sia and the empress of Russia,
and the nabob of Arcot, and the king of the Hottentots, are all in
the Protestant interest; they make a diversion upon all the Cham
of Tartary's back setlements; then Sir Guy Carleton comes with a
_circumbendibus_, and retakes all the islands, Rhode Island and all; and
takes 'em _here_ and _there_, and _there_ and _here_, and _every where_.
There is the whole affair explained at once to you."

This is the head of a Proud Man: all heads in that predicament are
unsound. This man was rich; and as wealth is a certain hot-bed to raise
flatterers, he had enough of them; they told him he was every thing; he
believed them, and always spoke in the first person, saying, I, I,
I--I will have it so; I know it;--I, I--which puts one in mind of a
school-boy toning out before his mistress's knees, I by itself I. Yet
there is one piece of pride which may be thought excusable; and {97}that
is, that honest exultation of heart which every public performer feels
from the approbation of his auditors; gratefully does he acknowledge
their indulgence, and with sincerity declares that the utmost exertion
of his abilities can never equal the favour of the public.

By way of Epilogue, here are two wigs. [_Takes two wigs._] This is
called the full-buckled bob, and carries a consequentially along with
it: it is worn by those people who frequent city feasts, and gorge
themselves at a Lord-Mayor's-show dinner; and, with one of these wigs
on, their double chins rested upon their breasts, and their shoulders
up, they seem as if they had eaten themselves into a {98}state of
indigestion, or else had bumpered themselves out of breath with bottled
beer. [_Puts on the wig._] "Waiter! bring me a ladleful of soup. You
dog, don't take off that haunch of venison yet!--Bring me the lamb, a
glass of currant jelly, and a clean plate. A hob-nob, sir." "With all
my heart." "Two bumpers of Madeira!--Love, health, and ready rhino, to
all the friends that you and I know."--On the contrary, these lank looks
form the half-famished face. [_Puts on the Methodist hair, and takes the
tub._]

The floor of the world is filthy, the mud of Mammon eats up all your
upper leathers, and we are all become sad soals. Brethren, (the word
brethren comes from the tabernacle, because we {99}all breathe therein),
if you are drowsy I'll rouse you, I'll beat a tattoo upon the parchment
case of your conscience, and I'll whisk the devil like a whirligig among