AESOP, it seems, has been a little disturb'd of late, and it has been argu'd Pro & Con, amongst the Virtuosi, whether his Indisposition was the effect of Tun­bridge Waters, or Company. He him­self has absolv'd the Waters, and con­demn'd the Company, which has ob­lig'd 'em in their own Justification to send him to Bedlam to have his own [Page] Brains set right, for endeavouring to rectifie theirs.

Since his Retirement two more have started up from Bath and White-Hall, that, like the two Demetrius's in Muscovy, need only be seen to dis­cover the Imposture. But to avoid the Fate of their Predecessor of Tun­bridge, they have taken Measures very different from his, and to save Dr. Ty—n the trouble of Purging their Brains, have agreed to carry none about 'em.

Ʋpon these comes yet another; whether with better Title than the former, is a question, Reader, we leave thee to decide. Only I shall take the liberty to give thee some Hints, [Page] for the better Information of thy Judgment. First then as to his Per­son, it has resemblance enough to old Aesop's (or the Picture of him, at least, at Planudes, and others, have drawn it) that had he left any Legitimate Issue behind him, Ours might very well plead his Figure in evidence of his Descent from the old Beau of Samos; and the Posture and Condition of their Intellects, make out the Relation betwixt him and the Bully of Tunbridge. For this con­fesses himself out of his Wits when he writ, and t'other, by universal Consent, mad to Write what he writ.

But let me whisper one thing in thy Ear, upon condition of secresy, if thou wilt give me thy Word and [Page] Honour not to disclose it to any Bo­dy; I'll assure thee they were both Mad, and so much the fitter for the Task they have undertaken. For who the De—l but a Madman would venture to write Truth at this time of Day? To deal frankly, the Old Fel­low before 'em was much such another sort of Spark. He either had, or thought he had Wit, which is much at one to an Author, and could never leave shewing his Brains, till a par­cel of Blockheads knockt 'em out. He took his Hint from the Women of his Time, who did as they do now, every one that cou'd be convinc'd by her Glass, that she was no Beauty, set up for a Wit; and if she cou'd not please People with her Face, cou'd vex 'em with her Tongue, which was equiva­lent [Page] as to point of Self-satisfaction. For let either Vanity, or Malice be gratified, and we are well enough. But as I was saying, Aesop imitated the Women in that Piece of Cunning; for 'tis apparent he cou'd not the Men, for they haven't learnt that Craft yet to Piece out the Defects of their Persons with a Superfluity of Ʋnderstanding. But e'ery Hump­back't, Hard-fac'd Scarecrow is dress'd up in a Lac'd-Coat, and a Long Wig, to set off it's Deformi­ty, and make it more gloriously Ri­diculous; and the fine empty Thing, that Nature made, as the Chinese do their Bawbles, for the Ornament of a Drawing-Room, is perpetually endeavouring to squeeze it self into the Press, and labouring in Dull [Page] Madrigal, or Scurvy Lampoon, to expose it's own want of Wit, and it's Friend's, and not content with the Reputation of a Fool amongst its Acquaintance, must publish it in Print to the World.

But what's all this, Reader, to thee and I, that be sure have more Wit? These Aesop's are Perillous Bold Fellows, and have Plaguy Tongues: But what of that? Let the Beast that is gall'd, wince; and let thee and I laugh to see 'em kick and fling like Ralpho's Ass with a Thistle under his Tail, 'tis nothing to us, that have (as I said before) more Wit, than to come within the reach of one's Tongue, or t'others Heels: And so I take my leave of thee.