THOUGH the child could not describe the gentleman's person who handed his sister into the post-chaise, yet my suspicions
fell entirely upon our young landlord, whose character for such intrigues was but too well known. I therefore directed my steps
towards Thornhill Castle, resolving to upbraid him, and, if possible, to bring back my daughter; but before I had reached his
seat, I was met by one of my parishioners, who said he saw a young lady resembling my daughter in a postchaise with a
gentleman, whom, by the description, I could only guess to be Mr. Burchell, and that they drove very fast. This information,
however, did by no means satisfy me. I therefore went to the young 'Squire's, and though it was yet early, insisted upon seeing
him immediately; he soon appeared with the most open, familiar air, and seemed perfectly amazed at my daughter's elopement,
protesting upon his honor that he was quite a stranger to it. I now therefore condemned

my former suspicions, and could turn them only on Mr. Burchell, who I recollected had of late several private conferences with
her; but the appearance of another witness left me no room to doubt his villainy, who averred that he and my daughter had
actually gone towards the Wells, about thirty miles off, where there was a great deal of company.

   Being driven to that state of mind in which we are more ready to act precipitately than to reason right, I never debated with
myself whether these accounts might not have been given by persons purposely placed in my way to mislead me, but resolved
to pursue my daughter and her fancied deluder thither. I walked along with earnestness, and inquired of several by the way; but
received no accounts, till entering the town, I was met by a person on horseback, whom I remembered to have seen at the
'Squire's, and he assured me that if I followed them to the races, which were but thirty miles farther, I might depend upon
overtaking them; for he had seen them dance there the night before, and the whole assembly seemed charmed with my
daughter's performance. Early the next day I walked forward to the races, and about four in the afternoon I came upon the
course. The company made a very brilliant appearance, all earnestly employed in one pursuit, that of pleasure; how different
from mine, that of reclaiming a lost child to virtue! I thought I perceived Mr. Burchell at some distance from me; but, as

if he dreaded an interview, upon my approaching him he mixed among a crowd, and I saw him no more.

   I now reflected that it would be to no purpose to continue my pursuit farther, and resolved to return home to an innocent
family, who wanted my assistance. But the agitations of my mind, and the fatigues I had undergone, threw me into a fever, the
symptoms of which I perceived before I came off the course. This was another unexpected stroke, as I was more than seventy
miles distant from home: however, I retired to a little ale-house by the roadside, and in this place, the usual retreat of indigence
and frugality, I laid me down patiently to wait the issue of my disorder. I languished here for nearly three weeks; but at last my
constitution prevailed, though I was unprovided with money to defray the expenses of my entertainment. It is possible the
anxiety from this last circumstance alone might have brought on a relapse, had I not been supplied by a traveller, who stopped
to take a cursory refreshment. This person was no other than the philanthropic bookseller in St. Paul's Churchyard, who has
written so many little books for children: he called himself their friend; but he was the friend of all mankind. He was no sooner
alighted, but he was in haste to be gone; for he was ever on business of the utmost importance, and was at that time actually
compiling materials for the history of one Mr. Thomas Trip. I immediately recollected this good-natured man's red

pimpled face; for he had published for me against the Deuterogamists of the age, and from him I borrowed a few pieces, to be
paid at my return. Leaving the inn, therefore, as I was yet but weak, I resolved to return home by easy journeys of ten miles a
day.

   My health and usual tranquillity were almost restored, and I now condemned that pride which had made me refractory to the
hand of correction. Man little knows what calamities are beyond his patience to bear till he tries them; as in ascending the
heights of ambition which look bright from below, every step we rise shows us some new and gloomy prospect of hidden
disappointment; so in our descent from the summits of pleasure, though the vale of misery below may appear at first dark and
gloomy, yet the busy mind, still attentive to its own amusement, finds as we descend something to flatter and to please. Still as
we approach, the darkest objects appear to brighten, and the mental eye becomes adapted to its gloomy situation.

   I now proceeded forward, and had walked about two hours, when I perceived what appeared at a distance like a wagon,
which I was resolved to overtake; but when I came up with it found it to be a strolling company's cart, that was carrying their
scenes and other theatrical furniture to the next village, where they were to exhibit.

   The cart was attended only by the person who drove it and one of the company, as the rest of the players

were to follow the ensuing day. "Good company upon the road," says the proverb, "is the shortest cut;" I therefore entered into
conversation with the poor player; and as I once had some theatrical powers myself, I disserted on such topics with my usual
freedom; but as I was pretty much unacquainted with the present state of the stage, I demanded who were the present
theatrical writers in vogue, who the Drydens and Otways of the day. "I fancy, sir," cried the player, "few of our modern
dramatists would think themselves much honored by being compared to the writers you mention. Dryden's and Rowe's manner,
sir, are quite out of fashion: our taste has gone back a whole century; Fletcher, Ben Jonson, and all the plays of Shakespeare
are the only things that go down."-"How!" cried I, "is it possible that the present age can be pleased with that antiquated dialect,
that obsolete humor, those overcharged characters which abound in the works you mention?"-"Sir," returned my companion,
"the public think nothing about dialect, or humor, or character, for that is none of their business; they only go to be amused, and
find themselves happy when they can enjoy a pantomime under the sanction of Jonson's or Shakespeare's name.""So then, I
suppose," cried I, "that our modern dramatists are rather imitators of Shakespeare than of nature?"-"To say the truth," returned
my companion, "I don't know that they imitate any thing at all; nor indeed does the public require

it of them: it is not the composition of the piece, but the number of starts and attitudes that may be introduced into it, that elicits
applause. I have known a piece, with not one jest in the whole, shrugged into popularity, and another saved by the poet's
throwing in a fit of the gripes. No, sir, the works of Congreve and Farquhar have too much wit in them for the present taste; our
modern dialect is much more natural."

   By this time the equipage of the strolling company was arrived at the village, which, it seems, had been apprized of our
approach, and was come out to gaze at us; for my companion observed, that strollers have more spectators without doors than
within. I did not consider the impropriety of my being in such company till I saw a mob gather about me. I therefore took
shelter, as fast as possible, in the first ale-house that offered; and being shown into the common room, was accosted by a very
well-dressed gentleman, who demanded whether I was the real chaplain of the company, or whether it was only to be my
masquerade character in the play. Upon my informing him of the truth, and that I did not belong in any sort to the company, he
was condescending enough to desire me and the player to partake in a bowl of punch, over which he discussed modern politics
with great earnestness and interest. I set him down in my own mind for nothing less than a parliament-man at least: but was
almost confirmed in my conjectures, when upon

asking what there was in the house for supper, he insisted that the player and I should sup with him at his house; with which
request, after some entreaties, we were prevailed upon to comply.