He was a capital linguist; at fencing, leaping, running, and
other manly exercises, he found few rivals; and his dabblings in
architecture and botany were at least as notable as his mastership of
chess and his skill as a musician. But when it came to a scientific test
of his surgical and anatomical pretensions, his failure was lamentable
indeed. The unquenchable thirst for notoriety--which he may have
mistaken for fame--was perpetually leading him into questionable
positions, and finally covered his name with ridicule and confusion.
An impudent woman, known as Mary Tofts, declared to the world, that,
instead of a human child, she had given birth to a litter of rabbits.
How such a ridiculous tale ever found believers, it is impossible to
conceive; but such was the case. All England, with the very small
exception of those who united the possession of learning with common
sense, was imbued with the frenzy. The price of warrens was abated to a
mere song, and for a season a Londoner would as readily have eaten a
baked child as a roasted rabbit. The children of men were believed to
populate the burrows, and authorities of the highest reputation lent an
unhesitating support to the delusion.
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