came affable and jocoſe, and talked of love and wine with ſo much glee, that you would have ſuppoſed the hoary Teian bard had come to life again in the diſguiſe of an hermit. He renewed the old hymn in praiſe of Venus and Bacchus; an hymn which, in ſome form or other, has been in vogue ever ſince the grape was firſt preſſed and maidens firſt kiſſed. After he had handed to his foſter-ſon a full bumper, who had honeſtly pledged him, he confidentially addreſſed him in theſe words: ‘My ſon, lay thine hand on thine heart, and give me an anſwer to one queſtion; but take care thy heart do not prove knaviſh and cheat thee: guard thy tongue alſo, that no falſe word glide over it, elſe will the lie ſtain thy tongue black, even as the pot over the fire is blackened by the ſoot. Tell me then truly and without deceit, has love of woman ever entered thy heart, has the glow of deſire warmed thy boſom; or
