ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 59 



needs exhume its bitter roots, wherewith to feed 

 their melancholy! 



Hackle. Your satire, Doctor, is wickedly over- 

 charged : There be fires and faces merry as ever, 

 in our free, glad homes hearts light and innocent, 

 that need not the goading impulse of strong drinks 

 in order to stir them up that call not to aid the 

 blands of novelty, but are alway buoyant, alvvay in 

 time to joyous measures. 



Swivel. I know it, Hackle ; but over their cups 

 men are no hypocrites. See the wariest of them 

 reveal themselves ; they betray their characters, and 

 open up their schemes ; they let out the issues of 

 frail humanity ! Here it was that Shakspeare took 

 lessons in the study of mankind ; here true philoso- 

 phy is taught, and not in abstract spheres, in grave, 

 solemn circles, nor in wildernesses, nor in garrets. 

 Over the cup, my boys, more glorious things have 

 been uttered than are written in immortal books ; 

 the walls of the senate-house have been put to 

 shame by the eloquence displayed in corners at the 

 feast-table ! Yet, mark me, Hackle, I cry not up 

 the drunkard who extinguishes reason ; I cry not 

 up that excessive indulgence, which takes the curb 

 off our passions, and allows an impress to the domi- 

 nant powers of darkness ; moderation, boys, mode- 

 ration in all things ! 



May. Eh ! Doctor, and thyself as the example, 

 most abstemious Swiveltop? By the bye, Gaff 

 yonder is sound asleep, and there is some inclina- 



