No. 131. Afternoon to every Chance-comer; that will be the Tuesday, Master of his own Time, and the Pursuer of his own July 31, 1711, Inclinations, makes but a very unsociable Figure in this kind of Life, I shall therefore retire into the Town, if I may make use of that Phrase, and get into the Crowd again as fast as I can, in order to be alone, I can there raise what Speculations I please upon others without being observed my self, and at the same time enjoy all the Advantages of Company with all the Privileges of Solitude. In the mean while, to finish the Month, and conclude these my Rural Speculations, I shall here insert a Letter from my Friend WILL HONEYCOMB, who has not lived a Month for these forty Years out of the Smoke of London, and rallies me after his way upon my Country Life.

'Dear SPEC

I suppose this Letter will find thee picking of Daisies, or smelling to a Lock of Hay, or passing away thy time in some innocent Country Diversion of the like nature, I have however Orders from the Club to summon thee up to Town, being all of us cursedly afraid thou wilt not be able to relish our Company, after thy Conversations with Moll. White and Will. Wimble. Prithee don't send us up any more Stories of a Cock and a Bull, nor frighten the Town with Spirits and Witches. Thy Speculations begin to smell confoundedly of Woods and Meadows. If thou dost not come up quickly, we shall conclude that thou art in Love with one of Sir ROGER'S Dairy Maids. Service to the Knight. Sir ANDREW is grown the Cock of the Club since he left us, and if he does not return quickly will make every Mother's Son of us Common-wealth's Men,

Dear SPEC

Thine Eternally,

C

WILL HONEYCOMB,'

Wednesday

August 1,

Quí, aut tempus quid postulet non videt, aut plura loquitur, 1711. aut se ostentat, aut eorum quibuscum est,, rationem non habet, is ineptus dicitur.-Tull,

HA

AVING 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 County Town at Twilight, 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, enquired of the Chamberlain in my Hearing what Company he had for the Coach? The Fellow answered, Mrs. Betty Arable, he great Fortune, and the Widow her Mother, a recruit ng Officer (who took a Place because they were to go), Young Squire Quickset her Cousin (that her Mother wished her to be married to), Ephraim the Quaker, her Guardian, and a Gentleman that had studied himself dumb rom Sir ROGER DE COVERLEY'S, I observed by what he said of my self, that according to his Office he dealt much in Intelligence; and doubted not but there was some Foundation for his Reports of the rest of the Company, as well as for the whimsical Account he gave of me, next Morning at Day-break we were all called; and I, who know 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 Coach-man, 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 Cloak-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 bok sharp, that none but one of the Ladies should have the Place he had taken fronting to the Coach-box.

The

We were in some little Time fixed in our Seats, and sat with that Dislike which People not too good-natured, usually

1711

No. 132. usually conceive of each other at first Sight The Coach Wednes jumbled us insensibly into some sort of Familiarity; and day, we had not moved above two Miles, when the Widow August 1, asked the Captain what Success he had in his Recruiting 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 glad to end his Warfare in the Service of her or her fai 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 your self, Widow, or give me to her, I will be wholly at your Disposal. I am a Soldier of Fortune, hal' 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 is fallen asleep, to be the Brideman, and,' (giving the Quaker a Clap on the Knee) he concluded, This sly Saint, who, I'll warran understands what's what as well as you or I, Widow, shall give the Bride as Father.' The Quaker, who happened to be a Man of Smartness, answered, 'Friend, I take it in good Part that thou hast given 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. Verily, it is not from thy Fullness, 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 mus hear thee. But if thou wert a Man of Understanding, thou wouldst not take Advantage of thy couragious Counten ance to abash us Children of Peace. Thou art, thou sayest, a Soldier; give Quarter to us, who cannot resis thee. Why didst thou fleer at our Friend, who feigned himself asleep? he said nothing; but how dost thou know

what

what he containeth? If thou speakest improper things No. 132, in the Hearing of this virtuous young Virgin, consider it Wednes day, as an Outrage against a distressed Person that cannot get August 1, from thee: To speak indiscreetly what we are obliged to 1711. hear, by being hasped up with thee in this publick Vehicle, is in some Degree assaulting on the high Road.'

Here Ephraim paused, and the Captain with an happy and uncommon Impudence (which can be con victed and support it self at the same time) crys, 'Faith Friend, I thank thee; I should have been a little im pertinent if thou hadst not reprimanded me. Come, hou art, I see, a smoaky old Fellow, and I'll be very orderly the ensuing Part of the Journey, I was going to give my self Airs, but Ladies I beg Pardon.'

The Captain was so little out of Humour, and our Company was so far from being sowered 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 Conduct of the Company Our Reckonings, Apartments, and Ac commodation, fell under Ephraim; and the Captain looked to all Disputes on 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 happen'd 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 one Part of us might be an Entertainment, to the other a Suffering. What therefore Ephraim said when we were almost arrived at London, had to me an Air not only of good Understanding, but good Breeding, Upon the young Lady's expressing her Satisfaction in the Journey, and declaring how delight ful it had been to her, Ephraim delivered himself as follows: 'There is no ordinary Part of humane 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 un suitable Companions to him, Such a Man when he

falleth

day, August 1,

1711

No. 132. falleth in the Way with Persons of Simplicity and Wednes Innocence, however knowing he may be in the Ways of Men, will not vaunt himself thereof; but will the rather hide his Superiority to them, that he may not be painful unto them. My good Friend,' continued 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 Apparels are but Trifles to the real Man, therefore do not think such a Man as thy self 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 rejoyce to see my peaceable Demeanour, and I should be glad to see thy Strength and Ability to protect me in it.'

we

HERE is a sort of Delight, which is alternately mixed with Terrour and Sorrow, in the Con templation of Death The Soul has its Curiosity more than ordinarily awaken'd, when it turns its Thoughts upon the Conduct of such who have behaved them selves with an Equal, a Resigned, a Chearful, a Generous or Heroick Temper in that Extremity. We are affected with these respective manners of Behaviour, as secretly believe the Part of the Dying Person imitable by our selves, or such as we imagine our selves more particularly capable of Men of exalted Minds march before us like Princes, and are, to the Ordinary Race of Mankind, rather Subjects for their Admiration than Example, However, there are no Ideas strike more forcibly upon our Imaginations, than those which are raised from Reflections upon the Exits of great and excellent Men. Innocent Men who have suffered as Criminals, tho' they were Benefactors to Humane Society, seem to be Persons of the highest Distinction, among the vastly greater number of Humane Race,

the