The Trimmer's Opini­on concerning the Protestant Religion.

REligion has such a Superiority a­bove other things, and that in­dispensable Influence upon all Mankind, that it is as necessary to our Living Happy in this World, as it is to our being Sav'd in the next, without it Man is an abandon'd Creature, one of the worst Beasts Nature hath pro­duc'd, and fit only for the Society of Wolves and Bears; therefore in all A­ges [Page 33] it has been the Foundation of Go­vernment: and tho false Gods have been impos'd upon the Credulous part of the World, yet they were Gods still in their Opinion, and the Awe and Re­verence Men had to them and their O­racles, kept them within bounds to­wards one another, which the Laws with all their Authority could never have effected without the help of Re­ligion; the Laws would not be able to subdue the perverseness of Mens Wills, which are Wild Beasts, and require a double Chain to keep them down; for this Reason 'tis said, That it is not a sufficient ground to make War upon a Neighbouring State, because they are of another Religion, let it be never so differing; yet if they Worship'd nor Acknowledg'd any Deity at all, they may be Invaded as Publick Enemies of Mankind, because they reject the only thing that can bind them to live well with one another; the consideration of Religion is so twisted with that of Go­vernment, that it is never to be sepa­rated, and tho the Foundations of it ought to be Eternal and Unchangeable, yet the Terms and Circumstances of Discipline, are to be suited to the seve­ral [Page 34] Climates and Constitutions, so that they may keep men in a willing Acqui­escence unto them, without discompo­sing the World by nice disputes, which can never be of equal moment with the publick Peace.

Our Religion here in England seems to be distinguished by a peculiar effect of God Almighty's goodness, in permiting it to be introduc'd, or rather restored, by a more regular Method than the Circumstances of most other Reformed Churches would allow them to do, in relation to the Government; and the Dignity with which it has supported it self since, and the great Men our Church hath produced, ought to re­commend it to the esteem of all Pro­testants at least: Our Trimmer is very partial to it, for these Reasons, and many more, and desires that it may preserve its due Jurisdiction and Au­thority? so far he is from wishing it oppressed by the unreasonable and ma­licious Cavils of those who take pains to raise Objections against it.

The Questions will then be, how and by what Methods this Church shall best support it self (the present Cir­cumstances consider'd) in relation to [Page 35] Dissenters of all sorts: I will first lay this for a ground, That as there can be no true Religion without Charity, so there can be no true humane prudence without bearing and condescension: This Principle does not extend to ob­lige the Church always to yield to those who are disposed to Contest with her, the expediency of doing it is to be con­sidered and determined according to the occasion, and this leads me to lay open the thoughts of our Trimmer, in reference, first, to the Protestants, and then to the Popish Recusants.

What has lately hapned among us, makes an Apology necessary for saying any thing that looks like favour to­wards a sort of Men who has brought themselves under such a disadvantage.

The late Conspiracy hath such broad Symptoms of the disaffection of the whole Party, that upon the first re­flections, while our thoughts are warm, it would almost perswade us to put them out of the protection of our good Nature, and to think that the Christian Indulgence with our compassion for other Mens Sufferings cannot easily deny, seems not only to be forfeited by the ill appearances that are against [Page 36] them, but even becomes a Crime when it is so misapplied; yet for all this, up­on second and cooler thoughts, mode­rate Men will not be so ready to involve a whole Party in the guilt of a few, and to admit inferences and Presumptions to be Evidence in a Case, where the Sentence must be so heavy, as it ought to be against all those who have a fixed resolution against the Goverement esta­blished? besides, Men who act by a Principle grounded upon Moral Ver­tue, can never let it be clearly extin­guished by the most repeated Provocati­ons; if a right thing agreeable to Nature and good Sence taks root in the heart of a Man, that is impartial and unby­ass'd, no outward Circumstances can ever destroy it; its true, the degrees of a Mans Zeal for the prosecution of it may be differing, faults of other Men, the consideration of the publick, and the seasonable Prudence by which Wise Men will ever be directed, may give great Allays; they may lessen and for a time perhaps suppress the exercise of that, which in general Proposition may be reasonable, but still whatever is so will inevitably grow and spring up a­gain, having a Foundation in Nature, [Page 37] which is never to be destroy'd.

Our Trimmer therefore endeavours to separate the detestation of those who had either a hand or a thought in the late Plot, from the Principle of Prudential as well as Christian Charity towards Mankind, and for that reason would fain use the means of reclaiming such of the Dissenters as are not incurable, and even bearing to a degree those that are, as far as may consist with the Publick Interest and Security; he is far from justifying an affected separation from the Communion of the Church, and even in those that mean well, and are mistaken; he looks upon it as a Dis­ease that has seized upon their Minds, very troublesome as well as dangerous, by the Consequence it may pro­duce: he does not go about to excuse their making it an indispensable duty, to meet in numbers to say their Prayers, such meetings may prove mischievous to the State at least; the Laws which are the best Judges, have determined that there is danger in them: he has good nature enough to lament that the per­versness of a Part should have drawn Rigorous Laws upon the whole Body of the Dissenters, but when they are once [Page 38] made, no private Opinion must stand in Opposition to them; if they are in themselves reasonable, they are in that respect to be regarded, even without being enjoyned, if by the Change of Time and Circumstances they should become less reasonable than when they were first made, even then they are to be obey'd too, because they are Laws, till they are mended or repealed by the same Authority that Enacted them.

He has too much deference to the Constitution of our Government, to wish for more Prerogative Declarations in favour of scrupulous Men, or to dis­pence with Penal Laws in such manner, or to such an end, that suspect­ing Men might with some reason pre­tend, that so hated a thing as Persecu­tion could never make way for it self with any hopes of Success, otherwise than by preparing the deluded World by a false prospect of Liberty and Indul­gence. The inward Springs and Wheels whereby the Engine moved, are now so fully laid open and expos'd, that it is not supposable that such a baffled Experi­ment should ever be tryed again, the effect it had at the time, and the Spirit it raised, will not easily be forgotten, [Page 39] and it may be presum'd the remem­brance of it may secure us from any more attempts of that Nature for the future; we must no more break a Law to give Men ease, than we are to Rifle an House with a devout intention of gi­ving the plunder to the Poor; in this case, our Compassion would be as ill di­rected, as our Charity in the other.

In short, the veneration due to the Laws is never to be thrown off, let the pretences be never so specious; yet with all this he cannot bring himself to think, that an extraordinary dili­gence to take the uttermost penalty of Laws, upon the poor offending Neigh­bour, is of it self such an all-suffici­ent vertue, that without any thing else to recommend Men, it should Entitle them to all kind of Preferments and Rewards; he would not detract from the merits of those who execute the Laws, yet he cannot think such a piece of service as this, can entirely change the Man, and either make him a better Di­vine, or a more knowing Magistrate than he was before, especially if it be done with a partial and unequal hand, in Reverence to greater and more dan­gerous Offenders.

[Page 40] Our Trimmer would have those mi­staken Men ready to throw themselves into the arms of the Church, and he would have those arms as ready to re­ceive them that shall come to us; he would have no supercilious look to fright those strayed Sheep from coming into the Fold again; no ill-natur'd maxims of an Eternal suspicion, or a belief that those who have once been in the wrong can never be in the right again; but a visible preparation of mind to recieve with joy all the Proselites that come amongst us, and much great­er earnestness to reclaim than punish them: It is to be confess'd, there is a great deal to forgive, a hard task enough for the Charity of a Church so provok­ed; but that must not cut off all hopes of being reconciled, yet if there must be some anger left still, let it break out into a Christian Revenge, and by being kinder to the Children of Disobedience than they deserve, let the injur'd Church Triumph, by throwing shame and con­fusion of face upon them; there should not always be Storms and Thunder, a clear Sky would sometime make the Church look more like Heaven, and would do more towards the reclaiming [Page 41] those wanderers, than a perpetual ter­rour, which seemed to have no inter­mission; for there is in many, and par­ticularly in English Men, a mistaken pleasure, in resisting the dictates of Ri­gorous Authority; a Stomach that riseth against a hard imposition, nay, in some, raise even a lust in suffering from a wrong point of Honour, which does not want the applause, from the great­er part of Mankind, who have not learnt to distinguish; constancy will be thought a virtue even where it is a mistake; and the ill Judging World will be apt to think that Opinion most right, which produces the greatest num­ber of those who are willing to suffer for it; all this is prevented, and falls to the ground, by using well-timed In­dulgence; and the stubborn Adversary who values himself upon his resistance whilst he is oppress'd, yields insensi­bly to kind Methods, when they are ap­ply'd to him, and the same Man natu­rally melts into Conformity, who perhaps would never have been beaten into it. We may be taught by the Com­passion that attendeth the most Crimi­nal Men when they are Condemned, that Faults are much more natural [Page 42] things than Punishments, and that even the most necessary acts of severity do some kind of violence to our Nature, whose Indulgence will not be confined within the strait bounds of inexorable Justice; so that this should be an Argu­ment for gentleness, besides that it is the likeliest way to make these Men asham'd of their Separation, whilst the pressing them too hard, tends rather to make them proud of it.

Our Trimmer would have the Clergy supported in their lawful Rights, and in all the Power and Dignity that belongs to them, and yet he thinks that possibly there may be in some of them a too great eagerness to extend the Ecclesi­astical Jurisdiction; which tho it may be well intended, yet the straining of it too high has an appearance of Ambition that raises mens Objections to it, and is far unlike the Apostolick Zeal, which was quite otherwise employ'd, that the World draws inferences from it, which do the Church no service.

He is troubled to see Men of all sides sick of a Calenture of a mistaken Devo­tion, and it seems to him that the de­vout Fire of mistaken Charity with which the Primitive Christians were in­flam'd, [Page 43] is long since extinguish'd, and instead of it a devouring Fire of Anger and Persecution breaks out in the World; we wrangle now one with a­nother about Religion till the Blood comes, whilst the Ten Command­ments have no more authority with us, than if they were so many obsolete Laws or Proclamations out of date; he thinks that a Nation will hardly be mended by Principles of Religion, where Morality is made a Heresy; and therefore as he believes Devotion misplaced when it gets into a Conventicle, he concludes that Loyalty is so too, when lodg'd in a Drunken Club; those Vertues de­serve a better Seat of Empire, and they are degraded, when such Men undertake their defence, as have too great need of an Apology themselves.

Our Trimmer wishes that some knowledge may go along with the Zeal on the right side, and that those who are in possession of the Pulpit, would quote at least so often the Au­thority of the Scriptures as they do that of the State; there are many who bor­row too often Arguments from the Government, to use against their Ad­versaries, and neglect those that are [Page 44] more proper, and would be more pow­erful; a Divine grows less, and puts a diminution on his own Charact­er, when he quoteth any Law but that of God Almighty, to get the better of those who contest with him; and it is a sign of a decay'd Constitution, when Nature with good diet cannot expel noxious Humours without calling Fo­reign Drugs to her Assistance; So it looks like want of health in a Church, when instead of depending upon the power of that Truth which it holds, and the good Examples of them that teach it, to support it self, and to sup­press Errors, it should have a perpetu­al recourse to the secular Authority, and even upon the slightest occasions.

Our Trimmer has his Objections to the too busy diligence, and to the over­doing of some of the dissenting Clergy, and he does as little approve of those of our Church, who wear God Al­mighty's Liveries, as some old Warders in the Tower do the King's, who do no­thing in their place but receive their Wages for it; he thinks that the Liber­ty of the late times gave men so much Light, and diffused it so universally a­mongst the people, that they are not [Page 45] now to be dealt with, as they might have been in Ages of less enquiry; and therefore in some well chosen and dear­ly beloved Auditories, good resolute Nonsense back'd with Authority may prevail, yet generally Men are become so good Judges of what they hear, that the Clergy ought to be very wary how they go about to impose upon their Understandings, which are grown less humble than they were in former times, when the Men in black had made Learn­ing such a sin in the Laity, that for fear of offending, they made a Conscience of being able to read; but now the World is grown sawcy, and expects Reasons, and good ones too, before they give up their own Opinions to o­ther Mens Dictates, tho never so Magi­sterially deliver'd to them.

Our Trimmer is far from approving the Hypocricie which seems to be the reigning Vice amongst some of the Dis­senting Clergy, he thinks it the most provoking sin Men can be guilty of, in Relation to Heaven, and yet (which may seem strange) that very sin which shall destroy the Soul of the Man who preaches, may help to save those of the Company that hear him, and even [Page 46] those who are cheated by the false Osten­tation of his strictness of life, may by that Pattern be encouraged to the real Practice of those Christian Vertues which he does so deceitfully profess; so that the detestation of this fault may pos­sibly be carry'd on too far by our own Orthodox Divines, if they think it cannot be enough express'd without bending the Stick another way; a dan­gerous Method, and a worse Extream for Men of that Character, who by go­ing to the outmost line of Christian Li­berty, will certainly encourage others to go beyond it: No Man does less ap­prove the ill-bred Methods of some of the Dissenters, in rebuking Authority, who behave themselves as if they thought ill manners necessary to Salva­tion; yet he cannot but distinguish and desire a Mean between the sawcyness of some of the Scotch Apostles, and the un­decent Courtship of some of the Silken Divines, who, one would think, do practice to bow at the Altar, only to learn to make the better Legs at Court.

Our Trimmer approves the Princi­ples of our Church, that Dominion is not founded in Grace, and that our O­bedience is to be given to a Popish King [Page 47] in other things, at the same time that our Compliance with him in his Reli­gion is to be deny'd; yet he cannot but think it a very extraordinary thing if a Protestant Church should by a volun­tary Election, chuse a Papist for their Guardian, and receive Directions for supporting their Religion, from one who must believe it a Mortal Sin not to endeavour to destroy it; such a refi­ned piece of Breeding would not seem to be very well plac'd in the Clergy, who will hardly find Presidents to justi­fy; such an extravagant piece of Court­ship, and which is so unlike the Pri­mitive Methods, which ought to be our Pattern; he hath no such unreasonable tenderness for any sorts of Men, as to expect their faults should not be im­partially laid open as often as they give occasion for it; and yet he cannot but smile to see that the same Man, who sets up all the Sails of his Rhetorick, to fall upon Dissenters; when Popery is to be handled, he does it so gingerly, that he looketh like an Ass mumbling of Thistles, so afraid he is of letting himself loose where he may be in dan­ger of etting his Duty get the better of his Discretion.

[Page 48] Our Trimmer is far from relishing the impertinent Wandrings of those who pour out long Prayers upon the Con­gregation, and all from their own Stock, which God knows, for the most part is a barren Soil, which produces Weeds instead of Flowers, and by this means they expose Religion it self, ra­ther than promote Mens Devotions: On the other side, there may be too great Restraint put upon Men, whom God and Nature hath distinguished from their Fellow Labourers, by bles­sing them with a happier Talent, and by giving them not only good Sense, but a powerful Utterance too, has en­abled them to gush out upon the at­tentive Auditory, with a mighty stream of Devout and unaffected Eloquence; when a Man so qualified, endued with Learning too, and above all, adorn'd with a good Life, breaks out into a warm and well deliver'd Prayer before his Sermon, it has the appearance of a Divine Rapture, he raises and leads the Hearts of the Assembly in another man­ner, than the most Compos'd or best Studied Form of Set Words can ever do; and the Pray-wees, who serve up all their Sermons with the same Gar­nishing, [Page 49] would, look like so many Sta­tues, or Men of Straw in the Pulpit, compar'd with those who speak with such a powerful Zeal, that Men are tempted at the moment to belive Hea­ven it self has dictated their words to em.

Our Trimmer is not so unreasonably indulgent to the Dissenters, as to excuse the Irregularities of their Complaints, and to approve their threatning Stiles, which are so ill-suited to their Circumstances as well as their Duty; he would have them to shew their Grief, and not their Anger to the Government, and by such a Submission to Authority, as becomes them, if they cannot acquiesce in what is imposed; let them deserve a Legisla­tive Remedy to their Sufferings, there being no other way to give them per­fect redress; and either to seek it, or pretend to give it by any other Method, would not only be vain, but Criminal too in those that go about it; yet with all this, there may in the mean time be a prudential Latitude left, as to the manner of preventing the Laws now in force against them: The Government is in some degree answerable for such an Administration of them, as may be free from the Censure of Impartial [Page 50] Judges; and in order to that, it would be necessary that one of these methods be pursued, either to let loose the Laws to their utmost extent, without any Moderation or Restraint, in which at least the Equality of the Government would be without Objection, the Pe­nalties being exacted without Remission from the Dissenters of all kinds; or if that will not be done (and indeed there is no reason it should) there is a necessity of some connivance to the Protestant Dissenters to execute that which in Humanity must be allowed to the Papists, even without any leaning towards them, which must be supposed in those who are or shall be in the ad­ministration of publick Business; and it will follow that, according to our Circumstances, the distribution of such connivance must be made in such a manner, that the greatest part of it may fall on the Protestant side, or else the Objections will be so strong, and the Inferences so clear, that the Friends, as well as the Enemies of the Crown, will be sure to take hold of them.

It will not be sufficient to say that the Papists may be conniv'd at, because they are good Subiects and that the Pro­testant [Page 51] Dissenters, must suffer because they are ill ones; these general Maxims will not convince discerning Men, nei­ther will any late Instances make them forget what passed at other times in the World; both sides have had their Turns in being good and ill Subjects. And therefore 'tis easie to imagine what suspicions would arise in the present conjuncture, if such a partial Argument as this should be impos'd upon us; the truth is, this Matter speaks so much of it self; that it is not only unnecessary, but it may be unmannerly to say any more of it.

Our Trimmer therefore could wish, that since notwithstanding the Laws which deny Churches to say Mass in; even not only the Exercise, but also the Ostentation of Popery is as well or better performed in the Chappels of so many Foreign Ministers, where the English openly resort in spight of Proclamations and Orders of Council, which are grown to be as harmless things to them, as the Popes Bulls and Excommunications are to Hereticks who are out of his reach; I say he could wish that by a seasonable as well as an equal piece of Justice, there might be so [Page 50] [...] [Page 51] [...] [Page 52] much consideration had of the Prote­stant Dissenters, as that there might be at sometimes, and at some places, a Veil thrown over an Innocent and re­tired Conventicle, and that such an Indulgence might be practic'd with less prejudice to the Church, or di­minution to the Laws; it might be done so as to look rather like a kind Omission to enquire more strictly, than an allow'd Toleration of that which is against the Rule established.

Such a skilful hand as this is very Necessary in our Circumstances, and the Government by making no sort of Men entirely desperate, does not only secure it self from Villainous attempts, but lays such a Foundation for heal­ing and uniting Laws, when ever a Parliament shall meet, that the Seeds of Differences and Animosities between the several contending sides may (Hea­ven consenting) be for ever destroy'd.

The Trimmer's Opini­on concerning the Papists.

TO speak of Popery leads me into such a Sea of Matter, that it is not easie to forbear launching in­to it, being invited by such a fruitful Theme, and by a variety never to be exhausted; but to confine it to the present Subject, I will only say a short word of the Religion it self; of its in­fluences here at this time; and of our Trimmer's Opinion in Relation to our manner of living with them.

If a Man would speak Maliciously of this Religion, one may say it is like those Diseases, where as long as one drop of the infection remains, there is still danger of having the whole Mass of Blood corrupted by it. In Swede­land there was an absolute cure, and nothing of Popery heard of, till Queen [Page 54] Christiana, (whether mov'd by Arguments of this or the other World, may not be good Manners to enquire) thought fit to change her Religion and Country, and to live at Rome, where she might find better judges of her Virtues, and less ungentle Censures of those Princely Li­berties, to which she was sometimes disposed, than she left at Stockholme; where the good breeding is as much inferior to that of Rome in general, as the Civility of the Religion. The Car­dinals having rescued the Church from those Clownish Methods the Fishermen had first introduc'd, and mended that Pattern so effectually, that a Man of that Age, if he should now come into the World, would not possibly know it.

In Denmark the Reformation was en­tire, in some States of Germany, as well as Geneva, the Cure was universal; but in the rest of the World where the Pro­testant Religion took place, the Popish humour was too tough to be totally ex­pell'd, and so it was in England, tho' the Change was made with all the ad­vantage imaginable to the Reformation, it being Countenanc'd and introduc'd by Legal Authority, and by that means [Page 55] might have been perhaps as perfect as in any other Place, if the short Reign of Edward the 6th, and the succession of a Popish Queen had not given such ad­vantage to that Religion, that it has subsisted ever since under all the hard­ships that have been put upon it; it has been a strong Compact Body, and made the more so by these Sufferings; it was not strong enough to prevail, but it was able, with the help of foreign support, to carry on an Interest which gave the Crown trouble, and to make a considerable (not to say dangerous) Fi­gure in the Nation; so much as this could not have been done without some hopes, nor these hopes kept up without some reasonable grounds: In Queen Elizabeth's time, the Spanish Zeal for their Religion, and the Revenge for 88, gave warmth to the Papists here, and above all the Right of the Queen of Scots to suceeed, was while she lived sufficient to give them a better prospect of their Affairs: In King James's time their hopes were supported by the Trea­ty of the Spanish Match, and his gentle­ness towards them, which they were ready to interpret more in their own Favour, than was either reasonable or [Page 56] became them, so little tenderness they have, even where it is most due, if the Interest of their Religion comes in competition with it.

As for the late King, tho he gave the most Glorious Evidence that ever Man did of his being a Protestant, yet, by the more than ordinary Influence the Queen was thought to have over him, and it so happening that the greatest part of his Anger was directed against the Puritans, there was such an advan­tage to Men dispos'd to suspect, that they were ready to interpret it a leaning towards Popery, without which handle it was Morally impossible, that the ill-affected part of the Nation could ever have seduc'd the rest into a Rebellion.

That which help'd to confirm ma­ny well meaning Men in their Mis­apprehensions of the King, was the long and unusual intermission of Par­liaments; so that every year that pas­sad without one, made up a new Ar­gument to increase their Suspicion, and made them presume that the Pa­pists had a principal hand in keeping them off: This raised such Heats in Mens Minds, to think that Men who [Page 57] were obnoxious to the Laws, instead of being punished, should have Credit enough to serve themselves, even at the price of destroying the Funda­mental Constitution; that it broke but into a Flame, which, before it could be quenched, had almost reduc'd the Nation ro Ashes.

Amongst the miserable Effects of that unnatural War, none hath been more fatal to us, than the forcing our Princes to breathe in another Air, and to receive the early impressions of a Foreign Education; the Barbari­ [...]y of the English, towards the King and the Royal Family, might very well tempt him to think the better of every thing he found abroad, and might naturally produce more gentle­ness, at least, towards a Religion by which he was hospitably received, at the same time that he was thrown off and Persecuted by the Protestants, tho his own Subjects) to aggravate the Offence. The Queen Mother, (as generally Ladies do with Age) grew most devout and earnest in her Re­ligion; and besides, the temporal Re­wards of getting larger Subsidies from the French Clergy, she had Motives [Page 58] of another kind, to perswade her to shew her Zeal; and since by the Ro­man Dispensatory, a Soul converted to the Church is a Soveraign Remedy, and lays up a mighty stock of merit; she was solicitous to secure her self in all Events, and therefore first set up­on the Duke of Glocester, who de­pended so much upon her good will, that she might for that reason have been induc'd to believe, the Con­quest would not be difficult; but it so fell out, that he either from his own Constancy, or that he had those near him by whom he was other­ways advis'd, chose rather to run a­way from her importunity, than by staying to bear the continual weight of it: It is belie v'd she had better success with another of her Sons, who, if he was not quite brought off from our Religion, at least such beginnings were made, as made them very easie to be finish'd; his being of a generous and aspiring Nature, and in that re­spect, less patient in the drudgery of Arguing, might probably help to re­commend a Church to him, that ex­empts the Laity from the vexation of enquiring; perhaps he might (tho [Page 59] by mistake) look upon that Religi­on as more favourable to the en­larged Power of Kings, a considera­tion which might have its weight with a young Prince in his warm blood, and that was brought up in Arms.

I cannot hinder my self from a small digression, to consider with ad­miration, that the old Lady of Rome, with all her wrinkles, should yet have charms, able to subdue great Princes; so far from handsom, and yet so imperious; so painted, and yet so pretending; after having abus'd, depos'd, and murther'd so many of her Lovers, she still finds others glad and proud of their new Chains; a thing so strange, to indifferent Judges, that those who will allow no other Mi­racles in the Church of Rome, must needs grant that this is one not to be contested; she sits in her Shop, and sells at dear Rates her Rattles and her Hobby-Horses, whilst the deluded World still continues to furnish her with Customers.

But whither am I carried with this Contemplation? it is high time to re­turn to my Text, and to consider the [Page 60] wonderful manner of the Kings coming home again, led by the hand of Hea­ven, and called by the Voice of his own People, who receiv'd him, if possible, with Joys equal to the Blessing of Peace and Union which his Restauration brought along with it; by this there was an end put to the hopes some might have abroad, of making use of his less happy Circumstances, to throw him in­to foreign Interests and Opinions, which had been wholly inconsistent with our Religion, our Laws, and all other things that are dear to us; yet for all this, some of those Tinctures and im­pressions might so far remain, as tho' they were very innocent in him, yet they might have ill effects here, by softning the Animosity which seems ne­cessary to the Defender of the Prote­stant Faith, in opposition to such a powerful and irreconcileable an Ene­my.

You may be sure, that among all the sorts of Men who apply'd themselves to the King at his first coming home, for his Protection, the Papists were not the last, nor, as they fain would have flatter'd themselves, the least welcome; having their past Sufferings, as well as [Page 61] their present Professions to recommend them; and there was something that look'd like a particular Consideration of them, since it so happened, that the Indulgence promised to Dissenters at Breda, was carried on in such a man­ner, that the Papists were to divide with them, and tho' the Parliament, notwithstanding its Resignation to the Crown in all things, rejected with scorn and anger a Declaration fram'd for this purpose, yet the Birth and steps of it gave such an alarm, that Mens suspicious once raised, were not easily laid asleep again.

To omit other things, the breach of the Tripple League, and the Dutch War with its appurtenances, carried Jealousies to the highest pitch imagi­nable, and fed the hopes of one Party, and the fears of the Other to such a degree, that some Critical Revolu­tions were generally expectad, when the ill success of that War, and the Sa­crifice France thought fit to make of the Papists here, to their own interest abroad, gave them another Check; and the Act of enjoyning the Test to all in Offices, was thought to be no ill Bar­gain to the Nation, tho' bought at the [Page 62] Price of 1200000 pound, and the Mo­ney apply'd to continue the War against the Dutch, than which nothing could be more unpopular or less approved. Notwithstanding the discouragements, Popery is a Plant that may be mowed down, but the Root will still remain, and in spite of the Laws, it will sprout up & grow again; especially if it should happen that there should be Men in Power, who in weeding it out of our Garden, will take care to Cherish and keep it alive; and tho' the Law for excluding them from Places of Trust was tolerably kept as to their outward Form, yet there were many Circum­stances, which being improved by the quick-sighted Malice of ill affected Men, did help to keep up the World in their suspicions, and to blow up Jea­lousies to such a heighth both in and out of Parliament, that the remembrance of them is very unpleasant, and the Example so extravagant, that it is to be hop'd nothing in our Age like it will be re-attempted; but to come closer to the Case in question, in this Condition we stand with the Papists, what shall now be done according to our Trim­mer's Opinion, in order to the better [Page 63] Bearing this grievance, since as I have said before, there is no hopes of being entirely free from it; Papists we must have among us, and if their Religion keep them from bringing honey to the Hive, let the Government try at least by gentle means to take away the Sting from them. The first Foundation to be laid is, that a distinct Consideration is to be had of the Popish Clergy, who have such an eternal Interest against all accommodation, that it is a hope­less thing to propose any thing to them less than all; their Stomachs have been set for it ever since the Refor­mation, they have pinned themselves to a Principle that admits no mean: they believe Protestants will be damn'd, and therefore by an extraordinary Effect of Christian Charity, they would destroy one half of England that the other might be saved; then for this World, they must be in possession for God Almighty, to receive his Rents for him, not to accompt till the Day of Judgment, which is a good kind of Tenure, and ye cannot well blame the good Men, that will stir up the Laity to run any hazard in order to the get­ting them restor'd. What is it to the [Page 64] Priest, if the deluded Zealot undoes himself in the Attempt? he sings Mas­ses as jollily, and with as good a Voice at Rome or St. Omers as ever he did; is a single Man, and can have no wants but such as may be easily supplyd, yet that he may not seem altogether insen­sible, or ungrateful to those that are his Martyrs, he is ready to assure their Exe­cutors, and if they please, will procure a Grant sub Annulo Piscatoris, that the good Man by being changed, has got a good Bargain, and sav'd the singing of some hundred of years, which he would else have had in Purgatory. There's no Cure for this Order of Men, no Expe­dient to be propos'd, so that tho the utmost severity of the Laws against them, may in some sort be mittigated, yet no Treaty can be made with Men who in this Case have left themselves no free Will, but are so muffled by Zeal, tyed by Vows, and kept up by such unchangeable Maxims of the Priest­hood, that they are to be left as despe­rate Patients, and look'd upon as Men that will continue in an Eternal State of Hostility, till the Nation is entirely subdued to them. It is then only the Lay Papists that are capable of being treated with, and we are to examine [Page 65] of what temper they are, and what Arguments are the most likely to pre­vail upon them, and how far 'tis ad­viseable for the Government to be In­dulgent to them; the Lay Papists ge­nerally keep their Religion, rather be­cause they will not break Company with those of their Party, than out of any settled Zeal that hath Root in them; most of them do by the Mediation of the Priests Marry amongst one another, to keep up an ignorant Position by hearing only one side; others by a mi­stake look upon it as the Escutcheons of the more Antient Religion of the two; and as some Men of a good Pedigree, will despise meaner Men, tho' never so much superior to them by Nature, so these undervalue Reformation as an Upstart, and think there is more Ho­nour in supporting an old Errour, than in embracing what seems to them to be a new Truth; the Laws have made them Men of Pleasure, by excluding them from Publick Business, and it happens well they are so, since they will the more easily be perswaded by Arguments of Ease and Conveniency [...]o them; they have not put off the [...] [...]n general, nor the Englishman in parti­cular, those who in the late [...] [Page 66] against them went into other Countries, tho they had all the Advantage that might recommend them to a good Re­ception, yet in a little time they chose to steal over again, and live here with hazard, rather than abroad with securi­ty. There is a Smell in our Native Earth, better than all the Perfumes in the East; there is something in a Mo­ther, tho never so Angry, that the Children will more Naturally trust Her, than the Studied Civilities of Strangers, let them be never so Hospi­table; therefore 'tis not adviseable, nor agreeing with the Rules of Governing Prudence, to provoke Men by hard­ships to forget that Nature, which else is sure to be of our side.

When these Men by fair Usage are put again into their right Senses, they will have quite differing Reflections from those which Rigour and Persecu­tion had raised in them: A Lay Papist will first consider his Abby-Lands which notwithstanding whatever ha [...] or can be alledged, must sink considerably in the Value, the moment tha [...] Popery prevails; and it being a disputable Matter, whether Zeal migh [...] not in a little time get the better [...] [Page 67] the Law in that case; a consider­ing Man will admit that as an Argument to perswade him, to be con­tent with things as they are, rather than run this or any other hazard by Change, in which perhaps he may have no other Advantage, than that his new humble Confessor may he rais'd to a Bishoprick, and from thence look down superciliously upon his Patron, or which is worse, run to take Possession for God Almighty of his Abby, in such a manner as the usurping Landlord (as he will then be called) shall hardly be admitted to be so much as a Tenant to his own Lands, lest his Title should prejudge that of the Church, which will then be the Language; he will think what disadvantage 'tis to be look­ed upon as a separate Creature, depend­ing upon a Foreign Interest and Autho­rity, and for that reason, expos'd to the Jealousie and Suspicion of his Coun­try-men; he will reflect what Incum­brance it is to have his House a Pasture for hungry Priests to graze in, which have such a never-failing Influence up­on the Foolish, which is the greatest part of every Man's Family, that a Man's Dominion, even over his own [Page 68] Children, is mangled and divided, if not totally undermin'd by them; then to be subject to what Arbitrary Taxes the Popish Convocations shall impose upon them for the carrying on the Common Interest of that Religion, un­der Penalty of being markd out for half Hereticks by the rest of the Party; to have no share in Business, no op­portunity of shewing his own Value to the World; to live at the best an use­less, and by others to be thought a dangerous Member of the Nation where he is born, is a burthen to a generous Mind that cannot be taken off by all the Pleasure of a lazy unmanly life, or by the nauseous enjoyment of a dull Plenty, that produceth no good for the Mind, which will be considered in the first place by a Man that has a Soul; when he shall think, that if his Religi­on, after his wading through a Sea of Blood, come at last to prevail, it would infinitely lessen, if not entirely destroy the Glory, Riches, Strength and Liber­ty of his own Country. And what a Sacrifice is this to make to Rome, where they are wise enough to wonder there should be such Fools in the World, as to venture, struggle, and contend, nay, [Page 69] even die Martyrs for that which, should it succecd, would prove a Judgment instead of a Blessing to them; he will conclude that the advantages of throw­ing some of their Children back again to God Almighty when they have too many of them, are not equal to the Incon­veniencies they may either feel or fear, by continuing their separation from the Religion established.

Temporal things will have their weight in the World, and tho Zeal may prevail for a time, and get the better in a Skirmish, yet the War ends ge­nerally on the side of Flesh and Blood, and will do so till Mankind is another thing than it is at present: And there­fore a wise Papist in cold Blood, con­sidering these and many other Circum­stances, which 'twill be worth his pains to see if he can unmuffle himself from the Mask of Infallibility, will think it reasonable to set his imprison'd Senses at Liberty, and that he has a right to see with his own Eyes, hear with his own Ears, and judge by his own Rea­son; the consequence of which might probably be, that weighing things in a right Scale, and seeing them in their true Colours, he would distinguish [Page 70] between the merit of suffering for a good Cause, and the foolish ostentation of drawing inconveniencies upon himself; and therefore will not be unwilling to be convinc'd that our Protestant Creed may make him happy in the other World, and the easier in this. A few of such wise Proselytes would by their Example draw so many after them, that the Party would insensibly melt away, and in a little time, without any angry word, we should come to an Union, that all Good Men would have Reason to rejoyce at; but we are not to presume upon these Conversions, without preparing Men for them by kind and reconciling Arguments; no­thing is so against our Nature, as to believe those can be in the right who are too hard upon us; there is a de­formity in every thing that doth us hurt, it will look scurvily in our Eye while the smart continues, and a Man must have an extraordinary Measure of Grace, to think well of a Religion that reduces him and his Family to Misery; in this respect our Trimmer would consent to the mitigation of such Laws as were made, (as it's said King Henry VIII. got Queen Elizabeth) [Page 71] in a heat against Rome: It may be said that even States as well as private Men are subject to Passion; a just indigna­tion of a villainous Attempt produces at the same time such Remedies, as perhaps are not without some mixture of Revenge, and therefore tho time cannot Repeal a Law, it may by a Na­tural Effect soften the Execution of it; there is less danger to Rouse a Ly­on when at Rest, than to awake Laws that were intended to have their time of Sleeping, nay more than that, in some cases their Natural periods of Life, dying of themselves without the Solemnity of being revoked, any other­wise than by the common consent of Mankind, who do cease to Execute, when the Reasons in great Measure fail that first Created and Justifyed the Ri­gour of such unusual Penalties.

Our Trimmer is not eager to pick out some places in History against this or any other Party; quite contrary, is very sollicitous to find out any thing that may be healing, and tend to an Agreement; but to prescribe the means of this Gentleness so as to make it ef­fectual, must come from the only place that can furnish Remedies for this [Page 72] Cure, viz. a Parliament; in the mean time, it is to be wished there may be such a mutual calmness of Mind, as that the Protestants might not be so jea­lous, as still to smell the Match that was to blow up the King, and both Houses in the Gunpowder Treason, or to start at every appearance of Popery, as if it were just taking Possession. On the other side, let not the Papists suffer themselves to be led by any hopes, tho never so flattering, to a Confidence or Ostentation which must provoke Men to be less kind to them; let them use Modesty on their sides, and the Protestants Indulgence on theirs; and by this means there will be an over­looking of all Venial Faults, a tacit connivanee at all things that do not carry Scandal with them, and would amount to a kind of Natural Dispen­sation with the the severe Laws, since there would be no more Accusers to be found, when the occasions of An­ger and Animosity are once remov'd; let the Papists in the mean time re­member, that there is a respect due from all lesser numbers to greater, a deference to be paid by an Opinion that is Exploded, to one that is Establish­ed; [Page 73] such a Thought well digested will have an influence upon their Behaviour, and produce such a Temper as must win the most eager Adversaries out of their ill Humour to them, and give them a Title to all the Favour that may be consistent with the Publick Peace and Security.

The Trimmer's Opini­on in Relation to things abroad.

THE World is so compos'd, that it is hard, if not impossible, for a Nation not to be a great deal in­volv'd in the fate of their Neighbours, and tho by the felicity of our Scituation, we are more Independant than any o­ther People, yet we have in all Ages been concern'd for our own sakes in the Revolutions abroad. There was a time when England was the over-bal­lancing [Page 74] Power of Christendom, and that either by Inheritance or Conquest, the better part of France receiv'd Laws from us; after that we being reduc'd into our own Limits, France and Spain became the Rivals for the Universal Monarchy, and our third Power, tho in it self less than either of the other, hapned to be Superiour to any of them, by that choice we had of throwing the Scales on that side to which we gave our Friendship. I do not know whether this Figure did not make us as great as our former Conquest, to be a perpetual Umpire of two great con­tending Powers, who gave us all their Courtship, and offer'd all their Incense at our Altar, whilst the Fate of either Prince seemed to depend upon the O­racles we delivered; for the King of England to sit on his Throne, as in the Supream Court of Justice, to which the two great Monarchs appeal, pleading their Cause, and expecting their Sentence. declaring which side was in the right, or at least if we pleas'd which side should have the better of it, was a piece of Greatness which was peculiar to us, and no wonder if we endeavour [Page 75] to preserve it, as we did for a considerable time, it being our Safety, as well as Glory, to maintain it; but by a Fatality upon our Councils, or by the refin'd Policy of this latter Age, we have thought fit to use industry to de­stroy this mighty Power, which we have so long enjoyed; and that equality between the Two Monarchs, which we might for ever have preserved, has been chiefly broken by us, whose In­terest it was above all others to main­tain it; when one of them, like the overflowing of the Sea, had gained more upon the other than our conve­nience, or indeed our safety, would allow; instead of mending the Banks, or making new ones, we our selves with our own hands helpt to cut them, to invite and make way for a farther Inundation. France and Spain have had their several turns in making use of our Mistakes, and we have been formerly as deaf to the Instances of the then weaker part of the World to help them against the House of Austria, as we can now be to the Earnestness of Spain, that we would assist them against the Power of France. Gondamar was as sawcy, and as powerful too in King [Page 76] James his Court, as any French Am­bassadour can have been at any time since, when men talkt as wrong then on the Spanish side, and made their Court by it, as well as any can have done since by talking as much for the French; so that from that time, instead of weighing in a wiseBalance the power of either Crown, it looks as if we had learnt only to weigh the Pensions, and take the heaviest.

It would be tedious, as well as un­welcome, to recapitulate all our wrong steps, so that I will go no farther than the King's Restauration, at which time the Balance was on the side of France, and that by the means of Cromwell, who for a separate Interest of his own had sacrificed that of the Nation, by joining with the stronger side, to sup­press the Power of Spain, which he ought to have supported. Such a Me­thod was natural enough to an Usur­per, and shew'd he was not the Lawful Father of the People, by his having so little care of them; and the Example coming from that hand, one would think should, for that Reason, be less likely to be follow'd. But to go on, home comes the King, followed with [Page 77] Courtships from all Nations abroad, of which some did it not only to make them forget how familiarly they had us'd him when he was in other Circum­stances, but to bespeak the Friendship of a Prince, who, besides his other Greatness, was yet more considerable by being re-established by the love of his people. France had an Interest ei­ther to dispose us to so much good will, or at least to put us into such a Condi­tion, that we might give no Opposition to their Designs; and Flanders being a perpetual Object in their Eye, a lasting Beauty for which they have an incura­ble passion, and not being kind enough to consent to them, they meditated to commit a Rape upon her, which they thought would not be easie to do, whilst England and Holland were a­greed to rescue her, when-ever they should hear her cry out for help to them; to this end they put in practice Seasonable and Artificial Whispers, to widen things between us, and the States. Amboyna and the Fishery must be talk'd of here; the freedom of the Seas, and the preservation of Trade must be insi­nuated there; and there being combu­stible matter on both sides, in a little [Page 78] time it took Fire, which gave those that kindled it, sufficient cause to smile and hug themselves, to see us both fall into the Net they had laid for us. And it is observable and of good example to us, if we will take it, That their Design being to set us together at Cuffs to weaken us, they kept them­selves Lookers on till our Victories be­gan to break the Balance; then the King of France, like a wise Prince, was resolved to support the beaten side, and would no more let the Power of the Sea, than we ought to suffer the Mo­narchy of Europe, to fall into one hand: In pursuance to this, he took part with the Dutch, and in a little time made himself Umpire of the Peace between us; some time after, upon pretence of his Queen's Title to part of Flanders, by Right of Devolution, he falls into it with a mighty Force, for which the Spaniard was so little prepared, that he made a very swift Progress, and had such a Torrent of undisputed Victory, that England and Holland, tho the Wounds they had given one another were yet green, being struck with the apprehension of so near a danger to them, thought it necessary, for their [Page 79] own defence, to make up a sudden League, into which Sweden was taken to interpose for a Peace between the two Crowns.

This had so good an effect, that France was stopt in its Career, and the Peace of Aix le Chapelle was a little af­ter concluded. 'Twas a forc'd putt; and tho France wisely dissembled their inward dissatisfaction, yet from the very moment they resolv'd to unty the Triple knot, whatever it cost them; for his Christian Majesty, after his Con­quering Meals, ever rises with a sto­mach, and he lik'd the Pattern so well, that it gave him a longing desire to have the whole Piece. Amongst the other means used for the attaining this end, the sending over the Dutchess of Orleans, was not the least powerful; she was a very welcome Guest here, and her own Charms and Dexterity joined with other Advantages, that might help her perswasions, gave her such an Ascendant, that she could hardly fail of success. One of the Preliminaries of her Treaty, tho a tri­vial thing in it self, yet was considera­ble in the consequence, as very small circumstances often are in relation to the [Page 80] Government of the World. About this time a general Humour, in opposition to France, had made us throw off their Fashion, and put on Vests, that we might look more like a distinct People, and not be under the servility of imitation, which ever pays a greater deference to the Original, than is consistent with the Equality all In­dependent Nations should pretend to; France did not like this small beginning of ill Humours, at least of Emulation, and wisely considering that it is a na­tural Introduction first to make the World their Apes, that they may be afterwards their Slaves. It was thought that one of the Instructions Madam brought along with her, was to laugh us out of these Vests, which she per­formed so effectually, that in a mo­ment, like so many Footmen who had quitted their Masters Livery, we all took it again, and returned to our old Service; so that the very time of doing it gave a very critical Advantage to France, since it lookt like an Evidence of our returning to their Interest, as well as to their Fashion, and would give such a distrust of us to our new Allies, that it might facilitate the disso­lution [Page 81] of the knot, which tied them so within their bounds, that they were very impatient till they were freed from the restraint.

But the Lady had a more extended Commission than this, and without doubt we double-laid the Foundation of a new strict Alliance, quite contra­ry to the other, in which we had been so lately engag'd. And of this there were such early appearances, that the World began to look upon us as falling into Apostacy from the common Inte­rest. Notwithstanding all this, France did not neglect at the same time to give good words to the Dutch, and e­ven to feed them with hopes of sup­porting them against us, when on a sudden, that never to be forgotten De­claration of War against them comes out, only to vindicate his own Glory, and to revenge the Injuries done to his Brother in England, by which he became our Second in this Duel; so humble can this Prince be, when at the same time he does more Honour than we deserve, he lays a greater share of the blame upon our Shoulders, than did naturally belong to us; the particu­lars of that War, our part in it while we [Page 82] staid in, and when we were out of breath, our leaving the French to make an end of it, are things too well known to make it necessary, and too unwel­come in themselves to incite me to repeat them; only the wisdom of France is in this to be observed, That when we had made a separate Peace, which left them single to oppose the united Force of the Confederates, they were so far from being angry, that they would not shew so much as the least coldness, hoping to get as much by our Mediation for a Peace, as they would have expected from our Assist­ance in the War, our Circumstances at that time considered. This seasonable piece of Indulgence in not reproaching us, but rather allowing those Necessities of State which we gave for our Ex­cuse, was such an engaging Method, that it went a great way to keep us still in their Chains, when, to the Eye of the World, we had absolutely broke loose from them: And what passed af­terwards at Nimoguen, tho the King's Neutrality gave him the outward Fi­gure of a Mediator, it appear'd that his Interposition was extremely suspected of Partiality by the Confederates, who [Page 83] upon that Ground did both at and be­fore the Conclusion of that Treaty, treat his Ministers there with a great deal of neglect. In this Peace, as well as that in the Pirenean and Aix le Chapelle, the King of France, at the Moment of making it, had the thought of breaking it; for a very little time after he broach'd his Pretensions upon Alost, which were things that if they had been offer'd by a less formidable hand, would have been smiled at; but ill Arguments being seconded by good Armies, carry such a power with them, that naked sense is a very unequal Ad­versary. It was thought that these aie­ry Claims were chiefly rais'd with the prospect of getting Luxemburg for the Equivalent; and this Opinion was confirm'd by the blocking it up after­wards, pretending to the Country of Chimay, that it might be entirely sur­rounded by the French Dominions, and it was so pressed that it might have fallen in a little time, if the King of France had not sent Orders to his Troops to retire, and his Christian Ge­nerosity which was assign'd for the reason of it, made the World smile, since it is seen how differently his de­vout [Page 82] [...] [Page 83] [...] [Page 84] Zeal works in Hungary: that spe­cious Reason was in many respects ill­tim'd, and France it self gave it so faintly, that at the very time it look'd out of Countenance; the true ground of his Retiring is worth our observati­on; for at the instance of the Confede­rates, Offices were done, and Memori­als given, but all ineffectual till the word Parliament was put into them; that powerful word had such an effect, that even at that distance it rais'd the Siege, which may convince us of what efficacy the King of England's words are, when he will give them their full weight, and threaten with his Parlia­ment; it is then that he appears that great Figure we ought to represent him in our Minds, the Nation his Body, he the Head, and joined with that Har­mony, that every word he pronounces is the Word of a Kingdom: Such words, as appears by this Example, are as ef­fectual as Fleets and Armies, because they can create them, and without this his word sounds abroad like a faint Whisper, that is either not heard, or (which is worse) not minded. But tho France had made this step of forced Compliance, it did not mean to leave [Page 85] off the pursuit of their pretensions; and therefore immediately proposed the Arbitration to the King; but it ap­pear'd, that notwithstanding his Merit towards the Confederates, in saving Luxenburgh, the remembrances of what had passed before, had left such an ill taste in their Mouths, that they could not Relish our being put into a Condition to dispose of their Interests, and there­fore declin d it by insisting upon a gene­ral Treaty, to which France has ever since continued to be averse; our great earnestness also to perswade the Con­federates to consent to it, was so unusual, and so suspicious a method, that it might naturally make them be­lieve, that France spake to them by our Mouth, and for that Reason, if there has been no other, might hinder the accepting it; and so little care hath been taken to cure this, or other Jea­lousies the Confederates may have enter­tain'd, that quite contrary, their Mini­sters here every day take fresh Alarms, from what they observe in small, as well as in greater Circumstances; and they being apt both to take and improve apprehensions of this kind, draw such Inferences from them, as make them en­tirely despair of us.

[Page 86] Thus we now stand, far from being Innocent Spectators of our Neighbours Ruine, and by a fatal mistake forget­ting what a Certain Fore-runner it is to our own; and now it's time our Trim­mer should tell something of his Opini­on, upon this present State of things a­broad; he first professes to have no Biass, either for or against France, and that his thoughts are wholly directed by the Interest of his own Country; he allows, and has read that Spain used the same Methods, when it was in its heighth, as France doth now, and there­fore 'tis not Partiality that moves him; but the just fear which all reasonable Men must be possess'd with, of an over­growing Power; Ambition is a devour­ing Beast, when it hath swallow'd one Province, instead of being cloyed, it has so much the greater Stomach to a­nother, and being fed, becomes still the more hungry; so that for the Con­federates to expect a security from any thing but their own united strength, is a most miserable fallacy; and if they cannot resist the Incroachments of France by their Arms, it is in vain for them to dream of any other means of preservati­on; it would have the better grace, be­sides [Page 87] the saving so much Blood and Ru­in, to give up all at once; make a Present of themselves, to appease this haughty Monarch, rather than be whis­per'd, flatter'd, or cozened out of their liberty. Nothing is so soft as the first ap­plications of a greater Prince, to engage a weaker, but that smiling Countenance is but a Vizard, it is not the true Face; for as soon as their turn is serv'd, the Courtship flyes to some other Prince or State, where the same part is to be acted over again, leaves the old mista­ken Friend, to Neglect and Contempt, and like an insolent Lover to a Cast off Mistress, Reproaches her with that In­famy, of which he himself was the Au­thor. Sweden, Bavaria, Palatine, &c. may by their Fresh Examples, teach o­ther Princes what they are reasonably to expect, and what Snakes are hid un­der the Flowers the Court of France so liberally throws upon them, whilst they can be useful. The various Methods and deep Intrigues, with the differing Notes in several Countries, do not only give suspicion, but assurance that every thing is put in Practice, by which Uni­versal Monarchy may be obtained. Who can reconcile the withdrawing of his [Page 88] Troops from Luxenburg, in considera­tion of the War in Hungary, which was not then declared, and presently after encouraging the Turk to take Vienna, and consequently to destroy the Empire? Or who can think that the Persecution of the Poor Protestants of France, will be accepted of God, as an Attonement for hazarding the loss of the whole Chri­stian Faith? Can he be thought in ear­nest, when he seem'd to be afraid of the Spaniards, and for that reason must have Luxenburg, and that he cannot be safe from Germany, unless he is in possession of Strasburg? All Injustice and Violence must in it self be grievous, but the ag­gravations of supporting 'em by false Ar­guments, and insulting Reasons, has some­thing in it yet more provoking, than the Injuries themselves; and the World has ground enough to apprehend, from such a Method of arguing, that even their Senses are to be subdu'd as well as their Liberties. Then the variety of Argu­ments used by France in several Coun­tries is very observable: In England and Denmark, nothing insisted on but the Greatness and Authority of the Crown; on the other side, the Great Men in Po­land are commended, who differ in O­pinion [Page 89] with the King, and they argue like Friends to the Priviledge of the Dyet, against the separate Power of the Crown: In Sweden they are troubled that the King should have chang'd something there of late, by his single Authority, from the antient and settled Authority and Constitutions: at Ra­tisbone, the most Christian Majesty ta­keth the Liberties of all the Electors, and free States, into his immediate protection, and tells them the Empe­rour is a dangerous Man, an aspiring Hero, that would infallibly devour them, if he was not at hand to resist him on their behalf; but above all in Holland, he has the most obliging tenderness for the Common-wealth, and is in such disquiets, lest it should be invaded by the Prince of Orange, that they can do no less in gratitude, than undo themselves when he bids them, to show how sensible they are of his excessive good Nature; yet in spight of all these Contradictions, there are in the World such refin'd States-men, as will upon their Credit affirm the following Paradoxes to be real truth; first that France alone is sincere and keeps its Faith, and consequently [Page 90] that it is the only Friend we can rely upon; that the King of France, of all Men living, has the least mind to be a Conqueror; that he is a sleepy, tame Creature, void of all Ambition, a poor kind of a Man, that has no far­ther thoughts than to be quiet; that he is charm'd by his Friendship to us, that it is impossible he should ever do us hurt, and therefore tho Flanders was lost, it would not in the least con­cern us; that he would fain help the Crown of England to be absolute, which would be to take pains to put it into a condition to oppose him, as it is, and must be our Interest, as long as he con­tinues in such an overballancing Pow­er and Greatness.

Such a Creed as this, if once receiv'd, might prepare our belief for greater things, and as he that taught Men to eat a Dagger, began first with a Pen­knife; so if we can be prevail'd with to digest the smaller Mistakes, we may at last make our stomachs strong e­nough for that of Transubstantiation. Our Trimmer cannot easily be con­verted out of his senses by these State Sophisters, and yet he has no such peevish Obstinacy as to reject all Cor­respondence [Page 91] with France, because we ought to be apprehensive of the too great power of it; he would not have the Kings Friendship to the Confede­rates extended to the involving him in any unreasonable or dangerous Engage­ments, neither would he have him lay aside the consideration of his better e­stablishment at home, out of his ex­cessive Zeal to secure his Allies abroad; but sure there might be a Mean be­tween these two opposite Extreams, and it may be wish'd that our Friend­ship with France should at least be so bounded, that it may consist with the humour as well as the interest of En­gland. There is no Woman but has the fears of contracting too near an intimacy with a much greater Beauty, because it exposes her too often to a Comparison that is not advantageous to her; and sure it may become a Prince to be as jealous of his Dignity, as a Lady can be of her good looks, and to be as much out of Countenance, to be thought an humble Companion to so much a greater Power; to be al­ways seen in an ill Light, to be so darkned by the brightness of a greater Star, is somewhat mortifying; and [Page 92] when England might ride Admiral at the head of the Confederates, to look like the Kitching-Yatch to the Grand Louis, is but a scurvy Figure for us to make in the Map of Christendom; it would rise up in our Trimmer's stomach, if ever (which God forbid) the power of calling and intermitting Parliaments here, should be transferred to the Crown of France, and that all the opportuni­ties of our own settlements at home should give way to their Projects a­broad; and that our Interest should be so far sacrific'd to our Compliance, that all the Omnipotence of France can ne­ver make us full amends for it. In the mean time, he shrinks at the dismal prospect he can by no means drive a­way from his thoughts, that when France has gatherd all the fruit arising from our Mistakes, and that we can bear no more with them, they will cut down the Tree and throw it into the fire; for all this while, some Superfine States-Men, to comfort us, would fain perswade the World that this or that accident may save us, and for all that is or ought to be dear to us, would have us to rely wholly upon Chance, not considering that Fortune is Wis­doms [Page 93] Creature, and that God Almigh­ty loves to be on the Wisest as well as the Strongest side; therefore this is such a miserable shift, such a shame­ful Evasion, that they would be laught to death for it, if the ruining Conse­quence of this Mistake did not more dispose Men to rage, and a detestation of it.

Our Trimmer is far from Idolatry in other things, in one thing only he comes near it, his Country is in some degree his Idol; he does not Worship the Sun, because 'tis not peculiar to us, it rambles about the World, and is less kind to us than others; but for the Earth of England, tho perhaps inferior to that of many places abroad, to him there is Divinity in it, and he would rather dye, than see a piece of English Glass trampled down by a Foreign Trespasser: he thinks there are a great many of his mind, for all Plants are apt to taste of the Soyl in which they grow, and we that grow here, have a Root that produces in us a Stalk of English Juice, which is not to be chang­ed by grafting or foreign infusion; and I do not know whether any thing less will prevail, than the Modern Experi­ment, [Page 94] by which the Blood of one Crea­ture is transinitted into another; ac­cording to which, before the French can be let into our Bodies, every drop of ourown must be drawn out of them.

Our Trimmer cannot but lament, that by a Sacrifice too great for one Na­tion to another, we should be like a rich Mine, made useless only for want of being wrought, and that the Life and Vigour which should move us a­gainst our Enemies is miserably ap­ply'd to tear our own Bowels; that be­ing made by our happy scituation, not only safer, but if we please greater too, than other Countries which far exceed us in extent; that having Courage by Nature, Learning by Industry, and Riches by Trade, we should corrupt all these Advantages, so as to make them insignificant, and by a fatality which seems peculiar to us, misplace our active rage one against another, whilst we are turn'd into Statues on that side where lies our greatest danger; to be unconcern'd not only at our Neigh­bours ruine but our own, and let our Island lye like a great Hulk in the Sea, without Rudder or Sail, all the Men cast away in her, or as if we were all Children in a great Cradle, and rockt asleep to a foreign Tune.

[Page 95] I say when our Trimmer represent­eth to his Mind, our Roses blasted and discolourd, whilst the Lillies Triumph and grow Insolent, upon the Compari­son; when he considers our own once flourishing Lawrel, now withered and dying, and nothing left us but a remem­brance of a better part in History, than we shall make in the next Age; which will be no more to us than an Es­cutcheon hung upon our Door when we are dead; when he foresees from hence, growing Infamy from abroad, confusion at home, and all this without the possibility of a Cure, in respect of the voluntary fetters good Men put up­on themselves by their Allegiance with­out a good measure of preventing Grace, he would be tempted to go out of the World like a Roman Philosopher, ra­ther than endure the burthen of Life under such a discouraging Prospect. But Mistakes, as all other things, have their Periods, and many times the nearest way to Cure, is not to oppose them, but stay till they are crusht with their own weight: for Nature will not allow any thing to continue long that is violent; violence is a wound, and as a wound, must be curable in a little [Page 96] time, or else 'tis Mortal; but a Nation comes near to be Immortal, therefore the wound will one time or another be cured, tho perhaps by such rough Methods, if too long forborn, as may even make the best Remedies we can prepare, to be at the same time a Me­lancholly Contemplation to us; there is but one thing (God Almighties Pro­vidence excepted) to support a Man from sinking under these afflicting thoughts, and that is the hopes we draw singly from the King himself, without the mixture of any other con­sideration.

Tho the Nation was lavish of their Kindness to him at his first coming, yet there remains still a stock of Warmth in Mens Hearts for him.

Besides the good Influences of his happy Planet are not yet all spent, and tho the Stars of Men past their youth are generally declining, and have less Force, like the Eyes of decaying Beau­ties, yet by a Blessing peculiar to him­self, we may yet hope to be sav'd by his Autumnal Fortune: He has some­thing about him that will draw down a healing Miracle for his and our De­liverance; a Prince which seems fitted [Page 97] for such an offending Age, in which Mens Crimes have been so general, that the not forgiving his People has been the destroying of them, whose Gentle­ness gives him a natural Dominion that hath no bounds, with such a noble mixture of Greatness and Condescenti­on, an engaging Look, that disarms Men of their ill Humours, and their Resentments; something in him that wanteth a Name, and can be no more defined than it can be resisted; a Gift of Heaven, of its last finishing, where it will be peculiarly kind; the only Prince in the World that dares be fami­liar, or that has right to triumph over those forms which were first invented to give awe to those who could not judge, and to hide Defects from those that could; a Prince that has exhaust­ed himself by his Liberality, and en­danger'd himself by his Mercy; who out-shines by his own Light and natu­ral Virtues all the varnish of studied Acquisitions; his Faults are like Shades to a good Picture, or like Allay to Gold, to make it the more useful, he may have some, but for any Man to see them through so many reconciling Virtues, is a Sacrilegious piece of of ill nature, of [Page 98] which no generous Mind can be guilty; a Prince that deserves to be lov'd for his own sake, even without the help of a Comparison; our Love, our Du­ty, and our Danger, all join to cement our Obedience to him; in short, what­ever he can do, it is no more possible for us to be angry with him, than with a Bank that secures us from the raging Sea, the kind Shade that hides us from the scorching Sun, the welcom Hand that reaches us a Reprieve, or with the Guardian-Angel, that rescues our Souls from the devouring Jaws of wretched Eternity.

RELIGION.

THe first thing to be considered, is Religion. It must be the chief Object of your Thoughts, since it would be a vain thing to direct your Behaviour in the World, and forget that which you are to have towards him who made it. In a strict sense, it is the only thing ne­cessary: you must take it into your Mind, and from thence throw it into your Heart, where you are to embrace it so close as never to lose the Possession of it. But then it [Page 7] is necessary to distinguish be­tween the Reality and the Pre­tence.

Religion doth not con­sist in believing the Le­gend of the Nursery, where Children with their Milk are fed with the Tales of Witch­es, Hobgoblings, Prophecies, and Miracles. We suck in so greedily these early Mi­stakes, that our riper Ʋnder­standing hath much ado to cleanse our Minds from this kind of Trash: The Stories are so entertaining, that we do not only believe them, but relate them; which makes the discovery of the Truth somewhat grievous, when it makes us lose such a Field of Impertinence, where we might [Page 8] have diverted our selves, be­sides the throwing some shame upon us for having ever received them. This is making the World a Jest, and imputing to God Almighty, That the Province he assign­eth to the Devil, is to play at Blind-mans-buff, and shew Tricks with Mankind; and is so far from being Religion, that it is not Sense, and hath right only to be call'd that kind of Devotion, of which Ignorance is the undoubted Mother, without competi­tion or dispute. These Mi­stakes are therefore to be left off with your Hanging­sleeves; and you ought to be as much out of counte­nance to be found with them [Page 9] about you, as to be seen playing with Babies, at an Age when other things are expect­ed from you.

The next thing to be ob­serv'd to you, is, That Re­ligion doth as little consist in loud Answers and devout Convulsions at Church, or Praying in an extraordinary manner. Some Ladies are so extream stirring at Church, that one would swear the Worm in their Conscience made them so unquiet. Others will have such a Divided Face be­tween a Devout Goggle and an Inviting Glance, that the unnatural Mixture maketh even the best Looks to be at that time ridiculous. These affected Appearances are ever [Page 10] suspected, like very strong Perfumes, which are general­ly thought no very good Symptoms in those that make use of them. Let your ear­nestness therefore be reserv'd for your Closet, where you may have God Almighty to your self: In Publick be still and calm, neither undecently Careless, nor Affected in the o­ther Extream.

It is not true Devotion, to put on an angry Zeal against those who may be of a differing Persuasion. Par­tiality to our selves makes us often mistake it for a Duty, to fall hard upon others in that case; and being push'd on by Self-conceit, we strike without mercy be­lieving [Page 11] that the Wounds we give are Meritorious, and that we are fighting God Al­mighty's Quarrel; when the truth is, we are only setting out our selves. Our Devo­tion too often breaketh out into that Shape which most agreeth with our particular Temper. The Cholerick grow into a hardned Severity a­gainst all who dissent from them; snatch at all the Texts of Scripture that suit with their Complexion; and because God's Wrath was some time kindled, they conclude, That Anger is a Divine Vertue; and are so far from ima­gining their ill natur'd Zeal requireth an Apology, that they value themselves upon it, [Page 12] and triumph in it. Others, whose Nature is more Credu­lous than ordinary, admit no Bounds or Measure to it; they grow as proud of extending their Faith, as Princes are of enlarging their Dominions; not considering, that our Faith, like our Stomach, is ca­pable of being over-charg'd; and that as the last is de­stroy'd by taking in more than it can digest, so our Reason may be extinguish'd by op­pressing it with the weight of too many strange things; espe­cially if we are forbidden to chew what we are command­ed to swallow. The Melan­choly and the Sullen are apt to place a great part of their Religion in dejected or ill-humour'd [Page 13] Looks, putting on an unsociable Face, and de­claiming against the Innocent Entertainments of Life, with as much sharpness as they could bestow upon the greatest Crimes. This generally is on­ly a Vizard, there is seldom a­ny thing real in it. No other thing is the better for being Sowre; and it would be hard that Religion should be so, which is the best of things. In the mean time it may be said with truth, That this surly kind of Devotion hath perhaps done little less hurt in the World, by frighting, than the most scandalous Ex­amples have done by infecting it.

[Page 14] Having told you, in these few Instances, to which ma­ny more might be ad­ded, what is not true Re­ligion; it is time to describe to you, what is so. The or­dinary Definitions of it are no more like it, than the com­mon Sign-posts are like the Princes they would represent. The unskilful Dawbers in all Ages have generally laid on such ill Colours, and drawn such harsh Lines, that the Beauty of it is not easily to be di­scerned: They have put in all the forbidding Features that can be thought of; and in the first place, have made it an irreconcilable Enemy to Nature; when, in reality, they are not only Friends [Page 15] but Twins, born together at the same time; and it is do­ing violence to them both, to go about to have them separated. Nothing is so kind and so inviting as true and unsophisticated Religion: Instead of imposing unne­cessary Burdens upon our Nature, it easeth us of the greater weight of our Passi­ons and Mistakes: Instead of subduing us with Rigour, it redeemeth us from the Sla­very we are in to our selves, who are the most severe Ma­sters, whilst we are under the Usurpation of our Ap­petites let loose and not re­strain'd.

Religion is a chearsul thing, so far from being always at [Page 16] Cuffs with Good Humour, that it is inseparably united to it. Nothing unpleasant belongs to it, though the Spiritual Cooks have done their unskil­ful part to give an ill Relish to it. A wise Epicure would be Religious for the sake of Pleasure; Good Sense is the Foundation of both; and he is a Bungler who aimeth at true Luxury, but where they are join'd.

Religion is exalted Reason, refin'd and sifted from the grosser parts of it: It dwel­leth in the upper Region of the Mind, where there are fewest Clouds or Mists to dar­ken or offend it: It is both the Foundation and the Crown of all Vertues: It is [Page 17] Morality improv'd and rais'd to its height, by being car­ried nearer Heaven, the only place where Perfecti­on resideth. It cleanseth the Ʋnderstanding, and brush­eth off the Earth that hang­eth about our Souls. It doth not want the Hopes and the Terrors which are made use of to support it; neither ought it to descend to the borrowing any Argument out of it self, since there we may find every thing that should invite us. If we were to be hired to Religion, it is able to out-bid the cor­rupted World, with all it can offer to us, being so much the Richer of the two, in every thing where Reason is admit­ted [Page 18] to be a Judge of the Value.

Since this is so, it is worth your pains to make Religion your choice, and not make use of it only as a Re­fuge. There are Ladies, who finding by the too visible decay of their good. Looks, that they can shine no more by that Light, put on the Var­nish of an affected Devotion, to keep up some kind of Fi­gure in the World. They take Sanctuary in the Church, when they are pursued by growing Contempt, which will not be stopt, but followeth them to the Altar. Such late penitence is only a disguise for the tor­menting grief of being no more handsome. That is the killing thought which draw­eth [Page 19] the sighs and tears, that ap­pear outwardly to be applied to a beter end.

There are many who have an Aguish Devotion, Hot and Cold Fits, long Intermissions, and violent Raptures. This uneverness is by all means to be avoided. Let your method be a steady course of good Life, that may run like a smooth Stream, and be a per­petual Spring to furnish to the continued Exercise of Vertue. Your Devotion may be earnest, but it must be unconstrained; and like other Duties, you must make it your Pleasure too, or else it will have very little effi­cacy. By this Rule you may best judge of your own [Page 20] Heart. Whilst those Duties are Joys, it is an Evidence of their being sincere; but when they are a Penance, it is a sign that your Nature ma­keth some resistance; and whilst that lasteth, you can never be entirely secure of your self.

If you are often unquiet, and too nearly touch'd by the cross Accidents of Life, your Devotion is not of the right Standard; there is too much Allay in it. That which is right and unmixt, taketh away the Sting of every thing that would trouble you: It is like a healing Balm, that extinguisheth the sharpness of the Bloud; so this softeneth and dissolveth the Anguish of [Page 21] the Mind. A devout Mind hath the Privilege of be­ing free from Passions, as some Climates are from all venomous kind of Crea­tures. It will raise you above the little Vexations to which others for want of it, will be expos'd, and bring you to a Temper, not of stupid Indifference, but of such a wise Resignation, that you may live in the World, so as it may hang about you like a loose Garment, and not tied too close to you.

Take heed of running into that common Error, of apply­ing God's Judgments upon particular Occasions. Our Weights and Measures are not competent to make the Di­stribution [Page 22] either of his Mercy or his Justice: He hath thrown a Veilover these things, which makes it not only an Imperti­nence, but a kind of Sacri­lege, for us to give Sentence in them without his Commis­sion.

As to your particular Faith, keep to the Religion that is grown up with you, both as it is the best in it self, and that the reason of staying in it upon that Ground is somewhat stron­ger for your Sex, than it will perhaps be allow'd to be for ours; in respect that the Volu­minous enquiries into the Truth, by Reading, are less expected from you. The Best of Books will be direction enough to you not to change; and whilst you [Page 23] are fix'd and sufficiently con­firm'd in your own Mind, you will do best to keep vain Doubts and Scruples at such a distance, that they may give you no dis­quiet.

Let me recommend to you a Method of being rightly in­form'd, which can never fail: It is in short this. Get Ʋnder­standing, and practise Vertue. And if you are so Blessed as to have those for your Share, it is not surer that there is a God, than it is, that by him all Ne­cessary Truths will be revealed to you.

HƲSBAND.

THAT which challen­geth the place in your Thoughts, is, how to live with a Husband. And though that is so large a Word, that few Rules can be fix'd to it which are unchangeable, the Methods being as various as the several Tempers of Men to which they must be suited; yet I cannot omit some General Observations, which, with the help of your own may the better direct you in the part of your Life upon which your Happiness most de­pendeth.

[Page 25] It is one of the Disadvan­tages belonging to your Sex, that young Women are sel­dom permitted to make their own Choice; their Friends Care and Experience are thought safer Guides to them, than their own Fancies; and their Modesty often forbid­deth them to refuse when their Parents recommend, though their inward Consent may not entirely go along with it. In this case there remaineth nothing for them to do, but to endeavour to make that easie which fal­leth to their Lot, and by a wise use of every thing they may dislike in a Hus­band, turn that by degrees to be very supportable, which, [Page 26] if neglected, might in time be­get an Aversion.

You must first lay it down for a Foundation in general, That there is Inequality in the Sexes, and that for the bet­ter Oeconomy of the World, the Men, who were to be the Law-givers, had the lar­ger share of Reason bestow'd upon them; by which means your Sex is the better pre­par'd for the Compliance that is necessary for the better perfor­mance of those Duties which seem to be most properly assign'd to it. This looks a little uncourtly at the first appearance; but upon Exa­mination it will be found, that Nature is so far from be­ng unjust to you, that she [Page 27] is partial on our side. She hath made you such large Amends by other Advantages, for the seeming Injustice of the first Distribution, that the Right of Complaining is come over to our Sex. You have it in your power not only to free your selves, but to sudbue your Masters, and without violence throw both their Natural and Legal Autho­rity at your Feet. We are made of differing Tempers, that our Defects may the better be mutually supplied: Your Sex wanteth our Reason for your Conduct, and our Strength for your Protection: Ours want­eth your Gentleness to soften, and to entertain us. The first part of our Life is a good [Page 28] deal subjected to you in the Nursery, where you Reign without Competition, and by that means have the ad­vantage of giving the first Impressions. Afterwards you have stronger Influences, which, well manag'd, have more force in your behalf, than all our Privileges and Jurisdictions can pretend to have against you. You have more strength in your Looks, than we have in our Laws, and more power by your Tears, than we have by our Arguments.

It is true, that the Laws of Marriage, run in a harsher stile towards your Sex. Obey is an ungenteel word, and less easie to be digested, by ma­king [Page 29] such an unkind distincti­on in the Words of the Con­tract, and so very unsuitable to the excess of Good Manners, which generally goes before it. Besides, the universality of the Rule seemeth to be a Grievance, and it appeareth reasonable, that there might be an Exemption for extraor­dinary Women, from ordina­ry Rules, to take away the just Exception that lieth a­gainst the false measure of gene­ral Equality.

It may be alledged by the Counsel retained by your Sex, that as there is in all other Laws, an Appeal from the Letter to the Equity, in Cases that require it: It is as reasonable, that some Court [Page 30] of a larger Jurisdiction might be erected, where some Wives might resort and plead speci­ally. And in such instances, where Nature is so kind, as to raise them above the level of their own Sex, they might have Relief, and obtain a Mitigation in their own par­ticular, of a Sentence which was given generally against Woman kind. The causes of Separation are now so very course, that few are confi­dent enough to buy their Li­berty at the price of having their Modesty so exposed. And for disparity of Minds, which above all other things requireth a Remedy, the Laws have made no provision; so little refin'd are numbers of [Page 31] Men, by whom they are com­pil'd. This and a great deal more might be said to give a colour to the Complaint.

But the Answer to it, in short, is, That the Institution of Marriage is too sacred to ad­mit a Liberty of objecting to it; That the supposition of yours being the weaker Sex, having without all doubt a good Foundation, maketh it rea­sonable to subject it to the Masculine Dominion; That no Rule can be so perfect, as not to admit some Exceptions; But the Law presumeth there would be so few found in this Case, who would have a sufficient Right to such a Privilege, that it is safer some Injustice should be conniv'd [Page 32] at in a very few Instances, than to break into an Esta­blishment, upon which the Order of Humane Society doth so much depend.

You are therefore to make your best of what is settled by Law and Custom, and not vainly imagine, that it will be changed for your sake. But that you may not be discou­raged, as if you lay under the weight of an incurable Grievance, you are to know, that by a wise and dexterous Conduct, it will be in your power to relieve your self from any thing that looketh like a disadvantage in it. For your better direction, I will give a hint of the most or­dinary Causes of Dissatisfacti­on [Page 33] between Man and Wife, that may be able by such a Warning to live so upon your Guard, that when you shall be married, you may know how to cure your Husband's Mistakes, and to prevent your own.

First then, you are to con­sider, you live in a time which hath rendred some kind of Frailties so habitual, that they lay claim to large Grains of Allowance. The World in this is somewhat unequal, and our Sex seem­eth to play the Tyrant in di­stinguishing partially for our selves, by making that in the utmost degree Criminal in the Woman, which in a Man passeth under a much [Page 34] gentler Censure. The Root and the Excuse of this Injustice is the Preservation of Families from any Mixture which may bring a Blemish to them: And whilst the Point of Ho­nour continues to be so plac'd, it seems unavoidable to give your Sex, the greater share of the Penalty. But if in this it lieth under any Disadvan­tage, you are more than re­compens'd, by having the Honour of Families in your keeping. The Consideration so great a Trust must give you, maketh full amends; and this Power the World hath lodged in you, can hard­ly fail to restrain the Seve­rity of an ill Husband, and to improve the Kindness and [Page 35] Esteem of a good one. This being so, remember, That next to the danger of com­mitting the Fault your self, the greatest is that of seeing it in your Husband. Do not seem to look or hear that way: If he is a Man of Sense, he will reclaim him­self; the Folly of it, is of it self sufficient to cure him: if he is not so, he will be provok'd, but not reform'd. To expostulate in these Cases, looketh like declaring War, and preparing Reprisals; which to a thinking Husband would be a dangerous Re­flexion. Besides, it is so course a Reason which will be as­sign'd for a Lady's too great Warmth upon such an occa­sion, [Page 36] that Modesty no less than Prudence ought to re­strain her; since such an unde­cent Complaint makes a Wife much more ridiculous, than the Injury that provoketh her to it. But it is yet worse, and more unskilful, to blaze it in the World, expecting it should rise up in Arms to take her part: Whereas she will find, it can have no other Effect, than that she will be served up in all Companies, as the reigning Jest at that time; and will continue to be the common Entertain­ment, till she is rescu'd by some newer Folly that cometh upon the Stage, and driveth her away from it. The Im­pertinence of such Methods [Page 37] is so plain, that it doth not deserve the pains of being laid open. Be assur'd, that in these Cases your Discretion and Silence will be the most prevailing Reproof. An affect­ed Ignorance, which is seldom a Vertue, is a great one here: And when your Husband seeth how unwilling you are to be uneasie, there is no stronger Argument to perswade him not to be unjust to you. Besides, it will na­turally make him more yield­ing in other things: And whe­ther it be to cover or redeem his Offence, you may have the good Effects of it whilest it lasteth, and all that while have the most reasonable Ground that can be, of presu­ming, [Page 38] such a Behaviour will at last entirely convert him. There is nothing so glorious to a Wife, as a Victory so gain'd: A Man so reclaim'd, is for ever after subjected to her Vertue; and her bearing for a time, is more than rewarded by a Triumph that will continue as long as her Life.

The next thing I will sup­pose, is, That your Husband may love Wine more than is convenient. It will be grant­ed, That though there are Vices of a deeper dye, there are none that have greater Deformity than this, when it is not restrain'd: But with all this, the same Custom which is the more to be la­mented for its being so gene­ral, [Page 39] should make it less un­easie to every one in particu­lar who is to suffer by the Effects of it: So that in the first place, it will be no new thing if you should have a Drunkard for your Husband; and there is by too frequent Examples evidence enough, that such a thing may happen, and yet a Wife may live too without being miserable. Self-love dictateth aggravating words to every thing we feel; Ruine and Misery are the Terms we apply to whatever we do not like, forgetting the Mixture allot­ted to us by the Condition of Human Life, by which it is not intended we should be quite exempt from trouble. [Page 40] It is fair, if we can escape such a degree of it as would oppress us, and enjoy so much of the pleasant part as may lessen the ill taste of such things as are unwelcome to us. Every thing hath two Sides, and for our own ease we ought to direct our Thoughts to that which may be least liable to exception. To fall upon the worst side of a Drun­kard, giveth so unpleasant a prospect, that it is not possi­ble to dwell upon it. Let us pass then to the more favoura­ble part, as far as a Wife is con­cern'd in it.

I am tempted to say (if the Irregularity of the Ex­pression could in strictness be justified) That a Wife is to [Page 41] thank God her Husband hath Faults. Mark the seeming Pa­radox my Dear, for your own Instruction, it being in­tended no further. A Hus­band without Faults is a dan­gerous Observer; he hath an Eye so piercing, and seeth eve­ry thing so plain, that it is ex­pos'd to his full Censure. And though I will not doubt but that your Vertue will disap­point the sharpest Enquiries; yet few Women can bear the having all they say or do re­presented in the clear Glass of an Understanding without Faults. Nothing softneth the Arrogance of our Nature, like a Mixture of some Frailties. It is by them we are best told, that we must not strike too [Page 42] hard upon others, because we our selves do so often de­serve Blows: They pull our Rage by the Sleeve, and whisper Gentleness to us in our Censures, even when they are rightly applied. The Faults and Passions of Hus­bands bring them down to you, and make them con­tent to live upon less une­qual Terms, than Faultless Men would be willing to stoop to; so haughty is Man­kind till humbled by com­mon Weaknesses and Defects, which in our corrupted State contribute more towards the reconciling us to one ano­ther, than all the Precepts of the Philosophers and Di­vines. So that where the [Page 43] Errors of our Nature make amends for the Disadvantages of yours it is more your part to make use of the Benefit, than to quarrel at the Fault.

Thus in case a Drunken Husband should fall to your share, if you will be wise and patient, his Wine shall be of your side; it will throw a Veil over your Mistakes, and will set cut and im­prove every thing you do, that he is pleased with. O­thers will like him less, and by that means he may per­haps like you the more. When after having dined too well, he is received at home without a Storm, or so much as a reproaching Look, the Wine will naturally work [Page 44] out all in Kindness, which a Wife must encourage, let it be wrapped up in never so much Impertinence. On the other side it would boil up into Rage, if the mistaken Wife should treat him rough­ly, like a certain thing called a kind Shrew, than which the World, with all its Plenty, cannot shew a more Senseless, ill-bred, forbidding Crea­ture. Consider, that where the Man will give such fre­quent Intermissions of the use of his Reason, the Wife insensibly getteth a Right of Governing in the Vacancy, and that raiseth her Character and Credit in the Family, to a higher pitch than perhaps could be done under a sober [Page 45] Husband, who never putteth himself into an Incapacity of holding the Reins. If these are not intire Consolations, at least they are Remedies to some Degree. They cannot make Drunkenness a Vertue, nor a Husband given to it a Felicity; but you will do your self no ill office in the endeavouring, by these means, to make the best of such a Lot, in case it should hap­pen to be yours, and by the help of a wise Observation, to make that very supporta­ble, which would otherwise be a Load that would oppress you.

The next Case I will put is that your Husband may be Cholerick or Ill-humour'd. [Page 46] To this it may be said, That passionate Men generally make amends at the Foot of the Ac­count. Such a Man, if he is angry one day without any Sense, will the next day be as kind without any Reason. So that by marking how the Wheels of such a Man's Head are used to move, you may easily bring over all his Pas­sion to your Party. Instead of being struck down by his Thunder, you shall direct it where and upon whom you shall think it best ap­plied. Thus are the strongest Poisons turn'd to the best Re­medies; but then there must be Art in it, and a skilful Hand, else the least bungling maketh in mortal. There is [Page 47] a great deal of nice Care re­quisite to deal with a Man of this Complexion. Choler proceedeth from Pride, and maketh a Man so partial to himself that he swelleth a­gainst Contradiction; and thinketh he is lessened if he is opposed. You must in this Case take heed of increasing the Storm by an unwary Word, or kindling the Fire whilst the Wind is in a Corner which may blow it in your Face: You are dextrously to yield every thing till he beginneth to cool, and then by slow degrees you may rise and gain upon him: Your Gentleness well timed, will, like a Charm, dispel his Anger ill placed; a kind [Page 48] Smile will reclaim, when a shrill pettish Answer would provoke him; rather than fail upon such occasions, when other Re­medies are too weak, a little Flattery may be admitted, which by being necessary, will cease to be Criminal.

If Ill-Humours and Sullenness, and not open and sudden Heat is his Disease, there is a way of treating that too, so as to make it a Grievance to be endured. In order to it, you are first to know, that natu­rally good Sense hath a mix­ture of surly in it: and there being so much Folly in the World, and for the most part so trumphant, it giveth fre­quent Temptations to raise the Spleen of Men who think [Page 49] right. Therefore that which may generally be call'd Ill-Humour, is not always a Fault; it becometh one when either it is wrong applied, or that it is continued too long, when it is not so: For this Reason you must not too hastily fix an ill name upon that which may per­haps not deserve it; and though the Case should be, that your Husband might too sowerly resent any thing he disliketh, it may so happen, that more Blame shall be­long to your Mistake, than to his Ill-Humour. If a Hus­band behaveth himself some­times with an Indifference that a Wife may think offen­sive, she is in the wrong to [Page 50] put the worst sence upon it, if by any Means it will ad­mit a better. Some Wives will call it Ill-humour if their Husbands change their Style from that which they used whilst they made their first Addresses to them: Others will allow no Intermission or Abatement in the Expressions of Kindness to them, not e­nough distinguishing Times, and forgetting that it is im­possible for Men to keep themselves up all their Lives to the height of some extrava­gant Moments. A Man may at some times be less careful in little things; without any cold or disobliging Reason for it; as a Wise may be too expecting in smaller matters, [Page 51] without drawing upon herself the inference of being unkind. And if your Husband should be really sullen, and have such frequent Fits, as might take away the excuse of it, it concerneth you to have an Eye prepared to discern the first Appearances of Cloudy Weather, and to watch when the Fit goeth off, which sel­dom lasteth long if it is let a­lone. But whilst the Mind is sore, every thing galleth it, and that maketh it necessary to let the Black Humour begin to spend it self, before you come in and venture to undertake it.

If in the Lottery of the World you should draw a Covetous Husband, I confess it [Page 52] will not make you proud of your good Luck; yet even such a one may be endured too, though there are few Passions more untractable than that of Avarice. You must first take care that your Definition of Avarice may not be a Mistake. You are to examine every Circumstance of your Husband's Fortune, and weigh the Reason of every thing you expect from him before you have right to pronounce that sentence. The Complaint is now so ge­neral against all Husbands, that it giveth great suspicion of its being often ill-groun­ded; it is impossible they should all deserve that Cen­sure, and therefore it is cer­tain, [Page 53] that it is many times misapplied. He that spareth in every thing is an inexcusa­ble Niggard; he that spareth in nothing is as inexcusable a Madman. The mean is, to spare in what is least necessa­ry, to lay out more liberally in what is most required in our several circumstances. Yet this will not always satis­fie. There are Wives who are impatient of the Rules of Oeconomy, and are apt to call their Husband's Kindness in question, if any other mea­sure is put to their expence than that of their own Fan­cy. Be sure to avoid this dangerous Error, such a par­tiality to your Self, which is so offensive to an understand­ing [Page 54] Man, that he will very ill bear a Wife's giving her self such an injurious preference to all the Family, and whatever belongeth to it.

But to admit the worst, and that your Husband is really a Close-handed Wretch, you must in this, as in other Cases, endeavour to make it less af­flicting to you; and first you must observe seasonable hours of speaking. When you of­fer any thing in opposition to this reigning Humour, a third hand and a wise Friend, may often prevail more than you will be allowed to do in your own Cause. Sometimes you are deuterously to go along with him in things, where you see that the niggardly part of [Page 55] his Mind is most predomi­nant, by which you will have the better opportunity of per­swading him in things where he may be more indifferent. Our Passions are very unequal, and are apt to be raised or lessened, according as they work upon different Objects; they are not to be stopped or restrained in those things where our Mind is more par­ticularly engaged. In other matters they are more tracta­ble, and will sometimes give Reason a hearing, and admit a fair Dispute. More than that, there are few Men, e­ven in this instance of Avarice, so intirely abandoned to it, that at some hours, and upon some occasions, will not for­get [Page 56] their natures, and for that time turn Prodigal. The same Man who will grudge himself what is necessary, let his Pride be raised and he shall be profuse; at another time his Anger shall have the same effect; a fit of Vanity, Ambition, and sometimes of Kindness, shall open and in­large his narrow Mind; a Dose of Wine will work upon this tough humor, and for the time dissolve it. Your business must be, if this Case happeneth, to watch these critical moments, and not let one of them slip without making your advan­tage of it: and a Wife may be said to want skill, if by these means she is not able to secure her self in a good measure a­gainst [Page 57] the Inconveniences this scurvy quality in a Husband might bring upon her, ex­cept he should be such an in­curable Monster; as I hope will never fall to your share.

The last supposition I will make, is, That your Husband should be weak and incompe­tent to make use of the Privi­leges that belong to him. It will be yielded, that such a one leaveth room for a great many Objections. But God, Almighty seldom sendeth a Grievance without a Remedy, or at least such a Mitigation as taketh away a great part of the sting, and the smart of it. To make such a Misfortune [...] less heavy, you are first to [Page 58] bring to your Observation, That a Wife very often ma­keth better Figure, for her Hus­band's making no great one: And there seemeth to be lit­tle reason, why the same La­dy that chuseth a Waiting-Woman with worse Looks, may not be content with a Hus­band with less Wit; the Ar­gument being equal from the advantage of the Compari­son. If you will be more a­shamed in some Cases, of such a Husband, you will be less afraid than you would per­haps be of a wise one. His Ʋnseasonable Weakness may no doubt sometimes grieve you, but then set against this, that it giveth you the Dominion, if you will make the right [Page 59] use of it. It is next to his be­ing dead, in which Case the Wife hath right to Admini­ster; therefore be sure, if you have such an Idiot, that none, except your self, may have the benefit of the forfeiture; Such a Fool is a dangerous Beast, if others have the keep­ing of him; and you must be very undexterous if when your Husband shall resolve to be an Ass, you do not take care he may be your Ass. But you must go skilfully about it, and above all things, take heed of distinguishing in publick what kind of Husband he is: Your inward thoughts must not hinder the outward pay­ment of the consideration that is due to him: Your slight­ing [Page 60] him in Company, besides that it would, to a discerning By stander, give too great en­couragement for the making nearer applications to you, is in it self such an undecent way of assuming, that it may pro­voke the tame Creature to break loose, and to shew his Dominion for his Credit, which he was content to forget for his Ease. In short, the surest and the most approved me­thod will be to do like a wise Minister to an easie Prince; first give him the Orders you afterwards receive from him.

With all this, that which you are to pray for; is a Wise Husband, one that by knowing how to be a Master, for that ve­ry [Page 61] reason will not let you feel the weight of it; one whose Authority is so soften'd by his Kindness, that it giveth you ease without abridging your Liberty; one that will return so much tenderness for your Just Esteem of him, that you will never want power, though you will seldom care to use it. Such a Husband is as much above all the other Kinds of them, as a rational subjection to a Prince, great in himself, is to be preferr'd before the disquiet and uneasiness of Ʋnli­mited Liberty.

Before I leave this Head, I must add a little concerning your Behaviour to your Hus­band's Friends, which requi­reth the most refined part of [Page 62] your Understanding to ac­quit your self well of it. You are to study how to live with them with more care than you are to apply to any other part of your Life; especially at first, that you may not stum­ble at the first setting out. The Family into which you are grafted will generally be apt to expect, that like a Stran­ger in a Foreign Country, you should conform to their Me­thods, and not bring in a new Model by your own Authori­ty. The Friends in such a Case are tempted to rise up in Arms as against an unlawful Invasion, so that you are with the utmost Caution to avoid the least appearances of any thing of this Kind. And that [Page 63] you may with less difficulty afterwards give your Dire­ctions, be sure at first to re­ceive them from your Hus­band's Friends. Gain them to you by early applying to them, and they will be so sa­tisfied, that as nothing is more thankful than Pride, when it is complied with, they will strive which of them shall most recommend you; and when they have helped you to take Root in your Husband's good Opinion, you will have less dependence upon theirs, though you must not neglect any reasonable means of pre­serving it. You are to con­sider, that a Man govern'd by his Friends, is very easily in­flamed by them; and that one [Page 64] who is not so, will yet for his own sake expect to have them consider'd. It is easily impro­ved to a point of Honour in a Husband, not to have his Re­lations neglected; and nothing is more dangerous, than to raise an Objection, which is grounded upon Pride: It is the most stubborn and lasting Pas­sion we are subject to, and where it is the first cause of the War, it is very hard to make a secure Peace. Your Caution in this is of the last importance to you.

And that you may the bet­ter succeed in it, carry a strict Eye upon the Impertinence of your Servants; take heed that their Ill-humour may not en­gage you to take Exceptions, [Page 65] or their too much assuming in small matters, raise Conse­quences which may bring you under great Disadvantage. Remember that in the case of a Royal Bride, those about her are generally so far suspected to bring in a Foreign Interest, that in most Countries they are insensibly reduced to a very small number, and those of so low a Figure, that it doth not admit the being Jealous of them. In little and in the Proportion, this may be the Case of every New married Woman, and there­fore it may be more adviseable for you, to gain the Servants you find in a Family than to tie your self too fast to those you carry into it.

[Page 66] You are not to overlook these small Reflections, because they may appear low and in­considerable; for it may be said, that as the greatest streams are made up of the small drops at the head of the Springs from whence they are derived, so the greater circumstances of your Life, will be in some degree di­rected by these seeming trifles, which having the advantage of being the first acts of it, have a greater effect than singly in their own nature they could pretend to.

I will conclude this Article with my Advice, That you would, as much as Nature will give you leave, endea­vour to forget the great In­dulgence you have found at [Page 67] home. After such a gentle Discipline as you have been under, every thing you dis­like will seem the harsher to you. The tenderness we have had for you, My Dear, is of another nature, peculiar to kind Parents, and differing from that which you will meet with first in any Family into which you shall be transplant­ed; and yet they may be very kind too, and afford no justi­fiable reason to you to com­plain. You must not be fright­ed with the first Appearances of a differing Scene; for when you are used to it, you may like the House you go to, bet­ter than that you left; and your Husband's Kindness will have so much advantage of [Page 68] ours, that we shall yield up all Competition, and as well as we love you, be very well contented to Surrender to such a Rival.

HOƲSE, FAMILY, and CHILDREN.

YOU must lay before you, My Dear, there are de­grees of Care to recommend your self to the World in the several parts of your Life. In many things, though the do­ing them well may raise your Credit and Esteem, yet the o­mission of them would draw no immediate reproach upon you: In others, where your duty is more particularly ap­plyed, [Page 69] the neglect of them is amongst those Faults which are not forgiven, and will bring you under a Censure, which will be much a heavier thing than the trouble you would avoid. Of this kind is the Government of your House, Family, and Children, which since it is the Province allotted to your Sex, and that the discharging it well, will for that reason be expected from you, if you either desert it out of Laziness, or manage it ill for want of skill, instead of a Help you will be an Incumbrance to the Family where you are placed.

I must tell you, that no re­spect is lasting, but that which is produced by our being in [Page 70] some degree useful to those that pay it. Where that fail­eth, the Homage and the Re­verence go along with it, and fly to others where something may be expected in exchange for them. And upon this principle the respects even of the Children and the Servants will not stay with one that doth not think them worth their Care, and the old House­keeper shall make a better Fi­gure in the Family, than the Lady with all her fine Cloaths, if she wilfully relinquishes her Title to the Government. Therefore, take heed of car­rying your good Breeding to such a height, as to be good for nothing, and to be proud of it. Some think it hath a great [Page 71] Air to be above troubling their thoughts with such ordi­nary things as their House and Family; others dare not ad­mit Cares for fear they should hasten Wrinkles? mistaken Pride maketh some think they must keep themselves up, and not descend to these Duties, which do not seem enough re­fined for great Ladies to be imploy'd in; forgetting all this while, that it is more than the greatest Princes can do, at once to preserve respect, and to neglect their Business. No Age ever erected Altars to in­significant Gods; they had all some quality applied to them to draw worship from Man­kind; this maketh it the more unreasonable for a Lady to ex­pect [Page 72] to be consider'd, and at the same time resolve not to deserve it. Good looks alone will not do; they are not such a lasting Tenure, as to be relied upon; and if they should stay longer than they usually do, it will by no means be safe to depend upon them: For when time hath abated the violence of the first li­king, and that the Napp is a little worn off, though still a good degree of kindness may remain, Men recover their sight which before might be dazell'd, and allow them­selves to object as well as to ad­mire.

In such a Case, when a Hus­band seeth an empty airy thing sail up and down the [Page 73] House to no kind of purpose, and look as if she came thi­ther only to make a Visit. When he findeth that after her Emptiness hath been ex­treme busie about some ve­ry senseless thing, she eats her Breakfast half an hour before Dinner, to be at greater liberty to afflict the Company with her Discourse; then calleth for her Coach, that she may trouble her Acquaintance, who are al­ready cloy'd with her: And having some proper Dialogues ready to display her Foolish Eloquence at the top of the Stairs, she setteth out like a Ship out of the Harbour, la­den with trifles and cometh back with them: at her re­turn she repeateth to her [Page 74] faithful waiting-Woman, the Triumphs of that day's Im­pertinence; then wrap'd up in Flattery and clean Linen, goeth to Bed so satisfied, that it throweth her into pleasant Dreams of her own Felicity. Such a one is seldom serious but with her Taylor; her Chil­dren and Family may now and then have a random thought, but she never ta­keth aim but at something ve­ry Impertinent. I say, when a Husband, whose Province is without Doors, and to whom the Oeconomy of the House would be in some degree Indecent, findeth no Order nor Quiet in his Fa­mily, meeteth with Complaints of all kinds-springing from [Page 75] this Root; The Mistaken La­dy, who thinketh to make a­mends for all this, by hav­ing a well-chosen Petty Coat, will at last be convinced of her Error, and with grief be forced to undergo the Pe­nalties that belong to those who are willfully Insignificant. When this scurvy hour com­eth upon her, she first grow­eth Angry; then when the time of it is past, would per­haps grow wiser, not remem­bring that we can no more have Wisdom than Grace, whenever we think fit to call for it. There are Times and Pe­riods fix'd for both; and when they are too long neglected, the Punishment is, that they are Irrecoverable, and nothing [Page 76] remaineth but an useless Grief for the Folly of having thrown them out of our power. You are to think what a mean Fi­gure a Woman maketh, when she is so degraded by her own Fault; whereas there is nothing in those Duties which are expected from you, that can be a lessening to you except your want of Conduct makes it so. You may love your Children without living in the Nursery, and you may have a competent and discreet care of them, without letting it break out upon the Compa­ny, or exposing your self by turning your Discourse that way, which is a kind of Lay­ing Children to the Parish, and it can hardly be done any [Page 77] where, that those who hear it will be so forgiving, as not to think they are over­charged with them. A Wo­man's tenderness to her Chil­dren is one of the least deceit­ful Evidences of the Vertue; but yet the way of expres­sing it, must be subject to the Rules of good Breeding: And though a Woman of Quality ought not to be less kind to them, than Mothers of the Meanest Rank are to theirs, yet she may distinguish her self in the manner, and avoid the course Methods, which in Women of a lower size might be more excusable. You must begin early to make them love you, that they may o­bey you. This Mixture is no [Page 78] where more necessary than in Children And I must tell you, that you are not to expect Returns of Kindness from yours, if ever you have any, without Grains of Allow­ance; and yet it is not so much a defect in their good Nature, as a shortness of Thought in them. Their first Insuffi­ciency maketh them lean so entirely upon their Parents for what is necessary, that the habit of it maketh them con­tinue the same Expectations for what is unreasonable; and as often as they are denied, so often they think they are in­jured: and whilst their De­sires are strong, and their Rea­sons yet in the Cradle, their Anger looketh no farther than [Page 79] the thing they long for and cannot have; And to be dis­pleased for their own good, is a Maxim they are very slow to understand: So that you may conclude, the first Thoughts of your Children will have no small Mixture of Mutiny; which being so natural, you must not be an­gry, except you would in­crease it. You must deny them as feldom as you can, and when there is no avoid­ing it, you must do it gently; you must flatter away their ill Humour, and take the next Opportunity of pleasing them in some other thing, before they either ask or look for it: This will strengthen your Authority, by making it [Page 80] soft to them; and confirm their Obedience, by making it their Interest You are to have as strict a Guard upon your self amongst your Chil­dren, as if you were amongst your Enemies. They are apt to make wrong Inferences, to take Encouragement from half Words, and misapply what you may say or do, so as either to lessen their Duty, or to extend their Liberty far­ther than is convenient. Let them be more in awe of your Kindness than of your Power. And above all, take heed of supporting a Favourite Child in its Impertinence, which will give Right to the rest of claiming the same Privilege. If you have a divided Num­ber, [Page 81] leave the Boys to the Fa­ther's more peculiar Care, that you may with the greater Ju­stice pretend to a more imme­diate Jurisdiction over those of your own Sex. You are to live so with them, that they may never chuse to a­void you, except when they have offended; and then let them tremble, that they may distinguish: But their Pe­nance must not continue so long as to grow too sowre up­on their Stomachs, that it may not harden in stead of correct­ing them: The kind and se­vere Part must have their se­veral turns seasonably appli­ed; but your Indulgence is to have the broader mixture, that Love, rather than Fear, [Page 82] may be the Root of their Obe­dience.

Your Servants are in the next place to be considered; and you must remember not to fall into the mistake of thinking, that because they receive Wages, and are so much Inferiour to you, there­fore they are below your Care to know how to manage them. It would be as good Reason for a Master Workman to despise the Wheels of his Engines, because they are made of Wood. These are the Wheels of your Family; and let your Directions be never so faultless, yet if these En­gines stop or move wrong, the whole Order of your House is either at a stand, or [Page 83] discomposed. Besides, the Inequality which is between you, must not make you forget, that Nature maketh no such distinction, but that Servants may be looked up­on as humble Friends, and that Returns of Kindness and good Ʋsage are as much due to such of them as deserve it, as their Service is due to us when we require it. A fool­ish haughtiness in the Style of speaking, or in the manner of commanding them, is in it self very undecent; besides that it begetteth an Aversion in them, of which the least ill Effect to be expected, is, that they will be slow and careless in all that is injoyned them: And you will find it true by [Page 84] your Experience, that you will be so much the more obeyed as you are less Impe­rious. Be not too hasty in gi­ving your Orders, nor too an­gry when they are not alto­gether observed; much less are you to be loud, and too much disturbed: An evenness in distinguishing when they do well or ill, is that which will make your Family move by a Rule, and without Noise, and will the better set out your Skill in conducting it with Ease and Silence, that it may be like a well disci­plin'd Army; which knoweth how to anticipate the Orders that are fit to be given them. You are never to neglect the Duty of the present Hour, to [Page 85] do another thing, which though it may be better in it self, is not to be unseaso­nably preferred. Allot well chosen Hours for the Inspe­ction of your Family, which may be so distinguished from the rest of your Time, that the necessary Cares may come in their proper Place, with­out any Influence upon your good Humour, or Interrup­tion to other things. By these Methods you will put your self in possession of being valued by your Servants, and then their Obedience will natu­rally follow.

I must not forget one of the greatest Articles belong­ing to a Family, which is the Expence. It must not be such, [Page 86] as by failing either in the Time or measure of it, may rather draw Censure than gain Applause. If it was well exa­mined, there is more Money given to be laughed at, than for any one thing in the World, though the Purcha­sers do not think so. A well­stated Rule is like the Line, when that is once pass'd we are under another Pole; so the first straying from a Rule, is a step towards making that which was before a Ver­tue, to change its Nature, and to grow either into a Vice, or at least an Imper­nence. The Art of laying out Money wisely, is not attain­ed to without a great deal of thought; and it is yet more [Page 87] difficult in the Case of a Wife, who is accountable to her Husband for her mistakes in it. It is not only his Mo­ney, his Credit too is at Stake, if what lyeth under the Wife's Care is managed, either with undecent Thrift, or too loose Profusion. You are therefore to keep the Mean between these two Extremes, and it being hardly possible to hold the Balance exactly even, let it rather incline towards the Liberal side as more suitable to your Quality, and less sub­ject to Reproach. Of the two a little Money mispent is soon­er recovered, than the Credit which is lost by having it un­handsomely saved; and a Wise Husband will less for­give [Page 88] a shameful piece of Par­cimony, than a little Extrava­gance, if it be not too often repeated. His Mind in this must be your chief Direction; and his Temper, when once known, will in great mea­sure justifie your part in the management, if he is pleased with it.

In your Clothes avoid too much Gaudy; do not value your self upon an Imbroide­red Gown; and remember, that a reasonable Word, or an obliging Look, will gain you more respect; than all your fine Trappings. This is not said to restrain you from a decent Compliance with the World, provided you take the wiser, and not the foo­lisher [Page 89] part of your Sex for your Pattern. Some distincti­ons are to be allowed, whilst they are well suited to your Quality and Fortune, and in the distribution of the Ex­pence, it seemeth to me that a full Attendance, and well cho­sen Ornaments for your House, will make you a better Fi­gure, than too much glittering in what you wear, which may with more ease be imitated by those that are below you. Yet this must not tempt you to starve every thing but your own Appartment; or in or­der to more abundance there, give just cause to the least Servant you have, to com­plain of the Want of what is necessary. Above all, fix [Page 90] it in your thoughts, as an unchangeable Maxim, That nothing is truly fine but what is fit, and that just so much as is proper for your Circum­stances of their several kinds, is much finer than all you can add to it. When you once break through these bounds, you launch into a wide Sea of Extravagance. Every thing will become necessary, be­cause you have a mind to it; and you have a mind to it, not because it is fit for you, but because some body else hath it. This Lady's Logick setteth Reason upon its Head, by car­rying the Rule from things to Persons, and appealing from what is right to every Fool that is in the wrong. The [Page 91] word necessary is miserably applyed, it disordereth Fami­lies, and overturneth Govern­ments by being so abused. Remember that Children and Fools want every thing be­cause they want Wit to di­stinguish: and therefore there is no stronger Evidence of a Crazy Ʋnderstanding, than the making too large a Ca­talogue of things necessary, when in truth there are so very few things that have a right to be placed in it. Try every thing first in your Judg­ment, before you allow it a place in your Desire; else your Husband may think it as ne­cessary for him to deny, as it is for you to have what­ever is unreasonable; and if [Page 92] you shall too often give him that advantage, the habit of refusing may perhaps reach to things that are not unfit for you.

There are unthinking La­dies, who do not enough consider, how little their own Figure agreeth with the fine things they are so proud of. Others when they have them will hardly allow them to be visible; they cannot be seen without Light, and that is many times so sawcy and so prying, that like a too for­ward Gallant it is to be for­bid the Chamber. Some, when you are ushered into their Dark Ruelle, it is with such solemnity, that a Man would swear there was something [Page 93] in it, till the Ʋnskilful Lady breaketh silence, and begin­neth a Chat, which discover­eth it is a Puppet-play with Magnificent Scenes. Many esteem things rather as they are hard to be gotten, than that they are worth getting: This looketh as if they had an Interest to pursue that Maxim, because a great part of their own value dependeth upon it. Truth in these Ca­ses would be often unman­nerly, and might derogate from the Prerogative, great Ladies would assume to them­selves, of being distinct Crea­tures from those of their Sex, which are inferiour, and of less difficult access.

[Page 94] In other things too, your Condition must give the rule to you, and therefore it is not a Wife's part to aim at more than a bounded Libe­rality; the farther extent of that Quality (otherwise to be commended) belongeth to the Husband, who hath bet­ter means for it. Generosity wrong placed becometh a Vice. It is no more a Vertue when it groweth into an In­convenience, Vertues must be inlarged or restrained ac­cording to differing Circum­stances. A Princely Mind will undo a private Family: There­fore things must be suited, or else they will not deserve to be Commended, let them in themselves be never so valu­able: [Page 95] And the Expectations of the World are best answer­ed when we acquit our selves in that manner which seem­eth to be prescribed to our several Conditions, without usurping upon those Duties, which do not so particularly belong to us.

I will close the considera­tion of this Article of Ex­pence, with this short word. Do not fetter your self with such a Restraint in it as may make you Remarkable; but remember that Vertue is the greatest Ornament, and good Sence the best Equipage.

BEHAVIOƲR and CON­VERSATION.

IT is time now to lead you out of your House into the World. A Dangerous step; where your Vertue alone will not secure you except it is at­tended with a great deal of Prudence. You must have both for your Guard, and not stir without them. The Ene­my is abroad, and you are sure to be taken, if you are found stragling. Your Beha­viour is therefore to incline strongly towards the Reser­ved part; your Character is to be immoveably fixed upon that Bottom, not excluding [Page 97] a mixture of greater freedom, as far as it may be innocent and well-timed. The Extra­vagancies of the Age have made Caution more necessary; and by the same reason that the too great Licence of ill Men hath by Consequence in many things restrained the Lawful Liberty of those who did not abuse it, the un­justifiable Freedoms of some of your Sex have involved the rest in the Penalty of be­ing reduced. And though this cannot so alter the Nature of things, as to make that Criminal, which in it self is Indifferent; yet if it maketh it dangerous, that alone is suf­ficient to justifie the Restraint. A close behaviour is t [...] [...]ttest [Page 96] [...] [Page 97] [...] [Page 98] to receive Vertue for its con­stant Guest, because there, and there only, it can be secure. Proper Reserves are the Out­works, and must never be de­serted by those who intend to keep the Place; they keep off the possibilities not only of being taken, but of being attempted; and if a Woman seeth Danger tho at never so remote a Distance, she is for that time to shorten her Line of Liberty. She who will allow her self to go to the utmost Extent of every thing that is Lawful, is so very near going farther, that those who lie at watch, will begin to count upon her.

Mankind, from the double temptation of Vanity and De­sire, [Page 99] is apt to turn every thing a Woman doth to the hopesul side; and there are sew who dare make an impudent Ap­plication, till they discern something which they are willing to take for an Encou­ragement. It is safer therefore to prevent such Forwardness, than to go about to cure it. It gathereth Strength by the first allowances, and claimeth a Right from having been at a­ny time suffered with Impu­nity. Therefore nothing is with more care to be avoid­ed, than such a kind of Civi­lity as may be mistaken for Invitation; and it will not be enough for you to keep your self free from any criminal Engagements; for if you do [Page 100] that which either raiseth Hopes or createth Discourse, there is a Spot thrown upon your Good Name; and those kind of Stains are the harder to be taken out, being dropped upon you by the Man's Va­nity, as well as by the Woman's Malice.

Most Men are in one sence Platonick Lovers, though they are not willing to own that Character. They are so far Philosophers, as to allow, that the greatest part of Pleasure lieth in the Mind; and in pursuance of that Maxim, there are few who do not place the Felicity more in the Opinion of the World, of their being prosperous Lo­vers, than in the Blessing it self, [Page 101] how much soever they appear to value it. This being so, you must be very cautious not to gratifie these Camele­ons at the price of bringing a Cloud upon your Reputation, which may be deeply wounded, tho your Conscience is uncon­cerned.

Your own Sex too will not fail to help the least Appear­ance that giveth a Handle to be ill-turned. The best of them will not be displea­sed to improve their own Value, by laying others un­der a Disadvantage, when there is a fair Occasion given for it. It distinguisheth them still the more: their own Credit is more exalted, and, like a Picture set off with [Page 102] Shades, shineth more when a Lady, either less Innocent, or less Discreet is set near, to make them appear so much the brighter. If these lend their Breath to blast such as are so unwary as to give them this Advantage, you may be sure there will be a stronger Gale from those, who, besides Malice or Emulation, have an Interest too, to strike hard upon a Vertuous Woman. It seemeth to them, that their Load of Infamy is lessened, by throwing part of it upon others: So that they will not only improve when it lieth in their way, but take pains to find out the least mistake an Innocent Woman commit­teth, in Revenge of the In­jury [Page 103] she doth in leading a Life which is a Reproach to them. With these you must be extreme wary, and neither provoke them to be angry, nor invite them to be Inti­mate.

To the Men you are to have a Behaviour which may secure you, without offend­ing them. No ill-bred affe­cted Shyness, nor a Roughness, unsuitable to your Sex, and unnecessary to your Vertue; but a way of Living that may prevent all course Railleries or unmannerly Freedoms; Looks that forbid without Rude­ness, and oblige without In­vitation, or leaving room for the sawcy Inferences Men's Vanity suggesteth to them [Page 104] upon the least Encourage­ments. This is so very nice, that it must engage you to have a perpetual Watch upon your Eyes, and to remember, that one careless Glance gi­veth more advantage than a hundred Words not enough considered; the Language of the Eyes being very much the most significant, and the most observed.

Your Civility, which is al­ways to be preserved, must not be carried to a Compliance, which may betray you into irrecoverable Mistakes. This French ambiguous word Com­plaisance hath led your Sex into more blame, than all other things put together. It carrieth them by degrees in­to [Page 105] a certain thing called a good kind of Woman, an easie Idle Creature, that doth nei­ther Good nor Ill but by chance, hath no Choice, but leaveth that to the Company she keepeth. Time, which by degrees addeth to the signi­fication of Words, hath made her, according to the Modern Stile, little better than one who thinketh it a Rudeness to deny when civilly requi­red, either her Service in Per­son, or her friendly Assistance, to those who would have a meeting, or want a Confident. She is a certain thing always at hand, an easie Companion, who hath ever great Compassion for distressed Lovers: She cen­sureth nothing but Rigor, [Page 106] and is never without a Plaister for a wounded Reputation, in which chiefly lieth her Skill in Chirurgery; She seldom hath the Propriety of any par­ticular Gallant, but liveth up­on Brokage, and waiteth for the Scraps her Friends are con­tent to leave her.

There is another Character not quite so Criminal, yet not less Ridiculous; which is that of a good-humour'd Woman, one who thinketh she must always be in a Laugh, or a broad Smile, because Good­humour is an obliging Qua­lity; thinketh it less ill man­ners to talk Impertinently, than to be silent in Company. When such a prating Engine rideth Admiral, and carrieth [Page 107] the Lantern, in a Circle of Fools, a cheerful Coxcomb com­ing in for a Recruit, the Chat­tering of Monkeys is a better noise than such a Concert of senceless Merriment. If she is applauded in it, she is so en­couraged, that, like a Bal­lad singer, who if commend­ed, breaketh his Lungs, she letteth her self loose, and o­verfloweth upon the Compa­ny. She conceiveth that Mirth is to have no inter­mission, and therefore she will carry it about with her, though it be to a Funeral; and if a Man should put a familiar Question, she doth not know very well how to be angry, for then she would be no more that pretty thing [Page 108] called a Good humour'd Wo­man. This necessity of appea­ring at all times to be so infi­nitely pleased is a grievous mistake; since in a handsom Woman that Invitation is un­necessary; and in one who is not so, ridiculous. It is not intended by this, that you should forswear Laughing; but remember, that Fools being always painted in that posture, it may fright those who are wise from doing it too frequently, and going too near a Copy which is so little inviting, and much more from doing it loud, which is an unnatural Sound and look­eth so much like another Sex, that few things are more of­fensive. That boisterous kind [Page 109] of Jollity is as contrary to Wit and Good Manners, as it is to Modesty and Vertue. Besides, it is a course kind of quali­ty, that throweth a Woman into a lower Form, and de­gradeth her from the Rank of those who are more refi­ned. Some Ladies speak loud and make a noise to be the more minded, which look­eth as if they beat their Drums for Volunteers, and if by mis­fortune none come in to them, they may, not without rea­son, be a good deal out of Countenance.

There is one shing, yet more to be avoided, which is the Example of those who intend nothing farther than the Vanity of Conquest, and [Page 110] think themselves secure of not having their Honour tainted by it. Some are apt to be­lieve their Vertue is too Ob­scure, and not enough known, except it is exposed to a broader Light, and set out to its best advantage, by some publick Trials. These are dan­gerous experiments, and ge­nerally fail, being built upon so weak a foundation, as that of a too great Confidence in our selves. It is as safe to play with Fire, as to dally with Gallantry. Love is a Passion that hath Friends in the Gar­rison, and for that reason must by a Woman be kept at such a distance, that she may not be within the dan­ger of doing the most usual [Page 111] thing in the World, which is conspiring against her Self: Else the humble Gallant, who is only admitted as a Trophy, very often becometh the Conquerour; he putteth on the style of victory, and from an Admirer groweth into a Master, for so he may be called from the moment he is in Possession. The first Reso­lutions of stopping at good O­pinion and Esteem, grow weaker by degrees against the Charms of Courtship skil­fully applied. A Lady is apt to think a Man speaketh so much reason whilst he is Com­mending her, that she hath much ado to believe him in the wrong when he is making Love to her: And when [Page 112] besides the natural Induce­ments your Sex hath to be merciful, she is bribed by well chosen Flattery, the poor Creature is in danger of being caught like a Bird listening to the Whistle of one that hath a Snare for it. Conquest is so tempting a thing, that it of­ten maketh Women mistake Men's Submissions; which with all their fair Appearance, have generally less Respect than Art in them. You are to remem­ber, that Men who say ex­treme fine things, many times say them most for their own sakes; and that the vain Gal­lant is often as well pleased with his own Compliments, as he could be with the kindest answer. Where there is not [Page 113] that Ostentation you are to suspect there is Design. And as strong perfumes are seldom used but where they are ne­cessary to smother an unwel­come scent; so Excessive good Words leave room to be­lieve they are strewed to co­ver something, which is to gain admittance under a Dis­guise. You must therefore be upon your Guard, and con­sider, that of the two, Re­spect is more dangerous than Anger. It puts even the best Understandings out of their place for the time, till their second thoughts restore them; it stealeth upon us insensibly, throweth down our Defences, and maketh it too late to re­sist, after we have given it [Page 114] that advantage. Whereas rai­ling goeth away in sound; it hath so much noise in it, that by giving warning it bespea­keth Caution. Respect is a slow and a sure Poison, and like Poison swelleth us within our selves. Where it prevaileth too much, it groweth to be a kind of Apoplexie in the Mind, turneth it quite round, and after it hath once seized the understanding, becometh mortal to it. For these rea­sons, the safest way is to treat it like a sly Enemy, and to be perpetually upon the watch a­gainst it.

I will add one Advice to conclude this head, which is that you will let every seven years make some alteration in [Page 115] you towards the Graver side, and not be like the Girls of Fifty, who resolve to be al­ways Young, whatever Time with his Iron Teeth hath de­termined to the contrary. Unnatural things carry a De­formity in them never to be Disguised; the Liveliness of Youth in a riper Age, looketh like a new patch upon an old Gown; so that a Gay Matron, a cheerful old Fool may be rea­sonably put into the List of the Tamer kind of Monsters. There is a certain Creature call'd a Grave Hobby-Horse, a kind of a she Numps, that pretendeth to be pulled to a Play, and must needs go to Bartholomew Fair, to look af­ter the young Folks, whom she [Page 116] only seemeth to make her care, in reality she taketh them for her excuse. Such an old Butterfly is of all Creatures, the most ridiculous, and the soonest found out. It is good to be early in your Caution, to avoid any thing that com­eth within distance of such despicable Patterns, and not like some Ladies, who defer their Conversion, till they have been so long in possession of being laughed at, that the World doth not know how to change their style, e­ven when they are reclaimed from that which gave the first occasion for it.

The advantages of being reserved are too many to be set down, I will only say, that [Page 117] it is a Guard to a good Woman, and a Disguise to an ill one. It is of so much use to both, that those ought to use it as an Ar­tifice, who refuse to practise it as a Vertue.

FRIENDSHIPS.

I Must in a particular man­ner recommend to you a strict Care in the Choice of your Friendships. Perhaps the best are not without their Objections, but however, be sure that yours may not stray from the Rules which the wi­ser part of the World hath set to them. The Leagues Offen­sive [Page 118] and Defensive, seldom hold in Politicks, and much less in Friendships. The violent Inti­macies, when once broken, of which they scarce ever fail, make such a Noise; the Bag of Secrets untied, they fly a­bout like Birds let loose from a Cage, and become the En­tertainment of the Town. Be­sides, these great Dearnesses by degrees grow Injurious to the rest of your Acquaintance, and throw them off from you. There is such an Offensive Distinction when the Dear Friend cometh into the Room, that it is flinging Stones at the Company, who are not apt to forgive it.

Do not lay out your Friend­ship too lavishly at first, since [Page 119] it will, like other things, be so much the sooner spent; neither let it be of too sud­den a growth; for as the Plants which shoot up too fast are not of that continuance, as those which take more time for it; so too swift a Progress in pouring out your Kindness, is a certain Sign that by the Course of Nature it will not be long-lived. You will be responsible to the World, if you pitch upon such Friends as at the time are under the weight of any Criminal Ob­jection. In that case you will bring your self under the disadvantages of their Cha­racter, and must bear your part of it. Chusing implieth Approving; and if you fix [Page 120] upon a Lady for your Friend against whom the World shall have given Judgment, 'tis not so well natur'd as to believe you are altogether averse to her way of living, since it doth not discourage you from Admitting her into your Kindness. And Resem­blance of Inclinations being thought none of the least Inducements to Friendship, you will be looked upon at least as a Well-wisher if not a Partner with her in her Faults. If you can forgive them in an­other, it may be presumed you will not be less gentle to your self; and therefore you must not take it ill, if you are rec­koned a Croupiere, and con­demned to pay an equal Share [Page 121] with such a Friend of the Re­putation she hath lost.

If it happeneth that your Friend should fall from the State of Innocence after your Kindness was engaged to her, you may be slow in your be­lief in the beginning of the Discovery: But as soon as you are convinced by a Ra­tional Evidence, you must, without breaking too roughly, make a far and a quick Retreat from such a Mistaken Acquain­tance: Else by moving too slowly from one that is so tainted, the Contagion may reach you so far as to give you part of the Scandal, though not of the Guilt. This Mat­ter is so nice, that as you must not be too hasty to joyn in [Page 122] the Censure upon your Friend when she is accused, so you are not on the other side to defend her with too much warmth; for if she should happen to deserve the Re­port of Common Fame, besides the Vexation that belongeth to such a mistake, you will draw an ill appearance upon your self, and it will be thought you pleaded for her not without some Considera­tion of your self. The Anger which must be put on to vin­dicate the Reputation of an injured Friend, may incline the Company to suspect you would not be so zealous, if there was not a possibility that the Case might be your own. For this reason you are [Page 123] not to carry your dearness so far, as absolutely to lose your Sight where your Friend is concerned. Because Malice is too quick sighted, it doth not follow, that Friendship must be blind: There is to be a Mean between these two Extremes, else your Excess of Good Nature may betray you into a very ridiculous Figure, and by degrees who may be pre­ferr'd to such Offices as you will not be proud of. Your Ignorance may lessen the Guilt, but will improve the Jest up­on you, who shall be kind­ly sollicitous to procure a Meeting, and innocently con­tribute to the ills you would avoid: Whilest the Contriving Lovers, when they are alone, [Page 124] shall make you the Subject of their Mirth, and perhaps (with respect to the Goddess of Love be it spoken) it is not the worst part of their Entertainment, at least it is the most lasting, to laugh at the believing Friend, who was so easily deluded.

Let the good Sence of your Friends be a chief Ingredient in your Choice of them; else ret your Reputation be never so clear, it may be clouded by their Impertinence. It is like our Houses being in the Power of a Drunken or a Care­less Neighbour; only so much worse, as that there will be no Insurance here to make you amends, as there is in the Case of Fire.

[Page 125] To conclude this Para­graph; If Formality is to be allowed in any Instance, it is to be put on to resist the In­vasion of such forward Wo­men as shall press themselves into your Friendship, where if admitted, they will either be a Snare or an Incum­brance.

CENSƲRE.

I will come next to the Consideration, how you are to manage your Censure; in which both Care and skill will be a good deal required. To distinguish is not only na­tural [Page 126] but necessary; and the Effect of it is, That we can­not avoid giving Judgment in our Minds, either to ab­solve or to condemn as the Case requireth. The Difficult is, to know when and where it is fit to proclaim the Sen­tence. An Aversion to what is Criminal, a Contempt of what is ridiculous, are the inseparable Companions of Understand­ing and Vertue; but the let­ting them go farther than our own Thoughts, hath so much danger in it, that though it is neither possible nor fit to sup­press them intirely, yet it is necessary they should be kept under very great Restraints. An unlimited Liberty of this kind is little less than sending [Page 127] a Herald and proclaiming War to the World, which is an angry Beast when so provoked. The Contest will be unequal, though you are never so much in the right; and if you be­gin against such an Adversa­ry, it will tear you in pieces, with this Justification, That it is done in its own defence. You must therefore take heed of Laughing, except in Com­pany that is very sure. It is throwing Snow-balls against Bullets; and it is the disad­vantage of a Woman, that the Malice of the World will help the Brutality of those who will throw a slovenly Ʋn­truth upon her. You are for this Reason to suppress your Impatience for Fools; who be­sides [Page 128] that they are too strong a Party to be unnecessarily provoked, are of all others, the most dangerous in this Case. A Blockhead in his Rage will return a dull Jest that will lie heavy, though there is not a Grain of Wit in it. Others will do it with more Art, and you must not think your self secure because your Reputation may perhaps be out of the reach of Ill will; for if it findeth that part guarded, it will seek one which is more exposed. It flieth, like a corrupt Humour in the Body, to the weakest Part. If you have a tender Side, the World will be sure to find it, and to put the worst Colour upon all you say or [Page 129] do, give an Aggravation to e­very thing that may lessen you, and a spiteful turn to every thing that might re­commend you. Anger laieth open those Defects which Friendship would not see, and Civility might be willing to forget. Malice needeth no such Invitation to encourage it, neither are any Pains more superfluous than those we take to be ill spoken of. If Envy, which never dyeth, and seldom sleepeth, is content sometimes to be in a Slumber, it is very unskilful to make a noise to awake it.

Besides, your Wit will be misapplied if it is wholly di­rected to discern the Faults of others, when it is so necessary [Page 130] to be often used to mend and prevent your own. The send­ing our Thoughts too much abroad, hath the same Effect, as when a Family never stay­eth at home; Neglect and Dis­order naturally followeth; as it must do within our selves, if we do not frequently turn our Eyes inwards, to see what is amiss with us, where it is a, sign we have an unwelcome Prospect, when we do not care to look upon it, but ra­ther seek our Consolations in the Faults of those we converse with.

Avoid being the first in fix­ing a hard Censure, let it be con­firmed by the general Voice, be­fore you give into it; Neither are you then to give Sentence [Page 131] like a Magistrate, or as if you had a special Authority to be­stow a good or ill Name at your discretion. Do not dwell too long upon a weak Side, touch and go away; take pleasure to stay longer where you can commend, like Bees that fix only upon those Herbs out of which they may extract the Juice of which their Honey is compo­sed. A Vertue stuck with Bristles is too rough for this Age; it must be adorned with some Flowers, or else it will be unwillingly enter­tained; so that even where it may be fit to strike, do it like a Lady, gently; and as­sure your self, that where you care to do it, you will [Page 132] wound others more, and hurt your self less, by soft Strokes, than by being harsh or vio­lent.

The Triumph of Wit is to make your good Nature sub­due your Censure; to be quick in seeing Faults, and slow in exposing them. You are to consider, that the invisible thing called a Good Name, is made up of the Breath of Numbers that speak well of you; so that if by a disobli­ing Word you silence the meanest, the Gale will be less strong which is to bear up your Esteem. And though no­thing is so vain as the eager pursuit of empty Applause, yet to be well thought of, and to be kindly used by the World, [Page 133] is like a Glory about a Wo­mans Head; 'tis a Perfume she carrieth about with her, and leaveth where-ever she goeth; 'tis a Charm against Ill-will. Malice may empty her Quiver, but cannot wound; the Dirt will not stick, the Jests will not take; Without the consent of the World a Scandal doth not go deep; it is only a slight stroak upon the injured Party and returneth with the greater force upon those that gave it.

VANITY and AFFEC­TATION.

I Must with more than ordi­nary earnestness give you Caution against Vanity, it be­ing the Fault to which your Sex seemeth to be the most inclined; and since Affectation for the most part attendeth it, I do not know how to divide them. I will not call them Twins, because more properly Vanity is the Mother, and Affectation is the Darling Daughter; Vanity is the Sin, and Affectation is the Punish­ment; the first may be called the Root of Self-Love, the o­ther the Fruit. Vanity is ne­ver at its full growth till it [Page 135] spreadeth into Affectation, and then it is compleat.

Not to dwell any longer upon the definition of them, I will pass to the means and motives to avoid them. In order to it, you are to con­sider, that the World chal­lengeth the right of distribu­ting Esteem and Applause; so that where any assume by their single Authority to be their own Carvers, it grow­eth angry, and never faileth to seek Revenge. And if we may measure a Fault by the greatness of the Penalty, there are few of a higher size than Vanity, as there is scarce a Punishment which can be heavier than that of being laughed at.

[Page 136] Vanity maketh a Woman tainted with it, so top full of her self, that she spilleth it upon the Company. And be­cause her own thoughts are intirely imployed in Self-Contemplation; she endea­voureth, by a cruel Mistake, to confine her Acquaintance to the same narrow Cir­cle of that which only con­cerneth her Ladiship, for­getting that she is not of half that Importance to the World, that she is to her self, so mistaken she is in her Va­lue, by being her own Ap­praiser. She will fetch such a Compass in Discourse to bring in her beloved Self, and rather than fail, her fine Petty-Coat, that there can [Page 137] hardly be a better Scene than such a Tryal of ridiculous Ingenuity. It is a Pleasure to see her Angle for Commenda­tions, and rise so dissatisfied with the Ill-bread Company, if they will not bite. To ob­serve her throwing her Eyes about to fetch in Prisoners, and go about Cruizing like a Privateer, and so out of Countenance, if she return without Booty, is no ill piece of Comedy. She is so eager to draw respect, that she al­ways misseth it, yet thinketh it so much her due, that when she faileth she groweth was­pish, not considering, that it is impossible to commit a Rape upon the will; that it must be fairly gained, and [Page 138] will not be taken by Storm; and that in this Case, the Tax ever riseth highest by a Benevolence. If the World instead of admiring her Ima­ginary Excellencies, taketh the Liberty to laugh at them, she appealeth from it to her self, for whom she giveth Sentence, and proclaimeth it in all Com­panies. On the other side, if incouraged by a Civil Word, she is so obliging, that she will give thanks for being laughed at in good Language. She taketh a Compliment for a Demonstration, and setteth it up as an Evidence, even against her Looking-Glass. But the good Lady being all this while in a most profound Ig­norance of her self, forgetteth [Page 139] that Men would not let her talk upon them, and throw so many senseless words at their head, if they did not in­tend to put her Person to Fine and Ransom, for her Im­pertinence. Good words of any other Lady, are so ma­ny Stones thrown at her, she can by no means bear them, they make her so uneasie, that she cannot keep her Seat, but up she riseth and goeth home half burst with Anger and Strait-Lacing. If by great chance she saith any thing that hath sence in it, she ex­pecteth such an Excessive rate of Commendations, that to her thinking the Company ever riseth in her Debt. She look­eth upon Rules as things [Page 140] made for the common People, and not for Persons of her Rank; and this Opinion some­times tempteth her to Extend her Prerogative to the dis­pencing with the command­ments. If by great Fortune she happeneth, in spite of her Vanity, to be honest, she is so troublesome with it, that as far as in her lieth, she ma­keth a scurvy thing of it. Her bragging of her Vertue, look­eth as if it cost her so much pains to get the better of her Self, that the Inferences are very ridiculous. Her good Hu­mour is generally applied to the laughing at good Sense. It would do one good to see how heartily she despiseth any thing that is fit for her to do. [Page 141] The greatest part of her Fan­cy is laid out in chusing her Gown, as her Discretion is chiefly imploy'd in not paying for it. She is faithful to the Fashion, to which not only her Opinion, but her Senses are wholly resigned: so obse­quious she is to it, that she would be ready to be reconci­led even to Vertue with all its Faults; if she had her Dancing Master's Word that it was practsi'd at Court.

To a Woman so compos'd, when Affectation cometh in to improve her Character, it is then raised to the highest Perfection. She first setteth up for a Fine thing, and for that Reason will distinguish her self, right or wrong, in every [Page 142] thing she doth. She would have it thought that she is made of so much the finer Clay, and so much more sifted than ordinary, that she hath no common Earth about her. To this end she must neither move nor speak like other Women, because it would be vulgar; and therefore must have a Language of her own, since ordinary English is too course for her. The Looking-glass in the Morning dicta­teth to her all the Motions of the Day, which by how much the more studied, are so much the more mistaken. She com­eth into a Room as if her Limbs were set on with ill made Screws, which maketh the Company fear the pretty [Page 143] thing should leave some of its artificial Person upon the Floor. She doth not like her self as God Almighty made her, but will have some of her own Workmanship; which is so far from making her a better thing than a Woman, that it turneth her into a worse Creature than a Mon­key. She falleth out with Nature, against which she ma­keth War without admitting a Truce, those Moments ex­cepted in which her Gallant may reconcile her to it. When she hath a mind to be soft and languishing, there is som­thing so unnatural in that affected Easiness, that her Frowns could not be by ma­ny degrees so forbidden. [Page 144] When she would appear un­reasonably humble, one may see she is so excessively proud, that there is no enduring it. There is such an impertinent Smile, such a satisfied Simper, when she faintly disowneth some fulsom Commendation a Man hapneth to bestow upon her against his Conscience, that her Thanks for it are more visible under such a thin Disguise, than they could be if she should print them. If a handsomer Woman taketh any liberty of Dressing out of the ordinary Rules the mi­staken Lady followeth, with­out distinguishing the unequal Pattern, and maketh her self uglier by an example mis­placed; either forgetting the [Page 145] Privilege of good Looks in another, or presuming, with­out sufficient reason upon her own. Her Discourse is a sense­less Chime of empty Words, a heap of Compliments so equal­ly applied to differing Per­sons, that they are neither va­lu'd nor believ'd. Her Eyes keep pace with her Tongue, and are therefore always in motion. One may discern that they generally incline to the compassionate side, and that, notwithstanding her pretence to Vertue, she is gentle to di­stressed Lovers, and Ladies that are merciful. She will repeat the tender part of a Play so feelingly, that the Company may guess, without Injustice, she was not altoge­ther [Page 146] a disinteressed Spectator. She thinketh that Paint and Sin are concealed by railing at them. Upon the latter she is less hard. and being divided between the two opposite Prides of her Beauty and her Vertue, she is often tempted to give broad Hints that some body is dying for her; and of the two she is less unwil­ling to let the World think she may be sometimes profan'd, than that she is never worship­ped.

Very great Beauty may per­haps so dazle for a time, that Men may not so clearly see the Deformity of these Affecta­tions; But when the Bright­ness goeth off, and that the Lover's Eyes are by that means [Page 147] set at liberty, to see things as they are, he will naturally re­turn to his Senses and recover the Mistake into which the La­dy's good Looks had at first en­gaged him. And being once undeceived, ceaseth to worship that as a Goddess, which he seeth it only an artificial Shrine moved by Wheels and Springs, to delude him. Such Women please only like the first O­pening of a Scene, that hath nothing to recommend it but the being new. They may be compared to Flies, that have pretty shining Wings for two or three hot Months, but the first cold Weather maketh an end of them; so the latter Season of these fluttering Crea­tures is dismal: From their [Page 148] nearest Friends they receive a very faint Respect; from the rest of the World, the ut­most degree of contempt.

Let this Picture supply the place of any other Rules which might be given to prevent your resemblance to it, The Deformity of it, well conside­red, is Instruction enough; from the same reason, that the sight of a Drunkard is a better Ser­mon against that Vice, than the best that wasever preach'd upon that Subject.

PRIDE.

AFter having said this a­gainst Vanity, I do not intend to apply the same Cen­sure to Pride, well placed, and rightly defined. It is an ambiguous Word; one kind of it is as much a Vertue, as the other is a Vice: But we are naturally so apt to chuse the worst, that it is become dangerous to commend the best side of it.

A Woman is not to be proud of her fine Gown; nor when she hath less Wit than her Neighbours, to com­fort her self that she hath more Lace. Some Ladies put [Page 150] so much weight upon Orna­ments, that if one could see into their Hearts, it would be found, that even the Thought of Death is made less heavy to them by the con­templation of their being laid out in State, and honour­ably attended to the Grave. One may come a good deal short of such an Extream, and yet still be sufficiently Im­pertinent, by setting a wrong Value upon things, which ought to be used with more indifference. A Lady must not appear sollicitous to ingross Respect to her self, but be content with a rea­sonable Distribution, and al­low it to others, that she may have it returned to her. [Page 151] She is not to be troublesomly nice, nor distinguish her self by being too delicate, as if or­dinary things were too course for her; this is an unmanner­ly and an offensive Pride, and where it is practised, deser­veth to be mortified, of which it seldom faileth. She is not to lean too much upon her Quality, much less to de­spise those who are below it. Some make Quality and Idol, and then their Reason must fall down and Worship it. They would have the World think, that no amends can ever be made for the want of a great Title, or an ancient Coat of Arms: They imagine, that with these advantages they stand upon the higher Ground, [Page 152] which maketh them look down upon Merit and Vertue, as things inferiour to them. This mistake is not only senseless, but criminal too, in putting a greater Price upon that which is a piece of good luck, than upon things which are valuable in themselves. Laughing is not enough for such a Folly; it must be se­verely whipped, as it justly de­serves. It will be confessed, there are frequent Temptations given by pert Ʋpstarts to be angry, and by that to have our Judgments corrupted in these Cases: But they are to be resisted; and the utmost that is to be allowed, is, when those of a new Edition will forget themselves, so as either [Page 153] to brag of their weak side, or to endeavour to hide their Meanness by their Insolence, to cure them by a little sea­sonable Raillery, a little Sharp­ness well placed, without dwelling too long upon it.

These and many other kinds of Pride are to be avoided.

That which is to be recom­mended to you, is an Emula­tion to raise your self to a Character, by which you may be distinguished; an Eagerness for precedence in Vertue, and all such other things as may gain you a greater share of the good opinion of the World. Esteem to Vertue is like a che­rishing Air to Plants and Flow­ers, which maketh them blow and prosper; and for that [Page 154] reason it may be allowed to be in some degree the Cause as well as the Reward of it. That Pride which leadeth to a good End, cannot be a Vice, since it is the beginning of a Vertue; and to be pleased with just Applause, is so far from a Fault, that it would be an ill Symptom in a Woman, who should not place the greatest part of her Satisfaction in it. Humility is no doubt a great Vertue; but it ceaseth to be so, when it is afraid to scorn an ill thing. Against Vice and Folly it is becoming your Sex to be haughty; but you must not carry the Contempt of things to Arrogance towards Persons, and it must be done with fitting Distinctions, else [Page 155] it may be Inconvenient by be­ing unseasonable. A Pride that raiseth a little Anger to be out-done in any thing that is good, will have so good an Effect, that it is very hard to allow it to be a Fault.

It is no easie matte to car­ry even between these differ­ing kinds so described; but remember that it is safer for a Woman to be thought too proud, than too familiar.

DIVERSIONS.

THE last thing I shall re­commend to you, is a wise and a safe method of u­sing Diversions. To be too eager in the pursuit of Plea­sure [Page 156] whilst you are Young, is dangerous; to catch at it in riper Years, is grasping a sha­dow; it will not be held. Besides that by being less na­tural it groweth to be inde­cent. Diversions are the most properly applied, to ease and relieve those who are Oppres­sed, by being too much im­ployed. Those that are Idle have no need of them, and yet they, above all others, give themselves up to them. To unbend our Thoughts, when they are too much stretched by our Cares, is not more na­tural than it is necessary, but to turn our whole Life into a Holy day, is not only ridicu­lous, but destroyeth Pleasure instead of promoting it. The [Page 157] Mind like the Body is tired by being always in one Posture, too serious breaketh, and too diverting looseneth it: It is Variety that giveth the Relish; so that Diversions too fre­quently repeated, grow first to be indifferent, and at last tedious. Whilst they are well chosen and well timed, they are never to be blamed; but when they are used to an Ex­cess, though very Innocent at first, they often grow to be Criminal, and never fail to be Impertinent.

Some Ladies are bespoken for Merry Meetings, as Bessus was for Duels. They are in­gaged in a Circle of Idleness, where they turn round for the whole Year, without the Inter­ruption [Page 158] of a serious Hour, They know all the Players Names, and are Intimately ac­quainted with all the Booths in Bartholomew-Fair. No Sol­dier is more Obedient to the sound of his Captain's Trum­pet, than they are to that which summoneth them to a Puppet-Play or a Monster. The Spring that bringeth out Flies, and Fools, maketh them Inhabitants in Hide-Park; in the Winter they are an Incumbrance to the Play House, and the Ba­last of the Drawing Room. The Streets all this while are so weary of these daily Faces, that Men's Eyes are over laid with them. The Sight is glut­ted with fine things, as the Stomach with sweet ones; and [Page 159] when a fair Lady will give too much of her self to the World, she groweth luscious, and oppresseth instead of pleasing. These Jolly Ladies do so continually seek Diver­sion, that in a little time they grow into a Jest, yet are un­willing to remember, that if they were seldomer seen they would not be so often laughed at. Besides they make them­selves Cheap, than which there cannot be an unkinder word bestowed upon your Sex.

To play sometimes, to en­tertain Company, or to divert your self, is not to be disal­lowed, but to do it so often as to be called a Gamester, is to be avoided, next to the things that are most Criminal. [Page 160] It hath Consequences of seve­ral kinds not to be endured; it will ingage you into a ha­bit of Idleness and ill hours, draw you into ill mixed Com­pany, make you neglect your Civilities abroad, and your Business at home, and impose into your Acquaintance such as will do you no Credit.

To deep Play there will be yet greater Objections. It will give Occasion to the World to ask spiteful Questions. How you dare venture to lose, and what means you have to pay such great summs? If you pay exactly, it will be en­quired from whence the Mo­ney cometh? If you owe, and especially to a Man, you must be so very Civil to him for [Page 161] his forbearance, that it layeth a ground of having it farther improved, if the Gentleman is so disposed; who will be thought no unfair Creditor, if where the Estate faileth he seizeth upon the Person. Be­sides if a Lady could see her own Face upon an ill Game, at a deep Stake, she would certainly forswear any thing that could put her looks un­der such a Disadvantage.

To Dance sometimes will not be imputed to you as a fault; but remember that the end of your Learning it, was, that you might the better know how to move gracefully. It is only an advantage so far. When it goeth beyond it, one may call it excelling in a Mi­stake, [Page 162] which is no very great Commendation. It is better for a Woman never to Dance, because she hath no skill in it, than to do it too often, because she doth it well. The easiest as well as the safest Method of doing it, is in pri­vate Companies, amongst par­ticular Friends, and then care­lesly, like a Diversion, rather than with Solemnity, as if it was a business, or had any thing in it to deserve a Month's preparation by serious Confe­rence with a Dancing-Master.

Much more might be said to all these Heads, and ma­ny more might be added to them. But I must restrain my Thoughts, which are full of my Dear Child, and would [Page 163] overflow into a Volume, which would not be fit for a New Years-Gift. I will con­clude with my warmest Wishes for all that is good to you. That you may live so as to be an Ornament to your Family, and a Pattern to your Sex. That you may be blessed with a Husband that may value, and with Children that may inherit your Vertue; That you may shine in the World by a true Light, and silence Envy by deserving to be e­steemed; That Wit and Ver­tue may both conspire to make you a great Figure. When they are separated, the first is so empty, and the o­ther so faint, that they scarce have right to be commended. [Page 164] May they therefore meet and never part; let them be your Guardian Angels, and be sure never to stray out of the di­stance of their joint protecti­on. May you so raise your Character, that you may help to make the next Age a bet­ter thing, and leave Posterity in your Debt for the advan­tage it shall receive by your Example.

Let me conjure you, My Dearest, to comply with this kind Ambition of a Father, whose Thoughts are so in­gaged in your behalf, that he reckoneth your Happiness to be the greatest part of his own.