But my fellow-traveller and I had different notions:  I do not name this to insist upon my own, for I acknowledge his was most just, and the most suited to the end of a merchant’s life; who, when he is abroad upon adventures, it is his wisdom to stick to that, as the best thing for him, which he is like to get the most money by.  My new friend kept himself to the nature of the thing, and would have been content to have gone, like a carrier’s horse, always to the same inn, backward and forward, provided he could, as he called it, find his account in it:  on the other hand, mine, as old as I was, was the notion of a mad rambling boy, that never cares to see a thing twice over.

But this was not all:  I had a kind of impatience upon me to be nearer home, and yet the most unsettled resolution imaginable, which way to go.  In the interval of these consultations, my friend, who was always upon the search for business, proposed another voyage to me, viz. among the Spice Islands; and to bring home a load of cloves from the Manillas, or thereabouts; places where, indeed, the Dutch do trade, but the islands belong partly to the Spaniards; though we went not so far, but to some other, where they have not the whole power as they have at Batavia, Ceylon, &c.  We were not long in preparing for this voyage; the chief difficulty was in bringing me to come into it; however, at last, nothing else offering, and finding that really stirring about and trading, the profit being so great, and, as I may say, certain, had more pleasure in it, and more satisfaction to the mind, than sitting still; which, to me especially, was the unhappiest part of life, I resolved on this voyage too:  which we made very successfully, touching at Borneo, and several islands, whose names I do not remember, and came home in about five months.  We sold our spice, which was chiefly cloves, and some nutmegs, to the Persian merchants, who carried them away for the Gulf; and, making near five of one, we really got a great deal of money.

My friend, when we made up this account, smiled at me:  “Well now,” said he, with a sort of an agreeable insult upon my indolent temper, “is not this better than walking about here, like a man of nothing to do, and spending our time in staring at the nonsense and ignorace of the Pagans?”—­“Why truly,” said I, “my friend, I think it is; and I begin to be a convert to the principles of merchandising.  But I must tell you,” said I, “by the way, you do not know what I am doing; for if once I conquer my backwardness, and embark heartily, as old as I am, I shall harass you up and down the world till I tire you; for I shall pursue it so eagerly, I shall never let you lie still.”