whether, in the Confusion, when every thing was carried off, he had stopped it, or carried it away elsewhere, I know not, for he would not tell Me; but strange you will say, was the Confusion, that a Barrel of Gold should fall into his hands, and no one the wiser: However, I resolved to quit my Conscience of it, and at this time, the search being much about it, I acqnainted Mr. Harrison a Priest, what such a Man pretended to do, and begged that he would keep an eye on him; he being at that time, a little way before Me, and overhearing Me, turned back, and struck Me down with a stick, which he had in his hand, and swore, that, the first opportunity he had, he would kill Me;

but the Priest taking my part, endeavoured to pacify him, desiring him to desist from any thoughts of the Money, and go and shew him where it was, but he remained obstinate, and said, he was resolved to have some of it; since the Prince's Affair seemed to be over, alledging that his Father, and Himself, had been ruined for loyalty: however, they agreed to go together, and what afterwards passed I know not; but recovering myself from the fall He gave Me, I went forwards towards the Ships, in order to get on Board that Night, and in going I was so happy, as to meet with the Duke of Perth, who seeing Me in a most piteous Condition, called Me to him, aud after embracing Me, and giving Me most agreeable consolation, said, Dear Mr. Daniel, I am truly sorry for you; but I assure you, that you shall go along with Me, and if we are so happy, as to get to France, depend upon it, that I will be your Friend; upon which, I desired his Grace not to be in pain about Me, for the Loss of Me, was only the Loss of my self, having no one dependant on Me; and assured him, that I was truly resigned to God's Holy Will, and thanked his Grace, for his kindness and concern for Me, and wished that we might be so happy, as to get into France. And now, after we had staid some time on the Sea Shore, expecting some Boats, to come for Us, at last, there came two or three to fetch Us, but We were obliged to wade breast deep in the Sea, before We could get into them; and while We were lying on the Shore, the Duke of Perth, Poor Man, wrapt up in a blanket, a Highlander, by Accident, let the Snuff of his Pipe of To

bacco, fall into a Barrell of Gunpowder, which blew him up, with a great number of stones about him, one of which, came so near my Ear, that I could not hear at all, for three hours after, and it being dark, surprised us at first, what that noise could be, for we supposed, that the English were returned to the attack; but happily no Mischief was done, further than, that the Highlander lost his life.

And now the Boat, which the Duke was in, put immediately off, and another coming, took Me in, with several more, and carried us to the Bellona Frigate, where we remained at anchor, till two o'Clock the next Morning, when we set sail for France; the Chief of those in our Ships were, Sir Thomas Sherridon, and Mr. Sherridon his Nephew, and Mr. Hay: we were twenty-five days, in sailing from thence to France, and met with no opposition during our Course; during which time, I was exceeding sea sick; and having no pockets about Me, and every one thinking I should die, I gave a purse of Money to Mr. John Hay's Servant, telling him if I died to take it, and if I lived to carry it for Me to France, which he carefully performed; In the Ship I was in, we had a Sort of Epidemical Distemper, which carried off 67 Persons, in twenty-five days:

and about the tenth Day of our Voyage, I had the disagreeable Sight, to see my Friend and Patron, the Duke of Perth, thrown overboard, which sight joyned with my violent Sickness, I expected would have been my End: but what I thought would have killed Me, proved in a great Measure to save my Life; for in that pestiferous Ship, my continual vomiting, hindered any thing noxious, to take any effect upon Me, and what is very surprising (which I affirm upon Honour) is, that for twenty-two Days, I had not one stool; and now after all my Adventures, Dangers, and Fatigues, I was at the end of twenty-five Days, so happy, as to set Footing in France; where to my satisfaction, I have Lived since, in expectation dayly of seeing, what I have ever wished to see.

P. S. Having now atchieved the Butt of my Design, in as true a Manner, as I could, I hope that the Validity of what I have Writ, will make up for Other Faults, that may be found in it, and that my Candid Reader will justly find Matter of Admiration and Esteem, in the Behaviour and Actions of One so Dear, whom I had the Honour, once to Serve, and Conclude with,

FUIMUS TROJES, ET ERRIMUS ITERUM.

the reader's permission is solicited to rebut a slander which has been uttered against this journal, respecting the work in question, by a fellow who writes in the Orthodox Journal. This demagoguish scribe, whose zeal is so hot as to consume both his manners and his morality, has assured his readers that Mr. Butler was about to review his own book, and publish his criticism in this Magazine. To this we shall offer one answer, besides the unprincipled vulgarity of the man's manners and expressions; it is not so; and the public, but more especially our readers, are respectfully cautioned against giving credence to any such assertion proceeding from the same writer in future, (whatever assurance he may use in promulgating his falsehoods) unless he back his assertion with the evidence of some credible and decent witness.

Mr. Butler makes excellent historical reports; the toils of memory which subdue the ambition of many enterprizers in this kind of writing, are nothing to him. He brings off from the field of time not only the secret history connected with the great records of which he treats, but also the obsolete controversies, and even the separate editions, type and covering of the books (now scarcely known) relating thereto. His literary attainments are however too minute to allow him that majestic scope of judgment, which is necessary for an absolute historian. There are few men whose knowledge of circumstances comes up to his; but when human intellect has spread its dominion over a proportionate sphere of knowledge, it is scarcely possible to enlarge its boundary on one part without

contracting it on the others. The mathematician forgets the graceful records of poetry; the poet absolves himself from the intricate truths of mathematics; the metaphysician pursues his abstractions without referring to historical experience, and the physician loses his regard for general rules of health, in his solicitude to remove its inci

dental oppressions.

We shall shew in what particulars Mr. Butler has failed, presently. In the mean time, it is proper to confess, notwithstanding, that Mr. Butler comprises in himself more attainments, and a more judicious mixture and application of them than any writer who has appeared within the last ten years.

Mr. B. begins his brief chapters with a supposition of error in that general notion, that the middle ages were extremely ignorant. He appeals from this exaggerated estimate, to the beauty and magnificence of the gothic structures, and the curious works in gold, silver, and bronze, with which those ages abounded. He disclaims also, by historical appeal, the exaggerated superstition of the early ages of the Catholic Church. He quotes Mr. Fletcher's opinion of the Saxon era of Christianity; concerning which that great champion observes "St. Augustine and his companions preached and acted, as once did the first envoys of Jesus Christ. They gained proselytes by the eloquence of truth, assisted by the eloquence of meekness, humility, and piety; verifying, in the whole series of their conduct, that pleasing sentence of the prophet, how beautiful on the hills are the footsteps of those, who bring glad tidings! Neither were the exertions of their cha

and mankind were not experienced enough to manage it; it was a radical mistake in politics and judgment; but it was not engendered by ambition, nor protected by cowardice. The

pro

greater part of the Papal authority was indeed a voluntary cession of right, made by zeal, in favour of superior wisdom and piety. Let us pass over the gression of these two principles, until they meet in active opposition, in that period which produced, what is commonly called, the Reformation. The desire of change, and the ambition of nonconformity, which are inherent principles of our nature, had been at work long before the rupture between Luther and Leo X.; the disposition to spiritual revolt must indeed have commenced as soon as general information and the Papal prerogative grew too big for the preservation of amicable intercourse. Luther's reformation therefore was only the flame of a half-smothered, but increasing fire. The zeal of repairing the old house had travelled into England long before, as may be proved by observing the period in which Wickliffe flourished. Here we must observe how fallacious are the ordinary suppositions respecting agents and secondary causes; they are almost always mistaken for the original and important ones. A still greater mistake is usually made in estimating their moral worth; the first cause of confusion and change lies in previous and general error; the second is the ability of particular individuals to correct or expose such error. The first is generally most severely condemned, though it is most commonly destitute of any original mischievous intention; the se

cond is as highly extolled, though it generally is set at work by the disappointment or ambition of selfishness. Luther is held by his partizans to have been zealous for reformation from motives of piety and justice; and Henry the VIIIth of England has credit fer being a profound politician, and a great state economist, because he abolished the religious houses. It would have been well, if the first had not been a great gainer, previously, from the exclusive sale of indulgencies; his public spirit and affected abhorrence of spiritual tyranny would have stood in a much clearer light, than now, when it looks like the pique of an exasperated trader. As to Henry and his minister, they unconsciously became the pioneers to the reformation, the introduction of which they dreaded more than any other persons in the state. They believed, or professed to believe, that there were too many religious houses; they applied to the Pope for authority to reduce them. was granted, and Wolsey commenced the work; he reduced a sufficient quantity of them to furnish forth that pomp of splendour, which has, as much as his real abilities, given him so exalted a station in the history of our country. Little did he then deem however, that having taught the Royal Tiger the relish of this kind of food, he would set him ravening, with all his hungry minions in succession, through the whole church establishment. Little too did the ferocious Henry imagine that by so doing he was throwing down the bulwark which kept innovation from the State, or that he was letting in a system of habitual cruelty and injustice which fastened itself upon the councils and policy

It