vowing revenge against those who had reduced him to it.
The cart set off one way, and the crowd another, shouting in triumph as they bore away their trophies, and swearing to exhibit them upon a pile of faggots as soon as it should be dark.
Whether they did so or not will be known hereafter; but not in the next chapter, that being appropriated for another subject. Besides, the reader may wish to be released for a time from the brutes of Little Hockley. Nay it is not impossible but he may, in some small degree, revolt at these latter circumstances. What a shocking indignity to make so amiable a man drunk, let him swear, and afterwards introduce him as a scarecrow!
To these objections—for I own I am myself shocked at the facts—I must beg to plead that I am only the historian of these transactions; but, if I were the inventor, I really think that they are the very cunning of the scene; for the more attrocious

the Hockley men appear, the more lustre will be thrown round the worthies of Castlewick.
As for the swearing, I own I had some idea of smothering it, but I will prove beyond contradiction that it is natural even in the excellent Mr. Mildman.
The reader cannot wish for a more truly moral character to illustrate the position than Doctor JOHNSON. This great man, we are told by Mr. BOSWEL, while on his tour once made use of the words
"what the devil:"
—I forget whether it was on that evening the young lady sat upon his knee, for then there would have been no great improbability in his feeling the gentleman he mentioned a little busy:—but he hastily recalled himself, and corrected his expression.

Now
"what the devil,"
from Dr. JOHNSON, perfectly sober, I insist upon it, is about upon a par with
"damn the dog"
from Mr. Mildman, drunk; for drunkenness has the same effect upon the spirits, whether we fall into it by accident or design. Nay drugs and charms may very likely create a stronger delirium, and I have no manner of doubt but that if Dr. JOHNSON could that evening have been prevailed upon to drink fermented liquor,

it is within bare possibility—for I contend for no more—that he might have whispered to his friend BOSWELL that the lady was a damned fine girl, or some such buckishness.



STANDFAST, as soon as he understood what had been done with the vicar, appeared well enough satisfied, though he did not fail to declare that the matter had been carried a great deal too far. However