Remarks upon remarks: OR, A VINDICATION OF THE CONVERSATIONS OF THE TOWN, In another LETTER directed to the same Sir T. L.  
Quare fremuerunt Gentes?  
LONDON, Printed by A.C. for William Hensman, at the King's Head in Westminster Hall, 1673.   

To the most virtuous Lady Madam R. C. Who requested this Vindication.  
MADAM,  

I Need not vindicate the Town to you:  
You, being here, that Office better do.  
The Virtues you possess, and All Adore,  
Expiate for the Vice of Town, and more.  
I'd set your Picture on my Book, but then,  
It would fore stall the Market of my Pen:  
And none would read; or some (perhaps) would swear  
Town needs no vindication, while she's there.   

But since some know you not, and some forget;  
I'll let them know, I've done the Task you set.    

To the Well-bred GENTLEMEN of the TOWN.  
GENTLEMEN,  
I Lately met with a Linsey-woolsey Letter, as like what the Common-Lawyers call a Libel as ever it could look; I read it over, and found a discontented somebody, (who seems to know nothing of the Town, but what is not worth knowing) labouring to Travest London into extreme deformities, by laying the blemishes of some rude Acquaintance of his, upon the whole Town: like the Countryman, who having found some Tares in his Dish, swore there was no Wheat in his Frumity. Then to show himself a Writer, to humour some prejudiced Party, or for some other ends, with open-mouth, proclaims to the World, that our Age, our Nation, and its great Metropolis, are wholly (for his Notions are general) degenerate, vicious, and debauched  
I thought it a bold Enterprise, and pregnant with dangerous Consequences: As first, It discourages and dissuades all Country Gentlemen from educating their Sons in the ways of Arts, Arms, and Trade. It profanes the most Learned and Glorious City in the Christian World. And (which is worst of all, by defaming that) it impeaches the Government thereof, and offers violence to the Conduct of our Governors, who have always thought fit to make this renowned City the Centre of distributive Justice, and the seat of the Imperial Diadem.  
On this last score, I confess, it seemed to my sense, to smell hot of a Design, against which I have always had a just indignation; and that is, by obliqne means to possess the heads of the Ignorant, unstable Populace, with a contempt of Magistracy and personal defects of Governors, such Arts have been Comets portending future Evils, forerunners of Rebellion.  
It was well said by the Lord Digby in Parliament in 1640. It is easy to make People believe, what they are willing to believe, though the Arguments are little inducing, that are used to engage that belief. As when the Petition in that Year was drawn up, and presented to the Commons against Bishops, the inconveniences therein supposed, were most personal, the other ridiculous: As because Ovid's De Arte Amandi, was Translated into English, etc.  
Gentlemen, (though I was moved to what I have done by Arguments of another Nature, yet) these considerations prompted me to comply with the other desires; And since I have done this, I send it to you (as an Essay only) who (being equally concerned with me in the Cause) will, I hope, supply (on occasion) what is omitted, and correct what is amiss, which will oblige  
Gentlemen Your affectionate Friend and Townsman.   

To the READER.  
I Intent no reflections on any Country Gentlemen, but those of mere Country built, void of Education.  
I intent no vindication, but of the Sober and Virtuous in the Town.   

SIR,  
I Lately saw a Letter, said to be written to you, grown into a Book, and called Remarks on the Humours and Conversations of the Town. I liked the Name, and expected much from it: But when I found that its business was to persuade you to a mere Country life, and to dissuade you wholly from London, I wondered what a God's name was in the man's mind: and when further I saw his Arguments persuasive to be only some minute Considerations of Country Pastimes, and Fools-Bables, and the diswasive Arguments, some rudenesses, and extravagancies in London, I wondered more; especially, while he wishes you to Arrive at the glory of your Ancestors, to stick fresh Laurels in their Garlands, to become a Hero; and dissuades you from the Regular Method of accomplishing the design.  
Sir, since he took upon him to be a Tutor to you, and advise you to become a Hero, he should have let you know the ways to be such; to have read you Lectures thereupon, to have insinuated the advantages of virtuous Courses, the inconveniences of the ills, which his long Experience has prompted him to remark upon; to have informed you that in (the University of Education) London, there are of both sorts, of the better sort, the better part; and against the worse to have framed his Cautions to avoid intimacy, converse, and indeed acquaintance with them. But in stead thereof he point-blank tells you, you must not go to London. And why so? Truly, Sir, he uses you like a child, and would scare you from London with the Buggers of the Country; and by Country Logic, there are naughty People in London, therefore you must not come there. There is in London Bridewell, Newgate, Bethlehem; Ergo all the People in London are Whores, Thiefs, or Mad.  
Sir, Since the man was furnished with anger enough, and some words, why did he not take his rise at the Universities, to argue you into a Hero? And instancing in Cambridge for example, he might have held forth, and said, O dear, Sir, Remember the Glories that attend the Ghosts of your renowned Ancestors, the Excellencies of an Indulgent Mother, exceeding the Precedents of any Age, who desires you should arrive at heroic achievements, to serve your King and Country, and become a Hero. Do not go to Cambridgé, Sir, there are Alehouses, in which you will be drunk; and there are in those houses notable prinking Wenches, that will captivate you into Marriage, or somewhat like it. There are Tennis-Courts, and Bowling-Greens that will heat you to an excess, and then you will drink cold small Beer and die. There is a River too, in which you will be drowned; and you will study yourself into a Consumption, or break your Brain; and will you go to such a place? Next, Sir, for London; do not go thither, and then tell the Book, etc. And as for Travel, Sir, never think on't; for there is a great Sea to go over, there is in it a great beastly Fish called a Whale, which (they say) turn over Ships, and drown the Folks therein; there are also Rocks, and Shelves, and Sands, which will Shipwreck you; and remember, Sir, a great Hurricane got away the Lord Willoughby. And lastly, as to this point, there are strange People beyond Seas, not only the hateful French, whom we over-ape, but Black People, who look like Devils, and will fright you out of your Wits; and Wild People too, who will tear you in pieces limb from limb; and another sort of People called Cannibals, who will eat up all those limbs and pieces, even to the little Toe-nail, or the Gristle of your Rump. What think you, Sir, of all this, will you now take such courses as these? No, I hope not, Sir, keep in the Country, and use the manly Exercise of Riding after a Deer, and I'll warrant you a Hero to some tune: but be sure come not at London, for there are ill People.  
Euge, brave Country Tutor! he has guessed at the Dimensions of Hercules by his foot: but who taught him, by that foot, to know what manner of men were Agamemnon and Achilles?  
Sir, Finding the Advisers' Letter to run after this manner, I began to guests where he had been bred; I judged he was a Funambulo bred in the Town, for I thought by his high jingoes, and mighty curvetts on high-lines, he must have been acquainted with Jacob Hall, and Bartholomew Fair; and I perceive it was his ill luck to keep very bad Company, and that a great while too, by the knowledge he discovers in the Vices of his Companions. I profess, Sir, I have known that woeful Town many years, and know very little of the Vices, but can give great Instances of the virtuous Learning and Conversation of the place; and though your Adviser, Sir, has told me so much news, I am not frighted from educating a Son in London, rather than to leave my Estate to an ill hewn Loggerhead, fit for nothing but to run after a Dog and a Cat; and must be kept a Fool to become a Country Hero.  
Sir, I mislike all undertake that anatomize Vice in the presence of Youth, and by that means tell them of the Vices whereof they never heard, and the way to be Vicious which they never knew. Nitimur in vetitum, is become natural, since Nature became depraved, and restrictions or prohibitions ought to be imposed warily. The old Man (in Ariosto the Italian Poet) who had not gone out of the Town for 40 years, hearing that he was confined to the Town, was mad to see what was without the Gates.  
But, Sir, It has pleased your Adviser, that mighty person of Conduct, next to your Mother, to go another way to work, and a sure one too; infallible I promise you: an approved remedy against the Vices of London; and that is, in short, never to come there. And all this upon good Reason and sound, even the Calvinistical Hypothesis, that the Energetical Decrees of Reprobation, will catch you by the back, as soon as you set foot in London streets, O wicked London streets! And long experience has taught him, that the fate attending the Life of a young Gentleman in London, is to be vicious, fottish, and profane.  
I condole with him his sad experience, and am glad he has changed his Company, and has learned to be a Hero-maker, though such a one as 'tis; I confess 'tis better to be a Fool than a Knave, if there be a necessity of being one of them: but he has not used Arguments cogent enough to convince me of the necessity of being one or the other. Sure this man, when he was a Raw Country Lad, was sent to London, and there fell to the Boyish art of making Squibs and Crackers, and so from one childish trick to another, till he improved to the idle and impertinent courses he now swaggers at. And Truth is, if young innocent Country Gentlemen be not well taught, and well-grounded before they come there, if they be not grown men too, and perhaps be well appointed to these Designments and Societies, they may be imposed upon, even by the very Boys of this place; who by the help of the frequent and generous converse here, arrive to knowledge to 10 years of Age, in greater measure than a Country Bumpkin at 20.  
Perhaps, Sir, this man of Idaea's had some aspiring thoughts to be Bell-wether of the Wits, as he calls some Ainy, brisk Fellows of his acquaintance, to outgo the Coffee-house smoke, to reach the Clouds, to be Speaker of all the Noise that haunt idle places, and because he could not reach the top of his aim, has taken it in dudgeon: or having felt the pains and aches, which (they say) succeed a dissolute Youth, cries out, No London, no London; and may be himself, for aught I know, is like an old Ape (as one says, that has worn off his Tail, and would have all young Apes cut off their Tails to be like him. And but for one, perhaps more, perhaps he belonged to the Temple, afraid of being pumped for not paying Exceed, frighted at the Rebellion for that cause; for he says he was surprised, and his Letter was voided about that time; or by miss of expected advantages he grew into wrath and fell foul of all London, only was pleased to be a little kinder to some of both Sexes, at the end of his Preface; but they are not very considerable neither, they are retired Animals, live to themselves and their Consciences, and are no companions for you, Sir. So in effect he concludes, that all who will converse are bad; and all are bad who will not converse.  
And now, Sir, we are fallen into the way of the Wilderness, and if you please to tyre yourself a little, I'll go along with you through the Wood, and (because you are advised to History) to encourage your steps, I'll tell you now and then a story, as shall be occasioned by the remarks in our Travel. And now, for my Pibble and Sling, and have at the Philistim in Green, this Country Zanzumim.  
But, Sir, before we go further I must take notice whom I walk with, what Company I keep; and 'tis a good rule for you, Sir, either in Town or Country, noscitur ex socio, etc.  
Sir, Upon this first view of you, I take you to be a Gentleman of good Family, though the Gallantry of your Mother is the only Argument to make out the Quality of your Ancestors, being the surest side, was thought the surest demonstration also that you are dignified with the highest Order of Gentility, of good Estate, and having a round sum of ready money; that you are come to the Age of Consideration, that your Education has been agreeable to the ancient Precepts of Nobleness, Generosity, and Virtue. So that you have passed all the Ill-lucks of School and University safe and sound, and whether you are to go to London with safety is the Question. In order to that you have a Letter sent, which gins with Trouble and Surprise; and I verily believe the good man wrote it quite through in that condition. But why Trouble, and why Surprise? Oh, a young Gentleman, a young innocent Gentleman, who by an innocent, ignorant Country life, who by riding after a Deer might become a Hero, and especially by living under the Regiment and Conduct of an induigent Mother might be so; is now going to London, vile London! where are nothing but Mousetraps, and Fireworks, Bears and Lions, Skip-Jacks and Jews-trumps, and nothing contributory to the making of a Hero.  
In this sad and doleful posture he laments the state of this present Age, in comparison with former Ages, and cries out with the Poet, 
Aetas parentum pejor avis, tulit  
Nos nequiores, mox daturos  
Progeniem vitiosiorem. Hor.   
And every Age may say the same, and perhaps truly, yet while the Vices of Ages are not recorded, and so are unknown to aftertimes, and present Ages have personal view of themselves, they judge the present always worst; and out of well wishes for amendment, it has been wisely designed to commend the former and rebuke the present Age: and the same aetas parentum, etc. will be perhaps used by our Children, though we have seen the horrid'st Times that have been since our Saviour's.  
It is true, the present time in which we now live, doth differ from the Times on this side Hen. 8. and yet can compare with all before. The reason of the difference may in some sort be, that after the Crown of England justified itself Imperial, and the affair of Church Government Independent of either the Eastern or Western Patriarches; our Islands dividing from all claims of Foreign Jurisdiction, and differing in some points of Religion, became estranged from Confederacies with other Nations, and so had not the opportunities of training up our Youth in Martial Activities (abating what little formal Artillery was in the Netherlands) which brought our Nation into some effeminacy; and occasioned the losing of much of those magnanimous Improvements, which used always to be welcome to English minds. And this continued till the late Civil War, which most influenced the conquering Rebels, made up of Mechanics of the lowest Ranks, and Plebeians: The ancient Gentry under Sequestration and Plunder (the glory of their loyalty) contenting themselves to suffer for that Cause, which they could not retrieve. And now lately opportunities have been ministered for our Sovereign to join with the most Christian King, in order to the redeeming of the of the ancient Gallantry, which used to attend the Subjects of Monarchy, and hath been a long time fettered, and almost stifled, yet may now Exert itself in the rebukes of the Treacheries of an unsaithful Anarchy.  
And a Liberty (like that of our Neighbours) being (for the present) assumed, to uncage the mighty English souls, and to give them Elbow-room, in order to the great & popular designs now abroad in the World; it may be true, that some looseness perhaps may mix with that Liberty, and steal insensibly on some of the narrowest and less wary Designers of popular Enterprizers.  
Yet this (if so) hinders not, but the present Age, (all circumstances considered) is in fairer way for improvement in all sorts of honourable Science and heroic purposes, than any Age before us, some instances whereof may (perhaps) occur in our particular notice of the remarks.  
Sir, Methinks, your Adviser was somewhat out while he Courts you sometimes with mighty Encomiums, and acknowledges you to understand as much of true sense and good breeding as most; yet he insinuates the sweet and prudent conduct of your Mother to overcome unpleasant obsequiousness; and the love of childish Liberties, as arguments to you not to leave the Country life. So that notwithstanding what he says well of you sometimes, at other times he says as ill, or at least, would have the World believe worse of you; telling what mean Opinion your Mother has of you, who would still have you under her Regiment, fearing, yea, perplexed, that you will be debauched with the Vices of the Town: which is as much as to say, Sir, you understand as much as any one, but yet it is fit your Mother should govern you still, for you have not understanding enough to protect you from vicious practices, Sir, you are beholding to him, pray thank him for nothing; He and your Mother have consulted well together, they are both willing you should pursue noble Erterprises, especially those of serving King and Country; but it must not be at London, no, nor must you go thither to see if you have a King to serve, nor to learn how to serve him, or your Country.  
These great Undertake are to be accomplished under the Conduct and Regiment of your Mother, and to be taught you by inspiration, and so upstart Mushroom- Hero in one Moonlight night in the Country.  
But, Sir, we had best have a care, we mistake not, honest Country meaning: the Man says A life partly of Conversation, and partly of leisure and retiredness, is most suitable to the affairs and interests of men: and well is it said too, i. e. Reading, Meditation, and Converse, conduce much to make you a Hero, and to serve King and Country. Well said in good sooth, have at Arts and Arms now; Ah, but its Country Arts, and Country Arms, he means. Pish, then 'tis no more but this; you are to send to London, I say send, for come not you here on pain and peril that will fall thereon; therefore, once again, send for the Statute Book, and the two famous Books of dalton's and Shepherd's Justice of Peace Office, especially that of Dalton, for there you will have all precedents of Warrants, Mittimus', and the whole Artillery of a learned Justice, there you will be furnished with so much skill as will make you be counted a Hero. Judge to punish Offenders against the Crown and Dignity of our Sovereign Lord the King, against the dignity of your Office and Heroship, who shall wickedly neglect to say Worshipful at every word, and to do what you command right or wrong; by which means (abating the Regiment and Conduct of your more learned Mother) you shall be absolute Commander of all men and things that fall under the swing of the learned part of you. You will also strike such awe into the minds of Tenants, Neighbours, and Dependants, that they shall admire to hear you (over a Boull of Nogg) to tell News, like a little News-monger to arraign, try, judge, and condemn the Consultations, Actions, and Designs of King, Council, Parliament, and Ministers of State; and (by the help of your Advisers' Letter) to quarrel at all things you are to be ignorant of, and make them wring their hands and wonder you are not made a Privy Counsellor, they not dreaming your Mother and her Secretary will not let you go to London.  
And to conclude this Discourse of Arts, (for we are to suppose all Arts to be in a Country Justice) be sure you get a good and well-grounded Clerk, for that makes the Justice, and Justice the Hero.  
Next, Sir, you are to serve your King and Country in way of Arms, which is the latter part of your Hero-ship. In order to that, you are, in Country leisure and retiredness, to read that excellent and profound Piece, called The Soldiers Grammar; which Book in short time, with your Mother's Annotations, will make you (as to Arms) fit to be (in your Advisers' opinion) a Deputy-Lieutenant; than you are to buy a great red Scarff with great gold Fringe, get your Clerk to put it on, on the side contrary to your Sword, that it may not hid the gilt Handle: summons your Company to appear before you on some convenient place on your Manor, bid them stand to their Tackling, Face to the right, and then to the left, which is right against the Alehouse (newly licenced by you to advance your rent) give them a Barrel of Bear at a penny the Quart, receive their thanks by a Volley of shot, and go home like a mighty Hero returned from the Conquest of Granada, or the Siege of Rhodes. All this, I fancy, Sir, your Adviser reserved for another Letter, after he had frighted you from London, with the Snap-Dragons there, and (which Crowns all) the Converse in the Country, with other such like Hero's skilled in Arts and Arms, as aforesaid, will exceedingly improve your reading, and rivet these redoubted accomplishments in your mind and memory: whereas in London, silly, rude, villainous London, there are no men fit to converse with, only some few who are retired, live to their own Consciences, and are not good Companions.  
And this you may easily believe, Sir, if you believe what he says next, viz. That Philosophy is out of credit in this Age, and if he should say otherwise, he fears, you would despise him for a Pedant. Now whether he fears you (in that) really, I know not, but to gratify his fear, let him fear me, who (for so saying) do despise him as such, for he now speaks like one, that brute has the gretest share of, and bewrays that ignorance that mere Country Tuscan is condemned to.  
How! Philosophy out of credit! what! That Philosophy which (as Seneca says) found not Plato Noble, but made him so: now out of credit! That Philosophy out of Credit which made the Great Emperor Aurelius declare, That though he had no Reward among the Gods, nor honour among men, yet he was right glad to be a Philosopher for the love of itself. Strange news! And where out of Credit? In London be sure; ah, and every where else, in the whole Age: then Country it seems has no Philosophy neither. Well rhymed Tutor, God-a-mercy good Hero-maker. He persuades you, Sir, Philosophy is out of credit; no need of that: and so you are to be a Hero without it. Sir, I must tell you, if you had so little Wit as to believe this, you would never have Wit enough to be a Hero. But being otherwise persuaded of you; I shall endeavour to undeceive you, and inform you and your ignorant Adviser too, that the two Notions of Philosophy and Languages comprise all humane Learnng. As to the last, never were those attainments arrived at, as are at this present the Glory of this Age, this Nation, this great City. As for the Western Languages, especially the French, they are so familiar to us, that its cause of Quarrel to your Man of Language, that they get place in our discourses. As to the Eastern Languages, I shall need to instance in no more than the Polyglot Bible, with the Lexicons thereto; a performance exceeding all Times, to the everlasting honour of those worthy persons, whose names add Ornament to the Work, and are mentioned before it; and in special to that incomparable Linguist, who was the first in the Enterprise, and has survived the rest, the Reverend Dr. CASTLE, now Arabic Professor in Cambridge, in whom the Age is highly credited by his indefatigable Labours; and more highly discredited in that, that in slight to his Person and his Pains, in discouragement to future learned Attempts, no recompense has reached him, bearing any proportion with his merit, no, not with his charge in that single invaluable Achievement.  
Now, Sir, As to Philosophy, I fear the Man understands neither Name nor Thing. Good man, he never learned, perhaps, further than Barbara, Celarent, and so thought all Philosophy contained in Seton; and because Raudolph calls him (unmannerly) Jack Seton, and Greasy Jack Seton, he like a wise Philosopher, concludes that Philosophy is out of credit  
'Tis true, Sir, The mere notional and disputing part of Philosophy, the Mumpsimus of the old Stagerite and his Dogmata, are no more in credit, then as they contribute to practical knowledge and true Science, leading inquiries into the most inward recesses of Learning, and thereby enlarging the soul of man answerable to the design of such an immortal being; which is the aim and honour of this present Age, having found the extreme inconveniences which have bewitched the latter Ages, disturbed the peace of Church and State, and prevented improvements in sound Learning, even that disputandi pruritus, idolised by men, whose only accomplishments were, to be acute Disputants, dextrous Wranglers, and such Philosophy as that, and such Philosophers as they, I confess, are quite out of credit.  
But, Sir, Had your Adviser spent some of his long Experience at Arundel house, Gresham-Colledge, or any other of the many Societies of Learning now in London, he would not have put off Philosophy, with an Out of Credit falsity. Nay, had he but seen a Booksellers shop once a Term; he might have seen the Catalogue of Books, products of the great and insuperable industry and prodigious improvements of the Philosophers that are in Town; he might then have learned to tell you of better business for Country divertisements then riding after a Deer; that is, the improvements of Woods and Orchards, of cultivating, impregnating, and improving of Lands by tillage and planting, with a multitude more of inventions and branches of Philosophy, found out and enlarged by the Philosophers here, in their several ways and Societies, who in truth are the most real and generous Benefactors to the Learned World, that any Times have produced; and they are persons (though of honour and renown, yet) of such free, sociable, and communicative constitutions, as dispose them to distribute that knowledge with unlimited freedom, which they acquired with unwearied pains.  
And further, Sir, though your Friend willingly lays aside, the considerations of Religion, whether out of ignorance, or what else, I know not, yet I can assure you, that our Philosophers here do exceedingly contribute to the better part of Man, with reference to the future state. And, Sir, were you at London, and would not be frighted from Church with fear of a Pickpocket, you might hear Philosophy from the Pulpit, and constant preaching, not bettered by any days on this side the Apostles. And we here have leisure and retiredness enough to read abundance of excellent Philosophy in the sacred Pages, though Solomon's great Body of Natural Philosophy of Vegetables, from the Cedar to the Hyssop, is not yet come to light. Thus far, Sir, is Philosophy out of credit; thus far, is your Tutor (upon his own challenge) to be despised as a Pedant.  
Next, Sir, He advances to a Homespun Argument for a Country life; and that is, you shall have opportunities of reading History. Alas poor London! hast thou lost all thy History? Hue and Cry, pray, after History: Country Hero has rob London of History. Well it cannot be helped, History must be read, and we must go into the Country to read it. Then, pray Sir, where do you dwell? that we Londoners may come and Hero-fie ourselves with History at your house. On my word, Sir, we have Philosophyed well indeed; we have raised a Spirit, which the out of Credit Folk call by the name of Dilemma. And thus he plague's us, either trouble and surprise must have you by the bones, or your Tutor. If all we Londoners come down to your House to read History, this will be trouble and surprise to you: if you bring History up to London, then there is trouble and surprise to Tutor.  
Again, Either you must bring it up, or send it up: if you bring it up, you will be you know what: if you send it up, you will lose the means of being a Hero; and Tutor loses his prime Argument. Lo, what a spirit is here now? he could go further too, if he were let alone. What work would this Fiend make among a Herd of Country Hero's? shrewd Work indeed!  
But, Sir, We Londoners and out of Credit Philosophers, make no bones of such spirits as these; Nay, they can conjure down with three words, the veriest Hobgoblin that ever scared poor Country Hero.  
Come, Sir, Be not troubled nor surprised, this was no spirit, it was merely a delusion. We will not come to your House for History, nor any thing else, we have more plenty of all things here; in particular, more History, more leisure, more retiredness to read it, more and better converse to improve it; we do think it great pleasure to see former Ages in the Glasses of History. It is a part of Philosophy, it contributes to the making of a Hero, provided you rest not in the Ideas of Things, but improve them into action, and confine them not to the scite of your Manor.  
And therefore, whereas your Adviser prefers History to performance, because, as he says, he that stands on high takes a more perfect account of an agreeable show, than he that makes one of the Train. I doubt he wants some of the Town Wit, for the Alderman that stood on a Steeple, saw more of the fierce Battle at Colchester, than any one in it; yet, I take it, (with submission to better Judgements) that Sir Charles Lucas was likelier to prove the greater Hero.  
In ancient time, it was Ulysses' praise; quod mores hominum multorum vidit & urbes. But now I perceive, by a newfound Country Doctrine, in order to make a Hero. It is better to read Heylins' Geography, or Oglebie's Atlas, then to travel, to read Lucan's Pharsalia, Fisher's York fight, or perhaps, the admirable piece before mentioned, the Soldier's Grammar, then to be an experienced Soldier.  
Oh brave Country-Justice-Captain-Hero. But to proceed, Our Man of Argument having told the ill luck of meeting an idle Companion (and it seems he has met with as much of that ill luck, as any of his Time, the more the pity, and then having shaken off the Gentleman, as it seems he was, but of no breeding, understanding nothing above the Breeches.) He mounts, and now baloo for the Country, upon the ran-dan, hay for the Country, oh brave Country. Sir, there you will have delight in the fierceness of Horse, pursuit of a Deer, variety of sports, along the beautiful Foot-cloths of Nature, you'll sleep quietly, and not miss of Idaea's to form you glorious Dreams; and what then? then all this is better than hunting a little Wench, (or a great one either) then beating the Watch, or breaking Glass windows, losing a great quantity of Guinies, or playing away a Lordship. Oh wonderful! and is it so indeed? what follows? what? then by authentic consequences of Country Philosophy, Hunting, Walking, Sleeping, and Dreaming in the Country, will make you a Hero, and going to London will make you a Rogue.  
Sure this man has burnt his shins at your Fire, and therefore you must remove your Chimney.  
But, Sir, since we are on the beautiful Foot-cloths of Nature, and places of Sports, let's have a Verse of Discourse of Hunting. And as to that, (though profane Eutopians think it unworthy to be used of Free men, and therefore reject it to their Butchers, to which Office they design their Bondmen, accounting Hunting the vilest and most abject part of Butchery, especially that Hunting which is for pleasure only. Yet) we that are Philosopher-Historians, do read of Xenophon (a better Philosopher than any in Utopia, which place for that, is worse than London, for my Lord Major here keeps Hounds) how he commended Hunting to Cyrus, and called it a gift of the Gods, first bestowed on Chiron for his doing Justice, and by him taught unto the old Hero's and Princes; and we at this day take it for a lawful Pastime, befitting any man of what degree soever, and we take it withal, that the skill of well ordering a Pack of Hounds, may prefer a man to be my Lord Major's Dog-keeper, but never make him a Hero; but I'll tell you one thing, Sir, which your Adviser never told you, perhaps never knew, viz. that if (with the London Philosophers) you shall inquire into the natural causes and grounds of Hunting, what manner of effluviums or bodikins are left by the Hare's foot on Nature's Foot-cloth, how retained there for a good space of time, how received into the scents of the Hound, directed thereby, and by a natural impulse to pursue poor Wats to death; you would outdo all the Country Hero's, and dream such glorious dreams, as Artemidorous never heard of, form of such Idaea's as attend London Philosophers. And this (indeed lo) is far better than keeping such rude Company, as Tutor, by long experience, has found out to reproach London with, and whereof the Philosophers are wholly ignorant.  
Advance we next to a necessarium, you must marry, ay, marry Sir, Ergo, you must not go to London; why not to London? ay, and for that purpose too; where so many Country heirs meet with Fortunes, who repair the Cracks of their ancient Families, add to others more mean, and are acceptable to the best. Oh, but Sir, if you go thither you will spoil your Instruments of Generation, and never be able to continue posterity to succeed you in your Manors, and Country-Heroship.  
Sir, This man it seems knows you Intus & in cute; you are condemned to a sad fate, and good Sir Nativity-caster has so decreed it, etc. But why marry just now? he knows best, if he judges of you by himself.  
But (in earnest Sir) I approve not too early marriages, as well for St. Paul's reasons against all marriages, as for hindrance of Posterity: yet (in good deed) if the case be so with you, that by traduction you inherit a constitution big with inclination of that cogency, as you must marry, or do like it; (and to the point he seems to speak as knowingly, as dogmatically.) Then Marry, only get your Tutor (as preparative) to postil on the History of Pyramus and Thisbe, and lecture to you well thereon. But, Sir, how will this project conduce to the making you a Hero? for Marriage (they say) is a hindrance to such ends. Come, Sir, that's a mistake, as i'll plainly make out by Philosophical History, as clear as the Sun; and now I think on't, it's the only Country trick to make you a Hero. One Vibius Rufus married Tully's Widow, and bought Caesar's Chair, to get the eloquence of the one, and the Power of the other, and when he had done all this, no doubt but he was a perfect Hero. Now, Sir, you being an accomplished young Gentleman, and rich, may with your Advisers' help, marry thus, and be a Hero in a trice: if this won't do't, you must try some other ways; only come not at London, wicked London, for Astrology sake: ay, and the round sum of ready money sake; which is all condemned to the Cheats and Pickpockets, if you come at London. Was not your Adviser, pray Sir, one of the Rump-Parliament? and argued Monarchy out of doors, on pretence that Kings have some times ill Counsellors? May I be so bold, Sir, Pray where do you dwell? I hope not near Bansted-Downs, Newmarket, or Salisbury Plain, nor near a Market, a Fair, a City, or Town-Corporate: for on my word, lewd People frequent such places, and many round sums of ready money have been lost there, and many a fair Manor mortgaged. Well, Sir, if you were (indeed) born when all good Stars turned their backs on you, as is reported, I should not advise you to use the manly exercise of riding after a Deer, for I knew one who broke a Horse neck riding after Greyhounds, and I have heard many with as little a matter have broke their own necks, therefore you must look to your Hits in the Country also, unless the Regiment and Conduct of your Mother be there a Charm against all Ill-lucks.  
Then, Sir, After a Cross-Caper or two (by the help of fatal must) over the heads of some airy Companions of his, (and he seems to have many of such acquaintance, and if he can leap over all their heads so, he is a nimble Gentleman.) He attacques the Poets of the Town with all his might: have at the Poets, Heroic Poets, Dramatic Poets, and all this to make you a Hero. Sir, you must not acquaint yourself with Poets, nor read Poetry.  
Sir, The man should have done well to have instanced in any Age of the World, wherein Poetry was not in high esteem, as well Heroic as Dramatic, Scaliger says that the reading of Virgil will make a man more honest than all the Precepts of Philosophers, divine Mr. Herbert says, 
A verse may find him, who a Sermon flies,  
And turn Delight into a Sacrifice.   
The Macedonian Amintas gave to Chaerilus (a mean Poet) the value of an Angel for every Verse, and our K. H. 8. for a few Psalms turned into English Metre, made Sternhold Groom of his Privy Chamber. Virgil, Homer, Lucan, Plautus, Terence, Horace, and Casimire, (to name no more) for Heroic, Dramatic, and Lyric, have always been, and still are of great esteem in all Ages and places. It pleased the holy Penmen to leave some Books of Holy Writ in Metre. And St. Paul was well acquainted therewith, and made good use too of the Heathen Poets, witness his Citations of Epimenides, 1 Tit. 12. Menander, 1 Cor 15.33. and Aratus, Acts 17.28. and I fancy he designed a Verse of his own, James 1.17. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, for I refer to the Greek Testament, and on the former Citations Erasmus says, Plures sine dubio legerat beatus Paulus poetas quam quos recitavit, & recitando aliquos laudavit omnes. Sir, is not your Adviser all this while a wise man to inveigh against Poetry, on behalf whereof a Volume might be written; with as little ingenuity he falls foul on the Poet, and what is his fault? The Poet reproves placing a preposition at the end of a sentence, and false Grammar; which is a fault unpardonable, for Hero's are not to speak with such exactness; Silly man, the Poet spoke to Poets, not to Country Hero's. But he had heard perhaps how King James rebuked Gundamore for speaking false Latin, and how Gundamore answered, that he spoke Latin like a King, and the King spoke Latin like a Schoolmaster, and from that excuse in jest, he has raised an Argument in earnest, that an Hero is not to speak Grammar, and so Poet Laureate is killed on the leg, and all Poets in him.  
And why (good Sir Adviser) is any to be reviled for the exactness of his skill? It is the first time sure, that any one was made culpable for being without fault. Well, he will not leave Poet so, on he goes with another Thrust; What does this (dramatic Poetry) signify to the practical virtue of a Gentleman? Sure the man cannot be so ignorant, as he seems, no body (though but easily skilled in Learning) but can give sufficient answer to the Question, however, can say it signifies more than his manly exercise of riding after a Deer. But (to wave common things) I can tell him, that I have been several times at a Play of that excellent Poets framing, whom he would revile, and I will maintain, there was more practical Divinity in it, then in several Country Sermons I have heard.  
Well, Sir, after a great deal of Billingsgatry against Poets, particularly against one of the best that ever England bred; he grows weary of him in good time, and fairly concludes, that the same man is of good life; his fault being (as it should seem) he is a Poet; and Poets are guilty of several faults besides, ergo, my Lord Major's Huntsman is an undoubted Hero. And now for damned Poet, a full thrust shall strike him to the heart. Poets are guilty of Atheism. I fear he mistook himself, and by Atheism meant Polytheism, for indeed, Modern Poets use Dii in stead of Deus, following still the Dialect of the Heathen roguish Poets, which must needs be an unpardonable Crime. But what if the Heathen Poets in that followed the Idiom of the Writer of the Pentateuch, in his Elohim, (and it's thought that Ovid had seen those Books) that Crime is become none. Atheism still sticks by their rib; as for example, some of the old Poets differed about the Creation of the World; Pray which of them did so? He dubs Aristotle and Epicurus Poets, and then condemus them for Atheists; and through them all Poets to this day are under that sentence.  
It is to be feared there are in the World too many practical Atheists, God bless the Adviser, for the Ignorant are Atheists, and 'tis the Fool said in his heart you know what, etc. but indeed, I hardly believe that he can instance in any one Modern Poet or other, that is in Judgement an Atheist, or that holds in Judgement, the concourse of Atoms by an undesigning impetuous chance to make a World; for if they believe not Moses, they will give credit to Ovid; well but the Town Poets are Atheists, ay that they are, no matter why or wherefore. I perceive Mr. Dryden has displeased your Tutor, Sir, and there is no more to be said, and so much for Atheism in Poets. Another fault, like it, is at hand; and that is a fault of Poets too, profane Poets, who believe mankind has suffered in nothing more than in the restraints of Wedlock, and so it's deplorable that the contempt of Wedlock is grown common; and the next great subject of their Discourse is the dishonour of Women, and they believe there were never any honest Women but those who lived solitarily, and were never attacked by a powerful Courtship.  
What a great many ill qualities had the persons with whom this man was acquainted? what, vilify Wedlock and dishonour Women? O grievous! I protest, Sir, I take it to be a fault, not of the least magnitude; and now I think on't, I have heard of some shallow-brained fellows (pretenders to Poetry) who have thrown about Lampoons and Satyrs, to their followers, who at Coffee houses and Taverns vent the Ware; this is done in the Country too, according to their little Wit. But, Sir, These are not reckoned among the Poets, but Poetasters, the true Poets being Philosophers, and frequent not such places, desiring their Works should savour of the oil rather than the Wine: and they hold Marriage a sacramental at least; and for Women, they think them the Glory of the present Age, as far transcending the Mould and Materials of former Times, as the other improvements of this Age exceeds former; and as much as any of that Beloved Sex exceeds in virtuous Accomplishments, so much the more does she attract to herself their Honour and Regard. Yet because it is so positively asserted that Wedlock and Women are disrespected by some, I have been thinking who they are, and how they came hither. It seems, they are naughty men who  Women; and I fear, 'tis naughty Women gives the occasion; but both are in London, and how came they there? were it not, Sir, for your Advisers' Atheism it might be thought that Epicurus sent them hither by an impetuous chance; but I am not of that mind I assure you. And now, Sir, we are discoursing of Wedlock, Women, and Breeding, etc. there comes a Story into my head, which, perhaps, you nor your Tutor never met in the course of your reading History; It has something in it of all those matters, and though it be somewhat long, you may bear with it, for it was bred and born in the Country, and in the Country resolves to die.  
There was a man, who was an old man, his name was Prosper Richman, and he was a rich man, had a plentiful number of Acres, and a goodly Manor-house, and a round sum of ready money. He was of an ancient Family, as old as Meum & Tuum; his Wife was the daughter of one Mr. Scrape, of Family equal, if not before the other; and a good Housewife she was, though not one of ten of that breed proves so. And these two by a sleight they had used, had seven Sons and three Daughters; the eldest Daughter was crooked, witty, but illnatured; the second was handsome straight, but consumptive; the third was very handsome, very young, but somewhat silly.  
These three Daughters (with the help of round sums of ready money, and the reputation of thriving Parents, were disposed of in marriage to three rich Country heirs, who were appointed to their marriages at the second interview, their Parents having before made the Matches.  
The Husband of the eldest, after some repititions of Love's Encounters had allayed his Passion, began to entertain mean thoughts of his Spouse; and she being by day froward and perverse, he accounted her the latter part of the night to be but a parcel of Bones crowdeed together into a Poke, and set upon two stilts, and so thought he was in Bed with a Skeleton: thence took a distaste at her, and grew desirous to be acquainted with the perfections of that Sex. In order to that, following his eyes, he fixes his fancy with some earnestness on Mal. the daughter of Mr. Boniface, Parson of the Parish; and at last obtained opportunity to bestow on her some Country Innocence. Afterward on some Tenants daughters, and by and by on his Maids one after another; insomuch that Aprons growing short among them, he sends them toties quoties to London, to some grave Woman, who in a Month's time can make any Apron as long as it was before, and you cannot see where it was mended. And (would you think it) by this doing between his Age of 20 years when he married, and 30, he sent to London on that errand a score of Women with their Appurtenances.  
As to the second Daughter, her husband liked her pretty well by day, but by night, being continually disturbed of his rest with her coughing, and in his stomach, with the unsavoury odours which arose from her breathing, and the great lumps of rotten Lungs which she belched forth on the spitting sheet, and some time on the Chamber: Troth, he in short time, loathed her, took such Courses as t'other had done, and then did, and furnished this Town of London; O unhappy London! with more than the other had done by five.  
He that married the third, (which was for symmetry of body, and excellent features very beautiful) promised himself great felicity in the enjoyment of her: but it fell out, that (by reason of her tender years) that which in riper persons makes a pleasurable Impression, and begets (besides what else) an endeared affection to her, signified the clear contrary; and indeed, to him, seemed punishment for marrying one not yet 15 years of Age: so she wanting Wit and natural courage, and fancying that conjugal Rites would never be performed at easier rates, either refused, or refused to assist those embraces which are the life of married state: wanting also knowledge in household affairs, carriage, and discourse, she became as little entertainment for her Husband by day as by night. Whereupon he takes Pet, espouses other societies, grows informed of the others vices, and by corrupt Nature is prompted to the lewd courses of other Brethren in Law; and sends the same way on the same errand, no less than nine in two years; and how many after that I heard not, nor have I heard of the sum total of the rest: but we may guests them to be a jolly number on a Judgement pro ratâ.  
And (which is remarkable on this third Daughter's part, beyond the rest) she became jealous of her Husband, and her Husband careless of her. And this news flying into the neighbouring Villages, the Country, sturdy young Fellows resorted to her; and what out of spite to her Husband, what out of itch, made, and clawed, by others not husband, she admitted offers, received them into her Embraces, and I know not what, fancied the motions, became affecter of Game, a lover of any but her Husband, and in fine, was in fair to make as many Rogues, as he did Whores.  
These Daughters of this mighty Family being thus (by the aid of great Portions) provided for, the good old Gentleman prides himself in the Companies of his goodly number of Sons, fancying every one to be a seventh, a Conjurer, a Fortune-teller, Magician, Cunning-man, or (at least) no Fool. He kept a House like the Old Courtier of the Queens, or the Queen's old Courtier. He had all his sons set about his Table, with their Hats on their heads, as they did at all times in Father's presence, though two of them were under 20. years of Age. These Sons could scarce read, or write their names well; And that happened thus; when the eldest was very young, and intended for School, a Puritan came to the good old Father, and told him of a pious Book called the Confessions of good Austin, which he had often read, and found that one of the first great offences that Holy man repent of after his Conversion, was robbing of an Orchard, which he was enticed to by the wicked solicitations of his Fellow-Scholars at a Grammar School; therefore, worthy Sir, (quoth he) send not your Son to School, for he will learn to rob Orchards, and then be forced to do Penance in old Age, and that before the uncircumcised Formalist of his Parish, according to the Idolatrous Rubric. At which discourse there happened to be present a Pedagogue, who took up the Cudgels in defence of School-Education, using many Arguments to that purpose: and for answer to the Orchard business, told of one of great Natural Wit, who bewailed his not going to a Free-School, for many reasons; in particular, for that he miss the opportunities, of Robbing Orchards, whereby he might have learned the Arts of Scaling of Walls, besieging of Towns, Approaches, Retreats, etc. at which the old Gentleman stopped him, saying, Hold Sir, I like not you, nor your Man of Natural Wit neither; who seems to me to be a man void of Grace, especially in comparison of this Godly man, whose directions I will follow; who hath informed me from the same Austin, that Grace is enough, without the profane Learning of the Heathens. And from that time he resolved against Learning, and provided for his Sons (according to the Country Education) a Huntsman, with a Kennel of Bloodhounds, Fox-hounds, Beagles, and Tarriers. A Falconer with Sparrow-hawks, Lanners, Tassels, and Goss-hawks. A Warrener with Tumblers and Lurkers, besides other implements of his Art. Another Servant who attended the Greyhounds, and Setting-Dogs: an Archer for the Longbow, Cross-Bow; and had the skill of Gun and Stalking-Horse too, and all his Materials and Instrnments of Game, were kept always at hand. A Fisherman used his time well about the Ponds, Dams, and Meers, in furnishing the Table with most sorts of Freshwater Fish, and made it pleasant in the taking them, with Angles, Trolls, Snares, Nets, and other Engines. There was also a Billiard-Table, Shovel-board, Chessboard, Cards, Dice, Nine-Pins, and they that would might also play at Nine holes, or Span Counter. There was designed a Tennis Court to be built, but one (like your Adviser, Sir) came and told, that it was used at London, and that naughty people used to come thither, and to go from thence to naughty places, which spoilt the project, So strange a thing is a prejudiced mind, as if a Tennis Court were not less noxious than Cards and Dice, yet such is the foolish admiration of persons, That Errors are espoused, for the Author's sake, and some such weighty reason, pulled down the Tennis Court at New-market.  
But to our business again, Sir, i. e. to the Story of the seven Sons, who you see were provided for to make Country Hero's, far beyond what your Adviser has mentioned to you.  
Sir, These young Gentlemen every day made use of some of these divertisements, and doubtless became good proficients therein; only George, one of the youngest, often stayed at home, pretending to break his Fast with Curds and Cream, Fresh Butter, and New brown Bread, Buttermilk, or Whey; and doing often so, the eldest Brother Ezekiel, fancied the Dairy afforded something more pleasant than what he knew, and so watched George on a time, and through a Creviss perceived that George had found out a Recreation not provided for by the Old man; and that was, to help Tydy the Dairy Maid to Churn; which Churning was done after such a manner, as made Ezekiels Teeth to water, as if Buttermilk or Whey had a Spring in his mouth. All this Ezekiel kept to himself, and when George was a Hunting then he helped to Churn with Tydy; which privilege he obtained, to keep Counsel and (on the same score) every one of the Brothers had their turns, and I think she was well helped to Churn; insomuch that by overlabouring, or by one thing or another, the poor Wench grew sick a mornings, and you might see her red Stockings half way up her legs, which made her ask leave to go home to her Friends; and being granted, was conveyed to London, at the charge of the Eldest Brother only; for he stood on his reputation, as heir of the Family, and in hopes of preferment courted secrecy: but George and the rest, as they had no more then younger Brothers expectancies, so expected no disparagement by a younger Brothers Frolic.  
And from that time ('tis strange such a thing should happen in Innocent Country) there was not a Maidservant could stay in that Family above six Months, what became of them I know not; but it is said that a great many Women Folk went from that house to London.  
Well, Sir, By this time Age gave the old Gentleman an intimation of removing to t'other World: so he sent for the Parson whose name was Lionel Drinkwell, who made his Will; by which his wife was made Executrix, and all his Manors, Lands, Tenements, and Hereditaments, was bequeathed to Ezekiel, his eldest Son; he gave to his second, third, and fourth Son 100 l per annum a piece, during life; and to the other three younger Sons he gave 1000 Marks a piece, and made the said Parson, and one Mr. Getmore, a Neighbour, Supervisors, desiring them in all love to be aiding and assisting to his said Sons, with friendly advice, and so he died, was buried, and forgotten: After whose death, the heir grew Housekeeper, the old Gentlewoman doing all the Offices of a Wife (excepting what Tydy used to do.) The Brothers also (paying for their Board's) continued their former Courses, went to Bed early, slept quietly, by the help of Idaea's had glorious dreams, risen before the Sun, sported on the beautiful Foot-cloths of Nature; and twenty things more, besides wasting their Portions. Soon after it happened, one Thomas Lender of London a Pawn-Broker, died of the Plague intestate, leaving a Widow of about 35 years of Age, after whose death, she caused her husband's Goods to be Inventoried and Appraised; in which Inventory was mentioned in Bonds 5000 l. in the Shop, in Jewels, Plate, Watches, Books, and other Goods 5000 l. in toto 10000 l. she being affrighted at the Disease, which had taken away her Husband, removed into Country for a time, and happened into this Mr. Richman's Town; and growing acquainted with this Family, by discourse was discovered, that her late Husband's Mother was of the Family of the Scrapes, and so a kind of affinity was started between her and them; and improved so far, as she was desired to reside (during her stay in the Country) at that House, where she had not long been, ere the Widow imparted the value of her Estate, which took presently with the old Woman, who could not rest till she had engaged a Treaty between her and her Son Ezekiel for a Marriage; and though the Widow had nothing to commend her to his acceptance, but her wealth, yet that Argument improved by an indulgent Mother's descants, prevailed for a Match, which was soon dispatched; and the joy that the hopes of this round sum of money brought, occasioned open House-keeping for a month, and public Entertainment for all comers, which cost at least 1000 l. soon after which Jollities ended, the Bride and Bridegroom went to London with purpose to remove the Treasure into the Country; but when they came there, consulting some wiser than the former Apprisers, it was found that the Jewels, Plate, and other Goods, were indeed of the value of 5000 l. but they were pawned but for 1500 l. and the sums mentioned in the Bonds, were indeed of the value, but by the conditions of those Bonds, it appeared that the Bonds were given only for further security, for the same Moneys lent on the Goods; so she was worth in truth but 1500 l. whereof 1000 l. was spent on the Weddingsolemnities.  
This angered good Ezekiel to the heart, and his old Mother too, who cursed London Widows, and advised the younger Sons to stay in the Country still, lest they also should be cheated; not considering this Trick was in the Country, and lay at their own door, through want of Wit and Consideration, which the Wit of the Town would have obviated.  
The new married man wanting the Whetstones of his Love, Beauty, and Money, neglected his Wife, even to hatred, returned to the ways his Brother George had taught him, and followed that course, till he and his Brothers had almost emptied the Country of Maids. His Wife not being in his debt, received as good Visits as he made; and between them both, the Government of the House seemed dissolved: a mixed concourse of Visitants constantly filling the Beds, emptying the Bottles (for they were used also to drive away discontent) the Buttery, and Treasury; so that the name of Richman began to seem improper for person and place.  
The younger Sons following the way of their Education, (notwithstanding grave Supervisors advice) became so clearsighted as to see to the furthest end of their Portions, without the help of a Teloscope; the Annuities being deeply dipped to Mr. Getmore one of the Supervisors, by the procurement of his Partner, the trusty Parson, on whom, and at whose House, much of the money was spent; and the Portions of money, in like manner was three parts spent.  
Whereupon they considered, that they were of good extraction, having pure and uncommon blood leaping in their veins, that they had been educated in the way of Country Hero's, that universal expectation claimed from them things generous and heroic, and how to carry on noble Enterprises, and to arrive at great and honourable ends, with a remnant of Estate, in the Deserts of the World (for so they now call the Country) by the trifling vanities of sports (so now they called the Country divertisements) must be thought on: and without much ado, labour, or study, it was concluded, (and so soon as one would think it was dictate of Nature) to London they must go, and try their fortunes; and to London they went, and not having fortune enough, or good enough, to purchase the friendship of Court nor Learning enough to join with the Societies of Learning, nor money enough left to fall into Commerce, nor courage enough to take up Arms; they furnish themselves with Peruches and Pantaloons, and find out the Wastcoateers formerly sent from the Country for the better shaping of their Bodies, who had improved themselves by this time into the exactness of some eminent Vices, especially of that which they brought from the Manor of Richman, and now were become able to instruct their Country Gallants, and to bring them acquainted with others, such as your grave Adviser, Sir, has by long experience known, and has elaborately told you of, and so we leave them together, and there is an end of the Story.  
Sir, As soon as this Story was told me, I was thinking, that if it were duly considered in all its branches, and well weighed, it would be an answer to your Advisers' Letter, without more ado; but it coming but now to my hands, I here insert it.  
Sir, As for a Story where the Sons of Country Gentlemen have by good and proper Education, become true Hero's, Patriots of their Country, and possessing eminent ranks of Authority and Dignity; I take it needless, referring you to Beloved History, either in City or Country, from which may be collected Volumes of such Hero's, exceeding Fox's Book of Martyrs, and truer too. And (though the obliquities of the late Times have discouraged Learning to a great degree, and laid shackles on gentlemen's Parts and Estates, yet) since our Sovereign's return, it's obvious, that greater improvements have been made by the Scyons of Nobility and Gentry in all Arts, in 12 Years, than in an hundred before.  
But, Sir, to the Letter again, and let us see more of the Town faults, and a great one rises next; and that is, a Language (divers from the times of our Ancestors) is in London used. Language said he? Marry till now I took London to speak the best Language of all England, and England to speak the best Language except the universal one: but I am told otherwise now, this Age, this Nation is corrupt in its Language. A bold charge is it on the wisest Age, and wisest Nation, and where is the fault? in using French words; vile French, even vile French words, unworthy of the manly Language of English to use French words.  
Sure, this Man, Sir, has been stung with a Bee, and now loves no Honey. He has, perhaps, suffered under some distemper called French— and so will starve, rather than eat fricassee or Ragoo.  
But a serious word, Sir, Our Language of England is that of those Germans called Saxons, who possessed themselves thereof, next preceding the Normans; and that Language was mostly Monosyllables, of which Radixes have since been made Compounds; and though it has been thought that from such various Roots might arise Compound-words answerable, and so no need of what is Foreign; yet in that Age, and that People, Knowledge was stinted, and few words would express few things, and so no need was there of enlarging the Lingua, or opportunity for it. Historians tell us, that when the Normans expulsed the English, among the Clerks in Holy Orders, if one had learned the Grammar, every one wondered at him as a mighty Scholar.  
After that time Learning began to increase, and by the Normans, came the French Tongue hither, and though they could not introduce their Laws, yet their Language they did, and put our Laws into it; by reading of which, and conversing with them, grew a mixture of Tongues with the French, which has been improved by a commerce more familiar with that Nation than with any other.  
And it's true, that in this last Age, wherein our Nation has out done all others in the superstructures of true Science, several terms of Art have mixed with our ordinary discourses, which by reason of their easiness to intelligence, can hardly be avoided.  
And it's remarkable, that what words soever our Nation has adopted, they are most significant of the things they express, and so occasion a succinct and comprehensive stile in our Conversation and Writing.  
And as for the old Dotage of keeping to our first Language, which was Teutonick; I would ask your Adviser, Sir, to give me one instance of any People that does it. Let him look into Verstegan for the Monosyllables, and acquaint with the High and Low Dutch, Normay, Sweden, and Denmark, and see if any of them retain the old Teutonick, and how much, and how they differ from it, and among themselves, and he shall soon find that every one of them, as well as we, do differ from the serious manly Language of our common Ancestors, as they are severally situated in the several parts of their respective Nations; so do we in England. An instance whereof you may have in Verstegan, who thereby answers himself in the whimsy your Adviser borrowed from him.  
As one will say at London,  
I would eat more Cheese if I had it.  
The Northern man says,  
Ay sud eat mare Cheese gin ay hadet.  
And the Western man says,  
Chud eat more Cheese an chad it.  
Be you Judge now, Sir, who speaks best English, London or Country. And I challenge all his Country Hero's, who were never educated in London, to caress you with an Harangue like that of his remarks, which (as the matter is Romantic, so the stile Rhodomontade, sufficiently laced with Foreign words, rude French and all) does amply turn upon himself, and silence the impertinent complaint. And so much shall suffice to have been delivered concerning the old, serious, manly, English Language. Only I must not forget, that after his invectives against French, he kindly says, That Language is highly necessary to all that frequent Courts, and that have to do in the important affairs of the World. This startled me, when he says, French Tongue is necessary to Courtiers, and those concerned in important affairs, and yet not to you, whom he designed and advised to be a Hero. It made me recollect myself, and consider what a Hero is. I find the word is not Teutonick no more than Idaea, Chimaera, Conduct, Regiment, with many others, which are for this time deigned worthy to be the embroidery of his Lines, and the Livery of his Pages. But I found out what usually English men understand by this Remarqueable word Hero, and it happens to be the very same, that the Greek word imports, viz. one who has attained to great Renown, by great Parts, Knowledge, and generous Achievements, in the ways of Arts, Arms, or other the important affairs of the World; to such a one as this the French Tongue (it seems) is highly necessary.  
Then, Sir, while he inveighs against the French Tongue to you, judge you what manner of Hero he would have you to be; you are to be a Hero, but the necessariums to it you must avoid.  
Mahomet told his Prosylites that he should be like a great Ram with a great Fleece, and they should be like little Fleas shrouding themselves in his Fleece, and then he would give a jump into Paradise, and carry them with him. Just so, your Adviser Sir, is to jump you into a Hero. You must abhor the French Tongue, not have to do in the important affairs of the World, nor frequent Courts, nor so much as see wicked London; but you must be a Hero, ay that you must; you must live in Ignorance, and become like an useless Country Vermin, and King Oberon, at a lucky chance, shall ipso facto Metamorphose you into a Hero: A chance indeed, like that the Proconsul spoke of to St. Austin, in the Discourse of Judicial Astrology, viz. the force of chance diffused about in the nature of things, brings to pass as foretold, etc.  
Sir, I must tell you it must be a chance, and a very lucky one too, that will make you a Hero, without means or endeavours. A Privy Counsellor, Lord Lieutenant, a General, are not Hero's as such, but as they are qualified to be such.  
Advance we two or three steps further, and there we shall meet your Remarquer, Sir, at the turn of a Corner, ready to scare you, as he scares Children in the Country, and cries don't go to London, for Tom Poker will get you and put you into his Pocket. You must write a Play. Sir, his design being to keep you in ignorance, and fright you with Learning, he might rather have said, if you go to London, you must plead Causes, Anatomize humane Bodies, pass Fiery Trials with Prince Robert and Mr. Boil, in the Laboratories, etc. this had been a noise able to scare a good chubbed Country Fellow; or like Tays the Moving Clod, that scared the Tuscan Ploughman.  
But, Sir, notwithstanding this Country Chancellor's Decretal Musts, I do assure you (on my credit) you are no more obliged to write a Flay, than your Marksman was to write his Letter; either of which may be accounted a bold undertaking, the success being so hazardous.  
And since we are speaking of writing Plays and Books, I must observe to you, that about the time your Letter was published, there was a Comedy acted at London: in which (to see how good Wits may jump) was all the wit of the Letter, and a thousand times more.  
There was a Country Hero among a company of poor, ignorant, brutish Boors (that word is Teutonick) drinking, sotting, telling news, and particularly concerning that great City called Ditto in the Gazette, and the miserable estate of Poland: railing at London, charging all the Blunderbusses and Granades of his Office, in defiance of all that should laugh at an Ignorant-Justice-Captain of 2000 l. per annum, and hoped to be Deputy-Lieutenant: and, in short, one, who by the help of a fierce Dapple-grey Mare, and an obsequious Setting Dog, judged himself a greater Hero than London ever saw.  
This Hero's name, Sir, was Hugh Clodpate Esq of an Ancient Family, known in all the Counties of England, the Plays name was Epsom Wells. I advise you, Sir, to send up to London, for a Copy of it, for 'tis not yet printed; lest it should spoil the sale of the remarks, there is an ingenious Gentleman, by name Mr. Shadwel, who may help you to it, and then you may compare the one with the other. I dare say the Author of one was not of the other, for the Play is a thing of great ingenuity: and there is another difference between the Play and the Book; for what the Poet did in jest, this Epistler does in earnest; that is to give a Reprimand to some absurdities of the Town, next, to render Townhaters ridiculous.  
Sir, If you come to Town, and the worst comes to the worst, if you can't write a Play, you may write a silly Book, and swagger against them who can write Plays, and say, that this Fantastical necessity was imposed upon you, and you were not obliged to bazard your abilities on such niceties of Fame and Humour: and so winding yourself up in a few wrathful sheets, they become Armour of Proof against all London Foes, who will sufficiently feel the smart of your fatal rap: as others (God wots) have done to their grief and sorrow. Witness (in the next place) unhappy Inns of Court, unhappy, yea verily unhappy, in being the objects of the ill will of this mighty Hero-maker.  
Sir, As to these contemptible Bodies, he is pleased to cut them in three Morsels, yet is able to devour them at one Bit.  
The first are the Practisers of the Law, the Idea of whose conversation (he says) is very Pedantic, and unpollished, and in truth, not worthy of a Gentleman; concealing Truth, tiring out the Votaries of Justice, forcing Conscience to truckle under the love of money, and having nothing agreeable to the Principle of nobleness. Pray, Sir, when you read this, did not you take this man to be Non-Compos? to have spent his time in a College situate between Bishopsgate and moorfield's, thinking no man, but one touched in his Brain, could rave so formally, and render himself in such prodigious Untruths, and profane scurrilities; he seems to borrow the humour from a Modern Wrangler, who out of spite to the Royal Society, scolds at my Lord Bacon for promoting of Practical Philosophy: and against all Common Lawyers, because Oldenbarnevelt (a Civilian) was an Arminian in the Netherlands; so eager Wolves bark at the Moon, so mad Dogs by't all but mad Men.  
But, Sir, As for the Inns of Court, they have been and are at this day owned by all Foreigners and Domestics to whom they are known, as the most renowned Societies, as well for the Profession of the Law, as for the Law they profess, that the World has. And as to the persons in highest Vogue, for their excellency in that Science, (having by indefatigable industry subdued the difficulties of their own Art, and by that made themselves Masters of the greatest Reason and Judgement, which attends any other Body of Learning) can and do entertain their Vacations with inquiries into other parts of Knowledge, which with much easiness do readily fall under their comprehension. And being so furnished, are also endued with a stock of Prudence, that capacitates them for a deportment answerable to the Circumstances of Times, Places, and Persons; whether it be in the more grave and reserved way, which their Profession, or other Knowledge, or the Societies of strict men obliges them to: or in the Paths that Men and Learning of lower Forms (called more generous and delightsome) leads them to. And he must be a great stranger among us, who cannot instance in great Sages of our Common-Law, who have been eminent, even in the retired Walks of other Learning, that have designed endeavours to the perfecting of the Works of Nature; or rather improving Natures to the best advantages of life, and the common benefit of mankind, as has been said of them by some of sufficient prejudice against that Profession; and there are now being persons of so general knowledge (not seasonable to mention) as no other Society of single Learning can parallel.  
Sure, Sir, This No-mans-friend, has had some ill luck at Law, he may have dealt in some cracked Title, or engaged in some unwarrantable suit, that would not hold Water; and because his Lawyers could not Buoy him up in his undertake, to't goes the Profession; or perhaps some less thing may exasperate a waspish man, and make him buzz. There was one Pawlet, who had vowed never to come to London; and being Defendant to a suit in Chancery, had the Court moved for a Commission to answer in the Country, alleging for Cause, his Vow, of which affidavit was made. The Lord Chancellor Egerton said it was a foolish Vow, and ordered an Attachment against him. But what ill hap has touched our Author, as I know not, so I care not.  
There is another sort of men (it seems) in the Inns of Court, with whom (I perceive) he has had more in timate acquaintance, for he describes them knowingly, and they are the vain, imperfect, and half-witted part. Sir, It has been observed, that Venus had a Mole on her Cheek, Helen a Scar on her Chin, Aristippus a Wart, Lycurgus a Wen, and the Moon her Spots, and its probable that Societies made up of thousands, may have among them some extravagants: and what then? Then it follows, as he says, there is a third sort of men there of great abilities and virtues; and to these he has nothing to say; but this I must say, it was his unhappiness that his long experience, found them not out to converse with; 'tis like they are part of the number of those mentioned in his Preface, who are so retired.  
Well, Sir, For a little Application. Is it so, that there are three sorts of men in the Inns of Court, one too grave and morose, the other too light and lewd, the third of Abilities and Virtues; then for Instruction, (according to grave Adviser) go not to London, but stay in the Country, and learn of old Mother Huggins, to lay Eggs under her Sow to hatch Collops and Eggs, which will come to pass at the same time, when a mere Boorishlife makes any one a Hero  
Come we now, Sir, to the last sort of vile People, that this Reprobate Town suffers to reside within her Walls: and though he tells you, that he is sure you will not spend your time with them, yet he is resolved Hit miss, or Happego-luck, (according to the Country Teutonick) to have a blow at their Jack: and these are a sort of inconsiderable Mushrooms, Grovelling in Mechanics, and pinioning the minds of men with mean Arts. What a Pes●od does this man mean? he still mistakes Terms and so understands not Arts. He took, sure, Mechanic to be derived from the Town Mecha, which he met with in Beloved History, and thence concluded that all Arts called echanick, were Infidel Arts, and brought hither by Turks, and so had an assurance, that you would not keep Company with such Artists. What else he should mean, is hard to conjecture; his medley description putting us to a loss in discovering this dangerous Tribe, this Sect of New Philosophers, for here is no New Philosophy in Town. Yet (methinks) I should guests by his gaping what he means, may be the Epithet Mechanic, being used (properly enough) to meanest Handicrafts, he thinks all Arts and Artists mean to which it's applied: but there is his mistake and ignorance, however some Coffee-house-Wags, and Sonnet-Mongers (who (he says) have visited him in the Country) may have foolishly in their road of idle Droll thrown the notion into his Noddle; with some undue reflections.  
For there are, Sir, in this Town Mechanic Philosophers in a Body compounded of the Royal Blood, the Nobility in Church and State, the Prime of all the Learned men in England, and some Foreigners; which Body has for its Head no less than that which wears an imperial Crown. These are, Sir, the new Mecanick Philosophers, whom your Remarker celebrates with the encomiums of grovelling in Mechanics, and pinioning men's minds with mean Arts.  
Now, Sir, out of respect to you, I'll tell you what Mechanic signifies; it comes from the Greek word which signifies Artifice or Invention; and Mechanical Arts are now taken to be such Arts in which the labour and use of the hand is required and are called such in contradiction to Arts barely Speculative, and Notional, and under that appellation, are contained, edicine, Military Discipline, Agriculture, Clothing, Navigation, Architecture, and many others, together (if you please) Hunting; in which last there is more Philosophy than all your Country and Adviser too, understand.  
These mean Arts, Sir, poor despicable London Philosophers are glad to busy themselves withal, while Hugh Clodpate and his fellows (in the Country) can (as he says in the Play) content themselves with good Ale, Beef, Mutton, which are their own Manufactures, and with sleeping quietly, dreaming gloriously, and sporting on Nature's beautiful Footcloths, become Hero's of the Country stamp, and (by the help of a Remarker) rival the new Philosophers, who have stored the World with such a Body of Natural practical Philosophy, and made it so subservient to the Public Good, that neither the Imperious Stagarite, (as he calls him) nor Theophrastus among the Ancients, nor Paracelsus, and the rest of the Chemists of former Times, are very considerable, as was said to be the hopes of the Lord Bacon, had he lived, and is now the effects of the generous and noble Erterprises of those admirable persons known by the illustrious Appellation of the Royal Society. And now again judge you, Sir, how sure this Confident may be that you will not keep company with these persons, there being scarce one single person among them, whose company is not acceptable to the greatest Hero's.  
On he goes, Sir, and meeting with the Merchant at half turn, gives him a fillip on the finger, and tells him he is one whose business is Profit and Interest, without any design upon the improvement of Arms, Letters, or Conversation, nor worthy your Company, Sir, and so farewell him. In good time, the man seems to come to his Wits, and is now for Arms, Letters, and Conversation, which the Merchant, (by which, I suppose, he means all Traders) he says, is not for. Even as much (say I) as the mere Country Sir Simon, unless the Buff coat, Leading-Staff, the A, B, C, and Tub of Ale be Arms, Letters, and Conversation. And, Sir, as slight as he makes of Merchandise, all Ages have shown men of Commerce as like Hero's as ever he saw, who have been Governors of Towns of War, and Counsellors of State: and though there is reported an Age (long since) to have been, in which it was accounted disparagement to marry with a Merchant's Daughter; if that were true, it's now otherwise, and Country Hero's find by Experience, that if Tradesmens daughters become not Mistresses, the Tradesmen themselves become Masters of many great Manors in spite of Country Hero-ship.  
And as for the Citizens of London themselves in general, what by reason of the aforesaid occasions of Giving, and Lending moneys, and Daughters and Intermarriages: the converse and acquaintance thereby gained with persons of highest Rank, together with the help of inherent qualities derived from their Parents, being mostly the Sons of Gentlemen, and the general improvement of the Knowledge and Manners of this Town. They are (at this day) become men of such outward Parade, and inward accomplishments, that the better sort of them are received by the best Gentry, and an ordinary London Mechanic outdoes Justice Clodpate and his 2000 l. per annum.  
Well, farewel Merchant, on goes Tarlton, and having danced two or three Jigs with his Jews-trump and Tongues to make you merry; he falls himself into O exclamantis. Oh, sweet Sir, what will your Mother say, if you miscarry? She has set you in the Cluster of Hero's, but she must now see you growing dim and sullied in the Circle of so bright a Race. What, Must again! Pray, Sir, for my satisfaction, if not for your own, when you see this man of Art next, ask him, supposing such lewd People to be in London, (as it is to be feared there are too many there, and in the Country too) why must you be a Reprobate? what damned Fate hangs over your head, that (of all men living) you must not come to London? and if you do, you that are set by your Mother in the cluster of Hero's, will by the Lawyers, New Philosophers, and Poets, be set in the cluster of Hellhounds? ay, and you will dote so much on the Town, as you will be a stranger in your Country; ay, and (like Justice) you must be a stranger in your Country. How, is Justice a stranger in your Country? I am sorry to hear of so barbarous a Country; and believe it, I think it high time for you to remove, you are like to have precious Conversation, where's no Justice, and brave Country Hero's too, and good Justicers: I fear your Man of Wrangle has railed the Lawyers out of your Country, and Justice with them; the Statute banishing the two Spencers, Father and Son, has this Article against them, that they made Justices who were not conversant in the Laws of the Land; they having in stead thereof, put ignorant men into those Offices, whom they could easily impose upon, and warp to unjust attempts. Sir, if this be the Case of your Country, and the Cause that Justice is a stranger there, I think you must go to London, either to become a Lawyer, to converse and acquaint with those morose men of Justice, or to procure one or more to go inhabit your Country, that Justice may be no longer a Stranger there; else (methinks) you hazard yourself among a Herd of Tories. This is (pardon me Sir) if the Remarker says true; and who knows, but he sometimes do so? I verily believe him, when he says, Sir, We that have hither to been honoured with your Friendship, shall not know after what manner to receive you, when you return from the Town; we know you will sufficiently despise not only our capacities, but our courage, whilst we can neither talk nor act at your admirable rate: nor, I believe, will you ever be able to inspire us with your gallantry of mind.  
Sir, Whether this man be skilled in Figures as well as Letters, and so how he intended these words, I know not, for men to whom Justice is a stranger, may say one thing and mean another. But (in plain English) after you have with sobriety and industry imbibed the harmless and virtuous improvements of the Town, and made yourself candidate for a true Hero-ship, the Ignorantees and Clodpates of the Country will not know how to receive you at your return, and perhaps, you may look with a despising Brow, or the capacities and courage of despicable Wretches, who live strangers to Justice, and cannot talk nor act at your admirable rate. And (which I believe will trouble you) you will not be able to inspire them with your gallantry of mind, they being so addicted to a sleeping, dreaming life, destitute of the improvements you will be then Master of.  
And since, Sir, this Country Philosopher has concluded so luckily for Truth; some few lines of his own, having answered all his Book; since (after some few Traverses on the Stage with three or four Papers of the Powder of Experience in his hand) he has bequeathed them to you as the last Legacy of a dying Remarker, and so taken his leave of you. I shall only say to him, that as to some of his Letter; had it been well appointed to proper Objects, it is not without its weight, and I wish it might obtain good ends; but, as to what is pointed towards you, with the many unaccountable musts, I take it wholly insignificant and idle, and shall tell him one story more, and take leave of him.  
A French Mill-Wright, who was excellent, in his own conceit, because he could make a Mill well, thought he could make an Engine of Wheels that should grind all sorts of Corn, and with Edgetools to turn Spits, and give the hour of the Day as a Clock: but having spent his brains and his pains about it, he was (at last) said to content himself with a Nutcracker of it, and glad he escaped so too.  
Now, Sir, as to you, after a hearty desire tendered, to see a man of your growing hopefulness, Qualifications, and Circumstances, to be (by the help of due advantages and proper methods) improved into an undoubted true English Hero; and to see you at London for that end, and with that resolution; and with assurance of unfeigned purposes to serve you in that design, I take leave, and remain,  
Sir, Your most affectionate humble Servant.  
FINIS.