[115] Of Henley's absurdities we have heard much; but they had their source in an adoption of that manner which he knew would be agreeable to his auditors, rather than in ignorance. The following circumstance proves he was a man of some humour:-- "I never," says a person who knew little about the doctor, "saw Orator Henley but once, and that was at the Grecian Coffeehouse, where a gentleman he was acquainted with coming in, and seating himself in the same box, the following dialogue passed between them:-- _Henley._ "Pray what is become of our old friend Dick Smith? I have not seen him for several years." _Gentleman._ "I really don't know. The last time I heard of him he was at Ceylon, or some of our settlements in the West Indies." _Henley_ (_with some surprise_). "At Ceylon, or some of our settlements in the West Indies! My good sir, in _one_ sentence there are _two_ mistakes. Ceylon is not one of _our_ settlements, it belongs to the Dutch; and it is situated, not in the West, but in the East Indies." _Gentleman_ (_with some heat_). "That I deny!" _Henley._ "More shame for you! I will engage to bring a boy of eight years of age who will confute you." _Gentleman_ (_in a cooler tone of voice_). "Well,--be it where it will, I thank God I know very little about these sort of things." _Henley._ "What, you thank God for your ignorance, do you?" _Gentleman_ (_in a violent rage_). "I do, sir. What then?" _Henley._ "Sir, you have a great deal to be thankful for." [116] These lines are from Banckes' _Poems_, p. 87, in which a contracted copy of the print is placed as the headpiece of an epistle to the painter. This good gentleman, with true poetic vanity, pathetically exclaims, "Alas! that pictures should decay; That words alone can wit convey: But words remain--Oh, may this verse Remain, etc. etc." Little did this rival of Stephen Duck imagine that the _words_ "which alone can wit convey," would not have preserved his two volumes from the trunkmaker, to whom every verse had been long since consigned, had not this little print, and another copy from the same artist, sometimes induced a collector to purchase the volumes. The concluding lines of his poem are not, however, so contemptible: "In vain we ransack Rome and Greece To match this Conversation piece; In vain our follies would advance The names of Italy and France; Labour and art elsewere we see, But native humour strong in thee; In thee--but parallels are vain, A great original remain. Go on to lash our reigning crimes, And live the censor of the times." [117] I once heard a freemason observe, that this droning disciple of Morpheus, and the heavy politician on the opposite side, were the Jachin and Boaz of the lodge.