They passed by a small inn, bearing the common sign of the "Chequers," round which a crowd of peasants were assembled, listening to the rude music which a wandering Italian boy drew from his guitar.

The scene was rustic and picturesque; and as Godolphin reined in his horse and gazed on the group, he little dreamed of the fierce and dark emotions with which, at a far distant period, he was destined to revisit that spot.
"Our peasants," said he, as they rode on, "require some humanising relaxation like that we have witnessed.

The music and the morris-dance have gone from England; and instead of providing, as formerly, for the amusement of the grinded labourer, our legislators now regard with the most watchful jealousy his most distant approach to festivity.

They cannot bear the rustic to be merry: disorder and amusement are words for the same offence." "I doubt," said the earnest Constance, "whether the legislators are not right.

For men given to amusement are easily enslaved.