How (Sir) for News, you are to know, that
for these seven years last past, this renowned City
and Commonwealth of Utopia hath been sorely
afflicted with an infectious Itch of scribling political
discourses, caused by a Salt humour first
bottel'd in the Braine pan, and then breaking out
at the fingers ends. The world hath run a madding
here in disputes about Government, that is to say,
about Notions, Forms, and Shadows, and the
grind Pols of the Town being wisely convened
and assisted by the vertue of a sixpenny Club, have
so often (like Lucians philosophers) ended their
Conventions in a Quarrel, that the Magistrate
taking notice of these disorders, must himself determine
the matter; and to that end he gave order
to put the whole society of Pols into the Hospital
of the Incurabili, to have their Sculls opened
and searched with a long Sword, and so served up
with green-sauce, as a fit punishment for presuming
to break the Fundamentall Law of Utopia,
by daring to be in earnest, and appear in print so
profound and serious Projectors.
The day for Operation being come, viz the 13
of February wherein wee were to trie whether any
good could be done for the recovery of these lost
men, there was held in the Hospital-hall a celebrious
meeting of Operators of all sorts and sizes,
Surgeons, Apothecaries, Methodical Doctors, Quacks
Mounte banks, Leeches, Simplers, cunning Women,
Midwives, Nurses, Chymists, Trepanners, Sowguelders,