A justice of peace, who lives about five miles off, and is not of Sir Roger's party, has it seems said twice or thrice at his table, that he wishes Sir Roger does not harbor a Jesuit in his house, and that he thinks the gentlemen of the country would do very 5 well to make me give some account of myself.

On the other side, some of Sir Roger's friends are afraid the old knight is imposed upon by a designing fellow; and as they have heard that he converses very promiscuously when he is in town, do not 10 know but he has brought down with him some discarded Whig, that is sullen, and says nothing because he is out of place.

Such is the variety of opinions which are here entertained of me, so that I pass among some for 15 a disaffected person, and among others for a popish priest; among some for a wizard, and among others for a murderer; and all this for no other reason that I can imagine, but because I do not hoot, and halloo, and make a noise. It is true, my friend Sir 20 Roger tells them, "That it is my way," and that I am only a philosopher; but this will not satisfy them. They think there is more in me than he discovers, and that I do not hold my tongue for nothing.

For these and other reasons I shall set out for London to-morrow, having found by experience that the country is not a place for a person of my temper, who does not love jollity, and what they call good

25

neighborhood. A man that is out of humor when an unexpected guest breaks in upon him, and does not care for sacrificing an afternoon to every chancecomer, that will be the master of his own time, and 5 the pursuer of his own 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 10 speculations I please upon others without being observed myself, and at the same time enjoy all the advantages of company, with all the privileges of solitude. In the meanwhile, to finish the month, and conclude these my rural speculations, I shall 15 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.

20

"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 25 cursedly afraid thou wilt not be able to relish our company, after thy conversations with Moll White, and Will Wimble. Pr'ythee do not send us 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 dairymaids. Service to the knight. Sir Andrew is 5 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 commonwealth's-men.

"Dear Spec,

"Thine eternally,

"WILL HONEYCOMB."

No. 27. In a Stage Coach

SPECTATOR No. 132. Wednesday, August 1, 1711

Qui, aut tempus quid postulet non videt, aut plura loquitur, aut se ostentat, aut eorum quibuscum est rationem non habet, is ineptus esse dicitur.1 Tull.

10

HAVING 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 15 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, inquired of the chamberlain 2 in my hearing what company he had for the coach? 20 The fellow answered, "Mrs. Betty Arable, the great fortune, and the widow her mother; a recruiting

3

4

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. 5 himself dumb from Sir Roger de Coverley's." I observed 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 of the rest of the company, as well as for 10 the whimsical account he gave of me. The next morning at daybreak we were all called; and I who know my own natural shyness, and endeavor to be as little liable to be disputed with as possible, dressed immediately, that I might make no one 15 wait. The first preparation for our setting out was,

that the captain's half-pike 5 was placed near the coachman, and a drum behind the coach. In the meantime the drummer, the captain's equipage, was very loud, "that none of the captain's things 20 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, though invidious behavior of military men, ordered his man to look sharp, that none but one of the ladies 25 should have the place he had taken fronting 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.

ΙΟ

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 recruiting? The officer, with a frankness he believed very graceful, told her, 5 "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 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!"This was followed by a vain laugh of his own, and a deep silence of all the rest of the company. I had 15 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 20 quaker a clap on the knee, he concluded, "This sly saint, who, I will warrant, understands what is 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 25 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,

8