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  At first Trim huff’d and bounced most terribly; — swore he would get a Warrant; — then nothing would serve him but he would call a Bye-Law, and tell the whole Parish how the Parson had misused him; — but cooling of that, as fearing the Parson might possibly bind him over to his good Behaviour, and, for aught he knew, might send him to the House of Correction, — he let the Parson alone; and, to revenge himself, falls foul upon his Clerk, who had no more to do in the Quarrel than you or I; — rips up the Promise of the old-cast-Pair-of-black-Plush-Breeches, and raises an Uproar in the Town about it, notwithstanding it had slept ten Years. — But all this, you must know, is look’d upon in no other Light, but as an artful Stroke of Generalship in Trim, to raise a Dust, and cover himself under the disgraceful Chastisement he has undergone.

  If your Curiosity is not yet satisfied, — I will now proceed to relate the Battle of the Breeches, in the same exact Manner I have done that of the Watch-Coat.

  Be it known then, that, about ten Years ago, when John was appointed Parish-Clerk of this Church, this said Master Trim took no small Pains to get into John’s good Graces in order, as it afterwards appeared, to coax a Promise out of him of a Pair of Breeches, which John had then by him, of black Plush, not much the worse for wearing; — Trim only begging for God’s Sake to have them bestowed upon him when John should think fit to cast them.

  Trim was one of those kind of Men who loved a Bit of Finery in his Heart, and would rather have a tatter’d Rag of a Better Body’s, than the best plain whole Thing his Wife could spin him.

  John, who was naturally unsuspicious, made no more Difficulty of promising the Breeches, than the Parson had done in promising the Great Coat; and, indeed, with something less Reserve, — because the Breeches were John’s own, and he could give them, without Wrong, to whom he thought fit.

  It happened, I was going to say unluckily, but, I should rather say, most luckily, for Trim, for he was the only Gainer by it; — that a Quarrel, about some six or eight Weeks after this, broke out between the late Parson of the Parish and John the Clerk. Somebody (and it was thought to be Nobody but Trim) had put it into the Parson’s Head, “That John’s Desk in the Church was, at the least, four Inches higher than it should be: — That the Thing gave Offence, and was indecorous, inasmuch as it approach’d too near upon a Level with the Parson’s Desk itself.” This Hardship the Parson complained of loudly, — and told John one Day after Prayers, “He could bear it no longer: — And would have it alter’d and brought down as it should be.” John made no other Reply, but, “That the Desk was not of his raising: — That ’twas not one Hair Breadth higher than he found it; — and that as he found it, so would he leave it: — In short, he would neither make an Encroachment, nor would he suffer one.”

  The late Parson might have his Virtues, but the leading Part of his Character was not Humility; so that John’s Stiffness in this Point was not likely to reconcile Matters. — This was Trim’s Harvest.

  After a friendly Hint to John to stand his Ground, — away hies Trim to make his Market at the Vicarage: What pass’d there, I will not say, intending not to be uncharitable; so shall content myself with only guessing at it, from the sudden Change that appeared in Trim’s Dress for the better; — for he had left his old ragged Coat, Hat and Wig, in the Stable, and was come forth strutting across the Church-yard, y’clad in a good creditable cast Coat, large Hat and Wig, which the Parson had just given him. — Ho! Ho! Hollo! John! cries Trim, in an insolent Bravo, as loud as ever he could bawl — See here, my Lad! how fine I am. — The more Shame for you, answered John, seriously. — Do you think, Trim, says he, such Finery, gain’d by such Services, becomes you, or can wear well? — Fye upon it, Trim; — I could not have expected this from you, considering what Friendship you pretended, and how kind I have ever been to you: — How many Shillings and Sixpences I have generously lent you in your Distresses? — Nay, it was but t’other Day that I promised you these black Plush Breeches I have on. — Rot your Breeches, quoth Trim; for Trim’s Brain was half turn’d with his new Finery: — Rot your Breeches, says he, — I would not take them up, were they laid at my Door; — give ‘em, and be d — d to you, to whom you like; I would have you to know I can have a better Pair at the Parson’s any Day in the Week: — John told him plainly, as his Word had once pass’d him, he had a Spirit above taking Advantage of his Insolence, in giving them away to another: — But, to tell him his Mind freely, he thought he had got so many Favours of that Kind, and was so likely to get many more for the same Services, of the Parson, that he had better give up the Breeches, with good Nature, to some one who would be more thankful for them.

  Here John mentioned Mark Slender, (who, it seems, the Day before, had ask’d John for ‘em) not knowing they were under Promise to Trim.— “Come, Trim, says he, let poor Mark have ‘em, — You know he has not a Pair to his. A — : Besides, you see he is just of my Size, and they will fit him to a T; whereas, if I give ‘em to you, — look ye, they are not worth much; and, besides, you could not get your Backside into them, if you had them, without tearing them all to Pieces.”

  Every Tittle of this was most undoubtedly true; for Trim, you must know, by foul Feeding, and playing the good Fellow at the Parson’s, was grown somewhat gross about the lower Parts, if not higher: So that, as all John said upon the Occasion was fact, Trim, with much ado, and after a hundred Hum’s and Hah’s, at last, out of mere Compassion to Mark, signs, seals, and delivers up all Right, Interest, and Pretentions whatsoever, in and to the said breeches; thereby binding his Heirs, Executors, Administrators, and Assignes, never more to call the said Claim in Question.

  All this Renunciation was set forth in an ample Manner, to be in pure Pity to Mark’s Nakedness; — but the Secret was, Trim had an Eye to, and firmly expected in his own Mind, the great Green Pulpit-Cloth and old Velvet Cushion, which were that very Year to be taken down; — which, by the Bye, could he have wheedled John a second Time out of ‘em, as he hoped, he had made up the Loss of his Breeches Seven-fold.

  Now, you must know, this Pulpit-Cloth and Cushion were not in John’s Gift, but in the Church-Wardens, &c. — However, as I said above, that John was a leading Man in the Parish, Trim knew he could help him to them if he would: — But John had got a Surfeit of him; — so, when the Pulpit-Cloth, &c. were taken down, they were immediately given (John having a great Say in it) to William Doe, who understood very well what Use to make of them.

  As for the old Breeches, poor Mark Slender lived to wear them but a short Time, and they got into the Possession of Lorry Slim, an unlucky Wight, by whom they are still worn; — in Truth, as you will guess, they are very thin by this Time: — But Lorry has a light Heart; and what recommends them to him, is this, that, as, thin as they are, he knows that Trim, let him say what he will to the contrary, still envies the Possessor of them, — and, with all his Pride, would be very glad to wear them after him.

  Upon this Footing have these Affairs slept quietly for near ten Years, — and would have slept for ever, but for the unlucky Kicking-Bout; which, as I said, has ripp’d this Squabble up afresh: So that it was no longer ago than last Week, that Trim met and insulted John in the public Town- Way, before a hundred People; — tax’d him with the Promise of the old- cast-Pair-of-black-Breeches, notwithstanding Trim’s solemn Renunciation; twitted him with the Pulpit-Cloth and Velvet Cushion, — as good as told him, he was ignorant of the common Duties of his Clerkship; adding, very insolently, That he knew not so much as to give out a common Psalm in Tune. —

  John contented himself with giving a plain Answer to every Article that Trim had laid to his Charge, and appealed to his Neighbours who remembered the whole Affair; — and as he knew there was never any Thing to be got in wrestling with a Chimney-Sweeper, — he was going to take Leave of Trim for ever. — But, hold, — the Mob by this Time had got round them, and their High Mightinesses insisted upon having Trim tried upon the Spot. — Trim was accordingly tried; and, after a full Hearing, was convicted a sec
ond Time, and handled more roughly by one or more of them, than even at the Parson’s.

  Trim, says one, are you not ashamed of yourself, to make all this Rout and Disturbance in the Town, and set Neighbours together by the Ears, about an old-worn-out-Pair-of-cast-Breeches, not worth Half a Crown? — Is there a cast-Coat, or a Place in the whole Town, that will bring you in a Shilling, but what you have snapp’d up, like a greedy Hound as you are?

  In the first Place, are you not Sexton and Dog-Whipper, worth Three Pounds a Year? — Then you begg’d the Church-Wardens to let your Wife have the Washing and Darning of the Surplice and Church-Linen, which brings you in Thirteen Shillings and Four Pence. — Then you have Six Shillings and Eight Pence for oiling and winding up the Clock, both paid you at Easter. — The Pinder’s Place, which is worth Forty Shillings a Year, — you have got that too. — You are the Bailiff, which the late Parson got you, which brings you in Forty Shillings more. — Besides all this, you have Six Pounds a Year, paid you Quarterly for being Mole-Catcher to the Parish. — Aye, says the luckless Wight above-mentioned, (who was standing close to him with his Plush Breeches on) “You are not only Mole-Catcher, Trim, but you catch STRAY CONIES too in the Dark; and you pretend a Licence for it, which, I trove, will be look’d into at the next Quarter Sessions.” I maintain it, I have a Licence, says Trim, blushing as red as Scarlet: — I have a Licence, — and as I farm a Warren in the next Parish, I will catch Conies every Hour of the Night. — You catch Conies! cries a toothless old Woman, who was just passing by. —

  This set the Mob a laughing, and sent every Man home in perfect good

  Humour, except Trim, who waddled very slowly off with that Kind of

  inflexible Gravity only to be equalled by one Animal in the whole

  Creation, — and surpassed by none, I am,

  SIR, Yours, &c. &c.

  FINIS.

  POSTSCRIPT.

  I have broke open my Letter to inform you, that I miss’d the Opportunity of sending it by the Messenger, who I expected would have called upon me in his Return through this Village to York, so it has laid a Week or ten Days by me.

  — I am not sorry for the Disappointment, because something has since happened, in Continuation of this Affair, which I am thereby enabled to transmit to you, all under one Trouble.

  When I finished the above Account, I thought (as did every Soul in the

  Parish) Trim had met with so thorough a Rebuff from John the Parish-

  Clerk and the Town’s Folks, who all took against him, that Trim would be

  glad to be quiet, and let the Matter rest.

  But, it seems, it is not half an Hour ago since Trim sallied forth again; and, having borrowed a Sow-Gelder’s Horn, with hard Blowing he got the whole Town round him, and endeavoured to raise a Disturbance, and fight the whole Battle over again: — That he had been used in the last Fray worse than a Dog; — not by John the Parish-Clerk, — for I shou’d not, quoth Trim, have valued him a Rush single Hands: — But all the Town sided with him, and twelve Men in Buckram set upon me all at once, and kept me in Play at Sword’s Point for three Hours together. — Besides, quoth Trim, there were two misbegotten Knaves in Kendal Green, who lay all the while in Ambush in John’s own House, and they all sixteen came upon my Back, and let drive at me together. — A Plague, says Trim, of all Cowards! — Trim repeated this Story above a Dozen Times; — which made some of the Neighbours pity him, thinking the poor Fellow crack-brain’d, and that he actually believed what he said. After this Trim dropp’d the Affair of the Breeches, and begun a fresh Dispute about the Reading- Desk, which I told you had occasioned some small Dispute between the late Parson and John, some Years ago.

  This Reading-Desk, as you will observe, was but an Episode wove into the main Story by the Bye; — for the main Affair was the Battle of the Breeches and Great Watch-Coat. — However, Trim being at last driven out of these two Citadels, — he has seized hold, in his Retreat, of this Reading-Desk, with a View, as it seems, to take Shelter behind it.

  I cannot say but the Man has fought it out obstinately enough; — and, had his Cause been good, I should have really pitied him. For when he was driven out of the Great Watch-Coat, — you see, he did not run away; — no, — he retreated behind the Breeches; — and, when he could make nothing of it behind the Breeches, — he got behind the Reading-Desk. — To what other Hold Trim will next retreat, the Politicians of this Village are not agreed. — Some think his next Move will be towards the Rear of the Parson’s Boot; — but, as it is thought he cannot make a long Stand there, — others are of Opinion, That Trim will once more in his Life get hold of the Parson’s Horse, and charge upon him, or perhaps behind him. But as the Horse is not easy to be caught, the more general Opinion is, That, when he is driven out of the Reading-Desk, he will make his last Retreat in such a Manner as, if possible, to gain the Close-Stool, and defend himself behind it to the very last Drop. If Trim should make this Movement, by my Advice he should be left besides his Citadel, in full Possession of the Field of Battle; — where, ’tis certain, he will keep every Body a League off, and may pop by himself till he is weary: Besides, as Trim seems bent upon purging himself, and may have Abundance of foul Humours to work off, I think he cannot be better placed.

  But this is all Matter of Speculation. — Let me carry you back to Matter of Fact, and tell you what Kind of a Stand Trim has actually made behind the said Desk.

  “Neighbours and Townsmen all, I will be sworn before my Lord Mayor, That John and his nineteen Men in Buckram, have abused me worse than a Dog; for they told you that I play’d fast and go-loose with the late Parson and him, in that old Dispute of theirs about the Reading-Desk; and that I made Matters worse between them, and not better.”

  Of this Charge, Trim declared he was as innocent as the Child that was unborn: That he would be Book-sworn he had no Hand in it. He produced a strong Witness; — and, moreover, insinuated, that John himself, instead of being angry for what he had done in it, had actually thank’d him. Aye, Trim, says the Wight in the Plush Breeches, but that was, Trim, the Day before John found thee out. — Besides, Trim, there is nothing in that: — For, the very Year that thou wast made Town’s Pinder, thou knowest well, that I both thank’d thee myself; and, moreover, gave thee a good warm Supper for turning John Lund’s Cows and Horses out of my Hard-Corn Close; which if thou had’st not done, (as thou told’st me) I should have lost my whole Crop: Whereas, John Lund and Thomas Patt, who are both here to testify, and will take their Oaths on’t, That thou thyself wast the very Man who set the Gate open; and, after all, — it was not thee, Trim,— ’twas the Blacksmith’s poor Lad who turn’d them out: So that a Man may be thank’d and rewarded too for a good Turn which he never did, nor ever did intend.

  Trim could not sustain this unexpected Stroke; — so Trim march’d off the

  Field, without Colours flying, or his Horn sounding, or any other

  Ensigns of Honour whatever.

  Whether after this Trim intends to rally a second Time, or whether Trim may not take it into his Head to claim the Victory, — no one but Trim himself can inform you: — However, the general Opinion, upon the whole, is this, That, in three several pitch’d Battles, Trim has been so trimm’d, as never disastrous Hero was trimm’d before him.

  THE KEY.

  This Romance was, by some Mischance or other, dropp’d in the Minster-

  Yard, York, and pick’d up by a Member of a small Political Club in that

  City; where it was carried, and publickly read to the Members the last

  Club Night.

  It was instantly agreed to, by a great Majority, That it was a Political Romance; but concerning what State or Potentate, could not so easily be settled amongst them.

  The President of the Night, who is thought to be as clear and quick- lighted as any one of the whole Club in Things of this Nature, discovered plainly, That the Disturbances therein set forth, related to those on the Continent: — That Trim could be Nobody but the K
ing of France, by whole shifting and intriguing Behaviour, all Europe was set together by the Ears: — That Trim’s Wife was certainly the Empress, who are as kind together, says he, as any Man and Wife can be for their Lives. — The more Shame for ‘em, says an Alderman, low to himself. — Agreeable to this Key, continues the President, — The Parson, who I think is a most excellent Character, — is His Most Excellent Majesty King George; — John, the Parish-Clerk, is the King of Prussia; who, by the Manner of his first entering Saxony, shew’d the World most evidently, — That he did know how to lead out the Psalm, and in Tune and Time too, notwithstanding Trim’s vile Insult upon him in that Particular. — But who do you think, says a Surgeon and Man-Midwife, who sat next him, (whose Coat-Button the President, in the Earnestness of this Explanation, had got fast hold of, and had thereby partly drawn him over to his Opinion) Who do you think, Mr. President, says he, are meant by the Church- Wardens, Sides-Men, Mark Slender, Lorry Slim, &c. — Who do I think? says he, Why, — Why, Sir, as I take the Thing, — the Church-Wardens and Sides- Men, are the Electors and the other Princes who form the Germanick Body. — And as for the other subordinate Characters of Mark Slim, — the unlucky Wight in the Plush Breeches, — the Parson’s Man who was so often out of the Way, &c. &c. — these, to be sure, are the several Marshals and Generals, who fought, or should have fought, under them the last Campaign. — The Men in Buckram, continued the President, are the Grofs of the King of Prussia’s Army, who are as stiff a Body of Men as are in the World: — And Trim’s saying they were twelve, and then nineteen, is a Wipe for the Brussels Gazetteer, who, to my Knowledge, was never two Weeks in the same Story, about that or any thing else.

  As for the rest of the Romance, continued the President, it sufficiently explains itself, — The Old-cast-Pair-of-Black-Plush-Breeches must be Saxony, which the Elector, you see, has left of wearing: — And as for the Great Watch-Coat, which, you know, covers all, it signifies all Europe; comprehending, at least, so many of its different States and Dominions, as we have any Concern with in the present War.