_Echo._ Ah fool! _Gl._ I do not like this abstinence. _Echo._ Hence. _Gl._ My joy's a feast, my wish is wine. _Echo._ Swine! _Gl._ We epicures are happie truly. _Echo._ You lie. _Gl._ Who's that which giveth me the lie? _Echo._ I. _Gl._ What? Echo, thou that mock'st a voice? _Echo._ A voice. _Gl._ May I not, Echo, eat my fill? _Echo._ Ill. {52} _Gl._ Will't hurt me if I drink too much? _Echo._ Much. _Gl._ Thou Mock'st me, Nymph; I'll not believe it. _Echo._ Believe't. _Gl._ Dost thou condemn then what I do? _Echo._ I do. _Gl._ I grant it doth exhaust the purse. _Echo._ Worse. _Gl._ Is't this which dulls the sharpest wit? _Echo._ Best wit. _Gl._ Is't this which brings infirmities? _Echo._ It is. _Gl._ Whither will't bring my soul? canst tell? _Echo._ T' hell. _Gl._ Dost thou no gluttons virtuous know? _Echo._ No. _Gl._ Wouldst have me temperate till I die? _Echo._ I. _Gl._ Shall I therein finde ease and pleasure? _Echo._ Yea sure. _Gl._ But is't a thing which profit brings? _Echo._ It brings. _Gl._ To minde or bodie? or to both? _Echo._ To both. _Gl._ Will it my life on earth prolong? _Echo._ O long! _Gl._ Will it make me vigorous until death? _Echo._ Till death. _Gl._ Will't bring me to eternall blisse? _Echo._ Yes. _Gl._ Then, sweetest Temperance, I'll love thee. _Echo._ I love thee. _Gl._ Then, swinish Gluttonie, I'll leave thee. _Echo._ I'll leave thee. _Gl._ I'll be a belly god no more. _Echo._ No more. _Gl._ If all be true which thou dost tell, They who fare sparingly fare well. _Echo._ Farewell. "S. J." "_Hygiasticon_: or the right Course of preserving Life and Health unto extream old Age: together with soundnesse and integritie of the Senses, Judgement, and Memorie. Written in Latine by Leonard Lessius, and now done into English. 24mo. Cambridge, 1634." I send the above poem, and title of the work it is copied from, in the hope it may interest those of your correspondents who have lately been turning their attention to this style of composition. H. B. Warwick. * * * * * AMBIGUITY IN PUBLIC WRITING.