A COLLECTION OF Miscellany Poems, LETTERS, &c.
By Mr. BROWN, &c.
To which is added, A CHARACTER OF A LATITVDINARIAN.
LONDON, Printed for Iohn Sparks, in Newstreet, near Fleetstreet. 1699.
The Bookseller to the Reader.
MEthinks I see the Reader under a great disappointment, to find a Book of Mr Brown [...]ing into the world without the Equipage of a flaunting Dedication or a Prefatory Epistle, like a painted young Whore in the Frontispiece of a Nanny House▪ to inveagle Customers. What? says the Reader, has all his Munificent Patrons made their Exits? has he dropt those necessary requisits of a Mercenary Pen, Impudence and Importunity? or has the fumes of a long debauch raised such Fogs about his Brains, that nothing could be pumpt from his Poets Fingers? No, Gentlemen, he is retired into the Country with some yellow and white Chips of the Tower, and now looks as much above a Book-seller, as a P— Councellor above a Porter; and the De'el a Line can I draw from him, whilst he fancies himself Lord of India. This is an Epidemical disease among some Scribblers, who have no Wit to sell, while they have Money to spend, or can be trusted; but when they are reduced to a low ebb, they'll sneak, fawn, and cringe, like a Dog that has worry'd Sheep, and dreads the Halter. Then 'tis, kind Sir, your most obedient humble Servant, wherein, Dear Sir, does it lye in the Sphere of my Activity to serve you, and earn half a Crown to procure me Credit for a Fortnight in a Cellar in the Strand. [Page] Now since 'tis inconsistent with my Interest, to wai [...] any longer in expectation of a Preface, I have adventur'd 'em to run the Risque of Censure, and shif [...] for themselves without one. Nor indeed do I apprehend any Necessity to detain the Reader in the Portal, where the inside abounds with such variety o [...] excellent furniture, as will sufficiently delight th [...] Ingenious contemplator; here and there are interspers'd some words bordering upon Indecency, for which I hope Mr Collier, Corrector General of th [...] prophane and debauch'd Press, will take my Autho [...] into Chastizement, amongst the rest of the Smutty Po [...]ets, and he'll oblige my grateful acknowledgment in a Bottle of Wine and a Neats Tongue, for helpin [...] me to sell some Thousands of these Books more; bu [...] methinks I hear some say, how comes a Book-selle [...] to write Prefaces, why not say I, for the Conversati [...]on of the Town, and keeping Company with the Wi [...] will do much; for what would Mr D—y hav [...] done, who was bred a Scrivener, if it had not bee [...] for the Conversation of the Town; or what wou'd be come of the young Oxonians and Cantabridgeans if they wanted Conversation; if any designed for th [...] Gos—l, they must Troop down to supply the Coun [...]try Pul—s; or, for the Law, they would be only fi [...] to carry a green Bag after a Councellor. I beg m [...] Readers pardon, for being so prolix, but I ha [...] now done, and remain his humble Servant,
Miscellany Poems, &c.
The Contented Whore.
An Imitation of Epig. 66. in Mart. l. 12. Formosa Phyllis nocte cum mihi tota, &c.
Mart. Epig. 20. l. 1. Si memini, fuerant tibi quatuor, Aelia dentes.
Advice to a Vintner.
Mart. Epig. 19- l. 1. The Hint taken from Quid te Tucca juvat.
Mart. Epig. 5. l. 2. Ne valeam, si non totis, Deciane, diebus, &c.
Mart. Epig. 61. l. 11. Sit Phlogis an Chione Veneri magis apta requiris?
Hor. Ode 8. l. 1. Lydia dic per omnes, &c.
Hor. Ode 1 [...]. l. 2. Quid Bellicosus Cantaber, &c.
Hor. Ode 27. l. 1. Natis in Vsum laetitiae Scyphis, &c.
To Mr. Henry Purcel.
The Ode in Horace L. 4. Paraphrased Audivere Lyce, &c.
The x. Ode in Horace L. 3. Paraphrased. Extremum Tanaim si biberes Lyce, &c.
The xxvi. Ode in Hor. L. 3. Paraphras'd. Vixi puellis nuper idoneus, &c.
The xv. Ode in Horace Lib. 3. Imitated. Vxor pauperis Ibyci, &c.
The Epigram in Martial L. Imitated.
In obitum Tho. Shadwell pinguis memoria 1693.
An Impromptu to Shadwell's Memory, by Dr. B—
In Decretum Parliamenti 1689. De non adulterandis Vinis.
Inscriptions design'd for the Dyal ove [...] the Fountain in the new Square at Li [...] colns-Inn.
An Epigram under the Picture of a Bea [...] ▪
The Song of Go Perjur'd Man, set admirably to Music by Dr. Blow. Translated into Latin.
To a Lady that would not grant the [...] favours under cheaper terms tha [...] Matrimony.
Out of French.
Avis sur a Mariage.
The Fable of the Bat and the Birds. In Imitation of that of the Buzzard in the Hind and Panther. In the year 1689.
Antenor's Speech in the Second Aeneid, applied to the Declaration for Liberty of Conscience. In the year 1687.
A Satyr upon an Ignorant Quack that murder'd a Friends Child, and occasion'd the Mother upon the news of it to Miscarry.
An Inscription upon a Tobacco-Box.
An Imitation of it in English.
Upon Burning some Anti-Monarchi [...] Books to the Memory of King Charl [...] the First, in the year 1691.
To Mr. D— upon his most incomparable Ballads, call'd by him Lyric Odes.
To Mr. Higden, upon the ill success o [...] his Play.
To the same, upon his Play's being damn'd, for having too much eating and drinking in it.
Upon persecuting it with Cat-calls.
The extravagant Lover, out of French ▪ 1684.
A Translation of Teucer Salamina, Patrem (que) Cum fugeret, &c. Hor. Ode vii. lib. 1.
Ode ix. Lib. 1. in Horace imitated. Vides ut alta stet nive candidum, &c. Written in the year, 1685. To Sir Iohn Bowyer.
[...] Imitation of the 6th Ode in Horace, l. 1. Scriberis vario fortis, & hostium—In the year, 1685. after the defeat of the Rebels in the West.
Prologue spoken before the University of Oxford, 1683.
EPILOGUE.
An Imitation of a French Ode, in the ingenious Monsieur St. Evremont' [...] Works. Tome 2.
To a Gentleman that cut off his hair, and set up for a Spark in his old Age. Out of Martial. Epig. 43. lib. 3. Mentiri [...] Iuvenem, &c.
Part of the 2d Ode in Horace l. 4. Tra [...]slated. Beginning at Dignum [...] Virum.
Henrico Higden Arm. Cum infoeliciter ipsi Comaedia cesserit. 1693.
On the Treatment of the Moder [...] Drama. By Mr Kn—of Magd. Col [...]
An Imitation of Vxor vade soras. In Mart. l. ii. Ep. 105. By Capt. Ht—
An Imitation of the 14th Epode in Hor
A translation of Ode xxii. lib. i. Vitas Hinnuleo.
A Translation of Ode iii. L. 1. in Horace Sic te Diva potens, &c. Address'd to his Honour'd Friend Mr. B— going into Turky.
An Imitation of an Epigram 44. in Mart. lib. iii. Occurrit tibi nemo quod libenter, &c.
SONG, By Mr. Gl—
On Dr. Lower, who was observed to b [...] grown good-natur'd a little befor [...] his Death. By another hand.
Verses put into a Lady's Prayer-book. Supposed to be written by the late Earl of Rochester.
The Fable of the Horse and the Stag
A Translation of Lesbia mi dicit semper male. Out of Catullus.
On one Becker, a Parson of Amsterdam who in a Book entitled, The World Bewitch'd, pretends to prove there is but one Devil.
The Fable of the Wolf and Porcupine. In answer to The Argument against a Standing Army.
The Fable of Apollo and Daphne.
Labienus's Speech in Lucans Pharsalia ▪ Translated by Mr. Dennis.
The 63d Epigram in Martial, Lib. 3 Translated by Mr. P— Cotile Bellus homo es, &c.
To an old affected Court Lady.
To Belinda. Upon her Marrying o [...] that was Blind and Lame.
To his Cruel Mistress. Out of French.
An Ode upon a Kiss. Out of French.
A Sapphic Ode in the Valesiana.
A Translation. Principio, Coelum, & Terras, Titania (que) astra Spiritus intus alit, totum (que) insusa per artus Mens agitat molem—
Miscellaneous Letters.
LETTER I. A Letter to the Duke of Buckingham, by the famous Monsieur St. Evremont. Oevres Melees, Tome Sec. p. 51. Done into English.
AN humble Servant of yours here in Town, Monsieur Borne by name, is so fully satisfied of the reality of your Reformation, that he expresses himself in these terms to all that have the honour to know you.
I dare venture my own Salvation upon the same bottom with that of the Duke of Buckingham, so firmly do I believe the sincerity of his Conversion.
Conversion, says Mr. Waller to him, have a care what you say: People don't use to be converted [Page 130] now adays so easily. This new reformation you talk of in the D. of Buckingham is owing neither to you, nor me, nor yet to any man living.
'Tis a new Friend of his, but one that has been dead, the Lord knows how many hundred years ago, that has very lately brought about this miraculous change that so surprizes us.
I mean Petronius Arbiter, the most delicate man of his age, for Poetry, Painting, and Music. One that perpetually studied and pursued pleasure, one that turn'd the day into night, and the night into the day, but at the same time so absolute a Master of himself, that whenever his affairs requird it, he was one of the most regular men in the Universe.
The Duke of Buckingham, who has long ago resembled him in a thousand other qualities, was resolved of late to imitate him too in this. Thus I have shown you, Monsieur Borne, from whence proceeds this alteration in his Grace's Life, which you it seems have mistaken for a Conversion.
But with both these Gentlemens leave, I shall account for it after another manner.
'Tis a certain Maxim with me, that no man of a nice palat can love vice, when once it ceases to be agreeable, so for my part I don't wonder that a person of so refin'd and delicate a taste, as your Grace, takes up with the virtue of Continence in the North, where you have no [Page 131] objects to tempt and disturb you. But I dare engage that if we had you here in Town, and showed you some of our topping Beauties, that have charms enough to conquer the most insensible, we shou'd soon find the new Convert of Monsieur Borne, and Mr. Waller's new Petronius, to be nothing in the World, but the true genuine Duke of Buckingham.
Heaven forbid that I should ever be so wickedly given as to disswade your Grace from so comfortable a quarter as Love. But I have another Sin to propose to you, which of your self you wou'd never guess, and yet I recommend it sincerely to you, and from the bottom of my heart. I confess it has a Scurvy name, and the World calls it Covetousness, however it would be of more advantage to your Grace, than the Wisdom of Philosophers, and the glory of Conquerors. To be short, I should rather chuse to see your Grace copy any of the Heroes in Lumbardstreet, than either Socrates or Caesar. Where the difficulty is great, the merit of surmounting it is great. Now all the World knows that your Grace will find it infinitely more troublesome to you to imitate the former, than the two latter Gentlemen.
As we don [...]t all on the sudden arrive to the heighth of perfection, I am not so vain as to expect you should practise all the rules of Oeconomy at first sight, nor so morose as to advise [Page 132] you to deny your self every thing, amongst so great an affluence as surrounds you All I begg of your Grace is, that you wou'd have a watchful eye upon your City friends, that have the fingering of your Money, to keep them honest in spite of themselves. For unless out of tenderness to their Souls, you hinder them from playing the Knaves, I dare swear for them that they wou'd venture damnation a hundred times a day, and all in your Graces service.
And now if you think it worth your while, when you come next to London, to bring a small retinue with you, but a great deal of money in your pocket, you will certainly be the wonder of the whole Nation. If you neglect this advice, the greater part of the World will never be for you, and you must content your self with a few admirers in private, of whom I shall always be the first, who am
LETTER II. A Letter to the Dutchess of — By the same hand.
I Have presumed, Madam, to send you some advice, tho I am sensible how little you La [...]dies care to receive any. But let the effect be what it will, I am too much in the interest of your Beauty, not to inform you, that you'll injure it extreamly, should you be so ill-advised as to set off, and adorn your self after the fashion of the Court Ladies on the Queens Birthday. Let others of your Sex make use of ornaments: for, properly speaking, they are but so many artificial helps, which we employ to cover the defects of nature, or else to give us some agreements that are wanting in our persons. But Heaven be praised, Madam, you lye under no such necessity. Every ornament that is bestowed upon you, hides a charm, as every ornament that is taken from you, restores you some new graces, and you are never so lovely, as when we behold nothing in you, but your self.
[Page 134]The greatest part of the Ladies lose themselve very advantageously under their dress. How many indifferent faces pass well enough with Jewels and Diamonds, and Conquer hearts by Candle-light, that wou'd make a very sorry figure without them. The richest Necklace in the World wou'd have an ill effect upon you. It wou'd make some alteration in your person, and every alteration that happens to a perfect Beauty, wou'd certainly be for the worse
Leave others then to ruin themselves by their Jewels and other Decorations; nature that has been at so vast an expence to frame you, has saved you that charge. You, Madam, wou'd be very ingrateful, and we shou [...]d discover but a wretched taste, shou'd we not be equally content, with that profusion of gifts she has heaped upon you.
I wou'd counsel you, Madam, to take the same measures on her Majesties Birth day, which the famous Bussi d' Amboise formerly observed at a Tournament. Being informed before-hand that all the Noblemen of the Court designed to put themselves to an extraordinary expence in their Equipages and Cloaths, he ordered those of his retinue to be drest like Lords, and appeared himself in the plainest dress in the World at the head of so rich a train. The advantages of nature were so conspicuous in the person of Bussi, that he alone was taken for a great Lord, and the other Noblemen, that relyed so much upon [Page 135] the magnificence of their habits, past but for Valets.
Govern your self, I beseech you Madam, by the Example of Bussi: Let your Women be attired like Dutchesses, but as for your self appear in the ordinary dress of a Country Nymph, with nothing but the charms of your Beauty to recommend you: All the Ladies will be taken for your Women, and the plainness of your habit will not hinder you from out-shining all the Queens in the Universe.
I have no great inclination to tell stories, which perhaps is nothing but the effect of an ill-grounded Vanity, that makes me prefer the expressing of what I imagine, to the reciting of what I have seen. The profession of a Story-teller sits but awkwardly upon young People, and is downright weakness in old men. When our wit is not arrived to its due vigor, or when it begins to decline, we then take a pleasure in telling what does not put us to any great expence of thought. However, I will for once renounce the pleasure, which I generally take in my own imagination, to recount to you a short adventure, which I once saw happen at the Hague.
During my residence in that place, some malicious Daemon, put it one day into the head of a certain Count and his Friend, to draw the eyes of the Spectators after them. To put which [Page 136] noble design in execution, they both resolved that their dress should have all the magnificence which this part of the World was able to give it, and at the same time discover the goodness of their invention.
The Count, who was one of the nicest men of his age, had a thousand singularities to distinguish him. He had a Plume of feathers in his Hat, which was buttoned up by a Diamond, the largest that cou'd be found, for this occasion. He wore about his Neck some Point de Venise, which was neither a Cravat nor a Band. 'Twas a small Ruff, which had serv'd him formerly instead of a Golille when he liv [...]d at Madrid. After this, Madam, you wou'd expect to find him in a Doublet, after the Spanish manner, but, to your surprize, I must tell you it was an Hungarian Vest. Then the Ghost of Antiquity haunted his memory, so he cover'd his ankles with Buskins, but infinitely richer than the ancient Romans used to wear them: on which he had order [...]d his Mistresses name to be written in Letters that were extremely well design'd, upon an embroidery of Pearls.
From his Hat down to his Vest, 'twas all singular, and odd and fanciful. By the latter you wou'd have taken him for the Count de Serini, or some Beau of Quality dropt out of the Hungarian world; and an old Picture of Caesar or Scipio had inspir'd him with the noble thought of wearing Buskins.
[Page 137]As for his friend, he had apparell'd himself [...]fter as extraordinary a manner as he possibly [...]ou'd, but it was in the modern French way. His Cravat reached down to his middle, and had stuff enough in it to make a sail for a Barge. A most prodigious Cravat-String peep'd from under his Chin, the two corners of which, in conjunction with a monstrous Perriwig, that wou'd have made a Laplander sweat under the Northern Pole, eclipsed three quarters of his face. In short, he was so be-ribbon'd all over, that one would have thought all the Milleners in the place, had joyned their Stocks to furnish him.
This, in short, was the equipage of our Messieurs, when they made their appearance in the Voorhout, which is the place where persons of Quality use to take the air, and divert themselves.
They were scarce enter'd upon the spot, when multitudes ran from all hands to gaze and stare at them; and as every body was surprized at so fantastic a scene, they cou'd not tell at first whether to admire it as extraordinary, or to ridicule it as extravagant. In this uncertainty of thought, as they were going to determine it one way or another, Monsieur de Louvigni arrived in the place, and put a stop to their grave Contemplation. He wore a plain black suit, and clean linnen made up the rest, but then he showed one of the finest shapes, and most agreeable [Page 138] face that can be imagin'd. His modest de [...]portment silently insinuated the merits of all hi [...] excellent qualities. Having thus described hi [...] charms to you, 'tis no difficult matter to gue [...] how the Company receiv'd him. The Ladie [...] were touch [...]d, and the Men were infinit [...]l [...] pleased. In short, Madam, all the Spectator were as much affected, as the poor Count an [...] his Friends were mortified, to their great disap [...]pointment.
People still remember at the Hague how tri [...]umphantly Monsieur de Louvigni came off, an [...] still make sport with telling the ill success of th [...] two aforesaid Gentlemen.
I need not give my self the trouble, Madam to make a formal Application of this story to you who have a judgment so exqusitely nice an [...] discerning. Let my advice meet with what en [...]tertainment it will, none of your subjects pray [...] so heartily for your long and happy reign ove [...] us, as
LETTER III. To Madam — By the same hand.
AS nothing is to honourable as an ancient friendship, so nothing is so scandalous as an [...] passion. Undeceive your self, Madam, of [...] false merit of being faithful, and take it for a [...]rtain truth, that constancy is the only thing in [...] World, that can bring the reputation of your [...]auty in question. Who knows whether you [...]solved to love but one person, or whether it was [...]our unhappiness [...]o find but one single Lover. [...]alicious people will be apt to fancy the latter.
You vainly imagine that you practise a virtue, [...]hile alass you make us suspect you have de [...]cts which we don't perceive. In the mean time [...]nsider how many inquietudes accompany [...]is pretended virtue, and what a vast difference [...]ere is between the disgusts that an old engage [...]ent gives us, and the pleasant conflicts of a [...]owing passion.
[Page 140]In a new Amour we pass every hour of the da [...] with new satisfaction. 'Tis an unexpressible plea [...]sure to find that our love grows upon us ever [...] minute; but in a passion of an old standing, o [...] time is spent very uneasily, in still loving less, o [...] not loving at all.
We may live well enough with persons that a [...] indifferent to us; either common civility, o [...] good manners, or the consideration that the [...] may sometimes be serviceable to us, may reconcil [...] us to it. But how miserably do we pass our live with them whom we love, when we find th [...] we are not beloved again.
I have only four words more to say to you, an [...] I will be so free with you as to desire you to ma [...] some reflection upon them. If you continue sti [...] to place your affection upon that, which oug [...] to displease you, 'tis a sign you have none of th [...] best tastes: and if you have not resolution enoug [...] to quit that which makes you uneasy, 'tis a dow [...] right weakness: you ought to put it into your [...]tany, and pray to be delivered from it.
LETTER IV. Out of the Reflections of Monsieur Villiers, p. 149. To his much esteem'd friend, Monsieur —
Remember, that the last time I had the honor [...] of your conversation, we happened to talk of [...]eral persons that made a great ostentation of their piety, and p [...]ssed for Saints in the places [...]here they lived, who as we had just occasion to [...]spect, by their over-acting the Farce, were [...]wnright Cheats, if truly examined. I was go [...]g to confirm this with a story, that lately fell [...]thin my own observation; but happen'd to be [...]terrupted by the coming in of fresh company, [...]hich put a stop to the discourse. However, as [...]is worth your knowing, I have given my [...]f the trouble to send you a full account of it in [...]s Letter.
About a month ago I had occasion to travel to the Country with two Ladies, one of them a [Page 142] young Marchioness, descended of one of the n [...]blest Families in the Kingdom; the other a La [...]yers Widow, about fifty years old, who took [...] same title upon her, tho the meanness of her [...]traction, and her Husbands employment, th [...] was none of the most honourable, might ha [...] secur'd her, one would have thought, from so [...]diculous a temptation. But being le [...]t very ric [...] her own Vanity, and the complaisance of h [...] Friends had made her a Marchioness, and this w [...] the title she receiv'd on all occasions, and at [...] challeng'd as her due.
I had but little acquaintance with either of the [...] but I was engaged in this journey by a frie [...] whose commands I cou'd not well disobey, a [...] who knew both these Ladies perfectly well.
We were going to the Government of [...] young Marchioness's Husband, where she was e [...]pected, and preparations were made on the Road [...] her reception; the old Marchioness travelling o [...]ly as her Companion, however she had her sh [...] of all the Honours and Civilities that were [...] to the other. At the first City where we arrive [...] as soon as we had alighted out of the Coach, [...] young Marchioness was invited to a very pleas [...] walk without the Town, and it being Sum [...] time, she embraced the motion: but the old La [...] taking an air of authority upon her, said it [...] be much better to go to Church, and hear a go [...] Sermon there. The young Marchioness told her [...] [Page 143] [...]ight go thither if she pleased, while she took a [...]alk. This answer cruelly nettled the Widow, [...]t she dissembled the matter as well as she cou'd, [...]nd taking the next way to the Church, she de [...]red me to bear her company thither. Altho his fit of Devotion seem'd somewhat unseasona [...]le to me, yet good manners wou'd not suffer me [...]o let her walk alone. So with her I went, and [...]ll the way had the satisfaction to hear her vent [...]er godly spleen very plentifully at the young Marchioness; she told me a hundred reproachful [...]ories of her, nay, she did not forbear to censure [...]ven her conduct. This language continu'd till he came into the Church-porch. I admir'd with [...]y self how it was possible for so zealous a Ser [...]on-hunter to be so damnably censorious.
All the while she was at Church she made up [...]er mouth as demurely as the best of the Congre [...]ation; as soon as it was over, she re-assumed the [...]ld argument, and rail'd on, as fast as her malici [...]us Lungs would give her leave, till we came to [...]he young Marchioness, who was still walking in [...]he Garden. I had there an opportunity to dis [...]ourse the young Lady in private, and to satisfy [...]y self whether there had been any former quar [...]el between them, turn'd the conversation upon [...]he old Marchioness, of whom she spoke in very [...]liging terms, and did not say the least Syllable [...] her that was disrespectful. I then made no dif [...]culty to conclude that this formal Hypocrite, [Page 144] that was perpetually disgorging broken ends o [...] Sermons, and pelting every body that came nea [...] her with Texts of Scripture, was nothing near [...] virtuous at bottom as the young Lady, who kep [...] her Devotion to her self; and I made a thousan [...] Observations during this short journey, that su [...]ly confirm'd me in this opinion.
The young Marchioness, who, as I told yo [...] before, made no great noise or bustle about her Reli [...]gion, spent but half an hour at her Toilette, an [...] always got ready one of the first for her Journey▪
The old Lady spent no less than three hours i [...] tricking herself, and made the Company perpe [...]tually tarry for her.
Our Religious Dame, for all her pretences t [...] mortification, thought it no sin to patch an [...] paint herself: The Marchioness, content with he [...] face such as Heaven made it, scorn'd to have r [...]course to such artifices.
The former must always have her Gellies, an [...] Broaths, and Caudles, and the Lord knows wha [...] brought to her before she wou'd venture her c [...]cass out of Bed: the latter never thought of eatin [...] till the very moment before she went into he [...] Coach.
The young Lady was always in good humo [...] spoke well of every body, was satisfied with eve [...] thing, and carefully avoided all the complime [...] and honours that were done her, in a Countr [...] where she was Mistress.
[Page 145]On the other hand, the old Marchioness, who was a perfect Stranger in it, not only took every occasion to receive them, but was always complaining, that she had not respect enough paid her. The Beds were never good enough for her, the Dinner never pleased her, the Servants were always sawcy or negligent, the Bills unreasonable, the Coachman either drove too [...]ast or too slow: Still she found one opportunity or another to vent her pious indignation. No body's name cou'd be mentioned to her, but still she found something to blame in their Conduct. Then she was the most imperious Devil alive to her Servants, none of her Women ever lived a full fortnight with her. In short, she was eternally railing, censuring, and back-biting, but still she did it with a godly air, and in the language of the Old Testament.
If any one now shou'd ask me the question, which of these two I thought to have the most Religion, I shou'd immediately declare my self in favour of the young Marchioness, and yet to see how partially the World judges of Persons, the young Lady passes by common consent for a Woman that is wholly devoted to the World, and the other is universally taken for a Saint.
Thus you see how easily the World is imposed upon, by a fair outside, and glittering appearances. 'Tis true your persons of sense see through these [...]hin disguises, and are sensible of the cheat, but where you meet one of that character, you find [Page 146] ten thousand Fools that always assist to deceive themselves. A man of true Piety, that has no designs to carry on, like one of an established fortune, always make the least Noise. One never pulls out his Money, the other never talks of Religion, but when there's occasion for it.
This puts me in mind of a passage that happen'd t'other day. I made a visit one afternoon to Madam * [...] * where I found several City Ladies of the first magnitude. After a great deal of foolish Chat about the duty of Husbands, and the infidelity of the Men, some body in the room, by w [...]at accident I have now forgot, trump't up Sylvius's name, who you know is a man of great merit, and has the happiness to be well received by the fair Sex; Says a starched piece of formality, I wonder how he comes to make so many Conquests, but for my part, tho he sighed a whole age at my Feet, I am sure I should never lose a moments repose for him. I don't know the Gentleman, replys another Lady, but if he is what the World represents him, I dare not answer to my heart, that I cou'd maintain it long against him. This latter spoke her Sentiments honestly, and without reserve, whereas the other was a dissembling Coquette that had buried two Husbands, and was looking out for a third, and if warmly attacqu'd, wou'd, I dare answer for her, swallow a temptation without making wry Faces, as readily as an [...] Usurer does an Orphan.
[Page 147]But tho a good reason may be given why we have so many Hypocrites in Religion, when they make their for [...]es by it; I cou'd never comprehend the mystery, that the generality of the World shou'd be such Asses to value themselves for things that are apparently false.
Lucius is the Grandson of a Chimney-sweeper, all the World knows it, and yet the Sot values himself in all Companies upon his noble extraction, everlastingly talks of the services which his Ancestors have done the publick. Yet, says a Gentleman to him one day, finding him upon this Strain, the publick is oblig'd to your Ancestors; if it had not been for them Paris had been in danger of burning more than once.
Stentor is one of the vilest preachers that ever murder'd a Text. He has nothing but his lungs and impudence to recommend him. He had never learning enough at the Colledge to get him a Degree, nor reputation enough in the City to get twenty Auditors together to sit with him thro-out, yet in all his Sermons this insect quotes Fathers and Councels, with as much assurance as if he knew them, and talks of nothing but the vast multitudes that flock from all quarters to hear him.
Aemelia is an antiquated Maid, censorious and deform'd, she has often bribed Midwives and Persons, to proclaim her for a great fortune, and twenty times given money to be join'd in a Lampoon, with twenty Sparks one after another, to [Page 148] try if something wou'd come on't. But after all her intriguing she cou'd never yet find any one Cully enough to marry her. Ye [...] she perpetually tells every one she sees, what advantageous matches she has refused in her time, such a Lords languish'd, and such a Knight run mad for her. And if you'll believe Captain Buff, the King has not dispos'd of the Government of a Fort these twenty years, but he has had the first offer of it.
But I forget I am writing a Letter, and have launched into an Essay: Therefore I will end abruptly here, rather than trespass any longer upon your patience, and only beg leave to add that I am
LETTER V. A onsolatory Letter to Mr. H—
I Am none of the best comforters in the world; however, yours is so common and easie a case, that any one may set up for a Doctor, and pretend to prescribe Remedies for it. You send me word you are a Cuckold, and desire my advice [Page 149] upon the matter: why is this a time to complain of Cuckoldom. You ought to have reconciled your self to that point long ago, before you ventur'd into the Holy State, and not to mortify with the thought on't now, when you can't help your self. A Soldier should consider before he lists himself, how he can bear the loss of an arm or leg; if he meets with an unlucky shot, 'tis but the chance of War, and if he comes off in a whole skin 'tis more than he cou'd expect, and Providence used him better than he deserv'd. The Oracle in Rablais, to which you are no stranger, long ago declar'd, that every married man either has been, or is, or will be a Cuckold, and cou'd you ever hope to elude an Oracle? For my part, 'tis no more than what I expected to hear of you every post: you have been long jealous of your Wife, and now it comes home to you, for jealousy does as naturally ripen into Cuckoldom, as a Catterpillar into a horned Insect call'd a Butterfly. However, you have got this by the bargain, that it has cured you, God be thanked, of your jealousy, which is one of the worst tormenters a man can have; and who would not bear with a sawcy Companion to get rid of the Devil. But after all, what you complain of is no disgrace, you share it in common with the Caesars and Pompeys, and most of the Heroes of former Ages, and with the N— and M— of this, besides an infinite number of Dukes, Marquisses, [Page 150] Earls, Bishops, Knights, Aldermen, Deans, Archdeacons, Heads and Governors of Colledges and Halls; and who wou'd regret to be joyn'd in so good a Company?
But your Family's dishonour'd, and so perhaps it has been twenty times since the Conquest. I told you before I had no extraordinary hand at comforting. A thousand other Families have been subject to the same calamity, and why you should expect to fare better than your Neighbours, I don't understand. But if I had deserved it from my Wife. Why so much the better still: Other people use to comfort themselves in their misfortunes, by reflecting upon their innocence, and why should not you? If your Wife has a fancy to go to the Devil let her ne're lose her longing: rather than that shou'd happen, do by her as Charles the fifth is said to do by a flying Enemy, build her a Bridge to go thither.
Well, but what would you have me do? you say Iob, and Plutarch and Seneca, have been so often prescrib'd to people in your condition, that I won't offer them to you. My advice is then, that you'd come to Town as soon as you can, and take a Lodging in Cheapside or near Whitehall, and there I'll pass my word for't you'll be thought no monster: tho you unmannerly folks in the Country stare at a Cuckold, as much as here we do at a Kings Evidence just after a new Plot, yet London's a civil place, and we think him no prodigy [Page 151] here▪ But if your affairs won't give you leave to come to Town, my next advice is, to retalliate upon your Neighbours, plant Cuckoldom as thick as you can in your Hundred; and for that end get in with the Aunts, the Nurses, and Midwives; but above all, secure the Church, and get the Clergy on your side. When your numbers are grown pretty considerable, make a descent into the next Hundred, and so on, till you have made the whole County of a piece. When you have effected this, you'll be above the reach of scandal, your multitudes will protect you, and then you'll live as comfortably, as we do here in London. But what shall I do with my Wife? I have already told you; Build her a Bridge, and lose no time. I am,
LETTER VI. To W. K. Esq
'TIs a sign I am never weary of keeping a correspondence with you, since I can afford to do it at this terrible juncture, when the Ink friezes as I write: But you must expect nothing else from me but what you would hear in every Coffee-house, were you in Town, and that is, to be entertain'd about the Frost. The common people here are of opinion, that the Northern Monarch, who has done us the honour of a visit, has brought his own Country Weather along with him, and they confirm it with a very good instance; for they remember that when the Morocco Ambassador was here, we had the hottest Summer that ever was known. Thus, according to these merry Philosophers, every Foreigner that comes to see us, takes care, like Nicholas in the Virtuoso, to bottle up some of the Air of his own Climate, and retails it among us here.
[Page 153]It has been a general complaint, that all the Seasons but winter have been of late inverted. Mr. Flamsted you know has pretended that the Sun has been out of order this good while, and a friend of yours, who loves dearly to sit up a nights, being asked what was the reason that he never saw him, replied, that he cou'd not endure to see sick folks. 'Tis no wonder that he can do no more in Ianuary, since for eight years last past, he has not been scarce able to maintain his Summer Quarters, and Winter has had the impudence to bully him even in his own Dog-days. Indeed, if he decays in proportion to what he has done of late, the Lord have mercy, say [...], on Dr. Burnet's Hypothesis of the Charterhouse, for he'll be no more able to cause a general confl [...]gration, than old Parr was to get a Bastard in the hundred and fifty second year of his age.
But to leave off these metaphysical contemplations— If this severe Season lasts many days longer, it will as effectually try the orthodoxy of peoples constitution, as the new A—concerning K. I— will shew who is Stanch to the Government, and who not. We used to say in the late Reign, that if Popery p [...]oved to be long-lived, 'twould soon be found who were in the interests of the Whore of Babylon. But this frost, I conceive, will make truer and juster discoveries; for a man, if he's wickedly inclin'd, may play a thousand tricks with his faith and no body be [Page 156] the wiser; but the Devil is in him if such searching Weather (which penetrates deeper than the Inquisition) does not extort very unlucky confessions from his Carcass, especially if in his younger days he studied natural Philosophy in Covent Garden. I can't tell how it fares with you in the Country, but here in Town Water is scarcer than its opposite Element, Fire; so that 'tis dreaded by some understanding persons, that a stop will be put to Bap—m for some time, unless the C—y can get Moses's Miracle of striking Water out of a Rock, or unless the C—ch will dispence with the use of Aqua-vitae in that case, as some will tell you they do in Norway, where at this time of the year Water is as great a rariety, as truth is at W— and most of the Courts in Christendom all the year round.
A friend of mine happen'd yesterday to be in a Tavern Kitchin near the Custom-House, and complaining of the cold; Lord, says a Sea-Captain to him, this is nothing, Sir, to what I have felt, no more, as Gad shall judge me, than a Tooth-picker is to the Mainmast of the Britannia ▪ I made the North East Voyage with Captain Wood, and have been in a Country, Sir, where they don't bury between Michaelmass and Lady-day. What said my friend, don't the people die all that time? Yes, a pox on them, they dye fast enough, but the ground is as hard as a flint, so they are forced in their own defence to pile up [Page 157] [...]heir dead Folks in the Belfry, as we do Faggots [...] a Wood-yard, and tye pieces of paper about [...]heir Necks, for all the world, Sir, as your good Housewives in the Country do about their Cordial Bottles, to know them again, and so [...]hey bury them at Spring of the year. Sir, says my friend to him, you seem to be an honest Gentleman, and I don't doubt but what you [...]ell me is true; for I in my time have been a piece of a Traveller, and have pass'd a month or two among the Samoeids, where it is so excessive cold, that as in Italy and other hot Coun [...]ries, they forbid the Priests to preach out of [...]he Canticles during Iuly and August, for fear of putting some odd whimsies into the heads of the people: So here, the Patriarch of Mosco forbids [...]ll the Clergy, under pain of suspension, not to make the least mention of the roasting that is used in the other world, lest they shou'd set all [...]heir Congregations a longing to be there. In [...]hort, Noble Captain, the Parsons take as much [...]are to conceal the Doctrine of H—ll fire, for [...]he reason above mention'd, from the poor Inhabitants of this Country, as they do the Bible from the Laity in Spain. The Captain graciously [...]hanked my friend for his News, and so they parted.—
One wou'd be apt to imagin 'twas in such weather as this that David penn'd the Psalm, where he advises people to look to their ways. [Page 156] The Streets are so excessive slippery, that a man runs thro half the dangers of an East India Voyage, in passing only from Temple-bar to the Change in a Coach, and if he ventures it on foot, he [...]s obliged to walk with the same precaution upon the King's Highway, as your Fellows in Bartholomew-Fair manage themselves upon the high Rope. For want of observing this direction, a Country Gentlewoman t'other day met with a sad mischance at the corner of Fetter-lane, for up flew her heels, and off came her Commode, and she unluckily discovered a hideou [...] breach in her Fabrick, at which two Foot-Soldiers ran away in a fright, and a grave Citizen that passed by was exceedingly scandalized. The Physicians and Chyrurgeons however are no losers by this Season, for what between Ptysick and Fevers, (which really make a handsome figure in the weekly Bill) and those providential Blessings call'd broken Arms and Legs, both professions find as much employment, as Dr Oate [...] will tell you the Pimps had at White-hall in the Reign of King C. the second. Our Divines need not be over nice as to what they preach; for there is such everlasting barking in the Churche [...], that tho the Parson had the lung▪ of twenty Trumpeters, yet 'twere impossible to understand a syllable he says. Some Ptysicky old Gentleman leads up a Cough, his next Neighbour immediately takes the hint from him, [...] [Page 157] [...]hird pursues it, and so the Snow-ball rowls mer [...]ily on, till at last the whole Congregation [...]oyns in the Chorus, and one side of the Church answers the other as regularly and harmoniously, as two contending Nightingales in a Hedge, or [...]he Vicars in the new Quire at Pauls. The Thames is in great danger of being made a Captive, and of wearing Fetters, which he gene [...]ously endeavours to throw off every Tide; and never was so true an emblem as now of that noble spirited Island, of which he is the defence as well as ornament, which can never have chains put upon it of any continuance.
I am sorry to find by your last that your Neighbour Mr H— grows fat upon Marriage, [...]or I don't see how he can answer it to his conscience. Mar [...]iage is a lean, hungry, craving [...]oil, on which he that can batten, may raise an Estate in Scotland, or recover from an Ague by [...]emoving into the Hundreds. Ecclesiastical Hi [...]tory tells us of a Bishop that suspended one of [...]is Priests for no Crime, but because he had a [...]ouble Chin. That Prelate cou [...]d not be per [...]waded that his Curate preached, and prayed, and minded the business of his Parish, so long [...]s he carried such an unapostolical badge about [...]im. Pray acquaint your friend Mr H— with this adventure of the double Chin, and [...]ell him from me, that neither Canon, nor Civil, [Page 156] [...] [Page 157] [...] [Page 160] nor Common Law, will justify him in making a Sinecure of his Wife. I am,
SOME REMARKS UPON MARRIAGE.
MArriage being the Port, or Haven, at which most of the Sons and Daughters of [...] design to touch, sooner or latter; 'tis no wonder that People are universally curious, to know how this ticklish Ceremony is performed in othe [...] Countries. We find here at home that the firs [...] place in the Common-Prayer Book that youn [...] Maidens generally dip in, is the Service o [...] Matrimony. I once knew a raw Girl that cou'd readily make all the Responses in that Office before she could Answer to one Question in he [...] Catechism. Which occasion'd her Father, who [Page 161] was a grave old Gentleman, to wish that those of her Sex would take as much care to prepare [...]hemselves for their latter, as for this their first [...]nd, for so it proves to most of them.
It has been frequently said that Marriage and Hanging go by Destiny, but, for my part, I am [...]o Predestinarian; neither do I believe, with [...]he rest of the World, that Matches are made [...]n Heaven, any more than I believe that all Oxen [...]re bought and sold there, before they come to Smithfield Market. But tho' I am no admirer of Destiny, as I said before, yet I would not [...]ave any one infer from thence, that I believe [...]here's no manner of resemblance between Hang [...]ng and Marrying: For Hanging, with Reve [...]ence be it spoken, as well as Marrying, is per [...]ormed by tying a Knot, which death only dissolves, and then they agree too in this particu [...]ar, (which is more suitable to the occasion of [...]he Book) that all civiliz'd Countries in the World observe different Fashions in one no less [...]han the other.
The Roman Catholicks make a Sacrament of [...]atrimony, and in consequence of that Notion, [...]etend it confers Grace. The Protestant Di [...]ines don't carry Matters so high, but say this [...]ught to be understood in a qualified Sense, and [...]hat Marriage so far confers Grace, as generally [...]peaking, it confers Repentance, which every [...]ody knows is a step to Grace.
[Page 160]It must be confess'd on all hands, that Marriage is the most serious Action that a Man can engage in, and therefore we ought to think of it, as we do of our Latter End, with Fear and Trembling. For this reason, I cannot endure to hear people pass their ill natur [...]d jests, upon so holy an Ordinance. If it is a Mans good fortune to meet with a good Wife, he ought to date his happiness is this World from that very Moment; and if she proves not as he desires; he ought to look over the Catalogue of his Sins, and interpret it as a Visitation, or at least to take i [...] patiently. For my part, commend me to tha [...] Gentleman, who having married a Lady, of a [...] extraordinary Capacity, never complained of hi [...] fate, nor made his Spouse uneasy, but honestly thank'd God, that now he had a hole to [...] his Head in.
The Ladies that read a Book call'd Marriag [...] Ceremonies, will find sufficient reason to than [...] Providence, that they were born in so good natur'd an Island as ours is, where the Preliminarie [...] to Marriage are nothing near so morose and se [...]vere, as they are in some places in the World▪ To give an Instance of this, our Author of th [...] Marriage Ceremonies tells us, p. 51. among [...] Sabrians (a sort of Mungril Christians, that liv [...] on the Confines of Persia next Turkey) the Parti [...] meeting together at Church, the Minister makes [...] Bride swear before the Women, that she is a Virgi [...] [Page 161] As ill an opinion as the World unjustly entertains of our Females, I am very well satisfyed that there are above Forty Thousand Conscientious Wives, within the Bills of Mortality, that would have lost all, before they would have taken so rash and insnaring an Oath. How is it possible that a Woman should positively swear to an imaginary thing, which may be lost (the Lord knows how) between sleeping and waking? This I am sure of, that no Husband was ever a jot the securer, for prescribing Arbitrary and Unlawful Oaths.
Yet as great a hardship as this may seem to be, it is nothing in comparison, of what hardships are practis'd in some Countries, even after the Nuptial Ceremonies are performed. Thus we find in the said Book p. 42. that among the Greeks, of the Women find in the Bed the next day any signs of a lost Virginity, they make a great Feast; but when that is wanting, they say nothing, the Bridegroom sending back the Bride to her Relations and Friends. The same inhuman Custom, is likewise observ'd by the Persians, as the Reader may see, p. 64. by the Moors of the Morocco, p. 73. the Inhabitants of the Kingdom of Fez, p. 75. by those of Algiers and Tunis p. 79, by the Spaniards who retain this Custom from the Moors, p. 22. and [...]ately by the Jews in Barbary As for the latter [...] don't wonder at it, to find such an usage among [...]hem, because they were stiff-necked people, [Page 162] that was always demanding Signs, and Tokens; nor among Infidels and Mahometans; but that any Christians, that are happily freed from the Levitical Bondage, should still hanker after the old superstitious Leaven, is matter of the greatest astonishment to me. I cannot but reflect with horrour, how many Ladies in England that now live comfortably with their Husbands, and are blessed with a numerous issue, had been Shamefully discarded and sent home, if ever such an unrighteous Fashion as this had got footing among us. It seems to argue a great deal of Cruelty in the Men, that they shou'd relish no pleasure but what comes at the expence of their dearest Consorts. But it is my daily Prayer, that Providence will protect the Freeborn Women of England, from such bloody minded Husbands.
But tho' the greatest part of the World, are so extravagantly fond of Virginity, yet we find there are some People that have other Notions of things. Our said Author p. 88. accquaints us, that when one of Conchin Marries, whosoever he is, he may not lie with his Bride the first Night, but is obliged to give her to a Bramino, who lies with her, and that they believe this to be a favour and a good Omen. I hope their Parishes in this Country are not of a large extent, otherwise the Priest has more Work upon his Hands, than he will go through with, unless he keeps a Curate [Page 163] or two to relieve him, when Marriages come in thick. The holders forth of our Conventicles, affect to be thought great pains-takers, and really deserve the name, for their Bands will testify for them both in the Dog-days, and out of the Dog-days, that they Sweat exceedingly. But, Alas, what is this, if considered in the same Scales with the drudgery, that these Priests undergo in their Ministry. I have often wonder'd that the Popish Clergy that stand up so stiffly for the divine Right of First-fruits, don't Troop in shoals to this Kingdom, when they Voluntarily pay such an extraordinary Tribute to the Church.
'Tis observable, that in most Countries of the World this Ceremony is perform'd by the Priesthood, who, if they equally pretended to the power of Loosing, as they do to that of Tying, they would have more Business upon their hands than they cou'd well dispense with. Only in Turkey married People are joined together by the Cadey, or Civil Magistrate, and here in England in Oliver's time by a Justice of Peace; the Reason alledg'd for it then was, that none was so well qualified to Marry others as he, who, by his Office was Impower'd to lay People by the heels, and put them into the Stocks.
As I have already taken Notice, Virginity is reckon'd so Essential to Marriage in several Countries, that the poor Bride is Inhumanly dismiss'd, [Page 164] and sent home to her Relations, if she be found defective in that particular; but, in this Author, we shall find, that all the world is not of this humour, in Pegu, of the Marriage Ceremonies, p. 9 [...]. the King, and those of the greatest Quality, lye not the first night with their Wives, but admit others and pay them bountifully, that will give themselves the trouble. With all due respect to our Women be it spoken, I humbly conceive that one half▪ at least, of the married Men in this Kingdom, if they would speak their minds freely, must do their Wives this Justice, as to own that they sav'd them this Porters drudgery, as a Monarch (not inferiour to Solomon for Wisdom) rightly call'd it. Our Neighbours of Scotland, before they came to be civiliz'd, used to lie the first night with the Bride, their Vassal, but now they have flung up such a troublesom piece of State, and make their Tenants drudge for themselves.
We rail at the Church of Rome, and not without reason, for exacting implicite Obedience from her Sons, but alas, what signifies it to take a few Articles upon the Credit of the Priest; but to take a Wife, as our Author tells us they do in Muscovy, and other places, without seeing her once, or knowing what Defects she may have, is somewhat hard upon the Subject. Heaven be prais'd, that here in England we are not forced to buy a Pig in a Poke, nay, there [Page 165] are some married Men in the World, that were as intimately acquainted with their Wives before Marriage, as ever they were after. See now what it is to live under a free Government, and to have Magna Charta on one's side.
To conclude these Reflections, it is my hearty advice, That all unmarried Persons wou'd chuse themselves proper Spouses by the first opportunity, in order to recruit those numbers that have been destroy'd in the wars, and not suffer their Talents to lie buried in a Napkin, for which they must severely Answer one Day. And as for those that are Married, the best way they can take, as I presume, is to live as easy as they can, and following the good counsel of Hobson the Carrier, so to manage themselves, as not to tire before their Journeys end.
LETTER VI. Another Letter to Mr. H—
I Find by your answer, that my advice had not that good effect upon you, which I expected. You still complain of your unhappiness, and disturb your self and your friends with Chimera's of your own creating. If I thought complaining wou'd make you a farthing the better, I wou'd out-weep a Church-Spout, and out-lament a Widow that has bury'd three Husbands, and now laments for a fourth: or if I thought you wanted any Spiritual Cordials, I wou'd send you a Cart-load of Sermons, to teach you that patience, which the preachers of them cou'd never practise. But you are a Malade imaginaire, and Moliere wou'd sooner bring you to your self than a Divine. In short, think no more of the Viper that stung you, and you are well.
You talk much of what people do in Spain upon these occasions. But what have you and [Page 167] I to do with them? Are we to regulate our eating by the sots of Lapland, or to go naked in complaisance to the Salvages under the Line? Had you liv'd in Spain, perhaps I had preach'd revenge to you, and out of my great concern for your person, advis'd you to venture the Gallows, because forsooth your Wife with the sweat of her brows had earn'd damnation. But since you live in a Country, where the people are wiser than to be enslav'd by such foolish notions, pray suffer yourself to be govern'd by the maxims of it. I tell you once more, Cuckoldom is no scandal in our Nation, and if you were the first and ancientest — in England, I cou'd say no more to you. If 'tis the rarity that makes the Monster, you'll never come within the number of them. 'Tis only the marry'd men that are not Cuckolds, that, properly speaking, are the Monsters here, as in Guinea, 'tis not those that have huge Lips and flat Noses, but those that have them otherwise are really the deform'd.
The old Romans, who may be suppos'd to have had as just sentiments of honour, as the nicest Dons of Castile, were guided by wiser Maxims. In case of Infidelity, the Wife was sent home with infamy to her virtuous relations, but no manner of disgrace reflected upon the Husband. Pompey, the Conqueror of so many Kings; Cicero, the Father of Eloquence; and [Page 168] Caesar, the Master of the Universe, had all of 'em Wives that prov'd as errant recreants as yours, yet we don't find that they thought themselves a farthing the worse for it, or that they rail'd at their stars, or flew into such extravagances as you do. Cicero in particular, that has written so many Consolatory Treatises, to relieve a man under all the misfortunes, and accidents of human life, as banishment, poverty, the loss of friends, old age, disgrace, and the like; ye [...] never thought it worth his while to par [...] with one single drop of comfort out of his Philosophi [...]l Aqua Vitae Bottle, to cure the heart burning of a Cuckold. And, Iack, shall it ever be sa [...]d, to the infamy of old England, that Heathens, uncircumcised Heathens cou'd practise that patience, which you, that, God be thanked, live under a meeker dispensation, cannot reconcile your self to.
You'll tell me, perhaps, that the Romans bore this with the greater Resignation, because they cou'd make themselves amends out of the Sex, and marry another Wife as soon as they had dismis [...] the former. On the other hand, I think 'tis happy for you that you live in a Christian Country, where they won't let you cut your fingers the second time with a Knife, as long as the instrument that wounded you last is in being. There's a Fable in Aesop that fits your case exactly, therefore pray listen to it with due attention [Page 169] and reverence. A Shepherd kept a [...]lock of Sheep near the Sea, and observing it to be wonderful calm for a long time, had an itch upon him to turn Merchant Adventurer; that [...]s to say in plain English, a Gentleman liking the outside of the fair Sex well enough, picks out one to his purpose, and resolves to marry. So [...]e converts his Sheep and other moveables into [...] Purse of Money, buys a parcel of Dates, and puts to Sea. That is to say, furnishes him a House, provides a fine suit of Cloaths, goes to Dukes-Place, and marries. A tempest ruffled him cruelly there, (this tempest, Iack, by the by the by, is Cuckoldom) that he was forc'd to [...]hrow his Dates over-board to lighten his Ship; [...]hat is to say, his Wife was so damn'd a Thorn [...]n his side, that he was forc'd to drink her to death, to get rid of her. And thus with much [...]do escapes to shore, and returns to the old place to follow his old profession, that is, breaks [...]p house-keeping, and lives privately as he did before. A few days after, finding old Father Ocean to look merrily about the Gills; that is, [...]ome of the Sex smile and simper, as if they had [...] design to hook him into Matrimony again; A plague take you, says he, for a dissembler: What, your chops water for more Dates, I war [...]ant; but I'll see you hang'd before you shall [...]ave any. I don't question, Iack, but that [...]here are twenty and twenty Women in your [Page 170] neighbourhood that long to be fingering your Dates, but if you'll follow the Shepherd's example, they shall all lose their longing.
Well, we have got over this troublesome point, and now nothing vexes you, but that your Wife shou'd run away with a Souldier, (a confounded Ensign I think you call him) and an ugly fellow too. But this is the most fantastical complain [...] that ever was heard. It puts me in mind of an Irish-man in the Civil Wars, that when he was going to be hang'd, set nothing to heart but that he must be truss'd up in a Halter, and not in a Withe [...] If your House was robb'd, I suppose it wou'd be all a case to you, whether it was a Beau or [...] Chimney-sweeper that did you the honour to rifle you: And in your present misfortune what relief wou'd it be to you that a Blue Garter plante [...] your Horns, any more than a Blue Apron, the Duce take me if I can see. But you I find are somewhat of Bessus's humour in the Play, who comforted himself after a good kicking that hi [...] honour had not suffer'd, because in the first place 'twas a Lord that kick'd him, and secondly 'twa [...] done with a Spanish leather Slipper. In your next Letter I expect to find you lamenting, because the fact was done under a hedge, or upon a ba [...]e floor, and not with the usual accommodations i [...] a Bed. Once more, the fellow was ugly: Why s [...] much the better still, the Cockatrice of your bosome will have the less to say for herself another [Page 171] day, and that ought to be no little comfort, Iack, [...]o one in your case. Besides, it justifies the old [...]aying, that Subjects and Wives, when they re [...]olt from their lawful Soveraigns, seldom chuse [...]or a better. As for her pitching upon a Soldier [...]o be her gallant, I don't wonder at it. The Gen [...]lemen in red, and their Brethren in black, have [...]or several ages been in possession of the Sex, the [...]tter upon the account of their secrecy, which may be the reason perhaps, why they wear the Rose, the badge of silence in their Hats; and the other, upon the score of the mighty performances which the Women expect from them. The Ladies imagin them all to be Heroes, and as the La [...]y formerly believ'd that Black conferr'd Grace and Greek, so they vainly think that Red gives the wearers of it courage and vigour above their neighbours. If we may believe Antiquity, Vul [...]an had a broader back than Mars, and was the [...]tronger made of the two, yet the latter with the powerful charms of his embroider'd Coat, and [...]teenkirk Cravat, so won the Goddess's h [...]art▪ that [...]he was easily tempted to cuckold the poor Black [...]mith. In short, women are like Mackarel, bait [...]ut a hook with a piece of red Cloath, and you in [...]allibly take them.
But to return to the Chapter of ugliness, from which we have digressed, I told you before [...]wou'd make it the worse for your Wife at the [...]e—on, but upon second thoughts, I don't [Page 172] know but she may have a great deal to say for herself▪ You are a handsome fellow, Iack, I own it, but perhaps have convinc'd her by sorrowful experience▪ that as the proverb has it, all is not gold that glisters▪ Who can tell but your Wife has read natural Philosophy enough to know, that where the ground ha [...] the roughest, the most unpromising surface, ther [...] the richest Mines lye below.
After all, whether it is so or not, variety is [...] mighty matter, and much may be said on so fertile a head. People love to alter their hands, th [...] it is not always for the better, a clear instance o [...] this we find in Plautus Amphitryo. Iupiter wh [...] by the high post he stood possessed of, one wou' [...] think should have no gross palate, lies with Al [...] mena the very night before she was deliver'd o [...] two chopping Infants. The Lady for her par [...] was complaisant, that's certain; but Women, ge [...]nerally speaking, are not so refractory as Came [...] are, that when they have got their burden, ris [...] up, and will carry no more: So this is no grea [...] wonder. But what the Du [...]e shou'd bewitch [...] Lover, that had the whole Universe before him to make his Son Mercury pimp for him for th [...] space of twenty four hours by the clock, to pu [...] himself to the expence of a Miracle, to make th [...] Moon and the rest of the Stars do double duty to keep back the Sun, and make an universal di [...]order in nature, and all to carry on a foolish in [...]trigue with a big-belly'd woman? 'Tis agreed b [...] [Page 173] [...]ll the Dutch Commentators, that he wou'd never have done so much for Iuno, his lawful Spouse; [...]n one of her most engaging moments, with all [...]he advantages of dress and art to recommend her; much less under such embarrassing circum [...]tances. What then may we imagine to be the [...]eason of it? Why, that partly variety, and part [...]y the itch of making a Cuckold, engag'd him in [...]his expedition. But all this while I forget that I am [...]leading for your Wife, like the Bishop that was employ'd to write against Luther, and turn'd one of [...]is party.
Thus I have briefly run over all your scruples, [...]nd endeavour'd to make you rectus in curia; but [...]efore I conclude, give me leave to tell you a short [...]tory. A Gentleman of my acquaintance had a [...]enant that rented about some forty Shillings a [...]ear of him. The Hutt he liv'd in was a sad wretched hole, made up of a few feeble poles, [...]over'd with mud, dung, and straw: 'Twas not [...]o be mention'd on the same year with a Crows [...]est, either for the materials, the convenience, or [...]rchitecture of it. The least puff of wind ruffled [...] more severely than a Hurricane does a Ship in [...]he Indies. The discharge of a Gun at a quarter [...] a miles distance wou'd give it a Tertian Ague [...]or a fortnight. Then as for the furniture, it was [...] of a piece with the building, half a score wood [...]n Spoons, with a Platter of the same metal, a [...]roken backt Chair, and what they call'd a Bed, [...]y a bolder Catachresis than is to be found in all [Page 174] Mr Cleveland. It was not so much as furnish'd with a Suit of Grubstreet Tapistry; I mean, a [...] of Protestant Ballads, or the Devil tempting [...] London Prentice, or the Tanners advice to hi [...] Children, or the Royal Family on Horseback, t [...] keep the poor Walls in countenance. The fel [...]low's whole substance was a Bee-hive, half a sco [...] Cabbages, and an Apple-tree in the yard, on th [...] success of which he depended more than the Con [...]—tes on that of a Campaign in Flanders: [...] Tit that sharpt for his livelihood on the Com [...]mon, but as lean as a Projector's Footman; [...] Cow, whose Milk was meat and drink, and he [...] tail an Almanack to the family; with a Coc [...] strutting at the head of a progeny; and a bra [...] of Pigs educated within doors, and serv'd with a [...] much care as the Heir apparent to the Cottage His Music when he came home was to hear a lit [...]ter of young dirty Children squawling on on [...] side of him, and the above-mention'd Messieurs [...] Porceaugnac grunting on the other, and his ran [...] two-handed Spouse, that never had a drop of wa [...]ter touch her face, since the Parson sprinkled he [...] at the Font, by the same token even then it mad [...] her cry out, endeavouring to keep the Kings Ma [...]jestys peace between them. Yet amidst all th [...] poverty and filthiness the fellow lookt merry, an [...] in good humour, snor'd as contentedly at Churc [...] as the best of his neighbours, in an old Sund [...] Coat that had outliv'd six Generations, [...] [Page 175] whistled at his work, and what is more, without [...]ny of the Parish to assist him, once a year got his Wife with Child, as if he breakfasted every morn [...]ng on the Duke of Buckingham's famous Broath. So his Landlord ask'd him what shift he made to [...]eep himself so chearful and merry? Why Master, [...]ays he, when I think of such [...]ine folks as your Worship, that ride in your Coaches, and eat and drink of the best, without doing any thing for it, why then, an't please you, I can't forbear cursing my old Father for begetting me under such a [...]arving Planet: But when I consider how few are in your case, and how many millions in the [...]ame condition with my self, if not in a worse, why then I set my hand to my Plough, and jog on as merrily as I can. Iack, this story needs no [...]pplication; do but think of the millions you have on your side, enough to confound the Turk [...]nd Pope, nay, to carry the whole world before [...]ou, if you knew your own strength; do but [...]hink how many Noblemen and Courtiers you have to lead the Van, how many Cits to bring up [...]he main Body, how many Souldiers to fight, [...]awyers to plead, Physicians to prescribe, and Divines to pray for you, and I dare engage you'll [...]leep heartily upon't, and persecute me with no more of your whining Letters: who am
A Physician of my acquaintance, that ha [...] heard of your misfortune, call'd upon me thi [...] morning just as I had ended my Letter, and les [...] my advice shou'd fail of making a good impression upon you, was so kind to send you the following prescription. If these precepts won't cure you, we must proceed to Topics, and one of th [...] best remedies I know is what follows. When you [...] discontented soul labours with a little Brow-anguish, take a Childs Coral, with Whistle and Bell [...] to it, moisten it with fasting Spittle, and rub you [...] forehead with it ter in die horis medicis. It wil [...] make your Brow-antlers cut easy, for some Cuckolds are as froward under the breeding of Horn [...] as some Children are under the breeding of Tee [...] Once more Adieu.
LETTER VII. To the Reverend Mr. — in Sussex.
I Have had a mind to write to thee this long while, but the misfortune on't is, that a man [...]oes not know how to accost thee, without being [...]t the pains to consult the Herald's Office. Ge [...]on, of tripple-headed memory gave his Subjects suppose the same trouble, who when they came [...]o deliver a Petition to him, found themselves [...] much embarass'd, which of his heads to address [...]o, as I find my self at present, under which of [...]our three capacities I am first to consider you. [...] short, I am told you have got three strings to [...]our bow, that you are a Parson, a Grazier, and [...] Physician. Now which of these is your Top- [...]rofession, I mean that which brings you in most [...]oney, the Lord knows: however hoping the [...]est still of the Church, this comes to tell you Reverend Sir, that I am glad at your good fortune, [...]nd wish you all the prosperity you can desire.
All your Friends here in Town are extreamly [...]leased at your grafting the Grazier upon the Clergyman. You have reduced things, they say [Page 178] to their primitive condition, and joyn'd two trades, as the world makes them now, that liv'd peaceably together long before the Flood. The old Patriarchs, you know, were both Priests and Graziers, and had an equal jurisdiction over their two legg'd and four legg'd Congregations. When Paganism got footing in the World, the case was somewhat alter'd; Then Sacrifices came in play▪ and the Priests and Graziers turn'd Butchers; which noble employment some malicious people will tell you, their Successors have kept up under another dispensation.
But as for your joyning the Physician to the Divine, they are not so well satisfied. Some wonder'd why you wou'd take up a profession that lie [...] under the imputation of being in the hands o [...] Atheists: but Gentlemen, said I, don't troubl [...] your selves for that matter; for let a Parson tack [...] hundred other professions to his own, yet I'll engage that like Oyl among other Liquors, the Clergy [...]man will still float uppermost. Besides, who knows but it was your ill fortune to live among [...] such a refractory perverse people, as Don Diego's were, that wou'd not knock off in any reasona [...]ble time, but lived long, on purpose to spi [...] their Relations, and defraud the Church of [...] perquisites. The Ropes grew mouldy, and [...] Bells were in danger of forgetting their notes so want of exercise, and the grass in your Churc [...] yard for want of being corrected by the Spad [...] [Page 179] grew so scandalously and enormously high, that [...]he Arch-Deacon complained of it at the Visitation. Then the poor Sexton, God help him, finding [...]o employment from the Dead, was in a fair way [...]o be starv'd among the Living, and had as little [...]o do as a Pimp at Newmarket, when the C—t is not there: Then he and you, oh I beg your [...]ardon Doctor, then you and he, under the me [...]ancholy Yew-tree that faces the Church Porch, [...]ll alone like Mr. Drydens two Turtles in the Siege of Granada, coo'd and murmur'd to each others moan, and made as mournful a Consort between [...]ou, as two Seamens Widows in a Brandy shop near [...]he Navy Office. Husbands complain'd of their Wives, and Wives of their Husbands, for sticking [...] unmercifully long to one another, and what is a [...]readful thing to consider, there had like to have been a general insurrection of all the young fellows [...]gainst their most unnatural Fathers for the same [...]ccount. To prevent these, and a thousand other [...]nconveniencies, I think it was very discreetly [...]one of you, to set up for a Physician, and now I [...]on't question but the Bells troll merrily, the Ropes [...]re made tractable with using, the Church-yard [...]ooks like a place of Business, and your Sexton can [...]fford to treat himself with a Capon at Supper.
As I was reading Caligula's life t'other morning, [...]ou came into my head I protest, and I cou'd not [...]orbear to wish, that it had been your good luck [...]o l [...]ve under his auspicious reign. That Emperor, [Page 180] who was not partial to his own species, but hea [...]tily encouraged Merit where-ever he found [...] whether in man or Beast 'twas the same thing [...] him; generously bestow'd a fat Parsonage upo [...] his Horse Incitatus, whom by the by he design'd [...] make Lord Mayor o [...] Rome the next year, but gran [...]ed him I suppose a dispensation to officiate by Curate, because the poor Brute, had a natur [...] impediment in his Speech. So I was thinkin [...] with my self, if this noble-spirited Prince cou [...] present his Horse to a rich Living, what prese [...]ment wou'd he have refus'd to a Gentleman [...] your Ability, had you lived in Rome at that tim [...] ▪ But you have prevented all these wishes in you [...] friends, by the wise course you have taken to ge [...] money, for the Devil's in't if three gainful trad [...] in Confederacy cannot make a shift to keep t [...] French Wolf of Poverty from the door. Som [...] people indeed think you come within the Cano [...] about Pluralities, but that is a jest. They [...] as well call a double chin a plurality, and the [...] the Lord have mercy on the Wicked, and give [...] Bear and Fiddle that scandalous name, which wou [...] touch the Copy-hold of half the Curates in Wale [...] I wou'd fain know why the incumbent, where [...] Benefice won't keep Body and Soul togethe [...] shou'd not be suffer'd to make himself amends i [...] some other employment, as well as your Merce [...] in a Country Village, to sell every thing fro [...] Broad Cloath and Sattin, down to Tape an [...] [Page 181] [...]ick-thread. Besides all the world knows that [...]he Reformation stript the Church of Confession [...]nd several other advantageous points, which [...]ept the Laity in good order; now what cou'd [...]etter supply the absence of these things than [...]he profession you have taken up, since we find [...]he world is so wickedly given, that they have greater regard for their transitory Bodies than [...]eir Souls; so now if any of your Parishioners are [...]stinate, don't threaten 'em with the Ecclesi [...]tical Court, but ply them with Pills, don't ex [...]ommunicate them, but give them Physick, for [...]at will sooner send them to the Devil than the [...]nsure of the C—h.
I that am at so great a distance from you, please [...]y self now and then with the thoughts that I be [...]old you in your own Dominions, with as busy a [...], as a Country Attorney standing at his door, [...]ith a brace of Pens in his Hair; sometimes I see [...]ou in the Pulpit knocking down sin like an Ox, [...]metimes handling of Bullocks in the Market, [...] from thence sent for to feel the pulse of a Far [...]ers plump Daughter in ordine ad Spiritualia. [...]hen out comes the Clyster-pipe, and when that administer'd, the Prayer-Book is lugg'd piping [...] out of the same pocket, to beg a blessing uppon't. [...]he harmony of Authors too in your Library [...]st needs be admirable, Culpepper's Midwife, and [...] Sherlock upon Death, Harvey de lue Ven [...]rea, [...] Burgess of original Sin, Colebatch of Acids, [Page 182] and Twisse of the Gospel-sweets, the dispensatory and the Concordance, a Father and an Urinal-monger. But what pleases me most is to hear, that you are grown the gravest person in all the Country. Whatever you do, keep to your gravity, and that will keep you. Some people I know will call it dulness, and to say truth, dulness and gravity like the two Sosia's in the Play, resemble one another so much, that 'tis almost impossible to distinguish them, but no matter for that; still hold to the Text of Gravity, for the topping men in all professions are protected by their gravity, as the Towns in Holland are by the mud and dirt about them.
Having been told of several of your cures, I wish we had you here in Town, to show a piece of your skill upon an old acquaintance of yours, who is troubled with a dead Palsy on one side, which I am afraid he will never recover of till death, or you come to his relief. I mean poor Harry S— who has lately married the Widow D— For my part I can never see him, but I think of the Embalmer in Herodotus, that committed fornication with a dead Body. St. Franci [...] that was forced to run into a heap of Snow, to correct the insolencies of nature, wou'd hav [...] turn'd as cold and motionless, as Lot's wife at th [...] very sight of her. A generous well-bodied Calenture, such as they have under the line, ma [...] perhaps put her Blood into some motion, but [...] [Page 183] common ordinary Fever can no more warm her, than you can roast a Surloin of Beef by a farthing Candle. By this you may guess what a wretched condition your Friend is in. If there is any thing in your art, that can give this Gentlewoman a civil lift into the other World (for really she is too good for this) you are desired to communicate it, and besides a good round gratuity, Harry promises you shall preach her funeral Sermon, so that after you have destroyed her with your Pills, you may likewise murder her with your Oratory. I am
LETTER VIII. By one of the Commons.
O mihi post nullos.
THo at this present juncture, superos, & conscia sidera testor, I am in no very good condition to write Letters, secessum scribentis & otia quaerunt, because my headakes, accessit fervor capiti, and with last nights [Page 184] drinking my hand trembles quid non ebrietas designat, yet I cannot forbear, tenet insanabile multos, to send you an account of our meeting at the Sun, forsan & haec olim meminisse juvabit, and what happened upon it, Exitus acta probat, but Ill endeavour to be as brief as I can, summa sequar festigia rerum, for I hate prolixity and all its works.
You must know then that a parcel of young fellows of us, in cure curanda plus aequo, jolly toping Companions, sponsi Penelopes, nebulones, who when are we are at a Tavern never cry to go home, fruges consumere nati, met at the Sun to drink some tokens sent out of the Country, O rus quando ego te aspiciam. At first we were exceeding chearful and merry, nunc te Bacche canam, the Glasses troll'd about like lightning, nec mora nec requies, we drank prosperity to old England, dulce & decorum est pro patria, nor was the best in Christendom forgot, spelunca alta fuit, vasto (que) immanis hiatu. So far then every thing went well, hac Arethusa tenus, the Candles burn clear and bright, noctem Flammis funalia vincunt, the Tobacco smoaked agreeably, Volvitur ater odor tectis, but you know the old saying, pleasure has a sting in its tail, nocet empla dolore voluptas, people seldom know when to give off, O quantum in rebus inane, for mark what follow'd, felix quem faciunt, we had the Devil and all to do before we parted, Alecto stygiis caput extulit [Page 185] [...]ris, nothing but bloodshed and desolation, [...]ella horrida bella, and a Woman occasioned it [...]ll, dux femina facti. One in the Company it [...]eems was deeply in Love, omnia vincit amor, so [...]e began his Mistresses health in a bumper, Naevia [...]ex Cyathis, swearing she was an Angel, a Goddess, and I know not what, trahit sua quem (que) [...]oluptas, but his next neighbour like a fool refused to pledge him, quis nisi mentis inops oblatum respuit. Upon which Rogue and Rascal strait ensued, nulli tacuisse nocet, one ill word begot another, verba accusandi genitivum regunt, after which Bottles and Candlesticks flew like hail, j [...]m (que) faces & saxa volant, and some undermining moles in the company, that no body cou'd tell what to make of, incerti generis sunt talpa, blew up the coals to make more mischief, spargere voces in vulgum ambiguas, till at last all of us were hooked into the quarrel, O miseri, quae tanta insania, cives! 'Twas to no purpose to preach up peace and moderation, in campo siquis asellum, for the Wine was in and the Wit was out, foecundi calices quem non fecere? One with his Mazzard demolished, quantum mutatus ab illo Hectore, fell down on the floor, dat gemitum tellus, and lay as flat as a Flounder, procumbit humi bos; t'other with his Nose dismounted, quis cladem illius noctis, fell a swearing like a Dragon, tercentem tonat ore deos, and flung the Monteith at his opposite, furor arma ministrat. A third had his [Page 186] Eyes clos'd up, monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens. A fourth his Lac'd Cravat and Perriwig torn to pieces, quis funera fando explicet. In short, the distraction was universal, poste vacat pars nulla, it reign'd from Dan to Bersheba, ab o [...] us (que) ad mala, for by this time all of us were at pell mell, legit (que) virum vir, but such a noise and such a confusion, good Lord! ferit aurea sidera clamor. I warrant you there was work enough for the Chirurgions, multa vi vulnera miscent, but it's an ill wind, youll say, that blows no body good, aliquis (que) malo fuit usus in illo. At last the man of the house appear'd, vir gregis ipse caper, with a Constable and a mob of Watchmen at his heels, una eurus (que) notus (que) ruunt, commanding us in the King's name to keep the peace, tollite barbarum clamorem, and not to fight like Beasts or Dutchmen over our Drink, pugnare Thracum est: what, says he, do ye think there are no Magistrates in the Neighbourhood, Creditis avectos Danaos, or do ye know my Lord Mayor and the City no better, sic notus Vlysses? Come pack up your Awls, and be gone, ille regit dictis animos, or I shall send you all to the Counter, horrisono stridentes cardine portae. Upon this the mutiny was soon quash'd, omnis pelagi cecidit fragor, we had no mind to be longer at Logger-heads, non ea vis animo, a Prison was no such desirable place, Centauri in foribus stabulant, so the reckoning was call'd for and paid, de moribus ultima fiet [Page 187] quaestio, every one went towards his respective home; sedes quisque suaes, some in Coaches, and some on Foot, scinditur incertum studia in contraria vulgus. But see the uncertainty of humane affairs, omnia sunt hominum, we were stopt by the Monarch of the night at Ludgate, apparent nova Monstra. Crys he, whence come ye; sed vos qui tandem, or whether are you going? Quove tenetis iter. Shall I send one of my Myrmidons to see you home? auxilio tutos dimittam, or will you reign with me in this Elbow-Chair of State, vultis & his mecum pariter considere regnis. By my Faith my Throne and all is at your service, Vrbem quam statuo vestra est. No, said Ned Townly, I beg your excuse, haud equidam tali me dignor honore, I love you, Gentlemen Constables, with all my heart, Od [...] profanum vulgus & arceo, but I have a morose thing call'd a Father at home, est mihi nam (que) domi pater, besides a Mother-in law as mischievous as a fury, Hircanae (que) admorunt ubera tygres. So if you please we'll ev'n take our leaves of one another, worthy Sir, satis est quod sufficit, and thus through so many nocturnal principalities and powers, per tot discrimina rerum, we at last got safe to the Commons, tendimus in Latium.
Had I the Lungs of a hundred Lawyers, non mihi si centum linguae sint, yet were I not able to tell you all my adventures, omnes scelerum [Page 188] compendere formes. But to conclude, this was the issue of this tragical night, haec finis Priami fatorum; but who the plague could have foreseen it, quid sit futurum [...]ras fuge quaerere. However, I shall have more wit for the future, piscator sapit ictus, so begging your pardon for this tedious Letter, veniam petimus dabimus (que) vicissim, I promise you Ne quid nimis shall hereafter be the word, with
LETTER IX. To Madam — kept by a Jew in Covent-Garden
AT my coming to Town, I was supriz'd to hear two things, That the Duke of Savoy had quitted the Confederates and gone over [Page 192] to the French, and (what startled me more) that Mrs Lucy — had thrown off her old Christian acquaintance, and revolted to the Jews▪ Faith, Child, I could never have imagined, that you of all the women in the world wou'd ever have chosen a Gallant out of that Religion, which clips and diminishes the current Coyn of Love, or could ever be brought to like those people that liv'd two thousand years on Types and [...]igures. But perhaps you fancy'd the Nation for Sampson's sake, of brawny memory. If you did, you are like to lose your longing; for you may as well look for some of the race of the two Gyants at Guild [...]hall in Cheapside, as for any of Sampson's progeny in Duke [...]s-place. Some of your Friends alledge in your justification, that you were wholly directed by your interest in this choice, and troth I can't blame you. Our Statesmen and Senators, our Divines, Merchants, and Lawyers, act all upon that principle, and why a poor frail woman should not be allowed the same priviledge, I cannot see. So then, I find 'tis neither circumcision nor uncircumcision that avails any thing with you; but money, which is in reality of all Religions, and you only put in practice what your kind Keeper's Ancestors did formerly in the Wilderness, that is, you fall down before the Golden Calf, which the Rabbies say was some excuse for their Idolatry. Upon this foot [Page 190] I'll allow you to grant some favours to your old Testament Spark, so long as his pot of Manna continues full, and you find him like the Land of Canaan flowing with Milk and Honey. However, in the mean time consider how his Predecessors served the Aegyptians, and let it not disturb your pious Conscience to use him in the same manner. For your comfort, all our C [...]suists agree, that it is no more sin to cheat a Jew, than to over-reach a Scot, or to put false Dice upon a Stock-jobber. And now, old friend of mine, to tell thee the truth, I have a great inclination upon me to be wonderfully loving to thee, and I'll tell thee the reason: if thou hadst kept still within the pale of the Church, I believe you and I knew one another so intimately well before, that I should have lain under no great temptation to trespass with thee. But since thou hast admitted an Interloper into thy Bosom, I have a wonderful longing to beat up his quarters, and am resolved to cuckold this Eleazar, this Aben-Ezra, this Son of Circumcision, only to shew my zeal to Christianity. Therefore meet me, dear Lucy, this very evening in the Pit, for I long to know first, how thou mad'st a shift to pass the Levitical muster with him: and secondly and lastly, to be inform'd whether Aaron's Bells make better Musick than ours.
LETTER X. From a Gentleman in Holland, to his Friend in England. By the same hand.
YOu may imagin I lead none of the most comfortable lives here, when I tell you that I am quartered in a little pimping village on the Frontier of Flanders, where I have no men to converse, and no women to intrigue with. To begin with the former, I am a perfect Barbarian to them, and so I believe I should be, if I liv'd among them till Doomsday. For all I know, they may wish me at the Devil and curse me, when I fancy they are at their compliments. However, this is no more temptation to me to learn their croaking language, than I should have, if I were marry'd, to imitate the jealous Italian in Poggius, who gelt himself on purpose, to know whether his Wife was true to his bed. Then their liquor is so abominable, [...]hat there's no enduring it: rather than do pennance in such vile stuff, two of my Soldiers [...] forced to fill their guts with water every [Page 189] day, and then stand upon their heads a quarter of an hour together, to make themselves giddy, which gives them some feeble representation of drunkenness. In short, I am grown rusty for want of exercise, and pass away my time as uneasily, as a poor Carp that has been us'd to range in a River, does in a little Cistern of Water at a Fishmonger's by Temple Ba [...] ▪ However, I could make a shift to bear the brutality of the men, if the other Sex made me amends, but i'faith they are cold to such a degree, that neither Love nor Wine can unthaw them. I must needs own, I have the same quarrel to the generality of your Women in London, as the Cl [...]rgy have to the Laity, that is to say, they know too much; but a plague on't, the Females here have the contrary fault, and are such flegmatic, stupid Creatures, that a man must live the Age of a Patriarch among them▪ to teach them to fetch and carry. In short, you may sooner teach a L [...]plander Algebra. Tho the Virtuosi may be mistaken in their universal Character, yet [...] thought Love had an universal language, which was understood from Pole to Pole, and that h [...] kept an Exchange in all corners of the Earth where the two Sexes might barter their Commodities; but here it seems this Traffick is no [...] practic'd, tho they trade in every thing else▪ By signs and other motions I can make a shi [...] [Page 193] to tell them what I would eat and drink, but [...] cannot, with all that my eyes can speak, with [...]ll that my fingers can express, make the wo [...]en understand my meaning, so as to relieve [...]y more pressing necessities. Looking once [...]ith a languishing ridiculous air, as people in [...]ove use to do, my Landlords Daughter thought [...] was ill, and a Physician was presently sent [...]or, (so I guest him to be, by the Clyster-pipe [...]anging by his side,) but I had the grace to re [...]se the civilities he design'd me. To try her [...]et farther, I put a pledge into her hands, [...]hich the Women in all other parts of the Globe [...] willing enough to exchange, and know the [...]alue of, but she looked upon as it unconcern'd as [...] Cheapside-Cit does at a Cuckold, and returned [...] me back, and yet the Wench was plump and [...]andsome, was past twenty, and seemed to be [...]ade of the same good natured materials, with [...]he Women in England. 'Tis a common saying, [...]ut untrue, that no Nation is so barbarous, but [...]ove and Religion have got footing in it. If [...]e may believe our modern Travellers, the [...]otantots have no Religon, and I have found [...]y sorrowful experience, that the Dutch Wo [...]en have no tast of Love; whether this proceeds [...]om their natural coldness, which produces [...]he same effects here, that Grace does in other [...]aces, or whether their business, to which they [...]re no less bred, than the men, proves too prevalent [Page 194] for all amorous impressions, I can't tell; but this is certain, that as a modern Author expresses himself, we find among these Pagan people un certain usage de pruderie quasi generalement ètabliet je ne scaj quelle vielle tradition de continence▪ qui passe de mere en fille comme une espece de Religion. In short, if Love be a Deity, there are no such damn'd Atheists in the World, as in this strange Climate. 'Tis true, in other places those of the fair Sex, may be too profuse in their offerings, but as the Divines rightly observe, Superstition is better than Prophaneness. Those few here that pretend to own his power, pay their oblations to him with as ill a will, as a breaking Tradesman pays his Taxes to the Government. It does not come from any generous principle within, the heart has no share in the sacrifice, and the Soul which in other Countries, loves to assist and go along with the body upon these occasions, is as unconcern'd here, [...] a Tradesmans rake-helly Prentice at a Quake [...] meeting. Not but that there are whores and married Women too in this Country (which may seem to destroy what I have said before) but th [...] latter know no more what Gallantry mean [...] than they understand Arabic; and the former ar [...] such rampant mercenary Devils, that they wou' [...] lick old Lucifer's cloven foot, for a single Gil [...]der. In short, there's not one honest Rahab [...] be found among them, to justify the profession [Page 195] and Love has ne'r a Court in all the seven Provinces, where a man can be heard in forma [...]auperis: which is a sad thing for us poor Souldiers, that are not over-stock'd with the Ready. And then, as I have already told you, those that pass for Maids are such insensible things, that one may succeed much sooner in his pre [...]ensions elsewhere, than he can here make himself understood; or, to express my self in the language of Westminster hall, one may get his Cause tryed, enter upon the Premisses, and levy a Fine elsewhere, before he [...]an put in his Plea here, let him use all the art [...]e can. The young fellows are made of the same unthinking Clay, they sometimes talk of the flames of Love, but 'tis so as we at this di [...]tance of time talk of the fire of Troy, which nothing concerns us. 'Tis next to an Article of Faith with them, that no evacuation is so re [...]reshing as a Belch, that nothing warms but Brandy, and that nothing is worth a mans [...]ourting but Money.
Guess then what a dismal pennance I have undergone in this wicked place; but now, Heaven be praised, my persecution is like to [...]e at an end, for next week we are order'd [...]o joyn the Army at Nivelle, where I hope to meet good store of Champaign, and to make my self amends out of the female recruits that [...]re arriv'd from England. Come Battel and [Page 196] Murder, Bloodshed and Desolation, Fire and Faggot; in fine, any thing but Dutch Women, and the curse of Sobriety. Thus prays
LETTER XI. To a young Lawyer that dabbl'd in Poetry.
YOur friends in the Country, understanding to their grief, that you are infected with Verse-making, by the same token that the spots of Parnassus have broke out upon you in several Love-Sonnets, and a Pindaric Ode upon the Peace, they have desired me, whom they knew to labour under the same distempe [...] formerly, to attempt your Cure, with th [...] same prospect, I suppose, as the people of Spai [...] and Italy employ the Priests to exorcise the Devil, because they are best acquainted with him Take it therefore for an undoubted truth, tha [...] [Page 197] Law and Poetry are as incompatible as War and Plenty, and that the Lawyer and Poet [...]an no more inhabit in the same person, than a Beau and a Chimney-sweeper. The Law proposeth interest for its end, and that considera [...]ion makes its Thistles palatable; but you'll find your self damnably mistaken, if you think to advance your self by the Muses. After you have spent your whole age in their service, you must not expect to have your Arrears paid so much as in Malt-Tickets, or Exchequer-Notes. They [...]ll put you off to one Mrs Tattle alias Fame, the veryest Coquette that ever was, and that prating Gossip will sham you with an Immorta [...]ity-Ticket forso [...]th, which is not to become due to you, till you are laid asleep in a Church-yard; and neither you, nor your Heirs will be a farthing the better for it. What is worse, the nine Sisters above-mentioned, will not only disappoint your expectations [...]s to a reward, but will engross all your fa [...]ours, and suffer no Rivals to interfere with them. Like the East India Women, they'll expect you shou'd prove constant, and bestow no marks of benevolence elsewhere, otherwise conclude to be poison'd by them, and made uncapable of any thing else; and nothing you know is so furious as the revenge of a discarded Mistress. If you design to touch at the most advantageous Port in the land of [Page 198] Poetry, call'd the Theatre, consider how visible the dangers, and how unsuitable the returns are. To please the Ladies, you must take care to lard the Dialogue with store of luscious stuff, which the Righteous call Bawdy: To please our new Reformers you must have none, otherwise gruff Ieremy will be upon your bones. In short, a Poet has as hard a task on' [...] to manage, as a Passive Obedience Divine that preaches before the Commons on the 30th of Ianuary. Then to sit with an aking heart for three long hours behind the Scenes, within an inch of damnation all the while, tho you shou'd come off never so victorious, can you imagine the succeeding pleasure can make you amends for so much pain and anguish. But you fancy the Indies are lodg'd in Drury-lane; and that the Spanish Plate-Fleet is not to be compar'd to a good third day. To undeceive you then, the Theatre is not so overstockt with ungodly Mammon, as you may believe. Rablais somewhere saith, that the very shadow of an Abbey Steeple is enough to get a woman with Child; and I can tell you for your comfort, that the shadow of the Theatre is starving; and the air of it as naturally produces poverty, as that of the hundreds in Essex begets Agues. There was a Woollen-draper in the Strand, that unhappily dreamt but of a Candle-snuffer of the House, who is at least four removes from a Poet, and the poor fellow broke within a week after.
[Page 199]So then, if you have the fear of Interest before your eyes, stick close to the Law, and let Poetry go the Devil. Ovid will be an everlasting testimony of this truth to all ages of the world. His Father, like a wise old Gentleman, design'd him for the Bar, but the giddy Fop flung up that profession, and set up for a Wit; but observe, I beseech you, what he got by the exchange. By some of his foolish Verses he drew the Emperors displeasure upon himself, who sent him a grazing to teach him more manners, and so he liv'd a miserable fugitive, in partibus infidelium, where he had leisure enough to curse the versifying Planet which betray'd him to these extremities. One or two perhaps in the compass of six thousand years have made their fortunes by it, but is this any encouragement for you to betake yourself to Apollo's high road? What man of ordinary sense wou'd hazard his All in a Lottery, in hopes of meeting a Benefited Ticket, where he has forty thousand to one odds against him. Besides, Business and Poetry agree as ill together as Faith and Reason, which two latter, as has been judiciously observ'd by the fam'd Tub-drubber of Covent-garden, can never be brought to set their Horses together. Those poor Rogues, that do Apollo's drudgery, like the Servants that belong to Dr Ch—n's Land Office, must e'n take their labour for their pains, for Apollo and the Dr [Page 200] pay no wages; and they agree in this too, that Paper pas [...]es with both for Ready Money.
On the other hand, the Law has all the baits you can think of to take you. Crowds of Clients to dance attendance at your Chamber every morning. Wealth perpetually flowing in upon you, and all this attain'd with a few qualificatitions; nothing but a strong pair of Bellows, call'd Lungs, and a Forehead of the Corinthian Order, are required. So that if you abandon so rich a soil, to starve upon a barren Common, the very Stones in Westminster-hall, like the blood of the Recorders Horses, will rise up in judgment against you. After all, if you are not master of Philosophy enough to set your self at liberty, and cannot entirely shake off the Rhiming disease, let me advise you as a friend, to trespass that way in private; let not your Mistress, nor so much as your Bottle-companion know any thing of the matter, but when the Writing fit is upon you, do it with as much prudent circumspection, as discreet Thieves when they are going to commit Burglary. Otherwise you must lie under the scandal of being thought a disaffected man to Cook and Littleton, and if that shou'd arrive to my Lord Chief Justices ears, good night to your practice. This is all that I have at present to say upon this head, who am
LETTER XII. From a Vintner in the City, to a young Vintner in Covent-Garden ▪
YOu have done two very adventurous things of late. You have taken a new House, and a new Wife, and all in the compass of a week: not having the fear of some late Acts of Parliament before your eyes, which have made House-keeping so very chargeable. After this convincing proof of your boldness, shou'd you take a Lion by the Whiskers, it wou'd not surprize me. For, Cousin, to deal plainly with you, you have set up in a very perilous time, when tis fall of the Leaf with poor Tradesmen all the year round. The Taxes run high, but never was there such an ebb of Money since the Creation. Drunkenness, the Lord be praised, notwithstanding all that the [Page 202] new Reformers have done to it, still makes a shift to maintain its ground: If it leaves one liquor, it takes up with another, like the Sea, which, what it loses in one place, gains somewhere else. All the Nation, to give them their due, wou'd be drunk if they cou'd, to forget their sorrows; but alas, not one quarter of the Nation can afford to be at the expence of it. The situation of things being thus at this present writing, you ought to manage your self with more than ordinary discretion, if you intend to make a figure in this transitory world.
In the first place, lay it down for a fundamental rule, never to trust, or at least as seldom as you can. But when you commit that folly, let it not be with men, who are protected by their dignity or character, or (what will not be unseasonable advice▪ to one that lives in Covent garden) with the Wits, who are protected from paying by their poverty. The less Faith you have for other people, the more Charity you shew for your self; for let the P—sons say what they I will, never knew man of any profession justified by Faith. Rather than venture that, cheat as much as you can, I mean in a lawful way, and when you have got an Estate then 'tis time enough to think of compounding your sins with Heaven by building of an [Page 203] Hospital, according to the laudable and ancient practice of the City. If you have a mind to be sav'd by your Faith take my advice, do it by wholesale, but never by small parcels. In the mean time get Money and promote Trade, for that (as a wise Alderman long ago observ'd) is the Law and the Prophets.
Secondly, consider, that the Trade of a Vint [...]er is a perfect mystery, (for that is the term the Law bestows upon it,) now as all mysteries in the world are wholly supported by hard and unintelligible terms, so you must take care to christen your Wines by some hard Names, the farther fetcht so much the better, and this policy will serve to recommend the most execrable Stumm in all your Cellar. A plausible name to an indifferent Wine, is what a gaudy title is to a Fop, or fine Cloaths to a Woman, it helps to conceal the defects it has, and bespeaks the world in its favour. Men naturally love to be cheated, particularly those of our own Nation, for the honour of old England be it spoken, and provided the imposition is not too bare-fac'd, will meet you half way with all their hearts. I cou'd name several of our brethren to you, who now stand fair to sit in the Chair of Justice, and sleep in their Golden Chains at Church, that had been forc'd to knock off long ago, if it had not been for this artifice. It has sav'd the [Page 204] Sun from being eclipsed, the Crown from being abdicated, the Rose from Decaying, the Fountain from being drawn dry, and both the Devils from being confined to utter darkness. If your own invention is so barren, that it wants to be assisted, or you have not Geography enough to christen your Wines your self, I advise you to buy a Map of Spain, Portugal, France, and Italy, and there you will find names of places, fit for your purpose, and the more uncommon they are, they'll be the more taking. Neither is this piece of policy only practiced in our, but in most other Trades. A Bookseller to help the sale of a dull Pamphlet, will spruce it up with a most glorious Title, and tell you the Edition is almost sold off, when he has five hundred lying dead upon his Hands. A Perfumer will pretend that his Essences came from Montpellier, or Florence, tho he made them at home. The Glover talks of Cordova, and the Mercer of Naples, till their Lungs are foundered, when both their Commodities were of London extraction. And what harm is there in all this? If the people cannot be pleased otherwise, we must in our own defe [...]ce act as the Nonconformist Divines do, and humour them in their folly. Si populus vult decipi, decipiatur, was the saying of a Churchman, who understood the World so well, that he wou'd have made an admirable Vintner, had he thought it worth his while.
[Page 205]Thirdly, don't forget to commend your Wine, for those very qualities, that your customers find [...]ault with it, like the Poets of the Town, who [...]lways justify those passages in their Plays, for which the Criticks condemn them. For exam [...]le; if they say 'tis sowr or harsh; why, Gen [...]lemen 'tis the nature of true French Wine to [...]e so; if they tell you 'tis small, you must reply [...]hat it has a concealed body; and if they quarrel with it for being heavy and strong, you may stop [...]heir mouths, by saying 'tis so much the fitter [...]or our Climate, and that a Frieze Coat is not false [...]atin in England, whatever it may be in a warmer Country. At other times it will not be amiss [...]o shift your Sails, and use another Conduct. As for instance, A company of well-drest Gen [...]lemen come to your House, and in respect to [...]heir quality and gaudy outsides, you draw 'em [...]he best Wine in your Vaults. Pshaw, says one, what the Devil have you brought us here? damn it, cries another, this stuff is not fit to be served at a Porter's Burial. Then you may ha [...]angue them to the following Tune. Why Gentlemen, this Wine, an't please you, tho it displeases you so much, has the good fortune to be lik'd by other Palates. There's Sir Iohn Squander, and my Lord Topewell, and twenty more I could mention, Senators▪ and men of understanding, that drink their Gallons of it every night: But to say the truth, 'tis not, between friends, [Page 204] [...] [Page 205] [...] [Page 206] true Orthodox. I find your Palats are extraordinary, so I will go down my self, and bring you the Flower of Europe, tho I say it. A small parcel of it came over t'other day: it only grows in one Vineyard belonging to the Monks, a plague on 'em I have forgot the place, the greatest part was bought for the Kings use, against a publick entertainment, and the Merchant befriended me with the rest. But for God sake Gentlemen speak not a word of this, to any of my Customers, you shall have of it for your own Company as [...]ong as it lasts, but if ever this should be known to my Lord, and Sr Iohn, and the W— Country Parlia—nt men, that come to my House, I am undon for ever, therefore I hope youll be secret▪ Then fly down stairs like Lightning, bring up a Flask of the worst VVine you have, take off the Oyl nicely, and present the Glass to one of these judicious Gentlemen. Now observe how the Scene is alter'd. A plague on't, why this will do, says the first. Do? crys the second, spirting it critically upon the floor, this is fit for Angels, and not poor sinful Mortals. Why, Iack, says the third, this is exactly the same Wine you and I used to make merry with on the other side the Alpes. An [...]t please the Lord, cries the fourth, I [...]ll get my full dose on't to night. Master, we are oblig'd to you. Here Drawer, bring me up a Napkin; and then a good Supper is bespoke, and drunkenness ensues. [Page 207] A certain Brother of the Quill, that does not [...]ve full a hundred miles from the Exchange, has [...]ot a brave Estate by this very trick, therefore [...]ee you put it in practice. There are a thousand [...]ther stratagems to be used in our profession, but [...]hould I pretend to recount but half of them [...]ere, I should make this more tedious than [...] Pastoral Letter. A little time and expe [...]ience will soon bring you acquainted with [...]hem.
I have nothing now left upon my hands to [...]o, but to answer the Scruples you proposed [...]o me in your last; which I will dispatch with [...]ll the brevity I am master of. You desire to [...]now whether a Vintner may take advantage [...]f people when they are in their Cups, and [...]eckon more than they have had. To which I [...]nswer in the affirmative, that you may, pro [...]ided it be done in the way of Trade, and not for any sinister end. This case has been so ad [...]udg'd many years ago in Vintner's Hall, and [...]ou may depend upon't. Dont you see how in all other Trades they never scruple to make a penny of a Customer's ignorance. (else how could the Bookseller in Paul [...]s Church-yard, have palm'd Ogilby's Fables with Cuts, upon a Country Wench for a Common-prayer Book, and told her that Aesop with his Beasts about him, was Adam in Paradice) and is not drunkenness, while it continues upon a man, a state of ignorance; [Page 208] Besides, is it not a sin, a heinous sin? and ought not we that are in some measure accessory to it, to mortify and punish it, and does any thing more disturb the Conscience of an English man, than to make his pocket do pennance? After all, if the fraud is discover'd (and 'tis ten to one whether it be or no) the Master of the House is not at all affected by it. A Vintner, like the King, can do no wrong. The Bar indeed may mistake, the Drawers may be Sons of Whores, and mis-reckon, but a Master is not to be damn'd for the transgressions of his Servants. Even General Councils with the Pope at the head of them are not infallible. Humanum est errare, the poor woman at the Bar is but just come out of the Country, or the noise of the Bell, or the hurry of business distracted her. Gentlemen, to make you amends I'll call for my Quart: I'd not do an ill thing for the Universe; and thus the farce concludes.
In the next place you would know how you ought to govern your self in relation to lewd Women that Gentlemen bring to your House: to which I reply; That as Men that have Wives are commanded to live as if they had none, so in this wicked Town, a Vintner that has Eyes must behave himself as if he had them not, and sometimes too he must have no Ears, otherwise damn'd Rogue, and Cuckoldly Villain would make but ill music in them. So long as all this serves [Page 309] [...]or the promoting of Trade, for my part I think [...]here's no great sin in it; this I am sure of, that [...]f it were not for this practice, our Neighbours [...]he Apothecaries and Chirurgeons would fairly [...]arve; and you know we shou'd love our Neighbours as our selves. The worst effect it produces, is in respect to our Wives and Daughters; it sets their mouths a watering, and often makes them wish to be in the Harlot [...]s place. [...] once knew a Vintners big-bellied Wife, that [...]aving taken notice of a painful Whore, who by the sweat of her Brows, had earn'd fifteen pints of White-wine one night with fifteen se [...]eral Men, went ill from the Bar, and nothing would serve her turn, but she must be deliver'd [...]n the very Chair that had assisted so much [...]ornication. But you [...]ll say 'tis against your Conscience. Cousin Iohn, you are a young beginner in the world, therefore follow my direction, and clap a muzzle upon your Conscience When you have got twenty thousand pound in your pocket, you may take off the Muzzle, if you think fit, and leave it to itself. Then you may shut up your doors at nine, look as discreetly as the gravest Hypocrite in the City, forbid singing of Catches in your house, deliver a Gill of Wine through the little Wicke [...] only on the Lord's Day, call the Sunday the Sabbath, strut to the Parish Church at the head of half a dozen notched Drawers lugging a Geneva [Page 310] Bible between them, and take the Sermon in Short-hand, as many of your Predecessors when they thought they were wealthy enough to deserve damnation, have done before you. This is all, from
LETTER XIII. To my Lady — that marry'd an old decrepit Widower.
YOu have used yourself with greater cruelty than the most barbarous Tyrant durst have done, had it been your ill fortune to come within his power. Algiers itself inflicts no such punishment upon its vilest Slaves, as you have voluntarily and freely imposed upon yourself. Mezentius, so execrable in History [Page 311] for tying the living to the dead, reserved this inhumane usage only for his Enemies: As brutal as he was, he never dreamt of using his friends in that manner, much less himself. Yet you, Madam, have thought fit to practise it upon one, who to my knowledge deserved a better treatment at your hands.
All the Town was melancholy upon the news, but especially those who are in the Interests of Beauty, lamented as heartily, as some pious people do when they hear of a Christian Town fallen into the hands of the Infidels. And that we fear is your case, for if a man has no other way of shewing his Faith but by his Works, 'tis concluded by all sides that your lot is fallen upon a person who is as nearly related to an Infidel, as an Informer is to a Villain.
I have lately read over some of the old Martyrologies, where innumerable instances are to be found of persons of both Sexes, who in a fit of devotion practised strange austerities; but none of them come up to you, even of those, who, for the singular mortification they enjoyn'd themselves, have been advanc [...]d to the Calendar by Holy Church.
We meet with frequent instances of young Virgins that have leapt into the flames to make profession of their belief, and courted death in its most terrible mein, as eagerly as other Women do a Coronet and a Title. Some have attended [Page 312] the sick in Hospitals, and in the midst of affluence and plenty, have deny'd themselves the conveniences of life, and mortify'd in Sack-cloth. Some after the Priest has done his office, have refus'd to receive the lawful tribute of Matrimony, and some have oblig'd themselves to a perpetual silence, which is certainly self-denial enough in a Woman. Others have injur'd their own Beauty to preserve themselves from the Courtship of their Lovers, or from the lust of Tyrants. But, alas, what proportion does this bear to what you have done? Death puts a period to all our miseries: but you have given a greater proof of your constancy, by resolving to live. You have confin'd your self to a walking Infirmary, and nothing but providence can give you a discharge. You have sacrific [...]d your youth and beauty, to one that can enjoy neither, nor will suffer others to do it for him▪ like the modern Library-keeper of St. Iames's▪ he will neither peruse your Manuscript, the fairest in the world, nor lend it to others who can make a better use of it. In short, there' [...] never a Ghost in Glanville or Aubry, if he me [...] him a Church-yard, but wou'd take him fo [...] his Brother Spectre. You, and your Husband between you, really undergo two of the seve [...]rest punishments which antiquity believ'd to b [...] in Hell. He, like Tantalus, sees the Fruit ever [...]lastingly before him, which he is not in a ca [...]pacity [Page 313] of tasting. You, like Sysiphus, take an infinite deal of pains to no purpose, to roll a Stone every night, which is no sooner up, but it falls down of itself, and will do so to the end of the Chapter.
Tho I need not exaggerate your own torments to you, who are so well acquainted with 'em, yet as a Divine sometimes explains the effects of Drunkenness to his Parish that know them as well as himself, give me leave to lay down part of the persecution you undergo before your Eyes, that through you the world may know what you endure.
The night approaches, but the night which bountifully rewards the pains of other Lovers, proves but the beginning of your misery. Even the Bed, where all the marry'd world besides find happiness, or at least a relaxation from their pain▪ is the Scene where you suffer most emphatically. That old solemn piece of antiquity, call'd your Husband, leads you to this place of real Martyrdom, but no execution, with his head muffl'd up in an infinity of Caps, and his Lungs, lest Musick should be wanting to the entertainment, are sure to serenade you all night long. Thus he disturbs your repose, but has nothing about him to reward you for keeping you awake. If he has got his Cargo of Wine in his guts, he snores by your side as heartily, as Garagantua and the Monks in [Page 314] Rabelais do after they have rocked themselves asleep, with singing the penitential Psalms. But if in spite of impotence and age, he pretends to disturb you with his vigour, his shot scarce reaches the Walls of the Fortress. Thus your fate is just the reverse of Semeles; she generously expir'd in the arms of the Thunderer, whereas your Fumbler chills you with his warmest embraces; his very flames gives you an Ague fit, and like the weather we have had of late, his Summer has a spice of Winter in it. The mischief on't is, that every day will leave him a worse practitioner than other, and time, which uses to soften other hardships, will daily make yours more insupportable.
What is it then that cou'd induce your Lady-ship to pitch upon so rigorous a pennance, which your very Enemies, (were it possible for you to have any) wou'd never have impos'd upon you? Since your Body can be no gainer by this wicked match, one would imagin you did it for the benefit of your Soul; but Religion produces no such miracles in this age, whatever it has done formerly. 'Tis enough now if people stick to it while they get by the bargain; for few, very few, even of those that wear her Cloath and eat her Bread, will be losers for her.
'Tis, in short, the desire of unrighteous Mammon that has drawn this servitude upon [Page 315] you. You took this nauseous Pill only for the sake of the gilding. That pale-fac'd mettal, to purchase which our Merchants ransack every corner of the world, make you take up with this leaky batter'd Vessel; but with this difference, that whereas they are at liberty to shift their Climate as they see fit, you have confin'd your self to the Latitude of 70, and have settled in a Country, which is eternally cover'd with Snow, and affords no prospect of a Spring. All that your humble Servants can do, is to wish that your Tyrants Reign may be but of short continuance,, which is the daily prayer of —
LETTER XIV. Iune 2.92. To Mr P—.
IF I did not love you better than our Statesmen do a new Plot, a Fop a new Fashion, and the Wou'd be-wits at Wills do a new Criticism, I wou'd never leave a parcel of honest fellows that are now dusting it about, to retire to a corner by my self, and send you the transactions of Hartfordshire.
So much by way of Preface, without which even a Letter to a Friend now adays, not to mention those unwieldy things call'd Epistles Dedicatory, is thought as naked, as an Archdeacon's Hat would be thought by the Country people, without a Rose in't.
[Page 317]I have now pass'd just two tedious months [...]n the Country, and cannot forbear now and [...]hen to cry out, with a little alteration from [...]he words of our beloved Horace,
The effects of this cursed War appear no where [...]o lamentably as they do in these parts of the world. In London you only find it in your Gazettes and News papers. You have the Play-house to divert you, and the Taverns are as much crowded as ever. Here we have com [...]any indeed, and drink; but when we consider [...]ow much the latter is degenerated from what [...]t was in the time of Peace, it palls our mirth, [...]nd we are as heavy-hearted as the Iews of old were at the sight of their Second Temple.
The Wine, in those few places where we [...]ind it, is so intolerably bad, that tho 'tis good [...]or nothing else, 'tis a better argument for So [...]riety, than what all the Volumes of Morality [...]an afford. My Companion, Iack Freeman, who you know is a Libertine in his nature, says [...] ought to be employ'd only in sacred uses, for whatever preparation it deserves before-hand, [...] never fails of giving a man a weeks repentance [...]fterwards. The Duce take me, if in some of [Page 318] my sullen moments I don't envy a London Fly I don't mean an inhabitant of Smithfield or Wap [...]ping, but one that tipples in a creditable Ta [...]vern somewhere about the Exchange or Temple bar. Where this sorry stuff is not to be had we are forc'd in our own defence to take u [...] with Punch; but the ingredients are as long [...] summoning, as a Captain wou'd be recruitin [...] his Regiment. In my conscience the King migh [...] sooner get a Convocation of honest dis-interest [...]ed Church-men together. We must send to [...] Market-Town five mile off for Sugar and Nut [...]meg, and five mile beyond that for rotten Lemons. Water itself is not to be had withou [...] travelling a league for't, and an unsanctify' [...] Kettle supplies the place of a Bowl. Then when we have mix'd all these noble ingredients which, generally speaking, are as bad as thos [...] the Witches in Mackbeth jumble in the Caldro [...] together to make a Charm, we fall too contentedly, and sport off an afternoon. 'Tis true our heads suffer for't next morning, but what i [...] that to an o [...]d Soldier? We air our selves nex [...] morning on the Common, and the sin and the pain are forgotten together.
At other times we do pennance in stale March-beer, which fills and clogs, but never in [...]spires. If it gives any mirth, 'tis sickly and faint like the light one receives from burnt Brandy and our smiles like those of the moody Almanzor in the Play, are hardly to be distinguish'd [Page 319] [...]rom a frown. This course of life we led till [...]ur stock was all exhausted at home, and then [...]twas with us in the case of drink, what it was [...]ormerly between Mahomet and the Mountain [...]pon another occasion. If the drink won't [...]ome to us, we must e'en go to the drink, and that we do with a witness; for we make longer pilgrimages to a Tub of Ale, than a Jesuit would [...]ndergo to make a Royal Convert. Our di [...]ector in these matters is an honest Parson of the neighbourhood, one that has made a shift to get [...] red Nose and a double Chin in the service of the Church, tho he has but thirty pound a year, [...]nd to keep his Palate orthodox, and still in [...]une, he carries the tip of a dry'd Neat's tongue [...]lways in his pocket. He has some acquaintance with Books and Critical Learning, and pretends to have discover'd a false reading in Minutius Felix, which has hitherto escapt all the German Commentators. 'Tis that famous passage non magna loquimur sed vivimus. He says and proves it by the context, that it ought to be bibimus, and has brought us all to be of his opinion. [...]n short, you may talk of your Secretaries of State and Ministers as long as you please, but he's a person of the most universal intelligence I had ever the honour to be acquainted with. No sooner does one Tub decline, but he has his Emissaries to tell him when another is fit to bleed; and thus ten mile [...]ound him. [Page 320] Then we Saddle our Horses, and make as much haste to examine the Vessel, as a Messenge [...] does to seize a Delinquent come from France.
Having thus tir [...]d you with our drinking you expect, I suppose, to have an account o [...] our Women. I was five days in this Family before I saw one female face. Whatever th [...] matter is, they are as shy of being seen by [...] Londoner, as a Dutch Trooper, the modeste [...] animal in the Universe, is of meeting a Frenc [...] Dragooner in Flanders. But t'other morning as I walk'd in the Garden, I heard a squeaking Treble murder a Play-house tune, at least a [...] old as herself; however it was new here; and presently after, a thing in a Commode look'd out of the Window, but as merrily as King Charles the Second peeps out of the Royal Oa [...] in a Country Sign. The Governess of the Castl [...] at last believ'd we were no Monsters, and re [...]solved to give us the honour of her Company [...] never saw so diminutive a Creature in my days when she came into the Dining-room between her two strapping Daughters, that were at least [...] Foot high, she look'd, methinks, like a pair o [...] Snuffers between two Monument Candlesticks After the first salutation was over, she com [...]plain'd of the Taxes, and the sins of the age that occasion'd them; but for all her Sanctity the old Gentlewoman thought it no si [...] it seems, to paint; which she ha [...] [Page 321] [...] on as thick as an Author does flattery [...] a Dedication. The Fucus had be [...]ow'd some r [...]d upon her Cheeks, by [...] same token it made them guilty of a [...] of false Chronology. It made a resem [...]ance of youth amongst furrows and wrinkles; [...] I cou'd not help thinking upon some [...] Varelst's pieces, where you see Winter [...] Summer flowers, that never grow toge [...]er, joyn'd in one Picture. But for all that, was a very godly discreet old Lady. She ask'd [...] a thousand questions about the Funds, and [...] Lotteries, and whether [...]he might dispose [...]er Money safely to the Government? No doubt [...], Madam, The Confederates and we are a [...]undred thousand strong in Flanders. Besides, [...]ussel has play'd the Devil with them at Sea. [...]he Messieurs one of these days will come up. [...] their knees to supplicate for a Peace. And [...] we parted for that time.
A few days after, this old Lady desir'd [...]ack Freman and me to bear her and her daugh [...]ers company to a Wedding in the neighbouring [...]illage. At the very mention of a Wedding [...]e rejoyced as much as the people in Cornwall [...] at the news of a wreck. So down we [...]ent to the Farmer's House, whose heir appa [...]ent was to be matrimonially bound to his good [...]ehaviour. The Bride was a fat fresh coloured [...]ench, well built and ruddy, and a great pains-taker [Page 322] (to use Harry Higden's word) I dare war [...]rant for her. The Husband Elect look'd some [...]what grum upon the matter, as knowing how much business he had upon his hands. To b [...] short, we saw 'em conducted to the Enchante [...] Castle, where the sacred Magician perform' [...] his office; when he came to the terrible word [...] you wot of, the Bridegroom look'd as pale as [...] Parson that preaches a stoln Sermon at a Visita [...]tion; and the Bride, after the laudable custom of her Sex, dropt a few precious tears, and wip [...] them off with her handkerchief. From thence w [...] came back to the old place of Rendezvous where one wou'd have thought the whol [...] Country was assembled to behold the Cere [...]mony; but 'tis an old commendable custom o [...] your mothers all England over to bring thei [...] Daughters to such a sight, to prepare them fo [...] what they must undergo another day; as you [...] Keepers call in their young Dogs at the pluckin [...] down of a Stag, to enter them. All Dinner time th [...] Bridegroom and Bride ogled one another lik [...] Adam and Eve in an old Bible-Cut. Whe [...] that was over, we remov'd into the yard, wher [...] we shak'd our heels in Fresco, and towards th [...] close of the afternoon were interrupted by [...] parcel of Country fellows, with a [...]iddle at th [...] head of them, who gave us a spice of their abili [...]ties under an Elm-tree. When I first saw them move, they gave me an image of Lucretius [...] [Page 323] Atoms, and how they jumbled and interfered [...] the Vacuum. I cou'd not forbear to make [...]nother reflexion upon it, which shows upon [...]hat chimerical grounds people build their sa [...]sfaction. These fellows by the pure instinct of [...]ature, did what Mr Dogget has learnt to do [...]ith pains and long imitation. Yet Mr Dogget [...]leases, and we shou'd hiss these off the Stage [...]or Scoundrels and Blockheads.
A little before Supper we had a cessation of [...]iddles, and our old Lady, whose Piety and Ptisic [...]ade her equally troublesome to herself and all [...] world besides began the discourse with com [...]laining of the strange debaucheries of the men, [...]nd to shew her wonderful charity was pleas'd [...] affirm, that not one man in five hundred [...]at had been bred at London, but had pass'd [...] Chirurgeons hands two or three times before [...] day of Marriage. Well, the Lord be praised, [...] a Gentlewoman newly marry'd that sat [...]ext her, I have no reason to complain of my [...]usband, he is no drunkard, make me thankful [...]r't, nor given to lewd Company, and what [...] of my neighbours can say, I am sure he ne [...]er knew any Woman before my self▪ Sure [...], cries Iack Freeman, rising up and bowing to [...]. For Heaven's sake, Madam, how was it possi [...]le? For Moses, Madam — Pugh▪ Says she, what [...] ye tell me of Moses—With submission, Ma [...]am, Moses was an honest Gentleman, and tho [Page 324] he has set down certain marks by which a Man may know whether his Wife comes a Maid to him—Lord what stuff is here—Yet he no where instructs the Women to know whether the Men have been trespassing before—No matter for that—Did you believe him then upon his own word— I won't tell you whether I did or no—Or did you discover him to be a Virgin, as we do a raw undisciplin'd Souldier—How is that—Why, Madam, by the awkward handling of his Arms, and making his attacks irregularly. With that all the men fell a laughing, and the women blusht behind their Fans. But this was not enough for Iack Freeman, for with an assurance equal to that of a thorough-pac'd Evidence, tho he ne [...]ver saw this womans Husband in his life before, yet, as if he had been one of his old intimate acquaintance, he thus went on—Indeed Madam I can't tell what stories Mr N— might tell you of his own Virtue, and all that, but I knew him perfectly well at the University. He and I▪ Madam, were of the same College; I believe we have drank this room full of Bottled Ale to [...]gether, and we took him for no Saint there There went a scurvy report of him, but I won' [...] justifie it, because Fame's a common Harlot, and a Lyar ab initio. But the report, was I remember, that he was very great with his Bed-maker No tawdry young Creature, I must do him [Page 325] but a justice grave stayed discreet person. A Venerable old Matron upon my word, and fit to have made a Wife for Burgersdicius, if ever you heard of him. She wore about her a girdle, some threescore and ten Keys▪ which when she walked made as delicious Music as a Carriers Bells. And Madam we had a Tradition amongst us, that he seduced this antient Person with Nine-pence; in hard mony, and a pair of blue worsted Stockins, but God sorbid, that I should affirm this, yet for all I know, it may be true. For, Madam, all flesh is frail. Upon this the Company laughed as heartily as before; the poor Gentlewoman looked blank in the mouth, but Supper came very seasonably to her relief. So to eating we fell, then the fiddles struck up and we danced till ten. At which time the old people, taking the Bride's case into their pious consideration, whose concupiscence had stood upon tip-toes ever since the Parson had put her into the Church-pound, took her up stairs, and as Mr. Otway says, dished her neatly in bed. What happen [...]d afterwards you may easily guess.
'Tis a sign you don't know when you are well, otherwise you wou'd not long so furiously to be here only upon the score of the Country Nymphs, as you call them; for I dare engage you'd soon wish yourself at home again. A raw Wench here in the Country, not to recount to [Page 326] you a thousand other impertinences, before you can bring her to bear, will put you to the Devil and all of expence in perjury. All which is sav [...]d in London. The Women there are better bred than to ask it of you, or else know the world too well to depend upon't. Produce but the half piece, and they trouble their heads no farther about you. But here you must run through as strict a scrutiny, as if you were to take a post of the greatest trust in the Government—And my Dear will you be everlastingly true to me—No doubt on't Child—But when you've serv'd your turn you'll leave me for some body else—But indeed I won't—It wou [...]d break my heart if you shou'd—Never fear it—Swear then, my Dear—Why there's no occasion—But you shall swear, dear Rogue, now your Honey bids you, or—So then you are oblig [...]d to part with as many Oaths in a moment, as wou'd handsomely maintain one o [...] the Kings Majestys Garrisons for a twelve-month. Now this is very hard upon the Subject, especially the tender-conscienc'd. Nay to give you the last proof of their ill breeding in the critical minute of joy, when they ough [...] to be all rapture and contemplation, then even then, when they shou'd be wrapt up in holy silence, they'll ask you a thousand foolish questions, as mal a propos, as if one shou'd interrupt a Popish Priest at the Elevation, and ask him wha [...] [Page 327] a clock it is. You complain that the Damosels with you dress too fine, and that a pretty woman, set out in all the advantages of art, is too luscious a dish to feed upon, and as bad as Sack and Sugar. I can answer for no body's palat but my own: and cannot help saying with the [...]at Knight in Harry the Fourth. If Sack and Sugar is a sin, the Lord have me [...]cy on the wicked.
During my stay in these parts, I have reconcil'd my self to all the sports of the Country, but [...]ox-hunting. They have got me out twice [...]pon that account, but if ever they get me [...]gain, I'll give them leave to hang me. For [...] part, I believe some Priest first invented it, [...]ecause it requires so much implicit Faith, and [...]he drudgery is so stupid. A man must ven [...]ure his neck for a thing he never sees, and [...]hen he has got it, 'tis not worth his while. [...]nd this doctrine I daily preach to the Gentle [...]en, but they mind me no more than the Bank [...]rs in Lumbardstreet did the zealous David Iones [...]eclaiming against Usury.
Thus I have plagu'd you with a tedious long [...]etter, which I have not patience enough to [...]ook over again, and going to make excuses [...]or it, am interrupted by the following Com [...]liments —What a plague are you doing all this [...]hile by yourself—Here we have scor'd you [...] Glasses—Come, or we shall lay a heavier fine [...]pon you—Thus I am forc'd to conclude with [...]bscribing my self,
LETTER XV. To Sir Iohn *** From the Cro [...]
WE are at the Tavern, and have your [...] under our present consideration. [...] concluded on all hands that you can neith [...] justifie your present way of living to yours [...] nor yet to the publick, which ought to be [...] some regard with all lovers of their Count [...] You are got into the modern foppery of Keepi [...] and behold what are the sentiments of this h [...]nourable board about it.
Mr . . . . who you know is a Poet, delive [...] himself in the language of his Profession. [...] maintain'd that, whatever the wicked [...] thought to the contrary, a Miss was as [...] inferiour to a Wife, as the Pindaric Muse is to [...] Epic; that one is a Whore without Stay [...] whereas the other is a civil well-bred per [...] that always wears them.
Mr . . . . . who is likewise a Son of Parna [...] desir'd me to tell you, that a Miss and a Wife [...] [Page 329] [...]er only as a single Epigram, and a large Collection [...]f Poems, viz. that a man sooner rids his hands [...]f one than the other. But that, as Martial has [...]ong ago declar'd his opinion in the latter case, ‘Quid prodest brevitas, dic mihi, si liber est.’ That is to say, what the plague is a man the better for the shortness of a Distich, if he obliges himself to read a whole Cart-load of them; so he desires to know where lies the mighty advantage of a Whore above a lawful Spouse, if the Spark keeps constant to her; and if he does not, where is the sense of keeping her in pay.
Mr . . . . exprest himself against the predominant sin of Keeping, to this effect. Of all the vices the present age is to answer for, nothing comes near it, and yet the Sots make merry with Marriage; which is full as ridiculous as if Dr Chamberlain should laugh at the Bank of England for paying people in Paper. If Marriage is expensive, Keeping is certainly more, and with less pretence. I knew, says he, a Gentleman that lov'd Gaming as he did his eyes. One night he lost a hundred and fifty Guinea's at the Groom-Porter's. When he came home he found his Lady in the Parlour, with two Candles burning before her. Lord! Wife, says he, what a strange extravagance is this: Two Candles lighted at a time, and house-keeping so chargeable? But he forgot, [Page 330] it seems, what his shaking of his elbow had cost him that evening. This is the case of all Keepers; what our Churchmen charge the Dissenters with, is actually true of them, they startle at a Gnat, but can swallow an Elephant.
Right, says Harry . . . . Keeping is the greatest Solecism a man of pleasure can commit, If the Gallant is true to his Mistris, it has all the Phlegm, and if he is fond of her, all the expence of Matrimony. In short, I have an equal aversion to Marriage and Keeping. They differ only like Holbourn and Cornhil: Both are streets. But to do Sir Iohn justice, the latter is nothing near so long as the former.
That is as it happens, crys virtuous Mr . . . for I can show you several persons about the Town that parted fairly with their Wives before the first month was over, and yet cou'd endure to cohabit with their Harlots many years. But imagination governs all these matters. For my part, I think of Women as I do of Books, the finest of both sorts will hardly endure a thorough examination. If they find more savour than this, they may thank the Courteous Reader for it, who sees more in them than they deserve. I remember I took Mr Waller and Sir Iohn Denham last Vacation down with me into the Country. I read them over, and what was a consequence of that, I was weary of them. You may laugh at me for a man of a vicious palate, but I can't help that. [Page 331] Before I came to Town I was glad to borrow Wesley's execrable Poem of the Parson of the Parish, only for variety.
Tho I am not wholly of your opinion, says Mr . . . . to him, yet I agree with you that Keeping is nonsense all over, and that for a reason which none of you have yet assign'd. Sir Henry Wooton's Definition of an Ambassador in part belongs to him. Legatus est vir bonus ad mentiendum foris Reip. gratia. And a Keeper is a good man to maintain a pretty woman in fine Cloaths, handsome Lodgings, and all that, for the public benefit of the Commonwealth.
Mr . . . . the Merchant is in our company, who has travell'd abroad, and seen the world: He says that a Whore in the Civil State is what Farthings are in the business of Trade, only to be us'd for the convenience of ready Change. But that a Man, that makes a Whore, if not his constant Wife, yet his constant Companion, and a Government that makes Farthings their only current Money, will soon be convinc'd of the vanity of their politicks. And he said Ireland was lately a sad instance of the latter.
What vexes me most, says . . . . is to hear these Keeping Coxcombs magnifie themselves upon their discretion. I save charges by it, crys one —
Yes, replies his neighbour, they are as much savers by the bargain, as one that goes down to Tunbridge or the Bath, to save his expences in [Page 332] Town. But since this point has been spoken to already, I will say no more to it. Only give me leave, Gentlemen▪ to capp the story of the two Candles, with another like it. A brace of Country Attorneys w [...]nt into a Tavern one morning to take a whet, and because they had not seen one another [...]or a Term or two, they drank to the tune of eleven Pints. At last one of them call'd for a French Roll: Why Brother, says the other, are you not asham'd to inflame the Reckoning? Let the Keepers apply this.
Well, but I scape Confinement by it, says another—I don't know that, says Mr N— for I think a man is as much a Prisoner by a Gout or Rheumatism of his own begetting, as if the Government had confin'd him. What signifies it a farthing to one in this case, whether the Priest tyes the knot, or he does it himself? 'Tis true, the confinement of Keeping does not last so long as that of Marriage, but it devours more in a month than the other does in a year. It's like falling into the hands of the Black Rod, or a Sergeant of the House, where the Fees run so high, that you spend more in a few weeks, than wou'd handsomely maintain you in another Prison all your life. But to see by what Chimera's the world is manag'd. Matrimony is Hell in Folio, because it's a charm that can't be dissolved when a man pleases. At the same time those that Keep can sometimes submit to a confinement full as [Page 333] long and severe; yet bear it [...]asily, because forsooth 'tis of their own ordering. This puts me in mind of the famous Citizen of Paris, who had passed threescore long years within the City-walls, and never had the least inclination to make a step into the Country. So soon as he heard that his Prince had commanded him never to stir out of it, he discreetly dy'd with the thoughts of being a Prisoner. There are Penitents in Spain, who on certain days of mortification lash themselves as heartily as any of our Newgate Rogues are whipt by the public Executioner. 'Tis certain the pain and anguish are the same. But one does it voluntarily, and the other cannot help it. What pretty Salvos a fruitful imagination can find out
Thus far, Sir Iohn, we have given you our thoughts of Keeping in general, without descending to particulars; but now we come to consider your own case more nearly. To the surprize of all your friends, you have pitch'd upon a Daughter of the Stage, upon an Actress, to show your particular favours to; and pray be pleas'd to hear what th [...] company thinks of it.
Mr . . . who next to Mr Rymer is the best Historian about the Town, says that this transaction of your life will be bound up with the Annals of Goatam in the next age; because to pretend to confine a She-Player to one's self, is altogether of a piece with hedging in a Cuckow.
[Page 334]Mr . . . . the Poet first mentioned, prov'd out of the antient Records of Parnassus, that all Actresses belong to those of his Profession; and that if a Lay person pretended to lay his unhallow'd hands upon her, he was guilty of making an Impropriation, and ought to be indicted in Apollo's Spiritual Court.
Mr . . . . of the Temple, who, tho he never goes to Westminster, is nevertheless an Oracle of the Law, pretends that your Case comes within the Statute of Monopolies, that you have done as bad as inclosed a Common, and that all the lovers of Magna Charta ought to break down the Fence.
'Tis but fit it should be so, cries another, for he that pretends to confine a Damosel of the Theatre to his own use, who by her character is a person of an extended qualification, acts as unrighteous, at least as unnatural a part, as he that wou'd debauch a Nun: that after all, such a Spark rather consults his Vanity than his Love, and wou'd be thought to ingross what all the young Coxcombs of the Town admire and covet.
Captain . . . . ended this serious debate. He said, that whoever gave pay to a Woman or a Souldier expected they should prove faithful to him. Now, continued he, to expect fidelity from a Female that has been rais'd up in that Hot Bed call'd a Play-house, is to expect honesty from an Evidence. 'Tis a folly not to be excus'd. 'Tis [Page 335] to bottle up Air, like Shadwell's Virtuoso. 'Tis to wash a Blackamoor. 'Tis to make Dr Otes rectus in curia. 'Tis, in short, to grasp at more than attaining an impossibility; for 'tis impossible to secure any other Woman to your self, but much more an Actress.
Thus we have sent you, Sir Iohn, the opinion of the Committee of our whole House upon this occasion. You are desired to consider of it cooly by your self; and when you have so done, if 'tis possible repent; otherwise do like some of our Divines when they contradict what they formerly asserted, and stand buff to it.
Tom . . . . wou'd have you meet us to morrow night at the Rose, where he pretends to attack you with so many arguments against the Female Sex, that he does not question to make you a Proselyte to the Bottle.
LETTER XVI. The Answer.
I Find I have a whole Posse Comitatus to encounter; but I rely so much upon the goodness of my Cause, that without calling in the assistance of my Brother-Keepers, without giving my self the trouble to repel numbers by numbers, I don't question but that I am able in my own single person to maintain the field against you.
You are divided, Gentlemen, like all other Assemblies, in your opinions: Some of you seem to favour Marriage, but declare against Keeping: Some of you denounce War equally against both, and consequently must set up for Fornication at large. I make this Inference, because my Charity won't suffer me to believe that any of you are such rank Infidels as to discard the Sex by wholesale. If I thought you had any of that complexion among you, yet I should not think it worth my while to dispute them into better sense. 'Tis an old re [...]ceiv'd [Page 337] Axiom, you know, that contra negantem Principia non est disputandum.
As for the former Gentlemen, I mean those that have some respect for Marriage, but are utter enemies to Keeping, they wou'd oblige me to prove that lying at an Inn, where a man stays no longer than he finds himself well used, and the place agreeable, is half so chargeable or foolish, as staying there all one's life, let the entertainment be what it will. There are certainly degrees in confinement, and the Fleet is not altogether so Pagan and uncomfortable a place, as Sally, or Algiers. Oh! but Imagination governs all these matters. If, as we have frequent instances of it in History, Imagination can kill as effectually as a Blunderbuss loaded with a dozen Bullets, deliver me, I say, from the hands of that Tyrant Imagination. But tho this is answer enough to so trifling an objection, yet, Gentlemen, I will prove that there's something more than bare Imagination in the case. A Miss's Patent runs durante bene placito, and she lyes eternally at the mercy of her Patron. A Wife has a Lease of your Body for term of Life, and has no such obligations upon her to keep within bounds. One like an open Town can make no resistance, and consequently has no Temptation or Interest to rebel. A Wife is a sort of a Garrison, fortify'd by Law and Act of Parliament, which the Soveraign can't dismantle when he pleases. She lies secure behind that unrighteous Bulwark [Page 338] call'd a Settlement, which is made as strong as the Westminster-hall-Engineers can contrive it, and tho she's never so plainly convicted of revolting from her lawful Master, and holding an Intelligence with the Enemy, she forfeits neither Life nor Limb; nay, she can challenge a subsistence as long as she lives. This, I think, shews with a witness that there's a vast difference between Marriage and Keeping: but to dismiss this point, were a Wife never so sincere, and never so submissive, yet there's a Duty in the case. Consider what I say Gentlemen, there's duty in the case, in which single word there's dulness and impotence, and death and desolation, and, in short, every thing that inspires horror, and casts a damp upon pleasure. 'Tis as bad as the Mene Tekel on the Wall, the very name carries a Palsy with it. It puts people upon unlawful evasions, it makes them think on other folks, when their thoughts shou'd be at home, and leads them to commit downright Adultery in the Nuptial Sheets.
Even that Pink of Courtesie, Sir Iohn Falstaff in the Play, who never was a niggard of his Lungs, yet wou'd not answer one word when the Must was put upon him. Were Reasons, says that affable Knight, as cheap as Black-berries I wou'd not give you one upon compulsion, which is but another word for Duty. And now we are upon this Chapter, Gentlemen give me leave to copy from you, and tell you a short story. A Nobleman, who shall be nameless, in King [Page 339] Charles the Second's time kept a Chaplain, that was a Rakehell enough in all Conscience. He wou'd break windows, kick and cuff, get drunk and swear, and do all the boisterous things you can think of, as uncanonically as any of his cloath. This fellow had not liv'd a full month with my Lord, by the same token that they kept him as hot as a Glass-house all the while, but, weary it seems of his reception, he came staggering into the Room where my Lord was drinking with some friends; faith my Lord, says he, you and I must part, before George we must. Why so, Doctor, have not I us'd you with all the civility—You mistake me, my good Lord, I love Drunkenness as well as ever a Peer of you all; but a plague I hate the thoughts of being forc'd to mount the Guard every night, I hate to be confin'd to it. You make Drunkenness a Duty, my Lord, and consequently a Virtue, and I'd have you know I hate all Virtue—Pray let me advise you to think of this at your leisure.
I come now to those worthy Gentlemen, who are against Inclosures of all sorts, and fall upon the first Game they can start. Not to call their judgments in question, which they never put to the expence of choosing for them, I wou'd fain be inform'd why a man shou'd be so fool-hardy as to expose himself to the fortune de la guerre, when there's no occasion for it; or what [Page 340] mighty satisfaction there is in coming off with the loss of an Arm or a Leg, when he migh [...] have kept himself safe. Were there no such things as Diseases in the World, and had Colum [...]bus never discover'd the Indies, perhaps I migh [...] be reconcil'd to this sort of life: but as I am a profest Disciple of Epicurus, I wou'd by my good will husband every moment to the bes [...] advantage: for this reason I scorn to take u [...] Pleasure, as young Prodigals do Money, at fifty per Cent. Interest; and 'tis for this very reason that I abominate Drunkenness, the only Pande [...] that can make you swallow intreaguing in com [...]mon, because a man gives half an hours seeming satisfaction, and two or three days real sickness
I am now arriv'd to the last part of my In [...]dictment, where you play all your small shot a [...] me, because I have thought fit to be particula [...] with an Actress. Some of you pretend tha [...] such such a choice has more Vanity than Lov [...] in it. Admit it has, yet I shall never be asham' [...] to act upon so honest and so universal a princi [...]ple. What first set up a Coach and six, but Va [...]nity? My Lady might show herself to as muc [...] advantage in a Chariot and two; and if m [...] Lord wou'd condescend now and then to bea [...] the hooff, as his predecessors did before him it wou'd not be the worse for his Honour health. What introduc'd Perriwigs as big a [...] Hay-cocks, when the Border, of venerable me [...]ry, [Page 341] wou'd have served the turn as well, or what [...]ustifies those Gigantick grievances called Commodes, but variety? In short, what furnishes luxury, and sets off magnificence, what plunders every corner of the world, and puts us upon ransacking every Element, but this very [...]ame inspirer of all our motions, for which you wisely condemn me. You may rail at variety as long as you please, but I wou'd not give a farthing for a Woman, whom all the Town does not desire to lye with. For this reason I wou'd have her frequently seen by all the young fellows, and my self that enjoy her, pointed at in [...]he streets, and envy'd by all that know me. This sets an edge upon a mans inclination, tho it flagg'd never so much before, and makes his Mistress still new and charming, because still desir'd by others. Indeed some of you are pleas'd to call the Play-house a Hot Bed. If this were any [...]eproach, so are the Exchanges, and the Boarding Schools; and so, in short, is all London, and ten miles about it. I was in my passion going to say all the Island; and if I had said it, I think in my Conscience I had not been guilty of Scandal. After all, if the Play-house is a Hot Bed, so much the better: for I have a mortal aversion to coldness, and every thing that resembles it. But to expect Constancy from a She Player! I always thought them made of the same ingredients with the rest of their Sex, [Page 342] and if they have not their Hypocrisie to answe [...] for, I think 'tis a sign of their discretion at least▪ Tis an Article of my Creed, that no Woman i [...] constant but she that finds it her Interest to be so▪ If that cannot keep my Damosel within due bound I shall never break my heart for the matter.
And to conclude this Letter, if I must be cheat [...]ed, which I am afraid is the case of us all, I ha [...] rather it shou'd be done by a Iew, from whom we expect it, and whose Profession it is, tha [...] by a sniveling precise Villain, that has a Tex [...] for doing it. Gentlemen, I am
LETTER XVII. To his Mistress, that show'd his Letters to his Rival. By Mr A—
YOur barbarous and unjust usage of me has had this good effect, tho I am not at all oblig'd to you for it, as to make me a very good Christian. I was in a fair way to commit [...]dolatry, and to pay my adoration in a wrong place, so far had a gay outside impos'd upon me. But, Madam, you have absolutely cured me of this superstitious blindness, and now I can plainly discover the Fiend, where I imagin'd a little before, that nothing but a Goddess inhabited.
Since my eyes have been thus open'd, I can look upon the fairest of your Sex, without finding the least emotion in my heart, and the most beautiful Woman of Heaven's making, affects me no more than one of Sir Godfry's. Nay, in some respect the Copy may be said to exceed the original. It has as fair and charming an outside, but nothing of that vanity and impertinence, [Page 344] nothing of that Hypocrisie, Malice, and Dissimulation, which make up the composition of the other.
I dare appeal to yourself, who are none of the most impartial Judges in the world, whether I ever said, or did, or writ one misbecoming thing to you. Passion, perhaps, which intoxicates no less than Wine, might betray one to some excesses, but still they were to your advantage, on which score you were oblig'd, if not to forgive them, yet at least to bury them in silence. I never approach'd you but with a sacred awe, and always represented a Divinity to my self, when ever I took Pen in Hand, to acquaint you with the sentiments of my Soul. If my incense was not of the first sort, (for I am humble enough to believe, that you might have receiv'd much better from a thousand other hands) yet the sincerity of him that offer'd it, ought to have cover'd him from your displeasure. Tho you dislike my flame yet in common Charity you might have suffer'd it to expire in its own Urn. If you were resolv'd to punish it for aspiring so high, one single frown would have extinguisht it, or at least secur'd you from being troubled with it any longer: but to divert yoursel [...] and my Rival at the expence of an unhappy Lover, who was then bleeding fo [...] you, to publish his infirmities only occasion'd by the violence of his passion, Ol [...] thou downright Devil, I should say Woman, wa [...] [Page 345] cruel to the last degree; and such usage, that the worst of Princes never treated the worst of Sub [...]ects with. But Heaven be praised, it awaken'd [...]very resentment about me, and in spite of my weakness, gave me courage enough to tear you [...]rom my heart, which you had so unjustly usurped.
But I forgot, Madam, that you made me a Christian, so to shew that I am still in perfect [...]harity with you, I hope, and that without any [...]eserve, to see you marry'd to my Rival. Since [...]our vanity takes such delight to be address'd, the [...]ery next day after the Priest has joyn'd your [...]ands, may you receive more Letters from your [...]retended or real admirers, than are sent to a Se [...]retaty of State after the first discovery of a Plot. May you shew them to your Husband, in hopes he will challenge one of the Sparks and fall in your quarrel. May they have that effect as to [...]ly-blow him in the jealous side of his head, but may he never think you worth the while to ven [...]ure the cutting off a finger in the defence of your honour. Still may the Sparks persecute you with [...]heir Billets, and still may he think 'em to be of your own contriving, and treat you accordingly in short, may he and you live long, exceeding [...]ong together, and may providence so influenee all his actions, as to make him an instrument of doing Justice to you, and to the
LETTER XVIII. From a Beau, disswading his Brother Beau to go to Flanders.
ALL the Chocolat-Houses at this end of the Town are exceedingly surpriz'd at the inhumane resolution thou hast taken of passing this Campaign in Flanders, and talk of going into Mourning for thee. Nay, wou'dst thou believe it, those brawny Insensibles the Chairmen take it to heart, and threaten to renounce Flip and All-Fours, since thou hast decreed to leave England. Prithee Tam what have the Ladies done, that thou shou'dst be so cruel to them? or rather what unweildy sins hast thou committed, to be so barbarous to thy self? For my part, I look upon thee to be bewitch'd, for I cannot otherwise account for thy madness. Thou hast no Religion to fight for, that's certain; and there are Liberty and Property-Fools enough in the Nation without thee to help to encrease their numbers.
Lord! what will the degeneracy of this Age come to? That a Gentleman that understands [Page 347] Dressing to perfection, and has spent so many [...]ours at Lockets, and the Blue Posts, to cultivate [...]is Palat, shou'd ever be such a Sot, as in cold [...]lood, and of his own true accord to visit that hel [...]ish Country, where the Burgo-masters and the [...]oors conspire between them to infect the very [...]ir with their Belches. Rot my Diaphragm if the [...]asty word has not polluted my Ink, so that I am [...]orced to put some Orange Water into the Standish, to correct the unsavory smell. Really Tam, [...]o think of the miseries thou must endure this Summer, is as bad as going up to the Monument. It has made me giddy, confound me else, and my head turns round like a Weather-cock. In the first place, to lye in a damn'd sneaking Tent, where you can scarce turn yourself round, with no Curtains to your Bed; nay, not so much as a Looking-glass in its lowest signification: then no other Pulvilio to scent your Perriwig, but the dust of the Plains and Gun-powder, and to stink worse of the latter, than Cheapside did formerly on a Lord Mayor's Day, upon those unrighteous things call'd Marches, no such convenience as a Chair to be got. For your comfort, Tam, you must walk through thick and thin with no Waiter behind you to clean your Shoes, among a herd of skirtless Rascals, that stink worse than Pole-cats. Oh let me think no more of them. Besides, 'tis a million to one, that walking thus in the Sun, will dignify your Face with some Pimples. Horrid and hideous! [Page 348] the very thought of a Pimple has so discompos'd me, that feeling something itch in my Forehead—I must beg your pardon Tam—if being under the apprehensions of such a Disaster▪ I now and then make bold to consult that faithful Oracle my Glass—Heaven be prais'd 'tis not so bad with me—and yet what the Devil means that little spot of red—'Tis well 'tis no worse, I may thank my sotting for this—Dem it, to drink a whole pint of Claret at a sitting—Hell and Furies how it encreases—I would not have a P [...]ple Tam for the Indies— But 'tis gone after all, and I find my suspicions were in vain.
To come now Tam to the Field of Battle, those ill-bred whorson things call'd Bullets, are no respecters of persons. A pox on them, they observe no distinction between a fine Gentleman and a Dragooner. Perhaps it would not grieve a man to lose his life upon a good occasion, (I speak this by way of supposition only) but to survive the untimely fate of one's beloved Wig, to see one's embroider'd Coat mangled and hack'd, is enough to break the heart of Hercules if he were alive, and had a true sense of things. To disswade you, if 'tis possible, from embarking in this pernicious affair, let me conjure you as a friend, to reflect upon Sir Iohn Foppington's Case. About two months ago he put on a milk white Suit, designing to shew himself in it that evening in the Park: and to do Sir Iohn justice, he never [Page 493] [...]xerted the brightness of his imagination so much [...]s he did upon the trimming of it. Coming by Catherine Street, a sawcy impudent Chimney-Sweeper daub'd his Coat. I wonder Tam, by the [...]y, that the Parliament never made a five mile Act to banish such prophane Villains out of all Corporations, as once they did the Dissenting Ministers. But so it happen'd as I tell you, and [...]oor Sir Iohn immediately went home, and took [...]is Bed upon't. He had all the agonies of a despairing sinner—Come Knight, says I, there's no [...]arm I hope, prithee take courage and get up—Good Heavens! my Coat cry'd he—Why there's no danger, but it will recover and do well—Oh [...]hat confounded Chimney-Sweeper — Providence sent him to visit you for your Sins, Sir Iohn—But what ill have I done to draw such a judgment upon me—The ways of Heaven, Sir Iohn, are dark and mysterious. Iack—I never committed Murther nor Sacriledge in my life, why then should — So he run on for above six hours. All this while we endeavour'd to soften his calamity to him, by re-minding him of the inconstancy of human affairs. We refreshed his memory with stories of Kings deposed, and famous Monarchies subverted, but 'twas all in vain; he could not be perswaded to live, till the Scowrer had taken his Oath before a Justice of Peace, that the Coat was not a farthing the worse. Nay, this was not enough, the Taylor was sent [Page 350] for to confirm the Scowrers deposition; and the Woman of the House, who saw him put it on in the morning, must swear as she hopes to be sav'd that it was not in the least injur'd.
If this melancholy instance, Tam, is not enough to deter you from your wicked resolution, and you have no bowels of compassion for the issue of your own fancy, meaning your Cloaths; pray retire for a moment or two to your Closet, lay your hand upon your heart, and ask it cooly and soberly, how it would rellish that most extraordinary accomplishment, a wooden Leg. Think what a decent figure you'll make in a Ladies Chamber, with so fine a qualification. Good Lard, a wooden Leg! 'Tis almost as charming as the Devil's Cloven Foot. A Lover made of Flesh and Blood above, and of Timber below, what an odd composition is that! The Minataur in the Fable, who was half Man and half Beast, was a Cherubim to him. Or Tam, if this does not mortify you, pray consider that there are certain impudent things in an Army call'd Guns, that without asking any questions, will demolish a mans Nose, or run away with one of his Arms, or carry off half his Teeth an Under-jaw, and yet there lies no action against them for it. Such blessings as these are to be had in Flanders, with due care and application; and Tam, you may see several Heroes about the Town, who purchas'd them at no little expence of time and blood at Steenkirk and Landen. But, Tam, if you have any Guts in your Brains, you'll never long to make one of the number.
[Page 351]Having mentioned the loss of Arms, Teeth, and Legs, without which, Tam, we can neither make our reverences with a good air, nor talk agreeably to the Ladies, nor perform our parts at a Ball. If this won't fright you, 'twould be impertinent to put you in mind that you have another thing still to lose, and that is your life. For alas, Tam, what is life worth, when we have lost the only thing that maketh the trifle dear to us? As for me, confound my glandula Pintalis, if I am not of Will Essence's opinion, the greatest Genius that Covent Garden ever produc'd, for exquisite dressing, who us'd to say, for his part he knew not what a mans head was good for, but to hang his Hat or his Perriwig on, and that if it were put to his choice, he wou'd as soon lose that as any other part about him; that the chief end of man was to dress well; and death itself was not so formidable as a Dishabille. But whether does this subject hurry me, or how came that sower monosyllable Death in our Pens way? Faith Tam, I dare trust my thoughts no longer with so melancholy a Theme. So hoping you'll be so kind to yourself, as to consider more of this matter.
The Shoulder-knot Cabal meets to morrow night near St Iames's, to do a singular act of Justice, and to think of ways and means, how to restore those long neglected Ornaments. Your Company is expected there.
The Contents of the Miscellany Poems.
- THe Contented Whore. An Imitation of Ep. 66. in Mar. l. 12.
- Formosa Phyllis Nocte cum Mihi tota, &c. page 1
- Mart. Ep. 20. l. 1. Si memini, fuerant Tibi quatuor, Aelia Dentes. p. 3.
- Advice to a Vintn [...]r. M. Ep. 19. l. 1 The hint taken from, Quid te Tucca juvat. Idem.
- M. Ep. 5. l. 2. Ne valeam, si non totis, Deciane, diebus, &c. p. 4.
- M. Ep. 61. l. 11. Sit Phlogij an Chione venere Magis, Apta requiris? p. 6.
- Hor. Ode 8. l. 1. Lydia dic per omnes, &c. p. 8.
- Hor. Ode 11. l. [...]. Quid Bellicosus Cantaber, &c. p. 9.
- Hor. Ode 27. l. 1. Natis in usum latitiae Scyphis, &c. p. 12.
- To Mr Henry Purcel. p. 14.
- An Ode in Hor. paraphrased, Audivere Luce, &c. p. 16.
- The 10th Ode in Hor l. 3. paraphras'd, Extremum Tanaim si biberes Lyce, &c. p. 19
- The 26th Ode in Hor. l. 3. Paraphras'd, Vixi puellis Nuper Idoneus, &c. p. 23.
- The 15th Ode in Hor. l. 3 imitated. Uxor pauperis Ibyci, &c. p. 25.
- An Epig. in Mar. imitated, Quaeris sollicitus diu, regas (que) Cui tradas, Lupe, filium, Magistro, &c. p. 27.
- Upon Tom. Shadwel. p. 29.
- [Page]In decretum Par. 89. Non de Adulterandis vinis p. 29.
- Inscriptions designed for the Dyal in Lincolns Inn Sq. p. 30.
- An Ep. upon a Beau per idem.
- The Song of Go Perjured Man, set by Dr Blow, Translated into Latin. p. 31.
- To a Lady that would not grant the last favour under cheaper terms than Matrimony p. 32.
- On Marriage per idem.
- The Fable of the Bat and the Birds, in Imitation of that of the Buzzard in the Hind and Panther, in the year 1689. 35
- Against the Declaration for Liberty of Conscience in 87. p. 36.
- A Satyr upon a Quack p. 41.
- An Inscription upon a Tobacco Box. p. 47.
- An Imitation of it in English p. 48.
- Upon burning some Anti-monarchial Books in the year 1691. per Idem.
- To Mr D— on his ballads p. [...]9.
- To Mr Higden upon the ill success of his Play, p. 50.
- The Extravagant Lover p. 53.
- A Translation of Teucer Salamina, Patrem (que) cum Fugeret, &c. H O· 7. l. 1. p. 54.
- O. 9. l. 1. Hor. Imit. Vides ut alta stet Nive Candidum &c. Written in 85. p. 56.
- An Imitation of the 6th O. in H. l. 1. Scriberis vario Fortis, &c. hostium in the year 85 p. 59.
- A Prologue spoken at Oxon. p. 61.
- Epilogue. p 63,
- An Imitation of a Fr. Ode in St Euremont's Works Tom. 2. p. 66.
- To a Gent. that cut off his Hair, and set up for a Spark in his old age. p. 67.
- Part of a 2d Ode in Hor. l. 4. Translated p. 68
- Henrico Higden Arm. cum Infoeliciter Ipsi Comoedia cesserit 1693. p. 69.
- [Page] On the Treatment of the modern Drama p. 70.
- An Imit. of the 4th Epode in Hor. p. 75.
Table to the Miscellaneous Letters.
- A Letter to the Duke of Bucks, by Monsieur St Euremont done into English. p. 129
- To the Dutchess of — by the same hand p. 133.
- To Madam — by the same hand. p. 139.
- Letter out of the Reflections of Monsieur Villiers. p. 141.
- A Consolatory Letter to Mr H— p. 148.
- A Letter to W. K. Esq p. 152.
- Some Remarks on marriage. p. 160.
- Another Letter to Mr H — p. 166.
- Letter to the Reverend Mr — in Sussex. p. 177.
- Letter by one of the Commons p. 183
- Letter to Madam — kept by a Jew in Covent Garden, by Capt. Gr— p. 188.
- —From a Gent. in Holland to his Friend in England. p. 191.
- —To a young Lawyer that dabbled in Poetry. p. 196.
- —From a Vintner in the City to a young Vintner in Covent Garden. p. 201.
- —To my Lady — that married an old dicrepit Widower p. 310.
- —To Mr P— p. 316.
- —To Sir Iohn — p. 328.
- —The Answer. p. 336.
- —To his Mistress that shewed his Letter to hi [...] Rival. By Mr B— p. 343▪
- —From a Beau, disswading his brother Beau to go for Flanders. p. 346▪
A LETTER FROM A Gentleman in the Country, TO HIS Friend in the CITY. Leeds, Feb. the 2d.
I Have at last, with much Difficulty, procured you a Copy of the Character of a Latitudinarian Anatomiz'd, which you have so long, and with so much Importunity desired of me: All I can learn of the Paper is, that the Author Calculated it for the Meridian of York, [Page 2] as I take it, (the Magistrate of which place in the Year 44, was a famous Ambidexter) and that it will equally serve for any Corporation within his Majesty's Dominions; but I will not detain you from it any longer.
A Latitudinarian is a walking Amsterdam of Religions, out of whom all the Ancient and Modern Heresies might be easily retrieved, though the Volumes of Epiphanius and Ross were lost. He thinks no part of a Church sacred but the Weather-Cock, and honours the Memory of him that Invented A Wind-mill, because it can Grind indifferently with East, West, North and South. He talks much of Moderation, yet is as hot as one of his own Custards, and as Choleric as a Hasty-pudding; he's as Positive in his own single Self, as an Assembly of splay-mouth'd Divines; Geryon and Cerberus were only Types of him, but though he has three Heads, viz. An Independant, [...] Presbyterian, and a Church of England Head, yet he has not Brains to furnish any one of them. By his Wisdom and Gravity one would think he had Long Ears, but 'tis certain he has none, for he [Page 3] is Deaf to the Cries of the Poor; and though he devours Widows and Orphans at a Morsell, yet he has no Bowels. His Conscience is as unaccountable as a Modern Hypothesis, which spares Cockleshells in Noah's Flood, and dissolves the hardest Mettals; for it starts at an innocent Ceremony, when it makes nothing to digest Perjury and Oppression. 'Tis impossible to frame an Oath, but what he'l readily Swallow to gratify his Ambition. He calls them State Counters, takes them for his Interest, and breaks them for his Convenience; he calls God to witness, and yet believes nothing of his Existence, like the Fellow in Plautus's Amphitrio, that Swears by Hercules before he was born. Trade, with him, is the Law and the Prophets, and, in opposition to the Text, he's resolved to serve God and Mammon together. Had he lived in the time of Constantine, he'd have gone to the Christian Assemblies one day to save his Bacon, and to the Heathen Temples the next to secure a Stake against a Pagan Revolution. The Men of Gotham are Registred for a pack of Fools, for endeavouring to hedge in a Cuckow. Is it not then a scurvy Reflection upon a [Page 4] certain wise City's care for Religion, to pitch upon a Chameleon for its Head, who changes his Colour as often as he shifts his place? 'Tis pitty that our Laws, that Order so honourable a Reward for plurality of Wives, have not made the same wholesome provision against plurality of Religions. He rails at Superstition, and pretends to stand up for the Primitive Church; but though we read that the Apostles were Fishers, they were not Watermen, to look one way and row another.
He is very severe against the Bakers, and punishes them upon every Occasion; not for Cheats, for as such he honours them, but only to show his Skill in the History of the Bible, where he finds it was one of that Profession that first hansell'd the Gallows. He designs to adorn the Annals of his Government with something Extraordinary, and to purchase a Name as Herostratus did of old, by Inflaming the Church. Stow and Hollingshead that took such pains to describe Calves with six Legs, and all unnatural Births; if they had lived in our Age, What a strange Account would [Page 5] they have given of this Triple-headed Beast, that exceeds all the Monsters that ever were shown in Bartholomew Fair, that ever Afric or Holland produced?
When his Dullness is mounted on Horseback, he makes me think of some Ancient Coats of Arms, where the Supporters are of the same Species with the Beasts in the Scutcheon. If the City, to give another Instance of their Discretion, should chuse B [...]ll to succeed his Master, as we find Caligula once design'd his Horse for the Consulship, I dare Engage for Ball, that he'l make the soberer Magistrate of the two; and after he has had his Belly full of Hay and Oats in the Morning, that he won't kick, and winch, and keep a pother to be carried to Brewer's Grains, and Chopt Straw, in the Afternoon.
Whatever he may be to the rest of his Servants, his Cook leads a very easy Life with him, and has as little to do all the Year round as a Barber in Muscovy, a Lord Treasurer in Scotland, [Page 6] or a Taylor under the Line where they all go Naked. He preaches up Temperance at his own Table, but is Harpy incarnate when he can Devour on Free-cost, and hates no Sins but those that are Expensive. He shews his Charity to the Poor, by providing Prison-room for them; and for fear they should Dye of Surfeits, takes care to let them Blood with a Dog-whip.
In his own single Self, he out-does all the strange Changes in Ovid's Metamorphosis. Oedipus himself, were he alive, could never unriddle him. The Satyr that quarrel'd with the Fellow in the Fable, for blowing Hot and Cold successively with the same Breath, What would he say to our Flea-bitten Magistrate, that can do both at the same Instant? If he varied his Body, as often as his Soul tacks about, no Taylor could fit this Posture Clark in Religion, but he that made a Manteau for the Moon. In vain he promotes a Reformation, who ought to begin it at home, and stands up for the Sabbath, which no one profanes like himself, for he Teach [...]s more Atheisme by his Example, than all the [Page 7] Parsons in the City can ever hope to preach down. He is of several Churches, but of no Religion, as we say of Hermaphrodites, that by being of both Sexes, they are indeed of none, and can neither conveniently receive Love, as Women, nor Act it vigorously, as Men. He pretends to hate Divisions, and yet encourages Schism, which he foolishly judges to be Expedient for the State, as the Women on the other side of the Tweed refuse to be cured of the Itch, because, forsooth, it is wholsome.
Nebuchadnezzar's Image had a Head of Gold, and Feet of Clay. Our Idol has a Skull as soft as Pap, to a Face of Brass, and Arms of Iron. Having mention'd Brass, commend me to that Murus Aheneus his Conscience, which has long since learnt the Trick Nullâ pallescere Culpâ.
I wonder with what pretence he can punish Beggars, who is himself the most inexcusable Vagrant in the Three Kingdoms. If the Pythagorean System of Transmigration be true, the next remove his Soul makes must be into an Otter, or some such amphibious Animal, for one [Page 8] single Element can never content him. He alters his Shapes according to the Company he is in, like those experienced Sharpers, who when they are at Court would pass for Good City Security, and when they are in the City, would be thought to have an Interest at Court. When he thinks his Authority will bear him out, Lucifer is less Haughty and Absolute; at other times he's as Submissive and Humble, as a Temple-Bar Vintner in the Long Vacation. But who would not bestow a Cudgel upon this fawning Cur, that will leap over a Stick for the Pope's Nuncio, and next minute do the same for a Crop-ear'd Tub-drubber?
He goes to a Sermon with the same Intent, as the Prisoners in Ludgate go to the Grate, only to shew his Chain; or, as the Beaux go to a Play, not to Reform his Manners, but hear himself exposed. But though he sees Hypocrisy lashed every Sunday, he stands all the Fire the Parsons flash at him, like a Managed Horse: He's convinced that 'tis a Cowardly Scoundril Sin, yet he won't part with it, because it brings [Page 9] him in Gain: As I knew a Fellow once, that had Aches all over his Body, which punctually foretold all Changes in the Weather, yet could not be perswaded to be Cured, because he would not lose his Almanack, as he call'd it. Had this Linsey-wolsey Brother lived under the Mosaical Dispensation, how finely had he been trounc'd, for ploughing thus with an Ox and an Ass, and dividing himself so nicely between a Cassock and a Cloak. He revives the Story of Penelope, still Unravelling what he had done before, and Unlearning under one Teacher what he Learn'd under another.
The poor Cully in Aesop, with his two loving Wives, one of which clear'd his Head of the Black, and the other of his Gray Hairs, till at last they left him none between them, is a true Emblem of him. The different Churches he goes to will so Weed and Purge him by degrees, that they won't leave him a Rag of Religion to cover his Nakedness. With him, as in the Creation of the World, the Evening still goes before the Morning; for though he vouchsafes [Page 10] his Morning to the Establish'd Church, yet in his heart he's at the Meeting, and his Thoughts still run upon his Afternoon's Extempore Repast. Thus he is guilty of Schism, even when he seems to Assist at the publick Service; like the Man that committed Adultery with his own Lawful Wife, by thinking on another. I never see him at the Cathedral, but he makes me think of an Algerine putting out Christian Colours. Indeed, if the Churches were shut up, something might be said for his going to the Barn, for even Horse-flesh we know was laudable Diet a [...] the Siege of London-derry. If he does it for Variety, 'tis a sign he has a most wretched Palate. Who, but a Coxcomb would go to a Farce in Smithfield, when the Play-House is open? Who, that has Din'd at Locket's, wou'd afterwards Sup among Porters in a Cellar in the Strand?
This last place puts me in mind of his extraordinary House-keeping, though so great a Gormondizer of Spiritual Food, which costs him nothing, yet very little will content him in his own Kitchin. By the power of good management, he can [Page 11] extract three Meals for himself and Family out of one single Shoulder of Mutton, which piece of Frugality he learn'd, I suppose, from the Story of the Welch Sherriff, that converted an old Cloak first into a Coat then a Wastcoat, and last of all into a pair of Breeches. I have heard of a Gentleman, who, purely to save his Money, would take a Coach that cost him Twelve Pence to be Trimm'd by a Two-penny French Barber in Soho. The City perhaps, with equal Discretion, chose him to Husband their Stock; but by starving the Poor, he has put the Parishes to such Charges in Burials, that they are not like to save any thing by him; unless as old Chiron was, both a Tutor and a Pad-nagg upon occasion to Achilles, so they make the Beast serve them in a double Capacity, that is to say, both as their Horse and their Magistrate.
I have been told of a Man that had a very bad Memory, so very treacherous and unfaithful, that if he had made an Assignation in the morning, he was sure to forget it long before the hour came. Well, says he, to prevent this for the future, [Page 12] I am reseolved to buy a Memorandum-Book, But what was he the better for it? He soon after forgot that he had bought any such Director to relieve his Memory. This is the Case of our Latitudinarian: When those of his Party are under Hatches, then all his Discourse runs upon Christian forbearance and Condescention, and never a Passage in the Old or New Testament escapes him, that makes for that purpose. But when they are mounted, and in the Saddle, the Tables are turn'd, and he lays about him like Thunder and Lightning, and forgets that Persecution is the Mark of Antichrist. 'Tis true, all the while he devours you, he cants of Moderation, and pretends he does it unwillingly, but this is only a Copy of his Countenance. He first tears you asunder, as the Iews did Isaiah of old, with the wooden Saw of a dull heavy Speech: But who wou'd not rather chuse to make a Breakfast for a generous Lion, than to be Eaten by a weeping Crocodile?
For my part I wonder that the Priests of the different Churches he repairs to, don't execute a piece of Military Discipline [Page 13] upon him, and truss him up for a Spy. But I suppose hee keeps in with all, by telling them severally in a corner that each performs best; like the Harlot, in the Play, that was kept by three Gallants, and told each of them in private, that he was the Person that gave her the most Satisfaction. 'Tis next to a miracle to me, that the Priesthood, who are so sharp-sighted upon other Occasions, don't see through the thin Artifices of this bare-fac'd Impostor, and dart the Thunder of the Church upon a Wretch who pretends to be a Friend to all, and yet is an Enemy to the whole Tribe. I hope none of the Prophets have given it him under their hands, that 'tis no Sin to go to the Temple of Rimmon. But this present Contending between the several Perswasions to secure him to their Party, gives me a perfect Resemblance of an Ant-hill, where there is the same lugging, and tearing, and struggling about a dead Fly.
In short, our Latitudinarian is a Retainer to all Churches, but a Member of none; and will never have the Benefit of his Clergy, though he pretends to [Page 14] make his Court to all the various Sorts of them. 'Tis an unthinking Sot, that keeps the Streets cleaner than his own Conscience. At last, every Body finds out his Disguise, and despises him; and as several Cities formerly contended who gave Birth to Homer, so, in his case, all Churches and Congregations strive who shall Disclaim him first. Though he has a middle Station here, he must not expect one in another World. Lucifer only can pay him the Wages of his Hypocrisy, in whose Clutches we leave him.
I Am informed that Dr. Otes has been very prolific of late, pray send me down all his Books by the Carrier, for▪ I long to be opening his Magazine of [Page 13] Scandal. An honest Parson in the Neighbourhood calls him Orestes, because he's Scriptus & in tergo, nec dum finitus. Another applies this passage of Horace to him, Ubi quid datur OT I illudo, which he Interprets thus, When any thing of Dr. Otes's Writing comes abroad, I fall a Laughing, and make my Self merry with it.