"Mr. Punch," said Sir Roger de Coverley earnestly, "my only wish is that Merry England, in going in for the New Politics may not lose the old humanities and humours and heartinesses."
"As described, Sir Roger, in your own words, of which your presence and the festive season, remind me:
'I have often thought that it happens very well that Christmas should fall out in the middle of winter. It is the most dead, uncomfortable time of the year, when the poor people would suffer very much from their poverty and cold, if they had not good cheer, warm fires, and Christmas gambols to support them. I love to rejoice their poor hearts at this season, and to see the whole village merry in my great hall. I allow a double quantity of malt to my small beer, and set it a-running for twelve days to everyone that calls for it.'"
(The Spectator, No. 131, Tuesday, July 31, 1711.)
"Trust me, gentlemen," continued Mr. Punch, "all that was really good—like this—in the Good Old Times you know can be preserved in the Better New Times we hope for. There will be plenty of work for the Sir Rogers, the Dr. Syntaxes, for your humane Vicar, Doctor, and your Squire Hearty and Squire Bounty, in the New Village as in the old one. We love the old country customs, but our country dance cannot for ever be to the same old tune—even the loved and time-honoured one of 'Sir Roger de Coverley'!"
"Sir," said the good old Knight, gladly, "you are doubtless right—as you always are—and I shall return to the Shades greatly solaced both by your good cheer and your good counsel!"
"Sorry to lose your company so soon!" cried the Fleet Street Amphitryon. "I perceive, Dr. Syntax, that your old grey mare, Grizzle, awaits you at the door. 'Vale! O Vale!' You ride pillion-wise, Sir Roger, I suppose. Well, to cheer your journey, brighten the Shades, and reassure ye both as to the safety of the New Village under the guidance of the Old Counseller, take with ye my
One Hundred and Seventh Volume!!"
