Skip to main content

Full text of "Laird of Cool’s ghost; being several conferences and meetings betwixt the Reverend Mr. Ogilvie … and the ghost of Mr. Maxwell, late Laird of Cool; as it was found in Mr. Ogilvie’s closet after his death, written with his own hand"

See other formats

1 j;^ AIMB OF . ,n 

Ion i noi?.B0S^jf3^ii "O lioi i -'^v)[eriT 

&e^vei'al Conferences and Meetings betwixt tna 
w . Reverend Mr. OGILVIE, 
^ Latfe^ 'Minister of the Gospel at Innervvick^^ 

Mf58 emo'6 T^^' , ^^^^ ^^^^ 

of Mr; MAXTf ML^^^ 
it was found in Mr, Ogilvie's Closet aftfei 
rf- hig Death — Written with his own hand, 




(lifliomo TKB 


Upon the third day of February, 1722, at seven 
o'clock in the evening, after I had parted with 
Thurston, and coming up the burial road, one 
came up riding after me : upon hearing the noise 
of the horse's feet, I took it to be Thurston, but 
looking back, and seeing the horse of a grey col- 
our, I called. Who's there ? the answer was the 
Laird of Cool, be not afraid. Looking to him 
with the little light the moon afforded, I took 
him to be Collector Castlelaw, who had a mind 
to put a trick upon me, and immediately I struck 
I with all my force with my cane, thinking I would 
I leave a mark upon him that would make him re- 
j member his presumption ; but although sensible 
i I aimed as well as ever I did in my life, yet my 
cane finding no resistance, but flying out of my 
hand to the distance of sixty feet, and observing 
it by its white head, I dismounted and took it 
up, but had some difficulty in mounting again, 


partly by reason of a certain sort of trembling 
throughout my whole joints, something also or 
anger had its share in my confusion ; for though 
he laughed when my staff flew out of my hand, 
coming up with him again, (who halted all the 
time I was seeking my staff,) I asked him once 
more who he was ? he answered, The Laird of 
Cool. I enquired. First, if he was the Laird of 
Cool. Secondly, What brought him thither? 
and, Thirdly, What was his business with me ? 
he answered, The reason that I want you is, 
that I know you are disposed to do for me what 
none of your brethren in Nithsdale will so much 
as attempt, though it serve never so good a pur- 
pose. I told him, I would never refuse to do 
any thing to serve a good purpose, if I thought 
I was obliged to do it as my duty. He answered, 
Since I had undertaken what few in Nithsdale 
would, for he had tried several persons on that 
subject, who were more obliged to him than I 
was to any person living. Upon this I drew my 
bridle reins, and asked in surprise, what I had 
undertaken ? he answered. That on Sabbath last, 
I heard you condemned Mr. Paton, and the other 
ministers of Dumfries, for dissuading Mr. Menzies 
from keeping his appointment with me ; and if 
you had been in their place, would have persuaded 
the lad to do as I desired, and that you would have 


gone with him yourself, if he had been afraid ; and 
if you had been in Mr. Paton's place, you would 
have delivered my commissions yourself, as they 
tended to do several persons justice. I asked 
him, Pray, Cool, who informed you that I talk- 
ed at that rate ? to which he answered, You must 
know that we are acquainted with many things 
that the living know nothing about ; these things 
you did say, and much more to that purpose, and 
deliver my commissions to my loving wife. Upon 
[ this I said, 'tis a pity Cool, that you who know 
! so many things should not know the difference 
between an absolute and conditional promise ; 1 
did, indeed, at the time you mention, blame Mr, 
Paton, for I thought him justly blameable, in 
hindering the lad to meet with you, and if I had 
been in his place, I would have acted quite the 
reverse ; but I did never say, that if you would 
come to Innerwick and employ me, that I would 
go all the way to Dumfries on such an errand, that 
is what never so much as entered into my 
thoughts. He answered. What were your 
thoughts I don't pretend to know, but I can de- 
pend on my information these were your words ; 
but I see you are in some disorder, I will wait 
upon you when you have more presence of mind. 

By this time we were at James Dickson's 
iAclosure, below the ehurch-yard ; and v/^en I 


was recollecting in my mind, if ever I had spoken 
these words he alledged, he broke oiF from me 
through the church-yard, with greater violence 
than any man on horseback is capable of, with 
such a singing and buzzing noise, as put me in 
greater disorder than I was in all the time I was 
with him. I came to my house, and my wife 
observed more than ordinary paleness in my coun- 
tenance, and alledged that something ailed me. 
I called for I dram, and told her I was a little 
uneasy. After I found myself a little refreshed, 
I went to my closet to meditate on this most as- 
tonishing adventure. 

Upon the 5th of March, 1722, being at Hare- 
head, baptizing the shepherd's child, I came off 
about sunsetting, and near Wm, White's march, 
the Laird of Cool came up with me as formerly ; 
and after his first salutation, bade me not be 
afraid. I told him I was not in the least afraid, 
in the name of GOD and Christ my Saviour, 
that he would do me the least harm ; for I knew 
that he in whom I trusted, was stronger than all 
they put together ; and if any of them should at- 
tempt to do, even to the horse that I ride upon, 
as you have done to Doctor Menzie's man, I have 
free access to complain to my Lord and Master, 
to the lash whose resentment you are liable as 
now as before. 


Cool. You need not multiply words on that 
head, for you are safe with me, and safer, if safer 
can be, than when I was alive. 

Ogil. Well then Cool, let me have a peace- 
able and easy conversation with you for the time 
we ride together, and give me some information 
concerning the affairs of the other world, for no 
man inclines to lose his time in conversing with 
the dead, without hearing or learning something 

Cool. Well, Sir, I will satisfy you as far as 
I think proper and convenient. Let me know 
what information you want. 

OgiL May I then ask you, if you be in a 
state of happiness or not ? 

Cool. There are a great many things I can 
answer, that the living are ignorant of ; there are 
a great many things that, notwithstanding the 
additional knowledge I have acquired since mj 
death, I cannot answer ; and there are a great 
many questions you may start, of which the last 
is one, that I will not answer. 

Ogil. Then I know how to manage our con- 
versation ; whatever I enquire of you, I see you 
can easily shift me ; to that I might profit more 
by conversing with myself. 

Cool. You may try. 

Ogil. Well, then, what sort of a body is that 


you appear in ; and what sort of a horse is ihat 
you lide upon, which appears to be so fuli of 
metal ? 

Cool. You may depend upon it, it is not the 
same body that I was witness to your marriage 
in, nor in which I died, for that is in the grave 
rotting ; but it is such a body as serves me in a 
moment, for I can fly as fleet with it as my soul 
can do without it ; so that I can go to Dumfries, 
and return again, before you can ride twice the 
length of your horse, nay, if I have a mind to 
go to London, or Jerusalem, or to the moon, if 
you please, I can perform all these journies 
equally soon, for it costs me nothing but a thought 
or wish : for this body is as fleet as your thought, 
for in the moment of time you can turn your 
thoughts on Rome, I can go there in person : and 
as for my horse, he is much like myself, for he 
is Andrew Johnston, my tenant, who died forty- 
eight hours before me. 

Ogil. So it seems when Andrew Johnston 
inclines to ride, you must serve him in the quality 
of an horse, as he does you now. 

Cool. You are mistaken. 

Ogil. I thought that all distinctions betweei 
mistresses and maids, lairds 'dv^ tenants, had been 
done away at death. 


Cool. True it is, but you do not take up the 

Ogil. This is one of the questions you won't 

Cool. You are mistaken, for the question I 
can answer, and after you may understand it. 

Ogil. Well then. Cool, have you never yet 
appeared before God, nor received any sentence 
from him as a Judge. 

Cool. Never yet, 

Ogil. I know you was a scholar, Cool, and 
'tis generally believed there is a private judg- 
ment, besides the general at the great day, the 
former immediately after death. — Upon this he 
interrupted me, arguing. 

Cool. No such thing, no such thing 1 No 
trial, no trial till the great day 1 The heaven 
which good men enjoy after death, consists only 
in the serenity of their minds, and the satisfaction 
of a good conscience ; and the certain hopes they 
have of eternal joy, when that day shall come. 
The punishment or hell of the wicked, immediate- 
ly after death, consists in the stings of an awa- 
kened conscience, and the terrors of facing the 
great Judge ! and the sensible apprehensions of 
eternal torments ensuing ! And this bears still a 
due proportion to the evils they did when living. 
So mdeed the state of some good folks differ but 


little in happiness from what they enjoyed in the 
worlds save only that they are free from the body, 
and the sins and sorrows that attended it. On 
the other hand, there are some who may be said 
rather not to have been good, than that they are 
wicked ; while living, their state is not easily dis- 
tinguished from that of the former ; and under 
that class comes a great herd of souls : a vast 
number of ignorant people, who have not much 
minded the affairs of eternity, but at the same 
time have lived in much indolence, ignorance 
and innocence. 

Ogil. I thought that their rejecting the terms 
of salvation offered, was sufficient ground for 
God to punish them with eternal displeasure ; 
and as to their ignorance, that could never excuse 
them, since they live in a place of the world, 
where the true knowledge of these things might 
have been easily attained. 

Cool. They never properly rejected the terms 
of salvation ; they never, strictly speaking, re- 
jected Christ ; poor souls, they had as great a 
liking both to him and heaven, as their gross im- 
aginations were capable of : Impartial reason 
must make many allowances, as the stupidity of 
their parents, want of education, distance from 
people of good sense and knowledge, and the un- 
interrupted applications they were obliged to 


give to their secular affairs for their daily bread, 
the impious treachery of their pastors, who per- 
suaded them, that if they were of such a party 
all was well; and many other considerations 
which God, who is pure and perfect reason itself, 
will not overlook : these are not so much under the 
load of divine displeasure, as they are out of his 
grace and favour ; and you know it is one thing 
to be discouraged, and quite another thing to be 
persecuted with all the power and rage of an in- 
censed earthly king. I assure you, mens' faces 
are not more various and different in the world, 
than their circumstances are after death. 

Ogil. I am loath to believe all that you have 
saic* at this time, Cool, (but I will not dispute 
those matters with you) because some things you 
have advanced seem to contradict the Scriptures, 
which I shall always look upon as the infallible 
truth of God. For I find, in the parable of Dives 
and Lazarus, that the one was immediately after 
death carried up by the angels into Abraham's 
bosom, and the other immediately thrust down 
to hell. 

Cool. Excuse me. Sir, that does nor con- 
tradict one word that I have said, but you seem 
not to understand the parable, whose only end is 
to illustrate the truth, that a man be very happy 
ai.d flo rishing in this world, and wretched and 


miserable in the next ; and that a man may be 
miserable in this world, and happy and glorious 
in the next. 

Ogil. Be it so, Cool, I shall yield that point 
to you, and pass to another, which has afforded 
me much speculation since our last encounter ; 
and that is. How you came to know that I talk- 
ed after the manner that I did concerning Mr, 
Paton, on the first Sabbath of February last. 
Was you present with me, but invisible? He 
answered very haughtily, No, Sir, I was not pre- 
sent myself. I answered, I would not have you 
angry, Cool, I proposed this question for my 
own satisfaction, but if you don't think proper to 
answer, let it pass. After he had paused, with 
his eyes on the ground, for three or four minutes 
of time at most, with some haste and seeming 
cheerfulness, says. 

Cool. Well, Sir, I will satisfy you in that 
point. You must know that there are sent from 
heaven, angels to guard and comfort and to do 
other good services to good people, and even the 
spirits of good men departed are employed in 
that errand. 

Ogil. And do you not think that every man 
has a good angel ? 

Cool. No, but a great many particular men 
have : there are but few houses of distinction 


especially, but what have at least one attending 
them ; and from what you have already heard of 
.spirits, it is no difficult matter to understand how 
they may be serviceable to each particular mem- 
ber, though at different places at a great distance. 
Many are the good offices which the good angels 
do to them that fear God, though many times 
they are not sensible of it : and I know assuredly, 
that one powerful angel, or even an active clever 
soul departed, may be sufficient for some villages ; 
but for your great cities, such as London, Ed- 
inburgh, or the like, there is one great angel, 
that has the superintendance of the whole ; and 
there are inferior angels, or souls departed, to 
whose particulars care such a man, of such a par- 
ticular weight or business, is committed. Now, 
Sir, the kingdom of Satan does ape the kingdom 
of Christ as much in matters of politics, as can 
be, well knowing that the court of wisdom is from 
above ; so that from thence are sent out mission- 
aries in the same order. But because the king- 
dom of Satan is much better replenished than 
the other, instead of one devil, there are in many 
instances two or three commissioned to attend a 
particular family of influence and distinction. 

Ogil. I read that there are ten thousand 
times ten thousand of angels t hat wait upon God, 
and sing his praisa and do his will, and I cannot 


understand how trie good angels can be inferior 
in number to the evil. 

Cool. Did not I say that whatever the num^ 
^er be, the spirits departed are employed in the 
same business ; so that as to the number of ori- 
ginal deities, whereof Satan is chief, I cannot 
determine, but you need not doubt but there are 
more souls departed in that place, which in a loose 
sense you call hell, by almost an infinity, than 
what are gone to that place, which in a like sense 
you call heaven, which likewise are employed in 
the same purpose ; and I can assure you that there 
is as great a difference between angels, both good 
and bad, as there is among men, with respect to 
their sense, knowledge, cunning, cleverness, and 
action ; nay, which is more, the departed souls 
on both sides, out do severals, from their very 
first departure, of the original angels. This 
you will perhaps think a paradox, but is true. 

Ogil. I do not doubt it, but what is that to 
my question, about which I am solicitous ? 

Cool. Take a little patience, Sir ; from what 
I have said you might have understood me, if 
you had your thoughts about you ; but I shall 
explain myself to you. Both the good and the 
bad angels have stated times of rendezvous, and 
the principal angels, who have the charge either 
of towns, cities, or kingdoms, not t© mention par- 

tieular persons, villages, and families, and all that 
is transacted in these several parts of the coun- 
try, are there made open : and at their re-encoun- 
ter on each side, every thing is told, as in your 
parish, in milns, kilns, and smithies, with this 
difference that many things false are talked at 
the living re-encounters, but nothing but what 
is exact truth, is said or told among the dead ; 
lonly I must observe to you, that, as I am credit- 
kbly informed, several of the inferior bad angels, 
|and souls of wicked men departed, have told 
any things that they have done, and then when 
more intelligent spirit is sent out upon enquiry, 
d the report of the former seeming doubtful, 
be brings in a contrary report, and makes it ap- 
|)ear truth, the former fares very ill : nevertheless 
eir regard to truth prevents it ; for while they 
ibserve the truth, they do their business and 
eep their station, for God is truth. 
Ogil. So much truth being among the good 
gels, I am apt to think that lies and falsehood 
ill be as much in vogue among the bad. 
Cool. A gross mistake, and it is not alone the 
istake which the living folks fall under with 
spect to the other world ; for the case plainly 
this, an ill man will not stick at a falsehood to 
remote his design ; as little will an evil soul de- 
irted, stop at any thing that can make himself 


successftii ; but m admitting report he m\\%\ tell 
the truth, or woe be to him. But besides theii 
monthly, quarterly, or yearly meetings, or what- 
ever they be, departed souls acquainted, may take 
a trip to see one another yearly, weekly, daily, 
or oftener if they please. Thus then I answei 
your question that you was so much concerned 
about ; for my information was from no less thai 
three persons, viz. Aikman, who attends Thur- 
ston's family; James Corbet, who waits upor 
Mr* Paton ; for at that time he was then look- 
ing after Mrs. Sarah Paton, who was at you: 
house; and an original emissary appointed t< 
wait upon yours. 

At this I was much surprised, and after a lit 
tie thinking, I asked him. And is there really 
Cool, an emissary from hell, in whatever sens* 
you take it, that attends my family ? 

Cool. You may depend upon it. 

Ogil. And what do you think is his business 

Cool. To divert you from your duty, an< 
jause you to do as many ill things as he can ; fo 
much depends on having the minister on thei 

Upon this I was struck with a sort of terroi 
which I cannot account for. In the mean tim 
he said several things I did not understand. Bi) 
after coming to my former presence of mind, saic 


Ogil. But, Cool, tell me in earnest, if there 
be a devil that attends my family, though invis- 

CooL Just as sure as you are breathing, but 
3e not so much dejected upon this information, 
for I tell you likewise, that there is a good angel 
who attends you, who is stronger than the other. 
Ogil. Are you sure of that. Cool ? 
CooL Yes, there is one riding on your right 
^ hand, who might as well have been elsewhere, 
for I meant you no harm. 

Ogil. And how long has he been with me ? 
Cool. Only since we passed Brand's-lee, but 
now he is gone. 

Ogil. Wc are just upon Elenscleugh, and I 
iesire to part with you, though perhaps I have 
rained more by conversation than I could have 
)ther wise done in a twelvemonth ; I choose rath- 
er to see you another time, when you're at leisure 
md I wish it were at as great a distance from 
nnerwick as you can. 
I Cool. Be it so. Sir ; but I hope you will be 
.s obliging to me, next re-encounter, as I have 
>een to you this. 

Ogil. I promise you I will, as far as is con- 
istent with my duty to my Lord and Master 
^Jhrist Jesus : and since you have obliged me so 
uch by information, I will answer all the ques- 


tions you propose, as far as consists with n 
knowledge ; but I believe you want no inform 
tion from me. 

Cool. I came not here to be instructed 1 
you, but I want your help of another kind. 

Upon the 5th of April, 1722, as I was retur 
ing from Old Hamstocks, Cool came up wi 
me on horseback at the foot of the ruinous i 
closure, before we came to Dod ; I told him 1 ' 
last conversation had proved so acceptable to m 
that I was well pleased to see him again ; th ^ 
there was a number of things that I wanted ^ 
inform myself further of, if he would be so go» 
as satisfy me. S 

Cool. Last time we met, I refused you not ^ 
ing you asked ; and now I expect that you shi ' 
refuse me nothing that I shall ask. ' 

Ogil. Nothing, Sir, that is in my power, ^ 
that I can do with safety to my reputation ai ^ 
character. What then are your demands. ^ 

Cool. All that I desire of you is, that as y< ^ 
promised that on a Sabbath day you would { ^ 
to my wife, who now possesses all my effed ^ 
and tell her the following particulars : and U 
her in my name to rectify these matters. Firs ^ 
That I was owing justly to Provost Crosby, 5( ^' 
Scots, and three years interest, but on hearir 
of hii death, my good-brother the Laird of C-^ f 


and I forfifed a discfiarg'ej narrated tlie bond, the 
sum, and other particalars, with this honourable 
clause, " And at the time it had fallen by, and 
could not be found," With an obligation on the 
Provost's part to deliver up this Bond as soon as 
he could hit upon it. And this discharge was 
dated three months before the Provost's death. 
And when his son and successor, Andrew Cros- 
by, wrote to me concerning this Bond, I came 
to him and shewed him the forged discharge, 
which silenced him ; so that I got up my bond 
without more ado. And when I heard of Robert 
Kennedy's death, with the same help of C— 1, I 
got a bill upon him for 1901. of which I got full 
and complete payment, C — 1 got the half. When 
I was at Dumfries, the same day that Robert 
Grier died, to whom I was owing an account of 
361. C — 1, my good-brother, was then at Lon- 
don, and not being able of myself, being but a 
bad writer, to make out a discharge of the ac- 
count, which I wanted, I met accidently with 
one Robert Boyd, a poor Writer lad in Dumfries ; 
I took him to Mrs. Carnock's, and gave him a 
bottle of wine, and told him I had paid Thomas 
Grier's account but had neglected to get a dis- 
charge, and if he would help me to one I would 
reward him. He flew away from me in a great 
passion, saying, he would rather be hanged ; but 


If I had a mind foK these things, 1 liaa better 
wait till C — 1 came home. This gave me great 
trouble, fearina* what C — 1 and I had done for- 
merly was no secret. I followed Boyd to the 
street, and made an apology, saying, I was jest- 
ing, commending him for his honesty, and got 
his promise never to repeat what had passed. I 
sent for my Cousin B — m H — rie, your good- 
brother, who with no difficulty, for a guinea and 
a half, undertook and performed all that I want- 
ed ; and for a guinea more made me up a discharge ^ 
for 2001, Scots that I was owing to your father- ^ 
in-law, and his friend Mr. Muirhead, which dis- 
charge I gave to John Ewart, when he desired 
the money, and he at my desire, produced it to 
you, which you sustained. 

A great many of the like instances were told, ^ 
of which I cannot remember the persons names 
and things ; but, says he, what vexes me more ^ 
than all these, is the injustice I did Homer Max- j 
well, tenant to my Lord Nithsdale, for whom I 

was factor. I borrowed 20001. from him, 5001 ^ 


of which he borrowed from another hand : I gave 
him my bond, and, for reasons I contrived, I ob- 
liged him to secrecy. He died within the year, 
and left nine children, his wife being dead before 
himself. I came to seal up his papers for mj 
hnVs security ; his eldest daughter intreated me 


to look through them all, and to give her an ac- 
count what was their sto^k, and what was their 
debt. I very willingly undertook it, and in go- 
ing through the papers, I put my own bond in 
my pocket. His circumstances proving bad, his 
aine children are now starving. These things I 
desire you to represent to my wife, and take her 
brother with you, and let them be immediately 
rectified, for she has a , 'sufficient fund to do it up- 
on ; and if it were done. I think I would be easy 
and therefore I hope you will make no delay. 

After a short pause, I answered, Tis a good 
errand Cool, you are sending me to do justice to 

' the oppressed and injured ; but notwithstanding 
I see myself come in for 2001. Scots, yet I beg ' 
a little time to consider the matter. And since 

^ I find you are as much master of reason now as 
ever, and more than ever, I will reason upon the 
matter in its general view, and then with respect 
to the expediency of my being the messenger ; 
aud this I will do with all manner of frankness. 
From what you have said, I see clearly what 
your present condition is, so that I need not ask 

* any more questions on that head ; and you need 
not bid me take courage, for at this moment 1 
am no more afraid of you than a newborn child. 
Cool. Well, say on. 

Ogil. Tell me then, since such is your ability 

Bf • 

that you can fly a thousand miles hi the twinkling! ^ 
of an eye, if your desire to do the oppressed jus- in 
cice, be as great as you pretend, what's the reas- ^ 
on you dont fly to the coffers of some rich Jew ce 
or Banker, where are thousands of gold and sil- n 
ver, invisibly left, and invisibly return it to the i 
eoffers of the injured ? And since your wife has » 
sufficient fund, and more, why cannot you empty t 
her purse invisibly, to make these people amends, i 

Cool. Because I cannot. %. 

Ogil. You have satisfied me entirely upon a 
that head. But pray, Cool, what is the reason % 
that you cannot go to your wdfe yourself, and t 
tell her what you have a mind ; I should think i 
this a more sure way to gain your point. 1 

Cool. Because I will not. 

Ogil. That is not an answer to me, Cool, i 

Cool. That is one of the questions that I told 
you long ago I would not answer : but if you go 
as I desire, I promise to give you full satisfaction 
after you have done your business. Trust me 
for once, and believe me I will not disappoint 

Upon the IGth of April, 1722, comiwg from 
Old Cambus, upon the post road, I met with 
Cool on the head of the heath called the Pees. 
He asked me, if I had considered the matter he 
had recommended ? I told him I had, and was m 


the same opinion I was in when we parted ; that 
I would not possibly undertake his commissions, 
unless he eould give me them in writing under 
his hand. I told him that the list of his grievan- 
ces were so great, that I could not possibly re- 
member them without being put in writing ; and 
that I wanted nothing but reason to determine 
me in that, and all other affairs of my life. — I 
know, says he, this is a mere evasion : but tell 
me if the Laird of Thurston will do it ? I am sure, 
said I, he will not : and if he should, I would do 
all that I could to hinder him ; for I think he has 
as little to do in these matters as myself. But 
tell me, Cool, Is it not as easy to write your sto- 
ry as tell it, or ride on what-do-ye-call-him ? for 
I have forgot your horse's name^ 

Cool. No, Sir, it is not ; and perhaps I may 
convince you of the reasonableness of it after- 

Ogil. I would be glad to hear a reason that 
is solid, for not speaking to your wife yourself, 
but, however, any rational creature may see what 
a fool I would make of myself, if I would go to 
Dumfries, and tell your wife you had appeared 
to me, and told so many forgeries and villanies 
that you had commited, and that she behoved to 
make reparation ; the consequence might perhaps 
be, that she would scold me ; for she would be 


loath to part with any money she possesses, and 
therefore tell me I was mad, or possibly pursue 
me for calumny ; how would I vindicate myself, 
how could I prove that you ever spoke with me? 
Mr. Paton, and other ministers, in Dumfries 
would tell me, the devil had spoken with me ; and 
why should I repeat these things for truth, which 
he, that was a liar from the beginning, had told 
me ; C — ^p — 1 and B — r H — rie would be upon 
me, and pursue me before the Commissary ; every 
body would look upon me as brain-sick or mad i 
therefore I entreat you do not insist upon send- 
ing me so ridiculous an errand. The reasonable- 
ness of my demands I leave to your own consider- 
ation, as you did your former to mine. But drop- 
ping the matter till out next interview, give me 
leave to enter upon some more diverting subject : 
I do not know, Cool, but the information you 
have given, may do as much service to mankind, 
as the redress of all these grievances would a- 
mount to.