146 Letter from Dr. Thornton to Mr. Tillocft. 



also theirs, the whole merit would have been exclusive?!/ 

 their own. As it is, the reviewer, in his eagerness to ruin 

 me in the public estimation, without possessing, as he de- 

 clares, one jot of " malice*," has again here also exposed 

 either his ignorance or folly; and, fearful that the phw 

 losophic world would not credit such an unjust attack in a 

 work professing Arthur Aikin's name as editor, I will put 

 down the very words of this most extraordinary reviewer. 

 After highly praising in general the botanical plates, he 

 goes on : 



" But when Dr. Thornton claims a share of the fame, 

 we are reminded of a farce, which in our play agoing days 

 afforded its much amusement. It is called, if we mi stake 

 not, A Peep behind the Curtain, and is written on the plan 

 of the duke of Buckingham's celebrated dramatic satire* Its 

 plot turns on the rehearsal of a musical piece, founded on the 

 story of Orpheus and Eurydice, in which some cows are to 

 be introduced dancing to the lyre of the antient bard. When 

 every thing else is ready, the cows are wanting, and the 

 prompter is dispatched in haste to inquire the reason of the 

 delay. IVe quote from memory ; and, after a lapse of thirty 

 years, will not vouch for more than the general spirit of 

 the dialogue. (( The author," cries the trusty messenger, 

 out of breath, ce is impatient to see Ms cows; he relies much 

 on them for the success of Ms piece.'* " His coivs!" replies 

 the indignant maker, " they are my cows : I know that his 

 play will be nothing without them; and I will have him to 

 know that, vain as he is, he shall not run away with the 

 glory of the carpenter f ."// / 



I have the honour to remain, sir, 

 With much esteem and gratitude, 



Your obliged faithful servant, 

 Robert John Thornton. 



* Die! the story of the immense common-place book show no malice? 

 cr the following,—" Sed ohe : jam satis est. 'The patience of the public: 

 must be soon exhausted. As to ourselves, we have not a drop left. Never 

 were lavish promises more scantily realized. His work is, indeed, little 

 more than a piece of shreds and patches clumsily sritched together with 

 coarse packthread; find, instead of a national honour y may more justly be 

 deemed a national disgrace." The impartial public will soon perceive 

 where the national disgrace lies. 



f What will the philosophic world think of n reviewer, who publicly 

 tells us that wooden cows dancing to a lyre gave him great amusement in 

 his voun^er days, and who gravely represents the dialogue which was 

 held by a messenger out of breathy and a carpenter of wooden cows, as re- 

 levant to my work. > Ase my added marks of astonishment misplaced? 



fcXVIL On 



