The victim of mirth, imprudence, and care.
Where’er he is gone, his companions he’ll smoke,
For, cost what it will—he will have his joke.
“‘I knew him well, Horatio!’” exclaims our Author—“‘a fellow of infinite jest!’—Chairman of the St. Alban’s Club, where oft ‘he set the table on a roar.’—And who did not know this eccentric oddity? Gower had considerable talents, but they were directed every way but the right. He made medicine a plaything, never being steady in professional pursuits. He wrote several singular books: one he entitled ‘Auxiliaries to Medicine;’ another, ‘The Art of Painting;’ both of which pourtray the character of their author. His unsteadiness led him into difficulties, and he died in obscurity.”
“DALMAHOY.
‘Thrice happy were those golden days of old,
When dear as burgundy p’tisans were sold.’
“Dalmahoy sold infusions and lotions,
Decoctions, and gargles, and pills;
Electuaries, powders, and potions,