Sir Robert. I am very well, I thank you, if you mean that—Mr. Florid, this is Mr. Quicksett.
Florid. The warmth of my Affections, Sir Robert, gives an instantaneous glow to my Spirits, and I behold your Friend with Congenial Feelings, and all the Impulse of Sympathetic Raptures. Sir, your most Obedient.
Quicksett. Sir, your Servant—I am a plain spoken Man, lookye, downright, and honest—my intended Son-in-Law, I find has been under your Care. I should be glad to hear from you that he has taken up a little, and sowed his wild Oats, as I may say.
Florid. Dear Sir, such an alteration was never known. The Senses in general, Sir, have been wrongly confin'd to the five Classes of External Senses—there are, Sir, in Human Nature many other Inlets of Perception—there is the Public Sense—the Private Sense—the Sense of Honor—the Moral Sense—the Internal Sense—
Quicksett. Ay, but has he common Sense?
Florid. The Sensus Communis, or the Public Sense is the same thing. Now Sir, there is an amazing Connexion between the Organs of Bodily Sensation, and the Faculties of Moral Perception, and there are certain Powers in Human Nature—which seem to be Intermediate—
Quicksett. Sir Robert, I don't rightly comprehend this.
Florid. Those Intermediate Powers have been stiled in general the Powers of Imagination, which do not seem to have given him an ardent propensity to the Mimetic Arts—but his faculties of moral perception have given him the To Prepon, the Kalogathia of the Greeks, Honestum of the Latins, the Sympathetic Regularity, the Responsive Harmony—
Quicksett. Odds, my life, I had as soon be at a Foxchase without ever seeing the Dogs, as hear all this without understanding a Word.
Sir Robert. Mr. Florid, my Friend Quicksett is like myself a plain spoken Man—cou'd not you tell him now in plain English that the Boy is reform'd?