entence of the whole. Whether such things are or are not
the intentions of the Baron the reader must judge.

We have had not only wonderful travellers in this vile world, but
splenetic travellers, and of these not a few, and also conspicuous
enough. It is a pity, therefore, that the Baron has not endeavoured to
surpass them also in this species of story-telling. Who is it can read
the travels of Smellfungus, as Sterne calls him, without admiration?
To think that a person from the North of Scotland should travel through
some of the finest countries in Europe, and find fault with everything
he meets--nothing to please him! And therefore, methinks, the Tour to
the Hebrides is more excusable, and also perhaps Mr. Twiss's Tour in
Ireland. Dr. Johnson, bred in the luxuriance of London, with more reason
should become cross and splenetic in the bleak and dreary regions of the
Hebrides.

The Baron, in the following work, seems to be sometimes philosophical;
his account of the language of the interior of Africa, and its analogy
with that of the inhabitants of the moon, show him to be profoundly
versed in the etymological antiquities of nations, and throw new light
upon the abstruse history of the ancient Scythians, and the Collectanea.

His endeavour to abolish the custom of eating live flesh in the interior
of Africa, as described in Bruce's Travels, is truly humane. But far be
it from me to suppose, that by Gog and Magog and the Lord Mayor's show
he means a satire upon any person or body of persons whatever: or, by
a tedious litigated trial of blind judges and dumb matrons following
a wild goose chase all round the world, he should glance at any trial
whatever.

Nevertheless, I must allow that it was extremely presumptuous in
Munchausen to tell half the sovereigns of the world that they were
wrong, and advise them what they ought to do; and that instead of
ordering millions of their subjects to massacre one another, it would be
more to their interest to employ their forces in concert for the general
good; as if he knew better than the Empress of Russia, the Grand Vizier,
Prince Potemkin, or any other butcher in the world. But that he should
be a royal Aristocrat, and take the part of the injured Queen of France
in the present political drama, I am not at all surprised; but I suppose
his mind was fired by reading the pamphlet written by Mr. Burke.

CHAPTER XXI

_The Baron insists on the veracity of his former Memoirs--