“For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde, Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.” Chaucer, the Clerk’s Tale.

My Lords and Gentlemen,

I have been silent over the past few weeks. With His Majestie on the advice of his Ministers’ proscribing the customary seasonal Festivities in a manner not seen since the days of Oliver Cromwell and with the Foul Pestilence abroad, my spirits have been most downcast. The quarantine has created a mood of melancholy in me. Today, however my spirits have been lifted and I shall resume my record of the Follies which beset the Nation before turning my mind to the commencement of my Treatise.

On my daily walk which is still permitted to me despite the aforementioned quarantine, I chanced to meet my good friends Charles Dartiquenave Esq and the Duke of Somerset at St James’s. Mr  Dartiquenave told me of a most troubling matter which has arisen amongst the followers of Mr Stormer and certain Scottish people.

As you will know in England the New Year commences on Lady Day, viz. 25^th March. Those who live on the Continent, however, have taken to celebrating the New Year on 1^st January in accordance with Popish customs. This too is the custom amongst the Scots. Why the new year is believed by these people to commence in the middle of Winter rather than at the start of Spring is unfathomable to the intelligent mind.

Mr Dartiquenave however did vouchsafe to me that the congregants of Parson Stormer (despite the protestations of this dour clergyman) are agitating that we must still adopt European custom notwithstanding His Majestie’s victories¹In the War of the Spanish Succession in which we defeated our Continental enemies, to wit the French. What is more, he said, many in Scotland are clamouring that our now united Kingdom should adopt barbarous continental ways rather than that they should adopt our time-honoured and genteel English Customs. Indeed, the Scots are again talking of Secession if they do not get their way despite the result of the quelling of their attempts at such as recently as 1715.

I quipped: “the Scots are again ahead of themselves” (you will understand that while the year is still 1720, the muddleheaded Scots believe it to be 1721). For his part, Lord Somerset remarked that this indeed appeared to be a case of the Scottish Tail Wagging the English Dog. To which I responded with a quip. “Why does a dog wag its tail?” I asked in a rhetorical manner before giving the answer: “It is because no one else would do it for him”.

His Lordship remarked that he had a pressing engagement at the Palace and Mr Dartiquenave pointed out that we had broken the quarantine by taking our exercise with more than one person. So, with a bow I took my leave of these gentlemen whom, I believe were much impressed by my ready wit.

While walking home I did come upon Mr Mortdecai Benjamin. I told him about my witty exchange with the Duke of Somerset. Mr Benjamin was obviously much impressed but sought to lift my mood still further with this story which I will now relate.

Abraham and Moses were neighbours and bitter rivals.

“My dog is so smart,” Abraham boasted, “that every morning he waits for the milk maid, pays her and then brings me milk for my breakfast, along with my morning medicine.”

“I know,” said Moses

“How could you know?” asked Abraham.

“Because my dog told me”, replied Moses.

I must say that I could not contain my laughter. My spirits thus lifted, I shall now return to my Treatise and in my next Essay shall deal with the commotion amongst the proponents of Wakefulness which has been caused by Three Wise Monkeys.

I remain your humble and obedient Servant,

The Somnambulist.