his works possess a considerable portion of a wild and irregular talent, and, if we may be allowed to gather from his remaining writings the estimation in which he held them and himself, very different, indeed, ought to have been the treatment of posterity. When we meet with a book which appears to us to possess claims to notice, and of which we happen previously to know nothing, the natural process is to institute an inquiry concerning its author and his works. We soon learnt from the contents of this extraordinary little book itself, that its real, though not its pretended author, was Sir Thomas Urquhart, a name with which we had long been familiar, as the excellent translator of Rabelais; but of whose history or other works we were totally ignorant. We immediately applied to the Biographical Dictionary of Chalmers, in the full expectation of meeting a copious account of the life of this singular man, for such we had soon found him to be-our search was in vain; and a similar search into every collection of biography, of which we know, has been likewise in vain, except that Granger has noticed his existence, because there happens to be a portrait of him prefixed to one of his works. The few particulars which we can pick up, under such circumstances, must, of course, be scanty, and are entirely gathered from his own works. In a strange pedigree of his family, from the creation of the world to the year of his own age, which he published under the title of A Peculiar Promptuary of Time,* he tells us, that he was knighted, at Whitehall, by Charles I. in 1641. From the book before us it appears, that he accompanied Charles II. from Scotland, in his invasion of England under Cromwell; that he was taken prisoner at the battle of Worcester, and detained in London on his parole, where he employed himself in composing the work itself. It is very clear, that he had travelled into most of the polished countries of Europe, and we have more than his own word for the belief that he was skilled in the modern languages, and accomplished in the fashionable arts of the time. His translation of Rabelais is accounted by the best judges to be the most perfect version of any author whatever-which is no mean praise, when we call to mind the obscurity, singularity, and difficulty of the original, in despite of which he has managed to transfuse the spirit of his author with undiminished force and vigour. His treatise on

ΠΑΝΤΟΧΡΟΝΟ ΚΑΝΩΝ. A Peculiar Promptuary of Time, wherein is displayed an exact Directory for all particular Chronologies in what Family soever, and that by shewing the Pedigree of the name of Urquhart in the house of Cromartie since the Creation to 1652. 8vo. Lond. 1652.

Trigonometry, a wild and intricate performance, proves his knowledge of mathematics, and a due reverence for the discovery of Napier, of whose system of logarithms he speaks in the most enthusiastic terms. Perhaps his Epigrams would prove him to have been a wit, if not a poet; but we have not had the good fortune to procure a sight of them. Motteux speaks of him as a physician, in his preface to Rabelais; and Granger mentions the same fact, but doubtingly.

This little work purports to be written with some wild design of recovering his paternal estates in Scotland, by a display of his superior talents and endowments. He declares that he has discovered and completed a universal language, the value and utility of which he calculates in pretty round numbers. Does he not, then, most richly merit the restoration of his acres in Cromartie, which, it seems, was in military occupation? Such reasoning, at no time we know of, was ever likely to prevail, and certainly it would be difficult to discover men more likely to turn a deaf ear to such an application than Cromwell, Ireton, Overton, and the fanatical body of Independents, even had the claim been well founded. But we are constrained to say, a program more full of quackery, folly, and nonsense, was never put together, than the early part of the book, which purports to have formed part of the papers of Sir Thomas Urquhart, found in the streets of Worcester after the battle. The rest of the volume is to be supposed as written by some friend and advocate of the Knight. The deceit is, however, soon seen through; but had it been maintained, in the most ingenious humour, it would not have been worth inventing.

This introduction on the scheme of a universal language only serves as a frontal, as the title expresses, to a eulogy on the Scottish nation. This part of the work is also intended as a recommendation of himself, for he felt apprehensive lest the general prejudice against the Scotch, in full force at the time, should operate to his disadvantage in recovering his property, and in procuring a remuneration for the work which was to confer so great a benefit upon his native country and the world at large. It is from this part of the book, alone, that we shall make our extracts. The style of Sir Thomas is of so singular a kind, he possesses such a copious fund of sesquipedalian eloquence, and stalks along his subject with such a rapid and

*The Trissotetras, or a most exquisite Table for resolving all manner of Triangles, &c. By Sir Thomas Urquhart, of Cromartie, Knt. London, 1645. Dedicated in a very fine style to "The right honourable and most noble lady, my dear and loving mother, the Lady Dowager of Cromartie."

gigantic stride, that we can ensure our readers a certain portion of amusement, at least; and from the curious subject of one of the extracts, perhaps some share of information.

We shall first give a singular account of the composition of the work, from the Epistle Liminary.

"Thus my task increasing, and not being able to enlarge my time, for the cause aforesaid, I was necessitated to husband it the better, to overtriple my diligence, and do the work by proportion of above three days in the space of one; wherefore laying aside all other businesses, and cooping myself up daily for some hours together, betwixt the case and the printing press, I usually afforded the setter copy at the rate of above a whole printed sheet in the day; which, although by reason of the smallness of a pica letter, and close couching thereof, it did amount to three full sheets of my writing, the aforesaid setter nevertheless (so nimble a workman he was) would in the space of twenty-four hours make dispatch of the whole, and be ready for another sheet. He and I striving thus who should compose fastest, he with his hand, and I with my brain; and his uncasing of the letters, and placing them in the composing instrument, standing for my conception; and his plenishing of the gally, and imposing of the form, encountering with the supposed equi-value of my writing; we would almost every foot so jump together in this joint expedition, and so nearly overtake each other in our intended course, that I was oftentimes (to keep him doing) glad to tear off parcels of ten or twelve lines apiece, and give him them, till more were ready; unto which he would so suddenly put an order, that almost still, before the ink of the written letters was dry, their representatives were (out of their respective boxes) ranked in the composing stick; by means of which great haste, I writing but upon the loose sheets of cording quires, which (as I minced and tore them) looking like pieces of waste paper, troublesome to get rallied, after such dispersive scatteredness, I had not the leisure to read what I had written, till it came to a proof, and sometimes to a full revise; so that by virtue of this unanimous contest, and joint emulation betwixt the theoretic and practical part, which should overtry the other in celerity, we, in the space of fourteen working days, completed this whole book (such as it is) from the first notion of the brain, till the last motion of the press. And that without any other help on my side, either of quick or dead, than what (by the favour of God) my own judgement and fancy did suggest unto me; save so much as, by way of information, a servant of mine would now and then bring to me, from some reduced officer of the primitive parliament, touching the proper names of some Scottish warriors abroad, which I was very apt to forget."

The exploits of the admirable Crichton are recounted in the Jewel, with more particularity than any where else; but the facts are so disguised by extravagant rhodomontade, that the reader feels inclined to reject the whole as an enormous fiction.

As the book, however, is so very rare, we shall extract the whole of it.

"To speak a little now of his compatriot Crichtoun, I hope will not offend the ingenious reader, who may know, by what is already displayed, that it cannot be heterogeneal from the proposed purpose, to make report of that magnanimous act achieved by him at the Duke of Mantua's court, to the honour not only of his own, but to the eternal renown also of the whole isle of Britain; the manner whereof was thus. A certain Italian gentleman, of a mighty, able, strong, nimble, and vigorous body, by nature fierce, cruel, warlike, and audacious, and in the gladiatory art so superlatively expert and dextrous, that all the most skilful teachers of escrime and fencing-masters of Italy, (which in matter of choice professors in that faculty needed never as yet to yield to any nation in the world,) were by him beaten to their good behaviour, and, by blows and thrusts given in, which they could not avoid, enforced to acknowledge him their overcomer. Bethinking himself how, after so great a conquest of reputation, he might, by such means, be very suddenly enriched, he projected a course of exchanging the blunt to sharp, and the foils into tucks; and, in this resolution, providing a purse full of gold, worth near upon four hundred pounds, English money, travelled alongst the most especial and considerable parts of Spain, France, the Low Countries, Germany, Pole, Hungary, Greece, Italy, and other places, where ever there was greatest probability of encountering with the eagerest and most atrocious duellists; and immediately after his arrival to any city or town, that gave apparent likelihood of some one or other champion that would enter the lists and cope with him, he boldly challenged them with sound of trumpet, in the chief market-place, to adventure an equal sum of money against that of his, to be disputed at the sword's point, who should have both. There failed not several brave men, almost of all nations, who, accepting of his cartels, were not afraid to hazard both their person and coin against him: but (till he meddled with this Crichtoun) so main was the ascendant he had above all his antagonists, and so unlucky the fate of such as offered to scuffle with him, that all his opposing combatants (of what state or dominion soever they were) who had not lost both their life and gold, were glad, for the preservation of their person, (though sometimes with a great expense of blood,) to leave both their reputation and money behind them. At last returning homewards to his own country, loaded with honour and wealth, or rather the spoil of the reputation of those foreigners, whom the Italians call Tramontani, he by the way, after his accustomed manner of abording other places, repaired to the city of Mantua, where the duke (according to the courtesy usually bestowed on him by other princes) vouchsafed him a protection, and safeguard for his person. He (as formerly he was wont to do, by beat of drum, sound of trumpet, and several printed papers, disclosed his design, battered on all the chief gates, posts, and pillars of the town) gave all men to understand, that his purpose was to challenge at the single rapier, any whosoever of that city or country, that

durst be so bold as to fight with him, provided he would deposit a bag of five hundred Spanish pistoles, over-against another of the same value, which himself should lay down, upon this condition, that the enjoyment of both should be the conqueror's due. His challenge was not long unanswered: for it happened at the same time, that three of the most notable cutters in the world, and so highly cried up for valour, that all the bravoes of the land were content to give way to their domineering (how insolent soever they should prove,) because of their former constantly-obtained victories in the field, were all three together at the court of Mantua; who, hearing of such a harvest of five hundred pistoles, to be reaped (as they expected) very soon, and with ease, had almost contested amongst themselves for the priority of the first encounter, but that one of my lord duke's courtiers moved them to cast lots for who should be first, second, and third, in case none of the former two should prove victorious. Without more ado, he whose chance it was to answer the cartel with the first defiance, presented himself within the barriers, or place appointed for the fight, where his adversary attending him, as soon as the trumpet sounded a charge, they jointly fell to work: and (because I am not now to amplify the particulars of a combat) although the dispute was very hot for a while, yet, whose fortune it was to be the first of the three in the field, had the disaster to be the first of the three that was foiled: for at last, with a thrust in the throat, he was killed dead on the ground. This, nevertheless, not a whit dismayed the other two: for the next day, he that was second in the roll, gave his appearance after the same manner as the first had done, but with no better success; for he likewise was laid flat dead upon the place, by means of a thrust he received in the heart. The last of the three, finding that he was as sure of being engaged in the fight, as if he had been the first in order, plucked up his heart, knit his spirits together, and, on the day after the death of the second, most courageously entering the lists, demeaned himself for a while with great activity and skill; but at last, his luck being the same with those that preceded him, by a thrust in the belly, he, within four-and-twenty hours after, gave up the ghost. These (you may imagine) were lamentable spectacles to the duke and city of Mantua, who, casting down their faces for shame, knew not what course to take for reparation of their honour. The conquering duellist, proud of a victory so highly tending to both his honour and profit, for the space of a whole fortnight, or two weeks together, marched daily along the streets of Mantua, without any opposition or controulment, like another Romulus or Marcellus, in triumph: which, the never too much to be admired Crichtoun perceiving, to wipe off the imputation of cowardice lying upon the court of Mantua, to which he had but even then arrived, (although formerly he had been a domestic thereof,) he could neither eat nor drink till he had first sent a challenge to the conqueror, appelling him to repair with his best sword in his hand, by nine of the clock in the morning of the next day, in presence of the whole court, and in the same place where he had killed the other three, to fight with him upon this quarrel, that, in the court of Mantua, there was as valiant men as he; and, for his