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This man was called Kuaser. (Ears accustomed to the musical Greek names must pardon our Gothic appellations.) He was so clever, that no question could be proposed which he was not able to resolve: he traversed the whole world teaching mankind wisdom. But his merits exciting envy, two Dwarfs treacherously slew him; and receiving his blood into a vessel, mixed it up with honey, and thence composed a liquor, which renders all those that drink of it, Poets[1]. The Gods missing their son, enquired of the Dwarfs what was become of him. The Dwarfs, to extricate themselves out of the difficulty, replied, That Kuaser had died, suffocated with his knowlege, because he could not meet with persons to ease and disembogue his mind to, by proposing to him so many learned questions as was necessary to his relief. But their perfidy was afterward discovered by an unexpected accident. These Dwarfs having drawn upon themselves the resentment of a certain Giant, he seized and exposed them upon a rock surrounded on all fides by the sea. In this frightful situation, their only recourse was to purchase their deliverance
- ↑ It is probable, that by the blood of this wise man blended with honey, was meant that union of reason or good sense, with the sweeter embellishments of sentiment and language, so essential to the perfection of true Poetry.
