its proprietor, to make it slip back again; the contracted part, or
neck, of the _patera_, being of such a peculiar formation as to cling
fast to the base of the nose, although it had found no difficulty in
gliding along its hypothenuse. Was ever minister in a worse plight? Was
there ever _contretemps_ so unlucky? Did ever any man--did ever any
minister, so effectually hoodwink himself, or so thoroughly shut his
eyes, to the plain light of nature? What was to be done? The place was
lonely; the way difficult and dangerous; human relief was remote, almost
beyond reach. It was impossible even to cry for help; or, if a cry could
be uttered, it might reach, in deafening reverberation, the ear of the
utterer, but it would not travel twelve inches farther in any direction.
To add to the distresses of the case, the unhappy sufferer soon found
great difficulty in breathing. What with the heat occasioned by the
beating of the sun on the metal, and what with the frequent return of
the same heated air to his lungs, he was in the utmost danger of
suffocation. Every thing considered, it seemed likely that, if he did
not chance to be relieved by some accidental wayfarer, there would soon
be _death in the pot_.

The instinctive love of life, however, is omni-prevalent; and even very
stupid people have been found, when put to the push by strong and
imminent peril, to exhibit a degree of presence of mind, and exert a
degree of energy, far above what might have been expected from them, or
what they were ever known to exhibit, or exert, under ordinary
circumstances. So it was with the pot-ensconced minister. Pressed by the
urgency of his distresses, he fortunately recollected that there was a
smith's shop at the distance of about a mile across the fields, where,
if he could reach it before the period of suffocation, he might possibly
find relief. Deprived of his eyesight, he acted only as a man of
feeling, and went on as cautiously as he could, with his hat in his