at through the remissness of
constables, justices, and packed juries, he has always found the means
to escape.

JOHN BULL.--What then?

DON DIEGO.--Consider, then, who is your best friend: he that would
have brought him to condign punishment, or he that has saved him? By my
persuasion Jack had hanged himself, if Sir Roger had not cut him down.

JOHN BULL.--Who told you that Sir Roger has done so?

DON DIEGO.--You seem to receive me coldly: methinks my services deserve
a better return.

JOHN BULL.--Since you value yourself upon hanging this poor scoundrel, I
tell you, when I have any more hanging work, I'll send for thee: I have
some better employment for Sir Roger. In the meantime, I desire the poor
fellow may be looked after. When he first came out of the north country
into my family, under the pretended name of Timothy Trim, the fellow
seemed to mind his loom and his spinning-wheel, till somebody turned his
head; then he grew so pragmatical, that he took upon him the government
of my whole family: I could never order anything, within or without
doors, but he must be always giving his counsel, forsooth: nevertheless,
tell him I will forgive what is past; and if he would mind his business
for the future, and not meddle out of his own sphere, he will find that
John Bull is not of a cruel disposition.

DON DIEGO.--Yet all your skilful physicians say that nothing can recover
your mother but a piece of Jack's liver boiled in her soup.

JOHN BULL.--Those are quacks. My mother abhors such cannibals' food. She
is in perfect health at present. I would have given many a good pound
to have had her so well some time ago.* There are indeed two or three
troublesome old nurses that, because they believe I am tender-hearted,
will never let me have a quiet night's rest with knocking me up: "Oh,
sir, your mother is taken extremely ill; she is fallen into a fainting
fit; she has a great emptiness, wants sustenance." This is only to
recommend themselves for their great care. John Bull, as simple as he
is, understands a little of a pulse.

* New clamours about the danger of the Church.

CHAPTER XV. The sequel of the meeting at the "Salutation."*

* At the Congress of Utrecht.

Where I think I left John Bull, sitting between Nic. Frog and Lewis
Baboon, with his arms akimbo, in great concern to keep Lewis and Nic.
asunder. As watchful as he was, Nic. found the means now and then to
steal a whisper, and by a cleanly