ilt, than
according to the present fashion.

The Doctor, as might be expected, makes a mighty rout--a prodigious
fuss--all through the Oracle, about damp sheets; he must immediately see
the chambermaid, and overlook the airing with his own hands and eyes.
He is also an advocate of the warming-pan--and for the adoption, indeed,
of every imaginable scheme for excluding death from his chamber. He goes
on the basis of everything being as it should not be in inns--and often
reminds us of our old friend Death-in-the-Pot. Nay, as Travellers never
can be sure that those who have slept in the beds before them were not
afflicted with some contagious disease, whenever they can they should
carry their own sheets with them--namely, a "light eider-down quilt, and
two dressed hart-skins, to be put on the mattresses, to hinder the
disagreeable contact. These are to be covered with the traveller's own
sheets--and if an eider-down quilt be not sufficient to keep him warm,
his coat put upon it will increase the heat sufficiently. If the
traveller is not provided with these accommodations, it will sometimes
be prudent not to undress entirely; however, the neckcloth, gaiters,
shirt, and everything which checks the circulation, must be loosened."

Clean sheets, the Doctor thinks, are rare in inns; and he believes that
it is the practice to "take them from the bed, sprinkle them with water,
fold them down, and put them into a press. When they are wanted again,
they are, literally speaking, shown to the fire, and, in a reeking
state, laid on the bed. The traveller is tired and sleepy, dreams of
that pleasure or business which brought him from home, and the remotest
thing from his mind is, that from the very repose which he fancies has
refreshed him, he has received the rheumatism. The receipt, therefore,
to sleep comfortably at inns, is to take your own sheets, to have plenty
of flannel gowns, and to promise, and take care to pay, a handsome
consideration for the liberty of choosing your bed."

Now, Doctor, suppose all travellers behaved at inns on such principles,
what a perpetual commotion there would be in the house! The kitchens,
back-kitchens, laundries, drying-rooms, would at all times be crammed
choke-full of a miscellaneous rabble of Editors, Authors, Lords,
Baronets, Squires, Doctors of Divinity, Fellows of Colleges, Half-pay
Officers, and Bagmen, oppressing the chambermaids to death, and in the
headlong gratification of their passi