(_For the Mirror_.)
"Great events sometimes spring from trivial causes," of the truth of this
adage, no man is, I think, so great a _heretic_, as to express any
doubt--were such the case, it would be by no means difficult to conjure up
a host of evidence, in support of our proposition; but, seeing that "such
things are," let us at once to the point.
The present age is so rife in whims and proposals, that I am rather
apprehensive, some may doubt the _feasibility_ of the following.
Nevertheless, it is, methinks, quite as good, as many others which
recently were strangled, in struggling for existence.
In looking over some old pamphlets the other day, I met with the following
"true and particular account" of Mr. Peter Pounce, Postmaster, of
Petersham, and his horse, Prance.
Now, according to my author (of whose veracity I entreat the reader to use
his own discretion) it seems this Mr. Pounce was an exceedingly good kind
of man, and that his horse, Prance, was also an exceedingly good kind of
horse; moreover, when the postmaster travelled, he usually put up at the
_George_, where there is exceeding good entertainment for both man and
horse. Upon one occasion, being in great haste, Mr. Pounce directed the
ostler not to put Prance into the stable, but to tie him to the brew-house
door. Now, as cruel fate would have it, there was just within the nag's
reach, a tub full of wine lees, which, luckless moment for him, (being
thirsty) he unceremoniously quaffed off in a trice, without even _here's
to you_.
The consequence was, Prance fell down dead drunk; nay, he acted death so
much to the life, that his master, reckoning him absolutely defunct, had
him flayed, and sold his skin to a tanner, who happened to be drinking in
the alehouse kitchen. Mr. Pounce then walked in a solitary mood to his
home, and communicated the melancholy affair to his good lady, who wept
bitterly at Prance's untimely fate.
But leaving her to dry her eyes, we return to the nag--the weather being
cold, he was by the loss of his skin, &c. quite sobered, and prudently
trotted to his master's door, at which he whinnied with much clamour for
admission.
Bless me, my dear, exclaims Mrs. P. our nag's ghost is at the door--I know
him by his whinnies; upon which Mr. Pounce runs with alacrity to the
door, and sure enough there he was--no ghost--but in propriâ personâ
except his skin. In this exigence, the gentleman had four sheep killed
forthwith, and covered the nag with a woollen garment. To make short of
it, the horse rapidly recovered, and bore two tods of wool every year.
From this narration it is proposed to embrace the manifest advantages
which offer themselves for improving the woollen trade--that great staple
of Britain's wealth, in manner following:--
First, then, let an accurate estimate be taken of the number of sheep
annually slaughtered in these kingdoms.
Secondly.--Let proper officers be appointed to collect these skins into
commodious warehouses.
Lastly.--That such a number of horses, mares, and geldings as the said
skins will conveniently cover, be flayed (without fear of Mr. Martin!) and
their backs forthwith enveloped in fleece.
By this arrangement the following benefits will arise to the government
and community:--
1. Every horse whose hide was formerly only useful after death, will then
afford an annual profit by producing two tods of wool yearly, without any
loss to the tanner or shoemaker, who will still necessarily have as many
hides as heretofore.
2. The health of that useful animal the horse, which is probably liable to
more disorders than any other (the human species excepted) will be much
better preserved by woollen than a hairy covering.
3. There will be little occasion for saddles, &c. as the fleece will
afford a very easy seat, much softer than leather, and well adapted for
ladies and invalids.
Lastly.--There will be an annual acquisition of about 40 millions
sterling, from this novel mode of procedure, of which please to accept the
following algebraical demonstration:--
Let _x_ be the unknown quantity; _a_, the horses; _b_, the sheep; then per
simple equations _x_, plus _a_, plus _b_, minus tods, plus sheepskins,
equal one thousand--then minus sheep, plus horses, minus wool, plus tods,
equal one million. Lastly, horses plus sheep, minus hides, plus fleeces,
in all equal forty millions.
Quod erat demonstrandum.
There, reader, if you are still a sceptic, I cannot help it.