The wine was heating my own Blood as I replied: Who then can talk of the Good of Mankind and the publicke Benefit when there is nothing but Rage and Folly on the Streets? Here the Parson belched again. Men are not rational Creatures, I continu'd, they are sunk into Flesh, blinded by Passion, besotted by Folly and hardened by Vice.

Will you take some Pudding, Mr Dyer?

They are like Insects who, having their Birth in Excrement, from thence borrow their Colour and their Smell.

Parson Priddon was blowing upon his Dish of Broth as I spoke. Yes it is a filthy Crowd, says he, and so we must thank God for civil Government; for although the Grave will equal all Men, and it may be that niceties of Birth and Quality will not be observed hereafter, it is necessary for the Order and Oeconomy of the Universe that there should be differences of Breeding and Dignity. Will you send me that Tooth-pick case by you?

And I put down my Knife to speak: The Mobb will bait Cripples as well as Bears, and they will turn a wild Bull loose upon the Streets for Sport. When the Hangman leaves the Wretch kicking in the Air at Tyburn, the women and children fight to pull him down by the Legs.

Then they take a peece of his Cloathes, kiss it, and spit upon it.

Ah, these are sad Times. Will you pass me that Tooth-pick case, Mr Dyer?

And yet we must be Merry, I went on changing my Mood, for they are the Glass of our Age in which we may all see ourselves.

Well, well, Mr Dyer, everything is in Motion and we may all be chang'd by and by. He was like to have discoursed next on the quiddities of Time but, since I was straitened in that Commodity, I presently took my leave of him as he reached for the Tooth-pick case.

And now Walter hands me the Letter from Priddon: I can scarce read it, I said, since I broke my Spectacles when I dropped them on the Ground by St Mary Woolnoth. But you may do this business for me, Walter, by writing to the good Parson that he need not fear the Contagion of these Heathen altars: tell him that we are building as fine a peece of Christianity as he is like to see in London. Walter took up his Pen and waited, for he knew there was more to come. And did you inform the Mason's assistant, I added, that my Tablet must be made of hard Stone and set rough upon the Stroake?

It is all done, said he with a Sigh.

And when the Tablet is finished, Walter, make it plain that no one is to come near it: I wish to have care of it and be my own Carver. It will be my Inscription. Walter turned to the Window in order to hide his Face from me, tho' I knew what Thoughts were swarming through his Head. He fears that he will become an Object of Scorn and Suspicion for conducting my Orders and seeming too close with me. Why be so Dismal? I asked him.

I? I am not Dismal.

I see it even in your Posture, Walter, but there is no need for this Gloominesse. Then I added: They do not sing my Praise now but they will never, never forget my Work.

At this point he turned round of a Sudden: Oh I quite forgot, says he, Sir Christopher sent word that he must see your Ground-platts and your Uprights without delay: he visits the Commission tomorrow and must be thoroughly familiar with them.

Who tells you this?

Master Hayes informed me, he replied reddening a little.

And where may Sir Christopher be?

He has gone to Crane Court to read a Lecture there. Shall I inform Mr Hayes to have the Plans taken there? Then he stopp'd short when he saw my Visage. Or shall I carry them myself?

No, I replied, I will go with them in a Moment since I have other business with Sir Chris. But I could not refrain from adding: Mr Hayes is not to be spoken of, and have I not told you to trust nobody except yourself?

So it was in some Discomposure of Mind that I coach'd it to Crane Court where the Greshamites, or Fellows of the Royal Society, or Virtuosi, or Mountebanks, or Dogs, dissect the Mites in Cheese and discourse upon Atomes: they are such Quacks as you would desire to Piss upon, and I would rather stay in my Closet than indure one of their Assemblies where they tittle-tattle on their Observations and Thoughts, their Guesses and Opinions, their Probabilities and Conceptions, their Generations and Corruptions, their Increasings and Lessenings, their Instruments and Quantities. And yet it was of Necessity that I waited on Sir Chris.: if I showed him the Draughts, he would approve them instantly, but if I neglected to make them known to him he would at some later time examine them with great Intensity and discover all manner of seeming Faults.

Is Sir Christopher Wren withinne? I ask'à of a mean-faced Porter when I arrived at the Door.

He is with Gentlemen of the highest Importance, says he, and you can on no account be admitted to him. And then he added with a haughty Look: some foreigners are present.

I have Papers of the highest Importance, I replied, and with a severe Countenance (from biting my Lip) I brush'd by him.

There was a great number of People in the Hall, some of whom were known to me by Sight, and i walk'd to the Stairhead so that they might not take Notice of me: for look, they would say, here is Master Dyer, a mean Architect, and no fit Man for our Discourse. I could hear Sir Chris, his Voice and it put me in so sudden a Fear that I could not go near him but walked up into the Repository and Library (which is three Rooms struck into one). I sat here upon a Stool and, to calm my self, surveyed the Books around me: A Discourse on the Air Register lean'd against Hypothesis on Earthquakes which was near to toppling upon A Discourse on Fire and flames. And I could have laughed out loud at these Reasoners engaged in their wise Disputes. I took down from its Shelf Dr Burnet's New System of the World, and saw that some skilful Philosopher had written upon the Frontispiece, IN CONFUTATION OF MOSES; you could as easily set a Mouse-Trap Maker against an Ingineer.

The Repository smelt of Damp and Cole-dust but when I rose quickly to take a sudden Cramp from my right Leg, I knocked my Head against some living Thing above me; I might have scream'd out but, glancing up in Terror, I saw it was a strange Bird petrified and suspended upon a Wire. You have found one of our Rarities, a Voice in a Corner said to me and, squinting into the Gloom, I saw an odd-shaped and melancholy-visaged old man pointing to the Bird upon the Wire. It is a white-fronted Goose from Aegypt, says he, and now beleeved quite Lost from the World. And yet, he adds coming towards me, you know the Poet's words: Nothing is lost when once it is Designed, It is Eternal work when perfect of its Kind.

Quite eternal, says he stroking the Bird's drooping Wing with his Finger, quite, quite eternal: tho', he added quickly, it is also of great Use for our Aerial Mechanicks. I touch'd the Wing of the Bird also, for I could think of nothing to say. You see around you, he goes on, the Relics of many of Nature's kingdoms: in this Bottle you may view a Serpent found in the Entrails of a living Man and there, in that Box yonder, Insects which breed in Man's teeth and flesh; in the wooden Chest beside it, you will see all manner of Mosses and Mushrooms and in there, on that Shelf, certain Vegetable Bodies petrified. There in that Corner, he continues wheeling around, is a Monkey from the Indies which is as tall as a Man, and in this Cabinet here some marine Gems from the Islands of Barbados: the Mysteries of Nature will soon be Mysteries no more; and he snuffled a little as he spoke. But I forget myself, he adds, have you seen the Abortive put up in Pickle which is but newly come? No? Then you must view this Homunculus. At which point he leads me by the Arm to a glass Jar set upon a Table in which the Thing was suspended. We dissect tomorrow, says he, all being well; I am interested for myself in its Mathematicall Ratios.