description of his infirmities, for Dr. Swinfen, at that time an eminent
physician, in Staffordshire; and received an answer to his letter,
importing, that the symptoms indicated a future privation of reason; who
can wonder, that he was troubled with melancholy, and dejection of
spirit? An apprehension of the worst calamity that can befall human
nature hung over him all the rest of his life, like the sword of the
tyrant suspended over his guest. In his sixtieth year he had a mind to
write the history of his melancholy; but he desisted, not knowing
whether it would not too much disturb him. In a Latin poem, however, to
which he has prefixed, as a title, [Greek: GNOTHI SEAUTON], he has left
a picture of himself, drawn with as much truth, and as firm a hand, as
can be seen in the portraits of Hogarth, or sir Joshua Reynolds. The
learned reader will find the original poem in this volume; and it is
hoped, that a translation, or rather imitation, of so curious a piece,
will not be improper in this place.

KNOW YOURSELF.
(AFTER REVISING AND ENLARGING THE ENGLISH LEXICON, OR DICTIONARY.)

When Scaliger, whole years of labour past,
Beheld his lexicon complete at last,
And weary of his task, with wond'ring eyes,
Saw, from words pil'd on words, a fabric rise,
He curs'd the industry, inertly strong,
In creeping toil that could persist so long;
And if, enrag'd he cried, heav'n meant to shed
Its keenest vengeance on the guilty head,
The drudgery of words the damn'd would know,
Doom'd to write lexicons in endless woe[t].