e not been strengthened by the
reading of the _Edinburgh Review_. Nothing more passed at that time, for
we were disturbed by a Captain Sabre that came up with us in the smack,
calling to see how we were after our journey; and as he was a civil
well-bred young man, which I marvel at, considering he's a Hussar
dragoon, we took a coach, and went to see the lions, as he said; but,
instead of taking us to the Tower of London, as I expected, he ordered
the man to drive us round the town. In our way through the city he
showed us the Temple Bar, where Lord Kilmarnock's head was placed after
the Rebellion, and pointed out the Bank of England and Royal Exchange.
He said the steeple of the Exchange was taken down shortly ago--and that
the late improvements at the Bank were very grand. I remembered having
read in the _Edinburgh Advertiser_, some years past, that there was a
great deal said in Parliament about the state of the Exchange, and the
condition of the Bank, which I could never thoroughly understand. And,
no doubt, the taking own of an old building, and the building up of a new
one so near together, must, in such a crowded city as this, be not only a
great detriment to business, but dangerous to the community at large.

After we had driven about for more than two hours, and neither seen lions
nor any other curiosity, but only the outside of houses, we returned
home, where we found a copperplate card left by Mr. Argent, the colonel's
agent, with the name of his private dwelling-house. Both me and Mrs.
Pringle were confounded at the sight of this thing, and could not but
think that it prognosticated no good; for we had seen the gentleman
himself in the forenoon. Andrew Pringle, my son, could give no
satisfactory reason for such an extraordinary manifestation of anxiety to
see us; so that, after sitting on thorns at our dinner, I thought that we
should see to the bottom of the business. Accordingly, a hackney was
summoned to the door, and me and Andrew Pringle, my son, got into it, and
told the man to drive to second in the street where Mr. Argent lived, and
which was the number of his house. The man got up, and away we went;
but, after he had driven an awful time, and stopping and inquiring at
different places, he said there was no such house as Second's in the
street; whereupon Andrew Pringle, my son, asked him what he meant, and
the man said that he supposed it was one Second's Hotel, or Coffee-house,
that we wanted.