If there be any thing in these passages tending to show a slight degree of interest in the sex, their tendency will perhaps be fully neutralized by Hume's exultation on the fortunate nature of his own happy indifference, in a letter to Oswald, which will be found a few pages [farther] on. It must be confessed, indeed, that, according to all appearance, the appellation, more expressive than classical, frequently used on such occasions, is applicable to Hume, and that he was a "sad indifferent dog."
To return to the verses.—The following is a specimen of a totally different cast; and, if less ambitious in its pretensions, it will probably be thought to have
more successfully accomplished what it aims at. It is called "An Epistle to Mr. John Medina," a son of Sir John Medina, the celebrated painter, to whom, probably from the habits hinted at in the verses, he was a far inferior artist. He is believed to have been the painter of a large portion of the very numerous extant portraits of Queen Mary. It would be difficult at this day to discover the individual whom he is here called upon to portray, with attributes about as grotesque as those of his inexplicable countryman, Aiken Drum. As several names of persons who were active supporters of the measures of social economy, and the agricultural improvements alluded to in the verses, might be adduced, but no one can be named to whom they appear distinctly and exclusively to apply, it may be less invidious to present them in the form of a purely imaginative picture, than to associate them with any name.
AN EPISTLE TO MR. JOHN MEDINA.
Now, dear Medina, honest John,
Since all your former friends are gone,
And even Macgibbon 's turn'd a saint,[234:1]
You now perhaps have time to paint.
For you, and for your pencil fit,
The subject shall be full of wit.