We had not gone far, when Sir Roger popping out his head, called the coachman down from his box, and upon his presenting himself at 85 the window, asked him if he smoked. As I was considering what this would end in, he bid him stop by the way at any good tobacconist's, and take in a roll of their best Virginia. 90 Nothing material happen'd in the remaining part of our journey, till we were set down at the west end of the Abbey.

As we went up the body of the 95 church, the knight pointed at the trophies upon one of the new monuments, and cried out, 'A brave man, I warrant him!' Passing afterwards by Sir Cloudesley Shovell, he flung 100 his hand that way, and cried, 'Sir Cloudesley Shovell! a very gallant man!' As we stood before Busby's tomb, the knight utter'd himself again after the same manner, 'Dr. Busby, 105 a great man! he whipp'd my grandfather; a very great man! I should have gone to him myself, if I had not been a blockhead; a very great man!'

We were immediately conducted 110 into the little chapel on the right hand. Sir Roger, planting himself at our historian's elbow, was very attentive to everything he said, particularly to the account he gave us 115 of the lord who had cut off the King of Morocco's head. Among several other figures, he was very well pleased to see the statesman Cecil upon his knees; and, concluding 120 them all to be great men, was conducted to the figure which represents that martyr to good housewifery who died by the prick of a needle. Upon our interpreter's telling us that she 125 was a maid of honour to Queen Elizabeth, the knight was very inquisitive into her name and family; and, after having regarded her finger for some time, I wonder,' says he,

'that Sir Richard Baker has said 180 nothing of her in his chronicle.'

We were then convey'd to the two coronation chairs, where my old friend, after having heard that the stone underneath, the most ancient 135 of them, which was brought from Scotland, was called Jacob's Pillow, sat himself down in the chair; and, looking like the figure of an old Gothic king, asked our interpreter 140 what authority they had to say that Jacob had ever been in Scotland? The fellow, instead of returning him an answer, told him that he hoped. his honour would pay his forfeit. I 145 could observe Sir Roger a little ruffled upon being thus trepanned; but our guide not insisting upon his demand, the knight soon recovered his good humour, and whispered in 150 my ear that, if Will Wimble were with us, and saw those two chairs, it would go hard but he would get a tobacco-stopper out of one or t'other of them.

155

Sir Roger, in the next place, laid his hand upon Edward the Third's sword, and leaning upon the pommel of it, gave us the whole history of the Black Prince; concluding that 160 in Sir Richard Baker's opinion Edward the Third was one of the greatest princes that ever sat upon the English throne.

We were then shewn Edward the 165 Confessor's tomb; upon which Sir Roger acquainted us that he was the first who touched for the evil; and afterwards Henry the Fourth's, upon which he shook his head, and 170 told us there was fine reading in the casualties of that reign.

Our conductor then pointed to that monument where there is the figure of one of our English kings 175without an head; and upon giving us to know that the head, which was of beaten silver, had been stolen away

several years since, 'Some Whig, I'll 180 warrant you,' says Sir Roger; 'you ought to lock up your kings better; they will carry off the body too, if you don't take care.'

The glorious names of Henry the 185 Fifth and Queen Elizabeth gave the knight great opportunities of shining, and of doing justice to Sir Richard Baker, who, as our knight observed with some surprise, had a great 190 many kings in him, whose monuments he had not seen in the Abbey. For my own part, I could not but be pleased to see the knight shew

such an honest passion for the glory of his country, and such a respectful 195 gratitude to the memory of its princes.

I must not omit that the benevolence of my good old friend, which flows out towards every one he converses with, made him very kind to 200 our interpreter, whom he looked upon as an extraordinary man; for which reason he shook him by the hand at parting, telling him that he should be very glad to see him at his lod- 205 gings in Norfolk Buildings, and talk over these matters with him more at leisure.

There is nothing, says Plato, so delightful, as the hearing or the speaking of Truth. For this reason there is no conversation so agreeable as 5 that of the man of integrity, who hears without any intention to betray, and speaks without any intention to deceive.

Among all the accounts which are 10 given of Cato, I do not remember one that more redounds to his honour than the following passage related by Plutarch. As an advocate was pleading the cause of his client be15 fore one of the prætors, he could only produce a single witness in a point where the law required the testimony of two persons; upon which the advocate insisted on the integrity 20 of that person whom he had produced: but the prætor told him that, where the law required two witnesses, he would not accept of one, tho' it were Cato himself. Such a speech from 25 a person who sat at the head of a court of justice, while Cato was still living, shews us, more than a thousand examples, the high reputation

When such an inflexible integrity is a little softened and qualified by the rules of conversation and goodbreeding, there is not a more shin- 35 ing virtue in the whole catalogue of social duties. A man, however, ought to take great care not to polish himself out of his veracity, nor to refine his behaviour to the prejudice of his 40 virtue.

This subject is exquisitely treated in the most elegant sermon of the great British preacher. I shall beg leave to transcribe out of it two or 45 three sentences, as a proper introduction to a very curious letter, which I shall make the chief entertainment of this speculation.

"The old English plainness and 50 sincerity, that generous integrity to nature, and honesty of disposition, which always argues true greatness of mind, and is usually accompanied with undaunted courage and resolution, is 55 in a great measure lost among us.

"The dialect of conversation is now-a-days so swelled with vanity and compliment, and so surfeited, as 60 I may say, of expressions of kindness and respect, that, if a man that lived an age or two ago should return into the world again, he would really want a dictionary to help him to 65 understand his own language, and to know the true intrinsic value of the phrase in fashion; and would hardly, at first, believe at what a low rate the highest strains and ex70 pressions of kindness imaginable do commonly pass in current payment; and when he should come to understand it, it would be a great while before he could bring himself with 75 a good countenance and a good conscience to converse with men upon equal terms and in their own way.'

I have by me a letter which I look upon as a great curiosity, and which 80 may serve as an exemplification to the foregoing passage, cited out of this most excellent prelate. It is said to have been written in King Charles II.'s reign by the ambassador of Bantam, 85 a little after his arrival in England.

Master,

The people, where I now am, have tongues further from their hearts than from London to Bantam, and 90 thou knowest the inhabitants of one of these places do not know what is done in the other. They call thee and thy subjects barbarians, because we speak what we mean, and account 95 themselves a civilized people, because they speak one thing and mean another: truth they call barbarity, and falsehood politeness. Upon my first landing, one who was sent from 100 the king of this place to meet me, told me that he was extremely sorry for the storm I had met with just before my arrival.' I was troubled to hear him grieve and afflict him

self upon my account; but in less 105 than a quarter of an hour he smiled, and was as merry as if nothing had happened. Another who came with him told me by my interpreter, 'he should be glad to do me any service 110 that lay in his power.' Upon which I desir'd him to carry one of my portmanteaus for me; but, instead of serving me according to his promise, he laughed, and bid another do it. 115 I lodged the first week at the house of one who desired me to think myself at home, and to consider his house as my own.' Accordingly, I the next morning began to knock 120 down one of the walls of it, in order to let in the fresh air, and had packed up some of the household goods, of which I intended to have made thee a present; but the false varlet no 125 sooner saw me falling to work, but he sent word to desire me to give over, for that he would have no such doings in his house. ...

At my first going to court, one 130 of the great men almost put me out of countenance by asking 'ten thousand pardons' of me for only treading by accident upon my toe. They call this kind of lie a compliment; 135 for, when they are civil to a great man, they tell him untruths, for which thou wouldst order any of thy officers of state to receive a hundred blows upon his foot. I do not know 140 how I shall negotiate anything with this people, since there is so little credit to be given to them. When I go to see the king's scribe, I am generally told that he is not at home, 145 tho' perhaps I saw him go into his house almost the very moment before. Thou wouldst fancy that the whole nation are physicians, for the first question they always ask me, is, 150 'how I do.' I have this question put to me above a hundred times a day. Nay, they are not only thus inquisi