The first physicians by debauch were made;Excess began, and sloth sustains the trade.By chase our long-liv’d fathers earn’d their food;Toil strung the nerves, and purifi’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 man to mend.
The first physicians by debauch were made;Excess began, and sloth sustains the trade.By chase our long-liv’d fathers earn’d their food;Toil strung the nerves, and purifi’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 man to mend.
X.
104Managed.Trained.105Stone-horse.Stallion.106Staked.Impaled.107Stop-hounds.Hounds trained to go slowly and stop at a signal from the huntsman.108Mouths.Cry.109Cry.Pack.110Nice.Precise, fastidious.111Counter-tenor.Alto.112Benevolence.Good-will.113Stole away.The correct hunting cry which the Spectator should have given.114Pole.A leaping-pole carried by the huntsman, who was on foot, and thrown by him as a signal to the hounds to stop.115Monsieur Paschal.French philosopher: 1622-62.116Habit.Constitution.
104Managed.Trained.
104Managed.Trained.
105Stone-horse.Stallion.
105Stone-horse.Stallion.
106Staked.Impaled.
106Staked.Impaled.
107Stop-hounds.Hounds trained to go slowly and stop at a signal from the huntsman.
107Stop-hounds.Hounds trained to go slowly and stop at a signal from the huntsman.
108Mouths.Cry.
108Mouths.Cry.
109Cry.Pack.
109Cry.Pack.
110Nice.Precise, fastidious.
110Nice.Precise, fastidious.
111Counter-tenor.Alto.
111Counter-tenor.Alto.
112Benevolence.Good-will.
112Benevolence.Good-will.
113Stole away.The correct hunting cry which the Spectator should have given.
113Stole away.The correct hunting cry which the Spectator should have given.
114Pole.A leaping-pole carried by the huntsman, who was on foot, and thrown by him as a signal to the hounds to stop.
114Pole.A leaping-pole carried by the huntsman, who was on foot, and thrown by him as a signal to the hounds to stop.
115Monsieur Paschal.French philosopher: 1622-62.
115Monsieur Paschal.French philosopher: 1622-62.
116Habit.Constitution.
116Habit.Constitution.
Ipsi sibi somnia fingunt.Virg.Ecl.viii. ver. 108.Their own imaginations they deceive.
Ipsi sibi somnia fingunt.Virg.Ecl.viii. ver. 108.Their own imaginations they deceive.
Ipsi sibi somnia fingunt.Virg.Ecl.viii. ver. 108.
Their own imaginations they deceive.
There are some opinions in which a man should stand neuter117, without engaging118his assent to one side or the other. Such a hovering faith as this, which refuses to settle upon any determination119, is absolutely necessary in a mind that is careful to avoid errors and prepossessions. When the arguments press equally on both sides in matters that are indifferent to us, the safest method is to give up ourselves to neither.
It is with this temper of mind that I consider the subject of witchcraft. When I hear the relations that are made from all parts of the world, not only from Norway and Lapland, from the East and West Indies, but from every particular nation in Europe, I cannot forbear thinking that there is such an intercourseand commerce with evil spirits, as that which we express by the name of witchcraft. But when I consider that the ignorant and credulous parts of the world abound most in these relations, and that the persons among us, who are supposed to engage in such an infernal commerce, are people of a weak understanding and crazed imagination, and at the same time reflect upon the many impostures and delusions of this nature that have been detected in all ages, I endeavour to suspend my belief till I hear more certain accounts than any which have yet come to my knowledge. In short, when I consider the question whether there are such persons in the world as those we call witches, my mind is divided between the two opposite opinions; or rather, (to speak my thoughts freely) I believe in general that there is, and has been such a thing as witchcraft; but, at the same time, can give no credit to any particular instance of it.
I am engaged in this speculation by some occurrences that I met with yesterday, which I shall give my reader an account of at large. As I was walking with my friend Sir Roger by the side of one of his woods, an old woman applied herself to me for my charity. Her dress and figure put me in mind of the following description in Otway:—
In a close lane as I pursu’d my journey,I spy’d a wrinkled Hag, with age grown double,Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself.Her eyes with scalding rheum were gall’d and red;Cold palsy shook her head; her hands seem’d wither’d;And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapp’dThe tatter’d remnants of an old strip’d hanging,Which serv’d to keep her carcase from the cold:So there was nothing of a piece about her.Her lower weeds were all o’er coarsely patch’dWith diff’rent-colour’d rags, black, red, white, yellow,And seem’d to speak variety of wretchedness.
In a close lane as I pursu’d my journey,I spy’d a wrinkled Hag, with age grown double,Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself.Her eyes with scalding rheum were gall’d and red;Cold palsy shook her head; her hands seem’d wither’d;And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapp’dThe tatter’d remnants of an old strip’d hanging,Which serv’d to keep her carcase from the cold:So there was nothing of a piece about her.Her lower weeds were all o’er coarsely patch’dWith diff’rent-colour’d rags, black, red, white, yellow,And seem’d to speak variety of wretchedness.
As I was musing on this description, and comparing it with the object before me, the Knight told me, that this very old woman had the reputation of a witch all over the country, that her lips were observed to be always in motion, and that there was not a switch about her house which her neighbours did not believe had carried her several hundreds of miles. If she chanced to stumble, they always found sticks or straws that lay in the figure of a cross before her. If she made any mistake at church, and cried Amen in a wrong place, they never failed to conclude that she was saying her prayers backwards. There was not a maid in the parish that would take a pin of her, though she should offer a bag of money with it. She goes by the name of Moll White, and has made the country ring with several imaginary exploits which are palmed upon her. If the dairy-maid does not make the butter come so soon as she would have it, Moll White is at the bottom of the churn. If a horse sweats in the stable, Moll White has been upon his back. If a hare makes an unexpected escape from the hounds, the huntsman curses Moll White. “Nay,” (says Sir Roger) “I have known the master of the pack, upon such an occasion, send one of his servants to see if Moll White had been out that morning.”
A group of peasants watch an old hag pass by
This account raised my curiosity so far, that I begged my friend Sir Roger to go with me into her hovel, which stood in a solitary corner under the side of the wood. Upon our first entering Sir Roger winked to me, and pointed at something that stood behind the door, which, upon looking that way, I found to be an old broomstaff. At the same time he whispered me in the ear to take notice of a tabby cat that sat in the chimney-corner, which,as the old Knight told me, lay under as bad a report as Moll White herself; for, besides that Moll is said often to accompany her in the same shape, the cat is reported to have spoken twice or thrice in her life, and to have played several pranks above the capacity of an ordinary cat.
I was secretly concerned to see human nature in so much wretchedness and disgrace, but at the same time could not forbear smiling to hear Sir Roger, who is a little puzzled about the old woman, advising her as a justice of peace to avoid all communication with the Devil, and never to hurt any of her neighbour’s cattle. We concluded our visit with a bounty, which was very acceptable.
In our return home Sir Roger told me, that old Moll had been often brought before him for making children spit pins, and giving maids the nightmare; and that the country people would be tossing her into a pond, and trying experiments with her every day, if it was not for him and his chaplain.
I have since found, upon inquiry, that Sir Roger was several times staggered with the reports that had been brought him concerning this old woman, and would frequently have bound her over to the county sessions, had not his chaplain with much ado persuaded him to the contrary.
I have been the more particular120in this account, because I hear there is scarce a village in England that has not a Moll White in it. When an old woman begins to dote, and grow chargeable to a parish,she is generally turned into a witch, and fills the whole country with extravagant fancies, imaginary distempers, and terrifying dreams. In the meantime, the poor wretch that is the innocent occasion of so many evils begins to be frighted at herself, and sometimes confesses secret commerce121and familiarities that her imagination forms in a delirious old age. This frequently cuts off charity from the greatest objects of compassion, and inspires people with a malevolence towards those poor decrepit parts of our species, in whom human nature is defaced by infirmity and dotage.
L.
117Neuter.Neutral.118Engaging.Binding.119Determination.Fixed opinion.120Been the more particular.Given fuller details.121Commerce.Intercourse.
117Neuter.Neutral.
117Neuter.Neutral.
118Engaging.Binding.
118Engaging.Binding.
119Determination.Fixed opinion.
119Determination.Fixed opinion.
120Been the more particular.Given fuller details.
120Been the more particular.Given fuller details.
121Commerce.Intercourse.
121Commerce.Intercourse.
Haeret lateri lethalis arundo.Virg.Æn.iv. ver. 73.The fatal dartSticks in his side, and rankles in his heart.Dryden.
Haeret lateri lethalis arundo.Virg.Æn.iv. ver. 73.The fatal dartSticks in his side, and rankles in his heart.Dryden.
Haeret lateri lethalis arundo.Virg.Æn.iv. ver. 73.
The fatal dartSticks in his side, and rankles in his heart.Dryden.
This agreeable seat is surrounded with so many pleasing walks, which are struck out of a wood, in the midst of which the house stands, that one can hardly ever be weary of rambling from one labyrinth of delight to another. To one used to live in a city the charms of the country are so exquisite, that the mind is lost in a certain transport which raises us above ordinary life, and is yet not strong enough to be inconsistent with tranquillity.This state of mind was I in, ravished with the murmur of waters, the whisper of breezes, the singing of birds; and whether I looked up to the heavens, down to the earth, or turned on the prospects around me, still struck with new sense of pleasure; when I found by the voice of my friend, who walked by me, that we had insensibly strolled into the grove sacred to the widow. “This woman,” says he, “is of all others the most unintelligible; she either designs to marry, or she does not. What is the most perplexing of all, is, that she doth not either say to her lovers she has any resolution against that condition of life in general, or that she banishes them; but, conscious of her own merit, she permits their addresses, without fear of any ill consequence, or want of respect, from their rage or despair. She has that in her aspect, against which it is impossible to offend. A man whose thoughts are constantly bent upon so agreeable an object, must be excused if the ordinary occurrences in conversation122are below his attention. I call her indeed perverse; but, alas! why do I call her so? Because her superior merit is such, that I cannot approach her without awe, that my heart is checked by too much esteem: I am angry that her charms are not more acceptable, that I am more inclined to worship than salute123her: how often have I wished her unhappy, that I might have an opportunity of serving her? and how often troubled in that very imagination, at giving her the pain of being obliged? Well, I haveled a miserable life in secret upon her account; but fancy she would have condescended to have some regard for me, if it had not been for that watchful animal her confidant.
“Of all persons under the sun” (continued he, calling me by my name) “be sure to set a mark upon confidants: they are of all people the most impertinent. What is most pleasant124to observe in them, is, that they assume to themselves the merit of the persons whom they have in their custody. Orestilla is a great fortune, and in wonderful danger of surprises, therefore full of suspicions of the least indifferent thing, particularly careful of new acquaintance, and of growing too familiar with the old. Themista, her favourite woman, is every whit as careful of whom she speaks to, and what she says. Let the ward be a beauty, her confidant shall treat you with an air of distance; let her be a fortune, and she assumes the suspicious behaviour of her friend and patroness. Thus it is that very many of our unmarried women of distinction, are to all intents and purposes married, except the consideration of125different sexes. They are directly under the conduct of their whisperer; and think they are in a state of freedom, while they can prate with one of these attendants of all men in general, and still avoid the man they most like. You do not see one heiress in a hundred whose fate does not turn upon this circumstance of choosing a confidant. Thus it isthat the lady is addressed to, presented126and flattered, only by proxy, in her woman. In my case, how is it possible that—” Sir Roger was proceeding in his harangue, when we heard the voice of one speaking very importunately, and repeating these words, “What, not one smile?” We followed the sound till we came to a close thicket, on the other side of which we saw a young woman sitting as it were in a personated sullenness127, just over a transparent fountain. Opposite to her stood Mr. William, Sir Roger’s master of the game128. The Knight whispered me, “Hist! these are lovers.” The huntsman looking earnestly at the shadow of the young maiden in the stream, “Oh thou dear picture, if thou couldst remain there in the absence of that fair creature whom you represent in the water, how willingly could I stand here satisfied for ever, without troubling my dear Betty herself with any mention of her unfortunate William, whom she is angry with: but alas! when she pleases to be gone, thou wilt also vanish—yet let me talk to thee while thou dost stay. Tell my dearest Betty thou dost not more depend upon her, than does her William: her absence will make away with me as well as thee. If she offers to remove thee, I will jump into these waves to lay hold on thee; herself, her own dear person, I must never embrace again.—Still do youhear me without one smile—It is too much to bear—” He had no sooner spoke these words, but he made an offer of throwing himself into the water: at which his mistress started up, and at the next instant he jumped across the fountain and met her in an embrace. She, half recovering from her fright, said, in the most charming voice imaginable, and with a tone of complaint, “I thought how well you would drown yourself. No, no, you won’t drown yourself till you have taken your leave of Susan Holiday.” The huntsman, with a tenderness that spoke the most passionate love, and with his cheek close to hers, whispered the softest vows of fidelity in her ear, and cried, “Don’t, my dear, believe a word Kate Willow says; she is spiteful, and makes stories because she loves to hear me talk to herself for your sake.” “Look you there,” quoth Sir Roger, “do you see there, all mischief comes from confidants! But let us not interrupt them; the maid is honest, and the man dares not be otherwise, for he knows I loved her father: I will interpose in this matter, and hasten the wedding. Kate Willow is a witty mischievous wench in the neighbourhood, who was a beauty, and makes me hope I shall see the perverse widow in her condition. She was so flippant with her answers to all the honest fellows that came near her, and so very vain of her beauty, that she has valued herself upon her charms till they are ceased. She therefore now makes it her business to prevent other young women from being more discreet than she was herself: however, the saucything said the other day well enough, ‘Sir Roger and I must make a match, for we are both despised by those we loved.’ The hussy has a great deal of power wherever she comes, and has her share of cunning.
“However, when I reflect upon this woman, I do not know whether in the main I am the worse for having loved her: whenever she is recalled to my imagination my youth returns, and I feel a forgotten warmth in my veins. This affliction in my life has streaked all my conduct with a softness, of which I should otherwise have been incapable. It is, perhaps, to this dear image in my heart owing that I am apt to relent, that I easily forgive, and that many desirable things are grown into my temper, which I should not have arrived at by better motives than the thought of being one day hers. I am pretty well satisfied such a passion as I have had is never well cured; and, between you and me, I am often apt to imagine it has had some whimsical129effect upon my brain: for I frequently find, that in my most serious discourse I let fall some comical familiarity of speech, or odd phrase, that makes the company laugh; however, I cannot but allow she is a most excellent woman. When she is in the country I warrant she does not run into dairies, but reads upon130the nature of plants; but has a glass-hive, and comes into the garden out of books to see them work, and observe the policies131of their commonwealth. Sheunderstands everything. I would give ten pounds to hear her argue with my friend Sir Andrew Freeport about trade. No, no, for all she looks so innocent as it were, take my word for it she is no fool.”
T.
122Conversation.General intercourse.123Salute.Kiss.124Pleasant.Ludicrous.125Except the consideration of.Except in respect of.126Presented.I.e., with gifts.127Personated sullenness.Pretended, or possibly the image of, sullenness.128Master of the game.Huntsman.129Whimsical.Fantastic.130Upon.About.131Policies.Organisation.
122Conversation.General intercourse.
122Conversation.General intercourse.
123Salute.Kiss.
123Salute.Kiss.
124Pleasant.Ludicrous.
124Pleasant.Ludicrous.
125Except the consideration of.Except in respect of.
125Except the consideration of.Except in respect of.
126Presented.I.e., with gifts.
126Presented.I.e., with gifts.
127Personated sullenness.Pretended, or possibly the image of, sullenness.
127Personated sullenness.Pretended, or possibly the image of, sullenness.
128Master of the game.Huntsman.
128Master of the game.Huntsman.
129Whimsical.Fantastic.
129Whimsical.Fantastic.
130Upon.About.
130Upon.About.
131Policies.Organisation.
131Policies.Organisation.
Comes jucundus in via pro vehiculo est.Publ. Syr.Frag.An agreeable companion upon the road is as good as a coach.
Comes jucundus in via pro vehiculo est.Publ. Syr.Frag.
Comes jucundus in via pro vehiculo est.Publ. Syr.Frag.
An agreeable companion upon the road is as good as a coach.
A 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 with 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 public: a man is more sure of his conduct, when the verdict 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 his neighbourhood. I lately met with two or three odd instances of that general respect which is shown tothe good old Knight. He would needs carry Will Wimble and myself with him to the county assizes: as we were upon the road Will Wimble joined 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 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 Act132, 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 neighbour if he did not destroy so many partridges: in short, he is a very sensible man; shoots flying; and has been several times foreman of the petty jury.
“The other that rides along with him is Tom Touchy, a fellow famous for taking the law of everybody. There is not one in the town where he lives that he has not sued at the quarter sessions. The rogue had once the impudence to go to law with the widow. 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 inclosed to defray the charges of the prosecution: his father left him fourscore pounds a year; but he has cast and been cast133so often, that he is not now worth thirty. Isuppose he is going upon the old business of the willow tree.”
A group of riders with a dog
As Sir Roger was giving 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. Touchy 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, upon a round trot134; and after havingpaused some time told them, with the air of a man who would not give his judgment rashly, that much might be said on both sides. They were neither of them dissatisfied with the Knight’s determination, because neither of them found himself in the wrong by it: upon which we made the best of our way to the assizes.
The court was sat before Sir Roger came; but notwithstanding all the justices had taken their places upon the bench, they made room for the old Knight at the head of them; who for his reputation in the county took occasion to whisper in the judge’s ear, “That he was glad his Lordship had met with so much good weather in his circuit.” I was listening to the proceeding of the court with much attention, and infinitely pleased with that great appearance and solemnity which so properly accompanies such a public 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.
Upon his first rising the court was hushed, and a general whisper ran among the country people, that Sir Roger was up. The speech he made was so little to the purpose, that I shall not trouble my readers with an account of it; and I 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.
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 little admiring his courage, that was not afraid to speak to the judge.
In our return home we met with a very odd accident135; which I cannot forbear relating, because it shows how desirous 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 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 Knight’s head had hung out upon the road about a week before he himself knew anything of the matter. As soon as Sir Roger 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 him too high a compliment; 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 charge136of it. Accordingly they got a painter by the Knight’s directions to add a pair of whiskers to the face, and by a little aggravation137of the features to change it into the Saracen’s Head. I should not have known this story had not the innkeeper, 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 cheerfulness, related the particulars above mentioned, and ordered the head to be brought 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 conjuring138me to tell him whether it was not still more like himself than a Saracen, I composed my countenance in the best manner I could, and replied, that much 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.
L.
132Game Act.See note on p. 19.133Cast and been cast.Won and lost his case.134Upon a round trot.While trotting briskly.135Accident.Incident.136Charge.Expense.137Aggravation.Exaggeration.138Conjuring.Adjuring, entreating.
132Game Act.See note on p. 19.
132Game Act.See note on p. 19.
133Cast and been cast.Won and lost his case.
133Cast and been cast.Won and lost his case.
134Upon a round trot.While trotting briskly.
134Upon a round trot.While trotting briskly.
135Accident.Incident.
135Accident.Incident.
136Charge.Expense.
136Charge.Expense.
137Aggravation.Exaggeration.
137Aggravation.Exaggeration.
138Conjuring.Adjuring, entreating.
138Conjuring.Adjuring, entreating.
Semperque recentesConvectare juvat praedas, et vivere rapto.Virg.Æn.vii. ver. 748.Hunting their sport, and plund’ring was their trade.Dryden.
Semperque recentesConvectare juvat praedas, et vivere rapto.Virg.Æn.vii. ver. 748.Hunting their sport, and plund’ring was their trade.Dryden.
Semperque recentesConvectare juvat praedas, et vivere rapto.Virg.Æn.vii. ver. 748.
Hunting their sport, and plund’ring was their trade.Dryden.
As I was yesterday riding out in the fields with my friend Sir Roger, we saw at a little distance from us a troop of gipsies. Upon the first discovery of them, my friend was in some doubt whether he should not exert139the Justice of the Peace upon such a band of lawless vagrants; but not having his clerk with him, who is a necessary counsellor on these occasions, and fearing that his poultry might fare the worse for it, he let the thought drop: but at the same time gave me a particular account of the mischiefs they do in the country, in stealing people’s goods and spoiling their servants. “If a stray piece of linen hangs upon an hedge,” says Sir Roger, “they are sure to have it; if the hog loses his way in the fields, it is ten to one but he becomes their prey; our geese cannot live in peace for them; if a man prosecutes them with severity, his hen-roost is sure to pay for it: they generally straggle into these parts about this time of the year; and set the heads of our servant-maids so agog for husbands, that we do not expect to have any business done as it should be whilst they are in the country. I have an honest dairy-maidwho crosses their hands with a piece of silver every summer, and never fails being promised the handsomest young fellow in the parish for her pains. Your friend the butler has been fool enough to be seduced by them; and though he is sure to lose a knife, a fork, or a spoon every time his fortune is told him, generally shuts himself up in the pantry with an old gipsy for above half an hour once in a twelvemonth. Sweethearts are the things they live upon, which they bestow very plentifully upon all those that apply themselves to them. You see now and then some handsome young jades among them: the sluts have very often white teeth and black eyes.”
Man holding horse talks to old woman with children
Sir Roger observing that I listened with great attention to his account of a people who were so entirely new to me, told me, that if I would they should tell us our fortunes. As I was very well pleased with the Knight’s proposal, we rid up and communicated our hands to them. A Cassandra140of the crew, after having examined my lines very diligently, told me, that I loved a pretty maid in a corner141, that I was a good woman’s man, with some other particulars which I do not think proper to relate. My friend Sir Roger alighted from his horse, and exposing his palm to two or three that stood by him, they crumpled it into all shapes, and diligently scanned every wrinkle that could be made in it;when one of them, who was older and more sunburnt than the rest, told him, that he had a widow in his line of life: upon which the Knight cried, “Go, go, you are an idle baggage”; and at the same time smiled upon me. The gipsy finding he was not displeased in his heart, told him, after a further inquiryinto his hand, that his true-love was constant, and that she should dream of him to-night: my old friend cried “pish,” and bid her go on. The gipsy told him that he was a bachelor, but would not be so long; and that he was dearer to somebody than he thought: the Knight still repeated she was an idle baggage, and bid her go on. “Ah, master,” says the gipsy, “that roguish leer of yours makes a pretty woman’s heart ache; you ha’n’t that simper about the mouth for nothing—” The uncouth gibberish with which all this was uttered, like the darkness of an oracle, made us the more attentive to it. To be short, the Knight left the money with her that he had crossed her hand with, and got up again on his horse.
As we were riding away, Sir Roger told me, that he knew several sensible people who believed these gipsies now and then foretold very strange things; and for half an hour together appeared more jocund than ordinary. In the height of his good-humour, meeting a common beggar upon the road who was no conjurer, as he went to relieve him he found his pocket was picked; that being a kind of palmistry at which this race of vermin are very dexterous.
I might here entertain my reader with historical remarks on this idle profligate people, who infest all the countries of Europe, and live in the midst of governments in a kind of commonwealth by themselves. But instead of entering into observations of this nature, I shall fill the remaining part of my paper with a story which is still fresh in Holland,and was printed in one of our monthly accounts about twenty years ago. “As thetrekschuyt, or hackney-boat, which carries passengers from Leyden to Amsterdam, was putting off, a boy running along the side of the canal desired to be taken in; which the master of the boat refused, because the lad had not quite money enough to pay the usual fare. An eminent merchant being pleased with the looks of the boy, and secretly touched with compassion towards him, paid the money for him, and ordered him to be taken on board. Upon talking with him afterwards, he found that he could speak readily in three or four languages, and learned upon further examination that he had been stolen away when he was a child by a gipsy, and had rambled ever since with a gang of those strollers142up and down several parts of Europe. It happened that the merchant, whose heart seems to have inclined towards the boy by a secret kind of instinct, had himself lost a child some years before. The parents, after a long search for him, gave him for drowned in one of the canals with which that country abounds; and the mother was so afflicted at the loss of a fine boy, who was her only son, that she died for grief of it. Upon laying together all particulars, and examining the several moles and marks by which the mother used to describe the child when he was first missing, the boy proved to be the son of the merchant whose heart had so unaccountably melted at the sight of him. The lad was very well pleased to find a father who was sorich, and likely to leave him a good estate; the father on the other hand was not a little delighted to see a son return to him, whom he had given for lost, with such a strength of constitution, sharpness of understanding, and skill in languages.” Here the printed story leaves off; but if I may give credit to reports, our linguist having received such extraordinary rudiments towards a good education, was afterwards trained up in everything that becomes a gentleman; wearing off by little and little all the vicious habits and practices that he had been used to in the course of his peregrinations: nay, it is said, that he has since been employed in foreign courts upon national business, with great reputation to himself and honour to those who sent him, and that he has visited several countries as a public minister, in which he formerly wandered as a gipsy.
C.
139Exert.Exert the power of.140Cassandra.Reference to the mad prophetess of that name in the story of Troy.141In a corner.In secret.142Strollers.Vagabonds.
139Exert.Exert the power of.
139Exert.Exert the power of.
140Cassandra.Reference to the mad prophetess of that name in the story of Troy.
140Cassandra.Reference to the mad prophetess of that name in the story of Troy.
141In a corner.In secret.
141In a corner.In secret.
142Strollers.Vagabonds.
142Strollers.Vagabonds.
Ipsae rursum concedite sylvae.Virg.Ecl.x. ver. 63.Once more, ye woods, adieu.
Ipsae rursum concedite sylvae.Virg.Ecl.x. ver. 63.Once more, ye woods, adieu.
Ipsae rursum concedite sylvae.Virg.Ecl.x. ver. 63.
Once more, ye woods, adieu.
It is usual for a man who loves country sports to preserve the game on his own grounds, and divert himself upon those that belong to his neighbour. My friend Sir Roger generally goes two or three miles from his house, and gets into the frontiers of his estate, before he beats about in search of ahare or partridge, on purpose to spare his own fields, where he is always sure of finding diversion, when the worst comes to the worst. By this means the breed about his house has time to increase and multiply, beside that the sport is the more agreeable where the game is the harder to come at, and where it does not lie so thick as to produce any perplexity or confusion in the pursuit. For these reasons the country gentleman, like the fox, seldom preys near his own home.
In the same manner I have made a month’s excursion out of the town, which is the great field of game for sportsmen of my species, to try my fortune in the country, where I have started several subjects, and hunted them down, with some pleasure to myself, and I hope to others. I am here forced to use a great deal of diligence before I can spring143anything to my mind, whereas in town, whilst I am following one character, it is ten to one but I am crossed in my way by another, and put up such a variety of odd creatures in both sexes, that they foil the scent of one another, and puzzle the chase. My greatest difficulty in the country is to find sport, and in town to choose it. In the meantime, as I have given a whole month’s rest to the cities of London and Westminster, I promise myself abundance of new game upon my return thither.
It is indeed high time for me to leave the country, since I find the whole neighbourhood begin to grow very inquisitive after my name and character: mylove of solitude, taciturnity, and particular144way of life, having raised a great curiosity in all these parts.
The notions which have been framed of me are various: some look upon me as very proud, some as very modest, and some as very melancholy. Will Wimble, as my friend the butler tells me, observing me very much alone, and extremely silent when I am in company, is afraid I have killed a man. The country people seem to suspect me for a conjurer; and some of them, hearing of the visit which I made to Moll White, will needs have it that Sir Roger has brought down a cunning man with him, to cure the old woman, and free the country from her charms. So that the character which I go under in part of the neighbourhood, is what they here call a “white witch145.”
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 harbour a Jesuit in his house, and that he thinks the gentlemen of the country would do very 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 promiscuously146when he is in town, do not know but he has brought down with himsome discarded147Whig, 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 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 hollow, and make a noise. It is true my friend Sir 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 discovers148, 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 neighbourhood149. A man that is out of humour when an unexpected guest breaks in upon him, and does not care for sacrificing an afternoon to every chance-comer; that will be the master of his own time, and 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 speculations I please upon others, without being observed myself, and at the same time enjoy all the advantages of company with all the privilegesof solitude. In the meanwhile, 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.