A certain winking genius, who wore yellow gloves at dinner, had,
on his first introduction, taken such offence at S--, because he
looked and talked, and ate and drank like any other man, that he
spoke contemptuously of his understanding ever after, and never
would repeat his visit, until he had exhibited the following
proof of his caprice. Wat Wyvil, the poet, having made some
unsuccessful advances towards an intimacy with S--, at last gave
him to understand, by a third person, that he had written a poem
in his praise, and a satire against his person; that if he would
admit him to his house, the first should be immediately sent to
press; but that if he persisted in declining his friendship, he
would publish his satire without delay. S-- replied, that he
looked upon Wyvil's panegyrick, as in effect, a species of
infamy, and would resent it accordingly with a good cudgel; but
if he published the satire, he might deserve his compassion, and
had nothing to fear from his revenge. Wyvil having considered the
alternative, resolved to mortify S-- by printing the panegyrick,
for which he received a sound drubbing. Then he swore the peace
against the aggressor, who, in order to avoid a prosecution at
law, admitted him to his good graces.
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