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 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_, the
great Fortune, and the Widow her Mother, a recruiting 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
from 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.
The 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 look sharp,
that none but one of the Ladies should have the Place he had taken
fronting to 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 Sight. The Coach jumbled us insensibly into some sort
of Familiarity; and we had not moved about 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, "That indeed he
had but very little Luck, and 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 your self, 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 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 Bride-man, and" (giving the Quaker a Clap on the
Knee) he concluded, "This sly Saint, who, I'll warrant 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 must
hear thee: But if thou wert a Man of Understanding, thou wouldst not
take Advantage of thy couragious Countenance to abash us Children of
Peace. Thou art, thou sayest, a Soldier; give Quarter to us, who
cannot resist thee. Why didst thou fleer at our Friend, who feigned
himself asleep? he said nothing, but how dost thou know what he
containeth? If thou speakest improper things in the Hearing of this
virtuous young Virgin, consider it as an Outrage against a distressed
Person that cannot get from thee: To speak indiscreetly what we are
obliged to 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 convicted and support it self at the same
time) crys, "Faith, Friend, I thank thee; I should have been a little
impertinent if thou hadst not reprimanded me. Come, thou art, I see, a
smoaky old Fellow, and I'll be very orderly the ensuing Part of the
Journey. I was going to give myself 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 Accommodation, 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
delightful 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 unsuitable Companions
to him: Such a Man when he falleth in the Way with Persons of
Simplicity and 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 rejoice to see my peaceable Demeanour, and I should be glad
to see thy Strength and Ability to protect me in it."
_Steele._