Angliae Speculum Morale;  
THE Moral State OF ENGLAND, WITH The several Aspects it beareth TO VIRTUE and VICE. With the LIFE of THEODATUS, And Three Novels, Viz. 

The LAND-MARINERS,  
FRIENDSHIP SUBLIMED,  
The FRIENDLY RIVALS.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉!  
Oh veré Phrygiae, neque enim Phryges'!   
LONDON, Printed for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at the Blue Anchor in the lower Walk of the New Exchange, 1670.   

TO THE READER.  
IT may be thought that these ensueing Characters are meant for reflections upon particular persons: but I here assure the World that I only strike at general practices. I do no more than what myself would willingly receive from any hand; and I shall always write his name with the first, in the Roll of my friends, who telleth me wherein I have transgressed: for they are most happy who are most innocent; now since humanity is naturally prone to ill, it ought to be our care to avoid and hate it, and the way to do so, is first to know it. I think he who striveth to wound his Brother's existimation, at the same time stabbeth his own; for thus he brandeth himself with the infamous name of a malicious person, and is avoided by all as noxious to civil Converse. Most ages have brought forth those public spirits, those friends to their Country, who have dissected Vice, and showed it in its ugliest colours: of most note amongst the Ancients were Juvenal, Persius, Horace; and almost every Age and every Nation since have been happy in such, and doubtless they wrought a greater Reformation with them down right blows then 〈◊〉 Pyth●●●ras, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Theophrastus; nay, than that professed Master of Ethics Zeno, or any of the numerous Schools of Moralists have, with their most persuasive reasons. Vice from the least of familiarity slippeth into an habit, and in the end infatuateth; and how it hath insinuated itself into the affections of the English, nay, how it is incorporate with their Natures, their daily actions show. The Nation's obstinacy I fear is a sad presage of its fate: for it turneth not from its wont courses, though the will of Heaven hath been spoken in Plague, and War; nay, though't hath given its commandment (like the Levitical Law) in a dreadful Fire. And we know that God hardened Pharaoh's heart before he drowned him, and his host in the red sea. In this juncture of time it resembleth Crispinus in the account which Juvenal gives of him in these words; 
Ecce iterum Crispinus, & est mihi saepe vocandus  
Ad parts, monstrum nulla virtute redemptum  
A vitijs, Aeger, solaque libidine fortis.   
If I can by these Lines oblige my Countrymen to better courses, I shall attain my end; if I cannot, I have done my duty as a freeborn Subject, who ought to be solicitous for his Countries good. The experienced may see farther than the tender Rays of my young Eyes will reach; for I pretend to set down nothing here but what is obvious to the weakest sight.   

MAN.  
THe transactions of this World are the most unpleasant speculations that ever entertained my mind. All affairs do resemble the great Machine's of Heaven and Earth, in their motion and volubility, but not in their regularity; for the Sun riseth from the East, at noon visiteth the South, and maketh the West his Bed; the Moon swerveth not from her appointed limits, observeth her times of Change, and influenceth the Sea; that also keepeth its hours of flux and reflux; and generally the whole offspring of Nature moveth as at first, but only Man, who was designed Master of the whole, though he partaketh of the Heavenly soul, liveth in opposinon to all Laws and Sanctions of God, and 〈◊〉, runneth a course contrary to all Order; and in his Actions, if not in his Heart, saith, Tush, there is no allseeing Providence, no God. 'tis true, the whole progeny of Adam is obnoxious to his original guilt: but Baptism is the Laure of Regeneration; we have innate affections, and propensities to do evil, since our Mother's convers with the serpent; But Grace is in the World, which will resine our natures. Doubtless no evil is in us, but the cure is in our own power: no poisonous Herb (as Naturalists observe) sprouteth out, but in the same field its Antidote is placed. 'Tis a prodigy that Men since they know they have a rational soul which is to measure out Eternity, and after, according to the habits and inclinations it served most here, is to receive a Crown, or a Scorpion, should follow the dictates of Sense, wholly deposing Reason from her Empire over the passions, and be as Kings, (though partaking of all the inconveniencies of Humanity) for one hour, to be afterwards most miserable for Myriads of Myriad of ages, which like a Circle will never have an end. Did not Heaven oftener stretch out a staff then a rod, apply Gileads Balm, then pursue revenge: the World had many Centuries of years since been past the frontiers where now it stands, and immersed in the very centre of the Valley of Tears and Death.  
From Adam through the wide Organs of the depraved species, the sad effects of his fate are derived to all; but yet these Miseries by the mercy of Heaven being salved; every heady appetite which we caress, and embrace, is the Serpent which betrayeth our souls anew into that infinity of inconveniencies which attendeth the eating of forbidden fruit. These unhappy, and often repeated actions, have created parallel habits in us, which have changed the whole Mass of our Nature, and have set us in a diametrical opposition to all that is called good: to prove this, if we examine the intrigues, and daily occurrences in the World, we shall find nothing, if applied to the Divine Rule, conformable, nothing if laid in the balance of the Sanctuary, of just weight; every rational Being, like the ambitious Angels, hath perverted the intent of its creation; none but sensitive and vegetative Creatures pursue the primitive end of their institutions.  

There is no Medium betwixt good and evil.  
They admit of no mixture, or mutual commerce.   
Whoever is not good, is its contrary; if a good Action be leavened with the least Vice, it is overcome by its powers, and degenerateth into bad: the least Sin stamps Ignominy on the fairest Virtue; the Scripture says, He who breaketh but one Commandment, though he have inviolably observed all the rest, is guilty of the breach of the whole Table.  
If thus then; alas, what should we be if all our actions were put to the Test! how few do oblige without the hope of a threefold return? who loves without a sensual, or avaricious end? who will serve their King and Country without the hope of Reward from him, or applause from her? in fine, we undertake nothing but we consider ourselves first; and if we cannot work our own interests, we will let the other fall, though of the most public nature. We obey no Parent but the Flesh; we hug no Brother but a son of Belial; we know no Friend but the unrighteous Mammon: but oh deceived Man! thy blind Parent will lead thee, as blind, into an ocean of Maladies, and Miseries, thy Brother to a Dungeon, or a Gibbet, and thy Friend will hinder thee from ever beholding the Heavenly mansions. Oh! where must distressed Virtue plant her feet, if thus encroached upon? where must she be found if her Antagonist thus in Triumph exalt her crowned head? sure like Astraea, no where but above the Stars. To conclude with the corollary of the whole, every action of Man is impertinent; he draweth no Line to its true Centre; he leveleth all his designs at a false end, and wandreth in those broad paths which conduct to the gates of Destruction.  

The Nobleman.  
HE who is advanced to Title and Fortune, and is become an head of the people, either by his own merits or the achievements of his Ancestors, aught to be exemplary in virtue. Being set by Heaven on such a conspicuous place on purpose to guide the people into the paths of love, and obedience to their God, and King; and to show them the ill effects of contrary performances: like Candles put at night in Pharos Towers, which at once give the Matiners a view of their fruitful E. gypt, and lead them off those many and dangerous shelves of the Nile.  
No Nation ever boasted a braver, a more gallant, a more virtuous Nobility than England; who have raised eternal Monuments in foreign parts to their Country and themselves, witness their adventures in the Holy wars, their conquest of France and Ireland, their many attempts upon the valorous Scott, before the happy union of the Crowns; of late times in the West-Indies, before we got footing there, on the Continent, our exploits in Spain, and Portugal will speak; at Sea in the Spanish invasion; and several other remarkable Encounters there and elsewhere. But yet, though they have gained Honour and a deathless Fame, why should it descend to an Adulterate and Sophisticate posterity? why should they inherit their Glories who do not their Virtues? who can boast only of the empty name of a descent from Noble and gallant Loins? 'tis not fit that Tissue and Arras which have adorned Palaces should hang on the Clay-walls of a Cottage, because the Dust of the one would Eclipse the Beauty of the other; no more is it so, that they who are fallen from the Glories of virtuous Fathers, should bear those Escutcheons which they transmitted to them fair and white, lest they cloud them with that black ignominy which results from vicious practices; Honour, as well as Friendship requiring Virtue for a Basis.  
I wish this discourse could not seem to appertain and be directed to the now English Nobless so much as it doth: (with the pardon of some few, to whose conduct and generous integrity, England must own much of her present happiness, and own much of her future.) but this being no private concern, but one of so public a Nature, that every freeborn Subject seemeth to have a share in their carriage, they being the Pillars of the Government, as they are Councillors of the King; I must take notice of it. 'tis now by the great ones thought putrid pedantery, to be skilled in Arts or Arms; they leave the practice of those to the plodding Students, of these, to the soldier who sights for pay; so putting at once their Nations Glories, and its fortunes into unexperienced and mercenary hands. They in their lives imitate the softness they tried in their Cradles: they are pierced with a Northern blast, blown down with the sound of a Trumpet; nor did ever any Action of theirs speak them valiant, but the beating a Lackey who dares not resist, or the kicking a poor Tradesman down the stairs whom they had undone before. These sure are virtues exceeding all those for which story gives their Ancestors a Fame. Religion is a thing they explode conversation, it merits not their thoughts, yet they build Groves to the Gods of this world in high places, and build Altars, and with a more than heathenish superstition pay sacrifice to the weakest of Creatures. Sure these are greater Idolatries than the son's of Nebat, though he made Israel to sin. Luxury hath obtained above all; they eat, drink, and play, but think not to morrow they must die. Thus their manners are not only become effeminate, but their bodies and their strengths are decayed. Their Fathers fed upon those corroborating meats the Island did afford, (which certainly, if ever any was, is a most fortunate one) and they sympathising with them, gave them the most natural force; but these not content with what in such abundance it offered, have suffered our Nation to be invaded with foreign softnesses, and to be cat up with what itself was intended for food, for nothing, it is sure, consumeth our bodies more than these; and our Estates must suffer if we entertain a commerce for what turns to no profit, but ends in a loathsome excrement; then to consummate this happiness, a French Cook must prepare the viands; most of their other Menials being of that Nation; (who are the most nasty naturally, and the most false of all the Europeans,) terming their own Countrymen not agreeable or adroit enough; thus they suffer their poor Natives to starve, whilst they seed a people whom God hath placed in a Clime which giveth them even a superfluous maintenance: Fornication is no sin with them, and Adultery is the least; they not considering in every such Act, that they invade their neighbour's freehold: These customs accompanied them home who were sent out so young that they could remark nothing but the vices of a Country, and sure it were a consideration worthy of the Parliament, to enact, that either (with the Lacedaemonian State) they should not travail at all, or not till they are come to some maturity. Is it not fine, that when the Nation calleth for their heads or hands, they should be employing the one, in beholding the the imaginary beauties of an eye, and the other, in the worse Offices of a mean, and loathsome, yet commanding Lechery; where will these folly's end? doubtless no where but in their ruins who foment them; will it not by these practices come to pass, that nothing shall be more despicable in the eyes and mouths of the People then the Nobility? those who were their Country's greatest Glory, and delight, will in time become its greatest ignominy and hate; there is no return to lost Glories; the descent to Hell is easy, but the coming back impossible; the unhappy Angels, (though they wrought their fates by Nobler means, by ambitioning higher honours) must now wear out eternity in everlasting Chains and Darkness.   

The Courtier.  
AS his Obligations are greater to his Prince; and his advantages more immediate from him, so ought his affections to be more fixed to, and centred in his concerns, and his services to be of greater volume than those of others; for though the Great Monarch of Heaven and Earth will be praised by us his mean subjects here, yet the Angels whom he honoureth with a nearer converse, with more close approaches to his radiant Majesty, give him more magnifying praises, more elevated Hallelujahs. He who truly intends to make a Court the Scene of his life, aught above all to practise sincerity, and to value his faith; for the addresses of the people to their Sovereign of all kinds being conveyed through him as a conduct, it should be his care that they arrive at the Royal Ear without addition or diminution; lest he wrong them in their affairs, and so alienate their affections from him to whom they are due, and purchase to himself in the end shame, if not death. He ought to appear in a garb not above his place, for so he may procure envy to himself, nor below the dignity of his Master, lest he wrong him; He ought to use all means to advance him in the affections of the people, to endear his interest to them, to exercise an obliging mien to all; but especially to foreigners under what Character soever they remain here, to show himself in all splendour due to the Office he holdeth, to them, that he may create a Reverence in them for the Author of it. He must be seen in the intrigues and interests of transmarine states, and know their benign and malevolent Aspects one to the other; to be ready upon all emergencies to meet the maladies of the body politic by his Head or Arm; to espouse its fortune only, and to do his devoir to it by freely sacrificing his life, and posterity, and by returning without regret, his goods to that service from whence he received them; imitating in that his Master who though he hath large incomes from the people, yet restoreth them by expending them upon all exigencies for their good, as the Sun draweth off exhalations and vapours from the Earth, but sendeth them into her Lap again in gentle and fruitful showers, which assist her nature, and make her bring forth in larger proportions.  
But 'tis wonderful to see how far men are from what they really aught to be, his moral parts seem to be subject to the same vicissitudes with the state he feareth; for now you shall behold him like the lazy Leviathan, taking his sport in the deepest Abysses of pleasure, preying upon those smaller Fish whose strength cannot resist his power: he is drowsy and backwards to the advantages of his Prince, but always vigilant for his own; he runneth in ways excentrique to all Virtue, and knoweth no Friend or Divinity but Venus, Bacchus, and his Mammon; his motion is perpetually in bowing and cringing, but he is as constant in directing his Eye to the pole of his interests, as the magnetic Needle is to the North; he is that true Chemist who extracts by the calcining fire of his feigned-ardent affections, gold out of the bleeding estates of unhappy delinquents, and of those whom the Law adjudgeth to punishment, and sometimes of innocent offenders, and pretended Criminals; But though these may be the principles of some, yet there are many whose integrity, and fidelity to their Prince renders them worthy of those advantages they enjoy: yet their carriage cannot excuse others. There is an impertinent thing called a young Courtier, whom I shall draw as near the life as I can.  
His discourse is that which profaneth the ears of the Good, and the wise, and proveth troublesome even to the most impertinent; his remarks are of the most inconsiderable encounters of the day, in which himself is always a principal Actor; either how many Women by his false vows he hath overcome; or where he hath made the greatest debauches in Burgundy or Campaigne, at Jero's, Shattelin's, or Lafroons; or if his happy invention doth supply him with a distorted Rebus, or an ugly dismembered Anagram, an unnatural Antithesis, a forced quibble, or an uncivil reparty that bites one's reputation, (which all are the dry scabs of a corrupted wit,) he must be admired for being Master of a greater ingenuity than Ben Johnson; He is sure to have three or four verses of Love and Honour ready out of the latest Play, and the last new Song in his pocket, which he hath copied in false English. 'Tis fit his dress should be gay, because Embroideries are for the Palaces of Kings; but it is not fit that many poor families, to supply his extravagancies, should want bread: 'tis miserable to think that a thousand curses should attend his steps and not one good wish should be sent up for him: but why should prayers be offered for him who never prays? who contemneth Religion as a vile thing? who never nameth God but in his Oaths or Burlesque.   

The Gentleman  
IN the frame of the State, is like the Tuscan Pillar in Architecture, which though it be not so Polite as the other Orders, nor can boast a well proportioned neatness, like the jonick, nor an handsomely adorned head, like the Corinthian Column, yet it is in building the foundation of all their Beauties; so though he be inferior in Title, yet in Power and interest he is equal if not superior to the Nobleman; for in all Records we find the House of Commons to have been very considerable in the Government, though the Lords make a Court of Judicature; it is his Duty to serve his Country by his Presence there, to preserve her Peace, and to defend her Privileges and Immunities; to be hospitable to his indigent neighbours, to receive the stranger and way-faring-man with Cheerfulness and Civility: In fine, to open his Napkin to all, and not to employ it in wrapping up his Talon. But alas! is it not miserable, that Vanity like Rome's Eagles at the Meridian of her power, should carry Conquest on her Wings to all places where she is pleased to flee? who of the wisest? nay, what Diviner (if any such there be) could have foreseen, that vice should have found out the once Sacred Groves, the quiet and innocent recesses of a Country? the Gentleman now hath changed the Blow and Cart, which did feed his Grandsire, and a brave Train of stout attendants in his great Hall, whose Labour well deserved their Hire, for a Gilded Coach, and a numerous Train of debauched and insignisicant Lackeys, and now by an unhappy Thrift hath converted his long Table well covered, and well filled, into a little round one, which holds one Dish and three People, and hath turned his great Hall into a little Parlour: He once in a year arriveth at London with his Lady, a rich or handsome Daughter, or a Niece, with whom they fail not daily to visit the Theatre, giving to her the accomplishments of the Town, who ought rather to be seen in the mysteries of a Country life. If her fortune be great, 'tis unfortunately shipwrecked upon some Lord; who after the enjoyment of her revenue, loathes her person; He places his Son perhaps at the Inns of Court, who knoweth he is to heir an Estate, and thinketh it but washing the Ethiopes, to injure his Brain with the sturdy Notions, and knotty Maxims of the Law: he therefore girdeth himself for other accomplishments, allotting the morning to dance or fence, at noon he dineth, in the afternoon he sees a Play, and to recreate his languishing spirits, he locketh up the day with fat vaporous Ale at Herculeses Pillars and maketh there his non ultra till 12 a clock! After two year, when he returneth to his Father and should give him the Harvest of the seed, which in such proportion he hath sown, he hath not Wit nor Law enough to keep his own Courts. The Gentleman commonly visits the Town at the expense of the poor Labourer's sweat, whom he hath now wracked to the utmost farthing; he liveth splendidly here for some months, he drinketh at all hours, he fitteth at the head of the Table, and for his honour disburseth for the reckoning; if well heated, he may, happily, be invited to sport with the frail die, and there he is certainly saluted with a high or low Fullam; or some other convenient instrument of execution; if his Genius leadeth not that way, he goeth to visit a Lady of Quality, an acquaintance of his Friends, who for that occasion is well dressed in her borrowed weeds, and hath Lodgings in some modish place, as the Piazza, South-hampton buildings, or Suffolk street; but is such a Creature, as will be at the beck of any Coachman, rather than he fallow; if he converse with her, he is either clapped, or payeth for his familiarity, with Silver, Gold, Watch or Ring, whatever movable he hath about him, and when he is laid to sleep, his Landabrides and his dear friend divide the spoil: when his whole Cargo is spent, than he either abscondeth, or without rigging, or ballast, sneaketh privately in a Stage-coach to his house in the Country, (his own being seized) and by the next Term is presented with an Execution, from his Tailor, or Landlord, and perhaps too from his Apothecary. These surely are great mistakes, and mighty impertinencies, and much dissonant from the nature of that Province with which Heaven hath endowed him. To conclude, if the Gentleman's fortunes Sympathise so much with the Peasants, that if the one faileth, the other falleth, much more must the States with his, who is her chief cornerstone.   

The Gallant or Hector  
IS he who maketh Vice his business; who recreates himself with dangerous follies; who feedeth upon his greatest enjoyments with Heaven's sword of justice hanging over his head by a very slender hair of Mercy. It is his chief principle to espouse none, longer than it indulgeth his unhappy designs. He apprehendeth Religion to be a thing dressed up in various Rites and Ceremonies, only to terrify the ignorant vulgar into obedience; grant there be a God, saith he; doth he require greater performances of us than our Nature will bear? doth he give us affections to indulge, and must not we gratify them? in making the true use of the Creature, we adore the Creator; we praise the Cause by doing Honour to the Effect; but he who thus argueth, considereth not that all these Blessings are given with a limitation, lest we might be so wholly intent in serving nature, that we might be forgetful of the Author of it; nor remembreth he that nothing is created perfect; that Adam was authorised by his Maker to Treat his sense with any Tree of Paradise, but one; he cometh to Town innocent enough, but by often conversing with Pitch, he at last retaineth it upon his Hands and ; he is, for the most part a younger Brother, who hath spent what his Father left him to subsist by; or a Reformed soldier, who having lived in the War, must when that Harvest is ended, perish in the Autumn, if he use nor some pious fraud which will give him meat; in order to live, he procure an interest in the Groomporters, or an Ordinary, and maketh these the Scenes of his future achievements: it is then his care to have intelligence of young Gentlemen of fortunes, who arrive at Town, that being known, he intrudeth into their company, and gaineth an interest, by obliging them by losing some small sum at first, as Fishers bait the waters over night, with hopes of a large return for these charges in the morning; and thus taketh a severer use than the Jews do of those out of their own pale, if any of them do not play, (which is very seldom seen;) he procureth him a Mistress, who certainly clappeth him, than he shareth with the Chirurgeon, who maketh his Cure more dilatory, and at the same time fluxes his body and his purse. And now, upon the reputation of this good Office, his friend advances, (pretending his servant out of the way) to borrow a trifling sum of 20 or 30 Guineas, which if asked for by the Creditor after the forbearance of 6 or 7 months, he is answered D' Damn Sir, you disoblige your friend, and you injure mine and your own honour; but when at last he findeth knowledge groweth on him, he taketh a small occasion to quarrel with him, and so the League of Friendship is broken; Foresight and Conduct he throweth behind him; he is the firstborn of fortune; this hour he is fraught with Gold, as if the grand Elixir were his own: to morrow you shall meet him poorer than a Poet; then he is forced to take sanctuary in the good nature of his Tailor or Shoemaker, who (though Jews enough) will yet give him Credit perhaps for a Guiney, because after a good hand he payeth well; with this he marcheth to the Ordinary, in hopes to make that two, he looseth it, and at twelve in the night, in great despair he goeth homewards, in his way meeteth with and quarrels the Watch, hath his head broken, and is laid in the Counter to repent till day; now if his Reputation ebbeth so, that he can have nothing upon Trust; and his fortune so bad, that his benefactress in the City (who is commonly a Merchant's wise) cannot help him, because her Husband hath the Key of the Cash-box; he than posteth to the place of Execution, throws at all upon the Table, if his Cast be good he sweepeth it, if bad, he oweth them all; and if he be a very poor Rascal, his loving Creditors remit him the sum, and kick him down the stairs. Upon these disadvantages, do men play that have fortunes: themselves may easily be ruined, (nay, it is forty to one if they are not,) but the others being already upon the ground, can fall no lower; he often, when he is idle, maketh his entry gratis at the 5th Act of a Play; and there either picketh up a loving Female whom he maketh drunk, and then abuseth 2 or 3 Bullies, who drown their cares and sing the Sun down and up with impious Catches; Oaths are so frequent with him, that he can as well not move his Eyes, as leave them; they are Compliments to his period, and they make them rounder: thus doth he murder his precious and immortal soul, which at last he expireth either from a bed of loathsome diseases and rottenness, or from a disgraceful Gibbet with common Malefactors.   

The Virtuoso  
DId rise Gloriously, like light out of the Chaos, and dazzled the Eyes of the astonished world, triumphing with a Masculine Gallantry over the impracticable Notions of the Ancients; but now he seemeth not to pursue his advantage with his primitive vigour, which hath diminished his Fame a little; for whoever treadeth the paths of Virtue, ought always to be in a forward motion, and by equal degrees, as he advanceth in the way, to double his pace till he cometh to the Goal. The Great Chancellor Bacon was the Columbus, who led us to this unknown America of new Philsophy, since him Cartesius and Gassendus have made the greatest discoveries in her Continent, to whom we shall with all willingness yield the Bays, if we consider the advantages we now enjoy from their labour; for all Precepts, all Notions are given us from above to regulate and direct our Actions; and the best of speculations are buried in oblivion, if they do not produce their due effects; now it is most certain, that most, or all of the principles of the Paripatetic Philosophy were mere Entia Rationis, in intellectu tantum, which now give place to Entia realia, to true and beneficial Experiments; doubtless it was the attempt of a most Heroic Virtue, to storm the whole Circle of ancient Learning, so much reverenced by Men, though for 〈◊〉 other cause than its Antiquity and the persuasions they had their Fathers esteemed it, as 〈◊〉 old times they honoured aged Oaks, because they thought some God had kept his residence under their shades. It is admirable how a body made up of 〈◊〉 many jarring and disagreeing Elements (I mean opposite opinions) should have obtained so much, and gained so mighty at Ascendant over the affections of men of parts enough refined, that they should pronounce him an Heretic, who should dare to contradict the meanest of its Members; bearing it up against experience which ought to be out general Mistress.  
The English Literati have presented the World with Effects of Industry and Ingenuity most worthy of their causes; they have improved the Art of Grinding Glasses, which is a great advantage to Astronomy and Sea-affairs; by the study of Micrography, and the Anatomy of infects, they have displayed a new Page of the Book of Nature; they have by more exact scrutiny into humane bodies, discovered the circulation and the source of many diseases, and have lately obliged us with an experiment of the transfusion of the blood of one Animal into another, which is never enough to be gratefully admired, though it hath the ill fortune to be little esteemed of now, but in ensuing ages, it will certainly be crowned with its due applause; for it is always seen that great Actions are denied their Bay's in that age in which they are born, because Envy and prejudicated Malice, (the offsprings of the old Serpent) detract from them. The Hypothesis of Water, and Air, (the advance of the latter being— in the Air-pump, a Noble mechanic invention) are very rational, and the inspection into the Nature of Vegetables, hath much advantaged Man in the support his body will receive from them. Their progress in all Physical Learning hath generally been great; but upon Chemistry particularly they have spent much Labour, and Oil. And here I must declare, that though I honour all the ingenious and industrious, I cannot be reconciled to those who are in pursuit of that great Magistery of Nature (as they call it) the Philosopher's stone; it is wonderful that they should consume so considerable a portion of their lives in the search of that which they know not really to be in the Created substances: or if it should exist, which hath so mean an end as the bringing Gold into the World, which is the efficient cause of all strises, and evils; whose converse the good avoid, because it commonly turneth even the souls of its votaries into its own Hypostasis: how cruelly do they macerate themselves who search for this! how they foment those scourges of our lives, Hope, and Fear! each minute bringeth with it a promise of success which expiteth in Fumc; and at last when they are just upon the Frontiers of bliss, and think the next minute to embrace their wished for Elixit, they find in their Arm only a Caput mortuum, a Terra Damnata, in which they have buried perhaps their whole fortunes, and the greatest number of their most hopeful years, and all which at last ariseth from the expense, is summed up in two, or three moral Corollaries; and they end their days with this Prayer in their mouths, O si praeteritos reparet mihi Jupiter annes.  
Now, to return to the Virtuoso; when I consider what small returns of civility we make to these ingenious persons who have obliged us so much, I can find our coldness to have no other cause then what themselves do give, they so readily admitting all persons into their Society, who will pay the Duties of the house, though they know not the terms of Philosophy, make the multitude, who never see the bottom of an affair, judge of all from their weakness; they commonly entertain the company of a Coffee-house, with some refuse notions gleaned from the ingenious, which they pronounce as Magisterially as if they had been secretary's to Nature, and discourse as confidently of the harmony of her parts, as a Country Musician playeth who never learned his Gam-ut. From the impertinencies of these pretenders, this Royal Corporation suffereth, when it ought rather to be encouraged, and caressed by all the Great and Learned for all the great advantages it promiseth in the future; for it is most true, that whosoever is a good Philosopher is a good man; because no one looketh into the recesses of Nature, who is not induced to extol the Author of it, and so gratefully maketh his return for the immense favours in serving and honouring him who conferred them. Thus out of a Physical knowledge, a Moral one starts and we see Science and Virtue have the same Basis. It is certain, Learning hath no Enemies but the Envious, and Ignorant, and even from these evils she reapeth good; for from the detraction of the former, she raiseth repute, since nothing but Virtue is the subject of Envy, and from the inveterateness of the latter, she hath a benefit too; since the praises of the unwise are reproaches, and whosoever delighteth in them, wrappeth himself in the better half of his Fools-coat; and E converso his reproaches must be praises.   

The Divine  
HAth the powers of cursing, and absolving upon Earth; and therefore aught to be reverenced as God's immediate instrument. Now, though his injuries be many from the disaffected, yet under these great pressures he ought with the Palm, to lift up his head highest; and to exalt his voice like a Trumpet to maintain war against all the Champions of Vice; every one bendeth his bow to the head, and aims at the white of the Clergy's innocence, accusing them for covetous, and loos-livers, not considering how many amongst them are neither: but grant they were so, we ought, as men, to pardon them their errors; and as the servants of Heaven we ought to reverence them: should we be struck so surely from above for every little sin, as we do one another, our whole species had before this time been utterly destroyed, and had left the World to be possessed by sensitive beings; but I fear the great concern of these pretenders will only prove that which taketh not its source from a due principle, but a sensual end; the desire of possessing the Church's revenues; if so, oh how impious is their design! surely they that serve at the Altar ought to live by it; if they who serve Earthly Kings, aught to live gloriously according to the dignity of their Lords; than à fortiori, they ought to be in all things above the rest, who attend upon the Monarch of Heaven, and Earth: but there is one thing which would in all likelihood recover the Church, and that is, if the Nobility and Gentry of the Nation could be persuaded to enter into Orders; by their Alliance, and Interest, they might bulwark themselves against those who would break in upon them, through the mightiest fastnesses of their Virtue: no one can be too good to attend at the Altar: David was King and Priest, and so were all his successors in Israel; and it was imputed to the Jews for sin, that they chose their Priests out of the meanest of the people; for their persons being held in contempt by those who were their equals before; their Office comes to be so too, and the best parts also suffer when clouded with poverty.  Raro in tenui facundia panno. 
It is true, that Heaven lately shown its displeasure to our Church, and seated Foreigners in its fattest Sees; yet it was said to them, as to the Israelites when they went to possess Canaan, I send you up to possess the Land of the Anakim, not for your own Righteousness, (for you are a stiffnecked people) but to scourge the Nations which enjoy it. But now we may plainly see how great the concern of Heaven is for the Church, since the Ecclesiastical and politic Government are so united, that they both fall, and both rise together; Many now shoot at her foundations, but I hope she is built upon Zion which cannot be moved. The points of Toleration and Comprehension have been so thoroughly discussed, that here I need but mention their names, only I must say, I should be very unwilling to see either of them obtain in this Kingdom. Now the Churchmen ought rather Magna vivere then Magna loqui, and to show by their own practices, that the Precepts which they give may be easily obeyed. The fat Bulls of Basan have prevailed now; but the Almighty hath only crowned them with success, to make them fall nobler Sacrifices to his wrath.   

The Physician  
IS to the body what the Divine is to the soul, though he doth not administer his province with a parallel integrity; since his Knowledge is increased, Diseases are so too; and our bodies by his applications are become less robust, and vigorous; for by relying on them, our natural heat and radical humours are impaired, which were our supports; and not seldom, the very remedy of one Malady is the cause of another; but not only from this natural cause, but a more inhuman one, resulteth as great an evil; for to swell his own profit, he often prolongeth the Agonies, the Miseries of his poor Patient, making himself seem to him a greater distemper than that he is already travailed with. From those dry bones, which none who pass by, can think could live, he will extract a lively and sparkling Essence to himself, and he will draw sweetness from the most putrified Carcase, his Recipe whose barbarous Character fully speaketh his— manners) produceth two Pieces to himself; then if you should recover, (which is more the effect of Providence then his Care,) the Apothecary, or Chirurgeon giveth with a cruel Bill, the lately cicatrized wound, a new gash; he visiteth you as long as the pulse of your Purse beateth high; but when he findeth it to decline, then, he saith, you grow so well that you need not his Art; or your disease is so desperate, that it cannot assist you; his thoughts of God are not so as they ought to be; for by his so frequently viewing the works of Nature, he is apt to misapply and attribute too much to second Causes. He adoreth that great principle of Nature, Self-preservation, but neglecteth that as great one of Christianity, to preserve his Brother; nay rather like a Cannibal, he preyeth upon him: though I very much honour this profession, yet I must not the abuses of it; though it be very necessary, yet the neglects, and the ill ends of the professors of it, render it often dangerous: for it is most certain, that they not seldom by their Clothes do transfer the disease of one, to the other; and it is as sure that many suffer by their applying Medicines to diseases, which plain Care, or Nature would work off. If his Fees were more moderate, the Patient would receive a greater advantage, and himself no detriment; for now, by the excess of them, the sick person cannot see him above once in a day, and there being so many critical minutes in a disease, it is impossible he should prescribe for them in his absence. Thus also the inferior sort of the Nation will enjoy a benefit; for many who are lost for want of advice, are able to give a Crown, who cannot afford a Guinny: it is in fine, a profession, which employeth the industry and study of its Professors, and chargeth them with the greatest duties and care, and therefore aught to be most countenanced if it impose not too much upon the World.   

The Lawyer.  
FRom Adam to the Flood, the Law of Nature only reigned; but, when wickednesses increased upon the surface of the earth, God laid his commands against Murder and Blood, and afterwards as the age degenerated Laws increased, and became an Asylum to the Good, and a terror to the Bad. Since the concord of brethren is rare, because every man preferreth his own interest, Law is appointed for the preservation of the world; therefore, the approaches to it, aught to be easy, for if a Sanctuary be locked, of what advantage is it to that miserable man who flieth to its protection: the Law which God gave to his peculiar people, which he often called stiffnecked and perverse, was comprised within the narrow compass of two Tables; and this he thought enough to bridle their greatest exorbitancies; the Twelve Tables, nay the Roman or Civil Law itself governed a Nation the most Great, most Glorious, and most Adventurous in the World; which without the impertinent, and indigested glosses of Bartolus and Baldus, and others, is of very little volume; But we of this Nation are now exposed by what should be our refuge; devoured by what should be our guard; the Rules of our Law growing into so monstrous a body, that like the famed Dragon, they devour daily a considerable Member of the Virgin justice. Every Term bringeth forth a collection of new Reports; and every Judgement soweth the seed of a new strife; betwixt the Pleaders and the Attorneys, the Prize which the parties contend for is shared; the latter of which, is a generation of men so Magisterial where they live, and so oppressing, and withal, so numerous, that at last, with the too much injured Client, they will devour the Lawyer too: who certainly hath the same ground to prefer a Bill in Parliament against them, for invading his province, as the Physician had against the Apothecary; how unhappy are since we under the wings of a pretended justice all enormities are committed! She now like a rich Heiress is bought and sold, and that which should oppose deceit, is itself now become the greatest, so that Photinus' principle in Lucan seemeth to be the Lawyer's.  Jus, & fas multos faciunt Ptolemae nocentes. 
The poor Countryman when with his Hat in his hand, he hath entreated his Counsellor to let him buy his misery, is after two or three years' attendance, and the charge of witnesses and journeys, dismissed with the loss of his cause, (so that it may be said, the Law, like Rome in her grandeur, suis ipsa viribus ruit,) and after a seeming trouble is told, that his own mistaken instructions were the ruin of his affair. But those who have long been tossed in these troublesome waters find that the safest way to an Haven is to Fee his Antagonist's Counsel, as well as his own; the conveyances which we make now are scarce contained in many skins of Parchment; and often for the mistake of one word, the whole fabric is ruined, though it be evidently contrary to the intent of the Conveyer. Though these days are more adorned with Gold; yet those nearer the Norman Conquest, and before it, more resembled the Golden ones. For then; a few Rhithmes composed by an honest well meaning Bard, served to pass away the greatest possessions: the hearts of men were sure more honest, and their designs more honourable, when it was enough to write.  

I give this Lond from me, and mine,  
To thee, and thine:—  
Witness   

Meg, Maud, and Margery,  
And my young Son Harry.  
And to show this is in sooth,  
I by't this green wax with my Tooth.   
The ways to prevent suits were to appoint a Register in every County, where the Estates of every Lord and Freeholder should be entered, that so the Purchaser may understand for what he trafsiqueth.  
It would also prove much more easy for all, if the Parliament would enact that a sum should be difaulked from the ordinary Fees of the Lawyer, and that no cause should depend in any Court above a time which they should praefix; this would very much remedy the dilatoriness of their Processes: It rouseth my spleen to see men so infatuated, and so prone to gratify revenge, that they will ruin themselves to advance people, many of whom are so great strangers to fence, if diverted from the paths they run in, that if one desireth to be resolved of the reason of a judgement or decree, they tell you it is according to their Books; by which, doubtless, they are frequently very much imposed on. They receive the placita of their Sages with greater reverence than the Ancients did their Oracles, which they thought were inspired from Heaven; and attribute a greater infallibility to them then those of the Roman persuasion in Ecclesiastic affairs to the Pope; forgetting that as humane, they may err in their opinions; setting them up above experience, from which Osbourne said truly, King Charles received better Precepts than his Father from Buchanan. In fine, we may know them to be the soul of dissension, and rapine; because like the issue of the Dragon's teeth sown by Cadmus, they begin to by't and embroile the Nation as soon as they tread her Stage.   

The Poet  
VErse to the brave, is like the Trumpet to the Warrior: it animates them to greater exploits. 
* Ode Pindaric inscribed the resurrection.  Mr. Cowley declareth its great use in the following Stanza.  

Not winds to Voyagers at Sea,  
Not showers to Earth more necessary be,  
(Heavens vital seed cast on the womb of earth  
To give the fruitful year a birth)  
Then Verse to Virtue, which can do  
The Midwis' office, and the Nurses too;  
It feedeth it strongly, and it clothes it gay,  
And when it dies, with comely pride  
Embalmes it, and erects a Pyramid.  
That never will decay  
Till Heaven itself shall melt away,  
And nought behind it stay.   
It is reported of Alexander, that in all his expeditions he made Homer his companion; and I verily suppose the Panegyrics of those dead Heroes inspired him with the briskest thoughts of emulation. Poetry hath been Reverenced in all ages since the very first dawn of knowledge; which respect hath certainly had its source from the Oracles delivering of their answers, and the ancient Philosophers setting forth their opinions in Meeter. The high sentiments which the Latins entertain for it, appear by their giving the Professors of it the honourable Title of Vates. The Bards and Chroniclers in the Isles of Britain and Ireland have been in former times even adored for the Ballads in which they extolled the Deeds of their forefathers; and since the ages have been refined, doubtless, England hath produced those, who in this way have equalled most of the Ancients: and exceeded all the Moderns. Chaucer risen like the morning Starr of Wit, out of those black mists of ignorance; since him, Spencer may deservedly challenge the Crown; for though he may seem  in not observing decorum in some places enough, and in too much, in the whole, countenancing Knight-errantry; yet the easy similitudes, the natural Pourtraicts, the so refined and sublimated fancies with which he hath so bestudded every Canto of his subject will easily reach him the Guerdon; and though foam may object to him that his Language is harsh and antiquated; yet his design was noble; to show us that our language was expressive enough of our own sentiments; and to upbraid those who have indenizoned such numbers of foreign words; since in this way so many have excelled, that we can give the Crown to no one, but the rest must be manifestly injured: yet they must pardon me if I tell them that they seem to have degenerated by turning their styles to light and insignificant Sonnets, and scurrilous Burlesque, and offensive doggrel; which last way of Drollery hath so much obtained now, that they doubt not to abuse all serious things in it; nay even to make the lofty expressions of the Prince of Poets to seem ridiculous. They have not only done this but some have turned that which used to charm our thoughtful heads, and to persuade our distempered spirits into gentle slumbers, by easy and natural softness, into a rough Mystery and Art; they strive to bring wit, which is of so unknown a Nature, that like the wind no one knoweth whence it is, under logical Notions; arguing syllogistically and troubling the world with Volumes of what is impertinent to it; that they may advance their own names, so turning our delight into trouble. 'Tis a pity that men of these abilities should not ennoble some of those great subjects which our Nation yieldeth: but should spend their time in praising an Eye, or Feature, which they may see exceeded at any Country Wake. By this it is more evident that we have deviated from those paths which did lead our Ancestors to fame, and are become so effeminate, that like Sardanapalus, we spin amongst the Women, who by their Artifices have so wholly gained us, that we speak or think of nothing else; as commonly through our whole Malady those objects detain our thoughts most, which affected them at the beginning of it, and were its causes, since the stage which used to represent general vices is come to reflect on particulars; itself, whilst it injureth the reputation of any one, becometh the greatest vice. Momus is not allowed to speak of all at all times. Since all men are naturally prone to ill, whoever is not purged himself, cannot accuse another.  
By these ways no Reformation is wrought, but great animosities arise. They who have faculties this way, aught to employ them in supporting the Pyramids of ancient virtue, or building new ones to it. Since the Sword defends the Pen, it ought to adorn the sword; since the Laurels of the brave and valorous do defend the Muses from the Thunder of their Eenemies, and make them enjoy, in all tranquillity, the shady Groves, and refreshing Rills of their Parnassus; they ought in grateful lays to transmit the achievements of so great Benefactors to all posterity.  Vivitur ingenio Caetera mortis erunt.   

Woman,  
THough Man was made Lord over all beings, and his Empire stretched itself over the whole Globe, though his Imperial redence was in a place which administered all things to his pleasure, and seemed to be the abridgement and quintessence of the Universe; yet he thought his enjoyments imperfect, till he had an help correspondent to his affections, and a fit object for those faculties with which he was endowed. For this cause therefore, woman was Created out of himself, who seemeth to have been his best part; and like that small essence which Chemists extract out of a large, and massive Substance: therefore Man having by his converse with the causes of all things gathered knowledge, is sensible of what they of this Sex are capable; and fearing lest they should Rival him in his Government, imposeth on them, by persuading them that their faculties are not receptive of Arts, and rough Virtues; and by this stratagem consineth them by the administration of a narrow Province, bounded by the walls of their Court, and Garden, whilst he is exercised in the Nobler affairs of the Court and Schools, when it is clear that their inclinations are better than his, and their resolutions greater: for it is observed, they are generally more Virtuous and Devout than we; and when they do deviate to Vice, they are more hardened and persevering in it; the great actions in which they have born a part, speaketh the excellency of their Natures. The Amazons (if we believe story) have excelled in Warr. To Sapph we own the invention of the sweetest kind of Verse in Lirique Poetry. Lucretia by her resolution has raised herself a deathless Monument. And Judith in Sacred Writ is remembered with great Glory. All these example's sh●● the greatness of their parts; which while they do not employ, but are content to forgo all the pleasures with which knowledge would present them; they seem to have made a Salic Law to bind themselves. Did they but consider what an ascendant they have over the souls of men, and that though they were the source of all our miseries, we should still adore them: as also those great advantages outdull, and phlegmatic constitutions own from the purifying flames of Love: they would exert their powers, and launch out of those dark Regions of ignorance in which they sleep, into the bright and Sunny Countries of Knowledge. I offer this, not 〈◊〉 encourage them to rebel against Man, whom God hath made the● head; but to advise them to serve the World under some other Noble Character, and not only to devote themselves to the uses 〈◊〉 Generation. In no Country so many of this fair Sex, as in England exceed in Beauty and Wit. The first of which, the Temperateness of our Climate does much advance, which is in so just a proportion betwixt heat and cold, that it enjoyeth the benefits of both, and feeleth the inconveniencies of neither. If we go towards the South, we find the People still a degree more swarthy; if towards the North, more brawny and gross; built to receive the rude assaults the winds breed there, though of a complexion generally clear enough; that they are ingenuous above those of other countries' is evident from their prudent management of Oeconomical affairs, for on them with us they all rely; which is a great Trust, since the welfare of the State depends upon the health of its Members; the reason of this is, the so frequent and familiar converse they are allowed with men within the bounds of Modesty, which, no people, the French excepted, admits of to such a degree. And certainly in their so great strictness to this Sex, the Italians (those grand Masters of Pollticks) do very much err. For besides the injustice they act in depriving them of that liberty which God, and Nature alloweth them; it is impossible they should ever become more virtuous by being consigned to the melancholy of a Cloister which to deceive the idle hours, must indulge and administer lose thoughts, which with God are equivalent with 〈◊〉; when, it they conversed in the world, they might improve themselves in Knowledge; and the diversions they would receive from the company of others, would keep them from thinking ill so frequently; and Modesty from acting it. And it is most sure, that if ever they can free themselves from those superstitious Fetters of mistaken Devotion; the Flames which have been so long smothered, will burst out with such an impetuosity, and violence, that they will devour all inclinations to Modesty and Virtue, and will never be extinguished in the deepest Abysses of carnal enjoyments.  

The Maid  
IS Nature's Richest Cabinet locked; who yet ardently desires to display those Glories she containeth, and thinketh she hath not the perfect enjoyment of them, if not communicated; when she hath attained to the use of her Organs of Speech, the first word she uttereth after Dad, and Mam, is Husband; who from that time reigneth in her thoughts so much that she maketh it her chief end to captivate him; but if her Sta●● have so little care of her as to let her pass her younger years single rather than to hang longer on the Tree, the too ripe fruit will fall to any man. She, like an expert General, chooseth rather to use stratagem in storming a Fort, then wholly to rely upon her strength, be it never so great; for I never saw that Woman, how fair soever, that was not guilty of those innocent frauds of a patch, or wash, hoping from them for greater accessions of Beauty. In her discourse she commonly traduces the rest of her Sex, and tacitly giveth a rise to applaud herself, which, (though she deserveth not) you must do with the greatest of your powers; for in the state of Love, as well as in the civil one, he is the best Politician who can best dissemble. You cannot imagine what near approaches you make to her affections by these ways, and how really she is taken with you, though you describe her by all the impossibilities of Poetry: when she might soon be undeceived; would she with an impartial Eye consult her Glasses. But yet this Humour, ingraffed in her Nature (which certainly proceeds from the want of a true use of her reason,) if it seemeth to increase with her age; for even those whom many years have seen Virgins, are more vain than the younger ones; and are not to be convinced, but that the same lustre inhabiteth their eyes, which resided in them 30 years before. Hence it is that you see them so solicitous to fill up those furrows which time hath ploughed, and to supply the places of those Teeth which years have ruined, with sorreign ones, and to burnish those eyes which Sixty Suns have dimmed. Her discourse is replenished with the Histories of those she might have had; what proper men she refused, and upon what account she slighted them; and in the conclusion, she will torment your ears with a doleful Sonnet, or heart-melting direful address, composed by some of her cross-armed Lovers, who flourished in Poetry above half a Century before Ben Johnson. She now, (like the old worn Sinner when his powers have left him,) voweth practical Chastity, though her thoughts often transgress, and run into a speculative obscenity. She commonly is at enmity with her elder Brother's wife, who seemeth to grudge her her Annuity; but now she serveth for no other use but to caress those Babies to whom she is a great Aunt; and to give her young Neices instruction; for their behaviour when they are wooed. To mention all her impertinence, were a labour as endless as her own discourse, and altogether as troublesome; I shall therefore Land you upon a new Scene, and present her to your view in the state of Matrimony.   

The Wife.  
SInce the impertinencies of the Maid always continue, and grow up in the Wife, if she be not guided by a natural prudence, he who paints one of them giveth you the full draught of the other: I think it therefore not extrinsique to my Province to lay down some rules for the choice of a Wife; in which great circumspection ought to be used, since by this Union a man either builds his happiness, or misery during life. If my Friend prove false, I can strike a League with another; if my Servant be unfaithful, I can change him; but though my Wife prove so, she must remain mine. Matrimony is a Gordian Knot, which not Alexander can cut. He who intends to enter a double state ought not to choose a Woman only for her Pedigree; if other circumstances are wanting, especially Virtue, his Election is lame; for what was it at first that ennobled her Line but that? and if that Pillar fail, her Escutcheon must needs fall. If her Relations are poor, nothing can fall more unhappily to him, for she will still draw them to be warmed at his fire: Like the Courtier who is not satisfied to beek himself only in the Sunshine of his Sovereign's favour, but will also bring his Kindred within the warmth of his rays; so that whosoever matches here, espouseth not one, but a whole Family. When the Head of the house falls, his dependants by consequence partake of his fortune, and they certainly must be very numerous; the Setting-sun casts the longest shadow. Her pride also will make the blood of her Children run high, which will be their great unhappiness, when they must submit to the universal allay of poverty. What can be more despicable than a Title without the support of an Estate? a man's honour bids him soar to high things, his want forces him to the meanest actions: he is, like a bird upon the wing, to mount whilst a leaden Plummet tied to his Leg keeps him down.  
2. Let not Beauty alone allure any man without internal, or external endowments: She who can boast nothing but good outward features, is like an house adorned without with various Pillars, and Pilasters of several Orders, exquisite Cornices, and neat Carving; but within naked, and without either Orchard, Garden, or Wood: this may treat your eye a while, but it neither administers to the delight of your mind, nor the necessities of your body. She will be a Magnet to draw as well the noble Steel to your house as the ignobler Iron; most comers inquire for you, but be assured their visit is to my Lady. No Woman's virtue in the World (if young) can be so strong a Fort to her, but it may be rendered to the perpetual showers of flattery, and compliment, which play upon it. If she yield to a noble conqueror, you have the honour to march out with your horns in your pocket and flying colours, but never hope to be reinstated in the place you had in her breast.  
3. Let not Riches alone draw any man; for thus he enslaves himself, first to the Gold, and then to the imperious humour of one he hates; who still plague's him with repeating that accession his fortunes received by her, though she commonly hath the chief hand in spending it: whoever then stands thus, must confess himself to be a slave, though bound with a golden Chain, and that the fettered Captive in the deepest Dungeon is more free than he, because however his body is secured, he reserves the Empire of his mind to himself alone.  
Aim not too much at an Heiress, for her defects are notable, and many, Nature commonly sending her into the world rude and unfinished, because she sees Fortune standing ready at her Entry, to polish and adorn her with her gifts; in which the Justice of Heaven in the distribution of blessings to men is evident, since all Graces never meet in one Creature, but every one hath something different which renders it agreeable to the rest: But if your stars seem to direct you this way, you must not, (nor truly can you) address to her in the usual way; for would it not be very gross to assure one who is crooked, lame, thin-faced, il-eyed, that she is fair, beautiful and alluring, but you must bid fair for her to those who menage her (yet within compass, if you would be a saver by your Merchandise, for she is commonly a most extravagant spender) and then you are sure to succeed, especially if she be in the hands of a mercenary Father-in-law.  
4. Nor a let a quick Wit, a good assurance, a good mien, nor the additions of singing, playing, dancing be motives to affection, for they enhance not her value more, but rather make her higher. Whoever hath one, or all of these, and wants Virtue, is like a body well shaped, yet without an arm, a leg, or eye. But since we may not hope to find all these accidents centred in one Subject, more than all Arts and Sciences in one Brain: Virtue is to be chosen naked, before all the other gaily dressed and embroidered. This fair creature is a portion of her sell; 'tis she who fastens a blessing to all her Husbands undertake; 'tis she who though she brings not Riches, yet gathers them; 'tis she who presents him with fair and chaste Children to adorn his Table, and support his age; 'tis she who giveth her King loyal Subjects, and her Country good and just Patriots; 'tis she who in her Beloved's absence shuts her gates to all foreigners, and at his return recreates, and caresses him with chaste embraces, and heals him with balmy kisses; 'tis she who by her prudence sills his Granaries within, whilst he supplies her from without; 'tis she who feeds the Poor, and  the Naked; 'tis she who loves his friends, and hates not, but prays the conversion of his enemies; 'tis her breast which receives his cares, and her lips give him words of joy  
Let no one choose one deformed (if he can avoid it) for it is observed the mind is always of the same shape. A good Inn hath very seldom a bad Signpost. Nature never impresses an ill mark upon her good pieces. This Antiquity knew, when it said, Cave sis ex eo quam Natura sigillaverit. Lose not any other material circumstance in one, for another that is fairer; for the first thing a man neglects in his Wife is her beauty. If it be thought convenient let her be past the Smallpox, for then one seethe the worst of her. Let her be well-shaped, for the neatest built Ship sails best. Above all let her be of the same faith with her Husband; for how can they concur in the menageing of their affairs, who disagree in the way of worshipping their God? If to virtue Heaven will add externa bona, outward goods, be thankful: if it doth not, be not too solicitous to obtain them.   

The Widow,  
EIther hoping for better fortune, if her Husband hath been bad, or if good, desiring to repeat those pleasures he hath been author of to her, is always ready to hold out her hand for new manacles. The Arts by which she menageth her designs are these: she giveth out her sums to be very great, her demeasns large, and her years few, well knowing that no man of fortunes will come on unless upon one of these accounts. The same of these draws perhaps a Lord to her, who protests by her eyes, an Oath with him most sacred, that he loves and honours her above all the world, that she alone disposeth his fate, that it is in her breast to pronounce him the happiest, or most miserable of men; he extols a Complexion which her washeses gave, and swears he adores her eye as radiant, which perhaps is bloodshot; He tells her it sends forth darts, which like to the Pelian Spear, have the power of killing, but like it too, it ought to exercise that of reviving: How long! how long (Madam saith he) is it your pleasure I shall continue in these torments! I were happy might I fall a victim to your graces, for the glory of the action would sweeten the agonies, and convulsions of my death! But oh! let me not live only to yield my heart a prey to keen and tormenting Vultures! But when by these false ways he hath drawn the weak Creature to an assent, and finding the bags not to be of that Volume which he expected, his love vanisheth, and he leaves her in those real Ecstasies which before he feigned.  
This amour is succeeded perhaps by that of the powdered Gallant, who professes and vows to the same degree, if not higher; He saith all that Oroondates could to Statira, or Celadon to Astrea, or Zanger to the Hungarian Queen, superadding, that if the World were his own, he should not have the confidence to ask her to be Empress of it, since it would be so far below her merit: but when he also like a valiant Chevalier hath gained the Castle, and finding the Outworks not worth the holding, he marcheth off with whole volleys of Oaths, cursing his hard fortunes.  
Now after these Ambassadors of Love, and many more of the same Mould have had their Audiences of Congee, she grows more subtle, and so less credulous, and now undeceived, she finds her Eyes have not half that lustre which her Gold hath, and that that, not she hath been their Diana. Being then thus deluded, she grows desperate, and is resolved to embrace the first who offers himself; Now he, (perhaps a younger brother) who before went no farther than the drawing-Room, or Antichamber, is admitted into her Cabinet, and is a jewel she is sure no body will envy her, and therefore proceeds more freely; and it is a very pleasant Scene to behold their carriage. He resolves thus with himself.  
By Heavens I'll tell her boldly it is she:  
Why should she shamed or angry be,  
To be beloved of me?  Mr. Cowley. 
His way is compendious, he tells her he cannot say much, but Dam-him he loveth her, and if she loveth him, why should they not make a match of it. And by this brisk address, (which is certainly more manly and becoming than the other) he carrieth the Prize, and maketh as good use of it. Thus the Widow imitates that Fisherman, who having baited his hook well, angel's all day in hopes of a Salmon, but at last he catcheth a Trout, which though it may not satisfy his avarice so well, yet it doth his appetite.    

The Life of Theodatus.  
I Shall not much illustrate my Subject in laying before you the large Table of Theodatus' Ancestors; Let it suffice to acquaint you that he was well descended; nor will I give you the time of his Birth, or any long relations of his Country (you may fancy him a Citizen of Utopia, or Nova-Atlantis,) since the only design of this Essay is to present in his person the Idea of an exactly accomplished Gentleman. I shall therefore trace him through every Stage of his Life, and begin at his first years, when he laid the foundation of his future glories.  
Know then, that at the accustomed years he was sent to School, and there proceeded in the same method with the rest of his Country, till he had attained to a good knowledge in the Latin and Greek Tongues; from whence about the fourteenth year of his age he was removed to the University, where he with a great deal of pleasure, and no less serious industry addressed himself to the Muses; well knowing, that their favours, as well as those of other Mistresses, were not to be obtained but by many and hard services. According to the Custom of the place he began his studies in Philosophy, he soon knew the most knotty maxims, and unriddled the greatest Sophisms, and Subtleties of Logic; he had considered, and laid up all the precepts of the Moralists, he was acquainted with all the principles of Physics, and had comprehended all those notions of the Metaphysician, which he could adjust to the Rule of Right Reason. When he had throughly considered the natures of all these, he found that they were sine Ideas, that they commended the ingenuity of the ancient Schools and Porch; that perhaps they might frame his head to discourse or argue plausibles, but that they were too speculative to be useful to him in the necessities and emergencies of life: therefore he left off to intent those studies as he was wont, (yet he did not wholly lay them aside) and applied himself to History, and the most useful parts of Mathematics, as Geometry, and those two main Pillars of History, Chronologie and Geography; he knew that from these noble Records he might gain useful Rules of living, and not such as the Ethics of the Philosophers give upon trust, but such as have been confirmed by many great examples; that he might here see the several ends of Virtue and Vice, the encouragements of the one, and the infamy of the other; he might here read the praises of heroic and just Cato's, and view the Monuments built to their Memories; and here behold the misfortunes and fates of ambitious Caesar's and Pompey's, the Panegyrics of chaste and virtuous Lucretia's, and the infamy of lascivious and wanton Julia's; here the redoubted actions of those mighty souls who have fought in their Country's defence, and fallen victims in securing its Altars and Gods will make him emulous, and raise him to affect equal attempts, whilst the ill success of those who have invaded the rights of others, maketh him to detest their practices; here he might see that truth would exert herself, and that those who have suffered unjustly would be revenged: In fine he might see Virtue crowned, and Vice punished. Now what greater argument or motive can there be than this, to embrace the one, and abhor the other?  
From Mathematics he learned that all bodies had longitude, latitude, and profundity, that the two first qualities were obvious to every eye, but the latter was only to be seen by search, which he applied himself to, and would never be satisfied till he had learned to value every thing as it really was, and not as what it seemed to be; he, like other men, was not contented with a Problem which shown him such a thing was, but looked for Theorems, which told him how, and why: In sine, he found such demonstrations in this Learning, that he could never be satisfied till he had the same in every thing, which he gained by examining its privatest recesses, and corners; so by this means he became so acquainted with the constitution of all things, that only Nature herself could be more so. Having remained here till about the 18th year of his age, where his amiable mien and generous carriage had gained him the applause of all: he passes to the Colleges of the Law to acquaint himself with the sanctions and constitutions of his own Nation; being satisfied that no man could serve the Body Politic under any Character unless he fully understood its humours and complexions. He fixed himself closely to these studies, (though he did not neglect the healthful exercises of his body) and about the 22th year of his age he attained to a full knowledge of them. At this time he left his Native Country, and passed into those foreign parts which were most famed for Civility, Arts and Arms; and here he did not, as the youth of his time, pass cursorily through a Country, and gaze only upon its Steeples, and fine Houses, but like the Wise and Eloquent Ulysses.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Hom. Odyss. ●. 
He of each Country had the Cities seen,  
And understood the Manners of her Men.  
He made useful remarks upon their Laws and Customs, he inquired to what studies they were most addicted, how they were provided and situated for War and Peace, how they stood affected to their Neighbours; he searched into their Military Discipline, their way of Training and Exercising their Soldiery, and their Arts of fortifying Towns, Citadels, and Castles; he got an acquaintance with the chief Statesmen, and the learnedst in all Professions in all Countries through which he travailed, and if he could, he made himself known to their several Princes, and when he thought fit, he settled a Correspondence with most of these; he made himself Master of all those Languages which his Country affected; he marked the humours of every Coast, and observed their way of Compliment, and Address, their method in business, and their proceed in Justice; there was nothing which could adorn his mind that he passed. Thus fraught with all manner of knowledge about his 25th year he returned, and received with their admiration, the love of all his Countrymen.  
He never enterprised any thing in which that excellent prudence did not show itself, which had taught him to consult well, to deliberate maturely, to judge and determine rightly, to conduct and execute resolutely. He knew this virtue was the square and rule of all affairs, and the only guide to living well: He used to say, she was with reason enthroned above all the other Virtues, and that the Sceptre which she swayed as their Empress did of right belong to her: for without her government Justice herself might be misapplyed, and become dangerous to her Clients; Fortitude would be no more than a brutish Valour, and the strong man would kill and slay without the consideration of a good Cause, and Temperance might degenerate into a superstitious forbearance of all sustenance, and necessary support, and so make the practiser of it accessary to his own ruin, by her we know what, to choose as good, and convenient for life, and what to reject as superfluous and hurtful to it; by her we have the pleasure to be assured that we have not failed in the right using of the means, however our business may succeed ill. He would never judge of any thing by its success, since he saw the best men unfortunate, and the worst rewarded: He would never trust too much to any worldly power, since Fortune or Fate (use the words as you please) did maintain an Empire so sovereign and arbitrary over the best laid Counsels, and most cautiously contrived designs; and since her inconstancy is such, that that man whom she hath raised to such a height this day that he seemeth her Darling, to morrow she maketh him so miserable, that he may seem to be her sport and scorn. It is she who sports herself with our most sage contrivances, and laughs in the face of the most serious-looking Councillor, and tells him his hopes are vain: It is she who tells the Chemist after the labour of many years he shall never gain his Elixir, and breaketh his Crucible before his face, even in that moment when he thought her greatest Artillery could not batter his designs: It she who advanceth an Achitophel or Machiavelli to honour, to affront Virtue. In fine, she is an Ocean without limits, and will suffer none to be put to her but by Prudence, whose Character take in the words of Charron the Parisian, Toutesfois elle est de tel poids, & necessité, qu'elle seule peut beaucoup: & sans elle tout le reste n'est rien; non seulement les richesses', les moyens, la force. Vis consilii expers mole ruit sua. Mens una sapiens plurium vicit manus. Et multa, quae natura impedita sunt consilio expediuntur, etc. Charron en Liv. III. Dela sagesse.  
He took not his Religion from his Father, or Country, (as most do) nor sucked it in with the milk of his Mother, but examined all Faiths throughly, and chose that which he thought most consonant to reason, and which gave the greatest Honours to the Divinity. He never sordidly gave his assent to any Opinion out of fear, or for any other consideration but Truth. He would not say a Piece was good because it was Titian's, or Tintaretts, unless he found something in it which convinced his judgement of its worth. In conversation he was always courteous and affable, not imposing his opinion upon any Magisterially or Dogmatically; but if it admitted of any dispute he calmly discoursed it, and was glad to be informed of truth from any mouth. When he saw any one not of equal experience with him he was pleased to inform him, and side with him against those rougher natures who would play upon him, and hope to raise the repute of their own parts upon his simplicity. He was far from the pedantry of those who vaunt their knowledge and relate their Voyages in all Company: He was not one who would make himself known at first, nor told them all he knew presently. He was long in making a friendship, but when it was once ratified, no body was more true than he, and he would be always sure to make Virtue its Basis. Nothing he detested more than their humour who boast of their Vices, who tell when they are drunk, or when at a Bawdy-house, and said, since Nature commanded those offices to be done in the dark, it is impudence above comparison to vaunt of them in public. No one was juster than he both to himself, and to his Neighbour. He said, that the rise of all justice is from the subduing of a man's appetite, and unless he had made his reason Plenipotentiary over it to bring it to due obedience, he could not without blushing rebuke any man for his crime.  
His constancy of Temper was great; he received all outward things with an even indifferency; his soul was never elevated by the caresses of prosperity above its genuine temper, nor dejected by the frowns of adversity below it. His valour (which is properly the strength of the soul, as fortitude is of the body) gave him an assurance to meet all difficulties (however great) with a generous and severe gallantry, and made him always ready to achieve those things which others would have fled from. This Virtue is of proof against all accidents; it arms a man cap-a-pee against all, even the roughest assaults. Munimentum imbecilitatis humanae inexpugnable: quod qui circumdedit sibi, securus in hac vitae obsidione perdurat. Senec. This Virtue (as some fancy) is not only confined to the Military Profession; for however that may be more pompous and gaudy, yet it is not so genuine and perfect. For I pray tell me, is not he of a greater courage who can with patience receive the sharpest accosts of a Chronical disease, who can open his breast, and uncover his head to the fiercest darts of misery without repining, only because his inward light tells him he ought not to spurn against the will of Heaven; then he who is led into an Army perhaps by a desire of revenge, or of prey, and is forced to sight, because if he doth not, there are so many to witness his cowardice. This (if it be a Virtue) is common to all, to the King and Peasant, nay even to beasts too, and hath not the least principle or tincture of truly Moral Philosophical valour. The other is not an inconsiderate rashness, but before it enterpriseth any thing, it considereth the reasonableness and justice of it; it runneth not suddenly into danger, but only defends itself, and when it doth assault, it is upon a good and just account; nor yet doth it despise any, even the smallest danger, but hindereth it, (if it can) from growing greater. It also holds itself obliged to defend the injured and oppressed, and in their service will sacrifice itself freely. He always said they much to blame, who gave way to the humour of an impudent vaunting Thraso, who by an insolent deportment, and sierce countenance, or high expression thinketh to acquire the name of valiant and brave, and to be the Cock of all them with whom he converses; for by yielding to him one giveth him to believe he really is that, which a brisk carriage would assure him he is not; for he resembleth a fierce and swollen billow which cometh rolling down amain, as if it would overwhelm the rock which stands in its way, but by its firmness it is broken, and submissively glideth away at its feet.  
As his Prudence, his Justice, his Valour were great; so also was his Temperance. He was afraid to drink too deep of pleasure lest he might surfeit and vitiate his Palate. He said he was most pleased when Heaven allayed his joys with some sorrows, and that it would be the greatest affliction to have none. He knew those who eat greedily might be satiate, but not satisfied, and knew it was the curbing of his appetite which kept it at once in obedience and in health. He always avoided extravagancy in apparel, and said the man should adorn that, not that him. He used severely to declare against drinking, and said that a Drunkard suffered many ways; for besides his laying himself open to the rogueries, and over-reachings of those with whom he conversed, every man that he met might discover his nature by the face, as when one sees a Bush he knows wine is there; He could not be reconciled to those who by wine thought to advance their natural fancies, and enrich their sentiments: He said in the heat of it a man might say extraordinary things, but yet he might have said those when he was sober better if his modesty would have given him leave, but in that condition one vents all, even the most extravagancies. It most certainly ruins all a man's parts as well as his body; for however he may have some fancies remain which may make him acceptable in ordinary converse, yet the main is gone: as when Palace is burnt, there may here and there perhaps remain a piece of a guilded roof, or an embroidered Canopy, they may serve to show what Glories have been there, but they will neither defend the unfortunate owner from Rain or Snow. He said, every man, when he was alured by any pleasure, aught to consider not how far he desired to enjoy it, but how far he ought; and that he was sure it was a greater and more transcendent pleasure to subdue an inordinate affection then to gratify it, that it took off the boilings of our feverish blood, and rendered us more capable of more solid joys in those calm and temperate Regions of eternal bliss, when our souls are divested of their grosser vehicles. He was always more solicitous for his Country's good than his own, and always preferred that to his own advantage. He always looked upon the King as his head; between which and the members there ought to be a good correspondence, because one cannot subsist without the other. He was not of the mind of those Courtiers who serve their Prince only for reward, but he thought it reward enough to serve him. His counsels were always wholesome, and healing, and he always was against invading any man's right: He advised that his Country might be always prepared, and ready to take up arms; for he said, that either hindered an Invasion or a Surprise; nay, he said they ought to make peace with swords in their hands, for so they might command good terms. He not only by these ways gained the affections of his King (but what is seldom seen) of the Court also. He never censured nor judged any man's actions unless upon very good grounds; for he knew he ought not to do it unless he was free from all those vices he accused him of; and he was sure that every one sets himself to examine the actions of such a man, and makes every his least fault of greater bulk than really it is; for if Ishmael's hand was up against every man, it was but just that every man's hand should be up against him. He was not of those who extolled their own actions above justice, and think all fancy, ingenuity and judgement to be confined to them, or their relations; for he knew they raised the expectations of all for greater things than they could perform; but he gave Virtue her due applause where ever he found her, and was so far from traducing, or detracting from any man, that he sought to hid his faults, and conceal his infirmities: He knew the world too well either to confide in it, or love it: if he had any thing that we call a blessing conferred upon him he took it en passant, and valued it but as a little convenience which might support him in his way to Jerusalem above. He never affected Honour or Preferment, which he said were Mounts which indeed yielded a fair prospect, whilst the rays of the King's favour played about them; but if they did shine once another way, a man would certainly break his neck down. He never did any thing for applause, which he said no wise man would be delighted with, since it risen from the people who are Judges of nothing that is generous, or brave. When he grew aged, he could do that which few or none of his time could; he could take a prospect backward of his whole Life with a great deal of delight; he saw no vices in it which could render it hilly, or black, but all fair Lawns, spruce Meadows, and gentle Rivulets. It was his desire to have no costly Marble over his body but only a plain Stone with this Inscription. 
Theodatus from Earth to Heaven's removed.  
Who loved fair Virtue, and of her was loved.  He said the greatest Emperor ought to have no longer an Epitaph, because if his Virtue would not build him a Monument which might transmit his name to posterity, he ought to desire to be forgotten. Thus than he surrendered his fair Soul when he was full of fame and years, after he had long been the Joy of the Virtuous, the Delight of the Court, and the Oracle of the State.   

Three Novels.  
THe last Summer three or four Gentlemen of good quality went some few day's journey out of the populous City of London to recreate themselves, and to breathe the air of the Country, and by the exercises of it, to dispel those gross humours which had gathered in their bodies arising from a full diet, and an unactive life: They passed a few days very pleasantly in hunting, hawking, fishing; and because the night should have its pleasure too, they resolved that every one in order should entertain the rest with a Novel, and they agreed (as being the most equal way) that fortune should point out him who should begin the course: the Lot fell to Cassander, and he, after he had with much modesty excused himself, and told the Company that he was sensible how unfit he was to administer such a Province, bespoke them thus.  

The Land-Mariners.  
IT is not long since in a considerable City of France the Inhabitants did celebrate a great Festival with much jubilee, and mirth; and that the approach of the night might not give an end to it, after the solemnities of the Bonfires, and Fireworks, some of the Youth (Sons to the chief Burgesses) in order to the prosecution of their design resorted to a Tavern, and there that they might be farther from the ears of the people, they made choice of an higher room; here the Bowls were crowned with wine, their conceits with wit, and the night with all manner of jollity, but half of it was not spent when the brisker spirits of their wine began to mutiny in their heads, and to wage war against their reasons, so that at last the floods of it which they had poured in made them fancy themselves to be upon real ones at sea, and their Chamber to be a Ship cruelly tossed upon them, and their reeling and falling made them suppose themselves in a great deal of danger, so that they thought the only way to the Haven of security, was to disburden their Vessel of all its Cargo, that it might with more agility play upon and comply with the billows before the Storm; they now begun to throw their Tables out of the Window, with their Stools and Doors, and all the House-hold-stuff; with these they had almost brained some of those who passed by; they immediately repair to the Magistrate, and acquaint him with the Riot, and desire his assistance to suppress it; he gives his Warrant to his Sergeant to search for, and apprehend them; he accompanied with other Officers finds, and seizeth them: at his entrance some of the Company, (who had it is possible read the Poets when they were at School) with a great deal of joy imagine him (because he carried a great stick) to be Neptune, and those with him his Tritons come to their succour; one of them therefore, who had all night had the head of the Table, and to whom the rest of the Board seemed to pay some reverence, stood up with the help of his Chair, and with a great deal of submission addressed himself to him in these words: Great Neptune! at this the Sergeant seemed much incensed, (as being a man not much understanding humour) and grew very brief with him, & would in that instant have carried him away, because he called him out of his name; but one who it seems was a wittier brother than the rest, desired Mr. Serjeant to forbear a while, because he thought there might be something of conceit in this encounter, so that he gave him liberty, and he proceeded. Great Divinity of the Seas! thou art come most opportunely to the relief of the most miserable and distressed of all those whom the large Canopy of Heaven doth cover! for ever since we entered the Borders of thy Empire, we have been tossed with cross and impetuous Winds, (meaning the Weights of the Town who played upon Cornets and Haut-bois) which have so enraged thy subjects the waves against us, that they have sometimes mounted us above the greatest heights of Tenarif, and again have thrown us so low, that we might have plucked Coral, or have snatched thy Thetis from thy arms! In this condition we have been forced to cast overboard our richest Lading, and to send those pearls into those abysses again, from whence with so much hazard they have been taken; we have wandered through unknown and perilous Regions without a Pilot or a Rudder (meaning the door which before they had plucked off the hinges) and without having touched upon any Land but Shelves or Sand-beds, and without the guidance of that Cynosure which shines out bright to the rest of the happy Countries of thy Empire! (meaning the Candle which before was extinguished) This makes us implore the mighty aid of thy arm and Trident,— and here he had almost saluted Mr. Sergeants feet, but by help being recovered, he saith— and even now methinks the whole Ocean is but one great Whirlepool, and all the Earth like our Vessel in it— (with that one of the Company disembogueth) Behold, saith he, Great King, the Terrors of those Eddies! (with this another dischargeth) behold again those continued Alps, and Appennines of waves! Then by chance looking out of the Window he espies the Multitude, (who always upon such an occasion enter consultation) gathered about the doors; then saith he— Behold with terror (Oh my Companions in misery) those scaly Citizens attending the motions of their Great King standing with open mouth to receive us!— all of them even from the Prince Leviathan to the Peasant Crab! at these words the Orator's tongue as well as feet failed him, and he lay prostrate, and speechless; another attempted to proceed, but he was found soon in the same predicament, so that now the Sergeant who in his nature was no great Judge or admirer of wit posted them (because it was too late to carry them before the chief Officer) to the Cage which usually stands near the Market-cross: when they arrived there, they thanked the great Divinity because he had heard their prayers, and brought them to a safe Harbour. He left them there like Vlysses' Companions under the Charms of the Witch Circe, discharging their stomaches as if they had been really sea-sick. You may imagine that in this condition, sleep (without saying Prayers, or using any formal Ceremonies) soon crowned their Temples, and bound them fast till the Sun through the wide slits and crannies of their Chamber played upon their eyelids, and most of the Infantry of the Town, at the Window of their Antichamber, advised them that it was time to wake. Some of them had not yet recovered their reason, and those in whom it dawned by the illness of their lodging, and the over-charge of nature, were not able to hold up their aching heads. In a little time most of them recovered, and guessed by the place where they were, (retaining some notion of it) at the nature of their offence; most of them were struck with a deep remorse for the crime, and all of them were deeply touched with the infamy of it; they therefore unanimously petitioned the Magistrate for enlargement, and withal submitted to what punishment he thought good to inflict upon them. Upon this they were released, and carried before him, where after he had given them a full account of their riot, with all the aggravating circumstances he might, and told them the ill consequences of this example, because their qualities kept them from the usual punishment of this vice, he thought good to command the last night's Orator to give the others in a set Harangue the inconveniences of Drinking, which he did after some recollection, (as near as I can remember my Author's terms) in these words.  
When we cloud our Reason, and envelope it in mists, what do we but turn ourselves into those brute animals from which (as Heaven's great Characteristic) it distinguisheth us? Into what horrors of darkness do we throw ourselves, when we extinguish that light which should conduct us through the many intricate Passages and Maeanders of this world! How unhappy are we since we make that which by a moderate use would give us a glad countenance, by an excess make us sad! I suppose most of you before this time, Gentlemen, are sensible of the effects of our last night's voyage; and truly, whoever is a lover of this vice can be compared to nothing more fitly than a seafaring man, who daily exposeth himself and his fortunes to the rage of the billows and winds, whose condition is often so desperate, that he despairs of a Port unless the hand of Providence steereth him to it: so he layeth his fortunes, his secrets prostrate at the feet of any Rogue, and putteth himself into his mercy; which dangers, if he escape, it is by the care of Providence, and the conduct of his kinder stars. If we gravely reflect upon this action, how many things shall we find we have to blush for! and how many lives we have endangered besides our own! How many days must we pass in penance for these few hours pleasure! Think whatever extravagancies we have committed we must dearly answer them, a man cannot plead he was not himself, since he laboured under a voluntary madness. What sad remembrances doth this Morning bring to us? and what would we not give to expiate our crime? Alexander that Great Conqueror being once overcome with these spirits, killed his dearest friend Clitus, and when he understood it, would needs have sacrificed himself to his Manes. This one vice opens to us a deluge of others; it prepares us to kill a King, or burn a City; to murder a Brother, or betray a Friend. But yet we see men contending with a strict vigour and earnestness, as if they were to gain an Olympic Prize, to conquer one another at this weapon, whilst he who carries the Palm is obliged to converse with those whom he hath transformed into Beasts, and at last is forced to submit himself to its powers. Seneca gives you the effects of Wine in the person of Mark Anthony, of whom he speaketh thus. M. Antonium, Magnum virum, & ingeni● nobilis, quae alia res perdidit, & in externos mores, & vitia non Romana rapuit quam Ebrietas, nec minor vino Cleopatra amor? Haec illum res hostem Reipublicae, haec hostibus suis imparem reddidit, haec crudelem fecit, cum capita Principum civitatis coeanti referrentur, cum inter apparatissimas epulas luxusque regales, ora ac manus proscriptorum recognosceret, cum vino gravis sitiret tamen sanguinem, etc. Ep. Lxxxiii. Add to this, that it infeebleth the nerves, looseneth the limbs, infects the breath, vitiateth the complexion, and renders the whole body, as well as mind, useless to one's Country, or Friend. I hope now your own experience, and my arguments (whatever they may be) have made you sensible enough of your crime, and will persuade you to applaud the care of providence, which hath brought you to an haven where reason, or your Palinurus, was drowned; and I hope you will never again attempt such a voyage, though gales never so fair, or seas never so calm invite you.   

NOVEL II. Friendship sublimed.  
By Lot Theogenes was to entertain them the second night, who, after paying some civilities to Cassander's Relation, began thus;  
IF some of those beauteous Towns which crown the fertile Banks of the Loire exceed Tours in elegancy of structure, none of them come near it for commodiousness, and pleasantness of situation: (Tourin, the Country about it being called by way of excellence, Le Jardin die France) The sweetness of the air, and the other conveniences of the place ofttimes have brought people thither to enjoy them; and amongst many others a Gentleman of that Country, of a noble Family, and ample fortunes, was resolved with his Wife and Family to reside there for a Summer-season. He had been blest with a fair and ingenious Offspring; but above the rest his eldest Daughter, who was named Charlotte, was fair and chaste, and as well for the beauties of body, as mind, had scarce an equal, but no superior over all France: She had not continued here long before her eyes produced their usual effects, and captivated all men in the place, and brought them to be either admirers, or lovers; and what is more, the women (who commonly like men of a Profession, envy and decry one another) became Proselytes to her Virtues, and owned, that not only themselves, but all whom they had seen were much inferior to her; and if she had not Adorers from all parts of the Nation, it was not because her Graces could not charm them, but because her fame had not yet reached them.  
This new Flame which invaded the Town, spurred on the Youth to little Gallantries, and Gentilesses more than before, and made them more earnest in their Tilt, and Justs; and more splendid too, each striving to go beyond the other, as well in his Horses, his Habits, and Caparisons, as in the dextrous and graceful menage of his Weapon: and every man endeavoured the best he could to make himself (according to the then modish term) the least unworthy of her; and whoever could but gain a smile, or a glance from her, won a Prize of greater value to him than the wealth of Peru, or Mexico.  
Of all those who with so much earnestness courted her favours, no one had it or deserved it more than young Duke Perrot, who removed from Paris thither some months before, for the sake of the air: he was a man wellborn, and of good fortunes, and one who it is possible would not have been discouraged by her Parents, if he had by them addressed himself to her. But though he looking through the glass of modesty could not see himself so well regarded as he was, and wanted that assurance which he justly might have had; yet he did not fail to show himself to her upon all occasions, in the best equipage he could, either at the running at the Ring, and those kind of sports armed en Cavalier, or upon the Mall, or at the Balls, where he constantly had the honour to dance with her; which Exercises he performed with an extraordinary mien; he embraced all opportunities of discourse with her, and, in fine, he used all means by which he might endear himself to her: so that at last, she, though young, being not altogether insensible of love, and knowing that though she was so universal a Conqueror, she might, when closely besieged, yield to a noble Assailant upon good terms without dishonour; began to cherish, and foment, and indeed to be pleased with her growing flame; and now she gave him liberty freely to entertain her publicly upon every occasion, and had pretty well learned the language of the eyes, (for in love they speak much) so that now the fame of their affections was spread through the Town, which begot her Lover a great many Rivals: he notwithstanding these public favours, in private had hitherto kept his distance; (though the truth is, those kindnesses which he received from her, which proceeded from the wants of that cunning, and counterfeit reservedness of those, who bred at Courts, would have made men of less prudence and caution, to have more hastened their address) but now he was no longer able to dally with those flames which he so long had stood so near, and which now had scorched him so severely: he therefore resolves one day to go to her father's house, pretending a visit to him, but with an intention to open himself to her; when he arrived there, he found according to his desires, both him and her Mother from home, and being advised that she was alone in the Garden, he enters it, where after having received her pardon, which he asked for invading her privacy, and which she easily granted, to one for whom she had so great an esteem, she entertained him thus, perhaps to divert that discourse which she apprehended he would begin, Monsieur Du Perrot (said she) just as you appeared at the end of this Walk, I was putting away the hours with Cassandra, and I was just in that part of it where Statira dealt so cruelly with the brave Oroondates when he first discovered his love to her, and I was accusing her very much both of ingratitude, and incivility. Madam (replied he) this argues a great deal of compassion in your nature, to pity the past afflictions of those whom many Centuries of years have seen dead; and this may make him who hath the honour to wear your chains, hope a good return to his passion from so high agenerosity of mind: Certainly (continued she) no body, without great injury to themselves, can with severity repulse a man, who, like Oroondates, comes encircled with all the advantages of Birth, of Fortunes, of Education, whose head was crowned with all the honours, and wreaths of Peace, and whose Shield Fortune had hung thick with all the favours of war; It is sure Madam (returned he) that she was to blame, when she exercised so great a severity towards him; but yet it was not only upon the account of his birth, and achievements, that he deserved her love; for if those must only weigh, no one but an Oroondates can ever pretend to a Mistress' affection: but her fault lay in not receiving his so great passion, his so true affection with an equal one; nor by saying this, do I disallow but Oroondates was as great an example of heroic gallantry, as the world ever produced; but yet I must say, if other men are not so famed as he, it is not because they want his parts or Courage, but because those opportunities which he had, are not offered them to exert them. There is no one who loves (answered she) who can want a subject for his Gallantry; for he will range the world for adventures, by which he may render himself acceptable to her whom he adores. * Madam, (pressing her hand, and kissing it) if Love will require such services, no body shall go farther than Du Perrot to perform them, if his fair Charlotte command him; Sir (retorted she) pulling away her hand with much indignation, I never understood that love was an effect of friendship before; if I admitted you to some familiarity upon the account of the latter, I did not expect it could have produced the former; but since you so grossly misconstrue my actions, know that Charlotte hath no thoughts which may not be arraigned before the strictest Tribunal of Virtue, and appear chaste even though Lucretia herself sat Judge there. Having said this, she turned into another walk which led to a Grotta, where she continued most part of the day, leaving him in the highest agonies which slighted love (the greatest of misfortunes) could produce. He stood long unmoved in very great disorders, till at last recovering his reason a little, and, considering where he was, he found it unsafe for his affairs, either to pursue her, or to stay longer in that place, where he might soon be discovered by her Father or Mother, who used to pass the Evening there. He therefore retired to his Lodging, where he spent the night in very great inquietudes. In the Morning De La Hire (one for whom he had entertained a very great affection, and whose accomplishments did indeed deserve it) according to his custom enters his Chamber, where he found him in an humour contrary to that he expected; for whereas before unasked he was wont to relate to him the adventures of the preceding day, he could now scarce procure one answer to a great many questions; he than began to accuse him, and tell him, that by this reservedness he would at once both lose his friendship, and assistance: he told him on the contrary, that if he would be free, nothing should be too hard for him to undertake to accommodate him; that his fortune and his blood should weigh little with him, if at their expense he might procure his advantages: he conjured him by all their sacred oaths, their mutual vows and protestations, after he had long thus pressed him, and found that the true source of his distemper was a Mistress, he thought to have driven it away by raillery, telling him, he imagined that he had known better things than to desire to be teathered in one place of the Common, when he might have the liberty of the whole, that he would soon be weary of his one dish, though a Bisque or an Oglio, if he fed of it every day. But he found these not at all specifique, and that his  now so much out of temper disgusted all things which it desired before; he now perceived his Friend languishing, and pining, and to his great grief, almost grown out of his knowledge in 24 hours; so that he saw he was now to apply himself seriously to his affairs, and to labour his recovery by the best means he could; but before he undertook any thing, he consulted Du Perrot, and desired his instructions how he might serve him; he found him loath to give Charlotte any farther trouble; but upon consideration it was found, an application to her was requisite. De La Hire resolves to wait upon her to know her resolution. It was not difficult for him to find an opportunity, for that very Afternoon upon a visit he made to her Father, with other Company, he took the occasion to divert her, where after a little discourse he told her, that that affection which his Friend had entertained for her he was sure was as true as ever any was, and as pure as the flames which ascend from Altars to those Heavens which behold and revenge all injustice, and will see that it shall have those returns, and be crowned with that success which it merits: did you but see in him, Madam (continued he) the effects of your own severity, what a Skeleton he is as well in mind as body; how meager and withered he is, who before was one of Nature's choicest Pieces; and how dejected and mean that soul is now, which before breathed nothing but generous and mighty things, you would (if any pity inhabit your breast) weep, and weep so incessantly, that your tears should never end till you became like him: Ah Madam (proceeded he) if your love may not, let your generosity at least save a great Soul for whom all France will be beholden to you. Thus he laid open to her the height of his merit, omitting nothing that his friendship could dictate, or his own virtues could challenge. He found her words wary, and containing a whole resignation of herself to her Father's will, which was only to lock or open her breast alone. Though these answers spoke indifferency, and seemed cold, yet any body might perceive a flame through them; and that by them she only hinted to Du Perrot what way to proceed. De La Hire pretty well pleased with this, hastens to his friend's Lodging to unload himself, where he found him very disconsolate, and wholly given up to thoughts: at his entrance he wore the most cheerful looks he could put on, which a little encouraged his Friend too; and then at once he satisfied his expectations and doubts, with the best construction that her words would bear, and gave him so much comfort, that in a little time he began to recover his former condition, and at last he grew very well by the applications of his best Physician, Hope. In which state we will leave him, and turn our Pen to another more comical, but no less adventurous Amour.   

NOVEL III. The Friendly Rivals.  
AT this time a  and a Fleming were in the same Pension in the Town, and had struck a great Ligue of Friendship; the victorious darts of the God of Love, pointed with rays taken from Charlotte's eyes, pierced at once the hearts of both of them (so united were their fates) even through those mighty ramparts of Fat which did defend them. They now refined, by these new kindled flames altered their customs and dress; they greased not their  so much, and appeared oftener in clean Linen: but though they became more gay, yet there was a kind of tawdriness in their Habits, which distinguished them from the rest of Mankind; for they would wear their Laces with deeper, their Swords longer, their Points bigger than the Mode; they would daub their heads with a whole pot of Jasmine at once, and then show a pound of powder above it; and in fine, they would do every thing in excess, because they loved so; a day did not pass in which they walked not by her window three or four times, and when she took the air, her shadow did not more surely attend her than they; they were sure to gain an acquaintance with all those over the Town, who kept the doors of the Ballets, and then would behold their Goddess from the foot of the room: this she observed at last, and seeing them Fellows so despicable, she thought without injury to her reputation, that she might make her advantage of the humour, and improve it to very good sport: In order to this, wheresoever she met them, she failed not to give some mark of her affection, either by unvailing, or a nod, or smile, which they both received with mighty ecstasies, and each took to himself; for the Germane was sure she could never affect so ugly a fellow as the Fleming, and he on the other side thought that such a rough-cast piece of Nature as the Germane could never gain her; so that they, though Rivals, continued very good friends, and would never part, for they carried one another about for foils. Thus they were both extremely pleased, but grew now very impatient to have some nearer proofs of that affection which they were both already assured of: they could not imagine how they should introduce themselves, for though their follies had made them known enough to the Daughter, they were altogether strangers to the Father; (for indeed they were fellows so inconsiderable, that no body of degree took notice of them) yet one of them at last discovered that a Maid who served in their Pension, was acquainted with Cleorin, Charlotte's Woman, one who had all the cunning and subtleties of her sex, and therefore the fittest in the world to cajole these fellows; and she was the fit too, because she had heard something from her Mistress of their humour: They won by some small gift this Wench to their party, and ordered her to see if she could persuade her to meet two Gentlemen at a Tavern that afternoon, who though unknown to her, yet had something to discover which might turn to her advantage: You may think this had been an uncouth proposition to her if the Messenger, who was privy to the whole design, had not discovered it to her; she than gave her promise, being assured of booty, and at the hour of three she failed not to meet at the place appointed, and there she met the two Lovers who had expected her a while with some impatience. When they begun to open the affair to her, she seemed to wonder with what confidence they could propose to her to betray her Lady, she told them, offering to go away, that she expected an entertainment answering their message, something which might have been her advantage; but now on the contrary, they offered that which would not only ruin her fortune, but her reputation, which she valued much more: for all this, a little time being passed, and some few promises on their side made, she seemed to incline to them, and at last was wholly won. They then proceeded to discover themselves, but still one obstructed the other in his story: she demanded how it was possible she could serve them both? for her Lady had but one heart, and since that could not be divided, it could belong but to one of them: they, both assured of success, agreed of one answer, assuring her, that whensoever Charlotte should declare for one, the other in that moment would desist. This seemed very satisfactory to all; they only now desired to know the time and place, when and where they might attend Charlotte's decisive sentence. She said she could not answer to that, till she knew her orders in it; she therefore at present begged their pardon, and assured them, that before the night of the next day she would send to their Confident at their Lodging her Lady's resolution. At her departing each gave her five Pistols; but the Germane slips out after her, (which the other saw, and was much pleased with it, thinking he might spare his pains since she was surely his) and desires her in particular to represent his affection to her Lady, and to give her that Letter, and if she could, to procure an answer to it; and withal he presented her a Diamond Ring, which she willingly accepted, and promised her endeavours: The Fleming at his return seemed to chide him, and told him, he feared he had done him ill offices, and then running out, gave her a Letter, and desired the same, giving her five Pistols more, and then gained the same promises. But now you must imagine them something impatient till the arrival of the wished for hour; but though this time they could not see her, yet she remained a constant object to their minds. they employed the rest of the day, according to the custom of Romantic Heroes, of whom they had read in Poetry, and composed many Sonnets & acquaint Anagrams (as most agreeable to their capacities) which after the discovery of the Amour, made very good sport about the Town: but I shall omit to set them down here, because their numbers are so Gothick and Barbarous, that they were more fit to be sung to a Trumpet than a Lute. But now the time and the Letter at once arrived, directed to both, which contained these words,  
AS soon as the Moon appears come to the back door of the Garden, opening to the River, which shall be unlocked to receive you, and there when her affection will force her to declare herself, you may behold the blushes of  
CHARLOTTE.  
You need not doubt but they observed their time to a moment; for they had been walking by the river near the place an hour or two before, and just as their fortunate Planet began to shine out, they made their entrance there with as much joy as if it had been Paradise, and expected as great felicities as it could afford. The Germane (though it was disputed, because they believed the presence of their Mistress) by the Privileges of his Nation, as the Subject of an Emperor, took the door; but he had not walked many paces till he found himself in a pit above the middle, and a ring of iron close clasped about him with a lock, which he could by no means open, and held him so fast, that he could not move any part downwards. He implored the assistance of his Companion, who refused it him, and said he would not slight that opportunity which his good Angel had presented him to make him known without a Rival to his Mistress, and so left his poor friend in great distress. But he had not gone six paces forward before he retracted his former unkindness, and made it yield to generosity, and resolved to rescue him; but in his return within two yards of the same place, to his great grief, he found himself in the same predicament. Then it was that they employed the whole force of their eloquence in abusing one-another; and because they were not near enough to strike, they battered themselves with the weapons which the foil afforded, till they had spent all the gravel near them. Their rage now with their artillery ceased, and they thought it much better to unite their forces against those who had deceived them, than to contend betwixt themselves. When they were in these thoughts, Charlotte and her Maid of a sudden issued out of a neighbouring Grove, clad like good spirits (though they proved not so to them) all in white, with white rods in their hands, going round them, and waving them above their heads, but seeming to take no notice of them, and sung  

We must make these Walks and Groves  
Free from the dregs of mortal Loves,  
And clear them from th'unclean abodes  
Of croaking frogs, and creeping toads;  
For Oberon the Fairy King  
Fair Mab his Queen will hither bring,  
And they must dance, and we must sing,  
And they must, etc.  
Then they stood still and cried,  
Come! O come without delay,  
Ye Goat Prancers of the Groves,  
Leave your Embraces, leave your Loves,  
And cleanse the mighty Monarch's way.   
Then entered two Servants of the house dressed like Satyrs, with two great Buckets of water for a lustration, and emptied upon each of their heads; with that they both cried and begged they would release them, which Charlotte and her Maid by laughing almost discover themselves; with that the Satyrs seemed angry, and said.  

Bold Mortals, how durst you be here,  
When Oberon was to appear,  
To pry into the unknown Rites  
Of Fairy Ladies and their Knights,  
And search into the hidden sport  
Of the happy Fairy Court?  
Stay till the King himself doth come.   
With this a company of Boys dressed like Fairies come in dancing, and caper round them singing, and pinching them severely; the  much surprised and affrighted, desired to know which was the King, who when he was showed to him, told him that he served a mighty Emperor, and one who would revenge the injuries of his Subjects when they could not enjoy the Privileges of the Law of Nations, which suffered all strangers, guilty of no offence to come and go freely: To whom the King said,  

Thy Master, fool, doth but command,  
Compared to mine, an inch of Land:  
My spacious Empire is the Air,  
And the loved Breast of Mab the fair.   
With that they contracted their Circle, and only run about him, and pinched, till he almost awakened the house with his cries, which made them all run away, and leave the unfortunate Lovers as they found them, where they continued till the Sun bid the World Good-morrow, entertaining themselves with the strangeness of the Adventure, and the many circumstances of their misfortune. At this time the Gardener enters the Garden, and seeing two men in this posture, growing half out of the earth, started back; and it is possible if he had been read in the Poets, he might have thought that Cadmus had killed another Dragon, and had made choice of that place to sow the teeth in: but he having no such sentiments, presently runs in and gives the alarm to the house, so that it came to the Master's ears, who going to the place, would have apprehended them for Thiefs, till his Daughter acquainted him with the whole Adventure, which pleased them all as much as it displeased the unhappy Lovers, who were so abused with it (for it was soon spread) that they were forced to remove to some more obscure place of France.  
The next night after a little recapitulating, Theogenes proceeded thus. During the time of Du Perrots recovery, his friend did him all the best offices he could, and by his importunity he brought her to consent to an admittance of his visit, which he paid with much joy, but also with much submission to her for that boldness which had wrought her displeasure. She received him well, and excused her former severity, which, she said, proceeded from surprise, and assured him for the future of as much favour as might be consistent with the duty she was to pay her Father. He now renewed his discontinued visits, and daily meetings, hoping by his assiduous services to work a good end. In this state their love was, when a thing which altered the whole affair fell out. De La Hire, who had all this while laboured his friends quiet, was now unhappily concerned to do somewhat for his own; for by often treating to advance Du Perrots, loves, he found flames kindied in his own breast by the same eyes: Nor was Charlotte, though she carried it more secretly, less charmed with his graces than he with hers. This accident wrought his great discontent, and had almost carried him to that distemper out of which he had brought his friend, who also observed it with much grief, and still solicited him, though with no success, to know its cause. His thoughts were, should I go to work mine own interest with her whom I adore, I should at once prove false to her, and treacherous to my friend; and should I acquaint him, his generosity perhaps would give more than mine could receive; I will therefore repair to some solitary place, and there amongst the Crags and and horrors of the thickest Groves will sigh away my life, and prove myself faithful to Charlotte, and true to Du Perrot. This said, he makes out of the Town, and took the way which led to a neighbouring Wood His friend and Mistress observing this from their window, resolved to pursue him, and see if they could learn any thing. He had no sooner entered the place at one side, but Du Perrot unseen was got in at another, and Charlotte and her Maid (who was her Confident) at another; and seated themselves under an hedge, by the advantage of which they could hear, and see him; and be undiscovered. Assoon as he was sat, he took up his lute, which his boy brought thither before, and striking the strings, sung these words, which answered to the Notes.  

Tell me! oh tell me all ye Groves  
Within whose sacred breasts do lie  
The plaints and sighs of faithful Loves,  
Was ever one more grieved than I?   

Love over me a Conquest makes,  
(Whose powers you know none can withstand)  
Friendship again those Conquests shakes  
And ruins with a mightier hand.   

Love doth make th' assault again,  
So that of a cruel war  
My breast must be th'unhappy Scene,  
Whilst no side is a conqueror.   

Therefore you powers who rule on high,  
Direct me so that I may prove  
Happy once more, and fate defy,  
And true to friendship, and to love.   

Let not Charlotte's victorious eyes  
the just Du-Perrot's friendship wrong;  
Nor let his charms make me despise  
Those graces which from hers arise,  
Which Bards so oft in deathless notes have sung.   
At the end of this song his friends appear, which accident surprised him the more, because he feared they had overheard him. But Du-Perrot comes up to him with a clear and assured countenance, and said, fear not my faithfullest friend, to make me miserable, if you may at the same time render yourself happy; give Charlotte your love, so Du-Perrot may have your friendship. To you who have so long possessed the best part of me I resign the last, but the noblest, my soul, for by Charlotte I live. But yet think it not mean in me so easily to part with a life which with so much solicitude hath hitherto been preserved, and in a time when I should most of all desire to prolong it, since Charlotte is pleased to bless me with her affections: for it is but just that I should sacrifice myself to my preserver, and I am sure Heaven thinks the virtues of De La Hire only fit to be joined with those of Charlotte. He here takes both their hands, and said, go now happy Pair, go and enjoy the blessings of Cities, and of Courts! and leave here your at once unhappy and unfortunate Du-Perrot to the quiet and solitude of these Woods, that here expiring he may pay his vows, and offer his prayers and sacrifice for your eternal happiness! He here offered to join their hands, but they both went back, and De La Hire addressed himself thus; Wrong not your friend Du-Perrot in thinking he fears more than you to die; or that, whilst he lives, you can overcome him in friendship or generosity, though in all other things he yields to you. Assure yourself that you wrong her whom we both adore in believing she would receive him who could so dishonourably survive his friend. I love a glorious fall as well as you! and what could render my Funerals more illustrious than that at my Grave Charlotte should say here lies the FAITHFULLEST OF LOVERS, and that Du-Perrot should weep out, here lies the TRUEST OF FRIENDS. Go, and be happy then together! and enjoy your many blessings in some happy place, to which your stars shall point you; and if ever you think or speak of De La Hire, give him no other Character than that of a Faithful Lover, and a true Friend. Here was a profound silence till the fair Charlotte broke it in these words; Much is due from me (generous friends) to both your loves, and from each of you to the other's friendship; but since it is not in my power to crown the same merits with the same rewards, I must desire not to be pressed to a declaration of my affections, but that both of you will accept my friendship, and give me yours, which will afford more solid and scraphique joys than love, which grows less if it doth not determine with enjoyment. To this, after some civilities, they all consented, and then begun a friendship which nothing but death could ever break.  
And now perhaps some will ask to what end is all this from the beginning said? to what doth it conduce? He who demands this, must know, that it was enterprised to show Virtue and Vice in their true colours. He must also know, that the Author did not undertake this in hopes to be crowned with the Crown of Fame, but rather with that that was given by the Romans to a good Citizen, who did then sacrifice his fortunes, and what he doth now, his reputation to deliver his fellow-Citizens out of any imminent danger. But if any should now severely say, it is an impertinence, and should blame the design for the error of its menager; he must know that impertinences are to be driven out by impertinences, (as fire out of a  finger is by fire) that he who is guilty of them, seeing their inconveniences in another person, may in himself avoid them.  
FINIS.    

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