& ' TY * ; A POLITICAL ROMANCE A Political Romance BY LAURENCE STERNE [ 1759] An Exadt Reprint of the First Edition With an Introduction by WILBUR L. CROSS Author of" The Life and Times of Laurence Sterne " BOSTON THE CLUB OF ODD VOLUMES 1914 Copyright, 1914* ty THE CLUB OF ODD VOLUMES of Boston. INTRODUCTION THE first edition of A Political Romance (1759), reprinted here for the first time, is a rare pamphlet from the pen of Laurence Sterne. Indeed, it was supposed until recently that this specimen of Sterne's humor, antedat- ing ^Tristram Shandy ; existed in no other form than the one given it the year after Sterne's death in an edition brought out by a London bookseller named Murdoch, with the assist- ance perhaps of John Hall-Stevenson, the au- thor's intimate friend. The title-page of that edition runs: "A Political Romance, Addrefled to Efq. of York. London Printed and fold by J. Murdoch, bookfeller, oppofite the New Exchange CofFe-houfe in the Strand. MDCCLXIX." It is a duodecimo volume,havingan"Adver- tifement" (pp. i v-ix) and a list of the characters in the allegory with their real names opposite (p. x). The Romance itself covers forty-seven pages. In the "Advertifement" the editor or bookseller says: "This little piece was written by Mr. Sterne in the year 1759, but for private reafons was then fuppreffed. The recovery of this fatirical performance from oblivion, as worthy of fo mafterly a pen, will, it is hoped, be a fufficient excufe, with all lovers of literary merit, for thus bringing it to public view." Murdoch's edition, several times reprinted by other booksellers, was afterwards incorpor- ated in the humorist's collected works of 1 7 80, with a new title: The History of a Good Warm Watch-Coat ...A Political Romance. All subse- quent editors have taken the text as they found it here, and have interpreted Murdoch's remark that the pamphlet was suppressed to mean that it was not published during the author's life- time. It was laid by, even the biographers have declared, in Sterne's desk, and at most circu- lated only in manuscript. Hall-Stevenson, it has been assumed, had one of the manuscripts, which he placed in Murdoch's hand for publi- cation. A clue to the existence of an edition of A Political Romance earlier than Murdoch's was derived from A Memoir of the York Press, 1868, by Robert Davies, a most accurate anti- quary. While he was writing his book he had access to the valuable collection of Edward Hailstone, Esq., of Horton Hall, Bradford, England, and there he saw a copy of the first edition bearing the date 1759. On Mr. Hail- stone's death in 1 8 90, this copy came to the Li- [iii] brary of the Dean and Chapter of York, where it was uncovered in September, 1905. A few weeks later another copy was found in a vol- ume of pamphlets at the York Subscription Library. Still another copy, bound with other tracts, was discovered the next year in the Li- brary of Trinity College, Cambridge. So far as it is known, no other copies are extant. In none of the three cases was the librarian aware that he had in his possession an anonymousyV# cT es- prit by Laurence Sterne. Our reprint is from a beautiful transcript of the Hailstone volume made by Miss Elizabeth Hastings of London. She followed the text line by line and page by page, and the present edi- tion reproduces so accurately the typography and the paging of the original that no biblio- graphical description is needed here. By com- paring the reprint with the usual text of the Romance, the reader may see how ruthlessly Murdoch mutilated Sterne. To be brief, he "corrected" the humorist's English, substitut- ing "elegant" phrases for quaint and homely idioms, and cut away the entire Key and two long letters that go with it. "Alas ! Poor Yorick!" To understand Sterne's humorous pamphlet, one must have in mind the circumstances in which it was written; otherwise nothing can be made of it. After graduating from Jesus Col- [hr ] lege, Cambridge, Sterne entered the ministry of the Church of England and settled as Vicar of Sutton-on-the-Forest a small village eight miles to the north of the city of York. Through the influence of his uncle, Dr. Jaques Sterne, Precentor to York Minster and Archdeacon of Cleveland, he was appointed, early in 1741, a prebendary in the Cathedral. Thenceforth to the end of his life he was a member of the York Chapter, composed of the Dean, canons, and prebendaries, for the management of all affairs connected with the Cathedral. Within the Chapter there was a good deal of maneu- vering, whenever a small office fell vacant, in the interest of friends; and at times friction arose between the Dean and the Archbishop over the real or apparent encroachment on each other's rights. The first Archbishop of York that concerns us was Matthew Hutton, who disliked Sterne and took sides against him in a quarrel that sprang up between Laurence and his uncle Jaques. In the spring of 1757, Archbishop Hutton was translated to the see of Canter- bury. His successor at York was Dr. John Gil- bert, for some years Bishop of Salisbury. He was an amiable gentleman, most friendly to- wards Sterne, but without the strong hand ne- cessary to check intrigues. Physical infirmities coming upon him, he rarely left his palace at Bishopthorpe, two miles south of York. With the Dean Dr. John Fountayne Sterne had been acquainted since their college days together at Cambridge. They were fast friends. The Dean spent much of his time at Melton Manor, the family seat in South Yorkshire, and so could not always know, any more than the Archbishop, what occurred at York. He was a colorless, good-natured ecclesiastic, inclined, however, to insist upon his prerogatives. The diocese had an arch intriguer in Dr. Francis Topham, the leading ecclesiastical law- yer at York, the official adviser to the Arch- bishop, to the Dean, and to many of the minor clergy. Never satisfied with the positions that he held, he was always scheming for more. In the autumn of 1748, he fomented a quarrel between Archbishop Hutton and Dean Foun- tayne over the appointment of preachers to the Cathedral. The Dean, it was averred, ordered the pulpit locked against a prebendary chosen for the day by the Chancellor of the diocese. For his defence of the Archbishop's rights on this and other occasions, Dr. Topham was ap- pointed, in 1751, Commissary and Keeper- General of the Exchequer and Prerogative Courts of the Archbishop of York, the most comfortable legal office within the gift of his Grace. Near the same time, the Commissary- ship of the Dean and Chapter, worth twenty pounds a year, fell vacant by the death of Dr. Mark Braithwaite, an advocate in the ecclesi- astical court. Dr. Topham made a grasp for that office, but missed. The place was given to William Stables, another ecclesiastical lawyer. Thereupon Dr. Topham made a grasp for the Commissaryship of the Peculiar Court of Pick- ering and Pocklington, which had likewise be- come vacant by the death of Dr. Mark Braith- waite. This office, valued at six pounds a year, he missed also; the Dean generously presented it to his friend Laurence Sterne. Over these ap- pointments Dr. Topham raised a loud clamor. Had not the Chapter been packed against him, he declared, he would have got the first ; and had the Dean kept his solemn promise, he would have got the second. The quarrel rose to its height at a dinner of the York clergy, where the Dean and Sterne denounced him as a liar. Thereafter, Dr. Topham kept reasonably quiet for several years until the advent of Dr. Gilbert in 1757. On first meeting the new Archbishop, the lawyer told him that he would find it very difficult to live upon good terms with the Dean and Chapter, for they were a set of strange people. The Archbishop, however, might be assured that he would have a zealous champion in all disputes which might arise. Needless to say, Dr. Topham saw to it that petty disputes did arise over questions con- [vii] cerning leases of Cathedral property and the proper method of inducting prebendaries. It was not his intent to force these differences to a breach between the Dean and the Archbishop ; but rather to ingratiate himself into favor at the palace so that Dr. Gilbert might be kindly dis- posed to a new and questionable scheme on which his heart was now set. On searching the records, he had discovered that the patent of the Commissaryship of the Exchequer and Prerogative Courts his best paying office had formerly been granted and enjoyed for two lives instead of for one life, as was then the cus- tom. He naturally wished a revival of the good old times. So he went to the Archbishop in the summer of 1 75 8, and asked him for permission to open his patent of the office, which read for one life only, and "to add the life of another proper person to it," meaning thereby, as it quickly transpired, the name of his own son. That son, then a mere boy, lived to be Edward Topham, playwright and libertine. The Archbishop was inclined to agree to the plan out of gratitude to Dr. Topham for his many services; but the Dean and Chapter, whose concurrence was necessary to complete the transaction, were hostile to the proposal. That the question of the appointment, which threatened to divide the Church of York, might be settled peaceably, the Dean, Dr. Topham, and several others were summoned by the Archbishop to meet at Bishopthorpe on No- vember 7, 1758, fora general conference. The two chief dignitaries, who had been misrepre- sented, each to each, by the intriguing lawyer, found themselves agreeably of one opinion : that it was inadvisable, notwithstanding an- cient precedent, to grant the valuable patent for more than one life. The lawyer, enraged at this decision, says Sterne, "huffed and bounced most terribly," threatening everybody from the Archbishop down to a timid surgeon, one Isaac Newton, who gave the story of the conference to the coffee-houses. Nothing coming of these angry violences, Dr. Topham decided to ap- peal to the public against the Dean, whom he charged with working upon the sick man at Bishopthorpe. So, during the second week in December, was launched his anonymous pam- phlet entitled A Letter address d to the Rever- end the Dean of York ; In which is given A full Detail of some very extraordinary Behaviour of his^ in relation to his Denial of a Promise made by him to Dr. 'Topham. Though the sixpenny pamphlet set out to deal principally with the commissaryship that fell to Sterne, it neverthe- less touched upon all the quarrels of a dozen years. Two weeks later, the Dean had ready his retort courteous, which bore the title : An Answer to a Letter Addressed to the Dean of [ix] Tork, in the Name of Dr. Topham. A feature of this very skilful reply was a formal declaration, signed by Laurence Sterne, as to what took place at the clerical dinner when Dr. Topham was proved to be a liar. In concluding his open letter, the Dean announced that he had taken leave of Dr. Topham "once for all." Thus apparently sure of the last word, the lawyer poured forth the phials of his wrath in A Re- ply to the Answer to a Letter lately addressed to the Dean of York. With considerable humor "a late notable performance," supposed to be the Dean's, was described as "the child and off- spring of many parents." Mr. Sterne and some others, it was intimated, had been called in by the Dean for " correcting, revising, ornament- ing, and embellishing" his well-known faint and nerveless style. Some parts of the Dean's pamphlet were without doubt Sterne's ; but they count for no- thing in comparison with A Political Romance, all his own, which he sent to the printer late in January, 1759. Dr. Topham had written in an- ger; the Dean replied soberly; Sterne turned the whole controversy into ridicule. "Above five hundred copies " of Sterne's pamphlet, it was said, "were struck off"; and "what all the serious arguments in the world could not effect, this brought about." At once Sterne had at his feet both friends and enemies, begging that [ * ] the Romance be suppressed. Dr. Topham sent word that he was ready, on this condition, to "quit his pretensions." Certain members of the York Chapter told Sterne that this humorous recital of their disputes would never do. The Archbishop and the Dean were, to say truth, each handsomely complimented by the way; but the laugh was, after all, on them as well as on Dr. Topham ; the publication, from any point of view, was, they thought, offensive to the dignity of the Church. Sterne heeded the advice of his brethren. With his assent, an official of the Cathedral bought up the copies remaining in the book-stalls and burned them with those still at the printer's. That was the current story thirty years after. But several copies must have been sold beyond recovery; and Sterne himself managed in some way to keep from the flames "three or four" other copies, which he guarded for the delight of his friends. It is perhaps one of these copies that is reprinted here. Sterne cast his amusing narrative in the form of an allegory, having in mind Swift's Voyage to Lilliput. That seeming great things may appear as small as they really are, the diocese of York is cut down to a country parish, and Arch- bishop Gilbert is thereby reduced to the rank of a village parson. The late parson is Arch- bishop Hutton. The Dean, Dr. John Foun- [xi] tayne, shorn of his surname, becomes merely John the parish clerk; and the members of the Chapter figure as the church- wardens. Inci- dentally Mark Braithwaite appears as Mark Slender, and William Stables as William Doe. Dr. Topham, renamed Trim, because he re- ceives so thorough a trimming at the last, is degraded to sexton and dog-whipper of the parish; and Sterne himself is slightly disguised under the name of Lorry Slim. As of the characters, so of the incidents, which cover the bickerings of ten years, from 1748 to 1758. In the dispute over the height of John's desk, everybody would see a comical version of the quarrel that Dr. Topham stirred up between Archbishop Hutton and Dean Fountayne over the key to the Cathedral pul- pit. When Trim, clad in an old coat, hat, and wig, emerges from the vicarage and struts across the churchyard, bawling out to John, 44 See here, my Lad ! how fine I am ! " that is Sterne 's way of saying that Dr. Topham has obtained from the Archbishop the patent of the Prerogative Courts in defiance of the Dean's protest. The pair of black plush breeches which Trim begs John to let him have for God's sake, is the Commissaryship of Pickering and Pock- lington that the Dean refused him and be- stowed upon Sterne. Similarly, the green pul- pit-cloth and old velvet cushion, which Trim [xii] eyed with envy, stand for the Commissaryship of the Dean and Chapter that went to William Stables. The numerous semi-legal offices that Dr. Topham already held are symbolized, for example, in the " pindar's place," worth forty shillings a year, in the six shillings and eight pence that he receives for oiling and winding up the clock, in the six pounds a year paid him for catching the moles of the parish, and in the thirteen shillings and four pence given to his wife for washing and darning the church linen. The old garments and worn pulpit decora- tions being divided up among the contestants, the parish fell back into its usual monotonous drone, and would have droned on forever had not the old parson left his flock for a better liv- ing and his place been supplied by a new in- cumbent. Then was struck up a lively tune. Trim at once hastens to the rectory to sell himself into servitude. He blacks the parson's shoes, greases his boots, runs to the town for eggs, catches his horse and rubs him down; and on one occasion, when the parson cuts his finger in paring an apple, goes half a mile to inquire of an old woman what is good to staunch blood, and returns with a cobweb in his breeches' pocket. All these incidents are a burlesque of Dr. Topham's endless visits to Bishopthorpe immediately after the new Archbishop had set- tled at the palace. [ xiii ] As a reward for running on the parson's er- rands, Trim merely requested that he might have an old watch-coat which had long hung up in the church, apparently of no use to any- body. He wished to take it home and have it made over into an under-petticoat for his wife and a jerkin for himself before winter should come on. The parson told him he was welcome to it with all his heart and soul, provided it were in the power of his Reverence to make the gift. As to that, it would be necessary to consult the parish registry. Some days later, just as the parson had discovered that the watch-coat was an ancient possession of great value and dig- nity, Trim popped in with it already ripped into two parts and cut out for the petticoat and jerkin. Enraged at Trim's impudence, the par- son commanded him to lay down the bundle and to wait upon him the next morning in com- pany with J ohn the parish clerk, the church- wardens, and one of the sidesmen. The next morning at eleven, passions ran high at the rectory. Trim pleaded the parson's promise, and, failing there, enumerated his humble ser- vices as the parson's man. But all in vain. The " pimping, pettyfogging, ambidextrous fel- low . . . was kick'd out of doors ; and told, at his peril, never to come there again." The allegory here is clear enough. By the watch-coat Sterne intends theCommissaryship [xiv] of the Exchequer and Prerogative Courts; its being ripped up for a petticoat and a jerkin means that Dr. Topham made out a new patent for the office, in which he inserted the name of his own son as his successor, and then brought it to Archbishop Gilbert for his approval and signature. The hot scene at the parsonage the next morning is the conference held at Bishop- thorpe on November 7, 1758. It is probable that Sterne, a most active member of the York Chapter, was present on that occasion, and so witnessed Dr. Topham's utter rout and angry departure. The Key which Sterne appended to the Ro- mance belongs to a kind of humor common in the eighteenth century, a late survival of which may be seen in the Pickwick Club. Specifi- cally, it was developed from Swift's " Grand Committee" that sat upon the meaning of "A Tale of a Tub." Sterne's " Political Club," however, is much more than an imitation of Swift. For years Sterne spent many evenings, when in York, at a convivial club that met at Sunton's Coffee-House in Coney Street. Here were discussed the questions of the day, na- tional and local. It was also a gossip-shop for rumor, scandal, and salacious stories and jests. The " Political Club," which devoted an en- tire session to the Romance, was, I take it, a bur- lesque of the transactions of Sterne's own club. [XV] Under the disguise of a surgeon, lawyer, apoth- ecary, undertaker, and the president who loved an hypothesis better than his life, he probably drew little portraits of the members their mannerisms and favorite gestures, and their vehemence in the expression of their opinions. What kind of men they were further than this or what names they bore we may never know, except, to be sure, that the Vicar of Sut- ton is among them. He is the parson of the parish, smart in repartee and ready to defend by a counter-jest an attack upon the cloth, just as was related in many an anecdote of Sterne once current and as may be seen in the char- acter he drew of himself in Parson Yorick. To these obscure associates Sterne had been long known for his overpowering sense of humor. "He loved a jest in his heart." He had contributed political paragraphs to York and London newspapers, and had read to his friends his quaint verses occasioned by hear- ing the great bell of the Cathedral toll for the dead; but it was really A Political Romance that first revealed to the author and his club that he coul d wri te " so as to make his reader laugh." Having once discovered his talent, Sterne im- mediately sat down to Tristram Shandy, and within a year entered upon his fame. WILBUR L. CROSS. August 20, 1914. A Political Romance, Addrefled To , Efa O F YORK. To which is fubjoined a KEY. Ridiculum acri Fortius et meliusmagnasplerumquefecat Res. T O R K: Printed in the Year MDCCLIX. [ Price ONE SHILLING.] POLITICAL ROMANCE, SIR, my laft, for want of fome- thing better to write about, I told you \yhat a; WorJd of Fending arid Proving we have had of late, in this little Vil- lage of ours, about an old-caft-Pair-of- black-PluJh-Breeches, which yohn, our Pa- rifh-Clerk, about ten Years ago, it feems, had made a Promife of to one Trim, who is our Sexton and Dog-Whipper. To this you write me Word, that you have had more than either one or two Occafions to know a good deal of the fhifty Beha- viour of this faid Mafter Trim, and that A you you are aftonifhed, nor can you for your Soul conceive, how fo worthlefs a Fellow, and fo worthlefs a Thing into the Bargain, could become the Occafion of fuch a Racket as I have reprefented. Now, though you do not fay expreffly, you could wifh to hear any more about it, yet I fee plain enough that I have raifed your Curiofity; and therefore, from the fame Motive, that I flightly mentioned it at all in my laft Letter, I will, in this, give you a full and very circumftantial Account of the whole Affair. But, before ! begin, I muft firft fet you right in one very material Point, in which I have mifiled yt-u., as to the true Caufe of all this Uproar amongft us ; which does not take its Rife, as I then told you, from the Affair of the Breeches; but, on the contrary, the whole Affair of the Breeches has taken its Rife from it : To underftand which, you muft know, that the firft Beginning of the Squabble was not between John the Parifh-Clerk and Trim the Sexton, but betwixt the Par- fon of the Parifh and the faid Mafter Trim, about [ 3 ] about an old Watch-Coat, which had many Years hung up in the Church, which Trim had fet his Heart upon ; and nothing would ferve Trim but he muft take it home, in order to have it converted into a 'warm Under-Petticoat for his Wife, and a Jerkin for himfelf, againft Winter ; which, in a plaintive Tone, he moft humbly begg'd his Reverence would confent to. I need not tell you, Sir, who have fo often felt it, that a Principle of ftrong Compaffion tranfports a generous Mind fometimes beyond what is ftridtly right, the Parfon was within an Ace of being an honourable Example of this very Crime; for no fooner did the diftinct Words Petticoat poor Wife warm Winter flrike upon his Ear, but his Heart warmed, and, before Trim had well got to the End of his Petition, (being a Gentle- man of a frank and open Temper J he told him he was welcome to it, with all his Heart and Soul. But, Trim, fays he, as you fee I am but juftgot down to my Living, and am an utter Stranger to all Parifh-Matters, know nothing about this old Watch-Coat you beg of me, having never feen it in my A 2 Life, Life, and therefore cannot be a Judge whether 'tis fit for fuch a Purpofe ; or, if it is, in Truth, know not whether 'tis mine to beftow upon you or not ; you muft have a Week or ten Days Patience, till I can make fome Inquiries about it ; and, if I find it is in my Power, I tell you again, Man, your Wife is heartily welcome to an Under-Petticoat out of it, and you to a Jerkin, was the Thing as good again as you reprefent it. It is neceffary to inform you, Sir, in this Place, That the Parfon was earneftly bent to ferve Trim in this Affair, not only from the Motive of Generofity, which I have juftly afcribed to him, but likewife from another Motive ; and that was by way of making fome Sort of Recompence for a Multitude of fmall Services which Trim had occafionally done, and indeed was continually doing, (as he was much about the Houfe) when his own Man was out of the way. For all thefe Reafons to- gether, I fay, the Parfon of the Parifh in- tended to ferve Trim in this Matter to the utmoft of his Power ; All that was want- ing was previoufly to inquire, if any one had [ 5 ] had a Claim to it ; or whether, as it had, Time immemorial, hung up in the Church, the taking it down might not raife a Clamour in the Parifh. Thefe In- quiries were the very Thing that Trim dreaded in his Heart. He knew very well that if the Parfon fliould but fay one Word to the Church- War dens about it, there would be an End of the whole Af- fair. For this, and fome other Reafonsnot neceflary to be told you, at prefent, Trim was for allowing no Time in this Mat- ter ; but, on the contrary, doubled his Diligence and Importunity at the Vicarage- Houfe ; plagued the whole Family to Death; prefled his fuit Morning, Noon, and Night ; and, to fhorten my Story, teazed the poor Gentleman, who was but in an ill State of Health, almoft out of his Life about it. You will not wonder, when I tell you, that all this Hurry and Precipitation, on the Side of Mafter Trim, produced its na- tural Effect on the Side of the Parfon, and that was, a Sufpicion that all was not right at the Bottom. He He was one Evening fitting alone in his Study, weighing and turning this Doubt every Way in his Mind ; and, after an Hour and a half's ferious Deliberation up- on the Affair, and running over Trim's Be- haviour throughout, he was juft faying to himfelf, // mujt be fo ; when a fudden Rap at the Door put an End to his Solilo- quy, and, in a few Minutes, to his Doubts too ; for a Labourer in the Town, who deem'd himfelf paft his fifty-fecond Year, had been returned by the Conftable in the Militia-Lift, and he had come, with a Groat in his Hand, to fearch the Parifh Regifter for his Age. The Parfon bid the poor Fellow put the Groat into his Pocket, and go into the Kitchen : Then (hutting the Study Door, and taking down the Parifh Regifter, Who knows ; fays he, but Imayfindfomething here about this f elf - fame Watch-Coat? He had fcarce un- clafped the Book, in faying this, when he popp'd upon the very Thing he wanted, fairly wrote on the firft Page, pafted to the Infide of one of the Covers, whereon was a Memorandum about the very Thing in Queftion, in thefe exprefs Words : great ^atcf^Coat toa purcfjafefc anii gifoen abobc ttoo IiunbrcD i?car ago, 6p tlje &or& of tlje S^anor, to t&i Cfjurcf), to tfte fole Jfe anti 2&efjoof of poor ejcton thereof, anti tfteir ^ucceffor^, for eber, to fie toom 6p tftem refpectibelp hi tointerlp cofti l^igftt^, in ringing Com- plines, Pafling-Bells, &c. tofticft tftefaiti ilorti of t^e a^anor Ijab fcone, in ^ietp, to feeep tfje poor ^retcfte^ toarm, anti for te oBooti of I)i^ oton ^oul, for tD^itf) tftep toere bi^ recteti to prap, &c. &c. &c. &c. Juft Hea- ven ! faid the Parfon to himfelf, looking upwards, What an Efcape have I had! Give this for an Under-Petticoat to Trim'j Wife ! I would not have confented to fuch a Defecration to be Primate of all Eng- land; nay, I would not have dijlurb'd a Jingle Button of it for half my Tythes ! Scarce were the Words out of his Mouth, when in pops Trim with the whole Sub- je& of the Exclamation under both his Arms. I fay, under both his Arms ; for he had actually got it ripp'd and cut out ready, his own Jerkin under one Arm, and the Petticoat under the other, in order to be carried to the Taylor to be made up, and .. and had juft ftepp'd in, in high Spirits, to fhew the Parfon how cleverly it had held out. There are many good Similies now fub- fifting in the World, but which I have nei- ther Time to recoiled: or look for, which would give you a ftrong Conception of the Aftonifhment and honeft Indignation which this unexpected Stroke of Trim's Impudence impreff'd upon the Parfon's Looks. Let it fuffice to fay, That it ex- ceeded all fair Defcription, as well as all Power of proper Refentment, except this, that Trim was ordered, in a ftern Voice, to lay the Bundles down upon the Table, to go about his Buiinefs, and wait upon him, at his Peril, the next Morning at Eleven precifely: Againft this Hour like a wife Man, the Parfon had fent to defire John the Parifh- Clerk, who bore an exceeding good Character as a Man of Truth, and who having, moreover, a pretty Freehold of about eighteen Pounds a Year in the Townfhip, was a leading Man in it ; and, upon the whole, was fuch a one of whom it might be faid, That he rather did Honour to his Office, than that [ 9 ] that his Office did Honour to him. Him he fends for, with the Church- Wardens, and one of the Sides-Men, a grave, know- ing, old Man, to be prefent : For as Trim had with-held the whole Truth from the Parfon, touching the Watch-Coat, he thought it probable he would as certainly do the fame Thing to others ; though this, I faid, was wife, the Trouble of the Precau- tion might have been fpared, becaufe the Parfon's Character was unblemifh'd, and he had ever been held by the World in the Eftimation of a Man of Honour and Inte- grity. Trim's Character, on the contrary, was as well known, if not in the World, yet, at leaft, in all the Parim, to be that of a little, dirty, pimping, pettifogging, ambi- dextrous Fellow, who neither cared what he did or faid of any, provided he could get a Penny by it . This might, I fay, have made any Precaution needlefs; but you muft know, as the Parfon had in a Manner but juft got down to his Living, he dreaded the Confequences of the leaft ill Impreffion on his firft Entrance amongft his Parifhioners, which would have difabled him from do- ing them the Good he wifhed ; so that, out of Regard to his Flock, more than the B necef- neceflary Care due to himfelf, he was re- folv'd not to lie at the Mercy of what Re- fen tment might vent, or Malice lend an Ear to. Accordingly the whole Matter was rehearfed from firft to laft by the Parfon, in the Manner I've told you, in the Hear- ing of John the Par ifh- Clerk, and in the Prefence of Trim. Trim had little to fay for himfelf, ex- cept " That the Parfon had abfolutely pro- mifed to befriend him and his Wife in the Affair, to the utmoft of his Power : That the Watch-Coat was certainly in his Power, and that he might ftill give it him ifhepleafed." To this, the Parfon's Reply was fhort, but ftrong, "That nothing was in his Power to do, but what he could do honeft- ly ; That in giving the Coat to him and his Wife, he fhould do a manifeft Wrong to the next Sexton ; the great Watch-Coat being the moft comfortable Part of the Place : That he fhould, moreover, injure the Right of his own SuccefTor, who would be juft fo much a worfe Patron, as the Worth of the Coat amounted to ; and in a a Word, he declared that his whole Intent in promifing that Coat, was Charity to Trim ; but Wrong to no Man ; that was a Referve, he faid, made in all Cafes of this Kind: and he declared folemnly, in Verbo Sacerdotis, That this was his Meaning, and was fo underftood by Trim himfelf." With the Weight of this Truth, and the great good Senfe and ftrong Reafon which accompanied all the Parfon faid upon the Subject, poor Trim was driven to his laft Shift, and begg'd he might be fuffered to plead his Right and Title to the Watch- Coat, if not by Promife, at leaft by Servi- ces. It was well known how much he was entitled to it upon thefe Scores : That he had black' d the Parfon's Shoes without Count, and greafed his Boots above fifty Times : That he had run for Eggs into the Town upon all Occafions ; whetted the Knives at all Hours ; catched his Horfe and rubbed him down: That for his Wife me had been ready upon all Occafions to charr for them ; and neither he nor me, to the beft of his Remembrance, ever took a Farthing, or any thing beyond a Mug of Ale. To this Account of his Services he B 2 begg'd begg'd Leave to add thofe of his Wifhes, which, he faid, had been equally great. He affirmed, and was ready, he faid, to make it appear, by Numbers of WitnefTes, "He had drank his Reverence's Health a thoufand Times, (by the bye, he did not add out of the Parfon's own Ale) : That he not only drank his Health, but wifh'd it; and never came to the Houfe, but afk'd his Man kindly how he did ; that in par- ticular, about half a Year ago, when his Reverence cut his Fiifger in paring an Ap- ple, he went half a Mile to afk a cunning Woman, what was good to ftanch Blood, and actually returned with a Cobweb in his Breeches Pocket: Nay, fays Trim, it was not a Fortnight ago, when your Reve- rence took that violent Purge, that I went to the far End of the whole Town to bor- row you a Clofe-ftool, and came back, as my Neighbours, who flouted me, will all bear witnefs, with the Pan upon my Head, and never thought it too much." Trim concluded his pathetick Remon- ftrance with faying, " He hoped his Re- verence's Heart would not fuffer him to requite ib many faithful Services by fb un- kind t*] kind a Return : That if it was fo, as he was the firft, fo he hoped he ihould be the laft, Example of a Man of his Condition fo treated." This Plan of Trim's De- fence, which Trim had put himfelf upon, could admit of no other Reply but a ge- neral Smile. Upon the whole, let me inform you, That all that could be faid, pro and con, on both Sides, being fairly heard, it was plain, That Trim, in every Part of this Affair, had behaved very ill ; and one Thing, which was never expelled to be known of him, happening in the Courfe of this De- bate to come out againft him ; namely, That he had gone and told the Parfon, be- fore he had ever fet Foot in his Parifh, That John his Parifh-Clerk, his Church- Wardens, and fome of the Heads of the Parifh, were a Parcel of Scoundrels. Up on the Upfhot, Trim was kick'd out of Doors ; and told, at his Peril, never to come there again. At firft Trim huff'd and bounced most terribly ; fwore he would get a War- rant ; then nothing would ferve him but he he would call a Bye-Law, and tell the whole Parifh how the Parfon had mifufed him; but cooling of that, as fearing the Parfon might poffibly bind him over to his good Behaviour, and, for aught he knew, might fend him to the Houfe of Correc- tion, he let the Parfon alone ; and to re- venge himfelf, falls foul upon his Clerk, who had no more to do in the Quarrel than you or I ; rips up the Promife of the old- caft Pair of black Plufh Breeches, and raifes an Uproar in the Town about it, not- withftanding it had flept ten Years. But all this you muft know, is look'd upon in no other Light, but as an artful ftroke of Generalfliip in Trim, to raife a Duft, and cover himfelf under the difgraceful Cha- ftifement he had undergone. If your curiolity is not yet fatiffied, I will now proceed to relate the Battle of the Breeches, in the fame exa6t Manner I have done that of the Watch-Coat. Be it known then, that, about ten Years ago, when "John was appointed Pa- rim-Clerk of this Church, this faid Mafter Trim took no fmall Pains to get into John's good ['5] good Graces; in order, as it afterwards appeared, to coax a Promife out of him of a Pair of Breeches, which "John had then by him, of black Plufh, not much the worfe for wearing ; Trim only begging for God's fake to have them beftowed up- on him when John should think fit to caft them. Trim was one of thofe kind of Men who loved a Bit of Finery in his Heart, and would rather have a tatter'd Rag of a Bet- ter Body's, than the beft plain whole Thing his Wife could fpin him. John, who was naturally unfufpicious, made no more Difficulty of promifing the Breeches, than the Parfon had done in pro- mifing the Great Coat ; and, indeed, with fomething lefs Referve, becaufe the Breeches were Johns own, and he could give them, without Wrong, to whom he thought fit. It happened, I was going to fay un- luckily, but I fhould rather fay, moft luckily, for Trim, for he was the only Gainer by it, that a Quarrel, about fbme fix fix or eight Weeks after this, broke out between the late Parfon of the Parifh and John the Clerk. Somebody (and it was thought to be Nobody but Trim] had put it into the Parfon's Head, " That John's Defk in the Church was, at the leaft, four Inches higher than it fhould be : That the Thing gave Offenfe, and was indecorous, inafmuch as it ap- proach'd too near upon a Level with the Parfon's Defk itfelf. This Hardfhip the Parfon complained of loudly, and told John one Day after Prayers, " He could bear it no longer : And would have it al- ter'd and brought down as it fhould be." John made no other Reply, but, " That the Defk was not of his raifing : That 'twas not one Hair Breadth higher than he found it ; and that as he found it, fo would he leave it : In fhort, he would neither make an Encroachment, nor would he fuffer one." The late Parfon might have his Virtues, but the leading Part of his Character was not Humility ; fo that Johns Stiffnefs in this Point was not likely to reconcile Mat- ters. This was Trim's Harveft. After ['7] After a friendly Hint to 'John to ftand his Ground, away hies Trim to make his Market at the Vicarage : What paiPd there, I will not fay, intending not to be uncharitable; fo fhall content myfelf with only gueffing at it, from the fudden change that appeared in Trim's Drefs for the bet- ter ; for he had left his old ragged Coat, Hat and Wig, in the Stable, and was come forth ftrutting acrofs the Church-yard, y'clad in a good creditable caft Coat, large Hat and Wig, which the Parfon had just given him. Ho ! Ho ! Hollo ! "John \ cries Trim, in an infblent Bravo, as loud as ever he could bawl See here, my Lad ! how fine I am. The more Shame for you, anfwered yobn, ferioufly. Do you think, Trim, fays he, fuch Finery, gain'd by fuch Services, becomes you, or can wear well ? Fye upon it, Trim ; I could not have expected this from you, confi- dering what Friendfhip you pretended, and how kind I have ever been to you : how many Shillings and Sixpences I have generoufly lent you in your Diftref- fes ? Nay, it was but t'other Day that I promifed you thefe black Pluih Breeches I have on. Rot your Breeches, quoth C Trim Trim-, for Trim's Brain was half turn'd with his new Finery : Rot your Breeches, fays he, I would not take them up, were they laid at my Door ; give 'em, and be d d to you, to whom you like ; I would have you to know I can have a bet- ter Pair at the Parfon's any Day in the Week: John told him plainly, as his Word had once pafFd him, he had a Spi- rit above taking Advantage of his Info- lence, in giving them away to another : But, to tell him his Mind freely, he thought he had got fo many Favours of that Kind, and was fo likely to get many more for the fame Services, of the Parfbn, that he had better give up the Breeches, with good Nature, to fome one who would be more thankful for them. Here John mentioned Mark Slender, (who, it feems, the Day before, had afk'd John for 'em) not knowing they were un- der Promife to Trim. " Come, Trim, fays he, let poor Mark have 'em, You know he has not a Pair to his A : Befides, you fee he is juft of my Size, and they will fit him to a T ; where- as, if I give 'em to you, look ye, they are [-9] are not worth much ; and, befides, you could not get your Backfide into them, if you had them, without tearing them all to Pieces." Every Tittle of this was moft undoubt- edly true ; for Trim, you muft know, by foul Feeding, and playing the good Fel- low at the Parfon's, was grown fomewhat grofs about the lower Parts, if not higher: So that, as all John faid upon the Occa- fion was fact, Trim with much ado, and after a hundred Hum's and Hah's, at laft, out of mere compaffion to Mark, Jigns, feals and delivers up all fttgljt, anfc $retenfiong to&atfoefcer, in anfc to , anti nctoer more to call tlje faiti Claim in ftion. All this Renunciation was fet forth in an ample Manner, to be in pure Pity to Mark's Nakednefs ; but the Secret was, Trim had an Eye to, and firmly expected in his own Mind, the great Green Pulpit- Cloth and old Velvet Cufhion, which were that very Year to be taken down ; C 2 which which, by the Bye, could he have wheed- led John a fecond Time out of 'em, as he hoped, he had made up the Lofs of his Breeches Seven-fold. Now, you muft know, this Pulpit- Cloth and Cufhion were not in Johns Gift, but in the Church- Wardens, &c. However, as I faid above, that John was a leading Man in the Parifh, "Trim knew he could help him to them if he would : But John had got a Surfeit of him ; fo, when the Pulpit-cloth, &c were ta- ken down, they were immediately given (John having a great fay in it) to William Doe, who underftood very well what Ufe to make of them. As for the old Breeches, poor Mark Slender lived to wear them but a fhort Time, and they got into the Pofleffion of Lorry Slim, an unlucky Wight, by whom they are ftill worn ; in Truth, as you will guefs, they are very thin by this Time: But Lorry has a light Heart ; and what recommends them to him, is this, that, as thin as they are, he knows that Trim, let him fay what he will to the con- trary, ftill envies the PoffeJ/or of them, and and, with all his Pride, would be very glad to wear them after him. Upon this Footing have thefe Affairs flept quietly for near ten Years, and would have flept for ever, but for the un- lucky Kicking-Bout ; which, as I faid, has ripp'd this Squabble up afrem : So that it was no longer than laft Week, that Trim met and infulted John in the public Town- Way, before a hundred People ; tax'd him with the Promife of the old-caft-Pair-of-black-Breeches, not- withftanding Trim's fblemn Renunciation; twitted him with the Pulpit-Cloth and Velvet Cufhion, as good as told him, he was ignorant of the common Duties of his Clerkfhip; adding, very infolently, That he knew not fo much as to give out a common Pfalm in Tune. John contented himfelf with giving a plain Anfwer to every Article that Trim had laid to his Charge, and appealed to his Neighbours who remembered the whole Affair ; and as he knew there was never any Thing to be got in wreftling with a Chim- Chimney-S weeper, he was going to take Leave of Trim for ever. But, hold, the Mob by this Time had got round them, and their High Might ineffes infifted upon having Trim tried upon the Spot. Trim was accordingly tried ; and, after a full Hearing, was convicted afecond Time, and handled more roughly by one or more of them, than even at the Parfon's. Trim, fays one, are you not afhamed of yourfelf, to make all this Rout and Di- fturbance in the Town, and fet Neigh- bours together by the Ears, about an old- worn - out - Pair -of- caft - Breeches, not worth Half a Crown ? Is there a caft- Coat, or a Place in the whole Town, that will bring you in a Shilling, but what you have fnapp'd up, like a greedy Hound as you are? In the firft Place, are you not Sexton and Dog-Whipper, worth Three Pounds a Year ? Then you begg'd the Church- Wardens to let your Wife have the Wafh- ing and Darning of the Surplice and Church-Linen, which brings you in Thir- teen teen Shillings and Four Pence. Then you have Six Shillings and Eight Pence for oiling and winding up the Clock, both paid you at Eafter. The Finder's Place, which is worth Forty Shillings a Year, you have got that t oo . You are the B ailiff, which the late Parfon got you, which brings you in Forty Shillings more. Befidesall this, you have Six Pounds a Year, paid you Quarter- ly for being Mole-Catcher to the Parifh. Aye, fays the lucklefs Wight above-men- tioned, (who was ftanding clofe to him with his Plufh Breeches on) "You are not only Mole-Catcher, Trim, but you catch STRAY CONIES too in the Dark\ and you pretend a Licence for it, which, I trow, will be look'd into at the next Quarter Ses- sions." I maintain it, I have a Licence, fays Trim, blufhing as red as Scarlet : I have a Licence, and as I farm a War- ren in the next Parifh, I will catch Conies every Hour of the Night. Tou catch Conies! cries a toothlefs old Woman, who was juft paffing by. This fet the Mob a laughing, and fent every Man home in perfect good Humour, except ['4] except Trim, who waddled very flowly off with that Kind of inflexible Gravity only to be equalled by one Animal in the whole Creation, and furpafled by none. I am, SIR, Yours, &c. &c. N S. t'i] POSTSCRIPT. I Have broke open my Letter to inform you, that I miff'd the Opportunity of fending it by the Meffenger, who I ex- pelted would have called upon me in his Return through this Village to Tork, fo it has laid a Week or ten Days by me. I am not forry for the Difappoint- ment, becaufe fomething has fince hap- pened, in Continuation of this Affair, which I am thereby enabled to tranfmit to you, all under one Trouble. When I finiihed the above Account, I thought (as did every Soul in the Parifh) Trim had met with fo thorough a Rebuff from John the Parifh-Clerk and the Town's Folks, who all took againft him, that Trim would be glad to be quiet, and let the Matter reft. But, it feems, it is not half an Hour ago fmce Trim fallied forth again; and, having borrowed a Sow-Gelder's Horn, with hard Blowing he got the whole Town round him, and endeavoured to raife a Difturb- D ance, [26] ance, and fight the whole Battle over again : That he had been ufed in the laft Fray worfe than a Dog; not by John the Parifh-Clerk, for I fhou'd not, quoth Trim, have valued him a Rum fingle Hands: ButalltheTownfidedwithhim, and twelve Men in Buckram fet upon me all at once, and kept me in Play at Sword's Point for three Hours together. Befides, quoth 'Trim, there were two mifbegotten Knaves in Kendal Green, who lay all the while in Ambufh in yobns own Houfe, and they all fixteen came upon my Back, and let drive at me together. A Plague, fays Trim, of all Cowards! Trim repeated this Story above a Dozen Times ; which made fome of the Neigbours pity him, thinking the poor Fellow crack-brain'd, and that he actually believed what he faid. After this Trim dropp'd the Affair of the Breeches, and begun a frefh Difpute about the Reading-DeJk t which I told you had occafioned fome fmall Difpute be- tween the late Parfon and John, fome Years ago. This Reading-DeJk, as you will obferve, was but an Epifode wove into the main Story by the Bye ; for the main Affair was was the Battle of the Breeches and Great Watcb-Coat 9 However, Trim being at laft driven out of thefe two Citadels, he has feized hold, in his Retreat, of this Reading-DeJk, with a View, as it feems, to take Shelter behind it. I cannot fay but the man has fought it out obftinately enough ; and, had his Caufe been good, I fhould have really pi- tied him. For when he was driven out of the Great Watch Coat, you see, he did not run away ; no, he retreated be- hind the Breeches ; and, when he could make nothing of it behind the Breeches, he got behind the Reading-Deft. To what other Hold Trim will next retreat, the Politicians of this Village are not agreed. Some think his next Move will be towards the Rear of the Parfon's Boat ; but, as it is thought he cannot make a long Stand there, others are of Opinion, That Trim will once more in his Life get hold of the Parfon's Horfe, and charge upon him, or perhaps behind him. But as the Horfe is not eafy to be caught, the more general Opinion is, That, when he is driven out of the Reading-DeJk, he will make his laft Retreat in fuch a Manner as, if poffible, D 2 to [ 2 8] to gain the Clofe- Stool, and defend him- felf behind it to the very laft Drop. If Trim fhould make this Movement, by my Advice he fhould be left befides his Cita- del, in full Pofleffion of the Field of Battle ; where, 'tis certain, he will keep every Body a League off, and may pop by himfelf till he is weary : Befides, as Trim feems bent upon purging himfelf, and may have Abundance of foul Humours to work off, I think he cannot be better placed. But this is all Matter of Speculation. Let me carry you back to Matter of Fad:, and tell you what Kind of a Stand Trim has adhially made behind the faid Dejk. " Neighbours and Townfmen all, I will be fworn before my Lord Mayor, That John and his nineteen Men in Buckram, have abufed me worfe than a Dog ; for they told you that I play'd faft and go-loose with the late Parfon and him, in that old Difpute of theirs about the Reading-DeJk ; and that I made Matters worfe between them, and not better." Of this Charge, Trim declared he was as innocent as the Child that was unborn : That [9] That he would be Book-fworn he had no Hand in it. He produced a ftrong Wit- nefs; and, moreover, infinuated, that John himfelf, inftead of being angry for what he had done in it, had actually thank'd him. Aye, 'Trim, fays the Wight in the Plufh Breeches, but that was, Trim, the Day before John found thee out. Beiides, Trim, there is nothing in that: For, the very Year that thou waft made Town's Finder, thou knoweft well, that I both thank'd thee myfelf ; and, moreover, gave thee a good warm Supper for turning John Lund's Cows and Horfes out of my Hard-Corn Clofe; which if thou had' ft not done, (as thou told'ft me) I fhould have loft my whole Crop: Whereas, John Lund and Thomas Patt, who are both here to teftify, and will take their Oaths on't, That thou thyfelf waft the very Man who fet the Gate open; and, after all, it was not thee Trim, 'twas the Blackfmith's poor Lad who turn'd them out : So that a Man may be thank'd and rewarded too for a good Turn which he never did, nor ever olid intend. Trim could not fuftain this unexpected Stroke ; fo Trim march'd off the Field, without [30] without Colours flying, or his Horn found- ing, or any other Enfigns of Honour whatever. Whether after this Trim intends to rally a fecond Time, or whether Trim may not take it into his Head to claim the Vic- tory, no one but Trim himfelf can in- form you : However, the general Opi- nion, upon the whole, is this, That, in three feveral pitch* d Battles, Trim has been fo trimm'd, as never difaftrous Hero was trimm'd before him. THE [3-] THE KEY. THIS Romance was, by fome Mif- chance or other, dropp'd in the Minfter-Tard, Tork, and pick'd up by a Member of a fmall Political Club in that City ; where it was carried, and publickly read to the Members the laft Club Night. It was inftantly agreed to, by a great Majority, That it was a Political Romance ; but concerning what State or Potentate, could not fo eafily be fettled amongft them. The Prefident of the Night, who is thought to be as clear and quick-fighted as any one of the whole Club in Things of this Nature, difcovered plainly, That the Difturbances therein fet forth, related to thofe on the Continent : That Trim could be Nobody but the King of France, by whofe fhifting and intriguing Behaviour, all Europe was fet together by the Ears : That Trim's Wife was certainly the Em- prefs t who are as kind together, fays he, as any Man and Wife can be for their Lives. Lives. The more Shame for 'em, fays an Alderman, low to himfelf. Agreeable to this Key, continues the Prefident, The Parfon, who I think is a moft excellent Character, is His Moft Excellent Ma- jefty King George ; John, the Parifh- Clerk, is the King of Prujfia ; who, by the Manner of hisfirft entering Saxony, fhew'd the World moft evidently, That he did know how to lead out the Pfalm, and in Tune and Time too, notwithftanding Trim's vile Infult upon him in that Parti- cular. But who do you think, fays a Sur- geon and Man-Midwife, who fat next him, (whofe Coat-Button the Prefident, in the Earneftnefsof this Explanation, had got faft hold of, and had thereby partly drawn him over to his Opinion) Who do you think, ME Prefident, fays he, are meant by the Church- Wardens, Sides- Men, Mark Slender, Lorry Slim, &c. Who do I think ? fays he, Why, Why, Sir, as I take the Thing, the Church-Wardens and Sides-Men, are the Electors and the other Princes who form the Germanick Body. And as for the other fubordinate Characters of Mark Slim ? the unlucky Wight in the Plufh Breeches, the Parfon's Man [33] Man who was fo often out of the Way, &c. &c. these, to be fure are the fe- veral Marjhah and Generals, who fought, or fhould have fought, under them the laft Campaign. The Men in Buckram, con- tinued the Prefident, are the Grofs of the King of PruJJids Army, who was zsftiff a Body of Men as are in the World : And Trim's faying they were twelve, and then nineteen, is a Wipe for the BruJJels Gazet- teer, who, to my Knowledge, was never two Weeks in the fame Story, about that or any thing elfe. As for the reft of the Romance, continu- ed the Prefident, it fufficiently explains it- felf, The Old-caJl-Pair-of-Black-Plufh- Breeches muft be Saxony, which the Elec- tor, you fee, has left off wearing : And as for the Great Watch-Coat, which, you know, covers all, it fignifies all Europe-, comprehending, at leaft, fo many of its different States and Dominions, as we have any Concern with in the prefent War. I proteft, fays a Gentleman who fat next but one to the Prefident, and who, it feems, was the Parfon of the Parim, a E Mem- [34] Member not only of the Political, but alfo of a Mufical Club in the next Street ; I proteft, fays he, if this Explanation is right, which I think it is, That the whole makes a very fine Symbol. You have always fome Mufical Inftrument or other in your Head, I think, fays the Al- derman. Mufical Inftrument ! replies the Parfon, in Aftonifhment, Mr. Alder- man, I mean an Allegory ; and I think the greedy Diipofition of Trim and his Wife, in ripping the Great Watch-Coat to Pieces, in order to convert it into a Petticoat for the one, and a Jerkin for the other, is one of the moft beautiful of the Kind I ever met with ; and will mew all the World what have been the true Views and Inten- tions of the Houfes of Bourbon and A u- Jiria in this abominable Coalition, I might have called it Whoredom : Nay, fays the Alderman, 'tis downright Adul- terydom, or nothing. This Hypothefis of the Prefident's ex- plain' d every Thing in the Romance ex- treamly well ; and, withall, was delivered with fo much Readinefs and Air of Cer- tainty, as begot an Opinion in two Thirds of the Club, that M Prefident was adfcu- ally [35] ally the Author of the Romance himfelf : But a Gentleman who fat on the oppoiite Side of the Table, who had come piping- hot from reading the Hiftory of King Wil- liam's and Queen Anne's Wars, and who was thought, at the Bottom, to envy the Preiident the Honour both of the Romance and Explanation too, gave an entire new Turn to it all. He acquainted the Club, That ME Preiident was altogether wrong in every Suppofition he had made, except that one, where the Great Watch-Coat was faid by him to reprefent JLurope, or at leaft a great Part of it : So far he acknowledged he was pretty right ; but that he had not gone far enough backwards into our Hif- tory to come at the Truth. He then ac- quainted them, that the dividing the Great Watch-Coat did, and could, allude to no- thing else in the World but the Partition- Treaty ; which, by the Bye, he told them, was the moft unhappy and fcandalous Tranfaction in all King William's Life: It was that falfe Step, and that only, fays he, riling from his Chair, and ftriking his Hand upon the Table with great Violence ; it was that falfe Step, fays he, knitting his Brows E 2 and 1 36] and throwing his Pipe down upon the Ground, that has laid the Foundation of all the Difturbances and Sorrows we feel and lament at this very Hour ; and as for Trim's giving up the Breeches, look ye, it is al- moft Word for Word copied from the French King and Dauphin's Renunciation of Spain and the West-Indies, which all the World knew (as was the very Cafe of the Breeches} were renounced by them on pur- pofe to be reclaim'd when Time mould ferve. This Explanation had too much Inge- nuity in it to be altogether flighted ; and, in Truth, the worft Fault it had, feem'd to be the prodigious Heat of it; which (as an Apothecary, who fat next the Fire, ob- ferv'd, in a very low Whilper to his next Neighbour) was fo much incorporated into every Particle of it, that it was impoffible, under fuch Fermentation, it fhould work its defired Effey? Tranf- port of Rage is a little over, they will grieve you more too. prim a ejl h