certain rainy night to trepan brother Martin into a spunging-house,
and there strip him to the skin. How Martin, with much ado, showed
them both a fair pair of heels. How a new warrant came out against
Peter, upon which Jack left him in the lurch, stole his protection,
and made use of it himself. How Jack's tatters came into fashion in
court and city; how he got upon a great horse and ate custard {153}.
But the particulars of all these, with several others which have now
slid out of my memory, are lost beyond all hopes of recovery. For
which misfortune, leaving my readers to condole with each other as
far as they shall find it to agree with their several constitutions,
but conjuring them by all the friendship that has passed between us,
from the title-page to this, not to proceed so far as to injure
their healths for an accident past remedy, I now go on to the
ceremonial part of an accomplished writer, and therefore by a
courtly modern least of all others to be omitted.



THE CONCLUSION.



Going too long is a cause of abortion as effectual, though not so
frequent, as going too short, and holds true especially in the
labours of the brain. Well fare the heart of that noble Jesuit
{155} who first adventured to confess in print that books must be
suited to their several seasons, like dress, and diet, and
diversions; and better fare our noble notion for refining upon this
among other French modes. I am living fast to see the time when a
book that misses its tide shall be neglected as the moon by day, or