Experiment, aided by brandy.

Des Cartes bore a musket, they tell us,

Ere he wished, or was able, to write,

And was noted among the brave fellows,

Who are bolder to tipple than fight.

Of his system the cause and design

We no more can be pos'd to explain:—

The materia subtilis was wine,

And the vortices whirl'd in his brain.

Old Hobbes, as his name plainly shows,

At a hob-nob was frequently tried:

That all virtue from selfishness rose

He believ'd, and all laughter from pride.[2]

The truth of his creed he would brag on,

Smoke his pipe, murder Homer,[3] and quaff,

Then staring, as drunk as a dragon,

In the pride of his heart he would laugh.

Sir Isaac discover'd, it seems,

The nature of colors and light,

In remarking the tremulous beams

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