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 Illustrated by Hugh Thomson.
 
 JlJ^ y%£A ^'£ (o\^Rj^EY-
 
 SiK Roger 
 
 3eciaion 
 
 London : 
 MACMILLAN & CO. 
 
 AND NEIV YOKA'. 
 1886.
 
 Richard Clay and Sons, London and Bungav.
 
 36 f 
 
 h 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAdE 
 
 SIR Roger's family i 
 
 MR. WILLIAM WIMBLE lO 
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY 19 
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY jO 
 
 THE WIDOW 38 
 
 THE CHASE 50 
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES 63 
 
 THE spectator's RETURN TO TOWN 74
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 DANCING "SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY." Frontispiece 
 
 "I HAVE OBSERVED THEM STEALING A SIGHT OF ME OVER AN HEDGE.'' 3 
 
 THE GRAY PAD 5 
 
 SIR ROGER ARRIVES AT THE HOUSE 6 
 
 THE VILLAGE COURT OF ASSIZE 7 
 
 SIR Roger's chaplain • S 
 
 SIR ROGER ON THE BOWLING GREEN 12 
 
 WILL WIMBLE IN THE HUNTING FIELD Ij 
 
 WILL WIMBLE WITH THE PUPPIES 15 
 
 THE STORY OF THE GARTERS 1 6 
 
 HOW THE JACK WAS CAUGHT 17 
 
 "DRESSED AFTER THIS MANNER." 20 
 
 SIR ROGER'S ANCESTOR AT THE TURNAMENT 22 
 
 " KNOCKED DOWN TWO DEER-STEALERS IN CARRYING HER OFF " . . 24 
 
 SIR ROGER'S ANCESTOR INVENTS A NEW MODE OF MAKING LOVE 26 
 
 "THE DAY BEFORE THE BATTLE OF WORCESTER." 2S 
 
 THE WEEKLY INSTRUCTION IN THE TUNES OF THE PSALMS ... 3' 
 
 SIR ROGER STANDS UP TO COUNT THE CONGREGATION . . 32 
 
 JOHN MATTHEWS "... 33 
 
 SIR ROGER AND HIS TENANTS 3 + 
 
 CATECHIZING DAY },^ 
 
 THE SQUIRE OF THE NEXT PARISH 37 
 
 THE GROVE SACRED TO THE WIDOW 4° 
 
 "THE KIND LOOKS AND GLANCES." 41 
 
 "SHE CAST HER BEWITCHING EYE UPON ME." 42
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "WITH SUCH AN AWE AS MADE ME SPEECHLESS." 45 
 
 "HAS DIRECTED A DISCOURSE TO ME WHICH I DO NOT UNDERSTAND." 47 
 
 "I AM, MY LOVELY N.-EVIA, EVER THINE." 49 
 
 THE GRAY STONE-HORSE • 52 
 
 "THE MOST EXCELLENT BASE." 53 
 
 "HAPPY IF THEY COULD OPEN A GATE." 55 
 
 "IF PUSS WAS GONE THAT WAY?" • 57 
 
 "'twas a WONDER THEY HAD NOT LOST ALL THEIR SPORT." 58 
 
 "AN OLD HOUND OF REPUTATION." 59 
 
 A NOTED LIAR 59 
 
 "WITH ALL THE GAIETY OF FIVE AND TWENTY." 60 
 
 SIR ROGER TAKES US TO THE ASSIZES 64 
 
 "THE TWO PLAIN MEN WHO RID BEFORE US " 65 
 
 AN HONEST YEOMAN 65 
 
 TOM TOUCHY 66 
 
 WILL WIMBLE 67 
 
 THE WIDOW CONSULTS HER LAWYER ANENT TOM TOUCHY 68 
 
 "a GENERAL WHISPER RAN THROUGH THE COUNTRY PEOPLE THAT SIR ROGER WAS UP " 69 
 
 "we STOPPED AT A LITTLE INN TO REST OURSELVES AND OUR HORSES." 70 
 
 INSPECTING "HIS HONOUR'S HEAD WITH THE ALTERATIONS HE HAD ORDERED TO BE 
 
 MADE IN IT." 71 
 
 MUCH "might" BE SAID ON BOTH SIDES 72 
 
 FAREWELL 75 
 
 OUR SETTING OUT 77 
 
 "YOU SEE ME, MADAM, YOUNG, SOUND, AND impudent" 78 
 
 " OUR RECKONINGS FELL UNDER EPHRAIM " 80 
 
 THE SPECTATOR IN TOWN 82
 
 ^^x^r^ 
 
 AVING often received an invitation from my 
 friend Sir Roger de Coverlev to pass away 
 a month with him in the country, I last week 
 accompanied him thither, and am settled with 
 him for some time at his country-house, where I intend to 
 form several of my ensuing Speculations. Sir Roger, who is 
 very well acquainted wnth my humour, lets me rise and go to 
 bed when I please, dine at his own table or in my chamber as I 
 think fit, sit still and say nothing without bidding me be merry. 
 When the gentlemen of the country come to see him, he only 
 shews me at a distance : As I have been walking- in his fields 
 I have observed them stealing a sight of me over an hedge, 
 and have heard the Knight desiring them not to let me see 
 them, for that I hated to be stared at.
 
 2 SIR ROGER'S FAMILY. 
 
 I am the more at ease in Sir Roger's family, because it 
 consists of sober and staid persons ; for as the Knight is the 
 best master in the world, he seldom changes his servants ; and 
 as he is beloved by all about him, his servants never care for 
 leaving him ; by this means his domesticks are all in years, and 
 grown old with their master. You would take his valet de chambre 
 for his brother, his butler is gray-headed, his groom is one 
 of the gravest men that I have ever seen, and his coachman 
 has the looks of a privy-counsellor. You see the goodness 
 of the master even in the old house-dog, and in a gray pad 
 that is kept in the stable with great care and tenderness out 
 of regard to his past services, tho' he has been useless for 
 several years. 
 
 I could not but observe with a great deal of pleasure the 
 
 joy that appeared in the countenance of these ancient domesticks 
 
 upon my friend's arrival at his country seat. Some of them 
 
 could not refrain from tears at the sight of their old master ; 
 
 every one of them press'd forward to do something for him, 
 
 and seemed discouraged if they were not employed. At the 
 
 same time the good old Knight, with a mixture of the father 
 
 and the master of the family, tempered the enquiries after his 
 
 own affairs with several kind questions relating to themselves. 
 
 This humanity and good-nature engages every body to him, so 
 
 that when he is pleasant upon any of them, all his family are 
 
 in good humour, and none so much as the person whom he 
 
 diverts himself with : On the contrary, if he coughs, or betrays
 
 SIR ROGER'S FAMILY. 
 
 any infirmity of old age, it is easy for a stander-by to observe 
 a secret concern in the looks of all his servants. 
 
 
 T ^-u 
 
 "I HAVE OBSERVED THEM STEALING A SIGHT OF ME OVER AN HEDGE." 
 
 My worthy friend has put me under the particular care ol 
 his butler, who is a very prudent man, and, as well as the rest 
 of his fellow-servants, wonderfully desirous of pleasing me. 
 because they have often heard their master talk of me as of 
 his particular friend.
 
 SIR ROGER'S FAMILY. 
 
 My chief companion, when Sir Roger is diverting himself 
 in the woods or the fields, is a very venerable man who is ever 
 with Sir Roger, and has lived at his house in the nature of a 
 chaplain above thirty years. This gentleman is a person of 
 good sense and some learning, of a very regular life and 
 obliging conversation : He heartily loves Sir Roger, and knows 
 that he is very much in the old Knight's esteem, so that he 
 lives in the family rather as a relation than a dependent. 
 
 I have observed in several of my papers, that my friend 
 Sir Roger, amidst all his good qualities, is something of an 
 humorist ; and that his virtues, as well as imperfections, are as 
 it were tinged by a certain extravagance, which makes them 
 particularly his, and distinguishes them from those of other men. 
 This cast of mind, as it is generally very innocent in itself, so 
 it renders his conversation highly agreeable, and more delightful 
 than the same degree of sense and virtue would appear in their 
 common and ordinary colours. As I was walking with him last 
 night, he asked me how I liked the good man whom I have 
 just now mentioned .^ and without staying for my answer told 
 me. That he was afraid of being insulted with Latin and Greek 
 at his own table ; for which reason he desired a particular friend 
 of his at the University to find him out a clergyman rather of 
 plain sense than much learning, of a good aspect, a clear voice, 
 a sociable temper, and, if possible, a man that understood a little 
 of back-gammon. My friend, says Sir Roger, found me out 
 this gentleman, who, besides the endowments required of him,
 
 SIR ROGER'S FAMIL\' 
 
 is, they tell me, a good scholar, tho' he does not shew it : 1 
 have given him the parsonage of the parish ; and because I 
 
 .TTmtiF^^v^'- 
 
 THE GRAY PAD. 
 
 know his value, have settled upon him a good annuity for life. 
 If he outlives me, he shall find that he was higher in my esteem 
 than perhaps he thinks he is. He has now been with me
 
 SIR ROGER'S FAMILY. 
 
 thirty years ; and tho' he does not know I have taken notice of 
 it, has never in all that time asked any thing of me for himself, 
 tho' he is every day soliciting me for some thing in behalf of 
 
 SIR ROGER ARRIVES AT THE HOUSE. 
 
 one or other of my tenants his parishioners. There has not 
 been a law-suit in the parish since he has liv'd among them : 
 If any dispute arises they apply themselves to him for the 
 decision ; if they do not acquiesce in his judgment, which I 
 think never happened above once or twice at most, they appeal
 
 SIR ROGER'S FAMII.Y. 
 
 to me. At his first settling with me, I made him a present of 
 all the good sermons which have been printed in English, 
 and only begg'd of him that every Siuiday he would pronounce 
 one of them in the pulpit. Accordingly, he has digested them 
 
 'cMiiiiilur. 
 
 THE VILLAGE COURT OF ASSIZE. 
 
 into such a series, that they follow one another naturally, and 
 make a continued system of practical divinity. 
 
 As Sir Roger was going on in his story, the gentleman 
 we were talking of came up to us ; and upon the Knight's 
 asking him who preached to-morrow (for it was Saturday night) 
 told us, the Bishop of St. Asaph in the morning, and Dr. South
 
 SIR ROGER'S FAMILY. 
 
 in the afternoon. He then shewed us his hst of preachers for 
 the whole year, where I saw with a great deal of pleasure 
 Archbishop Tillotson, Bishop Saiinderson, Dr. Barrow, Dr. Calamy, 
 with several living authors who have published discourses of 
 
 SIR ROGER S CHAPLAIN. 
 
 practical divinity, I no sooner saw this venerable man in the 
 pulpit, but I very much approved of my friend's insisting upon 
 the qualifications of a good aspect and a clear voice ; for I was 
 so charmed with the gracefulness of his figure and delivery, as
 
 SIR ROGER'S FAMILY. 
 
 well as with the discourses he pronounced, that I think I never 
 passed any time more to my satisfaction, A sermon repeated 
 after this manner, is like the composition of a poet in the mouth 
 of a graceful actor. 
 
 I could heartily wish that more of our country-clergy 
 would follow this example ; and instead of wasting their spirits 
 in laborious compositions of their own, would endeavour after a 
 handsome elocution, and all those other talents that are proper 
 to enforce what has been penned by greater masters. This 
 would not only be more easy to themselves, but more edifying 
 to the people.
 
 WAS yesterday 
 morning walking 
 with Sir Roger before his house, a country-fellow brought him a 
 huge fish, which, he told him, Mr. William Wimble had caught 
 that very morning ; and that he presented it, with his service to 
 him, and intended to come and dine with him. At the same 
 time he delivered a letter which my friend read to me as 
 soon as the messencrer left him. 
 
 " Sir Roger, 
 " I Desire you to accept of a jack, which is the best I 
 have caught this season. I intend to come and stay with you 
 a week, and see how the perch bite in the Black River. 1
 
 MR. WILL WIMBLE. ii 
 
 observed with some concern, the last time I saw you upon 
 the bowHng-green, that your whip wanted a lash to it ; I will 
 brine half a dozen wnth me that I twisted last week, which I 
 hope will serve you all the time you are in the country. I 
 have not been out of the saddle for six days last past, having 
 been at Eaton with Sir Johiis eldest son. He takes to his 
 learning hugely. 
 
 " I am, 
 
 " SIR, your Jiunible sct'vant, 
 
 " Will Wimble." 
 
 This extraordinary letter, and message that accompanied it, 
 made me very curious to know the character and quality of 
 the gentleman who sent them ; w^hlch I found to be as 
 follows. Will Wimble is younger brother to a baronet, and 
 descended of the ancient family of the Wimbles. He is now 
 between forty and fifty ; but being bred to no business and 
 born to no estate, he generally lives with his elder brother as 
 superintendent of his game. He hunts a pack of dogs better 
 than any man in the country, and is very famous for finding 
 out a hare. He is extremely well versed in all the little 
 handicrafts of an idle man : he makes a Ulay-fly to a miracle ; 
 and furnishes the whole country with angle-rods. As he is 
 a good-natur'd officious fellow, and very much esteem'd upon 
 account of his family, he is a welcome guest at every house, 
 and keeps up a good correspondence among all the gentlemen
 
 MR. WILL WIMBLE. 
 
 about him. He carries a tulip-root in his pocket from one to 
 another, or exchanges a puppy between a couple of friends 
 
 
 
 ^tS&»4i.vr@re«n, 
 
 SIR ROGER ON THE BOWLING GREEN. 
 
 that live perhaps in the opposite sides of the county. /^V// is a 
 particular favourite of all the young heirs, whom he frequently 
 obliges with a net that he has weaved, or a setting-dog that
 
 MR. WILL WIMBLE. 
 
 13 
 
 he has made himself. He now and then presents a pair of 
 garters of his own knitting to their mothers or sisters ; and 
 raises a great deal of mirth among them, by enquiring as often 
 as he meets them Jiow they wear I These gentleman-like 
 manufactures and obliging little humours make Will the 
 darling of the country. 
 
 .^i^^^-- 
 
 
 WII.I, WIMBLE IN THE HUNTING FIELD. 
 
 Sir Roger was proceeding in the character of him, when 
 we saw him make up to us with two or three hazle-twigs in 
 his hand that he had cut in Sir Roger's woods, as he came 
 through them, in his way to the house. I was very much 
 pleased to observe on one side the hearty and sincere welcome 
 with which Sir Roger received him. and on the other, the
 
 14 • MR. WILL WLMBLE. 
 
 secret joy which his guest chscover'd at sight of the good old 
 Knight. After the first sakites were over, Will desired Sir 
 Roger to lend him one of his servants to carry a set of shuttle- 
 cocks he had with him in a little box to a lady that lived 
 about a mile off, to whom it seems he had promised such 
 a present for above this half year. Sir Roger's back was no 
 sooner turned but honest Will began to tell me of a large 
 cock-pheasant that he had sprung in one of the neighbouring 
 woods, with two or three other adventures of the same nature. 
 Odd and uncommon characters are the game I looked for, and 
 most delight in ; for which reason I was as much pleased with the 
 novelty of the person that talked to me, as he could be for his 
 life with the springing of a pheasant, and therefore listen'd to 
 him with more than ordinary attention. 
 
 In the midst of his discourse the bell rung to dinner, where 
 the gentleman I have been speaking of had the pleasure of 
 seeing the huge jack he had caught, served up for the first 
 dish in a most sumptuous manner. Upon our sitting down to 
 it he gave us a long account how he had hooked it, played 
 with it, foiled it, and at length drew it out upon the bank, 
 with several other particulars that lasted all the first course. 
 A dish of wild fowl that came afterwards furnished conversa- 
 tion for the rest of the dinner, which concluded with a late 
 invention of WilVs for improving the quail-pipe. 
 
 Upon withdrawing into my room after dinner, I was secretly 
 touched with compassion towards the honest gentleman that
 
 MR. WILL WIMBLE. 
 
 'rll 
 
 ^J 
 
 J§^^^0^ 
 
 JMm 
 
 r^ZAS 
 
 / 
 
 
 wii.i. wimhi.e with the rurriKS. 
 
 had dined with us ; and could not but consider with a great 
 deal of concern, how so good an heart and such busy hands
 
 i6 
 
 MR. WILL WIMBLE. 
 
 were wholly employed in trifles ; that so much humanity should 
 be so little beneficial to others, and so much industry so little 
 
 Till". STORY OF THE GARTERS. 
 
 advantageous to himself. The same temper of mind and 
 application to affairs might have recommended him to the 
 publick esteem, and have raised his fortune in another station
 
 MR. WILL WIMBLi:. 
 
 17 
 
 
 HOW THE JACK WAS CAUGHT. 
 
 of life. What good to his country or himself might not a 
 trader or merchant have done with such useful tho' ordinary 
 qualifications ? 
 
 D
 
 1 8 MR. WILL WIMBLE. 
 
 IVill Wimble s is the case of many a younger brother of a 
 great family, who had rather see their children starve like 
 gentlemen, than thrive in a trade or profession that is beneath 
 their quality. This humour fills several parts of Europe with 
 pride and beggary. It is the happiness of a trading nation, like 
 ours, that the younger sons, tho' uncapable of any liberal art 
 or profession, may be placed in such a way of life, as may 
 perhaps enable them to vie with the best of their family : 
 Accordingly we find several citizens that were launched into 
 the world with narrow fortunes, rising by an honest industry 
 to greater estates than those of their elder brothers. It is 
 not improbable but Will was formerly tried at divinity, law, 
 or physick ; and that finding his genius did not lie that way, 
 his parents gave him up at length to his own inventions. 
 But certainly, however improper he might have been for 
 studies of a higher nature, he was perfectly well turned for 
 the occupations of trade and commerce. As I think this is a 
 point which cannot be too much inculcated, I shall desire my 
 reader to compare what I have here written with what I 
 have said in my twenty-first speculation.
 
 WAS this morning walking in the 
 
 gallery when Sir Roger entered at 
 
 the end opposite to me, and ad- 
 
 ancinor towards me, said he was elad 
 
 to meet me among his relations the dh 
 
 CovERLEvs, and hoped I liked the conversation of so much good 
 
 compan}', who were as silent as myself. I knew he alluded to 
 
 the pictures, and as he is a gentleman who does not a little value
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 21 
 
 himself upon his ancient descent, I expected he would give me 
 some account of them. We were now arrived at the upper-end 
 of the gallery, when the Knight faced towards one of the 
 pictures, and as we stood before it, he entered into the matter, 
 after his blunt way of saying things, as they occur to his 
 imagination, without regular introduction, or care to preserve 
 the appearance of chain of thought. 
 
 " It is," said he, "worth while to consider the force of dress ; 
 and how the persons of one age differ from those of another, 
 merely by that only. One may observe also, that the general 
 fashion of one age has been followed by one particular set of 
 people in another, and by them preserved from one generation 
 to another. Thus the vast jetting coat and small bonnet, which 
 was the habit in Harry the seventh's time is kept on in the 
 yeomen of the guard ; not without a good aad politick view, 
 because they look a foot taller, and a foot and an half broader; 
 Besides that the cap leaves the face expanded, and consequently 
 more terrible, and fitter to stand at the entrances of palaces. 
 
 " This predecessor of ours, you see, is dressed after this 
 manner, and his cheeks would be no larger than mine, were he in 
 a hat as I am. He was the last man that won a prize in the 
 tilt-yard (which is now a common street before Whitehall). Vou 
 see the broken lance that lies there by his right foot ; he 
 shiver'd that lance of his adversary all to pieces ; and bearing, 
 himself, look you. Sir, in this manner, at the same time he 
 came within the taroet of the orentlcman who rode acjainst him,
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 SIR ROGERS AN'CESTOR AT THE TURXAMENT. 
 
 and taking him with incredible force before him on the pommel 
 of his saddle, he in that manner rid the turnament over, with
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 23 
 
 an air that shewed he did it rather to perfoi'm the rule of the 
 lists, than expose his enemy ; however, it appeared he knew how 
 to make use of a victory, and with a gentle trot he marched 
 up to a gallery where their mistress sat (for they were rivals) 
 and let him down with laudable courtesy and pardonable in- 
 solence. I don't know but it might be exactly where the coffee- 
 house is now. 
 
 "You are to know this my ancestor was not only of a 
 military genius, but fit also for the arts of peace, for he played 
 on the bass-viol as well as any gentleman at court ; you see 
 where his viol hangs by his basket-hilt sword. The action at 
 the tilt-yard you may be sure won the fair lady, who was a 
 maid of honour, and the greatest beauty of her time ; here she 
 stands the next picture. You see, Sir, my great great great 
 grandmother has on the new-fashion'd petticoat, except that the 
 modern is gather'd at the waist ; my grandmother appears as 
 if she stood in a large drum, whereas the ladies now walk as 
 if they were in a go-cart. For all this lady was bred at court, 
 she became an excellent country wife, she brought ten children, 
 and when I shew you the library, you shall see in her own 
 hand (allowing for the difference of the language) the best 
 receipt now in England both for an hasty-pudding and a white-pot. 
 
 "If you please to fall l^ack a little, because 'tis necessary 
 to look at the three next pictures at one view ; these are three 
 sisters. She on the right hand, who is so very beautiful, died 
 a maid ; the next to her, still handsomer, had the same fate,
 
 24 
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 / "> 
 
 
 
 ^ f^f 
 
 
 
 against her will ; this homely thing in the middle had both their 
 portions added to her own, and was stolen by a neighbouring
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 25 
 
 gentleman, a man of stratagem and resolution, for he poisoned 
 three mastiffs to come at her, and knocked down two deer- 
 stealers in carrying her off. Misfortunes happen in all families : 
 The theft of this romp and so much money, was no great 
 matter to our estate. But the next heir that possessed it was 
 this soft gentleman, whom you see there : Observe the small 
 buttons, the little boots, the laces, the slashes about his clothes, 
 and above all the posture he is drawn in (which to be sure was 
 his own choosing) ; you see he sits with one hand on a desk 
 writing and looking as it were another way, like an easy writer, 
 or a sonneteer : He w^as one of those that had too much wit 
 to know how to live in the world ; he was a man of no 
 justice, but great good manners ; he ruined every body that 
 had any thing to do with him, but never said a rude thing 
 in his life ; the most indolent person in the world, he would 
 sign a deed that passed away half his estate with his gloves 
 on, but would not put on his hat before a lady if it were to 
 save his country. He is said to be the first that made love 
 by squeezing the hand. He left the estate with ten thousand 
 pounds debt upon it, but however by all hands I have been 
 informed that he was every way the finest gentleman in the 
 world. That debt lay heavy on our house for one generation, 
 but it was retrieved by a gift from that honest man you see 
 there, a citizen of our name, but nothing at all akin to us. 
 I know Sir Andrew Freeport had said behind my back, that 
 this man was descended from one of the ten children of the 
 
 E
 
 26 
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 maid of honour I shewed you above ; but it was never made 
 
 SIR ROGERS ANCESTOR INVENTS A NEW MODE OF MAKING LOVE. 
 
 out. We winked at the thing indeed, because money was 
 wanting at that time."
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 27 
 
 Here I saw my friend a little embarrassed, and turned my 
 face to the next portraiture. 
 
 Sir Roger went on with his account of the gallery in the 
 following manner. " This man (pointing to him I looked at) 
 I take to be the honour of our house. Sir Humphrey de 
 CovERLEY ; he was in his dealings as punctual as a tradesman 
 and as orenerous as a o-entleman. He would have thouo-ht 
 himself as much undone by breaking his word, as if it were to 
 be followed by bankruptcy. He served his country as knight 
 of this shire to his dying day. He found it no easy matter to 
 maintain an integrity in his words and actions, even in things 
 that regarded the offices which were incumbent upon him. in 
 the care of his own affairs and relations of life, and therefore 
 dreaded (though he had great talents) to go into employments 
 of state, where he must be exposed to the snares of ambition. 
 Innocence of life and great ability were the distinguishing 
 parts of his character ; the latter, he had often observed, had 
 led to the destruction of the former, and used frequently 
 to lament that great and good had not the same signification. 
 He was an excellent husbandman, but had resolved not to 
 exceed such a degree of wealth ; all above it he bestowed in 
 secret bounties many years after the sum he aimed at tor 
 his own use was attained. Yet he did not slacken his in- 
 dustry, but to a decent old age spent the life and fortune 
 which was superfluous to himself, in the service of his friends 
 and neio^hbours."
 
 28 
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 Here we were called to dinner, and Sir Roger ended the 
 discourse of this gentleman, by telling me, as we followed the 
 
 'i*^ ^Vorce5(.rr' 
 
 servant, that this his ancestor was a brave man, and narrowly 
 escaped being killed in the civil wars ; " For," said he, "he was 
 sent out of the field upon a private message, the day before
 
 THE PICTURE GALLERY. 
 
 29 
 
 the battle of Worcester.'' The whim of narrowly escaping by 
 having been within a day of clanger, with other matters above 
 mentioned, mixed with good sense, left me at a loss whether I 
 was more delighted with my friend's wisdom or simplicity. 
 
 mikm
 
 ''^■r%r' 
 
 w 
 
 6vIIi always very well pleased with a country 
 Sunday, and think, if keeping holy the seventh 
 day were only a human institution, it would 
 be the best method that could have been 
 thought of for the polishing and civilizing 
 of mankind. It is certain the country people 
 rould soon degenerate into a kind of savages and barbarians, 
 were there not such frequent returns of a stated time, in which 
 the whole village meet together with their best faces, and in 
 their cleanliest habits, to converse with one another upon in- 
 different subjects, hear their duties explained to them, and join 
 together in adoration of the Supreme Being. Sunday clears 
 away the rust of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in 
 their minds the notions of religion, but as it puts both the 
 sexes upon appearing in their most agreeable forms, and exerting
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY. 
 
 all such qualities as are apt to give them a figure in the eye 
 of the village. A country-fellow distinguishes himself as much 
 in the Church-yard, as a citizen does upon the Change, the 
 whole parish-politicks being generally discussed in that place 
 either after sermon or before the bell rings. 
 
 :. 3J 
 
 -Yhe\^^eEy^iiy''ti"iict1on-in-the7uTi^ of thepalTTij 
 
 My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, has 
 beautified the inside of his church with several texts of his 
 own choosing : He has likewise given a handsome pulpit-cloth, 
 and railed in the communion-table at his own expense. He 
 has often told me, that at his coming to his estate he found
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY. 
 
 his parishioners very irregular ; and that in order to make 
 them kneel and join in their responses, he gave every one of 
 them a hassock and a common-prayer-book : and at the same 
 time employed an itinerant singing-master, vvho goes about 
 
 SIR ROGER STANDS UP TO COUNT THE CONGREGATION 
 
 the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in the 
 tunes of the psalms ; upon which they now very much 
 value themselves, and indeed outdo most of the country 
 churches that I have ever heard.
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY. 
 
 33 
 
 As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he 
 keeps them in very good order, and will suffer no body to 
 sleep in it besides himself ; for if by chance he has been 
 surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of 
 it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees any body 
 else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants 
 
 ^^j^.;.^=r. 
 
 
 JOHN MATTHEWS. 
 
 ^^^ to them. Several other 
 ■■:^^^ of the old Kniorht's 
 particularities break out upon these 
 ^'•' occasions: Sometimes he will be 
 lengthening out a verse in the singing- 
 psalms, half a minute after the rest 
 of the congregation have done with it ; sometimes, when he 
 is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he pronounces 
 Amen three or four times to the same prayer ; and sometimes 
 stands up when every body else is upon their knees, to count 
 the congregation, or see if any of his tenants are missing. 
 
 F
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY. 
 
 SIR ROGER AND IIIS TENANTS. 
 
 I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, 
 in the midst of the service, calling out to one John Matthews
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY. 35 
 
 to mind what he was about, and not disturb the congregation. 
 This John Mattheivs it seems is remarkable for being an idle 
 fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for his diversion. 
 This authority of the Knight, though exerted in that odd 
 manner which accompanies him in all circumstances of life, has 
 a very good effect upon the parish, who are not polite 
 enough to see any thing ridiculous in his behaviour ; besides 
 that the general Qrood sense and worthiness of his character 
 makes his friends observe these little singularities as foils 
 that rather set off than blemish his good qualities. 
 
 As soon as the sermon is finished, no body presumes to 
 stir till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The Knight 
 walks down froni his seat in the chancel between a double row 
 of his tenants, that stand bowing to him on each side ; and 
 every now and then enquires how such an one's wife, or mother, 
 or son, or father do, whom he does not see at church ; which is 
 understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent. 
 
 The chaplain has often told me, that upon a catechising- 
 day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that 
 answers well, he has ordered a Bible to be given him next day 
 for his encouragement ; and sometimes accompanies it with a 
 flitch of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has likewise added 
 five pounds a year to the clerk's place ; and that he may 
 encourage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the 
 church service, has promised upon the death of the present 
 incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it according to merit.
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY. 
 
 The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chap- 
 lain, and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more 
 remarkable, because the very next village is famous for the 
 differences and contentions that rise between the parson and the 
 
 'squire, who live in a perpetual state of war. The parson is always 
 preaching at the 'squire, and the 'squire to be revenged on the 
 parson never comes to church. The 'squire has made all his 
 tenants atheists and tithc-stealers ; while the parson instructs
 
 A COUNTRY SUNDAY. 
 
 then-i every Sunday in the dignity of his order, and insinuates 
 to them in ahiiost every sermon, that he is a better man than 
 his patron. In short, matters are come to such an extremity, 
 
 that the 'squire has not said his 
 prayers either in pubhck or private 
 this half year ; and that the parson 
 threatens him, if he does not ; 
 mend his manners, to pray ^ ^. 
 for him in the face of the VL^l" AK^ 
 whole conp-regfation. -ilil^ 
 
 Feuds of this nature, _'' 
 thouorh too frequent in the "^/^ '^'W^^V^i^^ _ 
 country, are very fatal to "^ ''''''^' ''^'^^^ 
 the ordinary people ; who Q"<^oaivecf5>/n€yt^'s=*^5/ 
 are so used to be dazzled 
 
 with riches, that they pay as much deference to the under- 
 standing of a man of an estate, as of a man of learning ; and 
 are very hardly brought to regard any truth, how important 
 soever it may be, that is preached to them, when they know 
 there are several men of five hundred a year who do not 
 believe it.
 
 IN my first description of the company in which I pass most 
 of my time, it may be remembered-'.-that I mentioned a 
 great affliction which my friend Sir Roger had met with in 
 his youth ; which was no less than a disappointment in love. 
 It happened this evening that we fell into a very pleasing 
 walk at a distance from his house : As soon as we came into 
 it, " It is," quoth the good old man, looking round him with a 
 smile, "very hard, that any part of my land should be settled
 
 THE WIDOW. 39 
 
 upon one who has used me so ill as the perverse widow did ; 
 and yet I am sure I could not see a sprig of any bough of 
 this whole walk of trees, but I should reflect upon her and 
 her severity. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman 
 in the world. You are to know this was the place wherein 
 I used to muse upon her ; and by that custom I can never 
 come into it, but the same tender sentiments revive in my 
 mind, as if I had actually walked with that beautiful 
 creature under these shades. I have been fool enough to 
 carve her name on the bark of several of these trees ; so 
 unhappy is the condition of men in love, to attempt the 
 removing of their passions by the methods which serve only 
 to imprint it deeper. She has certainly the finest hand of 
 any w^oman in the world." 
 
 Here followed a profound silence ; and I was not displeased 
 to observe my friend falling so naturally into a discourse, which 
 I had ever before taken notice he industriously avoided. After 
 a very long pause he entered upon an account of this great 
 circumstance in his life, with an air which I thought raised my 
 idea of him above what I had ever had before ; and gave me 
 the picture of that chearful mind of his, before it received that 
 stroke which has ever since affected his words and actions. But 
 he went on as follows : 
 
 " I came to my estate in my twenty-second year, and 
 resolved to follow the steps of the most worthy of my ancestors 
 who have inhabited this spot of earth before me, in all the
 
 40 
 
 THE WIDO\\'. 
 
 
 metliods of hospitality and good neighbourhood, for the sake 
 of my fame ; and in country sports and recreations, for the
 
 THE WIDOW. 
 
 41 
 
 sake of my health. In my 
 twenty-third year I was obliged 
 to serve as sheriff of the 
 county ; and in my ser- 
 vants, officers and whole 
 
 '%!# '^ 
 
 equipage, indulged the pleasure of 
 
 a young man (who did not think ill 
 
 of his own person) in taking that 
 
 public occasion of shewing my figure 
 
 and behaviour to advantage. You 
 
 may easily imagine to yourself what 
 
 p appearance I made, who am pretty 
 
 ^'^^:>^ tall, rid well, and was very well 
 
 dressed, at the head of a whole 
 
 county, with musick before me, a 
 
 feather in my hat, and my horse
 
 42 
 
 THE WIDOW. 
 
 well bitted. I can assure you I was not a little pleased with the 
 kind looks and glances I had from all the balconies and w^indows 
 as I rode to the hall where the assizes were held. But when 
 I came there, a beautiful creature in a widow's habit sat in 
 
 court, to hear the event of a cause concerning her dower. This 
 commanding creature (who was born for destruction of all who 
 behold her) put on such a resignation in her countenance, 
 and bore the whispers of all around the court with such a pretty 
 uneasiness, I warrant you, and then recovered herself from one
 
 THE WIDOW. 43 
 
 eye to another, till she was perfectly confused by meeting 
 somethinof so wistful in all she encountered, that at last, with a 
 murrain to her, she cast her bewitching eye upon me. I no 
 sooner met it, but I bowed like a great surprised booby ; and 
 knowine her cause to be the first which came on, I cried, like 
 a captivated calf as I was, ' Make w\ay for the defendant's 
 witnesses.' This sudden partiality made all the county see the 
 sheriff also was become a slave to the fine widow. During the 
 time her cause was upon trial, she behaved herself, I warrant 
 you, with such a deep attention to her business, took opportunities 
 to have little billets handed to her counsel, then would be in 
 such a pretty confusion, occasioned, you must know, by acting 
 before so much company, that not only I but the whole court 
 was prejudiced in her favour ; and all that the next heir to her 
 husband had to urge, was thought so groundless and frivolous, 
 that when it came to her counsel to reply, there was not half 
 so much said as every one besides in the court thought he 
 could have ur^red to her advantao^e. You must understand. 
 Sir, this perverse woman is one of those unaccountable creatures, 
 that secretly rejoice in the admiration of men, but indulge 
 themselves in no farther consequences. Hence it is that she has 
 ever had a train of admirers, and she removes from her slaves 
 in town to those in the country, according to the seasons of 
 the year. She is a reading lady, and far gone in the pleasures 
 of friendship : She is always accompanied by a confident, 
 who is witness to her daily protestations against our sex, and
 
 44 THE WIDOW. 
 
 consequently a bar to her first steps towards lov^e, upon the 
 streno-th of her own maxims and declarations. 
 
 *' However, I must needs say this accomplished mistress 
 of mine has distinguished me above the rest, and has been 
 known to declare Sir Roger de Coverlev was the tamest and 
 most humane of all the brutes in the country. I was told she 
 said so, by one who thought he rallied me ; but upon the 
 strength of this slender encouragement of being thought least 
 detestable, I made new liveries, new-pair'd my coach-horses, 
 sent them all to town to be bitted and taught to throw their 
 legs well, and move all together, before I pretended to cross 
 the country, and wait upon her. As soon as I thought my 
 retinue suitable to the character of my fortune and youth, I 
 set out from hence to make my addresses. The particular skill 
 of this lady has ever been to inflame your wishes, and yet 
 command respect. To make her mistress of this art, she has a 
 greater share of knowledge, wit, and good sense, than is usual 
 even among men of merit. Then she is beautiful beyond the 
 race of women. If vou won't let her p-o on with a certain 
 artifice with her eyes, and the skill of beauty, she will arm 
 herself with her real charms, and strike you with admiration 
 instead of desire. It is certain that if you were to behold 
 the whole woman, there is that dignity in her aspect, that 
 composure in her motion, that complacency in her manner, 
 that if her form makes you hope, her merit makes you fear. 
 But then again, she is such a desperate scholar, that no
 
 THE WIDOW. 
 
 ■15 
 
 country-gentleman can approach her without being a jest. As 
 I was going to tell you, when I came to her house I was 
 admitted to her presence with great civility ; at the same time 
 
 ^ePc'hi<y-^ 
 
 she placed herself to be first seen by me in such an attitude, 
 as I think you call the posture of a picture, that she dis- 
 covered new charms, and I at last came towards her with
 
 46 THE WIDOW, 
 
 such an awe as made me speechless. This she no sooner 
 
 observed but she made her advantage of it, and began a 
 
 discourse to me concerning love and honour, as they both 
 
 are followed by pretenders and the real votaries to them. 
 
 When she discussed these points in a discourse, which I 
 
 verily believe was as learned as the best philosopher in EtLvope 
 
 could possibly make, she asked me whether she was so happy 
 
 as to fall in with my sentiments on these important particulars. 
 
 Her confident sat by her, and upon my being in the last 
 
 confusion and silence, this malicious aid of hers turning to 
 
 her says, ' I am very glad to observe Sir Roger pauses upon 
 
 this subject, and seems resolved to deliver all his sentiments 
 
 upon the matter when he pleases to speak.' They both kept 
 
 their countenances, and after I had sat half an hour meditating 
 
 how to behave before such profound casuists, I rose up and 
 
 took my leave. Chance has since that time thrown me very 
 
 often in her way, and she as often has directed a discourse to 
 
 me which I do not understand. This barbarity has kept me 
 
 ever at a distance from the most beautiful object my eyes 
 
 ever beheld. It is thus also she deals with all mankind, and 
 
 you must make love to her, as you would conquer the sphinx, 
 
 by posing her. But were she like other women, and that 
 
 there were any talking to her, how constant must the pleasure 
 
 of that man be, who could converse with the creature — But, 
 
 after all, you may be sure her heart is fixed on some one 
 
 or other ; and yet I have been credibly inform'd ; but who
 
 THE WIDOW, 
 
 47 
 
 can believe half that is said ? After she had done speaking 
 to me, she put her hand to her bosom and adjusted her 
 
 l ^l'.'": ■".'■ I'llC u_ 
 
 ^^^. clirecLed ^ Diycourje f° m^ wKkIv, 
 1 do not uncL^rj'^^ncL. 
 
 tucker. Then she cast her eyes a little down, upon my 
 beholding her too earnestly. They say she sings excellently : 
 her voice in her ordinary speech has something- in it
 
 48 THE WIDOW 
 
 inexpressibly sweet. You must know I dined with her at a 
 publick table the day after I first saw her, and she helped 
 me to some tansy in the eye of all the gentlemen in the 
 country. She has certainly the finest hand of any woman in 
 the world. I can assure you, Sir, were you to behold her, 
 you w^ould be in the same condition ; for as her speech is 
 musick, her form is angelick. But I find I grow irregular 
 while I am talking of her ; but indeed it would be stupidity 
 to be unconcerned at such perfection. Oh the excellent 
 creature ! she is as inimitable to all women, as she is inac- 
 cessible to all men." 
 
 I found my friend begin to rave, and insensibly led him 
 towards the house, that we might be joined by some other 
 company ; and am convinced that the widow is the secret cause 
 of all that inconsistency which appears in some parts of my 
 friend's discourse ; tho' he has so much command of himself 
 as not directly to mention her, yet according to that of 
 Martial, which one knows not how to render into English, 
 Duin facet hanc loquitur. I shall end this paper with that 
 whole epigram, which represents with much humour my honest 
 friend's condition. 
 
 Quicquid agit Riifus, nihil est, nisi Na:i>ia Ru/o, 
 
 Si gaudet, siflet, si tacet, hanc loquitur : 
 Canat, propinat, poscet, negat, annuity una est 
 
 NcEvia ; si no7i sit Ncevia, iniitus erit. 
 Scriberet hesternd patri ciim luce salutcm, 
 
 Ncevia lux, iiiquit, NcEvia numen, ave. 
 
 Epig. 69, 1. I.
 
 THE WIDOW. 
 
 49 
 
 Let Ritfiis weep, rejoice, stand, sit, or walk, 
 Still he can nothing but of Navia talk ; 
 Let him eat, drink, ask questions, or dispute, 
 Still he must speak of Ncevia, or be mute. 
 He writ to his father, ending with this line, 
 " I am, my lovely Ncvvia, ever thine." 
 
 "l AM, MY LOVELY X.EVIA, EVER THINE." 
 
 H
 
 human nature, 
 much shews the 
 
 who have searched into 
 observe that nothing so 
 nobleness of the soul as 
 
 that its felicity consists in action. Every man has such an active 
 principle in him, that he will find out something to employ 
 himself upon, in whatever place or state of life he is posted. 
 I have heard of a gentleman who was under close confinement 
 in the Bastile seven years ; during which time he amused 
 himself in scattering a few small pins about his chamber, 
 gathering them up again, and placing them in different figures on 
 the arm of a great chair. He often told his friends afterwards,
 
 THE CHASE. 51 
 
 that unless he had found out this piece of exercise, he verily 
 believed he should have lost his senses. 
 
 After what has been said, I need not inform my readers 
 that Sir Roger, with whose character I hope they are at 
 present pretty well acquainted, has in his youth gone through 
 the whole course of those rural diversions which the country 
 abounds in ; and which seem to be extremely well suited to 
 that laborious industry a man may observe here in a far 
 greater degree than in towns and cities. I have before hinted 
 at some of my friend's exploits : He has in his youthful days 
 taken forty coveys of partridges in a season ; and tired many 
 a salmon with a line consisting but of a single hair. The 
 constant thanks and good wishes of the neighbourhood always 
 attended him, on account of his remarkable enmity towards 
 foxes ; having destroyed niore of those vermin in one year, 
 than it was thought the whole country could have produced. 
 Indeed the Knight does not scruple to own among his most 
 intimate friends, that in order to establish his reputation this 
 way, he has secretly sent for great numbers of them out of 
 other counties, which he used to turn loose about the country 
 by night, that he might the better signalize himself in their 
 destruction the next day. His hunting horses were the finest 
 and best managed in all these parts : His tenants are still full 
 of the praises of a grey stone-horse that unhappily staked 
 himself several years since, and was buried with great 
 solemnity in the orchard.
 
 52 
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 Sir Roger, being at present too old for fox-hunting, to 
 keep himself in action, has disposed of his beagles, and got a 
 
 pack of Stop-Hounds. What these want in speed, he endeavours 
 to make amends for by the deepness of their mouths and the
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 53 
 
 variety of their notes, which are suited in such manner to each 
 
 tie 
 
 Other, that the whole cry makes up a complete concert. He 
 is so nice in this particular, that a gentleman having made him
 
 54 THE CHASE. 
 
 a present of a very fine hound the other day, the Knight 
 returned it by the servant with a great many expressions of 
 civiHty ; but desired him to tell his master, that the dog he 
 had sent was indeed a most excellent Bass, but that at present 
 he only wanted a Coiintci'-Tenor. Could I believe my friend 
 had ever read Shakcspeai'e, I should certainly conclude he had 
 taken the hint from Theseus in the JMidsummer Night's Dream. 
 
 My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, 
 So filled, so sanded J and their heads are hung 
 IVitli cars that sweep away the mornijig dew. 
 d'ook-knee'd and deiv-lafd like Thessalian bulls. 
 Slow in pursuit, but inatch'd in mouths like bells, 
 Each under each : A cry more tuneable 
 Was never hollaed to, nor chear'd with horn. 
 
 Sir Roger is so keen at this sport, that he has been out 
 almost every day since I came down ; and upon the chaplain's 
 offering to lend me his easy pad, I was prevailed on yesterday 
 morning to make one of the company. I was extremely pleased, 
 as we rid along, to observe the general benevolence of all the 
 neighbourhood towards my friend. The farmers' sons thought 
 themselves happy if they could open a gate for the good old 
 Knight as he passed by ; which he generally requited with 
 a nod or a smile, and a kind of enquiry after their fathers and 
 uncles. 
 
 After we had rid about a mile from home, we came upon a 
 large heath, and the sportsmen began to beat. They had done 
 so for some time, when, as I was at a little distance from the
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 55 
 
 rest of the company, I saw a hare pop out from a small 
 furze-brake almost under my horse's feet. I marked the way 
 
 she took, which I endeavoured ^ -^^ a^^]d ope,^ ^n </itc! 
 
 to make the company sensible of by 
 
 extending my arm ; but to no purpose, till Sir Roger, who
 
 56 THE CHASE. 
 
 knows that none of my extraordinary motions are insignlticant, 
 rode up to me, and asked me if puss was gone that zvay ? 
 Upon my answering Yes, he immediately called in the dogs, 
 and put them upon the scent. As they were going off, I 
 heard one of the country-fellows muttering to his companion, 
 That 'twas a wonder" they had not lost all their sport, for 
 want of the silent gentleman s crying Stole away. 
 
 This, with my aversion to leaping hedges, made me 
 withdraw to a rising ground, from whence I could have the 
 pleasure of the whole chase, without the fatigue of keeping 
 in with the hounds. The hare immediately threw them above 
 a mile behind her ; but I was pleased to find, that instead of 
 running straight forwards, or, in hunter's language. Flying the 
 country, as I was afraid she might have done, she wheel'd 
 about, and described a sort of circle round the hill where I 
 had taken my station, in such manner as gave me a very 
 distinct view of the sport. I could see her first pass by, and 
 the doQfs some time afterwards unravellinof the whole track 
 she had made, and following her thro' all her doubles. I was 
 at the same time deliijhted in observinsf that deference which 
 the rest of the pack paid to each particular hound, according 
 to the character he had acquired amongst them : If they were 
 at a fault, and an old hound of reputation opened but once, he 
 was immediately followed by the whole cry ; while a raw 
 dog or one who was a noted Liar, might have yelped his 
 heart out, without being taken notice of.
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 57 
 
 The hare now, after having squatted two or three times, 
 and been put up again as often, came still nearer to the place 
 where she was at first started. The dogs pursued her, and 
 these were followed by the jolly Knight, who rode upon a 
 
 '^S^^^as ^^n^tMr^p 
 
 white gelding, encompassed by his tenants and servants, and 
 chearinof his hounds with all the Q^aietv of five and twentv. 
 One of the sportsmen rode up to me, and told me, that he 
 was sure the chase was almost at an end, because the old 
 
 I
 
 58 
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 dogs, which had hitherto lain behind, now headed the pack. 
 The fellow was in the right. Our hare took a large field just 
 under us, followed by the full cry in viezv. I must confess 
 the brightness of the weather, the chearfulness of every thing 
 around me, the chiding of the hounds, which was returned upon 
 us in a double echo from two neiorhbourinsf hills, with the 
 hollowing of the sportsmen, and the sounding of the horn, 
 
 lifted my spirits into a most lively 
 pleasure, which I freely 
 indulged because I 
 was sure it was 
 innocent. If I was 
 under any concern, 
 it was on the ac- 
 count of the poor 
 hare, that was now 
 quite spent and 
 almost within the 
 reach of her ene- 
 
 
 mies ; when the huntsman getting forward threw down his pole 
 before the dogs. They were now within eight yards of that game 
 which they had been pursuing for almost as many hours ; 
 yet on the signal before mentioned they all made a sudden 
 stand, and tho' they continued opening as much as before, 
 durst not once attempt to pass beyond the pole. At the same 
 time Sir Roger rode forward, and alighting, took up the hare
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 59 
 
 in his arms ; which he 
 servants, with an or- 
 der, if she could be 
 kept ahve, to let 
 her go in his great 
 orchard ; where it 
 seems he has .^^v ^, „^, ..,^« 
 
 several of these . '.?xiW''0 »^('^«- 
 
 prisoners of war, ^*^ ^ 
 
 who live together ' ^^ /=^^^ ^ .''*'^f^j 
 
 soon delivered up to one of his 
 
 .0; 
 
 
 J^l'^ -v 
 
 '""it 
 
 
 '-^- ^M-.- 
 
 fl ' n-!1^[ of 
 
 old )|cuh<l 
 
 in a \ cry comfortable 
 captivity. I was highly 
 pleased to see the disci- 
 pline of the pack, and 
 the good-nature of the 
 
 
 Knight, who could not find in his 
 
 x./^
 
 6o 
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 heart to murder a creature that had given him so much 
 diversion. 
 
 As we were returning home, I remembered that Monsieur 
 Paschal, in his most excellent discourse on the misery of man, 
 
 
 
 tells us, that a// otir endeavours after ™ft greatness 
 
 proceed from nothing but a desire of being surrounded by 
 a multitude of persons and affairs that may hinder tis 
 from looking into ourselves, which is a vieiv we cannot
 
 THE CHASE. 6i 
 
 bear. He afterwards goes on to shew that our love of 
 sports comes from the same reason, and is particularly 
 severe upon hunting. Wkai, says he, unless it be to drown 
 thought, can make men throw away so much time and paijis 
 2ipon a silly animal, luhicJi they might buy cheaper in the 
 market ? The foregoing reflection is certainly just, when 
 a man suffers his whole mind to be drawn into his sports, 
 and altogether loses himself in the woods ; but does not 
 affect those who propose a far more laudable end for this 
 exercise, I mean, The presei^oation of health, and keeping all 
 the 07gans of the soul in a condition to execute her orders. 
 Had that incomparable person, whom I last quoted, been a 
 little more indulgent to himself in this point, the world might 
 probably have enjoyed him much longer ; whereas thro' too 
 great an application to his studies in his youth, he contracted 
 that ill habit of body, which, after a tedious sickness, carried 
 him off in the fortieth year of his age ; and the whole history 
 we have of his life till that time, is but one continued account 
 of the behaviour of a noble soul struggling under innumerable 
 pains and distempers. 
 
 For my own part I intend to hunt twice a week during 
 my stay with Sir Roger ; and shall prescribe the moderate 
 use of this exercise to all my country friends as the best kind 
 of physick for mending a bad constitution, and preserving a 
 good one. I cannot do this better, than in the following 
 lines out of Mr. Djyden.
 
 62 
 
 THE CHASE. 
 
 The Jirst physicians by debauch were made ; 
 Excess bega?t, and sloth sustains the trade. 
 By chase our long-liv'd fathers earn'd their food; 
 Toil strung the nerves, and purify d the blood; 
 But we their sons, a pamper' d race of men, 
 Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. 
 Better to hunt in fields for health unbought, 
 Than fee the Doctor for a nauseous draught. 
 The wise for cure on exercise depend ; 
 God never made his work for inan to mend.
 
 MAN'S first care should be to avoid 
 the reproaches of his own heart ; his 
 next, to escape the censures of the 
 world : If the last interferes \vith the 
 former, it ought to be entirely neglected ; but otherwise there 
 cannot be a greater satisfaction to an honest mind, than to 
 see those approbations which it gives itself seconded by 
 the applauses of the publick : A man is more sure of 
 his conduct, when the verdict which he passes upon his own 
 behaviour is thus warranted and confirmed by the opinion of 
 all that know him. 
 
 My worthy friend Sir Roger is one of those who is not 
 only at peace within himself, but beloved and esteemed by all 
 about him. He receives a suitable tribute for his universal 
 benevolence to mankind, in the returns of affection and 
 good-will, which are paid him by every one that lives within
 
 64 
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 his Neighbourhood. I lately met with two or three odd 
 instances of that general respect which is shewn to the good 
 old Knight. He would needs carry Wi// Wimble and myself 
 
 SIR ROGER TAKES US TO THE ASSIZES. 
 
 with him to the county assizes : As we were upon the road 
 Will Wimble join'd a couple of plain men who rid before us, 
 and conversed with them for some time ; during which my 
 friend Sir Roger acquainted me with their characters.
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 65 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 7 olf -' * 
 
 1 ^n 
 
 The first of them, says he, 
 that has a spaniel by his side, is 
 a yeoman of about an hundred 
 pounds a year, an honest man : 
 He is just within the game-act, 
 and qualified to kill an hare or 
 a pheasant : He knocks down a 
 dinner with his gun twice or 
 thrice a week ; and by that means 
 lives much cheaper than those who 
 have not so good an estate as 
 himself. He would be a good neigh- 
 bour if he did not destroy so many 
 partridges : In short, he is a very 
 sensible man ; shoots flying ; 
 
 THE TWO PLAIN MEN WHO RID 
 BEFORE US. 
 
 and has been several times 
 foreman of the petty-jury. 
 
 The other that rides alonof 
 with him is To//^ Touchy, a 
 fellow famous for taking the 
 laiu of every body. There 
 is not one in the town where 
 he lives that he has not 
 sued at a quarter sessions. 
 The roLTue had once the 
 
 AN HONEST YEOMAN.
 
 66 
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 impudence to go to law with the luidozv. His head is full of 
 costs, damages, and ejectments : He plagued a couple of 
 honest gentlemen so long for a trespass in breaking one of 
 his hedges, till he was forced to sell the ground it enclosed 
 to defray the charges of the prosecution : His father left him 
 
 fourscore pounds a year ; 
 
 but he has cast and been 
 cast so often, that he is not 
 now worth thirty. I sup- 
 pose he is going upon the old 
 business of the willow-tree. 
 As Sir Roger was giv- 
 ino: me this account of Tom 
 Touchy, Will Wimble and 
 his two companions stopped 
 short till we came up to 
 them. After having paid 
 their respects to Sir Roger, 
 Will told him that Mr. 
 ToucJiy and he must appeal 
 to him upon a dispute that arose between them. Will, it 
 seems, had been giving his fellow-traveller an account of 
 his angling one day in such a hole ; when Tom Touchy, 
 instead of hearing out his story, told him that Mr. Such-a- 
 one, if he pleased, might take the law of him for fishing in 
 that part of the river. My friend Sir Roger heard them both, 
 
 TOM TOUCHY.
 
 IHE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 67 
 
 -^' 
 
 ^ it Ml 4 
 
 upon a round trot ; and after having paused some time told 
 them, with the air of a man who would not give his judgment 
 
 rashly, /Aa/ uiuch might be 
 said on both sides. They 
 were neither of them dis- 
 satisfied with the Kniofht's 
 determination, because nei- 
 ther of them found himself 
 in the wrong by it : Upon 
 which we made the best of 
 our wav to the assizes. 
 
 The court was sat be- 
 fore Sir Roger came ; but 
 notwithstanding all the 
 
 o 
 
 justices had taken their 
 places upon the bench, 
 they made room for the old 
 Knioht at the head of 
 them ; who for his reputa- 
 tion in the country took 
 occasion to \\hisper in the 
 judge's ear, Tliat he zcas 
 g/ad his lordsJiip had met 
 with so mueh good zueaiher in his eireuit. I was listening to 
 the proceeding of the court with much attention, and infinitely 
 pleased with that great appearance and solemnity which so 
 
 WII.I. WIMBLE.
 
 6S 
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 properly accompanies such a publick administration of our laws ; 
 when, after about an hour's sitting, I observed to my great 
 surprise, in the midst of a trial, that my friend Sir Roger 
 was getting up to speak. I was in some pain for him, till I 
 found he had acquitted himself of two or three sentences with 
 a look of much business and great intrepidity. 
 
 THE WIDOW CONSULTS HER LAWYER ANENT TOM TOUCHY. 
 
 Upon his first rising the court was hushed, and a general 
 whisper ran among the country people that Sir Roger zvas 
 tip. The speech he made was so little to the purpose, that I 
 shall not trouble my readers with an account of it ; and I
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 69 
 
 believe was not so much designed by the Knight himself to 
 inform the court, as to give him a figure in my eye, and keep 
 up his credit in the country. 
 
 Country feofs th^t SirT^seR. *»!SJ'A 
 
 I was highly delighted, when the court rose, to see the 
 
 gentlemen of the country gathering about my old friend, and 
 
 striving who should compliment him most ; at the same time 
 
 that the ordinary people gazed upon him at a distance, not a
 
 7° 
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 little admiring his courage, that was not afraid to speak to the 
 judge. 
 
 In our return home we met with a very odd accident ; 
 which I cannot forbear relating, because it shews how desirous 
 
 "WE STOri'ED AT A LITTLE INN TO REST OURSELVES AND OUR TIORSES." 
 
 all who know Sir Roger are of giving him marks of their 
 esteem. When we were arrived upon the verge of his estate, 
 we stopped at a little inn to rest ourselves and our horses. 
 The man of the house had it seems been formerly a servant
 
 THE COUN TY ASSIZES. 
 
 71 
 
 in the Knight's family ; and to do honour to his old master, 
 had some time since, unknown to Sir Roger, put him up in a 
 sign-post before the door; so that the Knighf s head had hung 
 out upon the road about a week before he himself knew any 
 
 INSrECTIXG "HIS HONOUR'S HEAD WITH THE ALTERATIONS HE HAD ORDERED 
 
 TO BE MADE IN IT." 
 
 thing of the matter. As soon as Sir Rogkr was acquainted 
 with it, finding that his servant's indiscretion proceeded wholly 
 from affection and good-will, he only told him that he had made
 
 72 
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 him too high a compHment ; and when the fellow seemed to 
 think that could hardly be, added with a more decisive look, 
 That it was too great an honour for any man under a duke ; 
 but told him at the same time, that it might be altered with a 
 very few touches, and that he himself would be at the charge 
 
 MUCH "might" be said ON BOTH SIDES. 
 
 of it. Accordingly they got a painter by the Knight's directions 
 to add a pair of whiskers to the face, and by a little aggra- 
 vation of the features to change it into the Saracen s- He ad. 
 I should not have known this story had not the inn-keeper,
 
 THE COUNTY ASSIZES. 
 
 upon Sir Roger's alighting, told him in my hearing, That his 
 honour's head was brought back last night with the alterations 
 that he had ordered to be made in it. Upon this my friend 
 with his usual chearfulness related the particulars above- 
 mentioned, and ordered the head to be brouijht into the room. 
 I could not forbear discovering greater expressions of mirth 
 than ordinary upon the appearance of this monstrous face, 
 under which, notwithstanding it was made to frown and stare 
 in a most extraordinary manner. I could still discover a distant 
 resemblance of my old friend. Sir Roger upon seeing me 
 laugh, desired me to tell him truly if I thought it possible for 
 people to know him in that disguise. I at first kept my usual 
 silence ; but upon the Knight's conjuring me to tell hini 
 whether it was not still more like himself than a Saracen, I 
 composed my countenance in the best manner I could, and 
 replied, That muck might be said on both sides. 
 
 These several adventures, with the Knight's behaviour in 
 them, gave me as pleasant a day as ever I met with in any 
 of my travels.
 
 'fA'^^i'i^' 
 
 ■' it -^' — ■■^y,.,f 
 
 '" The Spectators 
 Return to Town, 
 
 (sA^jPI^ notified to my good friend Sir Roger 
 that I should set out for London the next 
 day, his horses were ready at the appointed 
 hour in the evening ; and attended by one 
 of his grooms, I arrived at the country town at twihght, in 
 order to be ready for the stage-coach the day following. As 
 soon as we arrived at the inn, the servant, who waited upon 
 me, enquir'd of the chamberlain in my hearing what company 
 he had for the coach ? The fellow answered, Mrs. Betty 
 Arable, the great fortune, and the widow her mother ; a re- 
 cruiting officer (who took a place because they were to go ;)
 
 THE SPECTATOR'S RETURN TO TOWN. 
 
 75 
 
 young 'Squire Quickset her cousin (that her mother wished 
 her to be married to ;) Ephraini the Quaker, her guardian ; 
 and a eentleman that had studied himself dumb from 
 
 Sir Roger de Conerlev's, I ob- 
 served by what he said of myself, 
 that according to his office he dealt much in intelligence ; and 
 doubted not but there was some foundation for his reports 
 for the rest of the company, as well as for the whimsical 
 account he e^ve of me. The next mornimif at dav-break we
 
 76 THE SPECTATOR'S RETURN TO TOWN.- 
 
 were all called; and I, who knew my own natural shyness, 
 and endeavour to be as little liable to be disputed with as 
 possible, dressed immediately, that I might make no one wait. 
 The first preparation for our setting-out was, that the captain's 
 half-pike was placed near the coachman, and a drum behind 
 the coach. In the mean time the drummer, the captain's 
 equipage, was very loud, that none of the captain's things should 
 be placed so as to be spoiled ; upon which his cloke-bag was 
 fixed in the seat of the coach : And the captain himself, 
 according to a frequent, tho' invidious behaviour of military 
 men, ordered his man to look sharp, that none but one of the 
 ladies should have the place he had taken fronting to the 
 coach- box. 
 
 We were in some little time fixed in our seats, and sat 
 with that dislike which people not too good-natured usually 
 conceive of each other at first sight. The coach jumbled us 
 insensibly into some sort of familiarity ; and we had not moved 
 above two miles, when the widow asked the captain what 
 success he had in his recruitino; ? The officer, with a frankness 
 he believed very graceful, told her, " That indeed he had but 
 very little luck, and had suffered much by desertion, therefore 
 should be elad to end his warfare in the service of her or her fair 
 daughter. In a word," continued he, " I am a soldier, and to be 
 plain is my character : You see me, Madam, young, sound, and 
 impudent ; take me yourself, widow, or give me to her, I will 
 be wholly at your disposal. I am a soldier of fortune, ha ! "
 
 THE SPECTATOR'S RETURN TO TOWN. 
 
 77 
 
 This was followed by a vain laugh of his own, and a deep silence 
 of all the rest of the company. I had nothing left for it but 
 
 to fall fast asleep, which I did with all 
 
 speed. *' Come," said he, " resolve upon 
 
 it, we will make a wedding at the next town : We will 
 
 wake this pleasant companion who has fallen asleep, to be 
 
 the brideman," (and giving the quaker a clap on the knee)
 
 78 
 
 THE SPECTATOR'S RETURN TO TOWN. 
 
 he concluded, "This sly saint, who I'll warrant, understands 
 what's what as well as you or I, widow, shall give the bride 
 
 
 as father." 1 he quaker, who happened to be a man of smartness, 
 answered, " Friend, I take it in good part that thou hast given
 
 THE SPECTATORS RETURN TO TOWN. 79 
 
 me the authority of a father over this comely and virtuous 
 child ; and I must assure thee, that if I have the giving her, 
 I shall not bestow her on thee. Thy mirth, friend, savoureth 
 of folly : Thou art a person of a light mind ; thy drum is a 
 type of thee, it soundeth because it is empty. \^erily, it is not 
 from thy fulness, but thy emptiness that thou hast spoken this 
 day. Friend, friend, we have hired this coach in partnership 
 with thee, to carry us to the great city ; we cannot go any other 
 way. This worthy mother must hear thee if thou wilt needs 
 utter thy follies ; we cannot help it, friend, I say: If thou wilt, 
 we must hear thee ; but if thou wert a man of understandinc:, 
 thou wouldst not take advantage of thy courageous countenance 
 to abash us children of peace. Thou art, thou sayest, a soldier ; 
 give quarter to us, who cannot resist thee. Why didst thou 
 lleer at our friend, who feigned himself asleep ? he said nothing ; 
 but how dost thou know what he containeth ? If thou speakest 
 improper things in the hearing of this virtuous young virgin, 
 consider it as an outrage against a distressed person that cannot 
 get from thee : To speak indiscreetly what we are obliged to 
 hear, by being hasped up with thee in this publick vehicle, is in 
 some degree assaulting on the high road." 
 
 Here EpJu^aiiu paused, and the captain with a happy and 
 uncommon impudence (which can be convicted and support 
 itself at the same time) cries, " Faith, friend, I thank thee ; I 
 should have been a little impertinent if thou hadst not repri- 
 manded me. Come, thou art, I see, a smoky old fellow, and
 
 8o 
 
 THE SPECTATOR'S RETURN TO TOWN. 
 
 I'll be very orderly the ensuing part of my journey. I was 
 goinnr to give myself airs, but, ladies, I beg pardon." 
 
 The captain was so little out of humour, and our company 
 
 
 was SO far from being sc.ired by this little ruffle, that Ephraim 
 and he took a particular delight in being agreeable to each 
 other for the future ; and assumed their different provinces in
 
 THE SPECTATOR'S RETURN TO TOWN. 8i 
 
 the conduct of the company. Our reckonings, apartments, and 
 accommodation, fell under Epkraim ; and the captain looked to 
 all disputes upon the road, as the good behaviour of our 
 coachman, and the right we had of taking place as going to 
 London of all vehicles coming from thence. The occurrences 
 we met with were ordinary, and very little happened which could 
 entertain by the relation of them : But when I consider'd the 
 company we were in, I took it for no small good-fortune that 
 the whole journey was not spent in impertinences, which to the 
 one part of us might be an entertainment, to the other a 
 suffering. What therefore Ephraini said when we were almost 
 arriv'd at London had to me an air not only of good under- 
 standing but good breeding. Upon the young lady's expressing 
 her satisfaction in the journey, and declaring how delightful 
 it had been to her, Ephi^aini delivered himself as follows : 
 "There is no ordinary part of human life which expresseth so 
 much a good mind, and a right inward man, as his behaviour 
 upon meeting with strangers, especially such as may seem the 
 most unsuitable companions to him : Such a man, when he 
 falleth in the way with persons of simplicity and innocence, 
 however knowing he may be in the ways of men, will not \-aunt 
 himself thereof; but will the rather hide his superiority to them, 
 that he may not be painful unto them. My good friend, (con- 
 tinued he, turning to the officer) thee and I are to part by and 
 by, and peradventure we may never meet again : But be advised 
 by a plain man : modes and apparel are but trifles to the real 
 
 M
 
 82 
 
 THE SPECTATOR'S RETURN TO TOWN. 
 
 man, therefore do not think such a man as thyself terrible for 
 thy garb, nor such a one as me contemptible for mine. When 
 two such as thee and I meet, with affections as we ought to 
 have towards each other, thou shouldst rejoice to see my 
 peaceable demeanour, and I should ])e glad to see thy strength 
 and ability to protect me in it." 
 
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