A _Cobler_ turn’d _Doctor_.
A Bungling _Cobler_ that was ready to Starve at his own Trade, changes
his Quarter, and sets up for a _Doctor_; and by the force of Sour Looks,
and Hard Words, Conjures himself into some sort of Reputation with the
Common People. His Master-piece was a Composition that he _Bill’d_ about,
under the Name of a _Sovereign Antidote_. This Physician came in time
to fall Sick himself, and the Governor of the Place gave him a Visit.
He calls for a Cup and a Dose of his _Antidote_, put’s a little Fair
Water in’t, under a Pretence of so much Poison; stirs it together, and
gives it his Patient. This (says he) is only to try the Force of your
Medicine; and if you out-live it, I’ll give ye a considerable Sum of
Money for your Receit. The poor _Quack_ had more Care of his Life then
of his Credit, and so for fear of being Poison’d, told the whole Truth
of the Matter, and how he came to be a Physician. The Governor upon this
Discovery, call’d the People together, and bad them consider the Folly
and Madness of their Confidence, that would venture the Patching up of
their Carcases, upon the Skill of an Ignorant Fellow, that no body that
knew him would trust so much as with the Mending of a pair of Old Shooes.
The MORAL.
_There’s Quacking in all Trades: Bold Ignorance passes upon the Multitude
for Science; and it is with Men as ’tis with Brutes, some are to Eat, and
others to be Eaten. Confident Knaves, live upon Credulous Fools._