He was young and gay, loved magnificence and the pomp of courts, and was
far from being insensible of those joys which the conversation of the
fair sex affords; but had never so much enslaved his reason to any one
pleasure, as not to be able to refrain it. Hunting and reading were very
favourite amusements with him, so that the solitude he now was in was
not at all disagreeable or tedious to him, tho' he continued in it
some months.

A little time before his departure an accident happened, which gave him
an opportunity of exercising the benevolence of his disposition; and,
tho' it then seemed trivial to him, proved of the utmost consequence to
his future life, as well as furnished matter for the following pages.

As he was walking pretty early one morning in his garden, very intent on
a book he had in his hand, his meditations were interrupted by an
unusual cry, which seemed at some distance; but as he approached a
little arbour, where he was sometimes accustomed to sit, he heard more
plain and distinct, and on his entrance was soon convinced whence it
proceeded.

Just at the foot of a large tree, the extensive boughs of which greatly
contributed to form the arbour, was placed a basket closely covered on
the one side, and partly open on the other to let in the air. Tho' the
sounds which still continued to issue from it left Dorilaus no room to
doubt what it contained; he stooped down to look, and saw two beautiful
babes neatly dressed in swadling cloaths: between them and the pillow
they were laid upon was pinned a paper, which he hastily taking off,
found in it these words.