As I was sitting in my chamber and thinking on a subject
for my next _Spectator_, I heard two or three irregular
bounces at my landlady's door, and upon the opening of
it, a loud, cheerful voice inquiring whether the philosopher
was at home. The child who went to the door (205: 5)
answered very innocently that he did not lodge there. I
immediately recollected that it was my good friend Sir
Roger's voice, and that I had promised to go with him
on the water to Spring Garden, in case it proved a good
evening. The knight put me in mind of my promise (10)
from the bottom of the staircase, but told me that if I
was speculating he would stay below till I had done.
Upon my coming down, I found all the children of the
family got about my old friend, and my landlady herself
who is a notable prating gossip, engaged in a conference (15)
with him, being mightily pleased with his stroking her
little boy upon the head, and bidding him be a good
child and mind his book.
We were no sooner come to the Temple Stairs but we
were surrounded with a crowd of watermen, offering us (20)
their respective services. Sir Roger, after having looked
about him very attentively, spied one with a wooden leg,
and immediately gave him orders to get his boat ready.
As we were walking towards it, "You must know," says
Sir Roger, "I never make use of anybody to row me that (206: 5)
has not either lost a leg or an arm. I would rather bate
him a few strokes of his oar than not employ an honest
man that had been wounded in the Queen's service. If
I was a lord or a bishop, and kept a barge, I would not
put a fellow in my livery that had not a wooden leg." (10)
My old friend, after having seated himself and trimmed
the boat with his coachman,--who, being a very sober
man, always serves for ballast on these occasions,--we
made the best of our way for Fox-hall. Sir Roger obliged
the waterman to give us the history of his right leg, and (15)
hearing that he had left it at La Hogue, with many particulars
which passed in that glorious action, the knight,
in the triumph of his heart, made several reflections on
the greatness of the British nation; as, that one Englishman
could beat three Frenchmen; that we could never (20)
be in danger of popery so long as we took care of our
fleet; that the Thames was the noblest river in Europe;
that London Bridge was a greater piece of work than any
of the seven wonders of the world; with many other
honest prejudices which naturally cleave to the heart of a (25)
true Englishman.
After some short pause, the old knight, turning about
his head twice or thrice to take a survey of this great
metropolis, bid me observe how thick the city was set
with churches, and that there was scarce a single steeple
on this side Temple Bar. "A most heathenish sight!"
says Sir Roger; "there is no religion at this end of the
town. The fifty new churches will very much mend the
prospect; but church work is slow, church work is (207: 5)
slow!"
I do not remember I have anywhere mentioned, in Sir
Roger's character, his custom of saluting everybody that
passes by him with a good-morrow or a good-night. This
the old man does out of the overflowings of his humanity, (10)
though at the same time it renders him so popular among
all his country neighbours that it is thought to have gone
a good way in making him once or twice knight of the
shire.
He cannot forbear this exercise of benevolence even in (15)
town, when he meets with any one in his morning or evening
walk. It broke from him to several boats that passed
by us upon the water; but to the knight's great surprise,
as he gave the good-night to two or three young fellows a
little before our landing, one of them, instead of returning (20)
the civility, asked us what queer old put we had in
the boat, ... with a great deal of the like Thames
ribaldry. Sir Roger seemed a little shocked at first, but
at length, assuming a face of magistracy, told us that if
he were a Middlesex justice he would make such vagrants (25)
know that her Majesty's subjects were no more to be
abused by water than by land.
We were now arrived at Spring Garden, which is exquisitely
pleasant at this time of year. When I considered
the fragrancy of the walks and bowers, with the choirs
of birds that sung upon the trees, and the loose tribe of
people that walked under their shades, I could not but
look upon the place as a kind of Mahometan paradise.
Sir Roger told me it put him in mind of a little coppice (208: 5)
by his house in the country, which his chaplain used to call
an aviary of nightingales. "You must understand," says
the knight, "there is nothing in the world that pleases a
man in love so much as your nightingale. Ah, Mr. Spectator!
the many moonlight nights that I have walked by (10)
myself and thought on the widow by the music of the
nightingales!" He here fetched a deep sigh, and was
falling into a fit of musing, when a mask,[153] who came
behind him, gave him a gentle tap upon the shoulder, and
asked him if he would drink a bottle of mead with her. (15)
But the knight, being startled at so unexpected a familiarity,
and displeased to be interrupted in his thoughts of the
widow, told her she was a wanton baggage, and bid her
go about her business.
[153] _I.e_. a woman wearing a mask.
We concluded our walk with a glass of Burton ale and (20)
a slice of hung beef. When we had done eating, ourselves,
the knight called a waiter to him and bid him carry
the remainder to the waterman that had but one leg. I
perceived the fellow stared upon him at the oddness of
the message, and was going to be saucy; upon which I (25)
ratified the knight's commands with a peremptory look.
As we were going out of the garden, my old friend,
thinking himself obliged as a member of the quorum to
animadvert upon the morals of the place, told the mistress
of the house, who sat at the bar, that he should be a better
customer to her garden if there were more nightingales
and fewer strumpets. I.