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ROM the courts above a visitor
Hither come I, an inquisitor
Not in philosophic stole,

But the dress of English Droll.
For in that memorable year
When Mercury turn'd auctioneer,

2

| An Eleatic Philosopher, of Abdera in Thrace. Born 513; died 404, B. C.

? In the “ Sale of Philosophers,” as described by Lucian, the heads of the different sects are brought to the hammer, Mercury being the auctioneer. Pythagoras fetches ten Minæ, Diogenes, with his rags and cynicism, two obols— he may do for a house-dog! Aristippus (the founder of the Cyrenaic sect) is too fine a gentleman for any body to venture on. Democritus and Heraclitus are alike unsaleable. Socrates, with whom Lucian seems to confound the Platonic philosophy, after being well ridiculed and abused, is bought by Dion, of Syracuse, for the large sum of two talents. Epicurus produces two Minæ. Chrysippus, the

B

Putting up for sale a number
Of rare wits, like household lumber!
Many of the wisest sconces
Did not fetch the price of dunce's,
And for laugher's and for cryer's :
There were neither bidders, buyers !
Knowing not in London town
If for philosophic crown
Up the market was or down,
But believing that a Vice
Always brings a liberal price !
Motley is the name I bear,
Motley is the coat I wear.

stoic, who gives some extraordinary specimens of his logic, and for whom there is a great competition, is knocked down for twelve Minæ. A peripatetic, or double person, (exoteric and esoteric) with his physical knowledge, brings twenty Minæ. Pyrrho, the sceptic, comes at last, who after having been disposed of, and in the hands of the buyer, is still in doubt whether he has been sold or not!

3 A Philosopher of Ephesus, founder of a sect named after himself. Flourished from 500 to 425, B. C. + “Once more, Democritus, arise on earth,

With cheerful wisdom and instructive mirth,
See motley life in modern trappings dress’d,
And feed with varied fools th' eternal jest.”

Dr. Johnson. • How the Sage was rewarded will be seen by the following extract from an autograph letter (in the possession of Uncle Timothy) written by the excellent and learned Elizabeth Carter to Miss Highmore, dated April 23, 1752.

“I extremely honour the just indignation you express

Invited," I before had come,
But that I should, abash'd and dumb,
Have from your Sage received the shell
He struck so wisely and so well !
When in of Greece the early age
I strutted, fretted on life's stage
The character to me assign’d
Puzzled the Athenian mind.
For in my brain the civic train
Suspecting something not quite sane,
Forced Hippocrates their fees on
To set once more right my reason.
Sitting in my quiet cottage,

at the cold reception which has been given by a stupid, trifling, ungrateful world to the RAMBLER. You may conclude by my calling names in this courageous manner, that I am as zealous in the cause of this excellent paper as yourself. But we may both comfort ourselves that an author who has employed the noblest powers of genius and learning, the strongest force of understanding, the most beautiful ornaments of eloquence in the service of Virtue and Religion can never sink into oblivion, however he may be at present too little regarded.”

6 “Me, poor man! my library Was dukedom large enough.” Uncle Timothy had been thinking of the nest-like little domicile of Democritus when he wrote the following

Wish.

One of those neat quiet nooks
That into a garden looks
Give me for myself and books,

Not exactly in my dotage !
No shrewish wife, no stupid kin,

And let it be
Where resounds the huntsman's horn,
Where wave fields of golden corn,
And the birds sing to the morn

Right merrily!
Let, each tuneless pause to fill,
Ripple nigh a murmuring rill,
And, O, music sweeter still!

From village spire
Glittering with celestial rays,
On returning holy-days
Call me forth to prayer and praise

A pealing choir!
Round the walls of my retreat,
Pictured, let the poets meet,
Whom to look upon is sweet,

And fondly mark
How, in each expressive face
(Tinged by joy or sorrow's grace)
We the mind immortal trace,

That heavenly spark !
Charm'd by fancy, taught by truth,
Ye were dear to me in sooth
In the green leaf of my youth!

Now in the sear,
Better known and understood,
Ye are still more wise, more good
Solacers of my solitude!

And doubly dear!

7 “Who, having claw'd or cuddled into bondage

The thing misnamed a husband—” Tobin.

No duns without, no quacks within,
I saw the learned leech elate

Ye have made (it else had been
A troubled sojourn !) life serene,
And strew'd my path (not always green!)

With fairest flow'rs,
Immortal blossoms of the mind
In beauty born, by taste refined,
Garlands gloriously entwined,

For lonely hours !
Freshen’d by the morning dews
Let a friend who loves the Muse
His well-temper'd wit infuse,

And tell the time
(Seated in my woodbine shade)
When we two together stray'd
Making vocal grove and glade

With wizard rhyme !
And having struck the balance fair
"Twixt what we are, and what we were,
And reckon'd how much cross and care

Our path beset,
With what strength (not ours) we've striven,
Can we hope to be forgiven
What we humbly owe to heaven

If we forget ?
The leaves of memory turning o'er,
Loved, lost companions we deplore;
Yet we shall meet, to part no more!

Let that content
'Till nearer still the prospect grows
Of the dark valley of repose,
And in the arms of death we close

A life well-spent.

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