to bring the town to reason, mad? Is the man, who settles poetry on the basis of antiquity, mad? See Longinus in my right hand, and Aristotle in my left! [Calls after the Doctor, Bookseller, and the Nurse, from the top of the stairs.] I am the only man among the moderns, that supports the venerable ancients. And am I to be assassinated? shall a bookseller, who has lived upon my labours, take away that life to which he owes his support? [Goes into his garret, and shuts the door.] 120. The two Bees. On a fine morning in May, two Bees set forward in quest of honey: the one wise and temperate, the other careless and extravagant. They soon arrived at a garden enriched with aromatic herbs, the most fragrant flowers, and the most delicious fruits. They regaled themselves for a time on the various dainties that were spread before them: the one loading his thigh at intervals with provisions for the hive against the distant winter; the other revelling in sweets, without regard to any thing but his present gratification. At length they found a wide-mouthed phial, that hung beneath the bough of a peachtree, filled with honey ready-tempered, and exposed to their taste in the most allur ing manner. The thoughtless epicure, spite of all his friend's remonstrances, plunged headlong into the vessel, resolving to indulge himself in all the pleasures of sensuality. The philosopher on the other hand, sipped a little with caution: but being suspicious of danger, flew off to fruits and flowers: where, by the moderation of his meals, he improved his relish for the truc enjoyment of them. In the evening, however, he called upon his friend, to enquire whether he would return to the hive; but found him surfeited in sweets, which he was as unable to leave, as to enjoy. Clogged in his wings, enfeebled in his feet, and his whole frame totally enervated, he was but just able to bid his friend adieu, and to lament with his latest breath, that, though a taste of pleasure might quicken the relish of life, an unrestrained indulgence is inevitable destruction. § 121. Pleasant Scene of Anger, and the Disappointment of it. There came into a bookseller's shop a very learned man, with an erect solemn air: who, though a person of great parts otherwise, is slow in understanding any thing which makes against himself. After he had turned over many volumes, said the seller to him,-Sir, you know I have long asked you to send me back the first volume of French Sermons I formerly lent you. Sir, said the chapman, I have often looked for it but cannot find it: it is certainly lost; and I know not to whom I lent it, it is so many years ago. Then, Sir, here is the other volume; I'll send you home that, and please to pay for both. My friend, replied he, can'st thou be so senseless, as not to know, that one volume is as imperfect in my library, as in your shop? Yes, Sir, but it is you have lost the first volume; and, to be short, I will be paid. Sir, answered the chapman, you are a young man; your book is lost; and learn, by this little loss, to bear much greater adversities; which you must expect to meet with. Yes, Sir, I'll bear when I must; but I have not lost now, for I say you have it, and shall pay me. Friend, you grow warm; I tell you, the book is lost; and I foresee, in the course even of a prosperous life, that you will meet afflictions to make you mad, if you cannot bear this trifle. Sir, there is, in this case, no need of bearing, for you have the book. I say, Sir, I have not the book; but your passion, will not let you hear enough to be informed that I have it not. Learn resignation betimes to the distresses of this life: nay, do not fret and fume; it is my duty to tell you that you are of an impatient spirit; and an impatient spirit is never without woe. Was ever any thing like this?—Yes, Sir, there have been many things like this. The loss is but a trifle; but your temper is wanton, and incapable of the least pain; therefore, let me advise you, be patient: the book is lost, but do not you, for that reason, lose yourself. Spectator. $122. Falstaff's Encomiums on Sack. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in it-It ascends me into the brain: dries me, there all the foolish, dull, and crudy vapours which environ it: makes it apprehensive, quick, inventive; full of nimbly, fiery, and delectable shapes, which delivered over to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. -The second property of your excellent sherris is, the warming of the blood; which before, cold and settled, left the liver white and pale which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice. But the sherris warms it, and makes its course from the inwards to to the parts extreme. It illuminateth the face, which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of this little kingdom, man, to arm; and, then, the vital commoners, and inland petty spirits, muster me all to their captain, the heart; who, great, and puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage, and this valour comes of sherris. So that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack, for that sets it a work; and learning a mere hoard of gold kept by a devil, till sack commences it, and sets it in act and use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is valiant: for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father he hath, like lean, sterile, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with drinking good, and good store of fertile sherris.-If I had, a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them, should be-To for swear thin potations, and to addict themselves to sack. Shakespeare. 123. Hotspur reading a letter. "But, for mine own part, my lord, I "could be well contented to be there, in 66 respect of the love I bear your house." -He could be contented to be there! Why is he not then?-In respect of the love he bears our house! He shews in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves our house. Let me see some more. "The purpose you undertake is dangerous." -Why, that's certain; 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you my lord fool, out of this nettle danger, we pluck this flower safety. "The "purpose you undertake is dangerous; "the friends you have named, uncertain; " and time itself, unsorted; and your whole "plot too light for the counterpoise of so great an opposition."-Say you so, say you so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and you lie. What a lackbrain is this! Our plot is a good plot as ever was laid: our friends true and constant; a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue this is! Why, my lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself; lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, besides, the Dougglas? Have I not all their letters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of the next month? 66 and are there not some of them set forward already? What a Pagan rascal is this! an infidel!-Ha! you shall see now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king, and lay open all our proceedings. O! I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skimmed milk with so honourable an action.-Hang him! let him tell the king. We are prepared. I will set forward tonight. Ibid. § 124. Falstaff's Soliloquy on Honour. Owe heaven a death! 'Tis not due yet; and I would be loth to pay him before his day. What need I be so forward with him that calls not on me?-Well, 'tis no matter, honour pricks me on. But how if honour pricks me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no; or take away the grief of a wound? no. grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is that word honour? air: a trim reckoning. Who hath it? he that died a Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. It is insensible then? yea to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it; therefore, I'll none of it; honour is a mere 'scutcheon; and so ends my catechism. Ibid. 125. The perfect Speaker. Imagine to yourselves a Demosthenes addressing the most illustrious assembly in the world, upon a point whereon the fate of the most illustrious of nations depended. -How awful such a meeting! How vast the subject!—Is man possessed of talents adequate to the great occasion? Adequate yes, superior. By the power of his eloquence, the augustness of the assembly is lost in the dignity of the orator; and the importance of the subject for a while superseded, by the admiration of his talents. With what strength of argument, with what powers of the fancy, with what emotions of the heart, does he assault and subjugate the whole man, and, at once, captivate his reason, his imagination, and his passions!-To effect this, must be the utmost effort of the most improved state of human nature.-Not a faculty that he possesses, is here unemployed; not a faculty that he possesses but is here exerted to its highest pitch. All his internal powers are at work; all his external testify their energies. Within, the memory, the fancy, the : the judgment, the passions, are all busy; without, every muscle, every nerve, is exerted not a feature, not a limb, but speak. The organs of the body, attuned to the exertions of the mind, through the kindred organs of the hearers, instantaneously, and as it were with an electrical spirit, vibrates those energies from soul to soul. Notwithstanding the diversity of minds in such a multitude, by the lightning of eloquence, they are melted into one mass-the whole assembly, actuated in one and the same way, become as it were, but one man, and have but one voice. The universal cry is-Let us march against Philip-let us fight for our liberties-let us conquer-or die. § 126. Distempers of the mind cured. Sir, Being bred to the study of physic, and having observed, with sorrow and regret, that whatever success the faculty may meet with in bodily distempers, they are generally baffled by distempers of the mind, I have made the latter the chief subject of my attention, and may venture to affirm, that my labour has not been thrown away. Though young in my profession, I have had a tolerable share of experience, and have a right to expect, that the credit of some extraordinary cures I have performed will furnish me with opportunities of performing more. In the mean time, I require it of you, not as a favour to myself, but as an act of justice to the public, to insert the following in your chronicle. Mr. Abraham Buskin, taylor, was horribly infected with the itch of stage-playing, to the grievous discomfiture of his wife, and the great detriment of nine small children. I prevailed with the manager of one of the theatres to admit him for a single night in the character of Othello, in which it may be remembered that a but ton-maker had formerly distinguished himself; when, having secured a seat in a convenient corner of the gallery, by the dexterous application of about three pecks of potatoes to the sinciput and occiput of the patient, I entirely cured him of his delirium; and he has ever since betaken himself quietly to his needle and thimble. Mr. Edward Snap was of so choleric a temper, and so extremely apt to think himself affronted, that it was reckoned dangerous even to look at him. I tweaked him by the nose, and administered the proper application behind: and he is now so goodhumoured, that he will take the greatest affront imaginable without shewing the least resentment. The reverend Mr. Puff, a methodist preacher, was so extravagantly zealous and laborious in his calling, that his friends were afraid he would bawl himself into a consumption. By my interest with a noble lord, I procured him a living with a reasonable income: and he now behaves himself like a regular divine of the esta blished church, and never gets into a pul pit. Mrs. Diana Bridle, a maiden lady, about forty years of age, had a conceit that she was with child. I advised her to convert her imaginary pregnancy into a real one, by taking a husband; and she has never been troubled with any fancies of that kind since. Mr. William Moody, an elderly gen tleman, who lived in a solitary part of Kent, was apt to be very low spirited in an easterly wind. I nailed his weathercock to a westerly point; and at present, whichsoever way the wind blows, he is equally cheerful. Alexander Stingo, Esq. was so strongly possessed by the spirit of witticism, that he would not condescend to open his lips for any thing less than an epigram. Under the influence of this malady he has been so deplorably dull, that he has often been silent a whole week together. I took him into my own house; instead of laughing at his jests, I either pronounced them to be puns, or paid no attention to them at all. In a month I perceived a wonderful alteration in him for the better: from thinking with out speaking, he began to speak without thinking: at present never says a good thing, and is a very agreeable companion. I likewise cured a lady of a longing for ortolans, by a dozen of Dunstable larks; and could send you many other remarkable instances of the efficacy of my pre scriptions; but these are sufficient for a specimen. I am, &c. Bonnel Thornton. of being a wit; and having forsaken his counter for Comus's Court, and dignified himself with the appellation of a Choice Spirit, is upon the point of becoming a bankrupt. Instead of distributing his shopbills as he ought, he wastes a dozen in a morning, by scribbling shreds of his nonsense upon the back of them; and a few days since affronted an alderman, his best customer, by sending him a pound of prunes wrapt up in a ballad he had just written, called, The Citizen outwitted, or a Bob for the Mansion-House. He is likewise a regular frequenter of the play-houses, and, being acquainted with every underling of each theatre, is at an annual expence of ten pounds in tickets for their respective benefits. They generally adjourn together from the play to the tavern; and there is hardly a watchman within a mile of Covent Garden, but has had his head or his lantern broke by one or other of the ingenious fraternity. Iturned into his shop this morning, and had no sooner set my foot upon the threshold, than he leaped over the counter, threw himself into an attitude as he calls it, and asked me, in the words of some play that I remember to have seen formerly, "Whe "ther I was a spirit of health, or goblin "damned ?" I told him he was an undutitul young dog for daring to accost his uncle in that irreverent manner; and bid him speak like a Christian, and a reasonable person. Instead of being sensible of my rebuke, he took off his wig, and having very deliberately given it two or three twirls upon his fist, and pitched it upon his head again, said I was a dry old fellow and should certainly afford them much entertainment at the club, to which he had the impudence to invite me; at the same time he thrust a card into my hand, containing a bill of fare for the evening's entertainment; and, as a further inducement assured me that Mr. Twister himself would be in the chair; that he was a great creature, and so prodigiously droll that though he had heard him sing the same songs, and repeat the same stories a thousand times, he could still attend to him with as much pleasure as at first. I cast my eye over the list; and can recollect the following items: "To all true Lovers of Fun and Jocularity. "squabble; and a hog in a slaughter"house." I assured him, that so far from having any relish for those detestable noises, the more they resembled the originals the less I should like them; and if I could ever be fool enough to go, I should at least be wise enough to stop my ears till I came out again. Having lamented my deplorable want of taste, by the elevation of his eye brows and a significant shrug of his shoulders, he thrust his fore finger against the inside of his check, and plucking it out of his mouth with a jerk, made a noise which very much resembed the drawing of a cork: I found that by this signal he meant to ask me if I chose a whet? I gave my consent by a sulky kind of nod, and walked into the back room as much ashamed of my nephew as he ought to have been of himself. While he was gone to fetch a pint of mountain from the other side of the street I had an opportunity to minute down a few of the articles of which the litter of his apartment consisted, and have selected these, as the most material, from among them : On one of the sconces by the chimney, On the opposite sconce, a scratch. In the corner a walking-staff, not port- Item, A small switch. On the head of the bureau, a letter-case containing a play-bill, and a quackbill; a copy of verses, being an encomium upon Mr. Twister; another of four lines, which he calls a distich; and a third, very much blotted and scratched, and yet not finished, entitled, An Extempore Epigram. Having taken this inventory of his goods and furniture, I sat down before the fire, to devise if possible, some expedient to reclaim him; when, on a sudden, a sound like the braying of an ass at my elbow, alarmed me to such a degree, that I started from my seat in an instant, and to my further astonishment, beheld my nephew, almost black in the face, covering his ear with the hollow of his hand, and exerting the whole force of his lungs in imitating that respectable animal: I was so exasperated at this fresh instance of his folly, that I told him hastily, he might drink his wine alone, and that I would never see his face again, till he should think proper to appear in a character more worthy of himself and his family. He followed me to the door without making any reply; and, having advanced to the middle of the street, fell to clapping his sides, and crowing like a cock, with the utmost vehemence; and continued his triumphant ejaculation till I was fairly out of hearing. Having reached my lodging, I immediately resolved to send you an account of his absurdities; and shall take this opportunity to inform him, that as he is blest with such variety of useful talents, and so completely accomplished as a Choice Spirit, I shall not do him the injury to consider him as a tradesman, or mortify him hereafter by endeavouring to give him any assistance in his business. I am, &c. B. Thornton. in her tea, because it otherwise would make her low-spirited. But there is an epidemical disorder (that was formerly quite unknown; and even now wants a name) which seizes whole families here in town at this season of the year. As I can. not define it, I shall not pretend to de scribe or account for it: but one would imagine, that the people were all bit by a mad dog, as the same remedy is thought necessary. In a word of whatever nature the complaint may be, it is imagined that nothing will remove it, but spending the summer months in some dirty fishing town by the sea-shore; and the water is judged to be the most efficacious, where there is the greatest resort of afflicted persons. I called upon a friend the other morn ing, in the city, pretty early, about busi ness, when I was surprised to see a coach and four at the door, which the 'prentice and book keeper were loading with trunks, portmanteaus, baskets, and band-boxes. The front glass was screened by two round paper hat-cases hung up before it; against one door was placed a guitar-case ; and a red satin cardinal, lined and edged with fur, was pinned against the other; while the extremities of an enormous hoop-petticoat rested upon each window. These preparations were undoubtedly for a journey; and when I came in, I found the family were equipped accordingly. The lady-mother was dressed in a joseph of scarlet duffil, buttoned down from the breast to the feet, with a black silk bonnet tied down to her head with a white hand $128. A Citizen's Family setting out for kerchief: little miss (about sixteen years of Sir, Brighthelmstone. That there are many disorders peculiar to the present age, which were entirely unknown to our forefathers, will (I betive) be agreed by all physicians, especially as they find an increase of their fees from them. For instance, in the language of the advertisement, "Never were ner66 Vous disorders more frequent :" we can hardly meet with a lady that is not na-aarvous to the last degree, though our mothers and grandmothers scarce ever heard the word Nerves: the gentlemen too are affectated in the same manner; and even in the country this disorder has spread like the small pox, and infected whole villages. I have known a farmer toss off a glass of brandy in the morning to prevent his hand shaking, while his wife has been obliged to have recourse to the same cordial age) had a blue camblet jacket, cuffed and lappelled with pink sattin, with a narrow edging of silver lace, a black beaver hat, covered on the outside with white shag, and cocked behind, with a silver button and loop, and a blue feather. The old gentleman had very little particular in his dress, as he wore his usual pompadourcoloured coat with gilt buttons; only he had added to it a scarlet cloth waistcoat with a broad tarnished gold lace, which was made when he was chosen of the commoncouncil. Upon my entrance, I nsterally asked them if they were going into the country; to which the old lady replied in the affirmative, at the same time as suring me that she was sorry to take Mr. from his business, but she was obliged to it on account of her health. "Health!" says the old gentleman,“ I "don't understand your whim-whams, |