So that the more Regularity and Artifice there appears in any of our
Extravagancies, the greater is the Folly of 'em. Upon this score it is
that the last mentioned deservedly claim the Preference to all others.
They have improved so well their Amusements into an Art, that the
credulous and ignorant are induced to believe there is some secret
Vertue, some hidden Mystery in those darling Toys of theirs: when all
their Bustling amounts to no more than a learned impertinence and all
they teach men is but a specious method of throwing away both Time and
Money.

"The _Illusions_ of _Poetry_ are fatal to none but the _Poets_
themselves: _Sidonius_ having lately miscarried upon the Stage, gathers
fresh Courage and is now big with the Hopes of a Play, writ by an
ancient celebrated Author, new-vampt and furbisht up after the laudable
Custom of our modern Witlings. He reckons how much he shall get by his
third day, nay, by his sixth; how much by the Printing, how much by the
Dedication, and by a modest Computation concludes the whole sum, will
amount to two hundred Pounds, which are to be distributed among his
trusty Duns. But mark the fallacy of _Vanity_ and _Self-conceit_: The
Play is acted, and casts the Audience into such a Lethargy, that They
are fain to damn it with _Yawning_, being in a manner deprived of the
Use of their _hissing_ Faculty. Well says, _Sidonius_, (after having
recover'd from a profound Consternation) _Now must the important Person
stand upon his own Leggs_. Right, _Sidonius_, but when do you come on
again, that _Covent-Garden_ Doctors may prescribe your Play instead of
Opium?

"The Town is not one jot more diverted by the Division of the
Play-houses: the _Players_ perform better 'tis true? but then the