ys me under the necessity
of divulging this degeneracy in the sentiment of our imperious youth,
who was now in the heyday of his blood, flushed with the consciousness
of his own qualifications, vain of his fortune, and elated on the
wings of imaginary expectation. Though he was deeply enamoured of Miss
Gauntlet, he was far from proposing her heart as the ultimate aim of
his gallantry, which, he did not doubt, would triumph over the most
illustrious females of the land, and at once regale his appetite and
ambition.

Meanwhile, being willing to make his appearance at the garrison equally
surprising and agreeable, he cautioned Mr. Jolter against writing to the
commodore, who had not heard of them since their departure from Paris,
and hired a post-chaise and horses, for London. The governor, going out
to give orders about the carriage, inadvertently left a paper book open
upon the table; and his pupil, casting his eyes upon the page, chanced
to read these words: "Sept. 15. Arrived in safety, by the blessing of
God, in this unhappy kingdom of England. And thus concludes the journal
of my last peregrination." Peregrine's curiosity being inflamed by this
extraordinary conclusion he turned to the beginning, and perused several
sheets of a diary such as is commonly kept by that class of people known
by the denomination of travelling governors, for the satisfaction of
themselves and the parents or guardians of their pupils, and for the
edification and entertainment of their friends.

That the reader may have a clear idea of Mr. Jolter's performance, we
shall transcribe the transactions of one day, as he had recorded them;
and that abstract will be a sufficient specimen of the whole plan and
execution of the work.

"May 3. At eight o'clock, set out from Boulogne in a post-chaise: the
morning hazy and cold. Fortified my stomach with a cordial. Recommended
ditto to Mr. P. as an antidote against the fog. Mem. He refused it.
The hither horse greased in the off-pastern of the hind leg. Arrived
at Samers. Mem. This last was a post and a half, i.e. three leagues, or
nine English miles. The day clears up. A fine champaign country, well
stored with corn. The postillion says his prayers in passing by a wooden
crucifix upon the road. Mem. The horses staled in a small brook that
runs in a bottom, betwixt two hills. Arrived at Cormont. A common post.
A dispute with my pupil, who is obstinate, and swayed by an unlucky
prejudice. Proceed to M