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The fev'rish fool thus having said,
Rising with hectic cough in bed;

Pulls loud the bell-in John doth steal,
And to his master takes the meal;

When, lo, to cure this sick man's croaking,
A roast duck stuff'd appears quite smoking.

Astonish'd at so strange a sight,

And wond'ring at his appetite;

The friend exclaims, "Why, this is fuel!"
"To quench thy fever, take some gruel;"
"Pshaw!" cries the fool," "tis vain entreating,
"I'll rather die than quit good eating."

A week transpires, the sick fool's worse,
The knocker's ty'd, he's got a nurse;
Another comes, his situation

Demands physicians' consultation:

A third ensues, there ends all scoffing,
He's safe 'screw'd up in sable coffin.*

* There is another folly, which, when opposed to that at present under consideration, is no less ridiculous. It consists in placing too much reliance on physical aid; a very curious instance of which is related by the French histo

X

L'ENVOY OF THE POET.

Why, if advice thou wilt not heed,
Need'st thou for a physician send?
If thou wilt act thyself the deed,

The doctor can't prolong thine end.

rians, in the person of the savage Lewis XI. who, while he inflicted tortures on hundreds, was himself even more afflicted; for we are informed, that he was so much the slave of one Jacques Coctier, his physician, that he suffered at his hands the most insolent and threatening language; conceiving that his life was solely preserved to him by the skill he professed; and Jacques Coctier, on such occasions, would increase the horrors of the monarch, by exclaiming― "Je sçais que vous me donnerez mon congé, comme vous l'avez donné a d'autres;" then, rolling his eyes and swearing, he would add, "mais vous ne vivrez pas huit jours apres." Upon which, the king would humbly crave mercy, and submit to any degradation. But at this conduct of Coctier to his sovereign we need not be surprised, when we are told by Gaguin, in his Latin history, that the wretch did not scruple to order as remedies for his royal patient, the warm blood of infants to drink, as well as to bathe in. That the reader, however, may learn the consummate folly of this monarch, in its full extent, it is necessary to add, that when he found the powers of medicine fail, Al mal mortale né medicar, nè medècina vale, he sent for a very pious hermit,

THE POET'S CHORUS TO FOOLS.

Come, trim the boat, row on each Rara Avis,
Crowds flock to man my Stultifera Navis.

called Francois Martotille, whom he received with as much ceremony as if he had been the sovereign Pontiff, and to this pious old man he prostrated himself to earth, supplicating by promises and gifts that he would intercede with Heaven, to grant him a prolongation of existence; but Martotille being too honest to profit by this foolery of the king, exhorted him, on the contrary, rather to think of the world to come, than the present state of existence; which advice was far from the monarch's wish, who therefore dismissed the hermit, and as a dernier resort, being wrought upon by superstitious timidity, he literally caused various relics of saints to be arranged around his bed (which were not only brought from different parts of his own dominions, but procured at an enormous expense from Rome and Constantinople) by means of which, he conceived, that the approach of death would be barred from him. It is merely necessary to add, that the punition Lewis XI. thus experienced, seemed but a manifestation of the just vengeance of Omnipotence, for the sanguinary proceedings which characterized the reign of that monarch.

SECTION L.

OF FOOLS THAT WILLINGLY PUT THEMSELVES IN THE WAY OF PERIL.

Idemens! et sævas curre per Alpes,

Ut pueris placeas et declamatio fias.

Or sportsmen I've already spoken,

Whose limbs and necks so oft are broken;
But now behold the buck quite dashing,
Who down fam'd Bond Street must be splashing;
On boot high perch'd the palm to win,
With four blood horses half broke in.

For fame as knight o'the whip thus striving,
Through ranks close hemm'd of coaches driving;
His furious steeds each moment whipping,
And all competitors outstripping;

Is all his aim, and that each stranger,
May see him, fool-like, dare all danger.*

* It is certain that though the rashest actions have at times been crowned with success, they are but few in num

If racing, that the fool may win it,
He'd fain go one mile in the minute;

For which he urges, spurs, and whips,
In hopes to vie with fam'd Eclipse;
And striving still to gallop faster,

Down drops the racer with his master.

ber, when compared with the destructive termination which has in general accompanied this species of folly.-Charles the Twelfth, of Sweden, proved himself a rash fool, in opposing the whole army of the Turks at Bender, when he had but a few followers; nor was there more real bravery in his conduct than was displayed some years back, by the fool who walked round the iron balustrade which appears at the summit of the monument; for in both cases, the same fact will hold good, viz. had the Swedish monarch been shot, no one would have pitied his fate, but branded him with the well earned appellation of fool; and, in like manner, if the idiot who sported himself on the rail of the monument, had been precipitated to the bottom, there would have been but one opinion-That his foolhardiness well merited its punishment. Such being the fact, let all rash men, ere they undertake an action, consider only what will be the derision of mankind, if they fail, and that simple interrogatory will at once instruct them, whether or no their conduct is sanctioned by the dictates of reason, common sense, and prudence, for the latter requisite is as absolutely essential to real courage, as any other.

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