If a word be worth one shekel, silence is worth two. CHAP. XV. P. 92. Professes to be unintelligible to the Editor. The author might have in mind a saying of the Jews: Thy secret is thy prisoner; if thou let it go, thou art a prisoner to it. CHAP. XVI. P. 96. Silly enough—First Love soon cured. The cheese was soft, and the hook would not stick in it; a proof of the adage, that Prosperity is very hard to bear. CHAP. XVII. P. 102. _Wellborn_—No liquor! nor no credit! _Tapwell_—None Sir. Your dead father, My quondam master, was a man of worship, But he dying, And the twelve hundred a-year coming to you, Late Mr. Francis, now forlorn Wellborn, You had a merry time of ’t; hawks and hounds, With choice of running horses, mistresses, And other such extravagances. Your lands gone, and your credit not worth a token, You grew the common borrower; no man escaped Your paper pellets,—I in time May rise to be overseer of the poor, Which if I do, on your petition Wellborn, I may allow you thirteen pence a quarter. CHAP. XVIII. P. 107. The good effects of method exemplified, with a serious warning against being entangled in law-suits, which “catch flies, and let hornets go free.” CHAP. XIX. P. 113. The misery of one false step—a modern Messalina.—“She first made love in private as is the common use, but bringing her business about with too much ease, she soon scorned that way, and presently fell to making open love.” CHAP. XX. P. 118. Concessa pudet ire via.—Least said soonest mended.—Early prejudices not easily forsaken. CHAP. XXI. P. 123. A very interesting and amiable character— Who would not sing for Lycidas? CHAP. XXII. P. 131. Fortune’s favours not always ill bestowed. Sœpius Pol ipse fingit fortunam sibi. CHAP. XXIII. P. 136. A very whimsical, but most improbable collection of “Supposes.” “If he be Cæsar, let him boldly think himself the greatest captain in the world.” “Presumption is divided into two parts: the one in setting too great a value upon ourselves, and the other in setting too little a value upon others.” CHAP. XXIV. P. 141. The reader is introduced to a phœnomenon of a very different kind from the Comet which blazed and scorched in the last chapter. CHAP. XXV. P. 147. A Blue Stocking Dame of the very highest order, yclept Huniades.—“Her humour as fantastic as her diet. Nothing that is English must come near her. All her delight is in foreign impertinencies. She’s for any thing that comes from beyond sea. She must have some decayed persons of quality about her, for the Commons of England are the strangest creatures.” CHAP. XXVI. P. 154.