Chapter LV: Book VII: v. 438

The swan with arched neck
Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows
Her state with oary feet.

SILIUS ITALICUS, XIV. 190.

Haud secus Eridani stagnis ripâve Caystri
Innatat albus olor, pronoque immobile corpus
Dat fluvio, et pedibus tacitas eremigat undas.

The lines which are subjoined are among the very first poetical productions of the late amiable Mr. Jerningham.

AN IRREGULAR ODE IN HONOUR OF MISS CAMPBELL,

BY MR. J⸺M,

_Written Impromptu at Lady J⸺’s Tea Table_.

1.

Oh the pride
Of Lord Hyde,
And the care
Of Lord Clare,
And the darling
Of Alderman Starling.

2.

For Venus oft art thou mistaken,
In Bruton-street, by Teddy Bacon[7].

3.

Sir Armine[8], when he looks at thee,
Forgets his house of Industry.

4.

One touch of thy celestial hand,
Tho’ shaded by thy brownest glove,
(Such is the power of mighty Love)
Consumes to atoms Mr. Brand[9].

5.

Thy rising charms spread such alarms,
That when of late to Berkeley-square[10],
(With conquests big) thou didst repair,
Intent thy skill in dancing to display,
The amorous youth for fear kept all away.

6.

In prose or rhyme it cannot told be,
How deep you’ve wounded Mr. Bowlby.

7.

One of the valiant sons of war
Still wears thy deep imprinted scar,
’Tis Captain—what d’ye call him—Pshaw!
The little Adjutant—Fanshaw[11].

8.

Then to Squallini Brooke[12] thou’rt such a treat,
The Doctor _sweetly_ smiles, and does not—eat.

9.

And when you come to Grosvenor-square,
You make no small confusion there,
Thy beauteous form too briskly urges
The throbbing pulse of Mr. Burges[13].

10.

To Mr. Lombe[14] you give a fever,
For thee he quits his lovely B⸺r.

11.

Thy beauty casts so warm a ray,
That hearts and bowels melt away,
On warlike Alpe[15], of the Militia,
It had th’ effect of strong magnesia.

12.

On Wisdom’s calm sequester’d seat,
Thou’st dared to rush with impious feet,
And there thou hast been fondly thieving
The heart that’s due to Madam Stephen[16].

13.

Now cease, oh Muse, thy too ambitious strain,
To count her charms thou still wouldst strive in vain,
Were you blest with the pen of the Bard of Fernay[17],
[Sidenote: _Quick time._]
Or the still keener wit of Sir Hanson Berney[18].

MOTLEY CONTENTS OF TWO NOTABLE VOLUMES.

When this same eccentric work was drawing very near to its conclusion, it was objected by a friend, that something more explanatory of the contents of each chapter than the motto prefixed, appeared to be necessary.

The Sexagenarian had himself already done this in numerous instances; the Editor has supplied the rest, and the reader will be at no loss to distinguish the hand of the master from the humble one of the copyist.

Transcriber’s Note: The references below are to the chapters of Vol. I.

CHAP. I. P. 1.

A Tale of a Tub.

CHAP. II. P. 8.

A Tendency to the Rhapsodical; or, Much ado about Nothing.

CHAP. III. P. 13.

A Friend in need is a Friend indeed, yet nothing but what might very well have happened.

CHAP. IV. P. 18.

Introduction to a rough Diamond, and experience for almost the first time of a rude trial.

CHAP. V. P. 26.

View of Terra Incognita—Abuses, absurdities, irregularities there prevalent.

CHAP. VI. P. 33.

Proves that Montaigne was probably in the right, when he observed, that “there should be some restraint of law against foolish and impertinent scribblers, as well as against vagabonds and idle persons.”

CHAP. VII. P. 38.

Of High Folks and Low Folks—Rich People and Poor People—with certain facts which demonstrate that splendid talents and profound knowledge are not limited to rank or station.

CHAP. VIII. P. 48.

Variety—as is the gardener such is the garden.
A wicked woman and an evil.
Is three halfpence worse than the evil.

CHAP. IX. P. 56.

’Tis true ’tis pity, pity ’tis, ’tis true.

First appearance of a really great man.

Sapiens, sibique imperiosus
Quem neque pauperies, neque mors, neque vincula terrent,
Responsare cupidinibus, contemnere honores.
Fortis et in seipso totus teres atque rotundus
Externi ne quid valeat per leve morari
In quem manca ruit semper Fortuna.

CHAP. X. P. 64.

Great merit greatly rewarded.

’Tis a rare fortune (says Montaigne) but of inestimable solace, to have a worthy man, one of a sound judgment, and of manners conformable to your own, who takes delight to be in your company.

CHAP. XI. P. 71.

Shakespeare’s words true—

There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune.

CHAP. XII. P. 75.

Brings to mind honest Joe Miller. A Bishop in one of his visitations noticed a fine healthy chubby boy playing in the church-yard. His Lordship chucked him under the chin, and asked him of what trade he should like to be. A Bishop, replied the boy. A very good trade, returned the Bishop, provided you can set up for yourself, when you are out of your time.

CHAP. XIII. P. 80.

Introduction to a physician, to whom what Cicero, in one of his letters to Atticus, has observed of his favourite physician Alexion, may be truly applied by all who knew him. Cicero is communicating to his friend the news of Alexion’s death.

O factum male de Alexione! Incredibile est quantâ me molestiâ
affecerit, nec mehercule ex ea parte maxime quod plerique
mecum: ad quem igitur te medicum conferes? Quid mihi jam
medico? aut si opus est tanta inopia est? Amorem erga me,
humanitatem suavitatemque desidero.

CHAP. XIV. P. 84.

Treats of a certain personage who despised the good old proverb,

Nunquam enim tacuisse nocet, nocet esse locutum.

In other words,

If a word be worth one shekel, silence is worth two.

CHAP. XV. P. 92.

Professes to be unintelligible to the Editor. The author might have in mind a saying of the Jews:

Thy secret is thy prisoner; if thou let it go, thou art a
prisoner to it.

CHAP. XVI. P. 96.

Silly enough—First Love soon cured.

The cheese was soft, and the hook would not stick in it; a proof of the adage, that

Prosperity is very hard to bear.

CHAP. XVII. P. 102.

_Wellborn_—No liquor! nor no credit!

_Tapwell_—None Sir. Your dead father,
My quondam master, was a man of worship,
But he dying,
And the twelve hundred a-year coming to you,
Late Mr. Francis, now forlorn Wellborn,
You had a merry time of ’t; hawks and hounds,
With choice of running horses, mistresses,
And other such extravagances.
Your lands gone, and your credit not worth a token,
You grew the common borrower; no man escaped
Your paper pellets,—I in time
May rise to be overseer of the poor,
Which if I do, on your petition Wellborn,
I may allow you thirteen pence a quarter.

CHAP. XVIII. P. 107.

The good effects of method exemplified, with a serious warning against being entangled in law-suits, which “catch flies, and let hornets go free.”

CHAP. XIX. P. 113.

The misery of one false step—a modern Messalina.—“She first made love in private as is the common use, but bringing her business about with too much ease, she soon scorned that way, and presently fell to making open love.”

CHAP. XX. P. 118.

Concessa pudet ire via.—Least said soonest mended.—Early prejudices not easily forsaken.

CHAP. XXI. P. 123.

A very interesting and amiable character—
Who would not sing for Lycidas?

CHAP. XXII. P. 131.

Fortune’s favours not always ill bestowed.

Sœpius Pol ipse fingit fortunam sibi.

CHAP. XXIII. P. 136.

A very whimsical, but most improbable collection of “Supposes.”

“If he be Cæsar, let him boldly think himself the greatest captain in the world.”

“Presumption is divided into two parts: the one in setting too great a value upon ourselves, and the other in setting too little a value upon others.”

CHAP. XXIV. P. 141.

The reader is introduced to a phœnomenon of a very different kind from the Comet which blazed and scorched in the last chapter.

CHAP. XXV. P. 147.

A Blue Stocking Dame of the very highest order, yclept Huniades.—“Her humour as fantastic as her diet. Nothing that is English must come near her. All her delight is in foreign impertinencies. She’s for any thing that comes from beyond sea. She must have some decayed persons of quality about her, for the Commons of England are the strangest creatures.”

CHAP. XXVI. P. 154.

A young gentleman born to nothing,
Forty marks a-year, which I call nothing,
Enough now to buy a Barony.
Present him with a chair,
The best attendance—the best drink—sometimes
Two glasses of Canary—
The purest air, and the sharpest knife.

CHAP. XXVII. P. 157.

Proves the old Erasmian adage—Mus non uni fidit antro.

CHAP. XXVIII. P. 164.

The world is (says Montaigne) a school of inquisition. It is not who shall carry the ring, but who shall run the best courses.

CHAP. XXIX. P. 168.

A new path opened in the pilgrimage of life—Beggars must not be choosers—rather rhapsodical in parts. An old saw exemplified, “Chi ha amor nel petto ha le sprone ne i franchi.” Aliter.

He who has love in his breast has spurs in his side.

CHAP. XXX. P. 173.

The tear my Laura sheds is true,
For seldom shall she hear a tale
So sad, so tender, and so true.

CHAP. XXXI. P. 180.

Fox-hunting parsons not always coarse, rude, or illiterate. Men of elegant birth, education, and accomplishments, not always polished in their manners, or attractive in their outward appearance.

CHAP. XXXII. P. 189.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear,
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness in the desert air.

CHAP. XXXIII. P. 194.

Miles Romane, Ægyptum cave, say the Sybilline books. There are who apply the phrase to Pompey alone, who lost his life by trusting himself in Egypt. Its better interpretation seems to be, that the effeminacy and luxury of this enervating country was likely to prove pernicious to the Roman veterans, accustomed to hard fare, and rigid discipline; and in this sense, may be applied to the arrival for the first time of any inexperienced young man in the English metropolis.

CHAP. XXXIV. P. 199.

A new Dramatis Persona introduced upon the stage, who in his time subsequently proved the Roscius of his day. No preternatural appearances marked the infancy of Porson, though it is told of Roscius, that when in his cradle, his nurse discovered a serpent twined round his bosom, which of course induced the Haruspices to foretell, nihil illo puero clarius, nihil nobilius fere.

CHAP. XXXV. P. 204.

CHAP. XXXVI. P. 211.

CHAP. XXXVII. P. 219.

CHAP. XXXVIII. P. 228.

CHAP. XXXIX. P. 236.

On the same subject. “I knew him well Horatio.”

CHAP. XL. P. 245.

Wherein is demonstrated the truth of the proverb,

“Qui cum sapientibus versatur, sapiens erit,”

as well as that saying among the Jews,

If I had not lifted up the stone, you would not have found the
jewel.

CHAP. XLI. P. 257.

A modern Gracchus.

See Gifford’s Juvenal, p. 38, note.

The Gracchi were brothers, nobly descended, and virtuously educated, but unfortunately too ambitious. Cæsars in short born near a century before their time. They proposed an Agrarian law (Spencean) and to get it passed, struck at the root of that liberty of which they professed themselves the champions, conceiving, perhaps, with other hasty reformers, that the end justified the means. They were murdered with every circumstance of barbarity; Tiberius G. in the midst of his followers, by Scipio Nasica, and Caius G. some time after, by a mob more powerful and more profligate than his own. The hero of this chapter died miserably in banishment at Botany Bay, a just victim to the offended laws of his country.

CHAP. XLII. P. 266.

The subject of this chapter is well explained by an old Greek ceremony. It was the custom at Athens to introduce at the marriage ceremony a boy who was covered with prickly branches, and the common acorn, and carrying in his hand baskets full of bread; he was taught to exclaim, εφυγον κακον, ευρον αμεινον, as much as to say, I have exchanged the bad, that is, thorns and acorns, for good, or in other words, for bread. Nor is it less to the purpose to add, that these also were the terms used by those who were initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries—εφυγον κακον, ευρον αμεινον.

CHAP. XLIII. P. 275.

The same subject continued.

“There could be no great ones if there were no little.”

CHAP. XLIV. P. 282.

The same subject.

Familiar Epistles.

By the way, it is an error to call Cicero’s Epistles, Familiar Epistles. Epistolæ ad familiares, has a distinct meaning.

CHAP. XLV. P. 296.

A really great man.

With a fair wind how steadily and cheerily the vessel scuds along. It is not easy to estimate the value of the help of Theseus; did he not assist Meleager in the destruction of the Caledonian boar? What, without his aid, could Perithous have done in his battle with the Centaurs, or Hercules in his contest with the Amazons?

CHAP. XLVI. P. 307.

Virgil tells us that Jupiter was so indignant with Esculapius for restoring Hippolitus to life, that he struck him dead with his thunder.

Nam Pater Omnipotens aliquem indignatus ab umbris
Mortalem infernis ad lumina surgere vitæ,
Ipse repertorem medicinæ iratus et artis
Flumine Phœbeginam Stygias detrusit ad undas.

What rare punishments would he not have devised for the accomplished individuals here recapitulated.

CHAP. XLVII. P. 315.

The same subject.

The first personage who is here introduced might exclaim,

Laborum (morborum)
Nulla mihi nova nunc facies inopinaque surgit
Omnia præcepi atque animo mecum ante peregi.

Of the rest, of all of whom it is well known how much their skill and experience have contributed to sooth and soften the calamities of their contemporaries, it is impossible not to be a little out of humour with that surly old fellow, Cato the Censor. Till his time the Romans knew nothing of physicians or physic. They were introduced when he was in office, and after a trial banished at his interposition. Here (says the veteran) have I lived to be fourscore and five, and here too is my wife in extreme old age, and we neither of us ever had or wanted physician or physic. Let them go about their business.

CHAP. XLVIII. P. 324.

To this part of the work, and to this, and some of the subsequent chapters, the title of one of the comedies of Aristophanes might not unaptly be applied, viz. The Ecclesiazuræ, or Women assembling themselves together. Here they will be found assembled of all ages, ranks, conditions, and talents, in almost every variety of that various sex: Widows, Matrons, Virgins, Philosophers, Politicians, and Poets. The Sexagenarian was a well-known advocate for the sex, the reader must not therefore expect any of those hard, wicked, and abusive adages about them, such as the three greatest evils, are Fire, Water, Woman. There are three things which are good for nothing without much beating, a walnut-tree, an ass, and a woman. A man of straw is worth a woman of gold. Three women and a goose make a market. Fie on such vile slanderers!!!—No! no! different opinions will be found here: the maxim here prevalent is, that there is no paradise without women, and that England is the paradise of women. But here a paradox occurs. There is no country in which women have so much influence, nor any language which contains such numerous and abusive reproaches upon women as our own.

CHAP. XLIX. P. 334.

Striking contrasts to the Portrait exhibited in the former chapter.

CHAP. L. P. 339.

The same subject, with a representation of similar virtues exemplified in such trials,

As may startle well but not astound
The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended
By a strong siding champion Conscience.

CHAP. LI. P. 344.

Might not she who is concisely characterized in this chapter have exclaimed,

Mortals that would follow me,
Love Virtue, she alone is free;
She can teach you how to climb
Higher than the sphery chime;
Or if Virtue feeble were,
Heaven itself would stoop to her.

CHAP. LII. P. 348.

That same Mr. Pope, who was an arch slanderer of the sex, impudently says, that most women have no characters at all. Here we are introduced to a lady who appears to have combined almost every character in one. A Philosopher, and at the same time obedient to the first impulse of the passions. A writer on the subject of education, and yet violating in her own person the ties of moral obligation, as established in society. An advocate for the best principles that can direct the human heart, and a slave to the worst. Some of the sages of old held that the body of woman was formed by the good, and her mind by the evil Principle. Such heretical doctrines will find no advocates here, although the chapter and character before us may bring them to remembrance.

CHAP. LIII. P. 357.

The reader will here be reminded of the story of Narcissus, so prettily told by Ovid in the third book of his Metamorphoses, and more particularly of his soliloquy on contemplating his own image in the fountain. The lady whose portrait is given in the chapter which precedes, and she who is here first introduced, may be supposed to address to one another the following words of Narcissus, having been as it were, μια ψυχη.

Cum risi arrides, lacrymas quoque sæpe notavi
Me lacrymante tuas, nurtu quoque signa remittes—
In te ego sum, sensi—
Nunc duo concordes anima moriemur in una.

Nay, it is not quite impossible, but as it is an observation of one of the old commentators upon Plato, that “Furicus Triplex indissolubilis est,” but that the third lady also may exult at being considered as one of the honourable fraternity.

Hoc est quod dicitur illud
Fraternum vere dulce sodalitium.

CHAP. LIV. P. 368.

CHAP. LV. P. 376.

CHAP. LVI. P. 378.

These three chapters contain ample matter for a modern novel, at least of three volumes. It would be easy to introduce a few episodes of great, and proud, and unfeeling relations, of prospects blighted, hopes disappointed, ambition marred, and so forth, and many a circulating library would be made to rejoice. The only objection seems to be, that what is here related, is true. There actually was a female so various, so eccentric, and yet so lovely. A doughty candidate for a generalship as fantastical, as conceited, and as amorous; a poet, so characterized by ingenious frenzy; relations as proud, as stupid and as unfeeling, with under Dramatis Personæ of corresponding peculiarities.

CHAP. LVII. P. 385.

The ancients had some very perverse and out of the way phrases about women. They would sometimes talk of a Chalcidian wife, which is variously interpreted, as meaning a very prolific wife, or as applying to one who is the cause of much contention and animosity. They had also a saying of a Thessalian wife, which meant neither more nor less than a witch. They would also wickedly say, that a woman never did any thing in moderation, and that if she played at dice, she always threw worse or better than any body else. But of all their pithy sayings on this pithy subject, it is not easy to find one which will apply to the character here introduced. Terence may perhaps help us—“O pergin mulier esse.”

CHAP. LVIII. P. 389.

_Devil._—Master bid me not come without the proof. There’s Mr. Guzzle, the translator, never keeps me a minute, unless the poor gentleman happens to be fuddled.

_Author._—Why you little sooty, snivelling, diabolical puppy, is it not sufficient to be plagued with the stupidity of your absurd master, but I must be pestered with your impertinence.

_Devil._—Impertinence! Marry come up, I keep as good company as your worship every day in the year. There’s Mr. Clench, in Little Britain, does not think it beneath him to take part of a pot of porter with me, though he has wrote two volumes of lives in quarto, and has a folio a-coming out in numbers.

CHAP. LIX. P. 395.

A female introduced who cares for no man, but boasts that her protectors are Title-page the publisher, Vamp the bookseller, and Index the printer. A most noble triumvirate!

CHAP. LX. P. 400.

Is aught so fair
In all the dewy landscapes of the Spring,
In the bright eye of Hesper in the morn,
In Nature’s fairest forms is aught so fair
As Virtue’s friendship.

More sublime
The queen-like partner moved; the prime of age
Composed her steps; the presence of a god,
High on the circle of her brow enthroned,
From each majestic motion darted awe,
Devoted awe!

CHAP. LXI. P. 406.

The quotation above is intended to comprehend the subject of this chapter also.

The parties may be conceived as addressing one another in the words of Plautus.

Certe ego quod te amo, operam nusquam melius potui ponere,
Bene igitur ratio accepte atque expensi inter nos convenit
Tu me amas—ego tu amo; merito id fieri uterque existumat
Hæc qui gaudent, gaudeant perpetuo suo semper bono.

CHAP. LXII. P. 410.

“That little which is good fills the trencher.”

CHAP. LXIII. P. 412.

Moliere ⸺ furnishes us with a very apt motto for the portrait here delineated.

Que du nom de savante on honore en tous lieux,
Fachez ainsi que moi de vous montrer sa fille
Aspirez aux chartes qui sont dans la famille,
Et vous rendez sensible aux charmantes douceurs,
Que l’amour de l’etude epanches—dans les cœurs;
Loin d’etre aux loix d’un homme en esclave asservie,
Mariez vous, ma sœur a la philosophie,
Qui nous monte au-dessus de tout le genre-humain,
Et donne a la raison l’Empire Suverain.

CHAP. LXIV. P. 416.

Ambo florentes ætatibus. Arcades ambo
Et certare pares et respondere paretiæ.

By the way it may be asked, as a sort of desultory question, at what period did these same Arcadians redeem their character? In primitive times, they were considered as a mighty stupid people, celebrated, as they afterwards became, as poets. Athenæus tells us, that they despised music, and refused to receive the art among them. Lucian also, in his Treatise on Astrology, relates that they were the only people who refused and despised it, and professed themselves to be of greater antiquity than the moon.

The Tragi-Comedy of the Fœminæ Concurientes, or women assembling themselves together, here concludes.

CHAP. LXV. P. 421.

Of the venerable personage here depicted, it may be truly said, that he

Sinks to the grave by unperceived decay,
While resignation gently slopes the way,
And all his prospects brightning to the last,
His heaven commences ere this world be past.

CHAP. LXVI. P. 427.

“As one who destin’d, from his friends to part,
Regrets his loss, yet hopes again, erewhile
To share their converse, and enjoy their smile,
And tempers, as he may, affliction’s dart.
Thus loved associates,
Teachers of wisdom,
I now resign you, nor with fainting heart,
For pass a few short years, or days, or hours,
And happier seasons, may their dawn unfold,
And all your sacred fellowship restore,
When freed from earth, unlimited its powers,
Mind, shall with mind, direct communion hold,
And kindred spirits, meet to part no more.”

POSTSCRIPT.

It will not perhaps be a very easy matter, at this period of the work, to recall the mind of the reader from fiction to reality, and to persuade him of the melancholy truth, that THE SEXAGENARIAN IS NOW NO MORE. The circumstances attending this event are of an interesting, almost even of an awful nature. To engage the attention more deeply in his narrative, and to relieve it of the egotism attached to self-biography, the Sexagenarian had adopted the third person instead of the first in many parts of the work. He had supposed that after his death a friend had discovered a number of scattered materials, from which these volumes were to be formed, and had so supplied the connecting links as to make the history complete. In adopting this plan, he was enabled to give the narrative many little lively turns, which the natural playfulness of his mind suggested. In this manner he had proceeded, sustaining the character of himself and his friend, within a few pages of the conclusion of his work, and had even corrected the press down to the present sheet. Little perhaps did he think how prophetic was his plan, and that on his own death-bed he should in reality entrust to a friend that office, which in fiction he had supposed to have been committed to his care. To present these Memoirs to the world, and explain the peculiar circumstances under which they are published, was the dying request of the Sexagenarian to one who knew and who valued his worth. He had scarcely entered upon his sixtieth year, and had just entitled himself to the appellation which in his work he had assumed, when he was suddenly called from an existence of much bodily pain and suffering. His life had been chequered by various events both of a prosperous and of an adverse nature. In the paths of literature his exertions had been attended with the most gratifying success. He had moved in the first circles of life; he had been fostered by the great, and rewarded by the good. No man, perhaps, of his age, possessed larger or more varied resources of curious and entertaining scholarship. In literary anecdote, he was rich and fertile; in neat and appropriate citations, he was unrivalled. His conversation was easy, elegant, and communicative; and no scholar could leave his company without an addition to his stock of knowledge. As a friend, he was respected and beloved; among his acquaintance, indeed, his good-humour was almost proverbial. His open and generous nature was too often a dupe to the treacherous, and a prey to the designing. His latter days were spent in retirement from those busy scenes, in which he had formerly borne a conspicuous part. In the last two years of his life, he amused himself with the composition of the preceding Memoirs, which display an extensive knowledge of the events and the characters of a former day. Many of the personages there described, like the hand which records them, are now in the dust, and have left their name only and their memories behind.

Would the reader enquire the end of the Sexagenarian; would he know how a life so spent was concluded; let him be assured, that his last hours were those of a good and pious man; that he departed in the same faith and fear in which he had lived. And happy will he be, who, after a life so actively and so usefully employed, shall repose upon a death-bed so calm, and so Christian, as that of the SEXAGENARIAN.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Pergræcari means to spend the day and night in drinking.

[2] Here is an hiatus in our manuscript.

[3] “Tranquillity.” See the tale called “Bathmendi,” in Popular Tales.

[4] Emendat. in Ciceronis Tusc. Quæst. iv. 21.

[5] Judges.

[6] A scurrilous Ballad, entitled _Christmas Gambols_.

[7] Edward Bacon, Esq. Member for Norwich.

[8] Sir Armine Wodehouse, Bart.

[9] The Rev. Mr. Brand.

[10] Alluding to a ball at the Duchess of Beaufort’s, at which Miss C. assisted, and to which her Grace invited no young men, for fear they should captivate the heart of Lady Eliz. Compton.

[11] Mr. Fanshaw, of the Guards.

[12] The Rev. Dr. Brooke.

[13] Lady J⸺’s old butler.

[14] John Lombe, Esq. of Melton.

[15] Mr. Hamond Alpe, of Fransham.

[16] A piece of scandal on Mr. Leonard Buxton, of Easton.

[17] The celebrated Voltaire.

[18] Sir H. B. of Kirby, Bart.