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 there is the wit who seizes the occasion for a burst of facetious double-meanings, chiefly designed for the discomfiture of the prude; and, lastly, there is the coachman, whose only concern is the shilling for his fare, and who refuses to lend either of the useless greatcoats he is sitting upon, lest “they should be made bloody,” leaving the shivering suppliant to be clothed by the generosity of the postilion (“a Lad,” says Fielding with a fine touch of satire, “who hath been since transported for robbing a Hen-roost”). This worthy fellow accordingly strips off his only outer garment, “at the same time swearing a great Oath,” for which he is duly rebuked by the passengers, “that he would rather ride in his Shirt all his Life, than suffer a Fellow-Creature to lie in so miserable a Condition.” Then there are the admirable scenes which succeed Joseph’s admission into the inn; the discussion between the bookseller and the two parsons as to the publication of Adams’s sermons, which the “Clergy would be certain to cry down,” because they inculcate good works against faith; the debate before the justice as to the manuscript of AEschylus, which is mistaken for one of the Fathers; and the pleasant discourse between the poet and the player which, beginning by compliments, bids fair to end in blows. Nor are the stories of Leonora and Mr. Wilson without their interest. They interrupt the straggling narrative far less than the Man of the Hill interrupts Tom Jones, and they afford an opportunity for varying the epic of the highway by pictures of polite society which could not otherwise be introduced. There can be little doubt, too, that some of Mr. Wilson’s town experiences were the reflection of the author’s own career; while the characteristics