ions,--pray turn over a Page
or two to the black Law-Letters in the Romance.--What do you think of
them, Sir?--Nay,--pray read the Grant of the Great Watch-Coat and Trim's
Renunciation of the Breeches.--Why, there is downright Lease and Release
for you,--'tis the very Thing, Man;--only with this small Difference,--
and in which consists the whole Strength of the Panegyric, That the
Author of the Romance has convey'd and re-convey'd, in about ten Lines,
--what you, with the glorious Prolixity of the Law, could not have
crowded into as many Skins of Parchment.

The Apothecary, who had paid the Attorney, the same Afternoon, a Demand
of Three Pounds Six Shillings and Eight-Pence, for much such another
Jobb,--was so highly tickled with the Parson's Repartee in that
particular Point,--that he rubb'd his Hands together most fervently,--
and laugh'd most triumphantly thereupon.

This could not escape the Attorney's Notice, any more than the Cause of
it did escape his Penetration.

I think, Sir, says he, (dropping his Voice a Third) you might well have
spared this immoderate Mirth, since you and your Profession have the
least Reason to triumph here of any of us.--I beg, quoth he, that you
would reflect a Moment upon the Cob-Web which Trim went so far for, and
brought back with an Air of so much Importance, in his Breeches Pocket,
to lay upon the Parson's cut Finger.--This said Cob-Web, Sir, is a fine-
spun Satyre, upon the flimsy Nature of one Half of the Shop-Medicines,
with which you make a Property of the Sick, the Ignorant, and the
Unsuspecting.--And as for the Moral of the Close-Stool-Pan, Sir, 'tis
too plain, Does not nine Parts in ten of the whole Practice, and of all
you vend under its Colours, pass into and concenter in that one nasty
Utensil?--And let me tell you, Sir, says he, raising his Voice,--had not
your unseasonable Mirth blinded you, you might have seen that Trim's
carrying the Close-Stool-Pan upon his Head the whole Length of the Town,
without blushing, is a pointed Raillery,--and one of the sharpest
Sarcasms, Sir, that ever was thrown out upon you;--for it unveils the
solemn Impudence of the whole Profession, who, I see, are ashamed of
nothing which brings in Money.

There were two Apothecaries in the Club, besides the Surgeon mentioned
before, with a Chemist and an Undertaker, who all felt themselves
equally hurt and aggrieved by this discourteous Retort:--And they were
all five rising up together from t