Not having Creech's Horace, a gentleman prevailed on me to attempt translating it in a couple of distichs; the science, which the compound English and Greek word signifies, little concerns a widower; but I should be glad to see it improved by good proficients in the Ionick jig. I own, in my little reading, I never met with this word, which puts me in mind of a passage on the Thames. My younger uncle, the grave Mr. Flower, his wife and mine, and parson Dingle, one day made the tour of the city: we saw Bedlam, the lions, and what not; and finished with a view of that noble engine under London Bridge: then we took water for Whitehall; rowed very silently to opposite the glasshouse, where a dyer, his boat at anchor, was angling; poor Jack unfortunately asked, addressing himself to our waterman, What that man was fishing for? The wag answered very brisk, For , master, will you buy any? You are a man of too much humour not to be pleased with the reply. I never can think of it without a laugh; and am sure need not describe the scene to you. He is since called in our family by the name of Jack Fisher.
From the Duke of Queensberry's, in Burlington Gardens, March 18, 1728-9.
DEAR SIR,
I HAVE writ to you several times; and having heard nothing from you, makes me fear my letters
are