“I understand it perfectly,” observed Louisa, with a smile of satisfaction.
“I need scarcely say,” continued Mr. Seymour, “that there are some niceties in the adjustment of the minuter parts of the apparatus, without which the effect could not be accomplished; the quantity of quicksilver, for instance, must bear its proper proportion to the weight and dimensions of the figure: and in order to prevent its too rapid passage along the inclined tubes, strings are stretched across their interior to retard the stream. Then, again, some management is necessary with regard to the silken strings, in order to ensure a necessary degree of tension. I will now show you,” said he, “a single tumbler, which will perform the same motions without the assistance of any tubes.”
“But not without quicksilver,” observed Tom, “which, I suppose, must, in this case, be put into the body of the figure.”
“You are quite right; and it is made to pass from one extremity of its body to the other through a small orifice, which has the same effect as the strings in the tubes, in breaking the current and preventing its too rapid motion. In all other respects, the principle is the same as in the double figures.”
Just as Mr. Seymour had terminated his exhibition of ‘Le petit Culbuteur,’ the welcome appearance of the vicar infused fresh spirits into the little party.
“My dear friends,” said Mr. Twaddleton, “I have been most provokingly detained by that tiresome etymologist Jeffrey Prybabel. I made many efforts to escape, but I was as a fly in a cobweb.”
“He is the greatest bore in all Christendom; I knew him well,” observed Mr. Seymour, “when he practised as a Conveyancer in Gray’s-Inn, and went by the nickname of the Riot Act; for, in such horror was he held, that, if a number of persons were congregated, his approach was sure to disperse them. But what has been the subject of your discourse?--was the etymologist merely airing his vocabulary, or did he propose some difficult question for discussion? Be this, however, as it may, I will venture to say that he was, as usual, loquacious on the subject of mutes--dry on the use of liquids, and descanting without end on the importance of a termination?”
“Mr. Seymour, I am really and truly ashamed of you; punning, under any circumstances, is a most disgraceful habit, but when employed to distort the meaning of language it becomes absolutely criminal.”
To turn the subject of this discourse, the vicar proceeded to inform Mr. Seymour that he had no sooner escaped from the fangs of Prybabel than he encountered Polyphemus. Our readers may, perhaps, wonder who this Polyphemus could have been; we must, therefore, inform them that Mr. Twaddleton, whose ideas were always tinctured with classical colouring, had bestowed this appellation upon the renowned Dr. Doseall, the Esculapius of Overton, because, as he said, his practice was like the Cyclops, strong but blind; and Mr. Seymour declared that the similitude was even more perfect than the vicar had contemplated, for he observed that he certainly fattened upon the unhappy victims who fell within his clutches.
With all our respect for the liberality of Mr. Seymour and the kind-heartedness of the vicar, we must, in justice to this respectable son of Apollo, express our disapprobation at so unprovoked a sarcasm. We acknowledge that Dr. Doseall, by the aid of low bows and high charges--of little ailments and large potions, had contrived to secure a very comfortable balance on the creditor side of his worldly ledger. We also admit, that after the example of other celebrated physicians, he had one sovereign remedy, which he administered in every disease. But what of that? he was often successful in his cures--that is to say, his patients sometimes recovered after they had taken his physic; and is not that the test conventionally received in proof of the skill or ignorance of greater physicians than Dr. Doseall? Nor can we persuade ourselves into the belief, that a doctor who faithfully adheres to one single remedy, is less likely to be right than those restless spirits who are eternally coquetting with all the preparations of the Pharmacopœia without ever remaining steady to any one of them. It has been truly remarked, that the clock which stands still and points steadfastly in one direction, is certain of being right twice in the twenty-four hours, while others may keep going continually, and as continually going wrong. Being ourselves no doctors, we merely throw out this hint for the consideration of those who are learned in such matters: but we beg pardon of our readers for this digression.