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CROTCHET CASTLE.
jaws of the lion. I am fitting up a flotilla of pleasure-boats, with spacious cabins, and a good cellar, to carry a choice philosophical party up the Thames and Severn, into the Ellesmere canal, where we shall be among the mountains of North Wales; which we may climb or not, as we think proper; but we will, at any rate, keep our floating hotel well provisioned, and we will try to settle all the questions over which a shadow of doubt yet hangs in the world of philosophy.
MR. FIREDAMP.
Out of my great friendship for you, I will certainly go; but I do not expect to survive the experiment.
THE REV. DR. FOLLIOTT.
Alter erit tum Tiphys, et altera quæ vehat Argo Delectos Heroas.[1] I will be of the
