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.