And would laugh like a man that was mad,
When over a good flowing bowl.
As long as his cellar was stor'd,
The liquor he'd merrily quaff,
And when he was drunk as a lord
At those that were sober he'd laugh.

IV.

Copernicus too like the rest,
Believ'd there was wisdom in wine,
And thought that a cup of the best
Made reason the better to shine.
With wine he'd replenish his veins,
And make his philosophy reel,
Then fancy'd the world, like his brains,
Turn'd round like a chariot wheel.

V.

Aristotle, that master of arts,
Had been but a dunce without wine,
And what we ascribe to his parts,
Is due to the juice of the vine.
His belly most writers agree,
Was as big as a watering-trough,
He therefore leap'd into the sea,
Because he'd have liquor enough.

VI.

Old Plato, that learned divine,
He fondly to wisdom was prone,
But had it not been for good wine,
His merits had never been known;
By wine we are generous made,
It furnishes fancy with wings,
Without it we ne'er shou'd have had
Philosophers, poets, or kings.

Thirdly and lastly, I wish in Chap. XXIII. in your answer to the
objection, "That one cannot trust a man that gets drunk," you had been
pleased to have taken notice of the taciturnity and continency of the
right worshipful the free masons in this respect. For though otherwise
they are _free_ enough of speech, yet I do assure you, as to secrets,
though some of them love the creature very heartily, and carouse
abundantly, yet has it never been known, though never so fuddled, (for
free masons will get fuddled,) that they ever discovered any of their
secrets. This is irresistible, irrefragable, irrefutable, or if you
will, to speak (_norunt dialectici_) _in stylo infinito_,
non-resistible, non-refragable, and non-refutable, and, indeed, is my
_Argumentum palmare Scotisticum_.

But, and Fourthly also, and Finally, you will give me leave to remark to
you, That in relation to St. Boniface's cup, which you take notice of in
Chap. XI. p. 68, l. 13, I do assure you, sir, the practice was some
years ago, to my certain knowledge, much in vogue, (and, as I am
credibly informed, is still wonderfully catholic,) and, by the bye,
take the following relation.

In the beginning of the last wars, when I was very young, I had the
misfortune to be prisoner in Luxembourg, and not too civilly treated by
the governor, the