As for the next thing. The King's being under the necessity of a Parliament.

I know no necessity can be upon the King to call a Parliament but a Forein War and want of Money: As for a War, 'tis not likely (unless by the Moors upon Tangier) we have attempted to play the King at France, but they two will hardly meddle with one another; we have en­deavoured to make Spain break with us, but they are poor, the Dutch are cunning, so that his Majesty is secure in that point, As for want of Money, it is said and be­lieved that the King is now made a good Husband, and hath money in the Che­quer: if so; it will bring down the price of Membership: We had been better to have given him a million of money than to have suffer'd him ever to come to Think and grow cunning; for, if I ken him aright he hath Parts enough to govern a bigger Nation than this, if he can once endure the penance of Business and leave off to be afraid of meeting us at Westminster. And it is probable he never will be so again, since the Success of that Venture of Con­tempt upon us, in the amazing precipita­ted dissolution at Oxford; from which [Page 17]time I will be bold to date the sinking of Parliamentary Grandieut.

I guess who it was within one man or two who for interest & security thought it necessary that things should be put to some issue at Oxford, the City being em­bittered by the removal of us, and things carried so high as to force the King ei­ther to shew Fear and yield to terms; or Fury, and so act a severe part upon some Members, and by that give occasion to a Tumult in the City, which then cer­tainly was design'd.

Whereas you question the King's Inte­rest in the Countery, let me tell you, I per­ceive the Countrey cools apace, and he who deals with the Vulgar must do his business quickly, for seven hours sleep will make a Clown forget his design. It hath been no small advantage to the King that his Adversaries still act with more noise and tumult than he: and though noise and tumult does wonders while it continues, yet when it once sinks and grows calm, it is far more difficult to be usefull again. I take the Vulgar to be like a Race horse, when he is upon speed it is a mighty pace, but if in the course he be checked and comes to trot, it is very hard to make him gallop again.

If a Parliament must be summond, yet why at Oxford? Idle, Ill bread, Ignorant, Debauch'd, Popish Oxford?

You will wonder how I should come to be an Advocate for Oxford, who have railed at it for above forty years together, and perhaps upon better grounds than most men do.

I was entred there when the first great difficulties arose betwixt the old King and Parliament, and as much care was ta­ken as was usual in the choice of a Tu­tour: But as I came to understand there was a certain Master of Arts who was to be the next Tutour of course, and so the next Gentleman who entred was to be recommended to him in his turn, it hap­pened I was the man, who came with to­lerable Parts and Learning at the rate of a Gentleman; I had a great reverence for the Person that was to be my Guide, and a strong opinion to be made very wise.

It happened that my Tutour was a great Philosopher, which made me proud to hear of, expecting in some short time to be so too: He began at first gloriously with me, to magnifie the advantages of a good Education: How the greatest Con­ditions [Page 19]of Honour and Trust were supplied from the University: What a disgrace it was to the Nation, and what an injury to Government of Church and State, that when other Gountries, France, Poland, Scotland, &c. are studious to discipline their Nobility and Gentry into good Man­ners, Politicks and Religion, here eldest Sons are generally condemned to Hawks and Hounds, and Wisdom left the Patrimo­ny of younger Brothers onely, and Poor mens Sons; That the mutual lustre of a Diamond beset with Gold was a mean Comparison to Wisedom in the breast of such a man as I. This ravished my rustick modesty, and made me proud with the thoughts of what I should hereafter be. I out-waked the Bell, and scorned to be called to my Duty. I attended every mo­tion of his Eye for a Summons to Philo­sophy, and thought every minute an hour till I was entred into that course of study, which was to make me and all my Rela­tions happy. But alass! the same of his Parts and Learning had gained him Ac­quaintance whose company was dearer than mine; so that a Lecture now and then was a great Condescention (and I most days in the week, when others were care­fully looked after, left naked to infinite [Page 20]temptations of doing nothing, or worse; but God's Grace, the good Example of my Parents and a natural Love of Vertue, se­cured me so far as to leave Oxford (the troubles coming on) though not much more learned, yet not much worse than I came thither: I must in justice say in fa­vour of the University in general, that the growing disturbances in Church and State, and some Disputes in the Univer­sity, may well be supposed an unhappy occasion of slackening the Discipline there at that time.

But this infinite Disappointment did so afflict me, that when I came to have Children, I did almost swear them in their Childhood never to be friends with Ox­ford. This peevishness of mine was much increased by a Chaplain of my Sister's, who was made a Fellow of a College in the late times, and turned out upon the Restauration of the King. He sought oc­casions continually to rail at the Univer­sity for Ignorance, Debauchery and Irre­ligion, insomuch that I sent my eldest Son abroad, to try what improvement might be gained by travelling; at least to divert. I would willingly have sent him to the Inns of Court but that I had obser­ved for these last twenty years how the [Page 21]Gaiety and Frolick of the Court, and the great admiration of Wit, had softned the Souls of many excellent Persons into an aversion from Industry; who made themselves no otherwise considerable than for assisting at a Ball, and instead of ad­ding Wealth and Honour to a Family by advancement through the Law, impaired both; and which is most deplorable of all, at length came off poisoned with such a licentiousness of Manners, shameless Atheism, and heathenish promiscuous use of Women, that either Gentlemen could not persuade their eldest Sons to (the Confinement of) Marriage; or scarce find Ladies of Fortune and Quality which da­red to venture to have them for Hus­hands.

Nothing but such Reasons as these can justifie my venturing my eldest Son so early into the wide world: And I must confess that when he returned from be­yond Sea, I was pleased to see the ruff boyish humour filed a little, and shaped into much of a Man. I was infinitely delighted with the prospect of the Hap­piness I promised my self in the Conver­sation of an Heir who brought home the same Innocence of Inclinations he carried, and by staring about France and Italy, had [Page 22]furnished himself with a Complaisance very acc [...]ptable where ever he came.

But you must pardon two qualities he had contracted. 1. An humour of mag­nifying things abroad in comparison with his own Countrey. 2. A stateliness of behaviour, and contempt of mean Ac­quaintance. The last of these I did not much discourage, finding him Just and Gharitable. For I have often seen young Gentlemen guarded from low and base Actions and Company by generosity of Spirit. And how many men do you and I know, loose enough (God help them) from the Bigotry of Conscience, and yet upon the bare Religion of Honour, rather than disgrace a worthy Family, misbecome a Character, or faile the opinion of the World, do as much scorn a base Action, will be as true to their Word, when they might gain by Lying; as far from chea­ting a Widow, Minister, or Orphan, who cannot contend, or do any ungenteele thing, as that man who thinks the world to come worth twenty of these.

But (Nephew) you are Rich and Great, and therefore I must have a care you do not mistake me, when I say I would have my eldest Son a little Stately: I do not mean any degree of that gross imperious [Page 23]Pride which God and Men bates: That first-born Monster of Selfishness, and ill­natur'd Complexion of the Devil; Poi­son'd and puff'd up with Envy of what Equals and Betters enjoy; which makes a man think all the World made for his single Lust and Preasure: Overlook Man­kind, Rebell against Superiours, Mal [...]tious to Equals, Frants to inferiours Merciless to the Offencour, Cruel to the Needy and False to the Hireling: Kind only to Sy­c [...]phants, and Friend to None; Walk, Spread and Swell like the mighity build­er of Babylon when he was turning Brute.

And not only the Vileness of the Sin makes the Proud Man as sure to be hated in this World as he is to be Damn'd in the next; but the Proud Man is a greater Fool than I beleive he thinks himself: For he loseth what he mainly aims at, instead of being Honour'd and Esteem'd, he makes himself the most Contemptible thing alive. For he is discovered by all his Words, Actions and Designs, even when he countersits Humility end Obligingness: oh how 'tis overdone, strain'd and formal. It was always thought a great measure of Folly to be able to be Flattered, and of all men living if you meet with a Proud Man, you have him at your mercy; It is [Page 24]but to magnifie his Ancient Family, tho­perhaps his Great Grandfather could not Write and Read; The Splendour of his Living, when perhaps the hired Livery­men dare not drink once in a month in his House: His Wit, when perhaps it is most shewn by holding his tongue, &c. do but all this and keep your Counte­nance, ask what you will he never denies the man that understands Worth. And you must be sure also to sune your crin­ging Muscles by a French Fiddle, Shrugg, and make your honour punctualy, you may lead the great Thing to and fro as if he had a Ring in his Nose.

But to come to my Son again. It quick­ly appeared how sad is the condition of a Gentleman without Learning. For wan­ting some ingenuous Diversion to fill the deal of void time young Gentlemen have in the Countrey, and being ashamed to be still obliged to Silence in all discourses of Learning and State, for want of more Knowledge; he fell into such an immode­rate love of Sports that he was never well but when he was managing or talking of his Dogs: and in a little time became fit company for nothing else: Debauched, and wholly useless to King & Country, and his Family, and if I had not been alive to [Page 25]to secure the Estate, he prov'd as likely to have made a Gentleman of his Stew­ard as any Man in England.

I know I am blam'd (but my Wife must bear her share) for breeding him up at a mean School: For she pretending the danger in great Schools of growing a Man too soon, and learning ill Tricks (but in Truth, because this place was near, and she could see him, and hear from him often) would hear of no other Master.

And really the Countrey Gentlemen are somewhat hardly dealt withal in this point: For sometimes very mean Persons are licensed to ruine our Children, to the great Prejudice of Church and State; a School-master being the best or worst Sub­ject in the Nation: not but that we have now as many worthy School-masters as ever; but one Ignorant one doth mischief enough.

The Parliament hath used all the Pru­dent Caution imaginable, by referring that Affair to the Inspection of the Ordi­nary: It cannot be objected, that we do not give encouragement enough to maintain fit Persons; for I am bold to say, no Gen­tleman is so weak, as not Plentifully to gra­tifie that Person, who is to contribute to the Prosperity of a whole Family, by spen­ding [Page 26]all his Thoughts, Pains, and Time in studying the various Tempers and Inclina­tions of Youth as he must do, if he will be just to our Expectations.

But very Mean was that Person to whom I sent my Son, upon my Wife's Im­portunity.

And perhaps, hereafter you may find it a very hard matter, not to be guided by a Wife in the breeding your Children. For that Fondness, which is a just debt from all to a Wife, and is in some by Nature ex­cessive, if she be cunning enough to hu­mor it well with a few Tears or a pre­tended Fit, will melt your sweet Dispo­sition. Mistake me not, I speak this on­ly by way of Caution, that when you Mar­ry and grow fond, you may manage your uxoriousness more warily than I have done, for your own Credit, and the good of your Children.

I do not speak this to discourage Marri­age. For I will sincerely aver, that where the choice of Quality, Temper, and Fortune, is tolerably Prudent, there is a great deal more Happiness than in a discontented, loose, unsatisfied single Life, unless to those Persons whose Callings oblige them to a continual Thoughtfulness and moderation of Diet.

I cannot but speak upon this Subject with a great Concern; For, I believe, if I had Married my Son immediately after his return from Travel, while he was a stranger to bad Company, and the Vices in fashion, I might have prevented his Ex­travagances, and fixed the Mercury. But afterwards, too late, when I had provided an agreeable Match, his Comrades had in­stilled into him such an Aversion, and taught him to rail at Matrimony in the Language of the Stews, that the design of Happi­ness to my Family, was utterly descated: And once, I remember, full of Grief, up­on that Account, I was visited by a Friend, who condoled the mischief of such Evil Principles, and the sinful Consequences of them. And, the better to relieve the Bur­then I was oppressed with, and prate some of my Thoughtfulness away; I ask'd him, what he conceived were the Occasions of the present great Contempt of Matrimony. He smiled, and told me, that he had no great skill in the business of Matrimony, but the Contempt of it, he thought, arose,

1. From the Influence the Devil hath upon the wild Libertinism of Nature, for want of the fear of God, Gen. 20.11. and our cross-grain'd Appetite, still to the For­bidden Fruit.

2. The frequency of leud Examples, which have baffled the Courage of Eccle­siastical Censure.

3. The popular notion of Matrimony being a slavish confinement: It is voluntary, and therefore the less to be complain'd of, and sometimes it proves better to have bu­siness to do than to be Idle; An Hunts­man, no doubt, if he should see a Shop-Keeper walking all the day long in a little Room, would think it a damnable Confine­ment, and the other Man makes it his Hap­piness.

4. The Women Govern: The Wiser they: But I fansie that the Women never govern where the Man hath Wit enough to do it himself; and I hope you would not have Government dye?

5. False notions of the Instances and Allowances in the Old Testament.

6. Some peevish Expressions against Marriage, in the good Old Primitive Fa­thers, not to say any thing of Modern Wri­ters.

7. The barbarous forcing Matches upon Children, without their own Consent; and sad consequences of that.

8. The everlasting Din of Mother-in-law.

9. The hard usage of the first Brood, if they Marry again.

10. The Railery of such who either voluntarily undertake Coelibacy, or whose Condition of Life obligeth them to it.

11. The easie Cure of the French Com­plement; otherwise the sense of Honour, and care of Health would make many a Gentleman like his Own Lodging.

There are many other Reasons of the contempt of Matrimony, which you may find in the Lady's Calling, and in another Waggish Book, which I dare not name for fear of displeasing an excellent Mistress I have in the World, and because, I hope, he wrongs new Married Ladies. These, Nephew, we both agreed, were the com­mon Occasions of that Contempt, under which Matrimony now labours, to the great inconvenience of the Nation by Im­mortality, to Families for want of Heirs, and good young Ladies for want of Hus­bands.

This I thought fit to Write to you; for whom we have provided an admirable March, a Lady of all the good Qualities I would desire, if I were of your Age. She is very Beautiful, and not Proud; She is Well. shap'd, and not Stiff; She is Witty, and not Impertinent; She is Fami­liar, but not Fond; Good-natur'd but not Easic.; Rich, but not Imperious; Young, [Page 30]but not Foolish; Religious, but not Fanta­stical: She wants but one good Chara­cter more, that is, being Your Wife. And, I hope, we shall not find you so difficult to the wishes of your best Friends, as my ungovernable Son, my incurable Son hath prov'd, utterly undone for want of Edu­cation.

But (God be thanked) a better In­struction fell to your share: And though I was against your going to Oxford, yet the little Time you spent there, was to so good purpose, that I am sorry for the Oc­casion of your not continuing longer, (which, I perceive, you will never forgive the University.) But now it may be ho­ped, that you are of Age to consider, that Conscience and Care could not but oblige the Head of your House and Tutor, to send home the first Alarm of Danger, when a Person of so great Hopes and For­tune, out of Youth and Goodness of Dis­position, was like to become a Prey. Sure I am, the sense of Vertue and Reli­gion, and industrious Inclinations you brought thence, deserves Thanks, which my Son wanted Thanks to a foolish Father and Mother.

Well, whether I or my Wife were most Guilty, it is now only matter of Repen­tance; [Page 31]But our School-Master (as appeared) by reason of Ignorance, was never able to proceed to a Degree in the University, and set up his Staff for a Livelihood, which fell toward a Country-School. He riggs himself out with a new Suit, broad Hat, and Silver headed Staff, and being secure from all Censure in point of Learning, his business with us was on­ly to counterfeit a wise and a good man, the first he gained the esteem of by an affect­ed Gravity, and a wary Silence in Compa­ny; the second he was secure of in our Country, by acting an extraordinary Preciseness and disgusting the imposed use of Ceremonies, confounding the Order of Bishop and Presbyter, magnifying the Advantages of a Common-wealth, rai­ling at the Bishops Courts, and pitying the Hardships of taking Oaths, and being forced to Church. And having Wit e­nough to cringe to every Person, and com­ply with his Betters in all Discourse with­out the least Contradiction, he gain'd the Character of an humble and meek Man. So that now Employment quickly came on, and happy was the Gentleman who could welcome this great Gamaliel with the first tender of his Respect, that is, the Sacrifice of an Eldest Son.

Being settled in his Dominion, lest the forementioned humility and want of Learning (which Children are apt to smell out) should end in Contempt. He puts on a great self-conceit, ruffles amongst the trembling Boys with a Fantastical Imperi­ousness, and procures the name of a strict and careful Man by a partial Cruelty to poor Mens Children, for he knew Mothers had somewhat as soveraign as Crabs-Eyes to sweeten the Choler, lest the dear­ly beloved Eldest Son should come to a mischance.

For a long time I stood by and look'd on, but my Wife did so hale and pu'l me to send my Child to so near a School, that I saw no hopes of Peace, till I com­plied; I had the Flattery of several Years, of the Dutifulness and Proficiency of my Son, which my Wife never doubted of; seeing her Son kept sweet, neat in Cloaths, and Sheepish (which she called Good-Man­ners.) This Sheepishness, or over Bashful­ness of his, I was troubled at, and endea­voured to mend, because of an Accident which I knew had befallen a young Gen­tleman my Neighbour: He was a gen­teel Youth, very fine in Parts and Dispo­fition; his Mother was sensible of this, and fond enough; and so jealous of every [Page 33]Action, imperious and rigid to an hair's breadth of Duty, loud and noisy at every small miscarriage, (and sometimes at none.) This made the near Youth dread the place where-ever his Mother was: ti­morously perform every Duty for fear of being chidden, and at last so far dispiri­ted, that when he grew up, and for Age and Knowledge was thought fit to be courted by the best sort of Acquaintance, he was quite over-grown with that Curb of just and publick Actions call'd Infirmi­tas frontis; he would behave himself so diffidently, that sense and words would fail him; and if his Mother came into the Room he was presently struck dumb.

Another Youth (exactly such) I knew whose Schoolmaster was rough and hasty, so that whenever he came into the School the gentle Boy trembled, his heart con­stantly aked for fear, and at last contrac­ted such an incurable Hectick as destroy­ed him.

These two Instances give me an una­voidable occasion of recommending the Practice of the School-master I was bred up under: He was a plain man, skill'd in his Profession, industrious and unde­signing H [...]s way was this; First to sift the Temper of every Youth; if he [Page 34]found a Boy ruggish and untractable, quick­ly to ease himself of the uncomfortable duty of Severity: But if they were tract­able and easie, what ever were their Parts or Learning, to make the best of both, encourage the Children with Civility and Kindness: He knew there was a Generosity in Gentlemen, and that what Imperious­ness could not do, Courtesie might, and out of Gratitude, and a sense of Love and Care, he found better success than if he had affrighted them into Duty.

Well, when my Boy grew toward a Man, I took him away, and upon Exa­mination, I found that he had sent me home nothing but the very shell of a Gentleman, spruce indeed in Habit, hand­some and well natur'd, but infinitely void of all Knowledge, either of Words or Things. It is true, I got him turn'd out; but in the mean time, my hopes were lost, so that it became no small Concern of mine to take better Care for the second Son, who had smarted for a better share of Learning somewhat than his Brother, at a greater School. Him therefore I was resolved not to condemn (as Gentlemen phrase it) but to prefer to a Profession. But what Course to take, I was at a loss. Cambridge was so far off, I could not [Page 35]have an Eye upon him, Oxford I was an­gry with.

There was in the Neighbour-hood an old grave Learned Divine (a rigid Church­man) and therefore thought me not Zea­lous enough: but yet the great Integrity and Simplicity of this Life, and the Inof­fensiveness of a free converse in matters of Indifferency, was Reason enough to me of standing by his Judgment in this great Confusion of mine own Thoughts.

I desired his advice in the choice of a Profession, for I thought the Gentry and Nobility of this Nation, the most mista­ken Men alive.

First, for breeding the Elder and Young­er Sons at one common Idle rate, as if both were to Inherit equally, so that afterwards when they grow Men, and a Distinction must of necessity be made, it always breeds ill Blood, and sometimes proves dangerous.

Secondly, For thinking it somewhat beneath Persons of Quality to gain a Live­lihood by the industry of a Profession, such as a Child's inclination points to.

Physick we both did own to be in the speculation very pleasant, and in the Pra­ctice gainful; but forasmuch as Eminency in that Study requires a more than ordi­nary [Page 36]Knowledg in many sorts of Learning, and is so full of Care and Hardship, we left that to such who were furnished with more Learning, and invited by a strong natural Propensity thereunto.

Civil Law, was then proposed as a gen­teel sort of Study, but when I conside­red into how few hands the Gains of that Profession falls, and how few Offices of Preferment there are; I laid aside all thoughts of that Learning, though most Honourable of any next to Divinity.

My Neighbour spake well and largely of Divinity; and such was the honesty and clearness of his Humour, that he franckly told me, that, [...] not favouring Episcopacy much, would hardly encourage a Son to be a Divine: I was not angry with his un­designing plainness, but grievously afflicted not to be more truly known to him; and with some kind of trouble in Spirit, I made him my Confessor. I told him,

That it did please God, out of a Sense of human Infirmity, I was naturally of a disposition prone to great Pity and Com­passion to such as were Poor, most of all to such as I saw Honest in their Morals, and, as I thought, sincere in Religion. And that once (out of Curiosity) I went to a notorious Meeting, upon the fame of an [Page 37]extraordinary gifted Preacher. I would, I confess, willingly, being a Member of that Parliament (which made the Act of Uniformity) have contracted my self, and not have been known to appear so much in opposition to it, but that could not be; and yet I was resolved to see what matter of moment there was, to encourage my fa­vouring of Dissenters, being Born of Pa­rents, who paid dear for their Loyalty in the late times.

When the Meeters had given me the invidious unacceptable deference of Place, up springs a Man with a briskness of Look, fit to have domineer'd in the best Audito­ry in England. He throws his gaping Eyes about upon the numerous throng. He had no sooner named his Text, but about the Leaves and the blew Strings of the Dutch Bible flew, happy was the man whospit up­on his Thumb, and first found the Chapter.

He began (I suppose upon a mistake of his Auditory) with Address, Language, Rhetorick, and thought as if he had been an Angel; and I never in all my Life time prepared my self so much for attention; no not in the House of Commons: But he Correcting himself, descended to such a lamentable meanness of Looks, W [...], and Thoughts, a plainly affected Wink, [Page 38]Shrugg and Whine, that I was altogether as much Ashamed to be a Witness of what the Women sigh'd at and admir'd: And coming home to my Lodging, sent to speak one Word with the Preacher, who enquiring what I was; and understanding me a Member of Parliament, shifted his Lodgings.

This afterwards, I complained of in the House of Commons, freely confessing my Curiosity, and excusing the same by the Design I had in it. But I perceived that some of the most clamorous Members, a­gainst Conventicles, laughed at the Story, and found out business of another kind to stop any reflection upon the Circumstan­ces I related, from which time I began to be jealous of Conventicles, which before I pittied.

I went on, and told him farther, that I thought, if at the Restauration, some things had been left out of the Liturgy; and o­thers added, it might perhaps have bated many exoeptions which are now made, but never in my Life thought an Alteration of it afterwards safe for the Kingdom.

That I go to Church with as much Af­fection as any Man breathing, admire the simple, full, and significant style of the Li­turgy, and the distinction of short Col­lects [Page 39]as an ease to tyred Devotion; Pic­tures in Churches and frequent bowings I never was fond of, but as a Gentleman of breeding, where-ever I saw others bow, I did so too, thinking singularity stiff and ungenteel.

And as for change of the Monarchy into a Common-wealth, I scarce ever heard, I am sure never endured, any Discourse tending that way. Alas! I remember the Protectorship of a fortunate Officer, and the Tyranny of Major-Generals: and were not I fit to be begged for a Madman or a Fool, if I should encourage a Tumult wherein 'tis Cross and Pile but some Var­let or other whom I have laid by the Heels for tearing Hedges, shall-swagger at the head of twenty men worse than he, rob my Study, fire my House, ravish my Children, and cut my Throat.

Let the faults of Governours (said I) and Government be what they will, it is much safer to bear these faults than to venture a Change: which I consess many an innocent undesigning man may contri­bute to accidentally, but on purpose and studiously, none but such as either dis­gorged King and Church Lands at the Restauration, or such as fail'd in expecta­tion of great Places, or were dispossessed [Page 40]from them, or such whose Vices have consumed a large Patrimony, and disgra­ced an ancient Family, shall attempt a Reparation from King or Church: all which I and my Ancestours have ever abhorred; and now said I, Sir, with the great freedom you began, pray tell me what I am sick of, that the best Church­men should bid such a man as I stand off, and cry unclean, unclean.

Upon this the honest man replied, that I was a better Church of England man that himself: And yet notwithstanding all this I was resolved against making my Son a Divine, though for reasons not to the discredit but to the honour of the Church.

I look on it (said I) as an incompa­rable advantage of that Profession to have for its single especial Calling what is the concern of all mankind, namely, the study of the knowledge of our duty toward God and Man: from which all other Professions, some more, some less, afford great Avocations and incredible Hinde­rances. Nay, if temporal advantages were a man's design, a Child could not be pla­ced in more probable circumstances (ha­ving Friends to lend a helping hand) of an early plentiful fortune than holy Or­ders. [Page 41]And having mentioned the Tem­poral Advantages of the Clergy, I cannot forbear on this occasion giving you, Ne­phew, my advice concerning the disposal of your great Living of C. which I am told is likely to be void by the death of the Doctor who is now past all hopes of Recovery. You must expect infinite so­licitations when so great a preferment falls; and if you have any value for one who resolves to spend all his wisdome upon you, let me beg you to act like an En­glish Gentleman: it is reported that Ma­ster H. your Bailiff hath a Kinsman very fit to be recommended: Others say that your Mother's Nurse's Daughter knows a man very deserving; and some report that his Grace the D. of—intends to oblige you by giving you this fair occasi­on of owning the favour of his Grace's condescension to be acquainted with you, by making his Friend Rectour of 500li. a year. Come, come, act like a man who understand and deserves the true name of Patron, that is wisely dispose the Living, and then Protect the Minister in his Rights and Privileges, neither wrong him your self, nor suffer other to doe it: Do not hamper him and call him un­gratefull fellow if he refuse to compound [Page 42]for twenty per Cent. Perhaps while you are warm with Pride and Prosperity, Re­pentance may look Cowardly, and Resti­tution Ungenteel. Acts of Injustice may go down easily, but they will rattle in your Throat when you come to Die. You are secure from my Begging, for my Son shall not be a Divine; For in Truth, the Know­ledge real or Pretended of Scripture and Divinity which the Wise sort of all Pro­fessions now pretend to, and the great Con­troversies and variety of Opinions which of late have been set on foot; Make it absolutely necessary, for a Divine to be furnished with deeper Learning than or­dinary, and the want of strictness in the Education of a Son of a great Family; will render the Confinement in that Severe Profession irksom to such a Youth as mine, and without which he can never adorn his Function.

At last, I plainly owned, that the Com­mon Law was my design, having obser­ved, that critical Learning was not requi­red, and I desired my Neighbour's Opini­on and Direction hereunto. He did Con­fess,

That he thought it a Study so Laudable, that he would willingly have spent some time in it himself, but that the loss of so [Page 43]much time must needs have intrench'd upon his proper Calling.

He look'd upon each great Lawyer ca­pable of signal Service to the State, and in­finite Acts of Charity to private Persons; and that it must be impossible twenty Years hence, for a good Lawyer to want Preferment. But he offered many things to be considered before the Law was to be attempted.

1. Whether my Son had Strength of Constitution, to undergo the Drudgery of six or seven Years close Study.

2. Whether living in an University as a Gentleman at large, without close confine­ment, would not habituate him to Lazi­ness, greater than that Study is consistent with.

3. Great care must be taken, to give him sound Notions of Justice and Cha­rity. Because, though neither the Law nor any other Profession brings any neces­sity on a Man, or irresistible Temptations to be injurious, yet in all Professions there are some, and in the Law, from the shew of Parts, being able to carry a doubtfull Cause: And I verily believe (said he) that many a good Man at the hour of Death, doth repent of having served the interest of an ill Suit, notwithstanding [Page 44]the excuse of being obliged by the Calling to speak, having received his Fee. After all this, if I did stand it out in favour of the Law, then Logick, for a year or two in some University would be usefull, be­cause frequent formal disputation makes a Youth more attentive to a Discourse, and more quickly apprehensive of a false or weak Reasoning.

And when I Objected my Prejudice against Oxford, from my own experience formerly, and from the Suggestions of my Sister's Chaplain, just before and after the King came in: the first, he could not an­swer for, the latter, he confessed in part was true, at the time it points out.

For of all places, the University being fast to the Monarchy, suffering most, and being most weary of the Usurpation, when Oliver was Dead, and Richard Dis­mounted, they saw through a maze of Changes, that in little time the Nation would be fond of that Government, which twenty years before they hated. The hopes of this made the Scholars talk aloud, drink Healths, and Curse Meroz in the very Streets: Insomuch that when the King came in, nay, when the King was but Voted in, they were not onely like them that Dream, but like them who [Page 45]are out of their Wits, Mad, stark staring Mad; to Study was Fanaticism, to be Mo­derate was down-right Rebellion, and thus it continued for a Twelve-Month, and thus it would have continued till this time, if it had not pleased God to raise up some Vice-Chancellors, who stemmed the Torrent which carried so much filth with it, and in defiance of the Loyal Zeal of the Learned, the Drunken Zeal of Dun­ces, and the great Amazement of Young Gentlemen, who really knew not what they would have, but yet made the grea­test noise, reduced the University to that temperament, that a Man might Study and not be thought a Du [...]ard; might be Sober, and yet a Conformist; a Scholar, and yet a Church of England Man; and from that time the University became Sober, Mo­dest, and Studious, as perhaps any Uni­versity in Europe.

And, if after all this, I thought well of an University, he advised me not to avoid this or that House, because a Vicious De­bauch'd Person came thence, not to be fond of an House because I my self was of it, or because the Head thereof was a Fam'd Man: These, said he, many times prove very fallacious Measures: The on­ly sure Method to proceed by was the [Page 46]known Integrity and Prudence of a Tutor, who would improve him if he were regu­lar, if not, would certainly tell me it. Such an one he told me he knew, and would write unto.

Now, full of Instruction, I was not long in getting on Horse-back, but an un­happy accident at Oxford had almost spoil'd all: For at ten of the Clock, in the Inn, there was such a Roaring and Singing that my Hair stood an end, and my former Pre­judices were so heightned, that I resolved to lose the Journey, and carry back my Son again, presuming, that no noise in Oxford could be made but Scholars must do it: But the Proctour coming thither, and sending two young pert Towns­men to the Prison for the Riot, relieved my fears; and quickly came to my Cham­ber, and perceiving my Boy designed for a Gown, told me that it was for the pre­servation of such fine Youths as he, that the Proctours made so bold with Gentlemens Lodgings. He was a Man of Presence and suitable Address, and upon my request sat down; I told him I was glad to see Authority discountenance the publick Hou­ses, because it is an incredible scandal the University labours under, from the ac­count that Countrey Gentlemen (who [Page 47]come and Lodge in Oxford) give of Rant­ing in Inns and Taverns, as if there was no sleeping in that Town for Scholars: He civily reply'd, that things might be better, but he thanked God they were no worse; that Scholars did often bear the blame of Countrey Gentlemen and the Towns­mens guilt, and that absolutely to keep Young Men from publick Houses was im­possible, but by Parents injunction to their Children, by Tutors observing the Con­versation of their Pupils, and every Head of an House commanding home in time all the Junior part at least of their Socie­ties.

As for the Prejudices we suffer under in the Country, he said there were many reasons of that: The constant Declamati­ons against us of those intruding Members, who were turned out again in 60, the Hatred all Enemies of King and Church shew against us for being presumed Par­ties, and the Envy the Gentry bear us up­on a false supposition of our Ease, Luxury, and Prosperity: To which, we our selves (said he) do foolishly contribute by trea­ting Friends in our Chambers, as splendid­ly as if we were worth thousands, when perhaps half a Fellowship would not pay for two such Dinners, as are made upon a [Page 48]slight occasion. And of all Men Living, the Gentry ought not to be against us, or envy our moderate Fortunes, whose whole Employment is taking up in serving them, by Breeding their Sons here, and Serving their Cures hereafter. Perhaps it will be said the Sons of some of them Miscarry: It is great Pity any one should, but I am sure that Person ought to vindicate us, whose Son goes off Vertuously Bred: they do not know the Care is taken to secure their Children, and make them happy. I could willingly have heard him longer, but that he was to go his Rounds: It was pleasant to see how my Son trembled, to see the Proctour come in, without knocking at his Father's Chamber-door.

The next Morning, I carried my Neigh­bour's Letter to the Tutor, who express'd a just deference to the Hand, but did not seem fond of the Employment. I thought to have found him mightily Pleased with the Opinion we had of his Conduct, and the Credit of having a Gentleman's Son under his Charge, and the Father with his Cap in Hand: Instead of all this, he Tal­ked at a rate, as if the Gentry were Obli­ged to Tutours, more than Tutours to them. And when I asked him whether he thought me a Man who did not know [Page 49]how to be grateful? No, said he, (with somewhat of sharpness) I never met with a Gentleman backward in that in my life; and to tell you a great Truth, if I were of a craving Temper, I would not take half the care I do. For many Mothers (I would say Fathers too, were it not for shame) are so Wise as to think that Man much more accomplished for a Tutor, who can Cringe solemnly, Tattle in their way, lead them handsomely over a Gut­ter, and kiss their Hands with a good grace, than a Man of less Fashion and Ceremony; who instead of flattering Parents, and hu­mouring the Son, sets carefully to work, and lets the Youth know what he comes up for. Though, in the mean time, I do not think Clownishness a Vertue, but plain Dealing was always thought so: And some Parents have not Wit enough to di­stinguish these Two, especially when they are a little Proudish: As for Ingratitude in Gentlemen, I never had any reason to complain; nay, I have often refused Pre­sents, when I thought my Pains over-valu­ed, though I believe (generally) an ho­nest Tutor sells his Hours cheaper than the Fencer or Dancing-Master will. That which I value, is the great success and sa­tisfaction I have had in the towardliness [Page 50]and proficiency of a great many Young Gentlemen, who, at this day, do the Uni­versity Credit, and the places where they live Good, by their excellent Example: But, to be in earnest, the Care is Infinite, and the Fear they should Miscarry is very Afflicting: And yet, after all this, if the Divine you came from, told you, That he thought I would undertake your Son for his sake, then I must do it; and your Son shall know, before your own Face, what he must trust to. I do not see any lines of Disobedience in his Countenance. But I must desire you to lay your Com­mands upon him.

1. That he observe the Duties of the House, for Prayers, Exercise, &c. as if he were the Son of a Beggar: for when a young Boy is plumed up with a new Suit, he is apt to fansie himself a fine Thing: Because he hath a penny Commors more than the rest, therefore he ought to be abated a penny-worth of Duty, Learning, and Wisdom. Whereas the Gentlemen in the University ought to do more Ex­ereise than others, for they stay but little Time there, and ought to be accomplish'd in haste, because their Quality, and the National Concern make them Men apace. And truly, if Men may be heard in their [Page 51]own Cause, the Gentry are too severe in condemning the Universities for not sen­ding home their Sons furnish'd with E­thicks, Politicks, Rhetorick, History, the ne­cessary Learning of a Gentleman, Logick and Philosophy, &c. and other useful Parts; when they send up their Sons for Two, perhaps Three Years only, and suffer them to trifle away half that time too: It is an ungrateful task to the Tutor always to be Chiding, the Father must command greater Strictness; otherwise, when the Young Man, who hath been long in Du­rance, and here finds his Shackles knocked off, and the Gate wide open, he will Ramble everlastingly, and make it work more than enough for us to keep him Sober: whereas, if they will take care that he be furnish'd early at School with Latin, come up hither young and pliable, stay here and study hard for Five Years, then if he prove not able to do the King and his Country Service, I am content it should be our Fault.

2. That he writes no Letter to come home for the first whole Year. It is a com­mon, and a very great inconvenience, that soon after a young Gentleman is settled, and but beginning to begin to Study; we have a tedious ill-spell'd Letter from a [Page 52]dear Sister, who languishes and longs to see him as much, almost, as she doth for a Husband: and this, together with rising to Prayers at Six a Clock in the Morning, softens the lazy Youth into a fond desire of seeing them too: Then all on the sud­den up Posts the Livery-Man, and the led Horse, enquires for the Colledge where the young Squire lives, finds my young Master with his Boots and Spurs on be­fore-hand, quarrelling with the Man for not coming sooner. The next news of him is at home, within a day or two he is In­vited to a Hunting Match, and the Sickly Youth, who was scarce able to rise to Prayers, can now rise at Four of the Clock to a Fox-chase, then must he be treated at an Ale-House, with a Rump of Beef, Se­ven Miles from home, hear an Uncle, Cousin, or Neighbour Rant and Swear; and after such a sort of Education for six or eight Weeks, full of Tears and Melan­choly, the sad Soul returns to Oxford: his Brains have been so shogged, he cannot think in a Fortnight: And after all this, if the young man prove Debauch'd, the U­niversity must be blam'd. And, Sir, if you can bear a Truth, I hope you are not concerned in; the first Question the Tu­tor should ask, is, in what kind of Family [Page 53]and in what manner the Child hath been bred up before he comes to us. For, where Parents give good Examples them­selves, and keep good Order in a Family, the Ʋniversity Business is half done to our hands: But if he shall come out of a Sty or a Den, see his own Father carried up three times a Week to Bed; hear nothing but Oaths and ill Language from Ser­vants, &c. it must needs Vitiate the Vir­gin Soul; he comes up Diseased, and it will require very skilful Application to correct an Error in that first Concoction.

3. That he frequent not Publick Places, such as are Bowling-Green, Racket-Court, &c. for, beside the danger of firing his Blood by a Fever, heightning Passion into Cursing and Swearing, he must unavoidably grow acquainted with Pro­miscuous Company, whether they are, or are not Vertuous. Nay, were his new Ac­quaintance all very good, and of the strict­est House, the certainty of making him Idle, by receiving and paying Treats and Visits is dangerous. I have seen two sorts of Liquor, each of them cold when they were singly touched, but when they were put together, they flamed with such a de­gree of Heat as melted the Glass they were in. Besides this, all young Gentle­men [Page 54]are not sent to the University with the same design with your Son; I know a very Honest, Lusty Countrey Gentleman of four or five Thousand a Year, who sent his Heir to the University, meerly for Cre­dit's sake; and wisely bid him spend what he would (which the Youth dutifully Obeyed), required no more of his Tutor than to keep him from knocking his Head against a Sign-post, and dirting his silken Stockings at Nine of the Clock: do you think such a Man fit Company for your Son, whom you design to be Lord Kee­per?

4. Be sure that he discharge all Dues Quarterly, and not learn to run into Debt, this will make him gain Credit and Buy Cheaper. Whatever he saves of your Al­lowance, let it be his own gain, perhaps that may teach him Thrift, and if I were fit to be your Tutor, I would advise you to double it: for Prodigality is a little more catching than Niggardliness with Young Gentlemen. I know a Person in the World who lived with as much Credit in Oxford as any Man, always Genteel in Habit, and where Entertainments were, becom­ing always Generous; and yet carried away with him a good Sum of Money, sa­ved out of his Father's Allowance, and if [Page 55]he would give me leave, I would propose him as an Example to the Gentry of the University.

5. What ever Letters of Complaints he writes home, I desire you to send me a Copy: for ill-natur'd untoward Boys, when they find Discipline sit hard upon them, they then will learn to Lye, Com­plain and Rail against the University, the Colledge, and the Tutor, and with a whi­ning Letter, make the Mother, make the Father believe all that he can invent, when all this while his main design is to leave the University, and go home again to spanning Farthings.

6. I understand, by one of your Daugh­ters, that you have brought him up a fine Padd to keep here for his Health's sake, now I will tell you the use of an Horse in Oxford, and then do as you think fit. The Horse must be kept at an Ale-House or an Inn, and he must have leave to go once every day to see him eat Oats, because the Master's Eye makes him Fat: and it will not be Genteel to go often to an House and spend nothing; and then there may be some danger of the Horse grow­ing resty, if he be not used often, so that you must give him leave to go to Abingdon once every Week to look out of the Ta­vern [Page 56]Window, and see the Maids sell Turnips: and in one Month or two come home with a surfeit of Poysoned Wine, and save any farther charges by dying: and then you will be troubled to send for your Horse again: This was the unhappi­ness of a delicate Youth, whose great misfortune it was to be worth Two Thousand a Year before he was One and Twenty.

7. That he go constantly to the Ʋni­versity Church on Sundays.

Before I came to be a Tutor, curiosi­ty and a natural share of Thoughtfulness made me observe the Tempers of the Youth of the University, such as either Necessity or Accident had brought me ac­quainted with: and I found one too com­mon an humour, which from the begin­ning, I did Lament, foreseeing, even then, a very unhappy consequence of it. You should see young Gentlemen mighty for­ward to hasten to St. Mary's, and happy the Man who could get the foremost place in the Gallery: but if the Preacher, who came up, did not please, either with his Looks, his Voice, his Text, or any Whimsey else, immediately a great bustling to get out; Neighbours of each side disturbed to make the Gentleman room: (who some­times [Page 57]drags half a score along with him) especially if he had a pointed Band, and a silk Suit, and kept a Brace of Geldings; Well, when they had Fought their way out into the Streets, they were for ven­turing their Fortunes at another Church; but there the Minister was practical, dull, and plain, and being uncertain what to doe, it being not yet Dinner time, they resolved to stumble in at one holy Thre­shold more, and what with staring about on the Auditors, talking aloud of, and censuring the Preacher, they made a hard shift to hold out till the little greezy Bells began to Ring to Veal and Mutton, and then by the modest admonition of going our, put the Minister in mind of being Civil to the rest of the Hearers. Coming Home, they talk as big as Bull-Beef of each Man they Heard: Though if you ask the very Text, (Alas!) He Talked so low they could not remember that.

At last, I perceived that this Ambulatory Roving carelessness of Humour, begat an indifferency of going to any Church at all: And so prepared the young Gentry, when they should come to be let loose into the wide World, to be no great opposers of Atheism.

This was unhappily contributed to, by the Disputes concerning the Sabbath: Some contending for a very Jewish observation; Others, disproving it's Morality, both brought contempt upon that Day, and ac­cidentally upon Religion it self: As did also the Levelling Churches with Stables, and making the Inward Worship of God, oppose the Outward

For whosoever knows the great Lazi­ness and Supidity of the Vulgar, need not be told that Religion is kept up by the di­stinction of the Lord's-day from other days; and if the Plough were stopp'd, a long Sermon Preach'd, and a Psalm or two Sung, Religion, Name, and thing, would quickly be destroyed, and the Country Peoples Hair and Nails would grow as long as Nebuchadnezzar's in the fourth of Daniel.

Therefore, I pray Sir, command your Son to be true and just to the Out-side of Christian Religion, and leave the rest to God's Grace upon the use of means. Let him not harken to the Whispers of such as would insinuate distastful Notions of Ceremonies of Church-Government; for if he once grows dissetled in his Mind from the Publick Worship, then he will pic­keer out under every Hedge, for a new Re­ligion, and finding himself disappointed, [Page 59]'tis odds but in a twelve Months time he may magnifie the Leviathan, and when he comes to that, if he doth not cut your Throat (provided he can doe it safely) for fear you disinherit him, truly you are beholden to him.

8. Oblige him to frequency of Writing Home: For coming to the University is not like going beyond Sea, where some Persons learn to forget their Relations, and would absolutely Slight them, were it not for a Bill now and then. Letters to and fro are some kind of Guard upon a Youth: And it will not onely be an honest means of filling up some Idle time, but will make him better able to Write an handsom Letter which is no disparagment to a Gentleman, or to Write a good Hand, which few do. Beside all this, he who begins to contemn his Relations, to whom he owes all, will quickly reckon Tutoring a Relation not so considerable and regard­able as at first he was told. And in a lit­tle time Commands will look like Tyranny and Usurpation; and then Tutour, Fa­ther, and Vice-Chancellour, will never be able to balance the World, the Flesh, and the Devil.

9. I would not have him grow in love with Cards and Dice. For though at first [Page 60]nothing may seem more harmless than to cheat a tedious hour or two with the loss of a Trifle: Yet by degrees much Play will beget Skill, and Skill will beget Emu­lation, this will heighten Wagers: Frequent losses will encrease Passion: Frequent con­quests will make him think himself a greater Gamester than really he is: And whenever he goes so far that Passion blinds what Skill he hath, or Opinion makes him bold of what Skill he hath not, then it will be time to send him up to London, to help maintain the Wits of the Town.

Among'st whom, if he loseth, it's like­ly he is Cheated; if he wins, then he must Fight the Man he hath Ʋndone: And so stake 2000. Pounds a Year against a Silver Sword: If you permit him to be fond of Gaming while he is young, and this doth not befall him, indeed it is none of his Fa­ther's fault.

10. As for your Allowance and mode­rate Pocket-Money, it must be at your Discretion: Onely I desire that it may go through my hands, at least the whole first year, till I can take some measures of his Discretion. I would not have him allowed too little, that he may live like a Gentle­man; and I would not have him allowed too much, lest he should set up for nothing else.

11. That he grow intimate with none, but such as I shall recommend to his Ac­quaintance: Necessity, Good Manners, and the customary Respect which is usual­ly paid Strangers, will command a friend­ly Correspondency with the Members of the same College. But it is of very ill Conse­quence, for an unexperienc'd, easie-na­tur'd Person of Quality, (the better natur'd, the sooner undone) to make himself fond of every Man, who shall court a constant Familiarity, with all the Civility of Ad­dress and Friendship.

For, if he be a man of great Acquaintance, so must you. If he be Idle, then, by fre­quent Avocations, he will by degrees les­sen the Practice of your Duty, and jest you out of the Opinion of it. Then Prayers shall be call'd Loss of Time; Disputations, School-play; and Lectures, Pedantry: Then the Tutor's Presence will become frightful, Advice useless, and Commands provoking.

12. You must leave him wholly to me, for the Method of his Study, and the Books he must read; and expect an Account from me, of his Abilities and Inclinations, in order to a Course of Life hereafter.

13. And now, last of All, I must inge­nuously tell you both, That if he observes [Page 62]all these things, and doth it meerly out of a Fear of your Displeasure, and not out of a Sense of his Duty to God, as well as Man, (and secretly wish, that he had Li­berty to be as wild as the worst;) it will be but a sort of Eye service, a forc'd Com­plement of good Nature, and never come to much.

But, if he be a serious and thinking Youth, Vertuously and Religiously inclin'd; if a­ble to consider the Performance of his Duty, as a share of that Service God re­quires for the Talents He affords: Then he will study without bidding, and say his Prayers when no Man sees: And a Voice then from behind, shall bid him go on, and presper; and all the Care and Kindness in the World I will promise you, shall be thought too little.

It was very Comical, to hear the differing Apprehensions I and the rest of the Com­pany had of this Discourse. For the Wo­men long'd to go, and see the College, and the Tutor. And when he was gone out of the Room, I ask'd, how they lik'd the Person, and his Converse? My Boy clung about his Mother, and cry'd to go Home again; And she had no more Wit, than to be of the same Mind: She thought him too weakly, to undergo so much Hard­ship, [Page 63]as she fore-saw was to be expected. My Daughters, who (instead of Cate­chism, and Lady's Calling) had been us'd to read nothing but Speeches in Roman­ces, and hearing nothing of Love and Ho­nour in all the Talk, fell into down-right scolding at him; call'd him the Meerest Scholar: and if this were your Oxford-Breeding, they had rather he should go to Constantinople to learn Manners. But I, who was older, and understood the Lan­guage, call'd them all great Fools; and told them, That there was so much plain, practicable Truths in what he had said, that if every Gentleman would effectually take such a Course, it were impossible for one Child in Forty to miscarry.

But perceiving, by some Part of the Dis­course, that our Children should be earlier furnished in the School with Learning, and so come sooner to the Ʋniversity than generally they do, before they are too much their own Men, and in sight of One and Twenty: In behalf of a Young Noble man of my near Acquaintance, whose Eldest Son was about four or five Years of Age, and who was very solicitous to manage his E­ducation to all the best Advantages, I de­sir'd him to furnish me with some In­structions, serviceable to that Noble Fa­mily, [Page 64]in the Prevention of such Inconve­niencies, as I my self had run into.

He told me, That he thought a Child might, by Twelve Years of Age, be furnish'd with good Skill in Latin, and some in Greek; and then, after Five Years stay in the Ʋniversity, be very well prepar'd for all the Uses of Travel, according to the Me­thods and Directions in the Book of Edu­cation, and Gentleman's-Calling; which can never be read over too often by the Gen­try. The most easie and common Advice, which every Man's Experience shews to be most absolutely necessary, he bade me practise, as follows.