bring thee into scrapes and difficulties, which no after-wit can extricate
thee out of.--In these sallies, too oft, I see, it happens, that a person
laughed at, considers himself in the light of a person injured, with all
the rights of such a situation belonging to him; and when thou viewest him
in that light too, and reckons up his friends, his family, his kindred and
allies,--and musters up with them the many recruits which will list under
him from a sense of common danger;--'tis no extravagant arithmetic to say,
that for every ten jokes,--thou hast got an hundred enemies; and till thou
hast gone on, and raised a swarm of wasps about thine ears, and art half
stung to death by them, thou wilt never be convinced it is so.

I cannot suspect it in the man whom I esteem, that there is the least spur
from spleen or malevolence of intent in these sallies--I believe and know
them to be truly honest and sportive:--But consider, my dear lad, that
fools cannot distinguish this,--and that knaves will not: and thou knowest
not what it is, either to provoke the one, or to make merry with the
other:--whenever they associate for mutual defence, depend upon it, they
will carry on the war in such a manner against thee, my dear friend, as to
make thee heartily sick of it, and of thy life too.

Revenge from some baneful corner shall level a tale of dishonour at thee,
which no innocence of heart or integrity of conduct shall set right.--The
fortunes of thy house shall totter,--thy character, which led the way to
them, shall bleed on every side of it,--thy faith questioned,--thy works
belied,--thy wit forgotten,--thy learning trampled on. To wind up the last
scene of thy tragedy, Cruelty and Cowardice, twin ruffians, hired and set
on by Malice in the dark, shall strike together at all thy infirmities and
mistakes:--The best of us, my dear lad, lie open there,--and trust me,--
trust me, Yorick, when to gratify a private appetite, it is once resolved
upon, that an innocent and an helpless creature shall be sacrificed, 'tis