The day of People of fashion began now to break，and carts and hacks were mingled with equipages of show and vanity：when I resolved to walk it out of cheapness；but my unhappy curiosity is such，that I find it always my interest to take coach，for some odd adventure among beggars，ballad—singers，or the like，detains and throws me into expense．It happened SO immediately；for at the corner of Warwick—street．as 1 was listening to a new ballad，a ragged rascal，a beggar who knew me，cameup tO me，and began to turn the eyes of the good company upon me，bytelling me he was extremely poor，and should die in the streets for wantof drink，except I immediately would have the charity to give him sixpence to go into the next ale—house and save his life．He urged，with amelancholy face，that all his family had died of thirst．All the mob havehumour，and two or three began to take the jest；by which Mr．Sturdycarried his point，and let me sneak off to a coach．As I drove along it was a pleasing Reflection to see the world SG，prettily checkered sinceI left Richmond，and the scene still filling with children of a new hour．This satisfaction increased as I moved toward the city；and gay signs，well disposed streets，magnificent public struc tures，and wealthy shops，adorned with contented faces，made the joy still rising till we came intothe centre of the city，and cen~e of the world of trade，the exchange of London．As other men in the crowds about me were pleased with their hopes and bargains，I found my account in observing them，in attentionto their several interests．I，indeed，looked upon myself as the richest man that walked the exchange that day；for my benevolence made me share the gains of every bargain that was made．It was not the least of the satisfactions in my survey，to go up stairs，and pass the shops of agreeablefemales；to observe SO many pretty hands busy in the folding of ribbons，and the utmost eagerness of agreeable faces in the sale of patches，pins，and wires，on each side the counters，was an amusement，in which I should longer have indulged myself,had not the dear creatures called to me to ask what 1 wanted，when I could not answer，only to look at you．1 went to one of the windows which opened to the area below，where all the several voices lost their distinction，and rose up in a confused humming；which created in me a reflection that could not come into the mind of any but of one a little studious；for I said tO myself,with a kind of pun in thought，What nonsense is all the Hurry of this world to those who are above it?In these，or not much wiser thoughts，I had like to have lost my place at the chop．house；where every man，according to the natural bashfulness of sullenness of our nation，eats in a public room a mess of broth，or chop of meat，in dumb silence，as if they had no pretence to speak to each other on the foot of being men，except they were of each other’S acquaintance．