CHAP. I.

YOUTH is the Strength and Ornament of the Nation, and therefore great regard ought to be had to it, especially in Culti­vating and seasoning it with those pro­per Advantages and Qualifications that may render it comfortable in it self, and conformable to the Publick Good. It is aptly Emblem'd by many things, as pliant Reeds, bending to the blasts of eve­ry flattering Wind; by young Cupids, blowing Bubbles in the Air, and eagerly pursuing them, with a fondness of their Gaiety and various colours, till they break and vanish; by expanded Wax, whose softness makes it liable to take any Impression: And indeed, those that come unfledged abroad, or too early into the World, have great need of sober and [Page 2]sound Advice, and to arm themselves with precau­tion for their safety, to preserve their Reputation, Health and Fortunes: For let me plainly tell them, the World is treacherous and deceitful, and they almost every where are apt to tread on Suares, if they go on heedless, and without a diligent Circum­spection. There are Thousands that lye in wait to prey upon the imbicillity of Young Men and Wo­men; who like Syrens, labour to Charm them with sweet flattering Notes, on Ruinous Coasts, that they may gain by the Shipwreck of their Good Names; and what the industry of Indulgent Parents has laid up for them in reserve, or already bestowed on them; nay even what has been acquired by their own industry, e'er the Seducers of their Tranquility, found in an unluckey Moment, insinuating ways to work upon good nature; and this is done by such studied Tricks, Arts and Devices, to winde themselves into the good liking, confidence and trust of the Young­ger Sort; that Learning, Parts, and an indifferent Stock of Prudence are not very often a sufficient Defence, against the invading Mischief, that has of late spread like a Gangren; not to the undoing of a particular Person, but to the invitable Overthrow of many Fa­milies, which (had this dangerous Rock been avoid­ed, whereon their Fame and Fortunes are broken) might have been at this day prosperous and flourish­ing. But since past things cannot be recalled, let those that lie open and lyable to the like danger and miscarriages, take timely Warning and Advice, as a Sovereign Remedy against such a sweeping Contagi­on, which labours to become in a great measure E­pidemical, to the Juvenile Portion of Mankind; for let me tell you, when the scurvy Hour of so great a Misfortune has overtaken any of us, we may then grow angry with our selves, and would perhaps grow [Page 3]Wiser, see our Folly, and in what we have been before short-sighted, and over-reached. Allowing then we could hinder or prevent it, if it were to be done a­gain, though some indeed, too much relying on their own strength, for want of sound Advice, and a true Insight of the matter, after such Resolves of taking good Heed to their Ways; have stumbled in­to a deeper Pit than before, as not Remembering, that we can no more have Wisdom than Grace, when ever we think fit to call for it; there are Times and Periods fixed for both, and when they are too long neglected, the Punishment is, they are irrevocable, and nothing remains, but a useless Grief for the Fol­ly of having thrown them out of our power.

It's a dangerous Step Youth make into the World, when they think they are capable of deal­ing with it; for such is the depravity of the Times, that even Virtue alone will not secure one, except it is attended with a great deal of Prudence, and both are but necessary for their Guard: Nor ought they to stir without them; for the Enemy is abroad, and they are sure to be taken, if they are found stragling.

Thus much by way of Introduction, and Precau­tion; my next Business is, to come closer or more Home to such things as will be immediately necessary to be known by all, that would avoid being Imposed on or slyly cheated of their Senses, in too fondly be­lieving the Insinuating Flateries of such as labour with both hands to pull down a speedy Ruin on them.

CHAP II.

THE Task I have undertaken is so difficult, and the Persons I am about to describe so many, their Ways, Practices and Vices so various, though they all concenter in one main Design to ruin Youth, that I cannot but fancy, my Young Reader upon first fight will conclude I have enterprized an Impossibi­lity; or, that to be performed effectually by any single Person, it may appear a Herculean. Labour; how­ever, let none be so incredulous as to doubt, but when it is read over, it will answer, if seriously weighted and revolved in the Mind, the nicest Expectation.

In the first place then, it is the Care and Industry of such as design to deceive and betray Youth, to find a way to slide unto their Acquaintance, and when that is a little setled, to insinuate themselves into their Affections, studying the Bent and Passions of their Inclinations, which those that are well ver­sed in the Art of deceiving, will shrewdly guess at, by the Complexion of Party: then they flatter them with all the Endearments of respect and cor­dial Kindness, seeming afflicted when they are af­flicted, and to rejoyce when they have any trans­ports of that Pleasing Passion; setting a Gloss even upon their Faults and Failings, wrong naming their [Page 5]Vices, and clouding them under the appearances of Virtue; calling Pride a Genteel Mien and gallantry of an Exalted Spirit; Prodigality the effect of a Generous Mind; desires of Revenge, Courage and an uncontroulable Magnanimity; Drunnkenness Compla­cency, and an agreeable Companion; and for ma­ny others, they want not flattery to gild them o­ver, and make them look lovely in the conceit of Unthinking Youth who for the most part has an in­bred Enemy to aid these Sycophants, viz. Self-flat­tery, a Thirst of Praise, and desire to be Esteemed: and by these, and the like means, like subtil Ser­pents they wind themselves into the Bosom, and af­fections of those they intend to prey upon; and get such Credit with the parties, that the good advice of real Friends is mostly abortive, in labouring to open the Eyes of the Infatuated, that they may see, and purge out the spreading Bane, by timely Remi­dies e'er it grows mortal. Flattery, as I said, is their main Engin to make the first Breach, and make a way for them to enter. If these deceivers perceive a Person Cholerick, subject to Quarrel and Revenge, as naturally prompted to it by that fiery Humour pre­dominating in the Constitution, when they hear him complain of wrongs or Injuries, though perhaps himself has been the Aggressor, they presently strike in to swell his Wrath, and cause the fluctuating Ocean of his Indignation to rise, tossing him with a Tempest of bitter Inuectives against those that have put him out of Humour, magnifying the Trust he has in them, to let them know his grievance; vowing with horrid imprecations to assist him at the hazard of their Lives in his just Revenge; but when they have born up his Courage, or rather Rage to a pitch, it there be any evident Danger in [Page 6]the Enterprize, then they shrink from him, leaving him in the Broil; which sometimes costs him his Life, or at least much Trouble. Yet for this coward­ly forsaking, they have so many plausible Excuses, as Indisposition, sudden Lameness, seeing Bailiffs waiting to arrest them, whose troublesom presence they were constrained to avoid; vowing not the fear of Sacrificing Life, should other ways have hindred them in the Enterprize; and Expressing such a world of Sorrow for their remissness to so dear a Friend; that after some Words passing, the Hal­cyon Sea appears again, and they sail off smoothly on his Affections, as before: For these indeed are a Cowardly Generation, more for Blustring, Noise and Talk than Blows; and many a one, for relying on them to back him, has fallen into strange and dangerous Misfortunes; for they are but Reeds, and whoever leans on them for Support, they break, and pierce his hand.

If they croud by Insinuation unto the good like­ing of a Person more moderate, and find him of a Sanguin Constitution, then their Proem is tuned to another strain, they applaud his Temperateness, and flowness to Anger, as a premeditated and innate Prudence, flatter him with a Mitigation of the Of­fence, or at least to take but a moderate Satisfaction; not to vex nor disquiet his Spirits, but rather let the Injury dye in oblivion, than wreck it self but in thoughts, to the hindrance of his Repose; or leave it to Heaven, which will not in due time fail to pu­nish the Injury so unjustly done him, without any colourable Cause; and this kind of Flattery, bear­ing much upon his Inclination, makes him who is promptly good-natur'd, and inclinable to forgive, take all for Cordial Advice, and his well-timing Flatterers, for the dearest of his Friends; so that af­ter [Page 7]this, and little more tryal, he thinks himself blessed, that as he foundly thinks them his Good An­gels have luckily stumbled on him; so that from that time they Date their Advantage over him. The Phlegmatick Person these Tempters know to be fearful, and inclinable to avoid Danger, or under-take any Weighty Matters; his Fears magnifying every thing to him, and even at a distance shew them much frightfuller than they are; and with such they ingratiate themselves in another manner; labour to oblige him, and ingratiate themselves, by stiling his Fear or Cowardise an aversion to Quar­rels, that proceed, from Prudence and Caution; that nothing but rash unadvised Folly rushes Men upon Dangers that may be avoided; and that seldom ever hinders her Children from contending for Trifles; and well knowing no Man is pleased to be accounted a Coward, though he is so, they vindicate him in all Company where any Dispute arises, though they Laugh in their Seeves at the same time: Instancing witty Horace, who once being in a Battel, and run­ning away when he saw the dreadful clashing of Swords, and the mighty slaughter the wastful Hand of War had made, being upbraided of Cowardize, his Answer was, that he thought it not fit that a Man of Sence should stay to have his Brains beat out by illiterate Blockheads, that had none.

By these and such like Wiles, they work up and insinuate themselves into this Person; bind him to them by insensible Chains of Flattery, to live on his Fortunes, and make him ouly a return of Pestiferous Air for Substantial Things; and like Horse-leeches, drain even his vital Blood in the consuming his Sub­stance.

Where they find Melancholy makes it's dull and lumpish abode, it for the most part excludes Joy [Page 8]and a livelyness of the Spirit; the Countenance shews this, and they soon take the hint to wind themselves in the good Opinion of the Person; by insinuating a deep Sorrow and much Reservedness, when they see it seasonable; here like the Devil trans­formed into an Angel of Light, they cover themselves with a Veil of Hypecrisy, applying comfortable Ex­pressions from Scripture; that he should not afflict, or give himself up to Sorrow and Heaviness, which border on the Land of Dispair, and may in the end pluage him into that woful Gulf where so many have been lost: Yet at the same time, to please him, stile his deiectedness a reserved temper, and a se­questering himself from the Vanities of the World: Instancing to him the Lives of the Philosophers and others, whose Gravity gained them lasting Monu­ments of Renown. Sometimes when they perceive it may be more taking, they stile it a Contemplative Life, a Conversation with thoughts of the other world; and seem highly to approve it as the best and most agreeable with the Temper of the wisest in all Ages, the very Pathway to the Stars, and conducing to a Virtuous State.

These are not the only Ways by which they, as it were wind themselves insensibly into the Affections of Youth, when once they have found an opportuni­ty of getting into their company, by pretending a Knowledge of their Relations, Admiring their Dis­course, Ingenuity, Provident Management of Affairs; or to do them some little Services; but they have many others, as aping all their Virtues and Vices, and shewing an agreeableness in all their Inclinati­ons, forcing a Laughter at every insipid and ridicu­lous Story they tell, commending their Wit in any Flothy Discourse; labouring by these and such like Devices, to [...]ise their Pride in conceit of themselvess [Page 9]that being swelled with it, and blinded with self­conceit, they may not discern the Snares their Flat­tery is laying to intrap them. So the Fox in the Fa­ble, perceiving the Crow on a Tree with a choice Morsel in her Beak, and being desirous to possess himself of it, perswaded her that she was the fairest of all the winged strain, that her Wings ghstred with brightness and cast a lustre from their very night; That her Voice was more harmonious than Philomel's, and ravishing than the dying Swan's; when the foolish Bird taken with his flattering Praise, thinking all true, began to flutter her Wings, and to try how well she could tune her harsh and con­stant Note, opening her Bill, let the Prey fall to the Ground, which crafty Reynard snatching up, hastily devoured, and upraided her with her Folly, and too much Credulity, whilst she vext at a loss past re­covery.

Thus the Deceivers practise on Youth, and leave them when they have got their Ends, to repent at leisure; they take up their thoughts in engaging them in so many things, if once they find they be­gin to be Musing, that they leave them past think­ing on any thing that tends to relieve them from the Misfortune he is rushing upon. The Flatterer breaks his own Rest in such a Case, to frame new Devices and Entertainments, to keep him or her he designs upon, from starting, or falling off; and appears in as many shapes as Proteus, to make his Company and Conversation desirable.

So Alcibiades acted the part of an Orator and Phi­losopher among the Athenians; he put on an Austere and Grave Countenance among the Thracians, he acted the Gallant and Caroused it strenuously; among the Ionians, he gave himself up to all the soft Plea­sures and Delights that Effeminate Country had ac­customed [Page 10]it self to; among the Persians, he imitated their Luxury, complied with their Haughtiness and Pride, in sumptuous Apparel: and by such means wound himself into their Affections, the better closely to carry on his Designs.

But why stay I so long on small things, when more profound Mysteries require to be midwifed into the World? that innumerable Mischiefs, long brooding in the Gloom, may be exposed to the Noon-day Sun. I therefore now come to break the Cockatrices Egg, and shew the ugly Serpent too many have warmed in their Bosom, and by it unthinkingly undone themselves.

CHAP. III.

THE Country-Gentleman, or one ignorant of the Ways and Tricks of the Town, is to consider, that he is to be always on his Guard; and that Mis­trust and Diffidence are the best Sinews of his Policy: for if he be over-credulous, and easy to be trained into a belief of seeming Appearances, to believe Things substantial, when they are only Shadows; he lays himself open to many Inconveniencies and Misfortunes: for on this weak side he must expect Attacks, that will carry the Fort either by Parley or Storm.

But before I come to discover how this is done, it will not be amiss to give a brief Character of the most dangerous Enemy, that under a cloaked and dissembled Friendship, will (if he meets him, or finds, for that he will certainly do, if he knows or hears of him, an opportunity to get into his com­pany, and scrape acquaintance with him) lay him on board; shewing first false Colours, to hale and allure him into his Power; and declares himself, or at least by sad Experience is found to be a Pirate, making his Fortunes by the Ruins of his Prize.

He is by some called a Town-Gallant, but more vulgarly known by the Epithet of the Gentile Town-Shift, often shifting and changing his Cloathes and Lodging; for he desires as little to be known, as inquired after. He has been well educated, having something of the Education of a Gentleman, with­out the Fortune; his Father by his riotous way of living, having left him no other Portion than the wide World to live in: and he remembring some­thing of his Gentility, cannot be forced, even by pinching Necessity, to undertake any industrious, lawful Employment; lest he should stain, as he pretends, the Reputation of his Family. He has been himself bubbled, and concludes it no Sin to set up, and practise it on others: and to perfect him so to do, and live on their Spoils, he makes it his Business to gain Experience; by Travelling abroad in the company of some young Gentlemen, who bear his Charges; that he may season himself with a smattering of Forein Languages, learn the alamode Shrug-cringe, and some other Mimick Deportments. Being so qualified, and armed with a good Stock of Confidence, his Garb being modish and gentile; for without these, he could not so con­veniently thrust himself into Company fit for his [Page 12]purpose. The next thing is to lay his Conscience asleep; and therefore among those like himself, he professeth himself in word and deed an absolute Atheist, smiles at the mention of Hell-Torments [...] and is ready to burst with Laughter, when he hears any discourse of Spirits, and their apparitions; de­nying with horrid Oaths, any other Angels than those in Peticoats, staircased with Fringe or Lace, to lead his Fancy as high by gradation as Loves pretty Dimple, or sip Ambrosial Nectar from the Ruby. Lip of the tempting Sex, and this he concludes his Paradise; supposing Hell to be no more than a Hot-house, to Flux for a Clap; denying there is an essential difference between Good and Evil: deems Conscience only a thing fit for Women and Chil­dren, stiling the Devil the Parson's Bugbear, and the civil Gentleman in black; ascribing good Morals and honest Dealing to Simplicity, and a stupid Ignorance in the Facetious Humors and Ways of the Town. Yet, as I have in the former Chapter hinted, he can act variously, to comply with the different Humors of those he designs to prey on.

And having thus briefly given you his Character, I come now to his Practice; Dissimulation, Flattery, Patience, feigned Humility, Affability, Civility, and Plausibility, are the Weapons he charges with, as he sees occasion.

He is acquainted much at Inns, and often rides some Miles out of Town, to view the Stage-Coaches as they come to London; and if he sees any young Gentleman he can put-upon, he rides near, or within sight of the Coach, 'till it comes to it, proper Stage; sets up in the same Inn, where the Chamberlain, Tapster and Hostler, and all the Dome­sticks give him great Respect, with worshipful [Page 13]Titles; because he is bountiful to them, for their particular Services, in learning of the Coach-man the Gentleman's Name, the Place from whence he came, that of his Birth, his Quality, and the Occa­sion that brought him to Town; but most of all the strength of his Purse; and what else can conve­niently be known. This done, he finds an oppor­tunity to insinuate himself into his company, by doing him some little piece of Service; upon pre­tence of being alone, and a Stranger, desirous of Company, and particularly of his; protesting, after some small introductory Discourse of Complimenting and Cringing, that his Physiognomy takes him extreamly, that he sees much Gallantry in it, manly and brave, frank and generous; protesting he is wholly engaged to serve him; then binds it with an Oath, that if he had the Honour to be known to him, he is a Man sincere, and an utter Enemy to Flattery; though at the same time all is notorious Flattery, that he may wind himself into his good Opinion, on purpose to deceive and betray him: and when he perceives he has wrought him some­thing to his purpose, the better to confirm him in his feigned Sincerity, he changes the Discourse after two or three Glasses have passed, and to wheedle an acquaintance with him, tho' he never set Eyes on him before: for fixing his Eyes upon him, and gazing stedfastly, as if some Apparition presented it self, he falls back in a start; saying, Ha! who is this I see? O that I should be thus long blinded! What my dearest Friend, and I not know him all the while? When the Gentleman pauses, and wonders at this; and can by no means call to mind he ever saw his Face before; he calls him by his Name, and tells the Place of his Birth or Abode, as he had learned it in the Inn before­hand; [Page 14]crying, I now perceive the old Proverb is true, Out of Sight, out of Mind. But is it possible, six or seven Years should blot me out of your Memory? It's strange, that in so short a time you should forget one that professes himself the greatest Friend and Servant to your Family, of any Man living. Pardon me Sir, says the Gentleman, that I cannot so readily call you to mind, for I do not at present remember I ever saw you before. That's very strange indeed, replyes he, there's scarce one of your Family that I do not know, as well as I know you: when I lived at D — there was no doing without me, I was always among them, I had the honour to see you there almost every day, Pray' how do you call the Place at D —, where they used to walk under cool refreshing Shades in the Summer-Evenings? What, replyes the Gentle. man, the Grove? The same, says he, directly; there I passed many pleasant Hours with delight, in you good company: — you don't remember this: Not I, I protest, says the Gentleman. Well, replys the Sharper, there are a hundred things a Man I see may forget, but no matter, let us em­brace, and renew our former Acquaintance. This makes the poor Gentleman wonder, and recollect himself all he can: when our Town-Shift perceiving him pausing, and at a stand, as half-wrought into a belief of what he had said, thus proceeds to give the finishing-stroak. Pary Sir, says he, tell me some News of your Family: — How does that Gentleman? — your — he that is such at honest good Man. Who mean you, says the Gen­tleman, my Brother-in-Law the Justice on the Green? — The very same, says the other, by the same Token, if it be the same I mean, he Married your Sister: he did so, replyes the Gentle­man, [Page 15]why he is very well, and keeps up his old Jovial Humour: I am glad to hear it, says the other: and pray' how does the good Gentleman your Uncle, replies the Gentleman? I have no Uncle. — Here finding himself tripping, he recollects, and in a modest Tone says, Pardon me Sir, perhaps you had when I left the Country. — No, never, replies the Gentleman, only an Aunt. Alack alack! says he, that I should so mistake, it was directly she I meant; if I mistake not, she was your Father's Sister. She was so, reply'd the Gen­tleman, and I find you have some knowledge of my Relations, tho' I cannot well at present call you to mind. Having thus tickled the Tr [...]t, and not willing to venture farther on this Subject, lest he should, stumble, and lose his hold: the next thing is to fall to Drinking, or it may be a small Collation is introduced; which our Town-Shift the better to in­gratiate himself, will impose on him; suffering him at this time to pay nothing, though he be never so desirous to do it: protesting it is the Custom of the Town, to welcom Friends at their first coming up; and that he knows better what belongs to Good Breeding, than not to observe it. So out comes a Gold-Watch, to see what Time it is; suc­ceeded by a handful of Gold or silver, according as his Stock is: these are drawn on purpose to confirm his Credit, and gain him the greater Esteem: whil'st the poor unthinking Gentleman little considers, that they are Spoils of others, and that himself e'er long must pay dear for his new Acquaintance.

The next Intrigue is, to invite him if he is un­provided, to his Lodging, 'till he can better furnish himself; crying down the incommodiousness of an Inn, occasioned by Noise, ill Scents, and we know [Page 16]not who lying in their Beds, which may bring Dis­eases on a fresh Country-Gentieman, using to lye soft and delicate, and suddenly coming out of a refined Air into a grosser: not forgetting to magnify the curious neatness of his own, where Attendance suiting his Quality shall be given, and in this matter becomes so importunate a Suitor, that no deni [...]l will serve his turn.

The Reckoning being paid, and our Country-Gentleman mellowed with Drinking, a Coach is called, and away they rattle together: so that from this time he conclude: he his trussed his Quarry. By the way he calls at a Musick-House, to diyert him with some of the fulsom Humour of the Town; and enters, from what he hath a Prospect of there, some obscene Conceits in his Head, the better to bring him to his Lure. If other Means fail, the next place is a Tavern; where out Town-Shift being well known, is received, and attended with Titles of Honour, and much seeming Respect, by the Vintner, his Wife, Daughter, and Drawers: and the rather, because at his first approaching the Bar, and demanding whether My Lord, or Sir William Such a one had been there to ask for him, he Tipt them the Wink or Sign, that he had brought a Bubble with him; which made them conclude, they were likely to reap a Share of the Profit he intended to make of him.

A Bottle or two passing, and it growing late, they, take Coach again, and to our Shift's Lodging, tho' perhaps but a few Doors distant; the Matron of the House receives him with genteel Welcoms, and a profound Civility; the Servants imitate her in every thing, as knowing they shall be no losers by it. And tho' our Shift before lay in a Garret to save Charges, now the best Chamber is made ready, and [Page 17]all things agreeable provided, and after some Dis­course, to Bed they go: but the Gentleman wrought to this pitch, tho' weary, must not sleep, 'till by cunning Fetches and Wheedling, our Shift has got an Insight into his Affairs; that not being ignorant of the depth of the Water he's Angling in, may the better know how to lay his Bait to take the more certainly, when the Gudgeon is least apprehensive of being entangled.

Next morning, to keep up the Conceit of this Fatal Friendship, a Collation is prepared, and a She pretended Cosin comes, in very gawdy Tinsil Trap­pings, Modish, and appearingly very Rich; asks for our Town-Shift, by the Title of Sir William, or Sir Thomas, desiring of the Landlady to know, if he be yet stirring; if not, that she would not disturb his Worship: for she is going to their Aunts, Madam such a one, and will call again as she returns. But being inform'd he is up, she bawls to the Coach-Man to stay, so loud, that the young Gentleman above may hear her: and this is also a Watchword to her Bully, that has him in his clutches; who knowing her Voice, and having privately sent for her to carry on the Intrigue, begins to proclaim her Quality before she enters; and how lucky he is, that now he can oblige his dearest Friend with the Cou­versation of one of the finest and most accomplished Women the Town affords.

By this time, softly tripping up Stairs, she enters, and pretends to Blush, that she has intruded a Stranger: being there, making an Excuse, with the Courtesy her French Dancing-Master taught her, and much feigned Modesty; but her pretended Cosin interrupts her, saying, Madam, stand not upon Ce­remonies, this Gentleman is my good Friend, and you may be free; pray' how does the good Lady [Page 18]your Mother: to this she returns a sutable Answer: and then the Gentleman upon a Wink, and other significant Motions of our Town-Shift, takes up the Glass, and presents his Humble Service to this Town-Jilt, who drops a Courtlsy of another fashion; re­ceiving it from him with a cold and dissembled Coyness: protesting, it is not her custom to drink Wine in a Morning; but rather than prove trouble­som, she will pledge him: then she sips, as if she were afraid to wet her Lips; and indeed she is, because they are Vermilion'd over, to give them a charming aspectithen shrugs up her Shoulders, exposes to view the Apples of her snowy Breasts, then sud­denly hides them, as if it had been done by chance, clapping her Hand before her Face, looking with half an Amorous Leer, whilst her Eyes seem lan­guishing, and by pressing hard her Cheeks, she raises a Blush on them. All this while our young Gentleman beholds with Admiration, and takes her to be the most accomplished Creature Fortune or Chance e'er cast in his way; he intreats her to sit, and participate of what the Table affords, or of any thing else that Money can command: but she mo­destly refuses it, and pretending a world of haste, withdraws after a slight Compliment or two more; whil'st he much regrets the removal of so fair an Idea from his sight. But the pretended Cosin ex­cuses it, urging he knows her Business; and that if she dispatch it not, and return in time, she will incur the displeasure of her Mother; on which, be­sides her present Fortune that none can hinder her of, depends some Thousands of Pounds, which however she will be sure of at her Death. If he be an Unmarried Man, this takes to Admiration, and he is Smitten, as we call it, at the first Touch. A Beauty and a Fortune strangely charm him, and he [Page 19]hugs himself in Raptures, to conceit he hath such a Friend to facilitate his Addresses, to open the way for his Courtship, and render it easy.

Our Shifter perceiving this Bait hath taken to his wish, soon dives into the Affairs that brought him to Town; what Estate he hath, if his Friends be dead, or what he expects, if they be living; and by a kind of an imperceptible insinuating, wheedles things out of him in ambiguous terms, 'till he understands his Humours and Affairs, as well, or better than himself.

And now is the time to start his Game, and run it down with all convenient speed, lest some unlucky Accident should make him lose it: as a Discovery, the Gentleman's being suddenly sent for Home, Sick­ness, or the like. He pretends, and desires earnestly, to assist him in his Affairs, if they urgently press it, that Morning; if not, to shew him the Curiosities of the Court or City.

But certainly he will be sure to inveigle him to Dine at an Ordinary; or such a place, where he hath, or will by that time send to some of his Accomplices to meet him; to whom he always gives Noble or Worshipful Titles, the better to carry on the Intrigue without suspicion: and they return his Civility with profound Respect, and bridle in their accustomed Oaths, that they may not be suspected to be what they are; and turn their Discourse on State-Affairs, or what Sport they had in Hawking, Hunting, and other Genteel Recreations; when they went to Visit such a Lord or Knight at his Country-Seat. Then every one Salutes the Stranger, and Welcomes him to Town.

Dinner being ended, they Drink about Justily, imposing on our Country-Gentleman so many Healths, 'till they perceive his Brains begin to crow, then to [Page 20]pass away the Tedious Time, as they term it, the Dice are called for; not by his pretended Friend, but by the other Confederates: for he seems to oppose it, that he may be thought to have no Hand in the Plot.

When the upshot comes, and so much Money is seemingly lost and won between them, at length our Town-Shift sets in, and Wins prodigiously, which encourages the Country-Gentleman to Bett, who is suffered likewise to Win; which, with some other Incitements, puts him on to Play himself; and then, as out of courtesy, his pretended Friend gives him his place, some small matter he wins; but prompted to Set high, the Dice turn upon him; for they Top and Palm, throwing Dice themselves that will run but to the desired Chances; and by the Art of H [...]cus-Pocus and a cleanly Conveyance, so neatly recover them, that a curious Eye can scarcely discern it: so that perhaps in a little time the Money he had about him fails, and is slipped out of his into their Pockets. Then his Friend Shift seems to be displeased that he brought him thither, protesting he was against Playing, and sorry for his cross luck; yet bids him not be dejected, though Fortune proves now a Jilt, another time she may favour him, to recover all with a large addition to boot. This, if he has any Bills to receive Money in Town, brings them out; and their seeming un­willingness to engage any farther, makes him more eager to go on. His Friend then Betts on his side, and he hath some little Luck again, but quickly the Tide turns; for they are for striking whil'st the Iron is hot, and all is dasht again. This vexes him so, that off comes the Diamond-Ring, and out comes the Watch; but here his Friend stops him, for he has a mind these should be bestowed elsewhere: [Page 21]and then the others knowing the meaning of it, sneak out one by one, pay at the Bar, and rub-off, leaving him and Mr. [...] together; the [...] con­doles the Misfortune of our Country-Gentleman, and as a Sugar-Plum, offer [...] Money, on his Bond, or not; to keep up his Character [...] he can be sup­plied. This, and two or three brisk Glasses, put him out of his dumps; and a Scrivener being sent for, 'tis accepted with thankfulness, on the Terms propounded: which Civility, and others formerly received, obliges him to Pay the Shot for them both, and be liberal to the Servants.

Hereupon a Coach is called, and away to Airing they go to St. James's, or Hide-Park, if seasonable; if not, to the Tennis-Court, or to take a view of the Tombs at Westminster: but where-ever it is, as the Plot was laid in the Morning, they meet the She-Cosin with her Footman at her tail; this seems to the Gentleman, as by wonderful accident; and so she protests, the better to confirm him in his Opi­nion of her little desire to go, or be seen abroad.

The renovation of this charming Sight jostles all thoughts of his Losses out of his Head, and after a turn or two, where must they go but to the Play-House. Our Town-Shift starts this, and Madamoi­selle with much seeming Modesty declines it; urging, she cannot spare Time; or that the Age is so cen­sorious and scandalous, that it is not a Place conve­nient for her to be seen in.

Her coldness maks the young Gentleman importu­nate, and our Town-Shift backs him in it, joining his Perswasion; so that at length it is agreed on, and away they are jolted together.

The Gentleman, who never saw such fine things before, is mightily taken, and vows, the Pleasures of the Town as far exceed those of the Country, [Page 22]as he fancies Mahomet's Paradise exceeds the Desarts of Arabia.

The Play ended, they are obliged to see her home to her Apartment; and then, as a lucky hit would have it, the Lady-Mother talked on before, (there being no such living Creature) is feigned to be at such a Ladies Labour, or gone to see some sick Countess.

So that here the Eatertainment interrupted, is Splendid at the Cost of our young Gentleman; who in Generosity, having at such Charge learned thus much of Town-Breeding, must Treat the Lady, in recompence of the Favour her Company hath (in complaisance to his Requests) obliged him with.

Her Acceptance emboldens him to talk Amo­rously, but she seems not to understand him, and instead of returning his Glances, fixes her Eyes on his Diamond-Ring, proceeding to praise the beauty and splendor of it; saying, she once had just such another, presented her by a Person of Honour, but hath lost it; and to this day dares not let her Mo­ther know so much. You told me Cosin, continues she, directing her Discourse to our Town-Shift, that you would speak to the Jeweller, that made it for the Lady who presented it me, for such another; as for the Price, I will not stand with him. Truly Cosin, replied he, I forgot to tell you, I was with the Man I thought had made it, but it proves a Mistake, he did not, nor can he inform me who did. I am sorry for that, says she, but I fancy this Gentleman's is extream like it; yet Modesty for­bids me to be so rude, as to desire a Stranger to trust me with such a value, for a Pattern.

Our Gentleman, who all this while hath listned to this charming Syren, like a Nightingal to a Flajolet, mightily taken with her Carriage, thinks now he [Page 23]hath an Opportunity substantially to oblige so sweet a Creature, as he supposes her; and if he be not Married, makes one great Step to gain her, and her prodigious Fortunes in the Clouds; prompted by Mr. Shift with Nods and Winks, makes no scruple, not to lend it her, but presents it as his Act and Deed; which she seems in Modesty to refuse, 'till he in a manner is compelled to force that upon her, which she so earnestly desires; and must, as our Shift whispers in his Ear, take it as a Favour that she will accept it.

This makes her look with more gracious Eyes upon him; so that having found the Fruits of the first Present, his Gold-Watch goes next; and he plyes her with many others, to speak more power­fully for him than his Rhetorick can do.

To be brief, he so prevails at last, that she con­sents he shall Steal her, but not 'till a good Settle­ment is made. The Management of the Business is left to our Town-Shift, who is gratified with Gold, fringed Gloves, and other costly things, on the Wedding-Day; the Marriage being celebrated very privately.

This done, he hath scarce time to Embrace his charming Bride, whom he finds the first Night but a crackt Bargain, if he scape a Clap; ere her Tay­lor, Tally-man, Landlady, Silk-man, Lace-man, Draper, Shooe-maker, Tire-woman, and a Shoal more surround him at his setting forth from his Chamber, with their Bills, and clamour for the Money his Bride owes them. And this he must take as a Civility; for sometimes two or three couple of Harpy-Catchpoles seize him at the bot­tom of the Stairs.

In fine, his pretended Friend Mr. Shift hath now plaid his Prank, and is withdrawn to share the Booty [Page 24]with the Gamesters. And he hears no more of him but for the Money he lent him. Upon Enquiry, hi [...] Spouse proves no better nor no worse than a Second-rate Strumpet, who like a Squirrel hath learned the Trick of covering her whole Body with her Tail; and has no more than her Brain to con­trive Cheats, and carry on Intriguing-Wickedness for her Dowry.

Her feigned Modesty now is vanished, and if he dares upbraid her with the Misfortune that hath befallen him, she twits him with his Folly and Ignorance in the Ways of the Town, roars, slings and rants like any Bedlam; and Swears now she is Wife, she will make him know his Driver; a Coach she will have, and Freedom at all times.

Cosin Shift is still her Gallant, and goes Snips with her in all she can rook her deceived Husband of; who to keep her quiet, and the Misfortune as hush as may be among his Relations in the Country; to supply her Lust, Luxury, Pride, and other Expen­sives, first Mortgages, then Sells outright, after runs in Debt; and if his Heart be so strong as not quickly to break with these Afflictions, he may linger out some Years in the Kings-Bench or Fleet, or flying a Gaol, meet with as bad Misfortunes in a Forein Land. As for his Wife, she is still in her Element, nay hath bettered his Fortunes by a Reserve; and when grown Old, she knows the worst of it; if Poverty compels her, 'tis but to turn Bawd or Procurer.

As for her Original, she was the Cub of a Bumpkin, licked into shape, sent up to London in a Green Wastcoat and Red Peticoat, to be thrown on the Care of Fortune; from a Closestoole-Emptier, she rises to be a Cook-Maid, from thence, crept up Stairs to manage the Bedding and Carpets; in which [Page 25]Station growing spruce, and Nature having endued her with a tolerable Face, and a large Stock of Confidence she was Boarded a-stern by the young 'Squire her Master's Son; when complaining to him that her Belly wambled, he put her off with a piece of Money: upon which, she took Sanctuary under the Protection of an old Bawdy Midwife, who having delivered her, and dropt the Child as a Parish-Charge, advised her to turn Town-Woman, or a Woman of the Town; and taught her how to practise, going Snips with her for Counsel. But often meeting with Affronts, to skreen her against them, she chose our Town-Shift for her Bully; who brought her Customers, and went share in the Profit.

I might enlarge much more on this, but having many things to treat of before I finish this small Book; I must intreat the Reader not to expect too large a Birth in the beginning; lest the subsequent Relations prove but Pigmeys, for want of room, to grow to their desired Stature.

I have mentioned already indeed something of Gaming, and it might reasonably have been ex­pected I should have discovered the Tricks and Cheats used in it by Shifts, Sharpers, Bulleys, Beaux, &c. But then I must be obliged to repeat them so often, that they will appear Tautology: and therefore to avoid it, and not allow for more room than I can expect; I shall briefly discover, and lay them down, for the advantage of the Reader, by themselves, when I come to a Conclusion.

CHAP. IV.

IN this Chapter, Young Men that by the help of Friends, or their own Industry, Set up, and be­gin to make a Figure in the World, my Precautions are directed to you. For besides Beaus and Fops, that will be apt to Wheedle you abroad, to make you neglect your Business, loyter away your Time, spend your Money, and endanger your Credit and Reputation.

There lurks behind the Curtain a more pestilent Enemy to your Fortunes, who makes it his whole Study and Business to nip them in their growth. Nor ought the Larks to cour, and be more afraid of the Hobby, who makes it his work to prey upon them, than Young Men adventuring on the Stage of Worldly Affairs, ought to consider how they may shun meeting with this Hyena in Human shape. And that he may be the better known, and avoided, I shall first briefly describe him, and so proceed to his Practices.

He goes under many Denominations, which I shall not trouble my self to enumerate, but trace him in the vulgarly known Epithet of a Town-Shark. He boasts himself of his Parentage, and what a great Estate they had, but were Ruined for their Loyal Adherence to the Royal Family, in the late [Page 27]Civil War: though the truth is, like a Chedder-Cheese, the whole Milk of the Parish went towards making, or rather educating him. For his tender Mother, weary of a Burden she knew not where to find a Father for, dropt, and left him as a Parish-Charge.

However, growing up, the Charity of the Church-Wardens and Overseers enabled him with a Smat­tering of Freeschool-Learning: but his early Rogueries making the Master weary of him, he is turned out before he could term himself a Proficient in it, and threatned with the dreadful Drudgery of keeping Sheep, or feeding Swine; the Laziness of his Parentage being inherent, and causing in him an aversion to any thing that look'd like Labour; he to the Satisfaction of his Benefactors, gave them the slip, and trudges on bare Ten-toes, as the old Say­ing is, to London, the common Receptacle or Ren­dezvous of Vagrants; where rambling about the other end of the Town, penniless, and almost starved; his kind Stars at length favour him so far, that he gets a Lodging in a Gentleman's Stable, and is entertained by a lazy Coachman to rub down and feed his Horses. From thence he rises, to run of Errands for the Maid-Servants; who commending him for his Industry to their Master, time offering a vacancy, he is preferred to the dignity of a Foot-Man.

And here he practiseth to set up for himself, by learning to understand a Dey well, by often Playing with his Livery-Companions, Laced-Coat-Gamesters: nay even his nightly Dreams are tending to it, viz. Come at Seven, is often heard in his Sleep; and his Morning-study is, what Chance of the Dey is soonest thrown, in topping, slurring, palming, napping, and how to fix a Dey for any purpose.

The next advance he makes, is to play on the Flajolet, Flute, Hautboy, or Violin; and for his Teaching, his Master's Bottles of Wine, Ale, Cyder, or Legs of Capons, mostly pay, as he can filch them. And if he has any tolerable Voice, he learns to Sing something tuneable, by imitating in the Upper Gallery at the Play-House.

These Accomplishments make the Cook-Maid fall in Love with him, and over-enamoured with his queint Discourse, Shape and Features, trusts him before-hand with her Secrets, communicating so long, 'till her Belly begins to wamble; he all this while promising her Marriage, not scrupling to bind it with Oaths and Imprecations: so that the silly good-natured Wench believing all he says to be Gospel, crams into his Hand the Money she hath laid up, saved out of her Wages and Veils, to buy him a new Suit of Cloaths, a Wedding-Ring, and other Furniture; for the Day is appointed: with this making up his Pack, he rubs off, leaving her in Cares and Tears, to bewail her fond Easiness and Credulity.

The first thing after this is, like a Snake, to cast his Skin of a Livery, and to put himself with his own, and poor Greasy-buttocks Money, into a Gentile Sute; disguising himself with a long Wig, and clapping on a fashionable Sword. And so being a little tutored, and better grounded by some sea­soned Sticks, into whose company he thrusts him­self, or is introduced, he sets up for a Proficient in this Destructive Calling. And now as to his Practice.

O' Nights he is mostly waking, to study Devices, that he may put them in practice in the Day; and get­ting up in the Morning, traces the Streets more than a Penny-Post-Letter-Carrier, casting his Eyes on [Page 29]Both sides the way, to spy and mark out his Game. Beside, he hath intelligencers abroad, who give him notice what Young Men are newly Set up, and what they suppose their Stocks and other Fortunes to be: and when he hath pitched upon any one that he may gather from his Diseourse, what Temper he is of, seeing him alone, he steps in, and with a com­plaisant Demeanour, intreats to borrow a Pen and Ink to write a few words; and then generously he draws a Bill for a good Summ, on some unknown Person: then leaving it carelesly, that the young Man may cast his Eye on it, desires his Sand-Box, which whil'st he is reaching, he begins to him a Line or two of some Play-Song: then presently leaving off, as if he had done amiss, in forgetting the place where he was; I beg your Pardon, Sir, say [...] he, for my rudeness, Pray' how goes Trade with you in the City? And when Answer is made, But so so, or, Indifferent; he begins to inveigh against some that he pretends are no Well-willers to the City, and Obstructers of it, hoping to see better Days.

And to prolong the Discourse, the better to feel his Pulse, if any thing of little Price be sold in the Shop, he will lay out a small trifling matter; the better to ingratiate himself, when he makes the second Attack.

And so at this time, with much Civility he takes his leave. And if he finds the Shopkeeper of an easy temper, from this Interview he Registers him in his Pocket-Book, amongst his Culleys he intends to Bite. For thought he will not be so rash the first time, as to ask him his Name, lest it may create some suspicion of his Design.

Knowing the Sign and Trade, he fails not to send another to inquire it in the Neighbourhood, that he [Page 30]may have it ready at his Tongues-end the next Attack he makes; and in the mean while, a Flute, or some such Instrument is by his order left for him, by a Boy in a Green Apron, purposely drest up and sent. And if at first the young Shopkeeper scruple to take it in, as protesting he knows no such Gentle­man by Name, and believes he is mistaken in the House; the arch Knave has it at his fingers ends, by the same Token he was there such a Day, and bought such Things: then he is remembred, and it is re­ceived. About an Hour or two after, he comes ratling in a Coach, the better to credit him. If he sees the young Man busy, or engaged in his Shop with Company, he passes by, and takes him in his return. If not, he puts out his Head and poudered Wig, bawling to the Coachman to stop: and boldly going in, and with a Modish Cringe and Air, asks if he has not been troublesom to him, in taking the boldness to order something to be left for him; which he had not attempted, had it been finished when he called at the Shop where he bought it, and this Place lying more directly in his way.

The young Man hearing him make such a Scruple for a Trifle, as he supposes, not perceiving the Snake in the Grass, tells him he is welcom now, and at any time, to send or cause to be left any thing at his Shop, and it shall be laid up safely for him.

Why, says he, living at t'other end of the Town, I may with your good leave, make bold now and then to trouble you. But pray' Sir, continues he, for this Kindness, and to confirm our better Ac­quaintance; which if it lies in my power, shall be to your Advantage; Suffer me to present you with a Glass of Wine.

The young Man perhaps at first seems coy, or pretends that he has some that he instantly expects, [Page 31]about Business. But he presses it with such a Facetious Air, Mein, and seeming Generosity, that he verily believes him to be of Quality: and that in doing it, he may both oblige a Gentleman, and such a one as he may probably expect to be a Customer to him; or at least engage others of his Acquaintance to advan­tage him that way.

Then if there be no Apprentice, or he be out of the way, the Maid, Sister, or some other is called down, to look to the Shop, 'till he steps a little way with the Gentleman. When entring the Tavern, and a Room being shewn, there is great straining in Courtesy, who shall speak for the Wine; that it may be known what sort best gratifies the Palate. And seeing our Shopkeeper, who expects to be Treated, is so mannerly that he will not look a Gift-Horse in the Mouth; his supposed Gentleman, that he may be sure to hit right, calls for one Pint of White, and another of Red, with French Rowls. and after a chirping Cup, he pulls out his Flute, as he fays, to try it; and playing a Tune or two, directly fixes his Eye on our Youngster's Face, to observe how the Passions agitate the Mind: From whence he gathers, whether he is delighted witls Harmony, or not; if he find he is, he frames a Discourse of the Rarity of Musick in other Coun­tries, where he hath travelled; and that he will, in respect to his good Company so generously af­forded him, sing him a Song he learnt of a Venetian Lady; and then confident he understands not Ita­lian, tunes his Voice to a certain Gibberish, which sounds melodious enough to an unintelligent Ear, and extorts Applause from the Auditor.

And thus in a little time, other discourse passing about, they become as intimately acquainted, as if they had Sucked one Nurse.

He stays not long at this time, but calling for the Reckoning, genteely Payes it; thought the other presses at least to be his Share, in Complaisance. This makes our Shopkeeper cudgel his Brains, in studying as he goes to see him take Coach, how he may retaliate the Kindness of so sweet a Gentleman, and can think of none, but the old way, of Sir, Will you please when you come this way, or to any place near my House, to come and Dine with me; I'll promise you shall be heartily welcom to such as you find; and if I certainly knew the time, I would pro­vide something better than ordinary.

To this he makes seemingly modest Excuses, as nnwilling to trouble him, 'till it is in his power to oblige him in something that may deserve it: which causes the other to press it the more, 'till he promise at one time or other to wait on him: but withal, charges him that he get nothing extraordinary when he comes, for he is not over-curious in his Diet: and vows, if he does, it will bar him from trespassing for the future. And thus, with some Ceremony, they part.

The Ice being now thorowly broken, he does indeed muster up some of his Raggamuffin-Acquaintance, that recommended in his Name, (for he the laft Meeting left it with him) prove now and then Retale-Customers; that gaining a good Opinion for their ready Money, by degrees they may in the close come into Credit for a full Sweep by Wholesale: But these are mostly Women, for there are many of his Intriguing-Companions he dare not trust; lest being more cunning at Intrigue, they should strike-in and wipe his Nose: some few indeed he must, to carry on the Design.

And thus having laid a Foundation of Acquain­tance on the Sand, for our young Shopkeeper; and [Page 33]on a Rock for his own Advantage; he fails not to come about Dinner-time, that being introduced as a Familiar, he may the better discover the House, see how it is furnished; and from thence take his Measures, when he comes upon the Borrowing­account. For many times asking for a Summ too high, and above the Person's ability that is required to lend it, dasher all; nay perhaps there may be a Sister or Cosin, belonging to the House, whose Portions are at their disposal: and then if he finds them any thing easy to swallow his deceitful Baits, he concludes his Advantage double. After Dinner he will send for a Bottle or two, if his Stock will bear it; and then falls to talking, what a fine Tra­gedy or Comedy is to be Acted in the Evening, what curious Scenes or Singing they afford, for the Diver­tisement of the Spectators and Auditors. By these and such-like Discourses, he finds our Young Man's Inclinations; and if he can, he will fix a Play upon him, to draw him farther from home, that he may be out of Call, and more in his power to practise on: for this is one he means to wean by degrees from his Shop, and when he is given to ramble, he is sure to have him at his Beck.

The Play ended, after long sitting with dry Lips, they must take a Glass at the Tavern, and it must be where Mr. Sherk is intimately acquainted; where the Respect given him, in Ex­pectation of Gain, far surmounts his Quality, thought it adds to the Esteem already conceived-of him by our Shopkeeper here. As by accident, he purposely stumbles on one or two of his Companions, and they must be of the Company, placed at a di­stance one from another; and a Glass for two turned off, he desires them to take farther acquain­tance with this Gentleman his Friend, who is newly [Page 34]set up of such a Trade, and if they can, assist a Young Man in his Way; he lays his Obligation on them to do it for his sake; vowing he is the most obliging, civil Gentleman he ever conversed withal; and though but of late acquaintance, he finds that which obliges him to rank him amongst the best of his Friends. And goes on farther to praise his Industry, Frugality, Good Parts, &c. 'till the Young Man, though in wardly puffed up with his own Praise, from the Mouth of a flattering Varlet, modestly before Company thinks himself obliged to desire him to desist; excusing so elaborate an Encomium, as not due to him; but more worthy to be placed somewhere else; salute him, and his Health goes about.

Thus having swelled him like a Bladder, the next work is to give him Vent; upon a Signal of so many Knocks or Rings, to call up the Drawer, a Person purposely planted below takes the Hint, and the Wine carried up, in comes he with a Cloak down to his heels, making his Obeysance to the Company, leaning one Hand at the lower end of the Table, and asks for a strange Name. In the mean while, he lets go a little Boy he brought concealed under his Cloak, trained up in the dextrous Art of Pick-pocketing from his Infancy. This young Knave crawls to our Citizen unseen, the Table sheltering him, and by a cleanly Conveyance bites him of his Watch and Money; then returns to his guardian, and is carried out undiscovered, the same way he was brought in; our Shopkeeper, who fits at a distance from any body, not dreaming of any such thing.

After they have gazed upon one another, and asked if any of them know the Man, and all of them affirming No; one whispers to the rest, so loud [Page 35]that our Shop-keeper may hear him, he believes he is a Setter to the Vintner, whose head you broke for making you pay your Reckoning twice; for I heard him swear he would trounce you for it, and has been enquiring of most of your Friends, what Ta­vern you now use. At this the huffs, and seems not to value him; however, the Work being done for this time, it gives some colour for haste to discharge the Reckoning, and one without more words, stepping down to the Bar, the Drawer comes up with Ye'r kindly welcome, Gentlemen, all's paid, and your Friend stays below, desiring you would be pleased to walk down, which they hastily do, and our Shop-keeper follows them with emptyed Pockets, admiring the Generosity of his new Acquaintance, fondly conceiting a few more of these, would make him a Made Man for ever, if they help him to Cu­stom as they promise.

He no sooner parts with them at the Tavern-door, but one altogether a Stanger to him, acts the Drun­ken Man, and jostles him so, that something of a Croud gets about them, but immediately dissipates, and away he goes home: This is to colour the mat­ter, that he should verily believe his Pocket was pick'd in the Street: For after he came out of the Play-House he knew he had his Watch and Money, and in the Tavern, if he should be so ungentile to suspect any of the Company, which sat at distance from him, to do it, as he thinks to himself, his own Reason, convinces him it could not be done; he not sitting near any one by a Yard at least; for so they placed themselves on purpose, little dreaming of jack-in-a-Box: However he is somewhat dumpish at his loss, and when his supposed Friend makes him the next Visit, he tells him of it, who seems mighti­ly concerned at such a cross Accident; and the more, [Page 36]because he occasioned his going abroad, Vowing to make him an equivalent; and soon confirms his belief of his Pocket being picked after they parted: For as for the Company you were in, I will engage my Life for their Integrity, they are Men of Estates, and great Worth; and as for the Person who came in with a frivolous pretence, the whole length of the Table was between you and him.

This Discourse palliates the Matter, and he con­cludes this loss, frequent to others, might have hap­pened if he had never gone to the Play-House; my Money was not very much, says he, and as for a Watch, I have a Watch-maker owes me Money, which I believe I shall not get, unless I hedge it in by taking a Watch for it; and so that Flaw will be Sodered again.

However; to drive the Thoughts of this loss be­yond returning again, to make him Melancholy, he begins to discourse of Poetry, and repeats some Verses, he has got by heart out of Plays, and if these affect him, out comes a Lampoon, he pretends to have made on a Court-lady, and when he has read it, and solved the AEnigmas, or what is obscure in the Hints, he desires him as a choice Friend, to take a Copy of it, which Favour he will allow to no other; And this is to try, if he be Poetically in­clined; as being assured, that Poetry behind a Counter, is a certain Mine to blow up Shoop-keep­ing: For if a Trades-man get the knack of courting the Muses, those jilting jades lead him such a Dance that he soon loses himself; for being proud of his paltry Rhymes, he will seek Company, and at any rate seek to Herd amongst a parcel of Fops and Buf­foons that call themselves Wits, and would be so sti­led by others. Therefore as a special Note by the way, let all Young-men beware of this Folly, or ra­ther [Page 37]Frenzy, that are fixed in any Trade or Calling.

But to return now, if he be a single Man, he be­gins to tickle him with a prospect, he has of a fair Fortune for him; if married, he Plows with his Hel­fer if it be possible; and it shall be hard if he winds not himself in with his Female, and by these Ways and Devices, gaining as it were an absolute power o­ver the Young-man, he pretends pulling out several Bills written by himself, though drawn upon Mer­chants or Rich Bankers, that he thinks the World declines apace, for he never met with such Disap­pointments in his Life; these Bills, says he, as you may see, are due long since, and having layed out so much money in a Purchase, not in the least doubt­ing I should receive this money, it has brought me something to a strait, that I protest I must be enfor­ced to trespass upon some Friend or other, for a little time. Thus he wheedles, to try his Pulse this way: Our young Shop-keeper, perhaps at first seems to pause on the matter, whilst Mr. Shark keeps his Eyes stedfastly fixed on him, without speaking a word; at length the Young-man calling to mind that he had (if he be unmarried) promised to help him to a considerable Fortune, faintly demands how much will supply his present Occasion; he tells him a slender sum, because this he intends to pay, that he may Wiredraw him in, for a greater: If he offers to lend it him, he seems to fly off, saying, nay Sir, I did not speak upon that account, and there­fore, if it will incommode you, say so, and put your self to no straits for me, for I can have it elsewhere. You need but tell me, if it will be any Inconveniency to you, to spare it for a few days; I know some will be glad of the occasion to serve me, but these are Favours only to be asked of special Friends. Nay Sir, says the young [Page 38]Shop-keeper, I have Money by me, which is not due to pay, till such a time, and it will be little Improvement to me to keep in my Till; therefore pray let me serve you with the Summ you desire: This is accepted, a Treat given, and punctually pay­ed at the time prefixed; but soon after, upon such a pretence, a double Sum or more is laid upon him: And if that way prevails not, then he inviting the young Shop-keeper abroad, in the midst of their jol­lity, when he has Drank him to a Pitch, the Drawer comes up, and whispers Mr. Shark, that there are three Men enquire for him, and will have no deny­al, but are coming up Stairs; at this, he by keep­ing in his Breath, and straining, forces himself to change Colour, then bites his Lip, and layes his Hand on his Sword; which suddain alteration, the young man perceiving, earnestly enquires into the Cause, when with a sigh he replyes, was ever any Gentleman so affronted? now shall I be Arrested for 500 l. and nothing so much grieves me, but it will happen in your Company; were it not for bringing you into trouble, I would scour these Rogues to the Devil and farther; theupon half drawing his Sword, in the mean while the pretended Officers and Cre­ditor enter the Room, and a Sham-scuffle begins, but Mr. Shark at length surrenders, in respect, as he says, to his dear Friend, that he may come to no harm among such Villians: Then they begin to Treat, the Creditor owns the money has been due but a little while, but his craving Necessities forced him to this Ungentile Action; he will be willing to take part, and Bond for the rest, with Security; and so hush up the Matter, that it shall not redound to his Disgrace, for he knows he is about a great Fortune. Then Mr. Shark wishfully looking on his Companion, in a piteous Tone, asks if he will be so [Page 39]kind in this Matter, protesting he has a Thousand Pound to receive in ten days, left him by an Uncle lately dead. The Young man perhaps Humms and Haws a little at first, as being surprised and stun'd with this Novel Accident: but upon fresh Intreaties and Promises, that he shall not be damaged by it, the value of a pins-point, between willing and un­willing he consents, if he has ten or twenty Guine is about him, that's layed down in part; if not, what he has suffices; and Mr. Shark adds to it what his Pockets afford, and a joint Bond is given for the rest, but made payable in a very short time, lest the Vil­lany should be discovered; for this is no other, than a Confederacy between them, and when the Money is paid, the Sham-Officer and Creditor, have a small ship out of it, for Midwising this Plot of Mr. Sharks begetting.

Our Sham-Creditor knows his day of payment, as well as a Racking Landlord, those of the four Quarters of the Year, and goes punctually to the Young-man for it; which startles him: For Mr. Shark to carry on farther his Correspondence, told him the debt was paid, Bond taken up, Cancell'd and Burnt; but seeing his Hand against him, and not having pre­pared the Money, is in a peek of troubles. Mr. Shark's Counsel is now wanting, for he absconds 'till the bluster is over. If he can borrow of Friends, or on Plate, Rings, &c. to raise the Sum, it goes no farther; if not, the threats of a Goal makes him run upon Extreams, either presently to shut up, or go down into the Country to see his Uncle or what is worse, sign a warrant of Attorney, to Enter up Judgement, without thinking of taking a Defei­zance; and all is seized, himself put to shift, if he escapes so, and his real Creditors cheated. If in this Extremity, to prop up his Credit, he flatters [Page 40]himself to lean on his Sisters Portion, by borrowing it of her, he is there likewise disappointed; for upon Enquiry, ten to one she is wheedled on't, or clandestinely Married to one of Sharks Shabby Com­panions, who decoyed her with the flattering hopes of being a Lady; for she was assured by Shark, he was a Knight, and his Estate in such a County, worth 5000 per Annum; kept his Coach, and many other fine things: and this Marriage he told her, must be celebrated without the knowledge of any of her nearest Relations, lest the Knight too long de­layed, should fly off; and indeed the poor innocent Girl, by Mr. Shark's appointment, stealing to a Spring-Garden Entertainment, eager to possess Loves delici­ous Fruits, fond, and over perswaded, the Marriage was huddled up upon little more than meer Recom­mendation, fancying a Man, her wise Brother had often prais'd in her hearing, as the best, and most cordial of his Friends, would never be so base, as to betray the Sister unto a miserable Misfortune; when ashamed of such a Visionary Love, by Advice, and her own Inclination, she concluded to keep her Marriage secret, till a more favourable Opportunity to reveal it; but this unlucky Accident, extorted more early, than else she would have disclosed it, and one happiness in the midst of Misery, our young Shop-keeper may comfort himself in, viz. That he had not a Street-trotting Crack imposed on him, instead of a huge Fortune: And this was declined not so much for his sake, as that they were resolved to share his Fortune amongst them, without taking in any more Partners, where these Devices are not practicable, and frequently they hit; but our Shark has other ways; viz. to ruin our Youngster by prompting him on to Gaming, Whoring and Expensiveness, and when he is forced to hide his Head, he pretending all the [Page 41]Sorrow in the World for his Misfortune, undertake privately to convey his Goods away in the Night-s time, to a trusty Friend of his, who has a conve­niency to stow them; which if agreed to, and cle­verly got off, they are sold out by piece-meal, and the Owner has the least Share: When all is gone, and no more can be expected, to prevent our Youngster's hanging on him, or being troublesom to him in his Necessity, Mr. Shark frights him to Sea, by laying before him the terrible Idea of a Gaol, representing it far worse than it is, though bad enough; or else, which is yet more, for a small matter betrays him, into the hands of his Creditors, who hurry him into one of the City poud'ring-Tubs, and will have no Compassion on him in his languish­ment; because in his Prosperity he would have none of himself, but give way to his Folly, that thrust him head-long on his Misfortunes. And indeed our Town-Shark, keeps up the Humour of his Folly by many Devices, lest his Understanding, which he causes to be locked up in a dark Cellar, all the time he deals with him, should get loose, and fru­strate his Design; if he understands sober People have given him Advice, tending to his Good, in reclaiming, and bringing himself within Bounds, he inveighs and exclaims against them, as too censori­ous, and Enemies to Youthful Pleasure, because grown old, or wanting the advantage, they cannot pursue them; and never leaves, till he sets him at variance with them; or if this is beyond his power, he will Pipe, Drink, Fiddle, and sing their grave Counsel out of his Thoughts, and with a Whirlwind raised, by breathing Oaths and the direst Impre­cations of his Cordial Friendship, and sincerity to do him Good, blow it to the Land of Oblivion. If the Young man at any time desires his Company to [Page 42]visit, any of his grave or sober Relations, he will de­cline it, pretending he has not time, or is indispo­sed; but his fear is, they should unmask him, and lay open to him his fallacies, by dissolving the Charm, and letting him see e're it be too late, what he has to trust to.

If our Shark has brought a young Beginner to a declining condition, but there is something remain­ing, whereby he expects some further advantage, to keep him from Starting, he gravely admonishes him, with much seeming concern for his sinking state, to enter himself a Prisoner in the Fleet, or Kings-Bench; telling him, the Marshal or Warden, or their Clarks are his intimate Friends, and for a little Money (for says he, you may very well con­ceit among Gaol-keepers, there is not much Civility to be expected without it) he will get him to be a Priso­ner at large; and then a Fig for his Creditors, & their Catch-Poles; and perhaps the Young-man grievi­ously pestered, with a parcel of Civility-Varlets, hearkens to this, and gives him his own Reckoning, which is twice as much, as he has bargained for, on his behalf. But this will not do, for the Creditors seeing themselves thus like to be cheated, if he escapes a Statute, are eager to sue him to Execu­tion; he tells Mr. Shark of this, and that the next Term he expects it, asking his Advice, who putting on a grave Countenance, and shaking his Noddle, solemnly protests he knows not what to think on it; he did not imagin they would be so hasty, but if it comes to Execution, he cannot warrant him, but that he may be sent for in, and made a close Pri­soner: And perhaps if the Wind blows so hard in that Corner, there may be Statutute of Bankrupt in it, for ought he knows: And therefore in sober-sadness, he advises him to Knock off in time, make [Page 43]the most of what he has, and away to Ireland, where he may Set-up again out of their reach, with the Money he shall raise, or fall into other Business, promising to assist; and that it must be done se­cretly. This done, Mr. Shirk divides and chooses, then they part, the Young-man with real, and Mr. Shirk with feigned Tears; the latter giving the former a Note of the chief Places, the distance of Miles, and what Inns he shall call at for the best En­tertainment on the Road. And by this knowing what Stages he will make, loth that he should carry so much Money away with him, he has not been many Hours departed, but he hastens to the Mar­shalsea or Warden, or to his Bail, if he had any, tells them their Prisoner is gone, and it may be gets a Guinea or two, to direct them how to send Hue and Cry after him; when poor Peel-garlick, by this unexpected Discovery being pursued, taken, and brought back, is close confined to hard-meat, but is ignorant who was the Informer. In his Misery he sends for Mr. Shirk, who condoles his Condition, and in a little time eases him of his Money, upon specious Promises to get his Liberty the second time, or Compound with his Creditors, but does nothing in either Case: And no more being expected from Friends or otherwise, our Shirk who had all this while, chattered to his prosperity, finding the Winter of Adversity come upon him, leaves him, and flies to a warmer Sun, whilst our deluded Young-man, having his Eyes opened by sad Experience, sees too late, by what sinister means he came into this deplorable Condition, in which without Gods great mercy, he is like to end his days.

One thing more I have to offer, and so I shall conclude this Chapter.

One Villanous Trick, both the Town-shift and [Page 44] Shirk, (for here I must join them,) put indiffe­rently on Gentlemen and Trades-men, as they find opportunity, they use perswasion to inveigle them to Ride out of Town ten or twenty Miles, to take the Air; and rather than they will want his Compa­ny they have a design upon, a Horse shall-be furnish­ed for him at their charge, with Boots, Holsters, Pi­stols, Sword, &c. so riding on very frolicsome, and sporting with Passengers they meet on the Road, at last upon some turning or elbowing way, at a distance; one of them cryes yonder is an old Cormudgeon coming, let us take a frolick to fright him. Our Gentle-man or Trades-man in company, ignorant of what is intended, says perhaps little to the matter, and so they come close up, when Shift or Shirk claps a Pistol to the Mans Breast, and with an Oath bids him Deliver; whereupon he piteously cryes out, he is utterly undone, the rest of the Com­pany (except our Gentleman or Trades-man, who knows not what to think of it) laugh and Cry, let the old Rogue go, however, the other winking, as much as to say, he designs to fright him more, fum­bles, and searches him, and in a slight struggling this supposed Country-man, (a Fellow of their Gang, sent thither in that disguise) on purpose to watch their coming tumbles from his Horse, roars out lamentably of the bruise he has received, but more piteously cryes, he's undone, he's undone; whereat whipping his Horse to drive him a distance from his, they leave him in that pickle, and ride away laughing as hard as they can drive; but this proves no laughing Matter, to our young Gentle­man or Trades-man in the end; for this Sham-Coun­try-man has notice where he lives, soon finds him out, charges him as one of the Highway-men that robbed him, threatning and Hectoring at such a rate, [Page 45]that being conscious of what they termed a Frolick, and not knowing what to think of, or where to find them, and fearful of asking Advice, his Reputation in that being at Stake, beside the known danger of the Law, he finds himself constrained to comply with the Fellow's demands, to hush up the matter. More of their Villanies I might enumerate under this Head, but these are a sufficient relish.

CHAP. V.

IT cannot be denied, but Society is coveted and desired by all; nothing in the Creation can be truly said to be averse to it. But how dangerous a thing it is to venture unadvisedly, too many know by sad Experience; particularly, the giddy Younger sort, whose green Heads are not furnished with a sound Judgment to discern what may be advanta­geous, and what destructive.

It is not the multitude of Acquaintance, but the goodness of it, that is to be chosen and coveted; and it is impossible but he must be sullied with-Vice, who crouds himself into Company at a venture.

But what cares our Sharper with whom he asso­ciates, they can scarce be worse than himself: he cares not a Pin what their Vices are, so he can [Page 46]extract his best Benefit from them; and if they are timorous, he studies to make them vicious, that they may be more at his Devotion.

His acquaintance with Youth, is the first Draught of those he intends to ruin; he lays them down before him, as the foul Copy, before he can Write true and perfect: From hence, as from a Probation, he takes his Degree in their Respects, 'till at last he wholly possesses them; and by these means, impro­priates and incloses to himself, what before lay in common.

But to keep my Method through the whole Work, I now proceed to give the Reader some Account; who and what this Rake-Hell is, before I proceed to his wicked Practices on Youth.

He is a Fellow, as the rest, pretending to Great­ness of Birth; and to back the Reputation he would force from hence, is ever babbling of his Rich Rela­tions, whom he places too remote for any one to trouble himself about an Enquiry. Though his Name agreeing with some Parish or other, makes it presumed he was dropt by some strowling Beg­gar or canting Gipsy; and drag'd up by a blear-ey'd Nurse, 'till he was able to shew her and his Bene­factors a fair pair of Heels; as being frighted away with the Bugbear of being put Apprentice to some scurvy Trade: for the thoughts of Labour turns his Stomach, makes him sicken, and is worse he fears than a Disease, or a fit of the Stone.

The first thing he pitches upon, being now desti­tute of Friends and a Habitation, is to list, and season himself among the Black-Guard; becoming very industrious at his Entrance, to learn their Rogueries, in Filching, Managing the Dey, Luck­in-a-Bag, Pricking at the Girdles, Hocus-Pocus, and the various Tricks and Stratagems of a Sweetner.

The next thing is, to learn Bawdy Songs, and by herding among the St. Giles's Scrapers; for Pots of Ale, he is taught some lamentable Tunes on the Violin; and his conversation with Foot-boys who wait for their Masters at corners of Streets, gives him an opportunity to practise on the Flute, or such-like Wind-Instrument. And to sute himself more to the Humours of the Times, if possible, he procures in some blind Alehouse or other haunted by that Nation, a little smattering of French. And now he thinks himself set up, were not a Genteel Sute of Cloaths wanting, the better to introduce him into the company of those he designs to practise on. For this Supply, he does not long cudgel his Brains, ere an Opportunity offers it self to supply that Defect. He saunters about Westminster and St. James's, 'till he sees a Nobleman's or Gentle­man's Door open, and the Passage clear as far as he has a prospect; then having a Letter superscribed to some unknown Person; he first peeps about him, [...]hen boldly enters, and softly trips up Stairs: if he be met or discovered, he enquires for such a Gentleman, holding his Letter in his Hand; and no such Man being known, he humbly begs Pardon for his boldness, and believes he is mistaken in the House, but is sure he lives somewhere thereabouts. But if the Coast be clear, and any Doors open, a Camlet-Cloak, rich Morning-Gown, Plate, or what of value he can light on, is his Prize; and he soon finds a Broker to take off his Hands at a little more than half the Value, well guessing how he came by it; and knowing now it's offered, he dares not but take what they bid him, for fear they should stop it in their Hands, and make out a Writ of Enquiry, that it may come the knowledge of the true Owner. With this Money he equips himself pretty tolera­bly; [Page 46] [...] [Page 47] [...] [Page 48]and perhaps to perfect his Accoutrements, adds some little of his own, got at In and In, or Highest Lowest, Jack and the Game, &c. Thus well rigg'd he strowls the City, and there fortune, as he terms it, throws in his way some Renegado from his Trade; one that is resolved to be wicked, mangre all the Good of his Master and Relations; he finds him a fit Instrument to join with, and so they become sworn Brethren in Iniquity. He uses this unthinking Bubble as his Decoy, to allure some Apprentices of his Acquaintance into his company; magnifying him to them, as the most accomplished Man he ever met withal, and that his Conversation is so facetious and charming, that they cannot better divert themselves than in it; especially when Busi­ness ceases, and gives place to their Evening-Recreation; promising they shall have Singing and Musick to entertain them, if a convenient Place can be appointed, free from Discovery.

This Bait, no doubt, some of them presently nibble at, not discerning the fatal Hook it covers, 'till struck; and a Place is appointed to meet in the Evening: our Shift has notice of it from his Renegado-Scout, and fails not to come, provided with his Implements, dressed in the Beauish Fashion: his Carolina laced, pinched up in three Corners; his long Wig poudered, and Coat Mealed to the small of his Back. And being sure to be at the prefixed Place, first leaves a Number at the Bar, which those that come to him may ask for; the [...] trips up Stairs, and requests the Drawer (who follows him) to shew the privatest Room, remotest from Noise and Company, for his Business requires it. Promising him as Encouragement, if he draw good Wine, something over and above the Reckoning, that will fall to his Share. The Room shewn, he [Page 49]enters, and takes his place at the upper end of the Table, calls for a Flask, and sits humming to him­self, 'till the Youngsters drop in one by one, and are a [...]l received by him with profound Ceremony and Respect; speaking little, 'till his Scout comes in, who waits on the Stairs the while, to direct the Youngsters as they come up; that they may not mis­take the Room, bolt into other Company unawares, or be seen by such as may inform their Masters or Parents. For under this Head I comprise not only Apprentices, but Youths that are under the Tuition of their Friends: for this Haggard flyes at both. When no more are expected at this time, the Intro­ducer or Petty Master of the Ceremonies makes an Harangue to them, how exceeding glad he is to see so many of his Croneys, giving them a hearty Wel­come, and bidding them to be merry.

Then our Shift taking up the Glass, turns off a Brimmer to their Prosperity, and so passes it about. And when it has pretty well gone round, their Spirits beginning to be exhilerated with the Juice of the Grape, he makes an Apology, that for his Friend's sake, he being altogether a Stranger to them, he is made so happy as to be blessed with their good Company; and that if any thing lies in him to serve them, now or any other time, they may not only request, but command it. Then changes his Discourse, and falls upon an Encomium, praising the Youth of the City, as the Prop and Ornament of it; and uses all his Stock of Flattery, to swell them with a Conceit of their Parts and Abilities; whil'st they sit listening with their Mouths at half-cock, in a steady attention to his fallacious Dialect; being struck to admiration with his fine way of Speaking: and from that time, they think him a Person well educated, and of Parts and Learning.

When he perceives he has gained a Point, he makes a full stop, sits silent a while, and then drinks about; which done, his Companion perswades him to give them a Tune or two, on his Flute, or Haut-boy, which he readily agrees to; then pulling out some Songs set to Musick, though he knows not the Notes; to bear them in hand he sings them, looking on his paper: After that, so feed their Curiosity farther, out comes Jack-in-a-box, and other Imple­ments, used in the Art of Hocus-pocus, or Leger-de-main; and by slight of Hand, seems to do Miracles, appearing to them no less, than a topping Conjurer, or dealer in the Black Art: So that much taken with the Man, their Hearts grow open, and after whispe­ring together, one is deputed to step down and order a Treat, that they may in some measure grati­fie him, for his civil Obligements, and at parting will not suffer him to pay a Farthing, though he draws his Money, and earnestly presses to do it, whilst his Eye is on their hands, to see who draws most Money; for it is a Vanity in Youth on such occasions, in ostentation to pull out all they have about them at once, and make a rattling with it, though there be but a trifle to pay: Nor does he forget to ask what 'tis a clock, pretending some ap­pointment he has made, to meet a Friend, or an Assignation with a Lady, whom for the World he would not disappoint; when the main drift of it is, to see how they are accommodated, with Watches, at this time no Gaming is proposed, unless they propose it themselves, and then he seems to disap­prove it, or put it off to a more seasonable oppor­tunity, because it will waste more time, that at pre­sent it will be convenient perhaps for them; but especially for him to spare: And the reason that moves him so to do is, because he keeps this in re­serve, [Page 51]till he can single them one by one, and bubble them to his greater advantage: And so at this time they break up, appointing the next meeting, and every one departs highly satisfied, no Complements being spared on either hand.

After two or three General Meetings he becomes intimately acquainted with them, knows all their Names, and the Places of their Abode; and now it is his Business to single them out, that his De­signs may be carried on more close and cunningly, and that with celerity, that they may not have time to take Air; and concluding he has no far­ther use for his Tool or Implement of a Renegado Ap­prentice he first wrought withal, but proving a Hang­er on, he may become troublesom and dangerous, his next business is to shut his hands of him; and can propose to himself no surer way, than by pack­ing him to one of the Plantations, for that will pro­duce two Advantages, viz. To hinder his telling Tales, and making a Prize of him. This resolved on, he professes a world of Friendship to him, boasts that he has been a great Traveller, and how plea­sant it is to be abroad; commends the Civility and Good Nature of Forreigners to the Skies, and what great Estates and Preferments Young-men have got abroad, who at home were destitute of Friends and Habitations: then perceiving the Cully attentive to what he sayes, he demands if he be willing to Tra­vel, and he will help him to a Merchants Service, who will entertain him at Fifty Pounds a Year, his Horse, and good Table, to be Overseer of a Planta­tion: Our Youngster being cast off by his Friends for his lewd way of Living, and the Tricks he has played to to their prejudice and disgrace, and al­most weary of a Raking Life, attended with Want, ten to one hearkens to this; if he does, his next [Page 52]Business is to look out for a Master-Kidnapper, who is to represent the Merchant, he is bound by Inden­ture, but with solemn promises of Freedom: only this is a complying with the Law, for otherwise, if search be made, it would obstruct his passage: and thus being underhand for a small matter, he is wood-cocked into Slavery, to repent at leisure his Folly, in not knowing when he was well in the Esteem of his Friends, and placed with a good Master, with whom had he served out his Time, it might have been the making of him for ever. If this way fail, he has another, which is to wheedle out of him, where he has run in Debt, and sends one, for he will not be seen in it himself, to discover where he is, and perswade his Creditors to put him in Gaol, assuring them, that then his Friends will compassionate him, pay his Debts, and take him. And by this Treachery he is laid up in Lavender, I know not how long, but un­doubtedly till our Shift has done his Work, without any danger of Obstruction from him. If he be enquired after by any that hath been in their Company, he protests he has not seen him of late, and believes he is gone into the Country; for the last time he was with him, he talked that his Friends had sent for him, and then he intended to go down, to see what they would do on his behalf, in setting him in some Way.

This the Coast being cleared, our Shift cull [...] out first those that he thinks the ablest, having the Confidence to go to the Shop; but if he sees the Master, or any one that is apt to take notice, he asks for somebody he thought, as he says, had lodg­ed there, or for some Goods he knows they have not to sell, winking at the Young-man to talke no notice of him; but watches his opportunity when the Ma­ster's back is turned, to slide a Note, which he has [Page 53]always ready on such Emergencies, into the Ap­prentices hand, to let him know where he shall meet him in the Evening; and not to bring any with him, because he has something of Importance to dis­course him about; when they meet, he embraces him with abundance of kindness, assuring him he is the Favorite of Fortune, and his Stars smile upon him; when the Young-man demands what he means by these Expressions, he bids him call to remembrance, if he did not see a Coach stay before his Master's Door such a Day, and about such an Hour: Upon this pauseing a little, he replies he did; why, says he, in that Coach there was a handsom, rich, young Lady, who seeing you standing at the Door, fixed her Eyes on you steadfastly, do you remember any thing of that? It might be so, replies our Appren­tice, I think, to the best of my remembrance, there was a Woman in it, but I did not mind her Eyes; well, 'tis no matter, says he, whither you did or not, but she so well noted your comely Features and Person, that by all signs and tokens, as I am infor­med by her Waiting Gentlewoman, she is fallen des­perately in Love with you; and if it comes to so hap­py a business as Marriage, you are made for ever; the Sign, Trade and Description answers: But I would not have you confuse your Thoughts about it, till I enquire into farther Particulars, and then if I can be any ways assisting to bring you together, you shall find me a sincere and Cordial Friend: For as I understand, though Love, has got the Mastery, yet being a Virgin, and but young, her Blushes, and Shame of such a Visionary-Love, that took her flying as it were, there will be some difficulty (should you be admitted a Visit) to bring her to own her passion for you, till time and your services give her an ho­nourable Opportunity.

Our Youngster now in his hot Blood, tickles his Fancy at this, though but a feigned Story, to draw Presents from him, which he pretends to hand to her Gentlewoman, who is his intimate Acquaintance; the better to make his Letter he sends with them acceptable, and exact an Answer from the fair One. If the Young-man is not over-credulous in this mat­ter, he has many Stories at his Tongues-end, taken out of Novels and Romances, that Loves irresistible Power has compelled Queens to lay their Diadems at the Feet of Shepherds; and great Princesses who might have had Kings with Kingdoms to their Dow­ry, to doat on a Slave. But the Presents and Let­ter are not required, till he first see the Lady; yet it must be at a distance, and as if by chance, and no speaking to her, the first time at least. In the mean while, he rooks Money out of him, to ac­complish him in playing on the Flute, Violin, Sing­ing, to make a Courtlike Address, and Compliment alamode; that his Parts and Knowledge Abeing im­proved, he may be the fitter Match for a Lady: And all this while the Young-man treats high, however he pinches to come by it, and rarely they part with­out Gaming, which drains his Pockets; but what cares he, this great Match will abundantly recom­pence: And for Diet and other Necessaries, there needs no Money to purchase that, for he knows who is bound to provide it for him.

If his Stock at any time fails, he can borrow of neighbouring Apprentices, and many times they have a common Stock amongst them, to supply ur­gent necessities. The Love-Story still running in the Young-Man's Mind, hoping by such means to be his own Master before his Time is expired, has the Ladies fancied Idea in his Mind sleeping and waking, and is as often deluded with pleasing Dreams. [Page 55]But being often put off with delays of knowing who she is, or seeing of her, he grows so impatient, that his supposed Friend is forced to promise him a sight of her, lest he should think himself deluded, and fall off before he has accomplished his ends; yet can set him no Day then, but the next time he comes, tells him he now can make him happy in his desires, that he may have a full view of her to his Hearts content; for her Gentlewoman informed him, she goes this very Evening to divert her Me­lancholy at the Play-house in — her place in one of the Boxes, and he knowing her, can easily show him which is she, if he will prepare to go thither: Our Youngster's heart leaps within him at this Mo­tion, dresses himself spruce, and wants not a pre­tence to get leave to go out for an hour or two.

Being in the Pit, which costs our Young-man Five Shillings, for on this blessed Occasion he can­not refuse paying for both. Our Shift watches as the Ladies come in, to take their Seats, and espying one young, gay and beautiful, he claps our Young-man about the Neck, and whispers him, that's she who came in last or middlemost, describing her Ha­bit, that he may not mistake, then all Play-time he minds neither Actors nor Musick, his Eyes are fixt on the charming Fair; and if she casts her Eye on him, as likely she does by chance, as well as upon others, this heightens his Joyes, puts him into Tran­sports and Raptures, and from this time firmly be­lieves all that was told him: so that perhaps he really falls in Love, and doats on a Lady that per­haps is Married; which neither he nor his Fellow knows where to find: However, under this umbrage he is rooked of his Money, and perhaps of more than his own, sends a letter full of endearing Ex­pressions, with as rich a Present as he can make, [Page 56]and has a forged or counterfeit answer, if not at the first, yet certainly at the second sending, in somewhat doubtful Terms, yet hinting the recep­tion of his Presents, and promising a sutable Re­turn. But not to dwell too long on this Matter, when he has dreined him of all his Money, Goods, Wearing Apparel, which he obliges him to take up of his Taylor, &c. and sees there is little more coming; or that the Young-man thus deluded, begins to smell a Rat, he drops off; and leaves him to seek this Lady in the Clouds, where he can find her; which if he happens to do, he will be never the wiser, for she is altogether ignorant of the Matter; and if he should be so foolish to make any presumptuous Pretensions, confiding what he told him is real, he may happen to get a good Drubbing, be Tossed in a Blanket, or worse used; as I knew one served not long since, who built on the same Foun­dation.

Our Shift has many other Devices to ensnare Young-men: If he perceives they are not Amo­rous one way, he attacks them another; if Marriage charm not, he has a Crack in a corner for him, whom he calls Cousin, by whose assistance he chains them to him, or entangles them so fast in the Net of Flattery and Deceit, till he can pluck their Plumes: He denies not but she is a Married Wo­man, though indeed there is nothing in it; but this by another Statagem serves a turn, for she being very [...]ocose, and familiar, one or other of the Youngsters he brings her acquainted with, will push on for a Favour, as he foolishly terms it, but she in the midst of yeilding, puts on a Coy Look, with what do ye mean by this rudeness? Will struggle, and pretends on a suddain, all the unwillingness in the World; if she picks not his Pocket, she will be sure [Page 57]to get his Pocket-book, or something that is re­markably known to be his, which perhaps at that time he misses not, nor does she give him time to do it; for in a great huff, with Threats and bent Brows, sometimes forcing Tears, which she has at com­mand, she flings away; and if a Bully-Rock, pre­tending to be her Husband, enter not presently with a Sham-Constable and Warrant, to demand Satisfaction for the Abuse done to his Wife; to be sure within a Day or two the Youngman is sent for to the Tavern, hemn'd in by two or three grim look'd Fellows, charged with the rude Abuse which has made the Woman Miscarry, and endangered her Life; then threatned, with abundance of hard Words, mingled with dire Imprecations; if he de­ny it, they produce what she took from him, as a demonstrable Witness: So that at legth not know­ing what to say or think of the matter, he propo­ses, to save his Reputation, and the farther danger he may incur, an Accommodation, and so they fleece him of his ready Money, Rings, Watch, &c. but these wanting, if of Age, they take something in part, and bring him into Bond, which they have ready, to fill up themselves; for they are as fraid to have it known, as he is; for that they are sure will spoil their Market. If this seems to be the last Stake, then Mr. Shift leaves our Youngster; if not, when he hears of it, he rages, raves and storms at a prodigious rate, vowing they shall repent putting such a Trick upon his Friend: Then by degrees growing milder, begins to chide the Youngman for being so unadvisedly rash; when the truth is, he went away and left them together, to no other end then to bring this about: And if before it was made up he had been sought to mediate the matter, it would have been as hard to have found him, as a [Page 58]Needle in a Bottle of Hay; for he absented his Lodging, and disguised himself, not to be found; and indeed it behoved him, since he laid the Plot, and comes in for two Thirds of the Profit.

Sometimes there is another Stratagem of this na­ture in the wind, though the Youngman frolicks on a Barren Heath where nothing will grow; yet the subtil Female will in a little time appear pregnant with a Cushion, and sending for him to a Tavern or some other more convenient place, with a He or She confident to back the Design, and calls her Sister, upon his first approach with, a feigned Passion will burst into Tears, sobbing and sighing under her Hood for a pretty space, whilst the Youngman stands in admiration, what should cause this sudden Passion, and who this should be; doubtful whither to advance or retreat, the Dissembling Sorrowful Crack Companion intreats him to sit down, and shutting the Door, carefully listens, as to be infor­med if any be near, and then in a grave set Speech begins, Sir, do not you know my Sister here? And when he protests he does not; well, continues he or she, you did once, to her Shame and the Disgrace of our Family, never stained before; though now perhaps you would willingly blot her out of your remembrance: But that shall not excuse you, nor serve your turn, hold up your head Betty, and let the Gentleman see your Face more plainly, to re­fresh his treacherous Memory; nay never blush for the matter, what's done cannot be recalled: But one would have thought you might have been wiser before this had happened: Upon this our seemingly distres­sed Damsel rises, wipes her Eyes, uncovers her Face, and shews something like a great Belly, and with a Sigh says, Sir do you not know me? I am sure by woful Experience I have cause to know you, and [Page 59]shall to the last moment of my Life. What, you cannot call me to remembrance I'l warant, now I wish I had never seen your Eyes, nor you mine: And then she falls to weeping and wringing her Hands, Well well, says her Confident, this is no jesting matter, never mince it, you know my Sister well enough; you were introduced by such a one as a Lover, but like an ungentile Wretch as you are, over­powering the poor Creature with Drink, that base Man withdrawing, and leaving you together, you rudely played a wild Freak; see Sir, pointing to her Belly, the effect of your Frolicksomness: There­fore to be short, either Marry my Sister, to repair her lost Honour, and in some manner, blot out the Stain you have cast on our Family; or we will make not only the City, but all England too hot to hold you.

The Youngman now calling something of the Face before him, to mind; and remembring his Fol­ly, stands as one Thunder-struck, amazed and con­founded, not knowing what to reply; whilst the pretended Sister enumerates what Matches she might have had, and what mighty Fortunes this has hin­dered her of; and to be brief, if he have any thing of an Estate, they terrify him, for want of taking better Counsel, into a ruinous and fatal Marriage; if not, which mostly succeeds, he strains himself by all the ways he can (it matters not to them whi­ther, lawful or unlawful) to give her a present Sum of Money, with a Bond or solemn Promise to maintain the Child at Nurse, if it lives; least his Friends knowing it, he should be Disinherited, or cast out of their Favour, and the whole redound to his perpetual Disgrace; and so for the present it is laid asleep, but at length comes a Bill for the Charges of her Lying-in, and a Child is borrowed of [Page 60]a conniving Nurse, and produced, whose Nursing he must be content to pay for, though he got not one, nor she never had any, or he conceits worse will follow: And out of this, his supposed Friend has a considerable Snack.

These are not all the Intrigues to bubble Young-men, and gull them out of their Money; for some­times walking together, Sweeteners are laid by appointment in their way, who purposely drop Money or Brass-Rings gilded, and suddenly taking them up, as if realy found, our Hawks-eyed Shift steps forward, and cryes halves Gentlemen, you have found something, and it is but reasonable we should see what it is; nay, says one of the Sweet­ners, if you see me take it up, it is but fair you should: Then it is produced, perhaps Half-a-Crown, Half-Guinea, or a Ring, if the first or second, one of the Stweeteners proposes to go to such a House, and there divide it equally over a Pot of Beer, Ale or a Glass of such as the House affords: For since they had such good luck in accidentally jumping together, it is all the reason in the World, they should not part with dry Lips. Our Youngster is soon allured to accompany them, seeing his supposed Friend very forward in the matter, and so hasts as a Bird to the Snare. The House entred, and Li­quor called called for, the Money is punctually di­vided; and the Glass or Mugg goes merrily round, till one rising to Piss, finds where he or his Com­panion had placed it; a Pack of Cards, or a Box with Dice in some odd Corner, and shewing them to the Company, says here has been Gamsters I see, and what harm would it be, if we should play a Game to pass away half an Hour or so; we cannot have better Drink any where. To this Motion our Youth says little, and our Shift appearingly de­clines [Page 61]it, pretending hasty Business; but the other two, for they always hunt in Couples, engage, but Play very awkardly, as if they were Novices at Gaming; whereupon our shift whispers our Young-man, saying, if he will go his halves, he will take them up, seeing they are so eager for Play, and doubts not but to make a Penny of them; urg­ing their Ignorance as the main reason that incites him to it: So upon the wink, one of them on the losing hand, throws up and says he will play no more, for he finds Fortune jilts him at this time, though at others she has been constant to him: Then our Shift takes up the Conqueror, and wins many small Stakes, then his Adversary as en­raged his Luck is changed, challenges him to double, vowing to win the Horse or lose the Saddle; and the Game at length running very high, the crafty Knave that before seemed to play nothing, turns luck, as he calls it; and our Youngster, plyed with Bumpers till his Brains begin to Crow, to keep the Humour up, either by going halves, or ventu­ring to revenge the loss, himself is in the end stript; and when they see him turn his Pockets, and no more Money appears, they fleering whisper, and say the Lamb is Bitten: His supposed Friend however to make him some amends, as he says, be­cause he was partly the occasion of the Loss, pays his Shot, goes out with him in a Huff, swearing they are Cheats, and if he had but an Officer at hand, he would make them know it before he part­ed with them: Upon this they retort, and bluster at a high rate, so that the Young-man fearing a Quarrel may arise, and mischief ensue, has his care lessened, for the loss of his Money, by the Joy he conceives of being got from them.

If it happen to be a Ring or counterfeit Jewel, [Page 62]they pretend to find, they are not hasty to go to any House, but it is shewed round and every one sets his value on it, except our Youngster, who confides in his treacherous Friend, who whispers him he is confident it is right, and if so, worth much more; and if he had Money enough about him, he would give them their Shares, send them packing, and be a considerable Gainer by the Bargain. Upon this the Young-man is incited to lay down the Money, it may be 20 s. for the value of Six-pence, and our Shift knowing where they rendezvous, comes in for his Share. If the Young-man offers it, and finds it a counterfeit, he complains the next meet­ing to our Shift, who pretends much Sorrow for his oversight, and protests he was never so deceived in his Life; but as for his Share, he is willing to re­turn it, but his Pockets at present will not speak. However, at another time he shall have it in Mo­ney, or a Treat, which he pleases; this is taken kindly, and so all is hush between them.

When he perceives our Youngster pretty well drained, and not likely in ready Rino, to hold out much longer, the Harvest being Reaped, he cares not to stay for the Leasings, and therefore af­ter many endearments, acquaints him he is to go into the Country to see his Rich Relations, and would willingly appear amongst them like himself, but wants an Equipage; therefore if he knows any Mercer, Draper, Haberdasher or Taylor that he can recommend him to, to New-Rig him, and pass his word with him till his Return, which will be in a few Weeks, with a great sum of Money he is to re­ceive, left him as a Legacy by his Uncle, a Year past; and so long it must be, because he would not have Mourning Cloaths, he will gratefully acknowledge it; and if the Young-man has such an Interest, 'tis [Page 63]Ten to One but he makes use of it, though he must certainly pay it himself; for our Shift, at taking leave, making a small Treat, grows bold, and bor­rowing of him the little he his left, troops off, ne­ver to see him more, if he can help it; unless he hears he is reinstocked, or well set up, and then he's doubtful, till he has sent others to sound him; lest his Eyes being open, to see the many Cheats imposed on him, he should in detestation of his Folly and Extravagancy, seek Reparation, and set the blew Butter-fly on his; ?so that being forcibly crouded on the wrong side the door, he must be constrained to come to an Accompt before he can get out of the Compter, though many times it comes not to this, for the unfortunate Youth not able to bring his Masters Cast to a bearing, or even his Accompts, his Credit also cracked abroad; for shame and fear deserts his Service, and thereupon in all likelihood is deserted by his Relations, when they understand the cause of it; and so loft forlorn and miserable, unless Fortune by a lucky Accident hand him into some Gentile Place or Employment, little expected. Much more might be said on this Sub­ject, but this being sufficient to caution Appren­tices, and other Youngmen, to shun such Vermin, who seek to prey upon them: I now proceed to give Advice to the Female Sex, especially of the Younger sort, who are in no less danger to tread on Snares, unless an extraordinary Prudence and Con­duct be a Precaution to them.

CHAP. V.

IT must be acknowledged, that young Gentle­women cannot be altogether excused from being in some measure guilty of the Vanity of the Times, and not a little in Love with Affectation; and there­fore before I come close to my intended purpose, I shall, though it may appear some digression, shew what they are. These are not well to be divided, though I must not call them Twins, because more properly Vanity may be taken for the Mother, and Affection for her darling Daughter: Vanity is the Sin and Affectation the Punishment; the first may be called the Root of Self-love, and the latter the Fruit. Vanity is never at its full growth, till it brancheth into Affectation, and then it is unluckily compleat for designing Men to build on, and brood a Ruin too great to be shaken off, but by the Fall of what supported it.

As for those that practise on Young Ladies and Gentlewomen, I shall briefly, according to my Me­thod, give you the Character of one for all, which may give a clear insight to the whole Knot of these Intriguing Dissemblers.

He is a younger Brother, whom his unkind Father dealt with, as Pharoah did with the Children of Israel; expecting he should make Brick without [Page 65]Straw: that is, to live at home as a Gentleman, and leave him nothing to maintain his Gentility, when thrust abroad: he hated, with the Irish-man, that his Son should be a Trades-man, though of never so Gentile a Calling, for fear of murthering his Genti­lity; not thinking that after his Decease, the Gentle­man must perhaps be converted into a Serving-man, and it is well if he be no worse: So that the Pride of his House hath undone him. What would any one now have this poor Gentleman do? his Father Dead, his Elder Brother's Old Suits and he are much alike in request; he's cast off with a little Money in his Purse, that the Sight and Memory of him and his Father may perish together. This makes him hate the Country, and to London he comes, in hopes to improve his Breeding, by learning the Modish-ways of the Town; but falling in with Sharpers, he is soon bubbled of the little Money he brought from home, yet learns Experience by it, and seeing it a thriveing Trade, resolves by degrees to proceed to the practice of it; and to be the better ground­ed in it, resorts Ordinaries, Coffee-houses and Lot­teries, where he overlooks and gathers something from their Discourse and Managment of Policies and Intrigues, Cheats, Wheedles, Culling, Shams, and the like; and lest his Memory prove Treacherous when he has occasion to use them, he notes them down in his Pocket-Book as Memorandums; furnish­ing himself over and above with Pleasant Jests and Merry Tales; but for all this practising on Men, he frequently finds his Silly Banter turned on him­self, and is often Buffooned and outw [...]t [...]ed by those he supposes to over-reach; which grates on his Sto­mach, and makes him conclude the Task too hard for his Understanding; but however, having scraped up a little Money at All-Fours, Cribbidge and ven­turing [Page 66]a Kicking by Setting a Main, when he had not a Doit in his Pocket to answer it, if his Luck had failed; and so keeping up a pretty Jaunty Garb, Fortune at length throws him upon a French Dan­cing-Master, as full of Folly and Vanity as an Ape of Tricks, whose Business it is, as he calls it, to lend the Ladies the use of his Fool, to teach them the Alamode Complement, the Reverence, and Fantast­ick Humours of his Nation, which is, as he tells us, always to Change. This one Mamouchee brings him acquainted with the Women, and he soon finds their Blind-side, how much Flattery is pleasing to them, and serves as Satan's Bellows, to blow up the least Spark of Pride into a Flame; for having learn­ed to Dance the Antick, he is for some time pre­ferred to be his Usher, which over and above gets him large acquaintance with the Tender Sex; and his Study is next, how he may best Humour them, and so decoy them into misfortune.

In his Discourse he is carefull to avoid all rough and Beastly Language, and is not guilty of the Incor­rigible Folly of some whose Heads being full of Fire and Sword, batteries, Assaults, and Storming Towns; though perhaps they had as lieve hear the Devil as a Drum in War, and always were so tender of their Persons, as never to come within Cannon-Shot; he concludes such Discourse rather frightens Tender hearted Ladies, than chains a Listening Attention; and rather makes them afraid, than give any desire to seek his Conversation; and therefore takes another course, and is very ca [...]tious that his Language may in nothing offend them, studying all manner of ways to please and accommodate himself to their manner of Behaviour; entertaining them with a New Song, or witty Passages, culled out of the newest Plays; and if he finds them in a brisk jolly Humour, [Page 67]then out comes a Lampoon, which he insinuates was lately made on some Person of Quality; reads it, and cunningly skips over the Smutty or Bawdy part of it. Instead of speaking in form of Syllogisms and Pedantry, like things newly fluttered out of the University, and being but Pen-feathered in Under­standing, come hopping to Town; he is wise to divert them with what they understand; tells them of a Ball, where such and such fine Ladies are to pass the Evening, and what excellent New Play is to be acted to morrow; if he perceives them inclined to Melancholy, out comes his Flute or Violin; if they resolve to be Serious, he is Complaisant in that: If he sees any wantonly inclined, he knows how to single her out, and not give offence to the rest; and can give her her Bellyful of Toying, from whom he quickly retires, for fear of cloying; for it is not to dwell too long at once in one Chamber, he seeks variety, and makes his Visits accordingly; nor is he suffered to depart empty-handed, or it any be slack in rewarding his Service, he is furnish­ed with a sufficient stock of Impudence to frame a pretence to Borrow; or in toying slip a Diamond-Ring from the Finger, which he seems to take in Jest, but keeps in Earnest. By this means he grows more gay and sparkish, and as his trim Garniture is much taking in the Eyes of Amourous young Fe­males, so his well-timed Discourse Charms their Ears, and raises Diversion out of every small Occur­rence; when in one Scene he has given them all the Delight he is able, he is so prudent, lest it grow tedious, to shift it to another, never continuing in one Humour so long 'till it become distastful: he is not ignorant that the choicest Delights soonest Surfeit, and that continual feeding on one Dish, though ne­ver so delicate, in time will nauseate the Stomach; [Page 68]he therefore varies his Diversion sutable to the Hu­mour of the Sex, which renders his Visits acceptable, longed for, and his departure never without regret, 'till the upshot comes, and they plainly see his whole Business has been to deceive. For if at any time they have a mind to be Treated, he Scruples not to do it with much Gallantry and Generosity, as knowing how to reimburse himself in the Conclusion: Out of this inclosed Seraglio he plays the Grand Seignor, Calls out one best pleasing to him, or Richer than the rest, waits on her to the Park, a Ball, or Play; in each of which he Infinitely pleases, giving her an opportunity to Expose her Beauty and Gallantry; but whilst she is endeavouring by all her Arts and Subtiltys to set her self off for Sale, little thinks she that he is practiscing on her Easiness and over-Cre­dulity, to ruin her in her Faine and Fortune; for Ten to One, that he may not tickle his Trout too long, and so run the hazard of loseing her, he enflames her with Wine, into which he secretly conveys provoking Drugs in fine Ponder, not discernable in the Li­quids, to heat her Blood, and heighten her Desires; then by a smooth insinuating Flattery, with delu­ding Words, he corrupts her Judgment, and over­powers her Conscience, which made her before to start at the Thoughts of any such thing: So that with little Scruple an Assignation is made, and she im­prudently Surrenders her Honour without Condi­tions; and from that moment he dates her Person and Fortune at his disposal. And having Rooked her out of what he could himself, in Rings, Jewels, or Ready Money, but he either gives her the slip, and leaves her to lament at leisure her hasty Folly, or pushes her to be yet more miserable, on some one of his Shabby Companions; under pretence of his being a Country Knight or Esquire, who has a con­siderable [Page 69]Estate, keeps his Coach and Six, has a numerous Attendance to wait on him: And this Bargain is clapt up in Hugger-mugger, without the least knowledge of her Relations or Friends; who no sooner hear of it, but they cast her o [...]f, or if she has any Fortune they cannot hinder her o [...], her extravagant Husband soon makes it fly; and then resolving not to see her Want, makes up his Pack and Travels into Terra Incognita, and so left in a poor abandoned Condition, brought up too deli­cate to Labour, Temptations Prompt her from Ill to Worse, laying a Stain on her Family, and a last­ing Infamy on her self.

As he does by one, so he deals by all, but by dif­ferent means; for there is as much variety of Hu­mour, Inclination and Passion in Womankind, as there is in Man, and they must be accordingly wrought on by due Conformity, for advantage: though I shall not here go about (for it would be an endless labour) to discover all the Plots, Snares, Stratagems, Whims, Contrivances, Projects, Flat­teries and Insinuations he useth himself, and by Proxy procures, to wriggle himself first into the good liking and affection of Young Gentlewomen and others; and having made himself Secretary of their Honour, he disposes of their Reputation and Fortunes, according to his own Discretion, Building on a Foundation their Ruins, to brave it with the best. And now I shall conclude this Chapter, with some sober Advice and Caution to young La­dies and Gentlewomen, as to their Carriage and Be­haviour, to avoid the Snare so frequently laid by Crafty Men, to intrap them at Unawares.

To Men therefore you are to have a Behaviour that may secure you without offending them; no ill-bred affected Shiness nor roughness, unsutable to [Page 70]your Sex, and unnecessary to your Virtue; but such a way of Behaviour as may prevent all coarse Ralleries or unmannerly Freedoms; a Look that may forbid without Rudeness, and Oblige without Invitation, or leaving room for Mens sawcy Infe­rences to suggest advantages over you, or their Vanities ot lay hold on: for gaining the least En­couragement, or Hope to Triumph over your Virtue. This point is so very nice, that it ought to engage you to have a perpetual Watch on your Eyes; con­sidering that a careless Glance often gives more en­couragement than many Words; the Language of the Eyes is very Significant, and Cunning, Designing Men can interpret it to your Prejudice, and their own Advantage. Your Civility, which is always to be preserved, must not be carried so high as a Compliance, which may Betray you into irrecovera­ble Mistakes.

Beware of the Vanity of desiring to gain a Con­quest over Men, as some foolishly attempt to do; and like the Moth, burn themselves in the Flames; nay think themselves secure of not having their Ho­nour tainted by it. Some are fondly apt to believe their Virtues obscure, and not sufficiently known, unless exposed by a larger, or set out to the best advantage, by some publick Trials; but these are dangerous Experiments, and usually fail, being built on the weak Foundation of too great a Confidence in themselves. It is as dangerous to Play with Light­ning, as to Dally with Gallantry. it is a Conspi­ring against your selves, and giving Treacherous Men a power to gain an easy Conquest; and from a pre­tending Admirer, soon becomes Victor, and grows to be a Master over your Affections. The first reso­lution of stopping at a good Opinion and Esteem, by degrees grows weaker against the Charms of Insi­nuation; [Page 71]and Flattery skilfully applied, you will be apt to think a Man speaks to much Reason, whilst he is Commending you, that you will have much ado to believe him in the wrong, when he is Craftily undermining you, and insensibly, as it were Steal­ing away your Affections. And, over and above the natural Inclination your Sex has to be merciful, you are apt to be Bribed by a well-chosen Flattery, and so are in danger to be taken like a Bird listening to the Call of a Fowler, that has laid a Snare for it.

Conquest is so tempting a thing, that it frequent­ly makes you mistake Mens Submissions, which with all their fair appearances, have generally less Re­spect than Art in them: Therefore let it be your Business, to remember where there is a sly Insinua­tion, without much Ostentation of fine Words or Compliments, you are to suspect a Design, to gain admittance under a Disguise; therefore you ought to be upon your guard, and consider, that of the two, Respect is more dangerous than Anger; it puts for a time the best Understandings out of their place, 'till second Thoughts restore them; it steals insen­sibly upon you, and throws down your Defences, making it too late to Resist after that advantage is is given: whereas Anger mostly breaketh out into a found, and passing away in a noise, gives warn­ing to be Cautious; whilst Respect is a slow, yet a certain Poison that swells you; and where it pre­vaileth too much, it turns to a kind of Apoplexy in the Mind, turning it quite round; and after once it has seized the Understanding, becometh Mortal. For these Reasons, the securest way is to Treat it like a sly and crafty Enemy, and to be perpetually on the Watch, Guarded against it.

To treat here of Reservedness, would be too long, especially to enumerate all the Advantages that at­tend [Page 72]it; therefore I shall only say it is a Guard to those that are Virtuous of your Sex; and a Disguise to such as are Vicious: and of so much use to both, that those who refuse to practiseit as a Virtue, ought to use it as an Artifice.

CHAP. VI.

I Now come to give Advice and Precaution to those of the Female Sex that are of the lower Form, who are also liable to Temptations, and stand very ticklish, if they are not fortified with a good stock of Prudence for their Guard: for these being more exposed, and lying more open to Temptati­ons, than the foregoing, as being of easier access, there are many that make it their Business to draw them into a Snare: for under this Head I shall treat of such as are Servants, and plainly shew them their dangerous Enemy masqued in the Disguise of Friend­ship: and first I shall give his Character.

His Parentage is as obscure as the source of the River Nilus; for he was taken from his Mother, who had made a slip, by a Strowling Beggar for a small Sum, and lugg'd about City and Country at her Back in a Blanket, 'till he was able to trudge after, like the Wild Irish, Bare-Footed; but growing up, her hard usage made him give her the go-by, and endeavour to shift for himself, but Bridewell and the [Page 73]Whiping-Post, in time weaned him off the Begging Trade, and makes him bethink himself of creeping into some Inn, and getting into the Under-Ostlers favour, turns Boot-cleaner, for which he is allow­ed a Lodging under the Manger; and the Maid for some litte Drudgery he does in the Kitchen, feeds him with the Reversion of Scraps, Drink he gets for running of Errands; but in time his Diligence be­ing taken notice of, he is better encouraged, and rises by degrees to be Under-Ostler himself, or is put in some other vacancy, equivalent to it; and whilst he behaves himself tolerably in that Station, his Mistress perhaps casts her Eye on him, and mark­ing his features and good shapes, lets strange Whims run in her Head, that he is someting more than he seems, and concludes him to be of good Parentage; which induces her to Compassion, and to remove him from the offensive Employ of turning up Horse-Dunghils, to one more Gentile, viz. that of Cham­berlain, intrusting him with the clean Sheets! and Keys of the Chambers, possessed with a strange Long­ing to lye her self in a Bed of his making. But be­ing thus on a sudden exalted from the Stable to the best Rooms in the House, not able to manage the fortune of so unexpected a Favour, he all on a sud­den grows Proud, Insolent, and Talkative, on which account he is kicked out of Doors, and has once more the wide World to shift in: he casts many things in his Mind, yet few give a prospect to hit; at length, as he to pass away the time, is talking with a Semstress about some trivial matters, casting his Head about all on a sudden, and espying the counterfeit of his nutbrown Face in her Glass, he presumptuously conceits himself more Charming than Adonis, or more lovely than Narcissus; this vain conceit improves in his Fancy, and swells him into a [Page 74]belief that his Mistress casting her Eyes on him, was not the effect of Chance, but that he wears about him alluring Temptations, that no Female can resist; and having heard it is a thriving way to such as live on their easy Spoyls, it bolts into his Noddle to employ his Talent this way.

Upon this occasion, putting himself into the best Garb Fortune at present will afford him, he Saunters, casting his Eye at every Shop or open Door, to mark out the Game he intends to make his Flight at: If he espies a neat Lass, whereby he guesses she well deserves in her Service, and may be in Stock to answer in some measure his expectation, whether she be intendant of the upper Stories, or Supervisor of the Dripping-pan, Chamber or Cook Maid, it matters not, for all is Fish with him that comes to Net: he stares her wishfully in the Face, and takes a turn or two backward and forward, as if he had some knowledge of her; or so as if he we [...]e doubtful whether that knowledge was certainly grounded, or might prove a mistake; and at that time goes away without any farther notice taken, yet fails not to put in at the next Ale-house, and makes all the Enquiry he can, yet with such cauti­on, that the Relators cannot dive into the meaning of it. What Intelligence he gets, he notes down in his Pocket Book, to help out his Treacherous Me­mory at a dead lift: and if he is so lucky to get her Name, and what Country-breed she is, he hugs him­self, concluding he has gained a main Point; for he doubts not, if he by this means can come into her Company, to wheedle more out of her, so cun­ningly, that putting it into other words, she shall Ten to One forget she told it him, and in some amazement conclude he knows her better than she thinks for; if after he be so lucky to be thereabout, [Page 75]when he sees her go abroad, as on a Holyday, or the like, or sent of an Errand, he passes her, turns back, and stares in her Face, and with a Smile, cryes O, Mrs. Betty or Molly, is it you! I thought I was not mistaken but should know you, though it is so long since I saw you. Upon this, he accosts her with such obliging Behaviour, that the Girl stands amazed, blushes, and gazes on him, dropping a Curtesy, and then breaking silence, says, Truly Sir, you must excuse me, for I cannot call you to re­membrance. It may be not, replyes he, but are you not of such a Country? to which she readily answers yes; then he vows, since his coming to Town, hear­ing she was in Service, but not knowing well where, he has made it his Business to enquire, and thought it was she as he passed by the other day, but not being certain, would not be so bold as to come into the Shop; but since Fortune has been so kind as it were, to throw this happiness upon his, he must intreat her to take a Glass of Ale and an Orange with him. If she excuses it, on the account of ha­sty Business, or Coyness, as not well knowing what to think of the matter, he urges so many seeming Reasons for it, and says he has something to tell her from her Relations, worth her hearing, and not fit to be talked on in the Street, that at length she has no Argument against his Perswasions.

Being in the place he would be, he sounds her Mind, about her like or dislike to the City; and what Motives induc'd her to leave the Country, or what else he can gather from her; who marking his courteous Behaviour and profound Respect, at length she shakes off her Scruples and Fears, growing more free and open with him; so that in a little time he comes to know the place of her Birth and Parentage, if she knows it her self. Then his next Business is [Page 76]to praise them to the Skys for their Honesty and In­dustry, still he perswades her that he knew her and them, a long time. If she ask his Name, he takes up­on him that of some noted Family in the Country, but at a pretty distance, lest he should be taken trip­ping: and to be brief, after some soft pr [...]gs of her Lips, he begins to change the Discourse to that which is somewhat Amourous; demands how she stards affected to Marriage, and whether she be en­gaged; and being resolved in these, he protests him­self, from the first time he saw her, had a kindness for her; and hearing she had left the Country, it was one main Motive that brought him to London, where by Providence he is settled in a good Employ: but that nothing so joys his Heart, as that he is blessed in finding her out, which seems to him as if Heaven designed their happiness. And by such De­vices, stealing insensibly into the Maids unguarded Affections, she scruples not for the future to meet him by appointment, or come to him, if her time will possibly give her leave, when he sends for her. If at any time she enquires into his Business, as to what Station he is in, he tells her he belongs to the Customs, Excise, or the like, but gives her no par­ticular Account, lest the matter coming closer, her scrupulosity should put her upon the curiosity of ma­king an Enquiry which would not hold Water.

And because he has, or expects many to deal with on the like account, he pushes on his dissembled Love apace, presenting her, the better to colour it, with some Trifles, and Treats of Cakes and Ale, when they walk abroad, to Hackney or Islington. And now his Prospect begins to work, for Love corrupting her Judgment, and overpowering her Reason, he finds he has brought her to his Bent, and can mold [Page 77]her as he think [...]. The solemn Engagement of a speedy Marriage is reciprocally given and taken; and then dreaming of nothing, but in a short time to be a Mistress; and firmly relying on the Fidelity of his Promises, bound with Vows and Oaths, T [...] to One (things not to be got quickly in a readiness for Marriage, or her Time not up) he prevails with her to let him make a Pye-Corner-Ensurance upon her Belly, which Point if he can gain, he is confident she will deny him nothing: he then takes an op­portunity when he has heightned her in a loving Mood, to complain of Disappointments in receiving Money, what great Advantages he is likely to lose for want of it; and when he Lent it, he did not expect to be trifled with, but thought it had been ready Money at any time, when he should call for it. Then out come Bills or Bonds, signed by we know not who, and he seems to fret like Gam'd T [...]ff [...]ty, to be so ungentilely used, when he lent it with so good a meaning, to do them a kindness; that Fifty Pounds are due to him, for his Sallary the Last-Quarter; and relying on that which never used to fad, has streightned him. The easie loving Fool, blinded with Passion, presently concludes, he wants this Money chiefly to provide things necessary for their Wedding, but is Ashamed to own it, on that accompt freely offers what assistance she can give him, and if all her ready Money seems not to satisfie him, she will not stick upon the least motion he makes, if she be in credit, to Borrow of her Fellow-Servants; But as she has been instructed, conceals from them to what end she does it; however, after this he leaves not off making his Visits, for he has yet ano­ther Game to play, and under the notion of being her Cosin, has at length liberty to come to the House, especially privately, among the Servants; and then [Page 78]Bottles of Wine, Ale, or what the House affords, are pinched at seasonable times and set by, to Treat; and she will not stick to spare the best Bit she can Light on out of her own Belly, to put in his; who has, as she supposes, been so king to her, and if there be a fear of surprize by the Master or Mistress, that he may create Anger, she has a By­closet to hide him, or sometimes for haste per­haps, Whelms him under a large Wash-Tub or Brew­ing Vessel, where he may peep through the half Bung-hole, like a Dog under a door, to see when the Coast is clear, though that she is as careful of that as he, to give the hint, upon the first opportu­nity, to be packing.

By this means he has an opportunity to see the ways of the House, and if himself wants Courage to be actually concerned in the Undertaking, yet he is intelligent enough to give Directions to those that will Rob it; and indeed many over-fond Girls have been drawn in to be consenting to, and furthering such Wickedness, at the cost of their Lives, and the Disgrace of their Relations; who had they not met with such Seducers, would never have Dreamed of any thing like it. And of these, I could name many, whose hard Fates have been pittied and much lamented, as not properly their inclination or fault, but their misfortune. But being beside my purpose, I omit the Relations.

Well, by this time he has drained her of all the Coin she has, or can borrow; his Visits are there­fore seldomer, and that excused by excess of Busi­ness: For by this time he has started fresh Game. When she urges Marriage, he puts it off with de­lays, which so troubles her Spirit, that her Work is neglected, she muses often, and grows Melancholy: that quite changed from what she was, her Mistress [Page 79]Chides, and she retorts, so that growing uneasy, she tells him of it at the next meeting; for she other ways knows not where to find him if her Life lay at stake, hereupon he advises her to take what Wages are due to her, pack up her things, and he will provide her a Lodging till they can be Married, and better accom­modated, saying, with a Judas-Kiss, he will not have his Love so used, for he is able to maintain her at as good a rate, as her Master does her Mistress.

The poor deceived Girl takes this as a Mighty kindness, and punctually obeys him; then he con­veys her with her Luggage, to a Lodging he has pro­vided, where he is not known; telling the people before her face she is his Wife; this makes her blush, but being ordered before not to deny it, since they are so by Promise, and shortly shall be legally joined, she accords with him in it; and so for a while one Bed serves them both: but after a Week or two, he sends her on a Sleeveless Errand, and paying off the Lodgings, companions of his own, in the Habit of [...]orters carry off her Trunks, and what they contain; for he will be sure not to let her go abroad that day in her best Apparel, pre­tending the Business so urgent, that she must not stay to change. When she returns, and perceives what has happened, she is yet so credulous, that for some time she will not believe the People rela­ting to it, nor her own Eyes, but having waited long, and perceiving it too true, she bursts into Tears, wrings her hands, seeks up and down for him, but in vain; and then, which way to turn her she knows not, the growing Burthen of her Womb brings her Folly perpetually into Remembrance; and in this miserable State, ashamed to appear amongst her former acquaintance in London, if she be of a high Mind and proud Spirit, to hide her shame [Page 80]from the F [...]es of all that know her, she S [...]lls her self to the [...]; if not, she takes the Cou­rage to trudge it on foot, to be the first Relator of the unwelcom misfortune, to her Parents, and afflicts them as well as her self: who however to save her Credit, give out she is Married, but her Hus­band is gone an East India Voyage, or some such trivial Excuse; which some believe, and others are Left to their Liberty; yet they keep the Child, and she is sent up with a new Recruit to Service, upon Solemn Promise to be Wise, at the rate of such dear bought Experience; and in the end perhaps makes an honest poor Trades-man a Wife; who perhaps to his Lives end, knows no other than that he Mar­ried a pure Virgin. And here I may say, her luck turns again, though to no great advantage.

If he [...]inds some he would prey upon, too cunning to be catched in his Snare, viz. that they will come to no Terms without Marriage, if they are any thing Wealthy, he will condescend to that, but leave them in a little time. I knew one of these kind of Fellows, who was reported to have a D [...]zen Wives at one time alive, that he was lawfully Married to; besides many that he choused, under pretence of Courtship; and so lived at a tearing rate on their Spoils: And when any of them found him out, for he frequently Shifted, and threatened the Penalty of the Law, he would wheedle them into a Reconcilement; and use so many flattering Ar­guments, that he del [...]ded them rather into new Follies, than to revenge the great injury he had d [...]ne.

I shall conclude this Chapter with some Advice to Maidens, and that in matters of this nature. I wish them rather to be mistrustful than Credulous; Mistrust is the Sinew of Policy, for want of it many [Page 81]have been undone: know men well, before you let them into your Affections; not by seeing their Per­sons, but by a strict Enquiry where they were Edu­cated, who they are, and what their Conversation; Marriage, if it come to that, is a Business for Life, and one of the weightiest in Temporal matters. Consider then with what caution every one ought to [...] towards it, but especially to avoid the Company of such as make it their Business, insen­sibly to entangle easie fond Creatures, to no other end, than their own Advantage, and the others Ruin. I think I have laid down a sufficient num­ber of their crafty Tricks and Devices, to warn any reasonable Person, to be too forward in giving countenance to such Deceivers: And doubt not but the Judicious Reader will be bound to thank me for such a Discovery; and so prudent as to avoid the dangerous Rocks, whereon so many have Shipwrackt their Fame and Fortune.

CHAP. VII.

AS for the Tricks and Cheats that the foregoing Miscreants use in Gaming, especially when they draw in Young People to Cheat and Bubble them out of their Money, they are so many and va­rious, it would swell a large Volume to set them down in order; nor had I done it briefly, but to make good my Promise to the Reader.

If they set upon you with Cards, in the first place, in their Dealing, by the Reflection of a Po­lished Steel Tobaco-Box, or a drop of Wine or Wa­ter before them on the Board, unminded by you, they will so order it, that they will see the Cards they deal you, and so Play by your Hand; and if it is objected, they cannot see the Colour of the Spots this way, it is easie however, to know them by their form.

If the Pack passes but a few times about, they will mark all the Winning Cards, so to know them as the Game requires; securing in the Sleeve, a Muff that lyes before them, or Cocking a pinched-up Hat is a usual way; if all the Cards be not required to be out, some of these Sharpers have a Dog with them, that will bring Cards under the Table, de­livered him secretly by a Confedrate on the other side, and carry back what is given him by his Ma­ster: They have Signs and Watch-words, so often changed, that few understand them but themselves; Winking, Laughing, Drawing the Mouth to one side or other, Blowing the Nose, rubbing the Forehead, [Page 83]Drinking more or less, Snuffing a Candle at once or twice, with many more; makes the Confederates understand what they are to do. The highest Trump or other Winning-Card they usually secure in the Palm of the Hand, upon Dealing slide it under­most, or otherwise show it to their advantages. If at Put one give you two Treys and Ace, to dare you to be bold, or to Double Stakes, doubt not but your Antagonist has two Treys and a Duce, to bite your Head off, as in their Cant they phrase it. They of­ten put the Change upon you, if they find your Memory treacherous, in taking up the Cards; under pretence of seeing what was Played. They fail not to have the Winning Cards of another Pack about them, and where they see an Opportunity, make use of them; and as cunningly withdraw them again, upon the Shuffling.

False Dice they always carry about them, which they secure in their Hand often, with the Chance uppermost; though they seem to the unskilful Player to come out of the Box, and have an Art in Shaking, to rattle them as if they were really in; and when they have done Throwing, by slight of Hand, convey them away, and put the other to Throw with those they produce. Sometimes they have them with Quick-silver shut up in a hollow of the corner, or in the Center, as the Chance is to run; which will hit to those that know how to place them in throwing, but run cross to the Game­ster that knows nothing of it; with much more of the like Nature: But my Design being to disswade from Gaming, I shall no farther enlarge on the Cheats practised in it, but conclude with some Sound Advice.

To Play sometimes, to divert ones self; or en­tertain civil Company, is not so much to be disallow­ed; [Page 84]but to do it so often, as to be called a Game­ster, is to be avoided; for then it looks more like Business than a Recreation; for it hath Consequen­ces of several kinds, not to be endured. It will engage you into a habit of Idleness, and ill Hours, draw you unto ill mixed Company, make you ne [...] ­lect your Affairs abroad and at home.

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 so much, and what Means you have to bear it cut; and besides the Damage it does to your Credit, when it takes Air; if you could but see your Fa [...] upon an Ill Game, at a deep Stake, you would cer­tainly forswear any thing that could put your Looks under such a Disadvantage.