of yours?’ ‘Very likely, my lord (replied my uncle); the Blackberry is the fruit of the Bramble. But, I believe, the bishop is not a berry of our bush.’ ‘No more he is, no more he is, ha, ha, ha! (exclaimed the duke) there you gave me a scratch, good Mr. Bramble, ha, ha, ha!—Well, I shall be glad to see you at Lincoln’s- inn-fields. You know the way. Times are altered. Though I have lost the power, I retain the inclination. Your very humble servant, good Mr. Blackberry.’ So saying, he shoved to another corner of the room. ‘What a fine old gentleman! (cried Mr. Barton) what spirits! what a memory! He never forgets an old friend.’ ’He does me too much honour (observed our ’squire), to rank me among the number. Whilst I sat in parliament, I never voted with the ministry but three times, when my conscience told me they were in the right: however, if he still keeps levee, I will carry my nephew thither, that he may see, and learn to avoid the scene; for, I think, an English gentleman never appears to such disadvantage, as at the levee of a minister. Of his grace I shall say nothing at present, but that for thirty years he was the constant and common butt of ridicule and execration. He was generally laughed at as an ape in politics, whose office and influence served only to render his folly the more notorious; and the opposition cursed him, as the indefatigable drudge of a first-mover, who was justly styled and stigmatized as the father of corruption: but this ridiculous ape, this venal drudge, no sooner lost the places he was so ill qualified to fill, and unfurled the banners of faction, than he was metamorphosed into a pattern of public virtue; the very people who reviled him before, now extolled him to the skies, as a wise, experienced statesman, chief pillar of the Protestant succession, and corner stone of English liberty. I should be glad to know how Mr. Barton reconciles these contradictions, without obliging us to resign all title to the privilege of common sense.’ ’My dear sir (answered Barton), I don’t pretend to justify the extravagations of the multitude; who, I suppose, were as wild in their former censure, as in their present praise: but I shall be very glad to attend you on Thursday next to his grace’s levee; where, I’m afraid, we shall not be crowded with company; for, you know, there’s a wide difference between his present office of president of the council, and his former post of first lord commissioner of the treasury.’

This communicative friend having announced all the remarkable characters of both sexes, that appeared at court, we resolved to adjourn and retired. At the foot of the stair-case, there was a crowd of lacqueys and chairmen, and in the midst of them stood Humphry Clinker, exalted upon a stool, with his hat in one hand, and a paper in the other, in the act of holding forth to the people. Before we could inquire into the meaning of this exhibition, he perceived his master, thrust the paper into his pocket, descended from his elevation, bolted through the crowd, and brought up the carriage to the gate.

My uncle said nothing till we were seated, when, after having looked at me earnestly for some time, he burst out a-laughing, and asked if I knew upon what subject Clinker was holding forth to the mob. ‘If (said he) the fellow is turned mountebank, I must turn him out of my service, otherwise he’ll make Merry Andrews of us all.’ I observed, that, in all probability, he had studied medicine under his master, who was a farrier.

At dinner, the ’squire asked him, if he had ever practiced physic? ‘Yes, an please your honour (said he), among brute beasts; but I never meddle with rational creatures.’ ‘I know not whether you rank in that class the audience you was haranguing in the court at St. James’s, but I should be glad to know what kind of powders you was distributing; and whether you had a good sale.’ ‘Sale, sir! (cried Clinker) I hope I shall never be base enough to sell for gold and silver, what freely comes of God’s grace. I distributed nothing, an like your honour, but a word of advice to my fellows in servitude and sin.’ ‘Advice! concerning what?’ ‘Concerning profane swearing, an please your honour; so horrid and shocking, that it made my hair stand on end.’ ‘Nay, if thou can’st cure them of that disease, I shall think thee a wonderful doctor indeed.’ ‘Why not cure them, my good master? the hearts of those poor people are not so stubborn as your honour seems to think. Make them first sensible that you have nothing in view but their good, then they will listen with patience, and easily be convinced of the sin and folly of a practice that affords neither profit nor pleasure.’ At this remark, our uncle changed colour, and looked round the company, conscious that his own withers were not altogether unwrung. ‘But, Clinker (said he), if you should have eloquence enough to persuade the vulgar, to resign those tropes and figures of rhetoric, there will be little or nothing left to distinguish their conversation from that of their betters.’ ‘But then your honour