Cold breaths of wind divide the joyning pair,
And the loft phantom vanishes to air.

Q. Gentlemen, I find you are very clear in your new tions of things, at least to my apprehension ; mbich incourag'd me to hope for a solution of the following question, viz. Whence is it that (non continues upon the Alps, when it is Jo hot on the plains belom ?

4. On the tops of high mountains, the fun beams are not reflected as they are in the valleys, by the sides of those bills which incompass them: besides the greater rarefaction of the atmosphere may be another reason, why the beams of the sun bave not so much power there, as being not so much concenter'd.

Q. What is the reason that winter (when she fun is nearer to us ) is colder than summer :

A. We take it to be this ; that the fun beams not fala ling fo perpendicular, but more obliquely, the reflected rays are more scatter'd and come not so ncar to those of incidence, and consequently are weaker ; which appears by the excessive heats that are felt between the tropicks, and the no less cold by the poles, and by our daily experience, that the sun hath more force in its meridian than at its rising or setting.

Q. Gentlemen, Lately difputing with a perfon of learning, web append to differ in our notions of true think ing, I desire therefore you will give me your opinion, what a true thought is, and when a thought may be faid 80 be just; and if it be not to ask too many favours, ar once, to give an instance out of any of the ancients of what you think a juft thought ?

4. Sir, thoughts are only the images of things, as words are the images of thoughts, and to think, in general, imports no more, than to form in one's felf the description of an object, represented to us; now these images and descriptions are true, when they are exactly conformable to their objects ; fo chata thought may be said to be true, when it represents a thing faithfully, and falfe when it makes it appear otherwise than it really is in its nature. thought can be just, true, or fine that is not natural,

B6

Now,

For no

Now, Sir, for your instance, we think we cannot give one more to the purpose than the following pigram on Dide.

Infelix Dido nulli bene nupta marito,

Hoc pereunte fugis, boc fugiente peris. Aufon. Q. I have with great industry applied my self to a certain affair for some time, but have met with so many disappointments

, that I have often refolu'd to throw it up, but my friends encourage me to pursue it, in expectation of a critical minute; let me intreat you to give a hint how This critical minute may be known? And it will oblige S. R.

A. Had you expected any assistance from the fo ciety, you ought to have been more particular in your cafe, for we think our proposals gave you no encouragement to believe we set up for divination, as well as answering questions. But fince you address us with so much modesty, we will for oncc endea. vour to oblige you, but withal desire you to remember, if we should fail

, it was only a game at Hazard and we happen'd to throw out.

Now, Sir, if the question depends upon rifing in the state, you must examine well your merit and qualifications, there being no critical minute, under this administration, where those are wanting.

If in the church, piety and a good life.

If in the army, zeal for your country, and a generous contempt of danger.

If success in law, or chancery, right reason, and the justice of your cause.

If with physicians, double fees.

But if, as 'tis highly probable, none of these are your case, and love at last should happen to be the question ; we advise you to continue your assiduity in visits, to be obliging in your conversation, genetous and open in your behaviour ; and then if she is a Lady worth your having, the God of love will interest himself in your behalf, and force her to confess her fatisfaction in every gesture; pleasure will fit fimiling in her countenance, and joy sparkle in her eyes.

When

When these symptoms appear, you may conclude that's the critical minute, which must crown your felicity:

Q. Gentlemen, Meeting with your proposals, wherein you tell the world you design to answer questions, I desire you will give me your opinion wby the men are so prone to inconftancy, and whether that desire of change be seated in the soul, or rather proceeds from a natural defect in the obje&t. In doing this you will oblige Orinda.

A. Madam, Our society resolve to pay a peculiar veneration to the fair sex, in whatever they fall think fic to communicate to us. We therefore with all deference give it as our opinion, that inconstancy, or desire of change, happens not so much from the mutability of objects, as from the mutation of the fenfitive soul it self, which is every mo. ment changing, by losing some of its particles, and imbibing new ones which it receives from the air we respire, and the food we take for our nourishrment. Insomuch that we find different sensations impreft upon us, even by the change of weather, or after the free use of generous liquors. And yet it is evidently true, that diversity of objects have the power to excite various passions in the sensitive soul, as they happen differently to frike upon it.

And common experience convinces us that if the foul is long entertain'd with one set of objects, it complains of a fatiety, being tir’d with the too often repeated shews of the same things. So that whatsoever is new takes off from that satiety we are too apt to complain of ; and that which recommends variety is, the soul's being every moment cali’d off to something new, and the attention not suffer'd co waste it self on any particular object.

Q. Why Valentine's a day to choose
A mistress

, and our freedom lose ?
May I my reason interpose,
The question with an answer close,
To imitate we have a mind,
And couple like the winged kind.
The sense of this you may foreclose,
And print it for your own in profe.

The

}

The answer use, if rightly guest,
And let me lay in other's nest ?

A. O mighty man of reason great ;
Whose fancy can sucb Wit create,
How many thanks must we advance, Sir,
For such a question and an answer !
But we'll rob no man of his merit,
You won the honoul pray, Sir, wear it.
Shou'd we pretend such fights to steal,
Our follies wou'd our crimes reyeal :
And since such learning you have Town,
We'll scorn to print it for our own :
Nor can we grant your last request,
For tho' you think your eggs the best,
Your young ones may beshit our neft.
: Q. Apollo, You being enter'd lift,

And very like to be bepift,
I fain would fee before you're wet,
What answer from you I can get.
I'd know, why he, that fellesh ale,
Hangs out a chequer'd part per pale :
And why a barber at port-hole,
Puts forth a party colour'd pole.
Now if in books you've read the cause on't,
With it oblige your hunble fervant.

A. Our querift by bis learned question,
(With such fine turns of fancy prest on)
Appears design’d to nick the brimmer,
And fet up for White-chapel trimmer;
And there for two pence to retail
A shaving, and a pot of ale :
So gravely judging, that he fou'd not,
In his own trade appear a woodcock,
And when his drink and shaving's donc,
Instead of pay be pift upon ;
To solve his doubt, wou'd us cajole,
Why he for polling fhews a pole ;
And how by checker 't does appear,
That part per pale sells ale and beer.

Thou

Thou trusty Trojan, spread thy cars,
Discharge thy doubts, dispell thy fears:
We'll tell thee what the reason was,
Or what might for the reason -pass ;
And that's all one, so wie we smatter,
Like thine, altho’ we miss the matter.

In ancient Rome when men lov'd fight ing
And wounds and scars took much delight in,
Man-menders then had noble pay,
Which we call furgeons to this day.
'Twas order'd that a huge long pole,
With bafon deck'd, fhoud grace the hole,
To guide the wounded, who unlopt,
Cou'd walk, on stumps, the others hopt ;
And they who had lost ev'ry eye,
Follow'd the rest by sympathy ;
But when they'd ended all their wars,
And men grew out of love with scars,
Their trade decaying, to keep swimming,
They joyn'd the other trade of trimmings
And on their poles to publish either,
Thus twisted both their trades' together.

As for the checker, fome old writers,
(Al:ho' they are not quite fo bright as
Our moderns) fay, a jolly hostess
Took Negro drawer, and paid postage.
The brat as foon as come to light,
Was checker'd o'er with black and white.
Since which, to this virago's honour,
O'er door they've blazon'd, such a banner.
But whether this be true or not,
'Tis none, unless you hit the blot.

Now boldly set upon your trade,
And say you're by Apollo made.

Q. Tell me, o ! tell me, what is happiness ?

A. If, Madam, yet some husbands arms you bless, Ask bim, for he, if any, fute can guess.

Q. Gentlemen, How old, and from whence is the custom of throwing at cocks on Shrove Tuesday ? A. There are several different opinions concerning

the