ies of intercourse, common at that time to all
travellers and adventurers. When he was returning home, he resolved,
after looking into his family affairs, to visit the Castle of Lovel, and
enquire into the situation of his friend. He landed in Kent, attended by
his Greek friend and two faithful servants, one of which was maimed by
the wounds he had received in the defence of his master.

Sir Philip went to his family seat in Yorkshire. He found his mother
and sister were dead, and his estates sequestered in the hands of
commissioners appointed by the Protector. He was obliged to prove the
reality of his claim, and the identity of his person (by the testimony
of some of the old servants of his family), after which every thing was
restored to him. He took possession of his own house, established his
household, settled the old servants in their former stations, and placed
those he brought home in the upper offices of his family. He then left
his friend to superintend his domestic affairs; and, attended by only
one of his old servants, he set out for the Castle of Lovel, in the west
of England. They travelled by easy journeys; but, towards the evening
of the second day, the servant was so ill and fatigued he could go no
further; he stopped at an inn where he grew worse every hour, and the
next day expired. Sir Philip was under great concern for the loss of his
servant, and some for himself, being alone in a strange place; however
he took courage, ordered his servant's funeral, attended it himself,
and, having shed a tear of humanity over his grave, proceeded alone on
his journey.

As he drew near the estate of his friend, he began to enquire of every
one he met, whether the Lord Lovel resided at the seat of his ancestors?
He was answered by one, he did not know; by another, he could not tell;
by a third, that he never heard of such a person. Sir Philip thought it
strange that a man of Lord Lovel's consequence should be unknown in
his own neighbourhood, and where his ancestors had usually resided. He
ruminated on the uncertainty of human happiness. "This world," said
he, "has nothing for a wise man to depend upon. I have lost all my
relations, and most of my friends; and am even uncertain whether any
are remaining. I will, however, be thankful for the blessings that are
spared to me; and I will endeavour to replace those that I have lost. If
my friend lives, he shall share my fortune with me; his children shall
have the rev