Eugenius, who was not at all indispos’d to listen to Exhortations of this Nature, not only imbrac’d this made him by his Friend, but with earnestness enough continu’d the Conference to explain his meaning, and satisfie Eusebius, that he did not think Piety fit to be discountenanc’d, though he thought Hypocrisie was so, and that he was no Enemy to the Profession of Religion, but to those that blemish’d it by unsuitable Practices. And with such kind of Discourses we continu’d our Walk, till being come to a Style, over which we were to pass out of one Meadow into another, I chanc’d to stop, and turn about to pay Lindamor the Respect of desiring him to lead me the way over: But not finding him there, I hastily cast my Eyes all over the Field, till at length they discover’d him a good way off, in a Posture that seem’d extremely serious, and wherein he stood as immoveable as a Statue. This sight soon carry’d me towards him, and I had dispatch’d half my way before his changing his Posture gave him an opportunity to discover me, which as soon as he did, he immediately came to meet me, and almost before I had ask’d him the occasion of what I had seen; Whilst (reply’d he) Eugenius was purging himself from a fault that none that knows him will suspect him to be guilty of, I was detain’d a little behind you by the Musick of one of those Larks, whose melody was so charming, that I could not find in my heart to make haste from it: But whilst I was listening to it, my Attention was diverted by a nobler Object, for I heard, from the further corner of this Meadow, a Voice, which, though not govern’d with Skil, did so repair the want of it by its native sweetness, that Art was absent without being miss’d, and I could not but have some Curiosity to see who was the Possessor of so much power to please; turning then my steps towards that part of the Field whence the Voice came, my Eyes quickly ceas’d to envy my Ears, for they discover’d, kneeling by a Cow, and singing to her whilst she milk’d her, a Person, who, in the habit of a Milk-maid, seem’d to disguise one of those Nymphs that Poets are wont to describe us. And that you may not wonder, continues Lindamor, at what I shall say to you of a country Girle, Know, that methought I saw in her Face something more like Hermione, before she prov’d inconstant, than I expected to find in any of her Sex: I will not tell you, that this fair Creature had the Blushes of the Morning in her Cheeks, the Splendour of the Sun in her Eyes, the freshness of the Fields in her Looks, the whiteness of the Milk she express’d in her Skin, and the melody of the Larks, we were admiring, in her Voice, least you should think Mr. Boyls Seraphick Love had lost its Operation on me. But I may perhaps without much Hyperbole, give you this Account of her, that though her Cloaths are almost as course as cleanly, and though they are suited to her Condition, yet they are very ill suited to her Beauty, which, as if Nature intended a Triumph over Fortune, has, without any assistance of Ornament, more distress’d my Liberty, than others have been able to do with all their most curious Dresses. And this fair Creature, continues Lindamor, as she is rich in Natures bounty, appear’d as well by the chearfulness of the Tune she sung, as by the manner of her Singing it, so satisfy’d with the unpurchas’d Treasures she possesses, that she seem’d almost as much pleas’d as I was to look upon her. This Character of Lindamors inviting me to go see, whether or no it were deserv’d, and the frequent Experience I have had, that ev’n upon such bright Eyes as Poets, and Lovers, call’d Suns, I could gaze undazel’d enough to approve my self a right Eagle, assuring me I might safely do it, I fearlesly, but softly, approach’d the place where the fair Milk-maid was solliciting the Udder of a fresh Cow, and I found, that though indeed some Resemblance she had to Hermione, had made Lindamor flatter her, yet she look’d at once so innocently, and prettily, that she seem’d like to do Mischief, without at all intending it; and I could not but fancy, that if some Ladies that are much cry’d up, and are very imperious Mistresses, because they are so, were bound to change Dresses with this unsophisticated and unadorn’d Maid, the one would appear to owe her Beauty to Art, and the other to be beholden for hers to nothing but Nature. But, Lindamor, who is not naturally indispos’d to be Amorous, did not think that this Imagination of mine did that pretty Creature right: for when I told him she would eclipse a hundred of our fine Ladies, if she had but the Dress of one of them; Why, that (replies he, with a kind of Indignation) she can do without it, and perhaps, subjoyns he, as much as with it: For her present habit leaves her most her self, and Bravery would but disguise, or hide what it cannot adorn. And I am confident, (continues he) that should such a genuine Beauty appear among the Gallants, she would really captivate many, ev’n of those wary ones that do but pretend to be so, to the designing and applauded Ladies: For though Skil may encounter the Wiles of Art, it would scarce be able to resist the Charms of Nature. But whilst Lindamor was thus Complementing with what he fancy’d the Picture of his once lov’d Hermione, and had his Eyes as much fix’d upon her, as dazl’d ones could be, the lovely Milk-maid, (who, all this while having not taken notice of us, was as regardless of Lindamor, as he seem’d to be of all things but her) having dispatch’d what she was doing, took up her Pail to carry it homewards: But her way chancing to lye by that part of the Meadow where we were yet standing, she could not but discover us, and judging by our Cloaths, and more by Lindamors Meer, that we were of a Quality differing from theirs she was wont to converse with, she gave us a Salute low enough to let us see that she forgot not her Condition, but attended with so much Gracefulness, as made Lindamor conclude she merited a better, and, as she pass’d by him, to return the gesture of Respect, which he thought so much Beauty had a right in any habit to exact; she vouchsaf’d him a Smile, which, I after told him, would have made him happy, if he had thought it had proceeded from Kindness, not Civility; and she went away with a Look so serene, as well as taking, that she seem’d to carry home with her far more quiet, than she left him possess’d of. But I that had lost sight of her, without losing any thing with it, save the expectation of seeing in haste so fair a Milk-maid, was going to Railler with Lindamor, about what had pass’d, when I was restrain’d, by perceiving that the sight of a Person that seem’d so contented, together with the native pleasantness of that place, and of that glorious Morning, had such an operation upon him, that he could not forbear to celebrate the happiness and innocency of a Country life. And after he had with much Transport, and Fluency, repeated the substance of what Ovid and other antient Poets had in their strain deliver’d concerning the felicity of the Golden Age, he began to apply as much of it as the Matter would bear, to the recommending of a Rural life, and was very sollicitous to make me acknowledge, that though we are wont to look upon Villagers as an inferiour and wretched sort of People, yet they are the persons of the World, whose condition is the most proper, not only to keep them innocent, but to make them happy: Their cheap and simple way of Living, allowing them to rest contented, with what bounteous Nature has provided for them, or an easie Industry can procure them. Whereas among Men nobly Born, or Persons of Quality, ‘tis look’d upon as want of Breeding, for a Man not to think himself unhappy, as long as he hath not a thousand Pound a Year.