I wish, Mr. Printer, that all fuch inftrument-makers may find themselves equally well paid in their own coin. I affure you my endeavours for that end fhall always be exerted when any fuch tricks are played with me; and I would recommend it to all, who, as honeft and fober men, cannot but deteft the above practice, to adopt the fame refolution. It may teach those ingenious gentlemen to be more cautious how they make free with things which are not their own; and which, though perhaps intrinfically of no great price, have ufually a confiderable imaginary or ideal value fet on them by the owner, who probably may not be able to please his fancy or fuit his conveniency fo well again, especially if he lives at a diftance from any capital fhop. No pretence of cuftom can be a fufficient juftification of fuch a practice; for a ridiculous or mischievous cultom is the law of fools.

Anfwer, by J. Hannaford, of Ashburton, to Taffo's Queflion, inferted August 18.

x2+x+y+x++x3y=x; and 80÷40=2; therefore x =2; confequently y is eafily found 3.

Anfwer, by G. Bulgen, of Caftle-Cary, to his own enigmatical Lift of English Authors, inferted April 21.

Anfwer, by J. S. of Shepton Mallet, to J. Dunkerton's Rebus, infertea duguft 11.

RIENDSHIP, fair goddefs! facred wifdom's child!
Celeftial virgin! both benign and mild!

Thou balm of life! thou fource of harmlefs mirth
Thou greateft bleffing that we have on earth!
Thy nature's fuch, that when the dreadful flame
This world destroys, thou'lt ftill remain the fame,
Thy virtues too;-for thy refplendent ray,
Shall give a luftre to the realms of day.

2 T 2

Will We

We have received the like anfwer from Taffo, of Briftol; and a Conftant Reader.

Anfwer, by a Conftant Reader, to Tafso's Rebus, inferted Auguft 25,

Proud conveyance is a car;

Proud is care of war;

TH is half of Thor, a god;

And age

is known in this abode.

Thefe, rightly join'd, without a doubt,

Will make the name of CARTHAGE out,

*g* We have received the like answer from J. S. of Shepton Mallet.

Anfwer, in a Rebus, by J. S. of Shepton-Mallet, to J. Hodge's Enigma, inferted May 5.

T

Scythian prophet firft of all declare,

A Who on an arrow glided through the air;

A princefs who did fon's age reftore,
And him whofe wife king David did adore;
Next, him who was made conful under age,
And took and burnt the city of Carthage;
The maker of the Trojan horse, too, bring;
And him who was the laft Athenian king;
A valiant veteran who is juftly fam'd,
And is the British Salamander nam'd!
A fon of Saturn you must now present,
Who ruleth o'er the briny element;
Bold Hector's brother finally explain,
Who was at Troy by great Achilles flain.

Find out the initials, and combine them right,
And then you'll bring the mystery to light.

A QUESTION, by J. Quant, of Hinton St. George.

HERE is a meadow near Hinton in form of a plain rec tangle triangle, one fide whereof is equal to 1000 yards,

and

and the fum of both the fides, when fquared and added toge ther, is equal to 17056 yards. It is required to find two angles, and the content, and to fhew the investigation of the fame.

Our Correfpondents who fend us queftions, anagrams, rebuffes, paradoxes, enigmas, answers, &c. are defired to pay the postage of their letters; and those who do not, mußt not expect to see what they fend inferted.

POETRY.

On a VIRTUOUS MIND.

A

Virtuous mind's a conftant treafure,

A fource of inexhauftlets pleasure,

A mine of joys for ever growing,

A fpring of health that's always flowing.

Ah! happy he that doth command,
His fortune with a mighty hand;
Whom threat'ning ills, falfe pleafures find,
Safe centred in a conftant mind.

With thankful joy he views on fhore
The toffed bark, hears billows roar:
Not that he's pleas'd to fee diftrefs,
But glad to find his load is lefs.

Man loads himself with pain and care,
Works his own woe when heaven would spare ;
His av'rice, pride, and luft of power,
Bring on him many a joyless hour.

In vain we drudge, in vain we roam,
For true content, which is at home;
In our own mind the goddess lies,
And freely favours all who're wife.

Hence titles, honours, and estate !
The mind alone can make us great;
I beg of heav'n, with just defires,
What need, not luxury, requires.

335

The TULIP and BUTTERFLY: A FABLE,

66

TAIN, idle, empty, fluttering thing.

"Go to thy fav'rite rofe;

"Try not to reft thy gaudy wing,

"Nor feek on me repofe !

"Still must thou meet my highest scorn!
"Had I the power to wound
"Which lies within thy rofe's thorn,

Pierc'd, thou shouldft touch the ground.

"For never in my beauteous breast, "Vain emblem of a beau!

"Should't thou obtain a moment's rest,

"Or hide thee from a foe !"

Thus to the empty butterfly

The emptier tulip cry'd :

Stung to the quick he rais'd him high,
And warmly thus reply'd :

"Where fhall the beau e'er feek repose,
"But in the gaudier belle ?

So