OBSERVATIONS ON Monsieur de Sorbier's VOYAGE INTO ENGLAND.  
Written to Dr. WREN, Professor of Astronomy in Oxford.  
BY THOMAS SPRAT, ●ellow of the Royal Society.  
LONDON, ●rinted for john Martin, and james Allestry, Printers to the Royal Society. 1665.   

A LETTER Containing some Observations On MONSIEUR de SORBIERE'S Voyage into ENGLAND.  
Written to Doctor WREN, Professor of ASTRONOMY in OXFORD.  By Tho. SPRAT. Sed poterat tutior esse Domi. 
SIR,  
I Here send You the Account, which Monsieur de Sorbiere has gi●en of his Voyage into Enggland. And though it be an insolent Libel on our Nation, yet I doubt not, but you will peruse it with delight. For when you have beheld how many errors, and falsehoods, he has committed in this small Relation; you cannot but be well pleased to find, that whoever undertakes to defame your Country, he must at the same time, forfeit his Wit, and his Understanding, as well as his good Manners.  
The King of France ha● already given him an effe●ctual Answer. And it became the justice of so great a Monarch, while he was defending the Interest of the Christian Faith with his arms, to punish a pragmatical Reviler of one of the most powerful Kingdoms in Christendom: and while he was exacting satisfaction from the Pope himself, for an affront offered to his Ambassador, to take care that none of his own Subjects should presume to injure the reputation of his neighbours, and nearest Allies.  
This just Reply which has been publicly made to this rude satire, was the cause that it has not been hitherto confuted by an English Gentleman of your acquaintance, who had undertaken it, whose Wit we might have opposed against him, if he had still flourished at Paris, with the Title of Historiographer Royal, though all his mighty boasts of his own abilities had been true. But however, though he is now below our excellent Friend's consideration; yet I think myself engaged to see him corrected. For having now under my hands the History of the Royal Society, it will be in vain for me to try to represent its design to be advantageous to the glory of England, if my Countrymen shall know that one who calls himself a member of that Assembly, has escaped unanswered in the public disgraces, which he has cast on our whole Nation.  
I will therefore Sir, briefly take him into a calm examination. And that you may understand how I intent to proceed with him, I do here in the beginning profess, that I will not vindicate the honour of the English, by making reflections on the French. I will not endeavour to repair our own fame on the ruins of others. I will have no contention but with himself. I will only put together, and compare, the mistakes, the incoherences, the vanities of his Book. And (to confess a secret to you, Sir,) I am resolved to take this course in answering him; not only because I abhor the sordid way of Wit, of abusing whole Nations: but also because I am not much enamoured of the glory of his punishment. For I cannot think that it is worth a man's while, that can live quietly here at London, to have the honour of making three or four ill-natured jests, on a whole Kingdom, with the hazard of being justly banished into Flint or Denbigh for ones labour.  
I must confess Sir, I came at first to read him with some expectations. I had before seen what he had written in praise of those two great Men, the Ornaments of France, Gassendus, and De Marcu the Archbishop of Paris. And I had some good hope, that the familiarity, which he pretended to have had with them, had taught him some of their good Qualities: that from the first he had taken that candour, and modesty, which the world admires in his writings: and from the other he had learned with what respect he ought to treat the fame of whole Nations, Churches, and Sovereign Princes, by that admirable defence, which he has made of the Gallican privileges. Besides this, Sir, I took his Book into my hands with the grea●er goodwill, because I had some knowledge of his person: I had seen him at the Royal Society: I had been a witness with what civility he had been there entertained: I had been informed what kindness he had received at Oxford: I had heard what favour the King had shown him, by admitting him to private discourses with him in his Cabinet. And from all this I was encouraged to believe, that he had given an honourable, or at least a just description of England. But I quickly perceived how much I was disappointed: I presently saw what difference there is between scribbling fine Harangues on virtuous Men, and real virtue itself. I straight found that instead of the good intentions, which he says, 
Pref.  he never wants, the greatest part of his Treatise consists of ill-grounded reproaches: that he has ventured on many things, whereof it was impossible he should receive an account: that where he might be supposed to have some tolerable knowledge, his malice has perverted his understanding: and that through the whole course of his Observations, he has by his own example made good that character, which he often in this Book bestows on humane Nature in general, 
P. 188.  that mankind is most pleased with trifles, and that we are all credulous and Liars.  
In his Epistle Dedicatory, he assures the most Christian King, that the principal motive of his journey, was a desire to advance his Majesty's glory. The Design was commendable, and worthy an Historiographer Royal. But what course did he take to increase his renown? he says, that he traveled abroad, on purpose to spread throughout the world, the fame of his Majesty's munificence to himself. I beseech you, Sir, how long will your English modesty overwhelm you? how much reason have You real Philosophers, and Mathematicians, to have high thoughts of yourselves, if it shall be allowed to a man, who has only got some name by creeping into your companies, to believe himself so considerable, that his Master's liberality to him aught to make to all mankind admire his Magnificence? The Christian world has better signs of the greatness of the King of France's mind: his armies, and money have been honourably employed against Algiers and Constantinople. Amidst all these glorious expenses, what a mighty sound does it make, that the famous Monsieur de Sorbiere did receive a small stipend out of his Treasury?  
But that you may the better understand, who this great man is, that can either exalt, or diminish the honour of Princes with a word of his mouth: I entreat you to hear his own description of himself. I will only repeat in his own words, the praises, which in the compass of a few leaves, he has given his own merits: by which you may guess how unjustly he has misplaced, the titles of proud, and arrogant, 
P. 133.  when he bestowed them on one of the best Natured, and bashfullest Nations in the world. He brags, 
E. Ded.  that he has spent all his life, in advancing the reputation, and sustaining the interests of the Sciences; 
E. Ded.  that he has always pushed on, and encouraged the great Masters of Knowledge to labour: that he has made a noise wherever he came: 
P. 201.  that he has got a discretion how to judge of good things: 
E. Ded.  that he has mingled himself in the intrigues of the Muses; 
E. Ded.  that he has been so happy, as to be heard by them, and to get some credit amongst them: 
E. Ded.  that he holds a constant commerce with the chief heads of Parnassus: 
Pref.  that he has either been acquainted with all the learned men of the Age, or has had certain information concerning them: 
E. Ded.  that his King did not favour him, without understanding him ●ell.  
Now Sir, would not any man that reads this conclude, that Monsieur de Sorbiere is his own Historian, more than the King of France's. Is this conformable to his own Rule, which he says he prescribes to himself, 
P. 93.  not to make Eulogies on any man? Before he had da●'d to have said so much of himself, ought he not to have exceeded julius Scaliger in his Learning, and his nobility, as well as he has done in his spite to our Country? whereas the plain, and the true story of Monsieur de Sorbier's life, is only this, he was borne at Orange, and for a long time professed the Protestant Religion, all or the greatest part of his Writings have been only some fe●● Letters, a small Panegyrics or two, a translation of Mr● Hobbes's de Cive, into French this Description of England and another of Holland. Hi● first employment was to teach a younger Son of the Count de la Suze, than he was made Usher to a School in his Native City. Both these places he lost upon suspicion of some heterodox opinions in the fundamentals of Christianity. In this discontent he came to Paris, renounced his Religion, and turned Papist. And at last, by many insinuations and flatteries, he obtained to have the profits of a small Canonship of Avignon settled upon him. This Sir, 
P. 201.  is all the Bruit that Monsieur de Sorbiere has made in the world. And this Confident of the Muses, this Darling of Parnassus, this Favourite of Cardinals, this Companion of Governors of Provinces, this Censurer of Nations, this Judge of Kings, though he strove to advance himself by 〈◊〉 Religions, in the one did never rise to a higher office then of a Pe●d●nt, in the other never go● a greater preferment, then ● pitiful Sin● Cure of two hundred crowns a ●ear.  
And yet you have no reason to think that he has been wanting to himself all this while, seeing in this very Epistle you find him in plain terms beseeching his Majesty, 
E. Ded.  that he would employ him. 'Tis a modest request. But what other place is that which he can desire? he says that he has already been glorified with the title of Trumpeter. 

P. 201.  
E. Ded.   After this, whither would his Ambition lead him? 
E. Ded.  In this Warfa● of Letters (give me leave to prosecute his own Metaphor) the name of Trumpeter best become● him. For (according to his Brother Trumpeter's defence of himself in the Fable) it is never required of ●uch officers, that they should engage in the fight, or do any Real Service, but they are only used for a show, and to make a noise.  
As for his other Qualification of Historiographer Royal, I will show you in one instance how he deservs it. He tells his King● that he has reported in every Country where he came, 
E. Ded.  the prodigious benefits, that heaven ha● heaped upon him: that to the Statesmen he has proclaimed his Industry in business, and the strength of his judgement: to the Soldiers, his Valour: to the Friends of the Church of Rome, his Piety: to the Grandees, the Pomp of his Court: and to the Fair Sex, his good Mien. These, Sir, are all Brave words, and he had a glorious subject, whereon to amplify. But let us consider the authority of his testimony. For Monsieur de Sorbiere, the King's Historiographer, when he might have had so much better intelligence● when he might have alleged the witness of all the brave men in France; does yet openly declare, that he received the image of his own Prince's virtues, from the Report of Madam Fiennes, 
P. 8.  a Lady whom he met with accidentally at Calais.  
Upon the very entrance into his journey, as soon as he sets forth from Paris, he gives evident proofs of the lightness, and vanity, of his mind. From what he had said before in his own commendation. I began to fancy in my thoughts, a grave Philosopher, going forth with the intent to survey all civil States, that he might bring back their profitable Arts, and enrich his Native Country with them. I called to mind the Examples of Pythagoras, Solon, Thales, Plato, and almost all the first wise men amongst the Grecians● who were wont to make long voyages into Egypt, and the East, for such honourable purposes. And upon this thought I was inclined to forgive him all his former Boastings, and to look on them only as pardonable imperfections, which sometimes accompany great Wits. And hence, Sir, you may think how much I was surprised, when I saw that the first fruits of his travels were ●n account of the pleasant company, that he had on the way, of certain Polacks, that spoke Latin, 
P. 6.  that could play on the Violin, and that gave him a dance twice a day. But hold Sir, I will not give him this occasion, to confirm the sentence, which he has passed upon us, that the English are of a gloomy, extravagant, fanatic, melancholy humour. I am content to allow him these divertisements. It was fit that he, who went forth to civilize barbarous Nations, should be attended as they were of old, with harmony. Yet you cannot but be delighted, when you observe the choice that he made: that he who undertook to censure, and refine manners, and to promote inventions, he who talks of nothing less than intrigues with the Muses, should find nothing worth mentioning in his journey from Paris to Calais, but the Music, and the dancing of Poland. Seeing his skill is so good in one of the liberal Arts● seeing he was so well satisfied in France itself, with a Fiddle of Cracaw, or Warshaw. I wonder he would come into England, to ●earch for Philosophy, and had not rather gone to the famous University of Moscow.  
And yet, Sir, to speak the Truth, I can easily pardon Monsieur de S●rbier's affection to a Polish jyg. This is not the worst thing, in which he h●s e●pres'● his inclination to that Country● He was turned out of his School a● Orange, for being a Socinian. And therefore we may well allow him to be an Heretic in their M●sick, seeing he was ●o i● their Divinity.  
In this Jolly posture he arrives at Calais. In the same I●●e lay Madam ●ien●es. 
P. 6,7.  She was invited the next day to dinnner by Mounsie●● de Courtebonne. Monsieur de Sorbiere waits upon her thither. The entertainment pleased him. For this he commends his Host, for one of the most accomplished, and obliging Gentlemen in France. And he professes, he thought himself bound in Conscience to make him this public acknowledgement. What is to be blamed in all this? what could be more courtly? what a greater sign of a scrupulous, and tender Conscience, then to believe himself so much engaged to be grateful for a good Pottage? what greater recompense could a Royal Trumpeter make to Mounsieur de Courtebonne, then thus to sound up his meat? hitherto all is well. But now, Sir, I pray recollect, whether he deals so fairly, and religiously, with your fellow Professor, Doctor Wallis? to whom, for all his good cheer, for a hearty welcome, for showing him the University of Oxford, for imparting to him many curiosities, which he himself confesses were admirable, 
P. 94.  he has returned no other thanks then only a ridiculous description of his Cap. 
P. 100   

P. 14.  At his landing at Dover, he was saluted with ill language by the Boys. Methinks the handsome entertainment that he met with there at his return, 
P. 17.  might have moved him to conceal this ill usage. Though the matter itself, at the worst, was not worth speaking of● for he might have considered, that it is an ordinary thing for Boys, not to have any great kindness for Schoolmasters: yet hence he takes occasion to inveigh against the rudeness of the whole English Nation. 
P. 14.  I have already, Sir, engaged myself, to forbear comparisons: or else, I might perhaps very justly, contradict what he says, 
P. 14.  that the English are always welcomed at Deip, and Calais, with so much obliging care. We are indeed with care enough. For the inhabitants of those places ●eiz on every part of us, some catch our Cloaks, some our Hats, some our Cloak-bags: and when we are by piece-meals brought to Shore, our officious friends demand their own rates for having thus obliged us: so that sometimes we can scarce know, whether we should call it a Landing, or a Wreck. This, Sir, is more than a verbal Incivility. Yet I make no Conclusion from hence against the whole French Nation, but only against the Porters, and Mariners, of Deip, and Calais. And the same Right aught Monsieur de Sorbiere to have done us. He should not have presently exclaimed against the whole Kingdom, for that which is only to be attributed to the ill Discipline of Dover-Schole. This, Sir, may serve to give you some light, what kind of Judge we are like to find him in matters of greater weight: and when you read, 
P. 12.  that he alleges no other sign of the English Courage, then that their Butchers are delighted with the noble Combats of Bulls, Bears, and Dogs: I hope you will remember, that it is the same Man, who is here wise enough to pass a General Rule, concerning the English ill manners, from the Rude behaviour of the Children of one of our Sea-Towns.  
Yet, to do him right, in this particular, he does not cast all the blame on the English: but he involves the Dutch, 
P. 15.  and the Italians, in the same common Crime. He here complains, that as we call the Frenchmen Dogs, 
P. 15  so the Dutch upbraid them with the approbrious name of Mushrooms, and the Italians with the worse term of Fools. For my part, I think all this by no means to be justified, if the accusation be true. But however, how does this consist, with that Flattery which he uses to his KING, 
E. Ded.  that wherever he came, he found the whole world ready to submit to the French Empire? What says he now? Is it probable, that all Nations are willing to make France the Seat of a Universal Monarchy, when at the ●ame time, he assures us, from his own experience, that the usual Titles, which their Neighbours bestow upon them, are those of Dogs, Fools, and Mushrooms?  
The next part of his journey is from Dover to London. His error about the distance between these two places I forgive: though in threescore miles he mistakes ten. 
P. 9  All the evil touches which he here gives, concerning the Disposition of the English, I reserve for their proper place. But I must take notice how particularly the Historiographer Royal describes the Waggoner of Canterbury. 
P. 18.  The Horses were tied one before another: The Driver clothed in Black: a brave Mountaero on his Head: a jocund fellow; mighty well satisfied with himself: a great Droll: in all things appointed like another Saint George. What think you now Sir? may we not after this believe that Tom Coriat is one of the chief Heads of Parnassus, with whom he has conversed? Where lies the Difference between these two Learned Authors? That famous countryman of ours was just so curious in his Relations: neither Horse nor Man could escape his Pen: on his host's Beard, and his Signpost he still declaymd: Here are only wanting the Frenchman's Bills of Fare every night, and you might have sworn, that Monsieur de Sorbiere had inherited the great, and inquisitive spirit of the Noble Traveller of Odcomb.  
I will not here much insist on the Irreverence of this zealous Roman Catholic, as we shall afterwards find him to be: though methinks it was not well done of him, to object to the English their call Saint Paul, 
P. 42.  by the familiar Name of Paul; when he himself has compared one of our chief Saints to a Waggoner. Nor am I much concerned, to see him so punctual in describing the Waggoner of Canterbury to his Shirt, and yet not to make any mention of Thomas Becket, and Austin the Monk, the renowned Saints of that place. But yet I will here tell him, that though he was so careless of his Religion, he might have concealed this Character of the Waggoner upon another account: For he will hardly be able to persuade his Reader, that the best way to spread the report of the magnificence of his Patron, 
P. 18.  was to ride to London in a Wagon.  
But to give you farther evidence of the solidity of his humour. In all the Road between London to Dover, he forgets not to enlarge upon every thing that he saw, except only that which is one of the bravest spectacles in the World. 
P. 26, 27.  He is very exact in surveying the Bay-Windows of Canterbury. He fully describes the Bowling-Greens, 
P. 22.  and the very Rulers, that make them smooth: he speaks so Romantically of the Valleys, 
P. 22, 23, 24.  the Hills, and the Hedges of Kent, that the Authors of Clelia, or Astrea, scarce ever venture to say so much on the like occasion: 
P. 29.  he commends the convenient Form of Rochester Bridge: which he says, is so contrived, that men's Hats cannot be blown over. Who can deny, but in all this he is a very circumstantial, and Faithful Relator? But I pray, Sir, mark, that he spends very many more lines in speaking of each of these Toys, then of the most magnificent Arsenal at Chattam, which lies just below that Bridge. Of this he only in passing says, that here our Ships of War are built, 
P. 29.  and here they are laid up, when they return. And has he not here unawares betrayed the Levity of his own mind? where then was his Philosophical Curiosity? where his discretion to know good things? where his Love for Great, and Wonderful Arts,? what was a fitter Prospect to have stopped at? where could the ancient, or present World have shown a nobler Sight? For there, in one view, he might have seen the Ships, that command the Ocean: that make this small people that he despises, terrible to the ends of the Earth. We confess we yield to the French in the Beauty of their Cities, and Palaces: But in our floating Castles we outgo them as much. He is in the right, that about Paris, there is a far greater number of good Buildings: But the Suburbs which London has on the Thames, and Medway, make a sufficient recompense for this defect; as long as we exceed all the World, in the Fabrics of Strength, and Empire, we may easily allow him to object to us our want of those of Pleasure. And without question, the Sovereign, the Charles, the Prince, the james, the Henry, the London, the Resolution, and above an hundred more, the best in the World, might have been thought worthy naming by him, that almost reckons up the Windows, and the Cellars in Canterbury, and expresses himself so well satisfied to see, that there was care taken, that a plume of Feathers should not be disordered upon Rochester Bridge.  
In his Description of London, he affirms that it is bigger than Paris; 
P. 32.  and that it is a vulgar error of his Countrymen to think otherwise. And to manifest how vast he believes its extent to be, he professes, that he would not undertake to frame an exact Idea of it in his mind, 
P. 37.  under a whole years' time. This, Sir, methinks, might have admonished him, that if he was not able to take a full draught of one City in less than twelve Months, he has been very presumptuous, (let me return upon him his own word) to conceive that he could give a Character of the Genius, and Vices of our Nation, of the Constitution, and Corruptions of our Church, of the Weaknesses of our Government, of the Pedantry of our Learning, and of the Barbarousness of our Language, in three months' time. This consideration ought certainly to have stopped his Pen a little, especially seeing the Streets, and the Alleys of London stand still, and represent themselves always in the same fashion to our eyes, and it is enough to know them perfectly only to travel them often through: whereas it is so intricate a work, to take a right Prospect of the Manners of Men, the Humours of Nations, and the Secrets of Princes Counsels, that it is perhaps the most difficult employment of human Wit.  
'Tis true indeed, he endeavours to fetch a justification of his Insolence, from the English themselves: But the Apology, which he makes, rather aggravates his offence. He says, 
P. 10. , he is confident, that if he writ in our own language, he should not displease us. And he gives this reason for it, 
P. 11.  that the English have ofte● caused their Character to b● published: and that they hav● this peculiar good Quality, that they love to have themselves handled plainly, and ill-spoken of. This he professes to mention in our praise. And if this be his Courtesy, I now find, that the Passengers with him in the Wagon had reason, when (as he complains) they interpreted his very Civilities for affronts. 
P. 21.  But hold, Sir, what is this that he here says? has the English Nation ever caused its Character to be Printed? he speaks of it, as if it had been a thing done by Act of Parliament, and by the Authority of the whole State. 'Tis true, Sir, there was (as you may perhaps remember) a small Pamphlet, that came out with the Title of the Character of England, about six years ago. But that was pretended to be a Translation out of French. Or let us suppose that it was an Englishman that writ it under that disguise: yet has Monsieur de Sorbiere from thence any ground to say, that the whole English Nation has often printed its own Character? I will give him one instance to show how absurdly he did thus conclude, from one particular man, to a whole Country. Monsieur de Sorbiere, in his Book of Letters, has inserted (as he calls it) a Sceptical Discourse concerning the City of Paris: wherein he uses the Metropolis of all France, almost as injuriously, as he does the English in this Relation; with language as foul, as the Dirt of Paris itself. Now then, because Monsieur de Sorbiere, a private inhabitant of Paris, has presumed to slander it, in that manner; does it become me to affirm that the whole City of Paris has written a scandalous Libel on itself?  
But perhaps by this Instance which I have here mentioned, Monsieur de Sorbiere will raise an Argument, that shall be very much to his own advantage. For now he will be ready to say, that the English have no great reason to take his Affronts unkindly, seeing he has been already so free of his Corrections, and Reproofs, as not to spare his own Countrymen themselves. I accept of his Apology. 'Tis Pietatis plena Defensio: 'Tis an excellent good Natured Defence, for his railing against Strangers, that he has done the same before, against his own Fellow-Citizens.  
But to return to the English-Book, which he proposes as his Pattern. Seeing we have but one Libel in our Language, against a whole Country in general, let us permit the Historiographer Royal, to imitate it. Yet I cannot imagine how he came to vuderstand that Book alone, when he professes that he was utterly ignorant of the English-Tongue in all things else. 
P. 20.  It seems that reviling, and satire is so natural to his mind, that he is able to conceive the sense of it, though the Language in which it is written, be never so much unknown to him. However, if he compare the times of their publication, we shall find that there is a great distinction between the crimes of the English, and the French Satirist. The first of these was published during the Tyranny of the late Usurpers: and though it was very severe on the English in many passages, yet the greatest part was spoken with a good intention, in reproof of the miserable distractions of that Age, and the many ill-Customs which a long Civil-War had introduced. I beg of you now, Sir, to consider, by what an Example he clears himself. Because there was one satire written on our Nation, in a time of Licentiousness, and Confusion: he will second it now with a Worse, when we are settled in Peace, and Prosperity. Seeing he thinks this Plea sufficient, for what he says against the Manners of the English, that an Englishman did the same under Oliver, or Richard: I would have him also defend himself in all his Slanders on our Court, and the King's Ministers, with an argument that will resemble the other. For why may he not assert, that it is lawful for him now to use such Liberty; because Milton was allowed by the Rump, to write a Villainous Book against the late King of Blessed Memory?  
This weak excuse therefore, Sir, that he makes for his Barbarous way of handling Us, shall not serve his turn. He is so far from having received encouragement from the English: that I can show him several Volumes of the Voyages of some of our Countrymen, into Russia, Persia, Egypt, the Turkish-Empire, the East-Indies, and America, which have given a more advantageous account of those Infidels, and Barbarians, than he has done of one of the most polite Countries in Europe. The English have described, and illustrated, all parts of the Earth by their Writings: many they have discovered; they have visited all. And I dare assure him, that they have been always most tender of the Reputation of foreign States, which they have gone to visit, as they have been most merciful in sparing the Natives blood, in those Countries which they discovered.  
Let us now behold how Monsieur de Sorbiere has conformed himself to this generous English Spirit. I will give you in a short view some of the good terms that he has bestowed on our Nation in General. He says, 
P. 12.  That we have skimmed all the vices, and disdained the virtues of other Countries: 
P. 112.  that we contemn all the rest of the World: that we esteem all mankind besides miserable: that we scorn to look on them, 
P. 112.  or to speak to them, when they travel hither: 
P. 153.  that we frequently menace, and insult over our neighbours: 
P. 113.  that it is very hard to know, how to get our good will: 
P. 12.  that we have a strong union amongst ourselves against strangers: 
P. 133.  that we regard the prosperity of others with an evil eye: 
P. 11.  that we have a natural inclination to idleness, to presumption, to a certain extravagance of thoughts, which is to be found in our most excellent writings: 
P. 11.  that almost all the English are guilty of these faults, because they proceed from our Soil: 
P. 12.  that our humour is too free, and arrogant: that we are voracious, 
P. 151.  and luxurious: 
P. 122, 123.  that we submit to any, that will fill our Bellies, let us rail, and will not disturb our slothfulness: 
P. 19  that we are scoffers, and malicious speakers: 
P. 112.  that we are very irregular, and suspicious: 
P. 113.  that we are filled with dark thoughts: that we are fierce, and capricious: that we have a melancholy peculiar to us: 
P. 19  that if we once get necessaries to support life, our idleness makes us careless of any more: 
P. 11.  that there are every where Doelittles, proud, and Fanatic Persons to be met with: 
P. 21.  that there is nothing so crouching as an English man, if once you can find the means to make him afraid: 
P. 21.  that if you take away their Insolence, you take away their courage, and that they make but one leap, from the greatest ●uffe of pride into the basest cowardice.  
He has wearied me, Sir, and I can follow him no further, in heaping up such ignominious Trash. He acknowledges, that England is better known then any other part of the World, by the Britannia of the most Learned Mr. Cambden. And it is happy for us that it is so. For, if Foreiners should have nothing else to direct them cencerning us, but this fair Idea which he has here given; I suppose they would travel hither with the same caution, as we do into Greenland, to fish for Whales: they would only touch upon our shores, and stand upon their guard at every noise, lest the wild Bears should surprise them unawares. I entreat you to recall into your mind the description, which Caesar makes of the savage manners of this Island, at the time that he conquered Gaul and Britain together, you will find that Monsieur de Sorbiere is less mild in his expressions on us now, than that great Conqueror was on the untaught and original Inhabitants, that lived in Forests, and painted their Bodies, to make them appear more dreadful. Whatever reflections had been made on our Imperfections, we might perhaps have patiently received them from the hands of the Master of Rome, that had civilised us; and it may be too from one of his Trumpeters, so he had been a Roman: But we cannot from a Schoolmaster of Orange, from a Trumpeter of Little Britain, from a man that came hither to pick up Presents of Gloves, and Ribbons, and (as he himself confesses) to collect some certain debts, 
P. 161, 162.  that were here owing to his Friends.  
When I first, Sir, beheld all this good language which he has given us, I did presently cast about and examine what might be the cause of his Rage. And at last I had from one of his acquaintance intimation enough to guess, why he was pleased to be thus incensed. When he returned from his second visit to the King, this Gentleman asked him, How his Majesty had received him? he replied, Kindly enough: but, he expected, he would have presented him with some Medal. This, Sir, was the Provocation, And this was the occasion, that made him lay about him so terribly. What Indignation can be great enough against such baseness? Are these Writers of Letters, and Flatteries, and Romances, such dangerous men? Must the King of England deal with them, as some petty Bord●ring Princes are forced to do with th● Turk? Must he buy them off, and pay tribute to them, lest they should invade his Territories at their pleasure? Monsieur de Sorbiere, Sir, is a man of ripe Age, he pretends to have been familiar with Ambassadors, Generals, and Nuntios: he lays claim to the title of Philosopher, and to the most generous Sect of Philosophy, he tells us he is a Sceptic. But did he ever yet hear of an Example of a Philosopher, that preferred a petty gift, before the sweetness, and the obligation of so Great and so Magnanimous a Prince's conversation? It has indeed been told us, that some Philosophers of old have transgressed on the contrary, and have refused the Bounty of Monarches, that they might preserve the liberty of their minds: But in all History there can be no such instance shown, that a man should forfeit his Truth, and Honesty, for the want of a Medal, unless it be of him, that first renounced his Conscience, and changed his Religion, to obtain a Pension.  
In answer to these calumnies with which he has aspersed us, I will only in plain and simple terms, say as much as may confute his reproaches: But I will not set upon a long, and a solemn Panegyric of our Nation: For it is not my business here to paint, but only to wash.  
The first Slander, of which I shall take notice, he pretends to be a Proverbial-Speech; that we have despised all the good, and skimmed all the bad, of other people. As for the first part of it, whether we have scorned all the good qualities of others, I am content to have tried by his own words. He grants, that in very many things, we imitate the magnanimous Spirit of the Ancient Romans. 
P. 12.  And if we have been so careful to learn Virtue, from an Empire that was long ago at an end: how could he imagine, that we contemn all that is commendable in the Living? I thank him that he has resembled us to the greatest men of all Antiquity: But in the Instance which he alleges, he does well express what Sense he has of greatness of Mind, and honourable Actions: For, 
P. 12.  He reckons the Fights of their Gladiators to be one Chief Sign of their Virtue: Which was a cruelty, that all the Civil World do blame them for besides. I will confess Mons●eur de Sorbiere to be a better Master of Defence than any that he saw at the Red-Bull, 
P. 172.  if after this he can prove to Me, that he is a fit Man to distinguish, what is Insolence, and what is Courage, in the English; Seeing he counts it to have been a great piece of Bravery in the Romans, that they were delighted in beholding their Slaves, and their Captives, murder one another. And whereas he says, that we are infected with Outlandish-Vices; I cannot forbear telling him, that if this should be granted partly true, that we are in some measure degenerated from the Native Virtue, and Innocence of our Ancestors, in Edward the Third, and Henry the Fifth's time; yet it is easy to tell, from what Coast the Infection was transported hither; and we may say with Horace in a like case, though in respect of worse Arts than he intended; 
Graecia capta ferum victorem cepit, & Artes  
Intulit Agresti Latio.   
He next objects to us, That we have a strong union amongst ourselves against Strangers, and that it is almost impossible to get our good will. This, Sir, is so far from being true, that (you know) it may well be computed, that we have more Foreiners in Norwich, Canterbury, and London, who are permitted to Trade, and to enjoy the Privilege of Natives, then there are constantly residing in any Twenty Cities of Italy, Spain, or France.  
He upbraids us with frequent menacing, and insulting over our Neighbours. This he speaks with particular respect to the Hollanders Trade. But who made him Judge of the rights of Peace, and War? He acknowleged before, that all other affairs, except only those of the Sciences, and Learned men, 
Pref.  lie out of his way. Why does he then thrust in to be Arbitrator of the differences between the Dutch, and Us? to call those Menaces and Affronts, which an Assembly that represents a mighty Nation, has already styled demands of just satisfaction? and which the great Sovereign of the Seas will shortly make appear to be a a Vindication of the Law of Nations? But if Monsieur de Sorbiere believes, that our present contentions with the Low-Countrymen, are only rude Affronts, and not just Grievances; I am certain he was once of another mind, when he writ his Letter to Monsieur de Courcelles in the year 1652. Wherein he extols the Rumps Victories over them, and presages a glorious Empire to those Tyrants, from their absolute subduing them.  
He says, that we will not vouchsafe to speak to those that travel hither, and yet he calls us presumptuous, Raileurs, Arrogant, and Evil-Speakers. But to this it shall suffice me to reply, that seeing the same man condemns our Silence, and our Speech, it is a good Argument, that we are moderate, and unblamable in Both.  
He declares, that We regard the Prosperity of others with jealousy: whereas, there is not one of our Neighbours, to whom our Assistance could reach, but we have aided in their Calamities. The United Provinces, notwithstanding their present apprehensions of us, will still confess that their Commonwealth was founded upon English Valour. The Great Henry of France was established in his Throne by Queen Elizabeth's succours. And while I am writing this, the Portuguez behold one of the surest Ramparts of their Liberty, to be the Breasts of English Soldiers.  
He proceeds to affirm, that we will serve any man, that will feed us, suffer us to rail, and be idle. But to give him a full Testimony, how careful the English are of their own Liberty, it is enough to say, that they endeavour, more than most other Nations, to preserve inviolable the freedom of mankind in general; For they never make Slaves of their Prisoners of War in any part of Europe, which perhaps few other Nations have forborn. And that the world has a better opinion of us, he may be convinced by this, that the Natives of all Trading-Countries, have still maintained a peculiar respect for the English integrity; and that wherever the Bounds of our Empire have reached in ancient Times, there still remains on the minds of the people, a Remembrance of the easiness of the English Government. If all this will not satisfy him, that the English are not of a more Servile Disposition than other Countries; I will put him upon an Employment, which may well become his Abilities: Let him make a computation of the Footmen, Grooms of Chambers, and Cooks in Europe, and then let him tell me, whether he finds those of the English Nation to be the most Numerous.  
He asserts, that the English are suspicious, dark, irregular, capricious, and that they have a Melancholy peculiar to themselves. In this, methinks his small Philosophy should have instructed him better, that such dismal qualities are not the necessary Companions of the Complexion of Angels, which he allows them. But he that went dancing from Paris to Calais, and at Calais, as soon as he alighted out of the Chasse Marin, could not abstain from going to a Puppet-Play (for that I suppose he means, when he says, he saw a Comedy there) is not a fit man to Censure what is the difference, between what is Fantastical, and good Humour, between the Serious, and the Sullen. However he has made some Recompense to us for this disgrace. He has described the Vigorous, and the Sprightly Humour of the French, in such a manner, as makes it no very desirable Accomplishment. For he tells us, 
P. 16, 17.  that wherever they come, they make such a Noise, as to draw all the Children, and the Dogs in the Town after them. And I suppose, it is such a kind of Bruit as this, tha● Monsieur de Sorbiere says, he has made in all places, where he arrived.  
He often says, that we are all Idle, Sluggish, and Doelittles. Upon this he insists so frequently, that I conceive his French Readers, that never saw England, will be apt to believe that he found it such a Country as Lubberland: that he caught all the Inhabitants stretched out on their Backs, and sleeping under Trees. But whence could he gather this conception of our stupidity? The places that he visited, were only those on the Road to Oxford, and London, and some few other Nobleman's houses besides. I hope he did not conclude our Nation to be so lazy, from the quiet of the streets, and the retirement of the Colleges in the University: yet when I remember what judgement he made on our Rudeness at Dover, and from whence he took his conjecture, I am likewise inclined to think that he has discretion enough to determine upon the English sluggishness, from the private way of living of our Scholars. It must be so, For every where else he beheld many marks of diligence. In his Journey to London, he confesses, 
P. 13.  It was admirable to see, what an infinite number of Seamen, and Shipwrights, were at work on the Banks of the Thames. In London itself he reports, that there are more Shops, 
P. 40.  and better beautified, then in any City in the World. He found every where in England, men busy about Natural Experiments, from whose labours he is confident, 
P. 80.  mankind may expect prodigious Inventions. And are all these the signs of an overgrown slothfulness? But besides these, Sir, he never saw any of the chief Seats of the English Industry, he beheld not the Coalpits of New Castle, the Clothworks of the West, and the North, the Led Mines of Derby, the Orchards of Hereford, the Plough-lands of Devon, the New Rivers of the Fens, the Tinn Mines of Cornwall. These, and many more, he should have viewed: he should thence have passed into our Western Colonies: he should have considered the Sugar works of the Barbadoss, the Tobacco Plantations of Virginia, the Silk Trade that is begun there, and the Vast Mole, which goes on at Tangier, 
P. 175.  that pitiful place (as he terms it:) after all these surveys he might have been a fitter Judge of the English labours. This exactness of Information might have been expected from an Historiographer Royal. But he has been as careful in this, as in most of the rest of his Intelligence. For as soon as ever he sets his foot on the English shore, he straight positively condemns all the whole Nation of laziness, 
P. 10.  from the first Posthorse that he saw gallop.  
His last disgrace is the English cowardice. And the occasion from whence he takes this Observation is very remarkable, 
P. 21.  He saw an Oxford Scholar affronted by a Frenchman that had been seven years the Protectors soldier: And thence He passes sentence on the baseness of our Nation. What, Sir, will the Dutch and the Spaniards think of this? The one, when they remember the Battles of Portland, and the North forland; and the other, when they call to mind Tenariff, and the sandy hills of Dunkirk? Will they not take it very ill at his hands, that he should reckon all those for Cowards, whom Cromwell's Soldiers had defeated? But if our late civil Wars have not given an unconfutable evidence of the English valour: if the magnanimous Deaths of so many Martyrs for the Royal Cause do not prove it: If Eighty Eight: if the Immortal Sir Richard Greenvill, if our Conquests of Ireland, and Scotland be forgotten: if the joint Testimony of almost all the Historical Writers for these last six hundred years be of no account: yet (to say no more) I could never have believed that any French Historiographer would have given it under his hand, that the English are Cowards.  
And now, Sir, having laid all these Ignominies together, would you not have guessed that he would never have dared, to pronounce so boldly upon us, unless he had conversed all his Life time with us; unless he had throughly studied our Temper, and deeply pierced by a long search into the Composition of our Nature? But when I find, that as soon as ever he was called Monsieur by the Children of Dover, he straight makes Conclusion of our general Inhospitality: and of our Insolence from the next Carrier that he employed: and of our Abusiveness, from a silly Zealander, that was his fellow-Traveller: and of our want of Courage, from a pitiful Fray between a naked scholar, and an armed French Soldier, at Beaconsfield. This puts me in mind of the Judgement, which one of the greatest men that ever lived, did pass on the Ancient Gauls. It was the experience of Caesar himself, of their trifling, and changeable Humour, that in their most solemn Councils, they determined on the weightiest Affairs, upon the Authority of any slender Report of the next wand'ring Pedlar. This I hope I may repeat, without offending the present French Nation. For I do not say, (as Monsieur de Sorbiere of us) That it came from the Nature of their Soil, and that therefore it must needs descend on all that are born on the same Earth. But I only affirm, that I know a certain French Trumpeter, that has made good this Observation of Caesar's.  
This, Sir, being the Form, which he has fancied in his Brain of the wild Manners of the English, it is easy to guess, what thoughts he has of their Religion. And the Truth is, having represented us, as such Monsters, in our Civil Customs, and Behaviour, he could do no other, then paint us out to be as bad as Infidels, in ●ur Spiritual Condition. For whosoever are Barbarous in their Lives, can never be good Christians in their Hearts. It is the peculiar glory of the True Christianity, that it does not only Save, but Civilize, its Real Professors.  
We shall therefore find, that his reproaches are proportionable, concerning our Religion. And by the Irreverence of the Language which he uses towards it, you may perceive, that he did not only learn from the Trooper that was his Companion to Oxford, that the English are Insolent, and Cowards: But that he also furnished him with this Intelligence of Church. For this account, which he has here set down, could have been given by no man Living so properly, as by one that had been a Soldier in Cromwell's Army. 
P. 21.  To pass by the friendly names of Schismatics, and Heretics, which he as freely bestows upon us as if they were our National Titles: he has ventured to say, 
P. 45.  that We separated from the Church of Rome for shameful causes, that are known to all the World: 
P. 43.  that the people has an universal Aversion from the Religion established by Law: that there is a probability, 
P. 44.  that all our Sects may shortly unite to destroy it: 
P. 43.  that our solemn Public Prayers are only a Morsel of a Liturgy: 
P. 44.  that the King did the most hazardous thing he could undertake, when he restored Episcopacy: that our Ecclesiastical Government is nothing else, 
P 44.  but the Shadow, and the Corruption of the true Hierarchy: 
P. 45.  that the Introduction of our Church-Service into Scotland, was the cause of the shedding of so much Blood in the three Nations: that our chief Clergy men, 
P. 53.  who have Pluralities of Benefices, make their Grooms their Curates: that our Bishops do horribly abuse their jurisdiction, 
P. 52.  in their Excommunications, and Impositions: 
P. 53.  that they are so haughty, that none of the Inferior Priests dare speak to them: that they rob the Church, 
P. 62, 63.  by letting its Leases for thirty years; getting all the Money into their own Pockets, and leaving only a small Revenue to their Successors: that England is a Country, 
P. 63.  where no man is afraid of committing Simony. This, Sir, is his Judgement of our Church. And you may be pleased to observe, that this Catalogue of Slanders is equally made up of those, which the most furious of the Romanists on the one side, and the most Fanatic amongst the Non-conformists on the other, are wont to Revile us withal: So that in repeating them, he does at once act both the Parts, which he had before played in the World at several times, that of a violent Calvinist, and a jesuitical Papist.  
And first, it is false that our English Reformation began upon a shameful occasion, or from the extravagance of a private passion. I know he has the famous story of King Henry's Divorce to oppose against what I say. But I am not startled at that, no more then at the Fable of our Bishop's Consecration at the Naggs-head Tavern; or, of the Kentishmens' having long Tails for the murder of Thomas Becket. Such frivolous Arguments as these might have served well enough in the Mouths of the Monks two hundred years ago: But they will not pass so easily in a Philosophical, and Inquisitive Age. In brief therefore, Sir, it is evident that King Henry the Eighth did never intend to proceed to a much greater distance from the Roman See, than the Gallican Church maintains at this day. There is no man of our Church, that looks upon his breach with the Pope, to have been a Reformation. We only esteem it to be of the nature of those Quarrels, which many Princes in the most Catholic Countries, have managed against the Holy Chair. The Reformation to which we stand is of a latter date. The Primitive Reformers amongst us, beheld the Reason of men tamely subjected to one man's Command, and the Sovereign Powers of all Christendom still exposed to be checked, and destroyed by the Resolutions of his private Will. Upon this they arose to perform two of the greatest Works in the World, at once to deliver the minds of Christians from Tyranny, and the Dignity of the Throne from Spiritual Bondage. Whatever was the accidental, this was the Real Cause of our first Reformation, and of their separation from us, not ours from them. And this was an event which must needs have come to pass near the time in which it did, though King Henry had never forsaken his Wife. Let him therefore know, that our Doctrine (as much spoiled as it is, 
P. 45.  in his opinion) was established by Christ and his Apostles: and that the Ceremonies of our Worship, were not set up by faction, or by popular Fury, but by the deliberate Counsels of Wisemen, and by the authority of that power, which bears the immediate Image of God. This, Sir, I have said in Vindication of our Church, not so much to satisfy this idle Dreamer upon Parnassus, as out of the love which I bear to many well-meaning Catholics amongst us, who have this Argument sometimes in their mouths, of whom I know very many, whose wishes for the happiness of their Country, and for its freedom from foreign Usurpations, are as honourable as any Englishmen living. As for Monsieur de Sorbier's part, it had been a sufficient Reply to him, that I can name a man, who has indeed separated from the Religion wherein he was born, for a shameful cause which is known to all the World.  
He declares that the people of England have an universal aversion from the established Worship. But here I cannot say that of him for which he commends Doctor Wallis, that He is one of the best Accountants in the World. 
P. 100  This positive Computation he never was in any capacity to make, he never saw any of the middle, or the remoter parts of our Nation, where Nonconformity is but very sparingly spread. He never conversed with the vast Body of Gentry, and Yeomanry that live Country lives, who are generally uninfected. It is London alone on which he must rely for this calculation. And yet even in this too, I dare openly assure him, that the far greater number is for the Rights of the Church, then against them. But I advise Monsieur de Sorbiere, that before he thinks himself able to make an exact judgement of the Number of our Religious Sects, he would first correct all his errors in Arithmetic, which are to be found in this Book, about the most obvious things, in reckoning of which, it was enough to have only had the understanding of the least child that he ever taught. I will only produce one in this place. Have we not reason to rely upon his opinion of the difference of the parties in the whole Kingdom; when in the least number that can be, he has mistaken half: For, he says, that the double-bottomed. Vessel has two Masts in the Front, when every Sculler on the Thames knows it has but One.  
He affirms, that the Government of our Bishops is nothing else, but the shadow, and the corruption of a True Hierarchy. And he gives this excellent Reason for it, because here the Spiritual submits to the Temporal. 
P. 44.  This very Argument I will turn upon himself. It is therefore the True, the Sound, the Apostolical Episcopacy: because it does yield to the Temporal Power, which else could be nothing but a shadow. It is the glory of the Church of England, that it never resisted Authority, nor engaged in Rebellion: which is a praise, that makes much to its advantage, in the minds of all those, who have read of the dismal effects of the Scotch Covenant, and the holy League.  
He says, that our King did put himself on the most dangerous Enterprise that could be attempted, when he restored Episcopacy. And yet he confesses that our other Sects are inconsistent with any Government but a Commonwealth. 
P. 58.  What dreadful danger could be imagined in a Monarches destroying that, which must needs fall of itself in a Monarchy? But to show how much he was mistaken, It is evident, that upon his Majesty's most glorious Return, the Church soon recovered all its rights of Ecclesiastical Jurisdiction, of sitting in Parliament, and even all its Lands, which had been long held by Armed Usurpers, without any other Opposition, than what was made by General Vennor, and his forty men: who it seems did run the greatest hazard of the two.  
He declares that there is so great a distance between our Bishops, and our inferior Clergy, that these dare not speak to, nor stand covered before, them. This, Sir, you and I can prove to be a manifest Untruth, by several Instances. But however, what course can we take to please this grave Censurer of our Civility? He here dislikes the respects, that we show to our chief Churchmen: and in another place, He condemns the familiar behaviour of our common Soldiers towards their Officers. He abuses the Clergymen for standing bare to those Reverend and Aged Persons; and the Red-Coats for keeping on their Hats in the presence of their Captains. 
P. 122.  How sufficient a Judge is he of good manners, that would bring the rude Customs of a Camp into the Church, and the Punctilios of Observance, and Courtship, into an Army.  
But he accuses us of a greater Crime. It is but just that there should be so great a distance, if our Clergymen that have Pluralities, make their Grooms supply their Cures. In this part of his Character he certainly, Sir, mistook the Country, and intended this for some other Kingdom in Europe, where he had also missed of a Medal. It is a sign that he is as little acquainted with his own Church, as he is with ours: or else he would never have objected to us our Pluralities, which are infinitely fewer, and more confined amongst us: he would never have ventured to upbraid us with the Ignorance of our Parish Priests, lest we should have provoked the whole Church of Rome to a comparison. In brief, Sir, our Slaves do not serve at our Altars: and I will also add, that our Chief Spiritual Dignities are not entailed upon Families, nor possessed by Children. In all the Parishes of England; I dare challenge not only him that is a Stranger, but the most bitter Enemies to our Discipline, to show me Twenty Pulpits, that are filled with men, who have not spent their Youth in Studies to prepare them, and who have not the Authority of Holy Orders.  
That He has presumed to call our Public Solemn Prayers, only a Morsel, or a Scrap of a Liturgy; I do not much wonder. For he that has long made his own Religion his Cook (as one of our Poets expresses it) may well be thought irreligious enough; to take a Metaphor for ours from a Kitchin. But besides this, he asserts, that the Introduction of the English Liturgy into Scotland, was the cause of the shedding of all the Blood in the three Nations. This Speech might have well fitted the mouth of Bradshaw, or the Pen of Ireton. For it lays all the guilt of so much Slaughter, on the most Innocent, and most merciful Prince, that ever wore a Crown: by whose special care, an Uniformity of Worship was attempted in that Kingdom. But to give him better light, and to let him see, that there were other Causes of our Miseries, in one of these three Countries at least, I would fain have him ask this Question of the Pope's Legate that was in Ireland, whether the horrible Irish Massacre was committed for no other reason, but only out of a tender Brotherly sense of the Yoke which was laid by the Common-Prayer, on the Scotchmen's Consciences.  
He tells us, that it is an ordinary thing with our Bishops, to exercise their Ecclesiastical Censures upon frivolous accounts. But methinks he might have remembered, that it was not probable, they should seek out any trifling occasions of excommunication, when, by his own confession, they have so many weighty Provocations: if that be true, that the whole Nation neglects their Discipline. But, Sir, you know it is apparent to all indifferent Men, that the Bishops have been most remarkably moderate in their Visitations: and that the Punishments, which have been inflicted on the Obstinate, have for the most part proceeded from the Temporal Sword, and not the Spiritual. But, because he here quarrels at the Absoluteness of our Bishop's power, I leave him to be answered by the whole Clergy of the Church of Rome, who ought to be alarmed by this. For if ours shall be reputed so Tyrannical, what will they be esteemed, whose Jurisdiction is so much larger?  
He goes on to defame our Bishops. He says, they have embezzled the Church Lands, to make their own Families Rich. This, Sir, is an Objection, which though it was at first managed against them with great Clamour, by the common Enemies of the King, and the Church: yet now upon a calmer consideration of things, it has universally lost its credit, even in those places where he says, 
P. 130.  the English take Tobacco half the day together; from whence he acknowledges, that he had a good part of his Relations. The first murmurs against them were raised, because they received altogether, some part of that which was their due, for twenty years before. But the Envy of that was quickly scattered, when it was manifest how many public, and Generous works they have promoted. Besides the first Fruits, and Tenths, and above all the Subsidies, which have swept away a good part of their gains, they have compounded with a very great Number of the Purchasers; they have increased the Vicaredges in their Gift to Fourscore Pounds a year: they have endowed Almshouses, and Colleges, they have built Chapels, they have repaired the Episcopal Palaces, and Cathedrals, which were generally gone to Ruin; they have redeemed at once all the English, that were Slaves at Algiers, and that too I dare assure him, without any intent to make Curates of them.  
The Account which he gives of their letting Leases is most ridiculous. There is no man amongst them, that lets a Lease for thirty years. The Reserved Rent is that which was always the standing Revenue of the Church. Nor ought this Custom to be Objected against the Church of England. It is the same course which is taken in France, and most other parts of Christendom. Nay, to go farther, the letting of Church Leases is a business, whose Regulation was brought about since the time, that the Church of Rome divided from us. Before Queen Elizabeth's reign, the Churchmen had a power of Farming out their Lands, not only for Thirty, but for Ninety Nine years. It was She, that first confined the Term to One and Twenty; and so it still remains. He ought not therefore to reckon this practice as our disgrace: when the good order, that is now used about it, is the peculiar honour, that belongs to the English Reformation.  
But to Conclude, if no Man fears Simony in England, then there is no man that is affrighted with punishment. For our Laws are as strict against it, and as severely executed, as any where else. However, if it were true, (which is far from being so) that we Simoniacally employ the Church estate to Secular uses; yet this sounds very ill from that Layman's Pen, who, when he writ this Voyage, was maintained out of the Ecclesiastical Revenue. This, Sir, was Monsieur de Sorbiere's Case. And the first Office of a Churchman that ever he performed, was in this Book, 
P. 99  where He devoutly prays to God, to make Mr. Hobbs a Roman Catholic. Which if his prayers can obtain from Heaven, he deserves not only to be made a Priest, or Bishop, but even a Saint too: For this will be a far greater Miracle, than any of those for which many have been Canonised.  
And now, Sir, can you require any greater signs of Monsieur de Sorbier's Sincerity in his Religion? He has accused of Simony, the most Incorrupt: of Pride, the Humblest: of Rapacity, the most Innocent: of Ignorance, the most Learned: of false Doctrine, the most Primitive; of ill Discipline, the most Decent Church under Heaven. And when nothing else could be said, he even upbraids it with its Submission and Obedience, To show, (that he is as ill a Disciple of Mr. Hobbes', whom he pretends to admire, as he is of the Apostles.) Notwithstanding all which impudent Disgraces, there remains this one comfort to the Church of England, that the same man, who now vilifies Her so basely, had once as mean thoughts of the Godhead of Her blessed Founder Himself.  
But it is easy to conjecture at the Cause of this his harsh Usage of our Church. He had but lately Apostatised from the Reformed Religion in France: he was but just entered into the Romish Communion. And he suspected, that there might be some doubts still remaining on men's minds, of the Reality of his Conversion, which might turn to the prejudice not only of his Spiritual, but of his Temporal Estate: he had given himself out for a great Philosopher: and he understood well enough, that few Philosophers are thought to alter their minds, that have once been Protestants. He was therefore resolved to give an Unquestionable proof of his Establishment in the Faith, by reviling the Church of England. And in performing this, I confess, Sir, he has Counterfeited the Zealot very well: he has prosecuted Us, with all the Violence, and Bigotry, which commonly accompanies new Converts. But yet I believe this will hardly do his business. Even in this very Book, he gives Evidence enough, that Calvinism, and Heresy, are not wholly rooted out of his Heart. He grossly abuses the most devoted Children of the Church of Rome, the English Roman Catholics. He complains of them, 
P. 64.  that they have no mind to disturb the Peace of their Country tomards the restoration of their Religion: which is indeed spoken to their Honour, though he intends it to their Shame. He says, 
P. 64.  that they are not so zealous in their Way, as foreign Papists, the quite contrary to which is true: he makes, 
P. 64.  as if they never saw the True Mass performed: he affirms, 
P. 64.  that they are all born in Servitude, and debases so many Ancient, Rich, and Honourable Families, to the condition, and the minds, of Slaves. In all these Speeches, he does not express any certain mark of a True Proselyte. But above all, he has set down such a determination of his Faith, that if he had made it in Italy, or Spain, he had undoubtedly fallen into the Inquisition. He boldly pronounces, that Transubstantiation, Purgatory, the Merit of Works, 
P. 48.  Invocation of Saints, the Supremacy of the Bishop of Rome, the authority of Councils, and the Infallibility of the Pope, are none of them Fundamental Doctrines. What greater Apology could be made for the Church of England, which he has so much defamed: seeing these are the only shameful Causes, for which we dissented from Rome?  
But I leave him to be corrected by the Pope's Sentence for these Heresies: which perhaps the Holy Father has reason to think, do more shake the Holy Chair, than the five points of jansenius that he condemned: which Monsieur de Sorbiere says, 
P. 60.  did raise a dispute about a matter of Nothing.  
From our Religion, Let us follow him of our Government. And here, Sir, I was at first a little at a stand how to deal with him. But I have heard of the Magnanimous resolution of the late Duke of Buckingham, who would never permit any Apology to be written for him. And I consider, that it is almost as great an arrogance for one obscure Writer, to undertake to defend the Actions of Great Princes, as it is for another to defame them. I will not therefore enlarge my Speech in the praises of the present happiness of England, or in paying all the acknowledgements, which are due to our Sovereign, for the blessings of His Reign. That is a Subject ficter for a more elaborate Volume, than a single Letter, and for a far more elegant Pen then mine. I will only here show the Vanity of our Historiographers groundless suggestions. And as an Introduction to what he says, concerning the Political condition of this Nation, I will first observe how he deals with some others of the chief Crowned Heads in Europe. You will perhaps, Sir, be very hardly induced to believe, that he can be guilty of disrespect to Monarchy, or Sovereign Princes, when you behold him so Panegyrically given towards that Government, as to take the pains, to go five or six thousand miles, to find out a Race of Kings to commend. For he here speaks very zealously in praise of the most virtuous, 
P. 117, 118.  and most religious Kings of China. This, Sir, I cannot but applaud in him; and to show how much this one testimony of his good manners has wrought with me, I will not be harsh upon him in this place. I will not call in question the credit of his Intelligence from the farthest East, which you see is so false, about a Country, that lies only seven Leagues distant from his own. Nay, I will not so much as inquire whether ever he met with any Chinese Madam Fiennes to give him this Information. 
P. 118.  I will grant, that the Kings of China have been great Menders of Bridges, and Planters of Orchards. But I will only now softly put him in mind, that while his Pen did overflow with sweet words, upon the Kings of China, he has handled the Kings of Sweden and Denmark more cruelly, than Dionysius the Tyrant would have done, when he was a King, much less when he was a Schoolmaster.  
Of the two last Kings of Sweden he affirms, that their Glory is almost wholly vanished: 
P. 116.  and that all moderate men must needs read the Desolations, which they caused with Horror. You see, Sir, what an excellent occasion he has here given me of Triumphing over him. You know very well, how many great, and irresistible arguments, this matter might suggest to me: what might not be said of that Victorious Nation? how copious might I be in extolling the indefatigable Industry, the Conduct, the Good Fortune, the Generosity of those Kings? What Passions might here be raised, in appealing to all Mankind, and in aggravating the common misery of all Great Commanders of Armies, if it shall be permitted to every small Pamphleteer to invade their Lives, and to arraign their Ashes, when he pleases? But there is no need of going so powerfully to work, or of employing against him any of the Lofty, and Tragical Forces of Eloquence. It will suffice, if I recall to his Memory, the Title in which he boasts so much. I will only ask him, how the Historiographer of France can assert the Wars of Gustavus Adolphus to have been horrible Divastations, without casting some share of the Dishonour on the Crown of France itself? For (if we will believe all the French Writers of that time) there was a strict Confederacy, and a real Union of Interests, between those Two mighty Monarches. I give him leave to use the Fame of the Kings of Sweden as he pleases. Let them in his account pass for Theives, and Oppressors. They deserve so to be used: for they were mortal Enemies to that belov'd Country, with whose Music, and Latin, and Dancing, he was before so much ravished. I only bid him look back on the relation, which Lewis the Just had to Lewis the Fourteenth, and then let him try to vindicate himself for overturning the Trophies of the Father, in the same Book, wherein he declares, that He travelled abroad in a Wagon, to spread the glory of the Son.  
But the Fame of those dead Princes is placed above the reach of his Envy: let us, Sir, consider how he behaves himself towards the living. What a long Story (or rather, as he himself styles it, Romance) has he here made, of the life of Vlefelt the Dane, on which he builds the justification of his Crimes, and condemns the King of Denmark's justice? And yet at the same time he acknowledges, that He took the whole Relation, only from the Mouth of Vlefelts own Wife. After this, have the Kings of China any great reason to be proud of this Man's good will? when he has here expressed no more Judgement, nor Integrity, then from the single and partial Information of a Woman, to acquit a man that had been hanged in Effigy in Denmark, and has been since killed as he was pursued for High Treason?  
Upon the sight of all this, Sir, I may well return securely Home, to examine his opinion of the Imperfections of our State. And here I must not forget to acquaint you, that he is not all over Satyrical; But in several places he sprinkles some few kind words to our advantage. Yet his Commendations are so directly contrary to his reproaches; that instead of reconciling me to him, they rather supply me with new arguments against him. And who can desire an easier Adversary to deal with, than such a one, who, when he speaks against us, opposes evident Truth, when he speaks for us, contradicts himself?  
This Inconsistence of his own mind with itself, is apparent in this Political part of his Relation, which now comes under my Censure: He confesses, Our King to be one of the best Princes in the World: 
P. 123.  He declares, that His Majesty used him with all imaginable sweetness, and that by the Charms of His Discourse, he sent him away as well pleased, as if he had loaded him with his Presents. 
P. 120.  I entreat you now, Sir, to recollect, how this, and that which follows hangs together.  
First, He suggests, 
P. 124.  that perhaps there was not so much pretence for the people to rebel in the late King's time, as there is at this present. In the reply which I shall make to this Passage, I cannot, Sir, confine myself to the bare limits of a satisfactory Answer: but I must permit my Zeal for the Prosperity of our Country, to break forth into Expressions of Joy, and Gratitude. It is fit that all the World should know, that as our King was restored with the most miraculous submission of minds, and interests, that ever any History can show: as he was established on the Throne of his Ancestors, while there were two mighty Armies on Foot, that had fought against him and his Father: so there can be no difficulty in continuing this quiet, now he has all the power of the Nation in his hands, and now his Enemies are scattered, and disarmed (if yet he can be thought to have any real Enemies, after so many Heroic Testimonies of his Mercy) The condition of all his affairs abroad is in such a posture, in respect of his Neighbours, that he is as far from being liable to receive Injuries unrevenged, as he is averse in his own disposition from doing wrongs unprovok'd. And the small dissensions that still remain on some of his Subjects minds at home, are so far from hazarding the safety, that they will rather make for the Honour of his Reign. For by his renewed and generous endeavours towards the composing of these differences, there will arise for him a continued succession of Peaceful Triumphs, of which the occasions had been wanting to him, if he had found us all of one mind. And many such Victories as these, we may justly presage to our Sovereigns future Government. The Forces which he employs against those few that are still contumacious, which are those of Affability, and Forgiveness, are impossible to be resisted. Who ever contends with his Adversaries with those weapons, he has not only his own Virtues, but theirs on his side. And as these are the surest Conquests, so they are of the greatest renown. In the Triumphs of War, his Soldiers, his Commanders, and even Fortune itself, would come in for a share in the Fame: But those which are obtained by pity, and by pardoning, have no Partners in the honour, but are wholly to be attributed to the King himself.  
But for a proof of our calm and well-secured condition, I appeal from this Triflers Conjectures, to the Parliament itself, which is the true Representative of the Affections of the whole Kingdom. If he would have been willing to refer the matter to their decision, he might have found all things so free from any likelihood of new disturbances, that they have been still as inclined to be severe against the King's ill-willers, as he himself has been to be gentle: and so solicitous to guard his Royal Person, with their lives and fortunes, as he has been careful, that he might need no other defence, but his own goodness.  
Yet since he is resolved not to stand to the determination of that great Assembly, which he modestly terms an extravagant Body, 
P. 130.  let us see what reports he has picked up amongst the malcontents of the Vulgar: He says, that they every where complain of the neglect of the interest of Trade, of the misspending of the Treasure, of the oppressions of the Court, and of the decrease of our glory at Sea.  
All this, Sir, he professes to take from the murmurs of the multitude. 
P. 130.  And if they are guilty of such discourses, more than the Communality of other Countries, they justly deserve the Titles that he gives them, of a suspicious, a sullen, an insolent, and an envious Generation. But then, Sir, if the mean and ignorant people ought so much to be condemned for upbraiding their Governors, though they only do it in private, when they are heated with drink, and under the protection of a cloud of Tobacco smoke: 
P. 130.  what punishment does that Historian deserve, who thought good to collect their discontents, and to make himself worse than the Authors of them, by being the first that reports them in this public way? What credit could he expect to get, by repeating these low scandals, when it was dishonourable for him only to confess, that he came into such places, and companies, where he might overhear them? This Reprehension, Sir, he ought to have undergone, if all this that he relates had been true: But if we take it in pieces, we shall find that ●e libels the very Suburbs, and that his ink is black enough to represent the worst slanders of the Rabble, in darker colours than their own.  
As for the repine which he heard concerning the diminution of Trade: You know, Sir, that it is the public, and the cheerful voice of all Englishmen, that are engaged in Traffic, that there have been far more encouragements for Merchants, and more vigorous attempts for the advancement of Commerce, within these four years and half, then in many ages before. I might for a proof of this allege the Royal Council, that is particularly set up for that purpose. I might instance in the increase of the Customs, which from thirty or forty thousand pounds in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's Reign, do now amount to almost four hundred thousand a year. I might urge all the Proclamations for the prohibiting of foreign Manufactures, and for the improvement of our own: I might reckon up the many new Statutes for the repairing of Havens, the mending of Highways, and the cutting of Rivers: But it is enough only to mention the Institution of the Royal Fishing, and the Royal Company: In both which our King has prosperously begun a Design, which will infallibly make the English the Masters of the Trade of the world; and that is the bringing in of our Gentry, and Nobility, to contribute towards it. When this shall be brought about, not all the little Crafts of the Hollanders, 
P. 151, 152, 153.  (which he magnifies so much) will serve their turn: But the English will outgo them in Industry, and Stock, as much as they do already in Shores, in Ports, in Ships, in Valour, in Virtue. This, Sir, we shall undoubtedly live to see accomplished, ●eeing the Gentlemen of England have so great an Example before them; of a King, who does not only make the Arts of Commerce and Navigation his business, and his interest, but his very delight and recreation.  
What he says of our Treasure, is most impudently objected against that Prince, who has retrenched himself in those expenses which his Predecessors maintained, when the Revenue of the Crown was far less. And he chose a very unseasonable time, 
P. 132.  to proclaim, that the Bloodsuckers of the Court devour the people, when those Bloodsuckers have parted with their very Food, and the ancient Deuce of their Offices, to lessen the charge of the Public. But his loudest outcry concerns the loss of our Dominion at Sea. 
P. 130.  And here he most invidiously compares the times of the Rump, with our present Naval Power. First of all, he might have understood, that the Fleets which were then set forth against the Dutch did mainly consist of the late King's Ships; and also that the whole Estates of the Crown, the Clergy, most of the Nobility, and Gentry, and indeed well nigh of the whole Nation were then at the Usurper's disposal. From hence he might have concluded, that even the Glory of their Victories is not so much to be given to the Riches and Interest of Scott, Hasilrig, or Vane, as to the Treasures of the King, and the Royal Party. But besides this, Sir, What will he be able to answer me, when I shall tell him, that our King has made our Sea-provisions far stronger than ever they were in any Age or Country before; and that too only by the help of a Revenue bounded by Law, and limited to the strict Rules of Justice? of the truth of this, he might speedily have been convinced, if he had visited any one of our Royal Stores, instead of describing Smithfield, Bedford Garden, the Conduits of London, morefield's, Hatfield Fishponds, and St Catharines' College in Oxford. Never was there a greater abundance of Materials in readiness! Never more skilful Builders! Never more formidable Preparations! Never more expert Seamen! Never more valiant Commanders! and, in one word to perfect all, never a Braver Admiral! An Admiral of whose undaunted courage, unwearied diligence, and fortunate Conduct, all the Nations round about us have beheld so many unquestionable proofs, even from the very first years of his youth. And if I thought that all the men of Honour, wherewith France now abounds, were not yet satisfied how little Monsieur de Sorbiere deserves to be Historiographer Royal, I would desire no other instance to prove it, then only this; that when he declares he came into England, to content his curiosity, to see all the rare things, and men amongst us, 
Praef.  yet he scarce mentions the Duke of York.  
I will admit that hitherto he has only recited the extravagancies of the Rabble; let us now, Sir, come to that place, wherein he has chiefly exercised the profoundness of his skill, his own speculations, on the defects of our Monarchy, and the Factions of our Court. And that you may know how conversant he has been in all intrigues of State, as well as those of the Muses, I will give you his positive determination of one of the gravest points of Policy that ever was debated at a Council Table; and it shall be in his own words, to his intimate Friend Monsieur de Vaubrun. 
P. 116, 117.  To you Monsieur de Vaubrun (says he) being my Bosom Friend, a man that esteems me much, and one whom I honour infinitely, being also a Gentleman, that loves justice, as well as fight; I will reveal the bottom of my heart, and tell you the most secret of all my thoughts. What weighty matter does he introduce with this solemn Preface? He complains that the learned men of the English are not enough communicative. 
P. 93.  Certainly we shall find him of a better temper: No doubt he will now unfold some new Principle of Policy, and of the Laws of Humane Society, which he has discovered, that is not yet ripe for the public, and only fit to be committed to the trust of a particular confident. It proves so indeed! The Oracle which he immediately pronounces, is this: 
P. 171.  That Man was not made by Nature to fight with Man, but rather to enjoy the Benefits of peace: that God has not given us horns, hoofs, or claws; but 
Os homini sublime dedit.   
This, Sir, is all the mighty Mystery, of which he discharges his breast with so much Ceremony. And in which is he now more ridiculous, his History, or his Policy? His History, in speaking so many false reproaches aloud; his Policy, in whispering such trifles with so much caution. I beseech you, Sir, let us allow him the reputation of this new invention entire. Though he did not think fit to name the famous Author of the Lunar Globe, which he saw in the King's Closet: Yet I intent to be juster to him: And I will propose this Epitaph to be graved on his Tomb; Hic jacet primus Author hujus sententiae, Pax Bello Potior.  
This, Sir, is one trial of his Contemplative, you shall have more of his Practical Politics. He has ventured to declare the Queen Mother's thoughts, 
P. 127.  about her most private, and Domestic concernments; which were so near to her, that it was impossible for a thousand Madam Fiennes, to have given him any instruction about them. And in this he had no reverence for the greatest, and the most virtuous Princess of this Age, for the Mother of our King, nor for the Daughter of Henry the Great. He has made a disadvantageous Character on my Lord St. Alban to the French Nation, 
P. 128.  where he was before so well known, and where he lived long in so much honour. He has presumed on the King himself: he saucily conjectures at the reasons of the choice of his Ministers, 
P. 129.  as if he had been admitted into his Royal Breast as well as his Cabinet. He says, 
P. 121.  that His Majesty is forced to be familiar with his Nobility, and Gentry, to keep their esteem and good will: and so he endeavours to bring down those Virtues, of which he himself received so many proofs, to be only works of necessity. But seeing he confesses this generous affability to be able to hinder the King's Subjects from rebellion, methinks it might have prevailed on a mean stranger, to spare the Reputation of his Kingdoms. He insinuates, 
P. 132.  that the true Sovereign Power amongst us resides in the People. Which is a Doctrine that was scarce ever heard of in England till the year Forty eight, and vanished in Sixty. He affirms, 
P. 148.  that there is a mixture of all sorts of Government in the composition of our State, notwithstanding that we have so many Acts of Parliament that devolve the whole power on the Crown. His long discourse of the Privileges of the House of Commons, 
P. 133, to 143.  and the degrees of their increase, is nothing, but a wild Whimsy of his own Brain. There is no mention in any English Historian, that Edward the first, 
P. 137.  was the King that first call●d Knights, and Burgesses, to sit in Parliament: or that when they were so convened, he only used their Counsel, and rejected those of the Nobility and Gentry. And yet upon these imaginary faults, of which he supposes Edward the first Guilty, he here takes him into his discipline, 
P. 141, 142, 143.  reads to him a tedious Lecture of the Arts of Government, and treats the Wisest and most Victorious Prince of Christendom in that time, as imperiously as if he had been a Cadet of the House of Suze. But I am weary, Sir, of taking notice of such errors, which are only mistakes in History or Chronology. At least I need not go three hundred years back for them, seeing he is so much besides the Truth, in his account of the most Renowned action in this Age: the Kings Return: Which he wholly attributes to the Presbyterians. 
P. 58.  All the circumstances of that glorious Restauration are still, Sir, fresh in our memories: the very noy●e of those Triumphs, which filled the whole World with admiration, seems to be yet scarce out of our Ears. And shall we suffer him to fix all the honour of that Immortal Work on a private Sect? Whereas it was accomplished by the immediate favour of divine Providence, by the Wisdom of a Victorious General, by the perpetual and immovable Fidelity of the Royal Party, by the Hands, the Wishes, the Tongues, and the united Desires of three Kingdoms. 'Tis true indeed, the Presbyterians went along with the mighty Torrent; But the whole course of this happy Violence is not therefore to be attributed to them. You see, Sir, I am unawares fallen into a Metaphor, which does best resemble that Enterprise. It was in that, as in a sudden Land-Flood, which, as it comes down, carries with it Trees, and Stones, and Houses, and all that it meets in the way. And even all these which lay before quiet, nay which resisted the first Waters while they were weak, do add to the impetuosity of the Current, when it is going. But we must not therefore say that the Flood itself took its rise from thence: seeing it was, in truth, caused by Rain coming down from Heaven, and by Streams flowing in from every part of the Country. This allusion, Sir, I think does represent the whole matter to your mind. If it does not, however I have returned Monseeur de Sorbiere, an ill Similitude for one of his, where he compares the Protestants to the Ottoman Empire: 
P. 47.  which is so much an Intrigue of the Muses, that I will challenge all the Wits of England, and France, to interpret it. But if the Covenanters shall still be fond of this praise, which he here allows them, let them remember of how little value his Panegyrics are, seeing he calls Vsefelt a Hero: and if they will still maintain that they restored the King, let them take heed lest some mischievous royalist should tell them, that in one sense they did indeed occasion the King's Restoration. But in the same that Quintus Maximus meant after he had recovered Tarentum: who gave this answer to another Roman that had lost that place before, and yet boafted what share he had in regaining it. 'Tis true (says he) it was by your means indeed; Nam nisi tu perdidisses Tarentum, ego nunquam recuperassem.  
But the chief Secret into which he has pierced, is the late Controversy between my Lord Chancellor, and the Earl of Bristol. What subtle conclusions does he draw from it? what prophetical visions does he here reveal, concerning the terrible disturbances, that shall arise to our Government, many ages hence, from an accident, which was at an end, before he got back to Paris? What a formal division has he made of the whole Nation? Homer himself is not so punctual in marshalling the forces of the Greeks, and the Trojans: nor is there less fiction in this History, then in his Poetry. 
P. 126, 127.  On the Earl of Bristols quarter, he places the discontented against the Court, the City of London, the Presbyterians that brought in the King, the House of Lords, a great, and a strong party of the House of Commons, which he says is the true Body of that extravagant Body the Parliament. An Army numerous and formidable. On the Lord Chancellor's side, 
P. 127, 128, 129.  he ranks the Royal Family, the Bishops, Dea●s, and Chapters, all the Nobility, all the Rich Merchants, and Burgesses, (though he had before bestowed the House of Lords, and the City of London on the Earl of Bristol.) Thus he has drawn the whole Kingdom into Battalia: It is but now performing his office of Trumpeter, and a dreadful Battle will no doubt ensue. But how comes it to pass that all these Rumours of mighty wars did vanish on the sudden? Was it because they were English Cowards, 
P. 21.  and dared not fight? Alas, Sir, all this was only a fine story of encounters in the Air, whereof there was no other foundation then in the wild fancies of his own making. And may we not give that Character of our Historian, which he does of one of the Noble Combatants, 
P. 126.  that his great Wit has inclined him to be Romantic? Is not this the true trick of a Romancer, to bring in many Princes fight together in a wood, without giving any account how they came thither?  
But the danger is over. All is quiet again; and long may it so keep. For to speak t'ye, Sir, from the bottom of Monsieur de Sorbier's heart, Peace is better than Warr. Well then. 
P. 129.  He grants that the Victory did a little incline to my Lord Chancellor's Party: yet he has shown the bravery of his own mind, by defying the Conqueror. And here, Sir, I confess he has driven me upon one of the tenderest points in the world; which is the speaking concerning the fame of a great Man, while he is living. But I entreat you to lay before your eyes the many powerful arguments, by which I am moved at least to give a true testimony, though not a long elegy, concerning him. My Lord Chancellor is a man through whose hands the greatest part of all the public and private businesses of our Country do pass● And it will be most dishonourable for us, to suffer his name to be reviled in this manner, while he is scarce at leisure to look to its defence himself, by reason of his eternal Labours for the public Justice and Safety. And besides this, Sir, I can, for my own particular, allege another motive of nearer concernment. For I am to consider myself, as a Member of the Royal Society, and the University of Oxford, and the Earl of Clarendon, as Protector of one them, and Chancellor of the other.  
These, Sir, are some of his true Titles, however Monsieur de Sorbiere is pleased to pass them over, and give him worse in their stead. First of all, he says that he is a Presbyterian. 
P. 125.  At this ridiculous scandal, I assure you, Sir, I am not much grieved. I was (to tell you true) in a terrible affright, when I read what he reports, 
P. 127.  that almost all the City of London are Presbyterians. But now this passage has composed my mind again: For it is like to be a very exact computation, which he has made of that Sect, when the first man that he names for a Presbyterian, is my Lord Chancellor. He next tells us, that he is a man of the Law; a shameful disgrace: the Lord Chancellor of England● whose Office it is to govern and moderate the Law, is a Lawyer. As if I should endeavour to lessen the credit of Monsieur de Vaubrun, and prove him unfit to be Governor of Philippe Ville, and Colonel of Light-horse, by objecting that he is a Soldier; or of Monsieur de Sorbiere to be Historiographer Royal, by saying that he is skilled in History. But he is a Lawyer, and Statesman at once. Can this be any more disparagement to him, than it is to the whole Body of Lawyers in France, who in all times have managed the greatest Employments of that State? Could he not have recollected, before he writ this, that Monsieur de Segnier, the present Chancellor of France, is a Gentleman of the Long Robe? You see, Sir, what a good Satirist we have here got, who would undertake to abuse an English Statesman with such an argument, which must at the same time reflect as much upon his own Countrymen, his chief Friends, and Patrons● to whom he directs his Speech. But the worst is still behind. My Lord Chancellor is utterly ignorant of the Bell's Lettreses. 
P. 125.  This accusation is as decent as all the former. He dislikes our Carriers, for not b●ing Courtly; our Soldiers, for not putting off their Hats well; our Bishops, for their Gravity; and our Statesmen, for not being Grammarians, and Critics. But I will prove to him, by his own confession, that My Lord Chancellor deserves not this reprehension, and that he is a man skilful in all Polite Learning. He himself allows him to be a great Politician, 
P. 126.  and a very Eloquent Man. I have obtained, Sir, what I desired. You see how easy it is to justify the Earl of Clarendon, seeing the very man, that vilifies him, does at the same time gainsay himself, and suggest to me his praises, without my interposing any word in his commendation. If we should grant, that a man may chance to be a great dealer in Politics, without understanding any thing else (which y●t nothing but Monsieur de Sorbiere●s own example in this place, can persuade us to be possible) yet how can he be thought to attain to a perfect Eloquence without any skill in the Civil Arts? Where now is his Polite Learning? whence did he fetch this Idea of Eloquence? Let him produce his Notes out of Aristotle, Tully, Quintilian, Seneca, or any of the Rhetoricians of Antiquity; And then let him tell me, whether they do not all with one voice consent, that an Orator must of necessity be acquainted with all sorts of useful knowledge? But because he is so free in his reproof of my Lord Chancellor's unskilfulness in the Bell's Lettreses: I pray, Sir, what signs has this great Aristarchus himself given, of his own proficience in them? Where do we find in him any footsteps of the True Spirit of the Grecian or Roman Wit? What reason have we to envy his judgement in the Classical Authors, when all the proof that he has given in this Book, of his being conversant in them, are only three or four pedantical Quotations, of which the chief is, 
Os Homini sublime dedit?  Thus far, Sir, in reply to him: But more is to be added concerning the Honourable Person, of whom he speaks in such mean terms. My Lord Chancellor is a Gentleman of a very ancient Family, of which Mr Cambden makes mention in his Britannia. His Education and first years were spent in a strict familiarity with many of the most Famous Men, not only of that Age, but perhaps of any other: of whom (to pass by some Reverend and Learned Churchmen that are living) it is enough to name Mr Chillingsworth, and the Lord Falkland. His first application to the Affairs of his Country, was in a time wherein extraordinary fidelity and sufficience were required. His Services to the late King were requited by the committing of many eminent Businesses to his management; and by a very high share in his Majesty's Favour; of which there are indelible proofs in many places of that Excellent Prince's Letters. Under him he was Chancellor of the Exchequer, Privy Counsellor, and designed Secretary of State. Since that time h● was Extraordinary Ambassador into Spain, and attended his present Master in his Misfortunes, which was undoubtedly the most glorious Scene of Honour in the world. By these several degrees of Great Employments, he ascended to that illustrious Station which he now enjoys. And as for the Qualifications of his Mind, if it be needful to add any thing to the Votes of the Royal Society, and the University of Oxford, I will declare, that of all the men of great worth, who have possessed that High Office, since Learning and the Civil Arts came amongst us, there was never any man that has so much resembled Sir Thomas More, and the Lord Bacon, in their several Excellencies, as the Earl of Clarendon.  
There might, Sir, much more be answered against all his false Insinuations, concerning the Political Condition of England. But I have seen a Book of Monsieur de Sorbiere's Discourses and Letters, whereof many were written to the late Cardinal Mazarini; and they are so full of gross flatteries, that they have wholly turned my stomach, from speaking any more of State Affairs: So that in truth, in the present humour into which the reading of them has put me, I had much rather offend on the other extreme, by an unjust silence, then by impertinent praises of the English Government. I will therefore conclude this whole matter, as I began it, by reflecting on a Passage of his own, in the story of Vlefelt; wherein he has given undeniable testimony, that he is wholly ignorant of the Rights of Princes, the true Policy, and the Law of Nations. He affirms, 
P. 184.  that Vlefelt fled into Sweden; that he became thereby effectually a Traitor, that he was the cause of the Swedes last invasion into Denmark, by advising Carolus Gustavus to turn his Army, from the Poles, against Coppenhagen. These are his own words. And what more apparent Crime could there be then this, which had like to have drawn after it the utter Ruin of that Kingdom? 
P. 186.  And yet immediately after he professes, that he makes no doubt, but the Illustrious Heroes, Vlefelt, and his Wife, will live to see their great merits acknowledged, and to enjoy in peace the applauses that are due to them for their fidelity to their King, and their zeal for the Fundamental Laws of their Country.  
But this, Sir, I suppose, is one of those which he himself calls the Besueves of his stile: 
Pref.  which though (as he says) Monsieur de Vaubrun uses to forgive, yet the King of France did not think fit to pass by.  
This is the Idea that he has drawn of the Manners, the Religion, and the Government of the English. But these are not the subjects which he principally regards: such matters as these, he confesses, that he only uses to touch upon, as they come in his way. 
Pref.  I will now therefore, Sir, consider his commerce with the chief heads of Parnassus, 
Ep. De.  and his intrigues of the Muses; that is (to speak plain sense, without the help of Apollo) I will examine some particulars in the account that he gives of the state of knowledge amongst us: This is the argument in which he triumphs: This is a Business in whose promotion he has spent the whole course of his life. 
Ep. De.  And that he may appear not to have bestowed all his labour in vain, I will allow, that he ought to be numbered amongst the men of Learning; Provided that he be content with that definition which he himself has laid down of Learned men in general; For he says, that it is the good custom of such men, 
P. 96.  to render themselves ridiculous by their malignity, and their Billings-gate-language. In conformity to this description, besides what is already past, let us now behold what he reports of Dr. Wallis, Dr. Willis, Mr. Hobbs, the Royal Society, the English Stage, their Eloquence, their Language, and their Authors.  
Dr. Wallis he condemns for his ill usage of Mr. Hobbs in the Mathematical Controversies that have passed between them. I will not endeavour to make any defence for this knowing and acute Professor, as he grants him to be. But yet let me say, that if Monsieur de Sorbiere himself being the Judge, so much modesty of language ought to be preserved, even in the contentions of Wit and Argument, when Passion is apt to overbear the most temperate Minds; then certainly he himself ought to have been careful of keeping to the same rule, in an Historical Relation, wherein he had no adversary to put him into a heat, and nothing but his own natural peevishness to exasperate his Anger. Dr. Wallis Entertained him at his house, made him partake of his Experiment upon a dumb Man, and behold the Model of a flat Floor, which (he says) did raise admiration in Mr. Hobbs himself. 
P. 94, 95.  And for all this, he might have deserved at least, to have been passed by in silence. But he had a good subject to be merry with, for want of Polish Music, and he must needs give the receipt of making an University Cap. 
P. 100  Take a Portefueille: cover it with black Cloth: fix a tuft of Silk upon it: and sew it to a Calot: and you have a perfect four corner'd Scholastical Bonnet. Do you not now wonder, Sir, why he did not call himself Tailor, as well as Trumpeter, to the Commonwealth of Learning? What kind of good breeding is this? How can he, after this, object to Dr. Wallis, that he has little in him of the Gallant Man? 
P. 100  Whose behaviour has the strongest scent, and wants most to be purified by the air of the Court? 
P. 101.  The Geometrician receives him kindly at his Table: The Historiographer Laughs at the habit of his Host. While he allows him extraordinary abilities, that are proper to himself, he abuses him for that, which is common with him to the Sorbonists in France, and almost all the Universities and Clergymen in Christendom.  
He declares that he profited very little by Dr. Willis's company, because he could not understand his Latin. 
P. 94.  And upon this he objects, 
P. 94.  that all the English pronounce that Language with such an odd Tone, as renders it almost as difficult to strangers, as our own Tongue. I might here, Sir, allege in defence of our pronunciation, that We do as all our neighbours besides: We speak the ancient Latin, after the same way that we pronounce our Mother Tongue, so the Germans do, so the Italians, so the French. But the obscurity of our Speech being not only his complaint, but of many other Foreiners, I will not stand long in its justification. There are so many peculiar slanders of greater concernment, which he alone has fixed upon us, that I will not regard this small objection, wherein there may be others, that agree with him. But however, Sir, from hence I may observe, that it was therefore impossible for him to take a right measure of the English Manners, and Disposition, seeing he was incapable of holding any sort of correspondence with us. He was not in a condition of being informed by our Gentry, our Farmers, or our Tradesmen, because he understood no English: nor by our Scholars, our Physicians, our Divines, our Mathematicians, because he professes, that our Latin was unintelligible to him.  
But to return, Sir, to Dr. Willis: I am able to give another Reason, why Monsieur de Sorbiere did profit so little by his Conversation. The substance of it was reported to me from Dr. Willis his own Mouth. And I doubt not, but the remarkable sincerity, and integrity, which that excellent Man preserves in all his Writings, would make this character of the other's vanity to be believed, though we had not so many other proofs of it. When Monsieur de Sorbiere came first to visit him; the Doctor esteemed him to be a man of some real and solid knowledge: the great names of Des Cartes, and Mersennas', which he hath frequently in his Mouth, might have persuaded him as much: he began to treat him accordingly: he entered into discourse with him, about some parts of Chemistry, and Physic, in which he desired his opinion. The Professor delivered it frankly, and plainly, as it became a Philosopher, without deceit or ornament. But expecting that he would have continued the Argument, with some material Objection, he soon found that the Traveller understood nothing of the whole matter: but answered him, as little to the purpose, as if he had only said Pax Bello Potior. He tried him in other subjects. But nothing could he get of him, except only some few Philosophical terms, 
P. 206.  and ends of Poetry, as In puris naturalibus Ex aequo & Bono contundantur grosso modo. 
P. 188.  Homo est animal credulum & mendax; and Os homini. Upon this he gave him over, as he would have done a yongtraveller of twenty years old, & left him to reckon the College Quadrangles, 
P. 102.  to tell the Pillars in Saint John's Cloisters, to commend their Grove, 
P. 103.  to measure King Harry's Sword, to describe Saint Catherines College (if there be any such there,) 
P. 105.  to examine why one of the Colleges took its name from a Brazen Nose, 
P. 102.  to number the Books in the Bodleian Liberary, 
P. 103.  to consider why it was built in the form of an H. and to count how many Folios, 
P. 104, 105.  and how many Quar●●● are above and below in every Shelf. These, Sir, he perceived were fitter Subjects for Sorbiere●o ●o handle. And he has confirmed this his Opinion of him to be true. For his long Tale of his Journey to Oxford, is made up of such childish contemplations: While he was speaking of that place, which for the beauty, and convenience of its buildings, for the vastness of its revenue, and above all, for the sobriety, the virtue, and the piety of its discipline, is to be preferred before all others that have been ever dedicated to liberal Studies, in the past, or present times.  
But here, Sir, I confess I have been a little too rigid upon him. It was ill done of me, to expect that he should on the sudden turn so unlike himself, as to give a good account of our University alone. I will not therefore bestir myself against him, for having omitted the most memorable things in Oxford. My quarrel to him now is upon another score. He has here committed a gross oversight in his own way: For in this exact enumeration of all our fine Rarities, he has wholly passed by one famous Curiosity, which was of all others the most proper for such an Historiographer, or at least for such a Trumpeter to mention, and that is Queen's College Horn.  
From his new acquaintance, I proceed to his rudeness, towards the only man in England, to whom he professes himself to have been long familiar. 
P. 65.  Mr. Hobbs was the chief man for whose sake he came over, and he speaks very many great things in his commendation: he praises his good humour, 
P. 66.  his excellent Wit, the vigour of his old Age, 
P. 97.  and his long and diligent search into Nature. After this, Sir, you will perhaps think that this Philosopher is safe from his invectives. But you will find it otherwise, he commends him indeed for that, upon which Mr. Hobbs lays not so much stress, for his good Breeding: but he wounds him in the most dangerous place, his Philosophy, and his understanding. He very kindly reports of him, 
P. 97.  that he is too dogmatical in his Opinions: 
P. 99  that he Writ against the Church of Rome, because he never had a right Idea of it, in his thoughts, and because he had only read the controversies on the Protestant side. How d●ye think, Sir, this will sound to Mr. Hobbs, who professes to have reduced all the Politics to demonstrations, when his Translator shall tell him, that he concluded against a Church, and a Religion, before he had heard one word that could be said in their defence? The Title of Dogmatical which he gives him, being propounded by a declared Sceptic, was the worst fault that could be charged on a Philosopher: and indeed it is the same, that he bestows on Borri, 
From P. 177. to 199.  while he strives in a long Story, to render him to appear nothing but a foolish Charletan. But let him not fear. I have no mind to aggravate this injury to Mr. Hobbs. It is the particular manner of his passing this judgement upon him, of which I will take notice. He tells the World that Mr. Hobbs was censured for Dogmatical, 
P. 97.  between his Majesty, and himself, in his private discourse with him. And is not Monsieur de Sorbiere a very fit man, to upbraid to Dr. Wallis, his want of good manners: when he himself is at once rude to his ancient Friend, and insolent to the King himself, in betraying what he was pleased to Whisper to him in his Cabinet.  
But however, to comfort Mr. Hobbs for this affront, I dare assure him, that as for Monsieur de Sorbiere's part, he understands not his Philosophy. Of this I will give an unanswerable testimony, and that is the resemblance that he makes of him, 
P. 97.  to the Lord Verulam: Between whom there is no more likeness, than there was between St. George and the Waggoner● 
P. 97, 98.  He says that Mr. Hobbs was once his Amanuensis; that from thence he has retained very much of him: that he has Studied his manner of turning things: that he just expresses himself in that way of Allegory, wherein the other excelled: and that he is in Truth a very remain of my Lord Bacon. This, Sir, is his opinion: but how far from being True, let any man judge, that has but tasted of their Writings. I scarce know two men in the World, that have more different colours of Speech, than these two great Wits: The Lord Bacon short, allusive, and abounding with Metaphors: Mr. Hobbs round, close, sparing of similitudes: but ever extraordinary decent in them. The one's way of reasoning, proceeds on particulars, and pleasant images, only suggesting new ways of experimenting, without any pretence to the Mathematics. The other's bold, resolved, settled upon general conclusions, and in them, if we will believe his Friend, Dogmatical.  
But it is the Royal Society, to which he is most favourable, and that he may show himself a great Benefactor to their design, 
P. 86.  he has bestowed Gresham College upon them. Whereas, you know, Sir, they only hold their present meetings there, by the permission of the Professors of the Foundation of Sir Thomas Gresham, to whom that house does belong. We are beholding to him for this noble Bounty. But perhaps the Citizens of London, who are the overseers of Sir Thomas Gresham's Will, may take it ill at his hands, especially having such just ground to quarrel with him already: For he said before, that they are almost all Presbyterians or fanatics.  
He comes to describe the Weekly assemblies of the Royal Society: and he does it in words becoming a meeting of Natural Philosophers. The Usher carries a great Silver Mace before the Precedent, 
P. 88, 89, 90.  Which is laid on the Cushion where he sits: they have a large Hall, and a handsome Antichamber: the place where they Assemble is Wainscotted: there is a long Table before the Chimney, seven or eight grey Chairs about it: some Benches behind, that are bare: the hindermost higher than the first: the Precedent sits in a Chair with Arms: his back to the Chimney: holding a wooden Hammer in his hand, wherewith he sometimes knocks the Table to make silence. Can you, Sir, endure to read all this stuff with any patience? I suffered his Tittle Tattle upon Rochester Bridg, upon the Eternal greeness of the Fields of Kent, upon the Walls of Lincolns-Inn-Fields, on the Guild-Hall, on the Ranks of Trees in morefield's, and many more such pretty Philosophical Discourses: But is not this a shameful sign of his weakness, that he has insisted so long on such mean circumstances, while he was describing a subject, that might have yielded him so much noble matter for his Pen? And when the Royal Society itself is so careful, that such ceremonies should be just no more, then what are necessary to avoid confusion? What other Language should he have used then this, if he had been to inform the World of his own School at Orange? Just so he should have proceeded. He should first have declared, whether the Room were Hung, or Wainscotted: Next, whether the Master sat with his back towards the Window, or the Chimney: then how many Seats there were for the Boys to sit upon: at last he should have drawn himself in a majestic Chair, his Ferula in his hand, and the poor Scholars trembling for fear at every rap on the Table.  
But all this is still pardonable: he has been utterly mistaken in the report of their main design. There are two things, that they have most industriously avoided, which he attributes to them: the one is a dividing into parties, and Sects; and the other, a reliance upon Books, for their intelligence of Nature. He first says, that they are not all guided by the authority of Gassendus, 
P. 92.  or Des Cartes; but that the Mathematicians are for Des Cartes, and the Men of General Learning for Gassendus. Whereas neither of these two Men bear any sway amongst them: they are never named there as Dictator's over men's Reasons; nor is there any extraordinary reference to their judgements. He also asserts that the Royal Society has appointed Lodgings, and established four thousand Livres a year, 
P. 87, 88  upon two Professors, who shall read to them out of Authors, and that they have begun a Library for that purpose. Whereas they have as yet no Library, but only a Repository for their Instruments, and Rarities: they never intend a Professorian Philosophy, but declare against it: with Books they meddle not farther, then to see what Experiments have been tried before: their Revenue they design for Operators, and not for Lecturers.  
I now pass over to his chief delight, the Bell's Lettreses of the English. He grants our Stage to be handsome, the Music tolerable, 
P. 167.  better I suppose, then that of the Polack Gentleman. But yet he says that our Poets laugh at the Rules of Time, 
P. 167.  and Place: that all our Plays contain the Actions of Five and Twenty years: 
P. 168.  that we Mary a Prince in the First Act, and bring in his Son fight in the Second, and his Grandchild in the Third. But here, Sir, he has committed a greater disorder of time, then that whereof he accuses our Stage: For he has confounded the Reign of King Charles the Second, with that of Q. Elizabeth. 'Tis true, about an hundred years ago, the English Poets were not very exact in such decencies: But no more than were the Dramatists of any other Countries. The English themselves did laugh away such absurdities as soon as any, and for these last Fifty years, our Stage has been as Regular in those Circumstances, as the best in Europe. Seeing he thinks ●i● to upbraid our present Poets, with the errors of which their predecessors were guilty so long since: I might as justly impu●e the ●ile absurdities that are to be found in Am●dis de Gaul, ●o Monsieur de Corneille, de Scudery, de Chapelaine, de ●oiture, and the rest of the ●amous Modern French Wits.  

P. 168.  He next blames the meanness of the Humours which we represent. And here, because he has thrust this occasion upon me, I will venture to make a short comparison between the French Dramatical Poetry, and ours. I doubt not, Sir, but I may do this with the leave of that witty Nation: For as long as I do not presume to slander their manners (from which you see I have carefully forborn) I hope they will allow me to examine that which is but a matter of Wit, and delight: I will not enter into open defiance of them, upon Monsieur de Sorbiere's account, but I entreat them to permit me only to try a civil Tournament with them in his War of Letters. I will therefore make no scruple to maintain that the English Plays ought to be preferred before the French. And to prove this, I will not insist on an argument, which is plain to any observer, that the greatest part of their most excellent pieces have been taken from the Spaniard: whereas the English have for the most part trodden in new ways of Invention. From hence I will not draw much advantage: though it may ●erve to balance that which he afterwards says of our Books, 
P. 169.  that they are generally stolen out of other Authors. But I will fetch the grounds of my persuasion, from the very nature, and use, of the Stage itself. It is beyond all dispute, that the true intention of such Representations, is, to give to mankind a Picture of themselves; and thereby to make Virtue beloved, Vice abhorred, and the little irregularities of men's tempers, called humours, exposed to laughter. The Two first of these are the proper subjects of Tragedy, and Tragicomedy. And in these I will first try to show, why our way ought to be preferred before theirs. The French, for the most part, take only one, or two Great Men, and chiefly insist on some one remarkable accident of their Story: To this end, they admit no more Persons, then will barely serve to adorn that: And they manage all in Rhythme, with long Speeches, almost in the way of Dialogues, in making high Ideas of Honour, and in speaking Noble things. The English, on the other side, make their chief Plot to consist of a greater variety of Actions, and besides the main design, add many other little contrivances. By this means, their Scenes are shorter, their Stage fuller, many more Persons of different Humours are introduced. And in carrying on of this, they generally do only confine themselves to blank Verse. This is the difference. And hence the English have these advantages. By the liberty of Prose, they render their Speech, and Pronunciation, more natural, and are never put to make a contention between the Rhythm, and the Sense. By their underplots, they often change the minds of their Spectators: which is a mighty Benefit, seeing one of the greatest Arts of Wit and persuasion, is the right ordering of Digressions. By their full Stage, they prevent men's being continually tired with the same Objects: and so they make the Doctrine of the Scene to be more lively, and diverting, than the precepts of Philosophers, or the grave delight of Heroic Poetry: which the French Tragedies do resemble. Nor is it sufficient to object against this, that it is undecent to thrust in men of mean condition, amongst the actions of Princes. For why should that misbecome the Stage, which is always found to be acted on the True Theatre of the World? There being no Court, which only consists of Kings, and Queens, and Counsellors of State. Upon these accounts, Sir, in my weak judgement, the French Drama ought to give place to the English, in the Tragical and lofty part of it. And now having obtained this, I suppose they will of their own accord resign the other excellence, and confess that we have far exceeded them in the representation of different Humours. The Truth is, the French have always seemed almost ashamed of the true Comedy: making it not much more than the subject of their Farses: whereas the English Stage has so much abounded with it, that perhaps there is scarce any sort of extravagance of which the minds of men are capable, but they have in some measure expressed. It is in Comedies, and not in Solemn Histories, that the English use to relate the Speeches of Waggoners, of Fencers, and of Common Soldiers. And this I dare assure Monsieur de Sorbiere, that if he had understood our Language, he might have seen himself in all his shapes, as a vain Traveller, an empty Politician, an insolent Pedant, and an idle pretender to Learning. But though he was not in a condition of taking advice from our Stage, for the correcting of his own Vices, yet methinks he might thereby have rectified his judgement about ours: he might well have concluded, that the English temper, is not so universally heavy and dumpish, when he beheld their Theatres, to be the gayest, and merriest in Europe.  
Concerning the English Eloquence, he bravely declares, 
P. 168, 169.  that all their Sermons in the Pulpit, and Plead at the Bar, 
P. 168, 169.  consist of nothing but mean pedantry. The censure is bold, especially from a man that was so far from understanding our language, that he scarce knew, Whether we move our lips, 
P. 169.  or no, when we speak. But to show him, that we can better judge of Monsieur de Sorbier's Eloquence, I must tell him, that the Muses and Parnassus are almost whipped out of our very Schools: That there are many hundreds of Lawyers and Preachers in England, who have long known how to contemn such delicacies of his stile. I will only give one instance for all. I believe, he could scarce have Bribed any Scrivener's Clerk, to describe Hatfield as he has done, and so to conclude, 
P. 158.  That the Fishes in the Ponds did often leap out of the water into the air, to behold, and to delight themselves with the beauties of that place.  
I will not attempt to defend the Ornaments, or the Copiousness of our Language, against one that is utterly ignorant of it. But to show how plentiful it is, I will only repeat an observation, which the Earl of Clarendon has made; That there is scarce any Language in the world, which can properly signify one English expression, and that is Good Nature. Though Monsieur de Sorbiere will not allow the Noble Author of this Note, to have any skill in Grammar Learning: Yet he must pardon me, if I still believe the observation to be true: At least, I assure you, Sir, that after all my search, I cannot find any one word in his Book, which might incline me to think otherwise.  
But I will be content to lay the whole authority of his judgement in matters of Wit, and Elegance, upon what he says concerning the English Books. 
P. 168, 169.  He affirms, That they are only impudent thefts out of others, without citing their Authors, and that they contain nothing, but ill Rhapsodies of matter, worse put together. And here, Sir, I will for once do him a courtesy. I will suppose him not to have taken this one character of us, from the Soldier, the Zealander, the Puritans, or the Rabble of the Streets: I will grant he might have taken an ill conceit of our writings, before he came over, from the usual judgement, which the Southern wits of the world, are wont to pass on the wit of all Northern Countries. 'Tis true indeed, I think the French, and the Italians, would scarce be so unneighbourly, as to assert, that all our Authors are Theivish Pedants. That is Monsieur de Sorbiers own addition, but yet they generally agree, that there is scarce anything of late written, that is worth looking upon, but in their own Languages. The Italians did at first endeavour to have it thought, that all matters of Elegance, had never yet passed over the Alps: but being soon overwhelmed by Number, they were content to admit the French, and the Spaniards into some share of the hoznour. But they all three still maintain this united opinion, that all wit is to be sought for no where but amongst themselves: It is their established Rule, that good sense has always kept near the warm Sun, and scarce ever yet dared to come farther than the forty ninth degree Northward. This, Sir, is a pretty imagination of theirs; to think they have confined all Art to a Geographical Circle, and to fancy that it is there so charmed, as not to be able to go out of the bounds which they have set it. It were certainly an easy and a pleasant work to confute this arrogant conception, by particular examples: It might quickly be shown; that England, Germany, Holland, nay, even Denmark, and Scotland, have produced ve●y many men, who may justly come into competition with the best of these Southern wits, in the Advancement of the true Arts of life, in all the works of solid reason, nay, even in the lighter studies of ornament, and humanity. And, to speak particularly of England, there might be a whole Volume composed in comparing the Chastity, the newness, the vigour of many of our English Fancies, with the corrupt, and the swelling Metaphors, wherewith some of our Neighbours, who most admire themselves do still adorn their Books. But this, Sir, will require a larger discourse than I intent to bestow on Monsieur de Sorbiere. I am able to dispatch him in ●ewer words● For I wonder how, of all men living, it could enter into his thoughts, To condemn in gross the English Writings, when the best course that he has taken to make himself considered as a writer, was the Translation of an English Author.  
But I beg your leave, Sir, that I may briefly add, That in the first Restoration of Learning, the English began to write well, as soon as any, the Italians only excepted: and that if we may guess by what we see of the Italians at this day, the English have continued to write well, longer than they. Sir Thomas Moor was contemporary with Erasmus, and though he was a man of the Law too, yet he yielded not much to that incomparable man, in the plenty of his invention, or the Masculine easiness of his stile. And ever since that time down to this (if we may take a measure of the English, by what Tully says of the Romans, in their most flourishing condition, that they had scarce above one excellent Poet or Orator in an age) we may make a very advantageous computation, for the honour of our Country. We have at this present, as many Masters of true and real Wit, as ever Greece produced in one age, whose names though I conceal, yet posterity shall declare. We have had many admirable Geniuses in Poetry, who have handled most of the ancient and modern subjects of fancy, with wonderful success. We can name many faithful and diligent Historians, 
P. 185, 186.  such as never strove to frame a Romance out of every story, that they managed. And the number of these will be shortly increased by the labours of a great man, from whom we hope to receive the History of our late wars, a subject fit for the pen of a Privy Counsellor to Kings, who had himself a great share in the conduct of these affairs which he is to relate. Our Mathematicians we may almost equal to those of all Europe besides: Our Physicians have long been applauded by all the Learned world; and certainly their Renowned College at London deserved to have been mentioned, as well as the Fencers at the Red-Bull. Our famous Divines have been innumerable, as the Dutchmen may witness, who, in some of their Theological Treatises, have been as bold with the English Sermons, as with our Fishing, and their robberies have been so manifest, that our Church ought to have reprisals against them as well as our Merchants. We have had many Philosophers, of a strong, vigorous, and forcible judgement, of happy and laborious hands, of a sincere, a modest, a solid, an unaffected expression, such who have not thought it enough to set up for Philosophers, only to have got a large stock of fine words, and to have insinuated into the acquaintance of some of the great Philosophers of the age. And above all, we have one small Book, which we dare oppose to all the Treasures of the Eastern, and Western Languages, it is that which was written by our Late King, and Martyr: Whose Majestical stile, and Divine Conceptions, have not only moved all his Readers to admire his Eloquence, but inclined some of the worst of his enemies, to relent their Cruelty towards him.  
After all these signs of his excellent judgement, and generous mind, there still, Sir, remains that which he has given of his good palate, For he has boldly determined the controversy, that had long depended in all the Kitchings of England, and France, which is the best way of eating, Chines of Beef, and Mutton, or Bisques, and Potages. This, I confess, was a matter fit to be decided by that Historian, Critic, Mathematician, Orator, and Physician, Who had Travelled throughout the world to acquaint himself with all the Learned men of all countries, and to push on all Sciences to perfection. He has here indeed behav●d himself like the true natural, and experimental Philosopher, whose business it is to take in all manner of observations, that can be got from the Senses. You see, Sir, how fairly I treat him, I allow the very Criticisms of his appetite to be a part of his Philosophy; and I look upon his affection to Fricacies before whole joints, to proceed from his love to the Doctrine of Atoms, before that of the two great standing dishes of Matter and Form. But yet I must tell him, that perhaps this Rigid condemning of the English Cookery, did not so well suit with his belov'd Title of Sceptic. According to the laws of that profession, he should first have long debated whether there be any taste, or no; whether the steam of a pot be only a fancy, or a real thing; whether the Kitchen fire has indeed the good qualities of roasting, and Boiling, or whether it be only an appearance. This had been a dispute more becoming a Sceptic, then thus to conclude Dogmatically on all the Intrigues of Haut gousts; and to raise an endless speculative quarrel between those that had been hitherto peaceful and practical Sects, the Hashe's, and the Surloiners.  
You may now, Sir, perhaps expect, that I should make some Comparison between the French Diet and the English. It were, I confess, a pleasant, and a weighty argument. But I am resolved to pass it over: not that I think we have the worst of the cause; but for a particular reason of my own. It is that Monsieur de Sorbiere may still remain in his error; For as long as he is ignorant that there is any good House Keeping in England, we are like to have no more of his company; yet I cannot but say to the advantage of Boiled Beef and Rost, that the English have the same sincerity in their Diet, which they have in their Manners: and as they have less mixture in their Dishes, so they have less sophisticate compositions in their hearts, than the people of some other Nations.  
But now, Sir, I confess he has quite tyr●d my hand, and I almost ashamed to behold this heap of his vanities arise to such a Bulk, as he ought to be, that he has given me this occasion to collect them; I will therefore in few words come to an issue with him: I will satisfy him in the request which he makes to this Reader. I am content to conclude from these his three month's travels, what kind of Observations he has made in the world these thirty years. This, Sir, is his own desire, and I obey him. But then I know not how he will be able to avoid the imputation of those Crimes with which he has so often slandered the English, of being a Doe-little, an Idle, a Lazy, and a useless Person. The description of his Voyage into Holland is not yet come to my hands: but if it be of the same thread with this, he had been much better employed, if he had only imitated the Roman Emperor's journey thither, and gone to gather Cockle-shells on that shore. If he has any friends amongst all the learned men of Europe, that were once his familiars, they would do well to advise him what weight his mind will bear: he is himself in the right, when he acknowledges, that these matters of state, 
Ep. De.  Characters of Nations, descriptions of Governments, Churches, and Courts, are far above the weakness of his Spirit. But yet the Man's abilities are not wholly to be discouraged; he may still prove a tolerable good flatterer of his Patrons: he may bring in his Vostre Tres Humble, artificially enough in the end of an empty Letter of compliments: he may serve to commend Philosophers when they are dead: or (to conclude with his own dear Epithet) he may make a sufficient Trumpeter in the Commonwealth of Learning. And in truth he has behaved himself, in this account of his Voyage, like a true Trumpeter; for Trumpeters, when they are sent into foreign armies or countries, are always blinded on purpose that they might not be able to give any certain intelligence, of the places through which they passed.  
And now, Sir, having dismissed the Historiographer Royal, that I may speedily put an end to your trouble, I will only in few words apply my speech to yourself. You may perhaps remember, that we have sometimes debated together, what place and time of all the past, or present, we would have chosen to live in, if our fates had been at our own disposal; and in that discourse, instead of desiring to have been born in China, we both agreed, that Rome, in the Reign of Augustus, was to be preferred before all others. The prerogatives of that time were very many: That City was then become the established seat of the Empire of the world: that Emperor had the good fortune to succeed a long civil war: the minds of all men were easily composed into obedience by the remembrance of their past misfortunes: the arts of Wit, Reason, and delight were in their highest perfection: the Court was the place of resort, for all the Lovers of generous knowledge: and such was the freedom of their manners, that Virgil, Horace, and Varius were admitted into the privacies, and friendship, of Agrippa, Maecenas, and Augustus. Beyond this we could fancy nothing pleasanter to a Philosophical mind; which was resolved to live according to the convenience, and Rules of Nature, seeing it might there have enjoyed at once all the varieties of an active life, and all the quiet, and peace, of a Retired.  
This, Sir, was then our opinion: But it was before the Kings Return. For since that blessed time, the condition of our own Country appears to me to be such, that we need not search into ancient History for a real Idea of happiness. 'Tis true that England is not the seat of the Empire of the world: But it may be of that which confines the world itself, the Ocean: To this Dominion our Nation is invited, by the Situation of our shores, the inclination of our people, and the Genius of a vigorous and skilful Prince. The time wherein we live is upon the recovery of an Universal peace; a peace established on the two surest foundations of Fear, and Love: a peace that was accomplished without proscriptions, and even without the ruin of those that resisted it: a peace that was produced by peaceful Arts, though it was by the conduct of an Army. The footsteps of the late dreadful war are not only vanished from our eyes, but now almost from our thoughts. If any thing of it still remains, it is only the good effect which it had on our country, the industry that was excited by it, and the wisdom which such woeful experience has taught us. The Government which we enjoy, is justly composed of a sufficient liberty, and restraint. And though it may be suspected in a querulous and discontented Age, a little to incline the people to disobedience; yet in a calm, and a secure time (such as this at present) it serves admirably well to breed a generous, an honourable, and invincible spirit. The temper of the English is free, Modest, Sincere, Kind, hard to be provoked: if they are not so talkative as others, yet they are more careful of what they speak: if they are thought, by some of their neighbours, to be a little defective in the gentleness, and the pliableness of their humour; yet that want is abundantly supplied, by their firm and their Masculine virtues: and perhaps the same observation may be found true in men, which is in Metals, that those of the strongest, and the Noblest substance are hardest to be polished. The Arts that now prevail amongst us, are not only all the useful Sciences of Antiquity, but most especially all the late discoveries of this Age in the real knowledge of mankind, and nature. For the improvement of this kind of light, the English disposition is of all others the fittest. And an universal zeal towards the advancement of such designs, has not only overspread our Court and Universities; but the Shops of our Mechanics, the fields of our Gentlemen, the Cottages of our Farmers, and the Ships of our Merchants. To all this, Sir, may be added the Profession of such a Religion, and the Discipline of such a Church, which an impartial Philosopher would choose: which by falling with the Throne, and by rising with it again, has given evident sign, how consistent it is with the Laws of humane society, and how nearly its interest is united with the prosperity of our Country.  
'Tis true indeed that after all these advantages, there may be some room still left for future amendments, in the union of our minds, the smoothness of our manners, and the Beauty of our Buildings. This last was the peculiar honour of Augustus, who is said to have found Rome of Brick, and to have left it of Marble. In this kind too we every day behold a wonderful progress, by the powerful influence of a Royal Example: so that I may in general affirm, that never any Nation in the world has proceeded by swifter degrees, to excel in Convenience and Magnificence. But whatever is to be added in this, or any other such way, we can never receive it from the petulant corrections of such vain Observers, as this whom I have here considered. No, Sir, we are to expect it from the many Noble and practical English Wits of this Age: and chiefly from yourself. For you must give me leave, Sir, to presage, that to you your Country is to owe very much of its Ornament, as well as experimental knowledge, its reputation and indeed all the living, and Beneficial Arts, the enlargement of their Bounds. This, Sir, I know will offend your modesty; but he is an ill Englishman, who would not have said as much as this, when your name was mentioned: which if I had omitted, I had been almost as injurious to our Nation, as this very Traveller whom I censure: for as he was un●ust in aggravating the faults, so I myself had been, in concealing one of the principal glories of England.  
I beg of you now, Sir, only to permit me to conclude with some Apology for myself. You may, perhaps, wonder all this while to see me undertake such an argument, and to prosecute it in a manner, which may appear perhaps a little too sharp for your eye, or my pen. You know, Sir, that I am enemy to all manner of controversies, that I hate contention, though in matters of the greatest concernment, and that I had much rather defend, then accuse: To this I can therefore only reply, for my excuse, that this Letter may not so properly be called an Accusation, as a Defence: For though I have confuted the sauciness of one particular Man, yet I have pleaded for a Great, a Valiant, and a virtuous people. Sir, I am.  
London, August 1, 1664. Your most Humble and Affectionate Servant. THO. SPRAT.