THE
London-Spy.
PART VI.
The Colledge of Physicians Describ’d; with Observations thereupon. Remarks upon Fleet-Bridge, and the Humours of the People; with the Character of a Horse-Mountebank. The Character of a Quack in Verse. Remarks upon Fleet-Ditch. Bridewel Describ’d; the miserable condition of one of the Criminals; the manner of Trying ’em: The Correction given there to Young Women no proper way to Reform ’em: A Poem on the Antient and Modern State of Bridewell. A Ramble to Mobs-Hole in Essex; a Description of the Hunters Feast, with the Humours of the Guests.
WE now proceeded to survey Physicians Colledge which we found Illustrated with so loft and large a Porticum, that when we had entred it were no more in proportion to the spacious Lanthorn o’er our Heads, than a Cricket to a Bisket-Bakers Oven, or Tom Thumb to the Pudding-Bowl. Pray, said I, what is the Cause of that great Painted Tub that stands upon Wheels? It looks as if it was design’d as a Whimsical Cottage for some Maggot-Brain’d Diogenes: I hope there are no such fantastical Humourists among this Learned Society? No, no, reply’d my Friend, you are much beside the Cushion; that Engine is a kind of a Syringe, design’d to cure such Houses by Injection, that are under an Inflamation: From whence a Learned Physician of those times, took up a new notion of
curingcuring a Gonorrhea, till by the practice of his upstart Measures, he has Pox’d half the Town, to the great Satisfaction of his Fraternity, but so much to the Plague and Terror of his Patients, that it is believed fallen Noses will be as much in Fashion about Soho and Pick-a-dilly in a little time, as Scars amongst Prize-Fighters, or short Snouts among Ladies Lap-Dogs. Pray, said I, Explain your Allegory; I do not readily understand what you mean by your Syringe, &c. Why, if you must have it in plain Terms, says he, that which I term’d so, is a Device to cast Water into Houses that by accident have taken Fire; from whence, I suppose, the Doctor undertook to extinguish, after the like manner, all Venereal heats struck by Humane Stones and Steel into the Tinder-Box of Generation.
There are a Couple of fine Statues, plac’d opposite to each other, pray who do they Represent? The one, says my Friend, is the Kings, and the other that Worthy Charitable good Christian Sir John Cutler who, as a means, I suppose, the better to secure his own Health, and Long-Life, by the faithful assistance of this Anti-mortal Society, was in his Life time so great a Benefactor to this Learned Corporation; that when the Fire in Sixty six, had consum’d their Colledge in Amen-Corner, and the Ground being but a Lease, he lent them money to Purchase this Foundation, and to Build thereon this stately Edifice; which they, thro’ the mistaken hopes they had of his Generosity, receiv’d from him as a Gift, and to express their Gratitude for so Bountiful a Donation, have Publickly return’d him thanks, for what the Mudling Croesus never intended to perform, Dedicating several Books to him, wherein, like poor Poets, they express’d their unparallell’d Veneration to so Liberal a Patron, till at last their flatteries had so prevail’d upon the frankness of his humour, that he thank’d them kindly for their thanks, and prais’d them highly for their praises; but
told