mances. How many are
there whose whole Reputation depends upon a Punn or a Quibble? You may
often see an Artist in the Streets gain a Circle of Admirers, by
carrying a long Pole upon his Chin or Forehead in a perpendicular
Posture. Ambition has taught some to write with their Feet, and others
to walk upon their Hands. Some tumble into Fame, others grow immortal by
throwing themselves through a Hoop.

'Caetera de genere hoc adeo sunt multa, loquacem
Delassare valent Fabium--'

I am led into this Train of Thought by an Adventure I lately met with.

I was the other Day at a Tavern, where the Master of the House [1]
accommodating us himself with every thing we wanted, I accidentally fell
into a Discourse with him; and talking of a certain great Man, who shall
be nameless, he told me, That he had sometimes the Honour _to treat him
with a Whistle_; (adding by the way of Parenthesis) _For you must know,
Gentlemen, that I whistle the best of any Man in_ Europe. This naturally
put me upon desiring him to give us a Sample of his Art; upon which he
called for a Case-Knife, and applying the Edge of it to his Mouth,
converted it into a musical Instrument, and entertained me with an
_Italian_ Solo. Upon laying down the Knife, he took up a Pair of clean
Tobacco Pipes; and after having slid the small End of them over the
Table in a most melodious Trill, he fetched a Tune out of them,
whistling to them at the same time in Consort. In short, the
Tobacco-Pipes became _Musical Pipes_ in the Hands of our Virtuoso; who
confessed to me ingenuously, he had broke such Quantities of them, that
he had almost broke himself, before he had brought this Piece of Musick
to any tolerable Perfection. I then told him I would bring a Company of
Friends to dine with him the next Week, as an Encouragement to his
Ingenuity; upon which he thanked me, saying, That he would provide
himself with a new Frying-Pan against that Day. I replied, That it was
no matter; Roast and Boiled would serve our Turn. He smiled at my
Simplicity, and told me, That it was his Design to give us a Tune upon
it. As I was surprised at such a Promise, he sent for an old Frying-Pan,
and grating it upon the Board, whistled to it in such a melodious
Manner, that you could scarce distinguish it from a Base-Viol. He then
took his Seat with us at the Table, and hearing my Friend that was with
me humm over a Tune to himself, he told him if he would sing out he
would accompany his Voice