"Poh! d-n the flut," anfwered the Squire, I am lamenting the lofs of fo fine a morning for hunting. It is confounded hard to lofe one of the best scenting days, in all appearance, which has been this feafon, and especially after fo long a froft."

Whether fortune, who now and then shows some compaffion in her wantoneft tricks, might not take pity of the Squire; and as she had determined not to let him overtake his daughter, might not refolve to make him amends fome other way, I will not affert; but he had hardly uttered the words just before commemorated, and two or three oaths at their heels, when a pack of hounds began to open their melodious throats at a fmall distance from them, which the Squire's horfe and his rider both perceiving, both immediately pricked up their ears, and the Squire crying, "She's gone, fhe's „ gone! Damn me, if she is not gone!" instantly clapped fpurs to the beaft, who little needed it, having indeed the fame inclination with his Master. And now the whole company croffing into a cornfield, rode directly towards the hounds, with much hallowing and hooping, while the poor Parson, bleffing himself, brought up the rear.

Thus fable reports, that the fair Grimalkin, whom Venus, at the defire of a paffionate lover, converted from a cat into a fine woman, no fooner perceived a moufe, than, mindful of her former fport, and ftill retaining her pristine nature, fhe

leapt from the bed of her husband to pursue the little animal.

What are we to understand by this? Not that the bride was displeased with the embraces of her amorous bridegroom: for though fome have remarked that cats are fubject to ingratitude; yet women and cats too will be pleafed and purr on certain occafions. The truth is, as the fagacious Sir Roger L'Estrange observes, in his deep reflections, that if we fhut nature out at the door, fhe will come in at the window; and that pufs, though a Madam, will be a moufer ftill." In the fame manner, we are not to arraign the Squire of any want of love for his daughter, for in reality he had a great deal: we are only to confider that he was a Squire and a fportfman, and then we may apply the fable to him, and the judicious reflections likewise.

The hounds ran very hard, as it is called, and the Squire purfued over hedge and ditch, with all his ufual vociferation and alacrity, and with all his ufual pleasure; nor did the thoughts of Sophia ever once intrude themselves to allay the fatisfaction he enjoyed in the chace, which he faid, was one of the finest he ever faw, and which he fwore was very well worth going fifty miles for. As the Squire forgot his daughter, the fervants, we may easily believe, forgot their Miftrefs; and the Parson, after having expreffed much astonishment in Latin to himself, at length likewise

abandoned all farther thoughts of the young Lady, and jogging on at a distance behind, began to meditate a portion of doctrine for the enfuing Sunday.

The Squire who owned the hounds, was highly pleased with the arrival of his brother Squire and fportman; for all men approve merit in their own way, and no man was more expert in the field than Mr. Western, nor did any other better know how to encourage the dogs with his voice, and to animate the hunt with his holla.

if

Sportsmen, in the warmth of a chace, are too much engaged to attend to any manner of ceremony; nay, even to the offices of humanity: for any of them meet with an accident by tumbling into a ditch, or into a river, the reft pafs on regardless, and generally leave him to his fate; during this time, therefore, the two Squires, though often close to each other, interchanged not a fingle word. The Mafter of the hunt, however, often faw and approved the great judgment of the ftranger in drawing the dogs when they were at a fault, and hence conceived a very high opinion of his understanding, as the number of his attendants infpired no fmall reverence to his quality. As foon therefore as the fport was ended, by the death of the little animal which had occafioned it, the two Squires met, and in all Squire-like greeting, faluted each other.

The converfation was entertaining enough,

and what we may perhaps relate in an appendix, or on fome other occafion; but as it no wife concerns this History, we cannot prevail on ourselves to give it a place here. It concluded with a fecond chace, and that with an invitation to dinner. This being accepted, was followed by a hearty bout of drinking, which ended in as hearty a nap on the part of Squire Western.

Our Squire was by no means a match, either for his hoft or for Parfon Supple, at his cups that evening; for which the violent fatigue of mind as well as body that he had undergone, may very well account, without the leaft derogation from his honor. He was indeed, according to the vulgar phrase, whistle-drunk; for before he had fwallowed the third bottle, he became fo entirely overpowered, that, tho' he was not carried off to bed till long after, the Parfon confidered him as abfent; and having acquainted the other Squire with all relating to Sophia, he obtained his promife of feconding those arguments which he intended to urge the next morning for Mr. Western's return.

No fooner therefore had the good Squire fhaken off his evening, and began to call for his morning draught, and to fummon his horfes in order to renew his purfuit, than Mr. Supple began his diffuafives, which the hoft fo ftrongly feconded, that they at length prevailed, and Mr. Weftern agreed to return home; being principally moved by one argument, viz. That he knew not which

way to go, and might probably be riding farther from his daughter, instead of towards her. He then took leave of his brother sportsman, and expreffing great joy that the froft was broken (which might perhaps be no fmall motive to his haftening home) fet forwards, or rather backwards, for Somersetshire; but not before he had firft difpatched part of his retinue in queft of his daughter, after whom he likewife fent a volley of the most bitter execrations which he could invent.

CHA P. II I.

The Departure of Jones from Upton, with what paffed between him and Partridge on the Road.

Ат

T length, we are once more come to our Hero; and, to say truth, we have been obliged to part with him fo long, that, confidering the condition in which we left him, I apprehend many of our Readers have concluded we intended to abandon him for ever; he being at prefent in that fituation in which prudent people usually defift from inquiring any farther after their friends, left they should be fhocked by hearing fuch friends had hanged themselves.

But, in reality, if we have not all the virtues, I will boldly fay, neither have we all the vices of a prudent character; and, though it is not easy to conceive circumftances much more miferable

than