It behoves the publick to keep him quiet; for his frequent murmurs are a certain sign of intestine tumults.
No philosopher ever lamented more the luxury, for which these nations are so justly taxed; it has been known to cost him tears of blood (7): for in his own nature he is far from being profuse; though indeed he never stays a night at a gentleman's house, without leaving something behind him.
He receives with great submission whatever his patrons think fit to give him; and when they lay heavy burdens upon him, which is frequently enough, he gets rid of them as soon as he can; but not without some labour, and much grumbling.
He is a perpetual hanger on; yet nobody knows how to be without him. He patiently suffers himself to be kept under, but loves to be well used, and in that case will sacrifice his vitals to give you ease: and he has hardly one acquaintance, for whom he has not been bound; yet, as far as we can find, was never known to lose any thing by it.
He is observed to be very unquiet in the company of a Frenchman in new clothes, or a young coquette. (8)
He is, in short, the subject of much mirth and raillery, which he seems to take well enough; though it has not been observed, that ever any good thing came from himself.
There is so general an opinion of his justice, that sometimes very hard cases are left to his decision: and while he sits upon them, he carries himself exactly even between both sides, except where some knotty point arises; and then he is observed to lean
a little
