The works of Mr. Thomas Brown, serious and comical : in prose and verse, with his remains in four volumes compleat; vol. IIBrown, Thomas
General
The works of Mr. Thomas Brown, serious and comical : in prose and verse, with his remains in four volumes compleat; vol. II
Brown, Thomas
English wit and humor -- Early works to 1800; Erotic literature -- Early works to 1800; Latin literature -- Translations into English
in in the town knows him; ask but for the Barber and his nineteen
daughters, and you cannot miss of him.
Having thus laid the scene, I took my leave, and adjourn’d about the
business of the day, and coming from _Montague_’s shop three or four
days afterwards, I stepp’d into the same coffee-house, where I happen’d
to meet with the spiritual pastor just coming to town, who had been
erring and straying like a lost sheep in quest of _Tonsor in nubibus_.
As soon as ever he set eyes upon me, he attack’d me tooth and nail, with
as much fury as if I had been brother to the _Whore of Baylon_, and told
me I was some _Papist_, or otherwise a _Fanatick_, or else I would have
had more religion in me, than to have made a fool of a man of his
function, for that he had taken a journey on purpose to _Chelmsford_,
and could find no such barber. Pray, Sir, said I, don’t be so angry, for
since I never gave ear to your preaching, why should you listen to my
prating? and since you make fools of a whole parish every sunday, how
can you be so angry with a man to make a fool of you once in his life
time? so turn’d my back, and left the whole company to laugh at him.
You must know I love dearly to put a jest upon a priest, because it was
always my opinion, they put more jests upon the world than any people;
besides, any body may put a trick upon a block-head, but that conduces
but little to a man’s reputation. I love to put my jokes upon men of
parts, that the world may see I can bite the biter; nothing carries the
burthen of another man’s wit with a greater grace, than a sacerdotal
dromedary; therefore to let you see the wonderful regard I bear to
religion, I have one story, or piece of wit more to entertain you with,
that I hope may further divert you.
I chanc’d to be in company with a parcel of grave sermon-hunters, and
among a long catalogue of reverend orators, whose name should bring up
the rear of the eminent _Black-List_, but my honest neighbour the
dean’s? I took not their flattery for my example, but gave my tongue the
liberty to speak as I thought, and said, he was a learned blockhead;
some of my good friends had the civility to report my saying to him.
Upon which, he sent the reader of the parish to admonish me, who came
one morning very solemnly to my chamber, and took upon him to tell me
how dishonourably and unchristian-like I had done, in aspersing the
doctor with the calumny of being a learned blockhead. Truly, Sir, said
I, I am sorry I should be so unmannerly to express my sentiments so
freely: but however, since it is done and can’t be help’d, I desire you
will go back and tell him it’s more than I can say by you, for thou art
a blockhead without any learning at all, and a fit man to be sent upon
such errands. Upon this answer he lugg’d his hat over his eyes, and ran
away as sullen and as silent as the devil pinch’d by the nose did from
St. _Dunstan_, when the old gentleman had loosen’d his barnacles.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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