LETTER I.

'TIS but few Days (dear Sir) since I received the surprizing News of your Resolutions to exchange your Conntry for a City Life. I confess the Report at first startled me, and indeed I would not be­lieve it till I saw it solemnly confirm'd under your own Hand. Well, I find, to my great Astonishment 'tis really so, and [Page 2] the weighty Reasons you give for it, are, That you must have better Company Diversion and Education than your own Country can afford you. But then Sir, is there no way but presently to Horse and to London? Is there no room left for a second Thought? What, hath this London Expedition enhauns'd 'em all? Must your good old Hospitable Seat, that for so many Cenerations hath been the Sanctuary of an Honourable Family, be at last cruelly turn'd off and forsaken, and left empty and void, and sacrificed to the Vices and Folly, or at least to the Nonsence and Impertinence of a debauch'd City? For shame, consider a little, and don't let this Wild Thought take too deep a root; and then I'll engage to point you out a method whereby you shall not only improve your self with regard to your Company and Education, but withal enjoy the dear Opportunity of Li­berty and Retirement, without being ex­posed to the Interruptions and Disappoint­ments that must consequently await you in this scurvy Town.

But your Determinations are fix'd it seems, and there's no removing 'em; to Town you will come, let the Consequence be what it will. Well then, since I can't disswade you from this giddy and haz­zardous [Page 3] Adventure, I can however act the other part of a Friend, and lay some honest Cautions and Admonitions before you, by the Assistance of which you'll be the better qualified to guard your self against those Cheats and Villanies, which, as a Gentleman and a Stranger, you are liable to be encountred with, before you can come to have any tolerable Knowledge or Idea of the Town.

But, First, you say, that the main thing that brings you to London, is for the sake of good Conversation: Let me tell you Sir, I speak it from long Experience, you'll soon find your self cheated in your Expe­ctation. If it be good Company you want, you must e'en seek it somewhere else, for here 'tis hard, or rather not at all to be found. You may form what Chy­merical Notions you please to your self concerning the Men and Things of this Town; but, take the Word of your Friend for't▪ you'll quickly find your Mistake with a Witness. Alas! this Town is grown so monstrously corrupt and degenerate, and so strangely over-run with Vice and Folly, that there's little good to be expe­cted from the Society you'll find in't. There are some few conversable Persons, I confess, Persons of Sence and Honesty; but then they are so very few, and withal [Page 4] so hard to be discern'd and come at, espe­cially by a Stranger, that how you'll do to pick 'em out, I can't tell; for my own part, I solemnly declare to you, That after twenty years Experience, the Expence of my Money, and the irreparable Loss of my Time, I have but very few Persons in my whole Catalogue that I dare recommend to you, or can depend upon my self for Friends and Familiars.

No, no, Sir, if you will come hither, you must take Men and Things as they are, and not expect to find 'em just as you'd have 'em. If you'll come here you must sometimes expect to be encountred with the Apes and Peacocks of the Town, those useless Creatures that we dignifie and di­stinguish by the modish Titles of Fops and Beaux, and what's worse, be compel­led to suffer your Ears to be bor'd through and grated with an empty, tedious Din of their dull Impertinencies, or else the squeamish Coxombs look awry and scorn­fully upon you, and immediately repute you to be a proud, ill natur'd, unmannerly Country Fellow.

Sometimes you must be forc'd to un­dergo the peevish Wranglings of contentious Zealots; at other times be compell'd to ruffle with the Insolence of Bullies and Sharpers, or content your self to submit [Page 5] to the Infamous Characters of a Cowar'd and to be born down, insulted and impos'd upon, as often as those good natur'd Sparks shall think fit either to make you their Property or Buffoon; nay, what is still worse, you must be often forc'd to endure the fulsom Steam of beastly Ribaldry, intermix'd perhaps with the horrid sounds of Blasphemy and Profaneness, or else the Gentleman Moralist (as he is pleased to call himself) presently hisseth you out of his Company as a Pragmatick Ʋsurper upon the Freedom of Common Con­versation. Sometimes you must be con­tent to be cruciated with base and false Innuendo's, and sly and injurious Insinua­tions. Anon be plagu'd with the poyso­nous Breath of Backbiters, and the ser­pentine Hissings of Hypocrites and Tale­bearers. In short, in this beloved City, for the dear sake of which you seem so pas­sionately resolv'd to quit your Retirement, your honest Country Friends and Ac­quaintance, and what you ought to value most of all, the Habitation of your An­cestors, you'll meet with so many exalted Villanies and Rogueries, and so many Cheats and Tricks of all sorts and sizes, that I know not where or how to direct you to begin to form your new Conver­sation.

[Page 6] Here you'll see some pretending Piety, to promote their own Ambition and In­terest; others extolling Charity and U­nion, purely to advance Division and Re­venge; and the generality crying out, and exclaiming for the Good of the Publick, that under that Veil they may conceal their treacherous and base Ends, and have a larger Opportunity to propagate their own Advantage and Designs: and these together with innumerable multitudes of Rogues and Whores, Pimps, Bawds, and Cheats, make up the Grand part of the Conversation of this Town.

Now this is Blessed Company (is it not?) for a Man of Sence to be so fond of, that for the sake of it, he'll forgo the two best Properties of his Life, i. e. his Liberty and Retirement, and leave his Estate at Six's and Sevens, or at best to the Management of a few heedless Mercenary Servants, that 'tis ten to one, either through Avarice or Negligence, betray or deceive him. Come, Sir, I beseech you, consider again; look once more into the Nature of your Reso­lution: I protest to you, it seems to me to be a kind of hasty Folly exalted into Madness. What? Leave the endearing Sweets of a Country Life, for a little dull Noise, and rude Justlings and Confusion. To tell you my short Thoughts of the [Page 7] matter, if this wild Motion holds, I'm afraid I shall find your Name in Poor Ro­bin's Chronology the next New Year.

Believe me, Sir, the Country is so empty already, that a true Englishman cannot look into it, without a great deal of just Pity and Concern. Is it not a very ungrateful Spectacle, to see so many Noble Houses mouldring into ruin, and dropping down for want of Inhabitants? and then to behold the prodigious Growth and Increase of this unweildy City, and to observe what a strange multitude of People there is jumbled together in it; who can reflect upon this, but must necessarily be­lieve, that the Head in a little time longer will grow so much too big for the Body, that it must consequently tumble down at last, and ruin the whole? This is a Misfortune, which I'm confident would well become the Wisdom of the Nation to prevent; but 'tis foreign to my Design, and so I will not insist upon't: besides I have troubled you long enough, and per­haps too long already; and therefore will trouble you with no more now, but pur­sue my Design from Post to Post, till I have either wean'd you from the vicious Inclination of coming to London; or at least detected, and exposed to you the ha­zards and follies that attend upon it.

LETTER II.

SIR, in my former I briefly shew'd you what kind of Conversation you must expect when you come to Lon­don; and by the way, I would not have you suspect, that I have been any ways partial in my Relation, or that I intend to be so for the future. You may depend upon't, you'll find the Men and Things as I have reported 'em, and in some cases worse. But let them be what they will, it seems you will come to Town; you're cloy'd with your honest Country Diver­sions, and so are resolv'd to come up hi­ther in quest of new and more agreeable Pleasures, as well as better Society.

I must tell you that this is a worse No­tion than your former; I must own, in­deed, there is some small matter to be said in point of Conversation, for this of Plea­sure [Page 9] there's nothing at all to be urg'd: 'tis a Notion perfectly extravagant, and in the Judgment of all sober Men, stands condemn'd as a foolish ridiculous Argu­ment; and so will you too for making use of it. We have some sort of Antick­tricks used here, 'tis true, to deceive Men out of their Time and Money, which per­haps may pass upon the foolish part of the World and the Mob, under the Character of Pleasure; but alas! when you come to take off the Vizard, and look into 'em in earnest, they are nothing else but pure Cheats and Delusions. He that will ju­stify the Reasonableness of an Adventure, must be sure to prove the Prize at least to equal the worth of what he hazards for it; and when you can do this, I shall be of your Mind, and allow you have done very wisely, when you have exchang'd your Country for a City Life; but then, in the Interim, I conjure you not to stir, till you have clear'd the Point. I'm afraid, Sir, to tell you my Thoughts, you have a wrong Notion of Pleasure in general, and falsly esteem that to be Pleasure and Diversion, which in truth is nothing else but Vice or Folly. I hope you don't ima­gine there's any real Pleasure in the De­baucheries or May-games of the Town, that's a dangerous Principle indeed; and if you [Page 10] once suffer your self to be imposed upon by't, you'r in the ready road to utter Ruin and Destruction. Perhaps you may ex­pect mighty matters from the Play-house too; why, indeed, that is the only Di­version we have in Town, that can any ways pretend to a Singularity or Exce­ption from the Country; but there too (tho' 'tis the best way of passing away an idle Hour, as I know of) you'll be en­countred whith such a variety of ridicu­lous Scenes and Actions, that in the main you'll hardly find it worth your trouble. There you'll find some clapping and stam­ping, others hissing and scoffing; and per­haps both without any Reason: There you'll see some a Cock-horse on the Seats, damning and confounding the Play and Players, they know not why or for what; others throwing about their Wigs, and almost blinding you with their fulsom Powder, or tormenting you with the nau­seous scents of their Perfumes and Pulvi­lios; others prating with Orange-wenches, or bantering the Whores, and what's more probable, the Whores bantering of them. In short, there's such a strange Confusion and Jargon amongst 'em, and such a huddle of Men and things jumbl'd together, that unless you can abstract the Good from the Bad, and withal draw. Observations and [Page 11] Diversions from 'em both, I can't tell what kind of Pleasure or Satisfaction you can propose from thence. 'Tis the very same in all the rest of our pretended Di­versions, i. e. Bowling-green's, Cock­pits, Tennis-court's, Ordinary's, Ball's, Musick, Entertainments, &c. tho' the Re­creations in themselves may most of 'em be innocent, and harmless enough; yet they are generally so vitiated and cor­rupted, and the Pleasure that they pretend to, is so interwoven with Danger, as well as Vexation of Spirit, that I defie the greatest Master of the Town to make it appear that there is not more Pain and Disappointment, than there is real Plea­sure or Satisfaction, attending upon the best of 'em. I dare say, if you could be perswaded to make a fair Estimate, and compare the sickly, feeble Pleasures of this Town, with your own Noble and Manly Recreations, you'd find the latter turn the Scale, with a great deal of over­weight. Ours are all but wretched Coun­terfeits and Impostures, and will hardly endure the Test of a Fruition. Indeed they may be something grateful to us at first, but after we have repeated 'em once, or twice, they grow flat and dull, and at last loathsom: We are here like so many Bees in a Garden, humming and roving about [Page 12] from one Flower to another, foolishly en­deavouring to keep up our Course of Plea­sure, by a continued succession and circle of Varieties. I'm confident, Sir, if you had made so many Tryals of all this, as I have done, you would not suffer your self to be imposed upon by the roving Di­ctates of a blind Imagination; or run the foolish risque of being perpetually toss'd to and fro, in the search of new Vanities, or else to be contented to endure the tiresom Scenes of the old repeated Impostures. 'Tis no matter for multiplying Words; besides I'm writing of Letters, which should be drawn into as narrow a Compass as may be; or else there's enough to be said, to shew you that your Expectations from the Pleasures of the Town, are much bigger than your Enjoyments can be; and that those in the Country, are much pre­ferable to them. Your Diversions in the Country, i. e. your Hawking, Hunting, Fishing, Fowling, and the like, are Noble, Manly, and Generous, and do not cloy or satiate their Possessors; but are still im­proving upon 'em, and are every Day growing more grateful, and delightful; they are not spent or wasted by Fruition, as ours are, but still the more they're en­joy'd, the more they please and gratifie the Enjoyers. Besides, you would do well [Page 13] to consider the Expence of the Pleasures of this Town: Yours are all free and open, and deriv'd to you, as it were, from the ge­neral grant of Nature; Ours mercenary and base, and not to be come at, without a certain unavoidable charge and danger: besides all this, all the Pleasures of this Town, may be all run through in the nar­row compass of two or three short Days, and when that's done, you do but run the same foolish Round, tread the same Stage over and over again; and what can be more ungrateful to an Ingenious Man, than to have his Sences perpetually grated and imposed upon by the dull Repetition of the same thing? But here I'll leave you; but first I charge you, in the Name of a Friend, to take this Matter home again to Your self, and put it once more into the Ballance, with your Reason and Judgment.

LETTER III.

IN my two former, I gave you my hasty Thoughts concerning the Con­versation and Pleasures of the Town. In this I intend to trouble you only with my Opinion concerning the Education you expect in it. Education, I confess, is a most precious and estimable Treasure; a Mine that contains so many rich Veins, that no Persons can be poor, that are in posses­sion of it, unless they be such, whose Sloth and Idleness will not suffer them to dig out the Ore. But, Sir, as to your Point, the great Question is, what kind of Edu­cation it is that you come to London to be improv'd in: You know I am sensible your Education has been hitherto very Liberal and Genteel, and that you're al­ready [Page 15] a tolerable Master of most of the useful Qualifications, which are required in a Gentleman. But supposing you were not, and if that there were some other Rudiments, which you either wanted, or at least had a desire to be better instructed in; why, I wonder may not there be as good Opportunities to improve 'em in the Country, as in this Town. Indeed, if you have a Mind to learn to Fiddle and to Dance, and shew little Apish-tricks, or to be exact in the Rules of playing the Fool, or the Pedant, here you may be equipt. I confess, if you have a Design to make your self a good Proficient in the Arts of Whoring, and Drunkenness, or to understand exactly the Methods of Debauchery and Profaneness, this is indeed the Place of the World.

But then, for the Solid and Substantial parts of Education, such as are Naviga­tion, Architecture, Heraldry, Fortification, Limning, and the like, I'm very confi­dent, they may be acquir'd with far greater Freedom and Conveniency in the Country, than they can be at London; especially by a Gentleman of an Estate, that has it in his power, to choose what kind of Tutors and Directors he pleases.

No, Sir, you must ev'n keep at Home, if you expect to improve your Education; [Page 16] there you may enjoy the precious Op­portunities of Quiet and Sedateness, which you must not expect when you come hither: Here you must expect the quite contrary, to be encountred with Noise and Non-sence, and to have your Thoughts vitiated and disturbed with Wranglings, and Impertinence; which are the very Bane and Canker of Study and Medita­tion: But in the Country, all things are generally still and calm; there you have few Cares to bend and torment your Mind, and fewer Dangers to fright or discompose you, there's no Hurryings and Scramblings, nor Justlings, nor Counter­mining of one another; but all the busie Actors are innocently and industriously marching on in their proper Stations, and, as far almost as the Human Nature is ca­pable of, husht into perfect Rest and Repose. And now, Sir, can you think of these things, and at the same time re­tain your giddy Resolution to quit 'em all, for the sake of a noisie paultry City.

I would not have you mistake me, I am not advising you to a sower Philoso­phical Life, or shutting you up in a Cloi­ster. I grant indeed, that the Flute and Violin, that Dancing, Singing Fencing and the like, may be very proper and innocent Qualifications for a young Gentleman to [Page 17] pass away an idle Interval; but then, I would not have him, like Nero, prefer his Fiddle to his Empire; or, like Domitian, spend his whole time in catching Flyes: I confess, if he could use them as all Bables and Trifles ought to be used, play with them at his Leisure and then throw them by, there's no harm in them, but they are rather an Accomplishment.

To make as short of the Matter as I can, there is but one thing within the Compass of my Experience, in which this Town can any ways improve your Education beyond the Country, and that's a small thing in Point of Conversation. If you were so well weighed both in your Judg­ment and Principles, that you might be turned loose to take a short view of the Town without any Danger, I mean, if you could run through the different Socie­ties and Humours of it, without being infe­cted or seduced by any of 'em, and withal could extract from them too some good Morals and useful Observations; why then, if you did make a Winter Trip to London for a Month or two, and stay no longer, then indeed there would be no great matter of Harm or Hazard in it; but to leave your Estate to the Ma­nagement of Servants, and your House and Gardens to run into Ruin and Disorder, [Page 18] and to come up hither, and spend your Time and Money, purely under the Pre­tence of better Company, Diversion and Education than your own Country can afford you, is such an unaccountable Mix­ture of Folly and Madness, that 'twill at once render you the Pity, Scorn and Won­der of all that know you. But here I'll leave you to retire into your self, and to reflect in earnest upon the Nature and Consequence of what you are about.

LETTER IV.

HAving made some General Observa­tions and Reflections upon the three Things which chiefly induce you to leave the Country and come to Town; and withal having briefly told you my Thoughts concerning the Vanity of your Pretensions, and in some Measure demonstrated to you, That you either have, or at least might have as good Opportunity, both for Conven­sation, Pleasure, and Education in the Coun­try as you can have in London. I might have stopp'd there and left the Acquital that these have receiv'd, at the Tribunal of Reason and Common Experience, to have included all the rest: But Sir, that will not thorowly answer my present Design. I intend to expose the whole Town to you, as the Spartans of old were wont to do their drunken Helots to their Children, to wean them betimes from the vicious In­clination to Wine and Debauchery. I in­tend to lead you from one Seat of Action [Page 20] to another, and give you a short View of most of the Dangers, Tricks and Villanies which, as a Gentleman and a Stranger, you will consequently be exposed to when you come to it. As to the Town it self, 'Tis a kind of large Forrest of Wild Beasts, where most of us range about at a venture, and are equally Savage, and mutually de­structive one of another. I wish 'twere possible to give you a Distant View of the State and Manner of it. I'm confi­dent the Spectacle (if you were not really bewitch'd) would be so horridly odious and ungrateful, that you'd have small Lust to come at it, notwithstanding the Fury of your present Inclinations. The first thing that you'd be encountred with would be the dismal Prospect of an uni­versal Poverty, and Crowds of miserable People, either wrack'd with the Agonies of their own Guilt or Folly, or groaning under the intolerable Want of Bread, or mad or infatuated by Oppression, or desperate by a too quick Sence of a con­tinued Infelicity; here you'd see us all generally busied to trappan, undermine and deceive one another, which we are forc'd to do to make good our mistaken Pretence to a Life of Sensuality and De­light. If you cast your Eye upon the Court, you'd see but few there but Flat­terers [Page 21] and Hypocrites, except it be some nauseous useless Creatures that are only fix'd there for Show, and indeed are fit for nothing else. If you look into West­minster Hall among the Lawyers, there you'll be entertain'd with little else but hideous Complaints for Want of Money and Business, and find 'em all so sower and ill natur'd that you can hardly speak to any of 'em without endangering your Nose. Look among the Religious preten­ders and you'll see them in the very same Condition, all furiously hating, and un­charitably censuring one another, snapping, snarling, grinning and biting, and almost every Party wishing all the rest damn'd, but just those few that agree with them in their own Opinion and Judgment. Observe the Shops, and you'll see an Uni­versal Discontent and Melancholy hanging in the Faces of their respective Owners. You would see all these things, and many other unpleasant and tormenting Objects. And what sensible Man then would not be mightily rejoyc'd and satisfy'd that his better Fortune hath remov'd him from hence, out of the Noise and Participation of all these Evils and Calamities, and be constantly alarm'd, affraid and disturb'd that some cross and malicious Accident should force him hither?

[Page 22] Consider, I beseech you, what are the Advantages and Goods of this Town, that can give you any just Reason to be so fond of it; or what Evils in the Country that can render it so odious and obnoxious to you, and engage you to forsake it in such a Hurry and Affright. Suppose you were now at some convenient Stand, from whence you might take a full and delibe­rate View and Prospect of [...]em both, and were just making a Pause to survey and compare them one with another, suppose that having viewed over all the Comforts and Enjoyments of a Country Life, and the Blessings and Sweets of Retirement and Liberty, you were now looking for­ward upon the Town, and that all in a View you saw the strange Hurries and Im­pertinencies, the busy Scramblings and Ʋn­derminings, and, what is worse, the mon­strous Villanies, Cheats and Impostures in it; suppose, I say, that both these were in your View, i. e. the Content, Happiness, and Quiet of the Country, and the Distur­bance, Hazard and Noise of the City. In such a Case, I hope I need not direct you to make your Election. Well, the Case is the very same, and if true innocent Delight and Diversion be preferable to Debauchery and Excess: If Liberty be bet­ter than Confinement, if a wholsom open [Page 23] Air be better than contagious Smoak and Stink, and a quiet easie Life better than a Life of Noise, Vexation and Dis­appointment, why then the Country is better than the Town, and there is none but Madmen or Fools will venture to ex­change the one for the other, and, like the Dog in the Fable, relinquish their Sub­stance to catch at such a perfect Shadow.

And, now [...], who can sufficiently wonder at your Infatuation, that you should object against the Dismission of so treacherous a Thought, such a viperous Inclination, that certainly will gnaw and devour all your true Happiness and Felici­ty. This is a Pitch certainly beyond the Common Degree of Folly; there must be some Enchantment, some powerful Philtrum in it, that can make you unhap­pily in love with any thing so much below your self, and, what's worse, so very much deform'd, and a Jilt beside. But I must not trouble you too long at a time, and therefore, in short, if you will indeed ren­der your self a Competent Judge, whe­ther a Country Life be a Pleasant or Dismal thing; enter upon it anew, and endea­vour to improve and make the most of the Advantages of it, and then your own Experience will be your best and most Authentick Informer.

LETTER V.

SIR, it were the Work of many Vo­lumes rather than the Business of a few short Letters to describe the distinct Advantages that are wrap'd up in the Comprehensive Felicity of a Country Life; but it seems the utmost I can say in the Case is to no purpose, your Determina­tions are unalterably fix'd for the Town, so that I won't give you or my self any more impertinent Trouble upon that Ac­count, but rather turn the Current of my Discourse another Way; and first, tell you my short and blunt Opinion of what it is that hath inclin'd you to this wild Reso­lution, and then pursue the grand Part of my Design, i. e. to expose to you some of the most dangerous Cheats and Tricks of the Town, that, as a Young Gentleman and a Stranger, you are most liable to be catch'd and trapan'd by.

[Page 25] First then, to tell you my thoughts in short, I'm affraid your chief Argu­ment for leaving the Country will appear to be this, viz. that you have too much time upon your hands, and to be rid of it you will venture to hazard your self, your Estate, Health, Liberty, and Retirement, and all for Company, nay, what's worse, take in the Assistance of toylsome and laborious Vice, and call it by the false Name of Pleasure rather, than be idle. And, what! could the Country afford you no Instruments for Relief in this Case? Had you no Books to divert you, nor no Opportunities to come at any? Was there no Gentleman of Parts and Learning, that you might exchange and deal your Thoughts with? Had you no Gardens nor Walks, no Fishing nor Fow­ling, nor was there no other Diversion to be found out to deliver you from this intolerable State of Idleness? That's hard indeed. I'm confident Leicestershire did not use to be so barren, I have of­ten heard your good old Father say, that you never wanted innocent Diversions there, and that a Country Gentleman might make his passage through human Life in that County, with as much Ease and Satisfaction, as in any part of the World beside; but the Scene is altered [Page 26] now, it seems; your Father was a dull, old phlegmatick Fellow, and only hug'd himself in a little old-fashion'd Country Happiness, a little, good, honest, down­right House-keeping, &c. All which, in these Latter Days, are grown the Scorn and Aversion of our new-fashion'd Gen­try.

Indeed Sir, I must agree with you, that Idleness is a very dangerous thing, and the fertile Seminary of almost all other Vi­ces; but then I cannot grant that London is a proper Place to remove you out of the reach of it. A Gentleman here is in the main a Creature that's compos'd of nothing but Pleasure and Idleness, that, like the Leviathan in the Deep, thinks he hath little else to do in the Town but to take his pastime in't. I'll give you a short Account how some of our true-bred City Gentlemen manage their time, and then leave you to make your own Infe­rence.

In this Town we have three distinct Sorts of Idle Companions, which may be properly differenced by the Respective Titles of Sots, Beaus, and Gamesters, and perhaps it may not be much amiss if I trouble you with a short Character of each of 'em, as far as 'tis consistent with my present Design. At worst, 'twill ei­ther [Page 27] serve to divert or caution you, and if it does but one of 'em, I'm satisfied.

LETTER VI.

LETTER VII.

SIR, having finish'd the first Part of my Design, and, as I said, expos'd the Town to you, as the Spartans were wont▪ to do their Drunken Helots to their Children. I come now to the second thing; i. e. first, to lay before you some of the Humours, Tricks and Cheats of it, which, as a young Gentleman and a Stranger, you are in most danger of; and secondly, to give you some general Dire­ctions and Advice, how you may best guard your self against them. And first, Sir, I will wait upon you to the Playhouse (for thither I'm confident your Inclinations or Curiosity, or both together, will soon lead you) and bear you Company accor­ding to the best of my Judgment through the Different Accidents and Adventures which, as a Stranger, you must expect to be encounter'd with as soon as you come there. In our Playhouses at Lon­don, [Page 39] besides an Upper-Gallery for Foot­men, Coachmen, Mendicants, &c. we have three other different and distinct Classes; the first is called the Boxes, where there is one peculiar to the King and Royal Family, and the rest for the Per­sons of Quality, and for the Ladies and Gentlemen of the highest Rank, unless some Fools that have more Wit than Money, or perhaps more Impudence than both, crowd in among 'em. The second is call'd the Pit, where sit the Judges, Wits and Censurers, or rather the Censu­rers without either Wit or Judgment. These are the Bully-Judges that damn and sink the Play at a venture; 'tis no matter whether it be good or bad, but 'tis a Play, and they are the Judges, and so it must be damn'd, curs'd, and censur'd in Course; in common with these sit the Squires, Sharpers, Beaus, Bullies and Whores, and here and there an extravagant Male and Female Cit. The third is distinguisht by the Title of the Middle Gallery, where the Citizens Wives and Daughters, toge­ther with the Abigails, Serving-men, Jour­ney-men and Apprentices commonly [...]ake their Places; and now and then some disponding Mistresses and superannuated Poets; into one of these you must go, and truly, considering your Circumstances, [Page 40] I think the Pit is the most proper. Well, when you come there, the Eyes of every Body are presently upon you, especially of the Whores and Sharpers, who imme­diately give out the Word, to try if any body knows you; and if they find you're a Stranger, then a Lady in a Mask, alias Whore, which (as they express it) is a good Tongue-Pad, is forthwith detatch'd to go and sound you, and in the mean time a Cabal of Bullies and Sharpers are consulting which way you must be manag'd, and passing their Judgments upon you. The Lady comes up to you with a kind of formal Impudence, and fixes herself as near to you as she can, and then begins some loose, impertinent Prate, to draw you into Discourse with her. If she finds you a Man for their Turn, and a true Squire, with some sort of Subtil and Insinuating Civility, she leaves you a little, to go and make her Report to her Friends and Allies, that are earnestly waiting to know the Success of her Ne­gotiation, in another Part of the Pit; here some proper Measures are soon re­solv'd upon, and she's dispatch'd to you again with new Instructions, and will be sure to stick to you till the End of the Play; and in all the Interludes be con­stantly chattering to you, to screw herself [Page 41] as far as possible into your Acquaintance, and familiarity. When the Play's over she certainly marches out with you, and by the Way, perhaps does you the Favour to let you have a Glimpse of her Painted Face, &c. if she sees you take no No­tice of her, and seem insensible of her De­sign, she comes to a close Parley with you, and must needs know which way you go; be it which way it will, her way's the very same; and so to avoid the trouble of call­ing another Coach, if you'll set her down, she'll give you a Cast another Night; 'tis ten to one but this is agree'd to: and now she has got you by her self, she begins to Cajole and flatter you, to commend some particular Part; your Shape, Meen, Carri­age, Good-nature, and Civility; but above all, the Kindness in taking her into your Coach; in Consideration of which, if you'll do her the Favour to go Home with her to her Lodging, she'll do her best to make you Amends: When you come there, the first part of the Entertainment is, with her own Character, and Circumstances, which she commonly makes use of, for an Introdu­ction to enquire into yours; when she has fully equip'd her self with your whole State and Condition, if she finds that you're worth her trouble, why, then she's so much captivated with your Genteel [Page 42] Deportment, free Disposition and your Even Temper and Conversation, that you must needs Dine with her to morrow, and thus the Train is laid that will effe­ctually blow you up and ruin you inevi­tably, if you give her a second Opportunity to touch it with the fatal Coal. You are hardly gone out of her Room, but in comes the rest of the Confederacy, a Set of Bullies, Sharpers and Whores, and then the Tables are soon turn'd, and you that were but the last Moment one of the most Accomplish'd Persons in the Universe, are now made the grand Laughing-stock for the Night; your Dress must be ana­tomized, your Meen and Dialect Buf­foon'd and Ridicul'd, in short, they con­clude you fit for nothing but a Cully, and that they resolve by some means or o­ther to make of you. But to return a­gain to the Playhouse. If they find their Whore can do no good with you, then they try another Expedient, an Ingenious Gentleman that's born Westward of Eng­land makes up to you, and he, forsooth, must know what Country-Man you are, or what's a Clock by your Watch? or what Part of the Town you lodge in, or where you Sup? These sort of Sparks are commonly well stock'd, I mean, with Confidence and Impertinence, and so [Page 43] don't stand much upon Forms and Cere­monies with you; but, by his Soul, if you'll go along with him to the Tavern and drink an honest Gentleman's Health of your Country, which he either knows, or at least has heard his Name▪ he can carry you to a Glass of the best Wine in London; his Bus'ness with you is of the same Na­ture with the former; if he can wheedle you thither, first to make you drunk, then to draw you in to Gaming, and then by the help of his false Dice, and other tricks and slights of Hand, the only Arts that he's Master of, he soon gets your Ready Money, takes your Notes for more by which means he links you so fast to him▪ that without the greatest Caution, you are insensibly ruin'd before you can disen­tangle your self. But if this don't pass upon you neither; why then comes a third, and his Business is to draw you in­to a Quarrel, or at least to try whether you'll fight or not upon Occasion; and if you won't do that, they naturally conclude that a Coward and a Cully are convertible Terms, and so will be constantly teazing you till they have gained their Point. His Way of proceeding with you, is ei­ther to tread on your Toes, cough in your Face, ruffle, crowd or discompose you. But after all, if he finds you resent [Page 44] his Behaviour and grow rough with him upon the Matter, he flies presently to his Grand Reserve, beg's your Pardon, and sneaks off. When neither of these can do your Business, then comes up a For­lorn Hope, a worthy Old Matron, deeply skill'd in the famous Science of Procura­tion, and she accosts you first with a Scri­pture Phrase or two perhaps; or if she finds that don't so well agree with your Palate (for some of your Country Gentle­men are not over-fond of Scripture nei­ther) she changes her Dialect into Bawdy, and so with a little of one and t'other, and a Check under the Chin into the Bargain, she whispers you i'th' Ear, and tells you in plain Terms, she perceives▪ you're a young Country Gentleman, and if you have a mind to have a Taste of the Town, she lives in Bow-Street in Covent-Garden, and if you'll come and Sup with her, she can shew you three or four Couple of the chocest Strum­pets (Ladies she calls 'em) about the Town. You see, Sir, how naturally all these Beasts of Prey hunt a Country Squire, and if they can once blow him a little that he becomes obnoxious to the Herd, they seldom lose the Scent till they have set him up (as you Phrase it) brought him to a Bay, and then they soon pull him down and mangle him as they will▪ but here we'll leave him, and take Breath till the next Post.

LETTER VIII.

WELL, Sir, to go on where I left off; If you can pass these Pikes, and come safe off from the Whore, the Sharper, the Bully, and the Bawd, which I hope you will do, by the Assistance of the Cautions I have given you; then you'll be a little at liberty to look about you, and make your Observations. The Stage, I must needs own, was originally (till so many immoral Practices and Irregularities broke in upon it) of admirable use and Design. 'Twas a kind of Looking glass to the Na­tion, where a Man of Sence might form as true a Judgment of the Humours and Inclinations of the Better sort of the King­dom, as in any part of the Town besides; how it has come to lose so much of its Beauty and Ornament in these latter [Page 46] Years, is no great matter to our purpose. If you will come there now, you must take it as Men do their Wives, For Better, or Worse; 'tis already in a state of De­clension, and for my part, I am not so much a Friend to the Mob, or the Phana­ticks either, to give my Vote for its ut­ter Extirpation. To go on then, if it be a New Play, the House is commonly very full, especially if the Author be a new One too; upon such occasions, every body that has any Inclination for the Play-house, is willing to gratify his Itch with a No­velty.

Tho' indeed I must confess, when I look into the Plays that were writ for­merly, and compare them with the gene­rality that have been writ here a late, in my poor Judgment, the Plots and Chara­cters, and (what's more strange) the Stile too, is grown so profoundly dull and flat, that a Man must have a very good Appe­tite, that can digest such intolerable trash, without a Surfeit. Well, let it be what it will, provided it be stampt with a New Name, and a strange Title, it certainly raises the Mob, calls together the Whores and Bawds, the Squires, Beaus, Cits, Bullies, &c. that come all crowding in shoals, to hear what this wondrous New Man can say, or do, to please 'em. The third Day, [Page 47] if by the help of a good Prologue and Epi­logue, good Acting, good Dancing, and Singing, good Scenes, and the like, the Sickly half-got Brat can be kept alive so long, is commonly the grand Day; then you may observe the general Humours of the House. In one part of it you'll see the Judges, and the Wits, with abun­dance of Hangers-on, and Interlopers, cen­suring and mistaking the Scene, if there be any, for the Non-sence; 'tis ten to one, if there be any Part above the rest, but some of these pretending Goxcombs un­luckily pitch upon that, for their Subject to laugh at: the Reason of this is very plain, perhaps they may know a little of the Merry Andrew Parts, the dull Jokes and Drolls, which at best are but the Rubbidge and Lumber of the Play; but for the Flights and Extasies, and the shining Parts of it, those are utterly out of their Element; and so consequently they are forc'd to damn and censure 'em in course, because they don't understand 'em; the poor Poet must be confounded and maul'd, and, what's worse, if there be e're a Phanatick that sets up for a Judge, if there's but a few accidental Ex­pressions, that don't exactly square with his Opinion, and Inclination, the whole Play, upon the score of one single Chara­cter [Page 48] or Paragraph, must be esteem'd a Satyr against the Government, and have an Embargo laid upon it, and the poor Au­thor be doom'd as an Enemy to the Pub­lick, to be taken into Custody, and whipt, &c. This, within the compass of my own Knowledge, has been the Fate of some of 'em; and indeed I have known One of the best Tragedies that ever was writ, stopt upon such a Peque. In another part of the House sit the Poet's Friends, which are resolv'd to carry him off, right or wrong; 'tis no matter to them, whether the Play be well or ill done, they're en­gag'd either for Friendship, Interest, or else by a Natural Spirit of Contradiction, to oppose the other Faction; and those you'll observe stradling upon the Seats, hollowing, clapping, and flouncing, and making such an impertinent Clatter and Noise, and using so many insolent and indecent Actions, that I advise you as a Friend, to keep as far from 'em as you can. But, what's worse still, perhaps, in the very nick of all, comes in a drunken Lord, with a Party of Low Country War­riours; or, what's more common, a Coun­try Squire, that has lately taken up the Noble Profession of Scowring and Re­velling; and to shew their Parts and their Courage, raise a Quarrel, and put the [Page 49] whole House into a Hurly-burly; then you'll see fine Work, indeed; the Whores tumbling over the Seats, and the poor Squires and Beaus tumbling after 'em in a horrible fright, and disorder; the whole Pit's in Arms in a Minute, and every Man's Sword drawn, to defend himself; so that if the Uproar be not instantly supprest, 'tis great odds but there's some body mur­der'd. These Insurrections, I confess, don't often happen, and 'tis well they do not; for if they shou'd, they might ev'n play by themselves: for, who but a mad Man would run the risque of being stab'd, or trode to Death, to gratify himself with an empty, insignificant Curiosity? And, in­deed, most of our Novel Farces have little else, but barely that to recommend 'em.

But, Sir, if after all you will still go to the Play-house (which I hope will be very seldom, never when you have any Business of moment to divert you, or call you off other ways) why then, if you'll take a few short Instructions along with you, I'm confident, if they do you no good, they can do you no harm, at worst you will esteem 'em (I presume) a well in­tended Impertinence, and that's the most pardonable Errour of any thing of that kind. Well then, upon the former Pro­viso, that you have two or three loose [Page 50] hours that are intirely upon your Hands, and you're resolv'd to make use of the Play, to fill up the idle Intervals; your best way is to fix your self in some advantageous part of the Pit, where with the least Di­sturbance, and Interruption, you may not only observe the Actions and Behaviour of the Actors, but likewise hear every In­dividual Part distinctly, by which means you may be able to understand the Plot and Design of the Play, and to judge of the several Characters, and what they drive at; for unless you do this, the best Play that ever was writ, can seem nothing else but an empty Dim of Words, and a jumble of things stuck together, without any manner of Order. 'Tis true, the greatest part of those that frequent the Play-house, come thither upon a quite dif­ferent Errand; perhaps to see the Passio­nate Love, or Hate of some great Queen or Lady, represented; the Destruction of some Prince, or a Hero; or the Rape of a Virgin; or, what's more usual, to hear the Singing, and see the Dancing, to ob­serve some of the little Drolling Humours and Scenes, and fine Cloaths of the Players: But, Sir, I hope you wou'd not herd your self among such a Mob as these? If this be all you propose to your Self from the Stage, you may ev'n save your Mony, [Page 51] and march to Lincolns-Inn Fields, where a Mo [...]ntebank and his Andrew, will divert you as well. No, no, Sir, the true De­sign of the Stage, is utterly forreign to this; i. e. to expose and detect Rebellion and Faction, and Vice in general; and to exalt and commend Loyalty, Honour and Vertue; and truly, there's hardly any Play (if you take it right) that's acted at either of the Houses in London, but makes some kind of advances towards one of these Ends. 'Tis true, Players like the Mony of a Fool, as well as they do of a Man of Sence, and in some measure are as will­ing to please him with their Trifles and Bables▪ as Divert and Instruct the other with their Encomiums, and Satyrs; tho' by the way, I must tell 'em, they had best take care that by their Farces and Drols, and their Jack Pudding tricks, they don't at last pull their Houses upon their Heads; but it seems they're above Advice, and so I won't go out of my Road, to trouble my Head with 'em; 'tis well there's more Fools than Men of Sence, that are their Customers; if there were not, for all their Huffing, their Shares might be soon drawn into a narrow compass. Well, Sir, to have done with them, and the Subject too, if you please to observe what I have told you; with this One thing more, i. e. [Page 52] never to Imbark your self upon any Pre­tence, or Account whatsoever, in any of the Quarrels, Humours, Intrigues, or Fa­ctions of the Stage, you may then pass away an hour or two at the Play-house, once in a Month, but no oftner, without any great matter of Hazard, and with some kind of Advantage.

LETTER IX.

TENNIS is one of the most Manly and Active Diversions we have in England; and heretofore was hardly used by any but the Young Nobility, and Gen­tlemen of the Chief Rank: King Charles the Second, was a great Master and Judge of it, and would very often divert himself with a Set or two in the Royal Court at the Cock-pit, with a great deal of Satisfaction.

This is a Game that depends purely upon Skill and Activity, and not to be ac­quired without considerable Expence, and Practice; upon which Account indeed it has had the Advantage of most of the rest, and abundance of Sharpers and Cheats have been kept out of it, for want of Mony to pay the Charge of the Court, and other Expences that are consequent to it. But this, however harmless and inoffensive it was in its Original and Design, has of [Page 54] late incurred the same fate with most of the Diversions of that Nature, and is strangely degenerated from a Noble and Genteel Exercise, into a perfect Trade for Rooks and Sharpers, who perceiving it would necessarily be a good Foundation for 'em to get a base Livelyhood by, have cunningly twisted themselves into the Knowledge and Perfection of it. As to the Game it self, a Person that has never seen it before can make but little on't, ex­cept it be any Curiosity or Diversion to him to see three or four Persons furiously run­ning after a few little Balls, and laboriously bandying and tossing them about from one to another; if this were all 'twere well enough, but then when he hears the Mar­ker calling Forty, Love, and a Chace, and sees them changing their Sides, and hears the Players wrangling and swearing about the taking of Bisks and Faults, and talk­ing of Cuts and Twists, and Forces, &c. he presently concludes there must be some wonderful Secret in all this▪ and so is re­solved to satisfie himself a little further. If he gets into the Dan, among the Gentry that come there to bet, and has the mis­fortune to ask any Questions, or declare his Ignorance, they presently give out the Word, That here's a Squire come; and then two or three of the sharpest of the [Page 55] Gang, come up with him presently, in order to give him some little Insight, and Directions into the Game, that they may prepare him against an Opportunity to take him in; here they tell him, 'tis all even and odd, a perfect Lottery, and that he may venture his Mony on either side, for 'tis all equal; and so indeed, in some Sets it is: For the Noblemen and Gentlemen, that are acquainted with the Game, and play it upon the square, and more for the Reputation of good Gamesters, than for Interest, commonly make their Matches so very nicely, that the best Sharper and Judge among 'em can hardly (before the Set's begun) tell which way to bet his Mo­ney; here, perhaps, he wins half a Piece, or a Guinea, which inclines him to believe that this must needs be a very Fair Game, that a Stranger can get Mony at it at first Sight; and truly, as long as this Match lasts, he's in no great danger; but then against this is over, there's another Set ready to step into the Court, that will be sure to do his Business. The Managers tell him 'tis all equal now too; that Squire A. is a good Striker-out, but Squire B. is a better Back-hand; that Mr. O. judges a Ball finely, but then Mr. D. plays for a Chace much better than he; so that upon the whole, they conclude it a very good Match, [Page 56] and that he'll see these Gentlemen will make better Play than the former; here they offer him his Choice, or to throw Cross and Pile, which side he'll take; if he complys, and they have taken him in as far as the thing will conveniently bear at once, then the Sign is made to the Players, that they may manage their parts; when this Set is over, which is commonly play'd with as much seeming Eagerness and Fury, and withal with the greatest Equality that can be; why then, with some little Sham-quarrels, and wranglings about adjusting the Odds, &c. they agree upon another: Here they Attack the Stranger again; Come, Sir, you had the mis­fortune to be on the wrong side last time, tho' 'twas a very hard Match, and no body could tell who had the best of it, till the very Advantage-game; take your choice, we don't covet to carry off your Money. And so they draw him on from one set to ano­ther, and from little Bets to great Ones (till they have stuck him, as they call it) and then, to keep up to their own Dialect, they seldom part with him, till they have sent him away sweet and clean. I was a tolerable Master of this Game my self, I studied it at Oxford, together with my Logicks, and Ethicks; and at last was arrived to that Perfection, that but few [Page 57] Scholars in the Town durst encounter with me upon equal terms (I wish I could have said the same with respect to the other) but for all my mighty parts in the University, when I came to London, I soon found my Insufficiency; and that I must be new Documentized before I must pre­tend to set up for my self: they would now and then take me in with them, to keep a Back-hand, which was my Master-piece; but truly, I had soon enough of my Back-hand business: In short, I perceived they only made a Property of me, as they do of all Strangers, and so I knockt off in time; besides I quickly grew acquainted with their Humours and Tricks, and saw that there was but few Matches made, but there was either a Bribed Marker, or some Gentl'eman that had first lost his Estate, and then his Ho­nour, and so was forc'd to comply with the Sharpings and Tricks of the Town, to get his Bread; or some Scoundrel that never had an Estate or Honour either, but had acquired the Game by a diligent At­tendance upon the Courts, crowded in among them, and that there was hardly a Set play'd, but there was some sort of Falshood and Deceit practic'd; I wisely disposed of my Raquets, and Inclination together, and left them to manage their [Page 58] Matters by themselves. But supposing for once that the Game was, as they'd have the World believe, square and equal, yet one of these Sparks that make it their Trade to hunt about from Court to Court have such a vast Advantage of a Stranger that knows nothing of the Business, that 'tis morally im­possible but they must get his Money and im­pose upon him at last.

There are several in Town that live purely upon the Tennis-Courts (and live well too) if such a way of Living may be call'd living well, but then they have such a perfect Idea and Notion of a Set, and so many Mysterious Methods to turn and wind their Bets, and to bring themselves off when they have the worst, that a Person must have a natural Sharp­ness of Temper and Genius, back'd with a long Practice and Experience, before he can be a tolerable Master of the Faculty. But after all, if a Man could escape all their Tricks and Stratagems, which is almost impossible for a Stranger if he en­gages with them; what Business, I won­der, has a Country Gentleman at a Tennis-Court? Why, truly none as I know of, un­less it be to expose himself, if not to the Cheats, at least to the Laughter and Ridicule of a Company of lazy, sharping Companions. Well Sir, if you should [Page 59] chance to fall in among 'em, take this along with you, that they'll cheat you if they can; if they can't draw you in to bet with 'em there, they'll attempt the enticing you into a Tavern or Gaming-Ordinary, or rather than fail, into a Bawdy-house; they have twenty little Arts which they make use of, and abundance of Baits to throw before a Stranger, and if he stoops for any of 'em, they'll be sure to find out some means or other to make him pay dear for his Enstalment into into his new Society. Indeed, for the No­blemen and Gentlemen that love the Game, and only use it for a Breathing, that play a set or two, once in a Week, to divert and and recreate themselves, they are above any base Action, and if you could fall in with them, (though I think the thing is scarce worth your Trouble) as there is no good, so there would be no great matter of harm in't.

LETTER X.

BOwling is a Game for Diversion, Re­creation and Exercise, as well as Tennis, and was formerly a Game for few but Gentlemen, as that was; but as Men and Things are generally grown worse and worse, so is this too, and strangely degenerated from an innocent, inoffensive Diversion to be a perfect Trade, a kind of set Calling and Occupation for Cheats and Sharpers. The Number of Bowling. Greens that we have in and near this Town are unaccountable, and the Num­ber of Bowlers, Betters and Rooks that depend upon 'em, and live by 'em, almost miraculous; How they all live I know not, but that they do live, get Money, and spend high, is most certain. Well, but I'll shew you some part of their Art, and leave you to judge of the rest your self. If you please therefore we'll make a short Trip to Marybone (for that's the chief place of Rendezvouz) the Bowling-Greens there [Page 61] having in these latter Years gain'd a kind of Preheminence and Reputation above the rest, and thither most of the Noblemen and Gentlemen about the Town, that affect that sort of Recreation, generally resort; I have seen a hundred at a time at least following one Block, and the greatest part of 'em, five to one, I'm confident, Rooks and Sharpers. When a Match is made which they are commonly very nice in, but not so nice neither but a subtle, old Better knows presently where the Odds lies; then the Sport begins, here you'll hear five, ten, twenty Pieces offer'd the Leader against the Follower, or the Fol­lower against the Leader sometimes upon the main End; and very often you'll see five or ten Pound betted upon a Single Bowl; they bet nothing but Gold here so that a man must have a good Stock that pre­tends to embark with 'em. But the Secret and Mystery of all is, how one of these profest Betters manage the Point; let the Game go for them or against them, 'tis some odds, but they turn a Pen­ny, or at least bring themselves off Savers at the winding up. I have heard one of them say, tho' he lost five Pieces by the Bargain, yet by his cunning Contrivances and hedging, and his taking and laying the Odds (which is the chiefest part in [Page 62] the Betting) he should be three Pound Gainer in the Main. But, Sir, this is an Art that is not learnt on a sudden; and truly, 'tis much below a Gentleman, un­less he has some Notions of losing his Estate first, and being reduced aftewards to the Extremity of turning Rook for a Livelihood, to perplex himself about it. Marybone, as I told you, is the chief Place about Town, but for all its greatness and preheminence, it lies under shrewd su­spicions of being guilty of sharping and crimping, as well as the rest. Indeed, I believe the Noblemen and Gentleman, are above any thing so exaltedly Base and Sordid; but for the Interlopers, I'm a little jealous when they find ther's a con­venient Green, a great many Citizens, Fools, and Strangers, that they have al­ways a Match or two lying by them, to divert such kind of Adventurers. I have observ'd my self very unequal Deal­ing among them; and withal I must own was something surprized and dissatisfy'd, to see so many Gentlemen, if not con­cerned, at least winking and conniving at it. Well, Sir, in short, I'm very certain, 'twill be your best way never to come there at all, and then you'll be both out of the Danger, and the Temptation too; for unless you are so much a Master [Page 63] of your self, as I know some are, only to divert your self with walking about, and observing the Humours of the Company, you'll be in great hazard to be seduc'd into some sort of Gaming, which you may per­haps have cause to repent as long as you live. There you may be equipt with Gaming of all sorts; if you are for the fa­mous Game with two Dice, properly di­stinguisht by the memorable title of Ha­zard; there the Groom Porter has a Gentle­man in ordinary, constantly in waiting: If you're for Back Gammon, Trick Track, Picket, Cribidge, or for an honest upright Game at Whisk, there's Chapmen enough for you: But, by the way, I'd have you take care of them, for 'tis ten to one, if they can once bring you down (as they express it) if they suffer you to rise again, without making a Penny of you. But, Sir. I would not keep you too long here neither, if you'll give your self the trouble to take a Turn with me to a Bowling-Green or two on the other Side of the Water, there you'll meet with both Bowlers and Bet­ters, that are very well worth your Ob­servation. A Gang of such unaccounta­ble Creatures mix'd and jumbl'd together, and such a strange and horrid Din of Blas­phemy and Swearing (too common in­deed in most of these kind of Assemblies) [Page 64] that I know not where to begin my dis­mal Account of 'em. Well Sir, to have done with them as fast as I can, their com­mon Way of Proceeding is this, there are generally five or six that ply at one of these Greens, that are look'd upon to be the Cocks or Chief Bowlers, and these always keep together, unless they can draw in a Younker to make a Property of. Their Way of making their Matches is by draw­ing the Dice as in most other Greens, and the Method is well enough where the Game­sters are equal, but that's but a blind nei­ther which they have to impose upon the Persons that are Strangers, and don't un­derstand the Cheat; for let the Dice fall which way they will, their Friends and Allies, the Betters, must give the Sign which Side must win, and each of these has always his Familiar or two near him to direct him whether he should bowl on or off, and for Six pence Advantage they'll do either: Sometimes it happens that they are forc'd to take in a Stranger for want of a fourth Man to make up their Set, and then things are not quite so well for their purpose; however to make the Matter as secure as they can, they all three bowl against him, and none more earnestly than his own Partner; he must lead in Course and then if he puts in a good Cast [Page 65] and leaves him best at the Block, if the Game be in any Danger, he'll be sure to be two or three turns over, and either rest him off, or strike up the Adversary; and to blind the Stranger, will impudently pretend to justifie the thing, notwith­standing the Miscarriage, to be the judge­ment of the Game; and if he could have struck the other out, which he never de­signed, they had been up. In short, they manage the matter so, that unless the Stranger be able to beat them all three, he must necessarily lose his Mony, and yet they carry on the Game so equally, and with so much seeming Fairness and Policy, that 'tis almost impossible (unless a Man has some Idea and Notion of the Persons before-hand) to find them out.

If they get a Stranger to engage with them Hand to Hand, let him be never so exact and judicious a Bowler, they'll find out some means or other to cheat him out of his Game. Sometimes they'll be crossing the Ground upon him; others will be Bawling to him just upon the de­livery of his Bowl, and teizing and con­founding him with impertinent Advice, to make him forget his Lengths; and per­haps, one of the Gang will pretend to be betted on his side, and so amuse him with [Page 66] giving him false Ground; or if none of these or such like tricks will do, why then just as he's acquainted with the Run­ning and Byasses of his Bowls, there's a Gentleman come they pretend that owns them, and must have them, but they'll give him another Pair, that are of the same size and weight, and in all respects as good, but only 'tis the Gentleman's Humour to Bowl with no other; and these, perhaps, are either Back-byast, or pegg'd, or loaded, or have some other trick used to them, that 'tis impossible to come dear the Mark with them Sir, I could discover abun­dance of their little Rascally Cheats to you; but 'tis neither worth your time to read them, nor mine to write them; you see in the main, what a villanous Gang these are, and how careful a Gentleman ought to be how he ventures himself among them; for besides these cheats and tricks upon the Green, they have abundance of other dangerous Villanies consequent to them: they have their Whores, and Set­ters, their Thieves, and their Pick-pockets; their false Dice and Cards, and almost all other Engines for Mischief, ready upon occasion. Indeed, even in the worst of these places, there is a great many Honest Gentlemen come daily to Bowl; [Page 67] but what then? I can't see the necessity for a Gentleman to run a Risque where there's no occasion; if he will divert himself with a Game at Bowls now and then, there's places enough about London, where he may meet with Sober and Genteel Company, may pass an hour or two, with­out being grated and tormented with the hideous noise of Cursing and Swearing. The Game is a very innocent and healthful Recreation in it self, and I think one of the best Diversions we have about Town (provided a Man has nothing to do) to pass away a Summer's Evening. I hope you will not mistake me in this, nor in any of the rest; I am not entirely ad­vising you against the Play house, Tennis Court, or Bowling Green, or any other in­nocent and harmless Recreation. I know some Divertisement is so necessary, both for the Body and Mind of a Man, that 'tis hardly possible for either of 'em, to be at Ease without it: but that which I would reprehend, is the Excess and the Inordinacy of them; the making that a set and for­mal Business and Trade, which should be only used as a Diversion, and to fill up the idle Intervals; and withal to discover to you the ill uses that are made of 'em, and the Dangers and Hazards they expose [Page 68] a Man to, if he once suffers them to usurp his time, and get the Mastership over him; this is solely my Design, and truly I cannot suspect that my sincere En­deavours in this point should meet with any false Construction.

LETTER XI.

SIR, having shew'd you in my for­mer, how some of our Town Gentry spend their Day, and given you some Cautionary hints of some of their Bare­fac'd Cheats and Tricks, that are trans­acted in the sight of the Sun; I shall now carry you a little further, and shew you a few of their Works of Darkness; and how their Nights as well as their Days, are sadly consumed and play'd away, in a dan­gerous repetition of Gaming and Vice; and accordingly, if you please, we'll first make a short step to the Groom Porter's.

The Groom Porter's has been always looked upon as the most Reputable and Convenient Place in Town, for a Gentle­man to venture into, that has a mind to try whether his good Fortune will suffer him to keep his Estate himself, or force him [Page 70] to commit it into the Hands of some body else to do it for him. There is whole-sale Business, I can assure you▪ several thousand Pounds bartered for most nights, so that if Fortune should play the Jilt, as she often does in such Cases, you may be readily unsquired in two or three hours; nay, if you will in two or three Hands. The ordinary Game they play at there, is Hazard, and Hazard indeed it is, and a very great one too, if you go in among 'em with two or three hundred Pieces in your Pocket, whether you bring e're a one out with you again. I have known an Honest Gentleman come thither in a new Coach, with a pair of very fine Horses, that hath found it so hazardous, that in a Night or two afterwards, he has been forc'd to hazard it Home in a Hackney. But they say, All things there are very square, and honest, good Wine, good Attendance, good Company, and all other suitable Conveniencies to accom­modate a Gentleman, whilst he's com­fortably playing away his Estate. All this may be, 'tis true, and it may not be too; for by the way, I have seen a Spark, by the help of good Fingers, and a little Dexterity of Hand, manage their Mathe­maticks something quirely upon occasion. Well, but we must not dive too far into [Page 71] their Secrets neither, they'd grow angry perhaps, if we shou'd, and I would not incur their Displeasure upon any Account: and yet I hope, Sir, I may give you a little short Advice, as a Friend, without being very offensive to any of 'em; 'tis only, That you never come within their Reach upon any Account, or Pretence what ever; 'tis a dangerous infectious Place for a young Gentleman but to put his Head into; and many a One by ven­turing a little too far, has caught such a Contagion at once, that has made him droop a great while, and at last carried him clear off. The old Proverb says, Forewarn'd Fore-arm'd; and truly 'tis as good as any in the whole Catalogue. If a Man will plunge himself into Ruine, and squander away his Estate, and reduce himself to the wretched Condition to be forc'd to sneak after every little Coxcomb for a Supper, or for a Crown to buy him a pair of Shooes, as I know several Gen­tlemen of good Families, and who have had good Estates too, till they wisely con­sumed them in the study of these sorts of Mathematicks, at this time are; let him ev'n take it for his pains. But the Circumstan­ces in their own Nature, are beyond Ag­gravation, and so I'll leave them, and go and see what they're doing at the Ordinaries.

[Page 72] The Ordinaries are a kind of aming-houses, Inferiour and Subservien G to the Groom Porter's, and are either managed by one of his Domesticks, or else tolera­ted and allowed, by his particular License and Deputation; as most of the other Games are; the Lotteries only excepted, that, I think, are included in the Royal-Oak Patent. These Ordinaries are a Re­ceptacle for all sorts of Gamesters, and are indeed very convenient Nurseries, to drag up Youngsters, and to qualifie them against their Estates come into their Hands, to play them decently away at the Groom Porter's: How such kind of Se­minaries as these come to be suffered, I know not; but this I know, 'tis a shame, and a disgrace to the Kingdom, that there is not some Regulation or Stop put to 'em. These Gentlemen pretend to be much up­on the Mathematicks too; and, that all things are carried extraordinary fairly and squarely among them, as well as at the Groom Porter's; but, by their Leave, I have seen their Mathematical Flats, and Bar's; nay (for a need) Mathematical Fullams too; and abundance that will run Mathematically high or low: these are a sort of false Dice, that are cut and stain'd so exactly like the true, and withal mark'd with the same Mark, that 'tis morally im­possible [Page 73] for a Stranger, that does not su­spect the Cheat, to discover it; and these the Box-Keeper has commonly in a Readi­ness, when he has the Sign given him, to put in; or if he has them not of his own, there's those about him that never go without them. When they have got a Gentleman, which they design to rook in among 'em; whilst some are sharping him out of his Mony within, others are tamper­ing with his Servants without, to find out the strength and manner of his Estate and Circumstances, and where he lodges, and what Friends and Acquaintance he has in Town; and if they find that his Effects will answer, and that he's a Person that may be ventur'd upon; as soon as they perceive he has lost all his Stock, then one of the Gang, that's constantly watch­ing there for such Opportunities, takes him aside; Sir, says he, I believe you're a very honest Gentleman; I am very sorry to see you have lost your Mony, and would not have a Civil Man by any means exposed, and there­fore, if you please, I have five or ten Pieces at your Service: If he'll accept of the Fa­vour, then he tells him, the Custom in such Cases, as well here as at the Groom Porter's, is to take nine for ten, and to allow him a Call upon a good Hand. When this is lost too (as it always is in a little [Page 74] time) then they conclude he's fixt; and so the Gentleman that has done him the Favour to cheat him of his Mony, will needs (under pretence of a great deal of formal Civility) invite him to the Ta­vern, to take a Glass, and eat the Wing of a Fowl with him: When they have decoy'd him thither, the Person that did him the extraordinary Friendship to lend him the ten Pieces, must be instantly sent for too, who in the Interim has made up a new Purse, and is very ready to Credit him with the other ten, till to Mor­row Morning, if he has a mind to try his Luck; but he wo'nt advise him. Here the Box and Dice must be called for, and the honest Drawer, that knows his Duty in such Cases, brings in the Box with a pair of their own Dice, which they have con­vey'd into his Hand in the Interim, &c. And now there's no room for Suspicion, but every thing is carried with the greatest Frankness and Indifferency; and so at it they go, till the other ten Pieces are gone after the rest, and what must be done then? This Worthy Friend has no more Mony about him; if he had, he might command it: And truly he thinks since they have won the Gentleman's ready Mony, that they can do no less than give him a Cast or two upon Honour; with a [Page 75] great deal of seeming Uneasiness, and per­haps a thousand perfidious Oaths and Exe­crations, that they never did the like be­fore, and upon Condition too, that the Gentleman will give his Note to pay it to Morrow Morning, if he should happen to lose any thing, this is comply'd with: And here begins the fatal Catastrophe; if they think that he has too much regard for his Reputation, or too much Modesty to make use of the Statute for his De­fence, or perhaps (what's more prevalent with him than either) will be unwilling that the Town should know he has been a Bubble, then they stick him in earnest, so deep, it may be, that he must be forc'd to cut off a Limb of his Estate to get out of their Clutches. Sir, we have too many sad Instances every Day in View, to con­vince you of the truth of this, without enlarging upon it; so that, I hope, from this hasty Caution I have given you, you'll have enough of these kind of Ordi­naries; however, for your better Satis­faction, we'll step thither again, and see what the rest of 'em are doing in the other parts of the House: Why, there are some playing at Back Gammon, some at Trick Track, some at Picket, some at Cribidge, and, perhaps, at a By-table in a Corner, four or five harmless Fellows at Put, and [Page 76] All-foures; here's no Respect of Per­sons, here come Apprentices, Journeymen, Footmen, Coblers, or any body, pro­vided they bring Mony in their Pockets, and come either to cheat, or to be cheated, Pro hac vice, they have as extensive a Qualification to Swear, Blaspheme, and Hector, as the most Renowned Sharper in the whole Gang. That each of these in his respective Station is a Cheat, I sup­pose, you'll take for granted; you may as well be cheated at Cards, as at Dice, and at Back Gammon and Trick Track, as at Hazard; the false Dice and Slights of Hand will serve for One, as well as the other; there's no difference, as I know of, but only the former is a little longer a­bout the Business. But besides all this, if a Man could be secure to guard Him­self against their false Dice, and Slights of Hand, and was equal with 'em too in point of Judgment and Experience, what business has a Country Gentleman, or in­deed any Body else, to venture Himself among such a rude Herd of wild Crea­tures? Well, I'm ashamed to think that any Gentleman should sink himself so much below a Rational Creature, to be guilty of such Unaccountable Folly; I must own I utterly lose my Pitty, when [Page 77] I see one of these Wretches shirking about in Rags (as there's enough of 'em about Town) that are Living Monuments of their own Vicious Indiscretion; let 'em ev'n keep their Rags, their Poverty and Contempt, for me.

And truly I could almost wish every one in their Condition, that does not take warning from 'em, but will violently plunge himself into the same Misfortune.

LETTER XII.

I must own, Sir, I broke off from my Relation of the Ordinaries something abruptly: Indeed the Prospect it self was so dismal and odious, and the Accounts of the Men and Things that belong to 'em so troublesome and ungrateful, that I was forc'd to leave 'em in an Af­fright and in Haste. A Sober Man cannot look into 'em without Astonishment. I lose both my Reason and my Charity when I think of 'em; but then how shall I do to contain my self whilst I give you a Description of the Lotteries, which in all Respects are as bad, and in some Measure a great deal worse than they?

And First, for the Royal-Oak Lottery, 'tis a Game indeed that is stamp'd with a Noble Name and Superscription, but how [Page 79] well it answers that Honourable Title, I leave you and all the World to judge. 'Tis pity, methinks, that such a glorious Character, a Royal-Oak, which deriv'd its Name from being a Shelter and a Safe­guard to Distress'd Majesty, should be base­ly subverted and changed to serve the Ends and propagate the Interest of a Scurvy Game, a Game that (if the Common Pro­verb be true, which the Town passes upon it; and indeed I'm inclin'd to believe it is) has Ruin'd more than the Fire of London; How it was brought out of France, and how it came to be Establish'd by a Royal Authority in England, is nothing to my Purpose; 'tis here, it seems, and here it has been a great many Years, the Managers have got Estates, and the Fools that have us'd it have lost theirs; but all this is still foreign to my Matter, my Design is on­ly by Way of Caution to give you a short Account of the Practices and the Ways and Means that they commonly use to raise Money from the Publick. And this I shall do with the utmost Brevity and Can­dour I am able. It would be too long to trouble you with the whole Contrivance of the Game, and the several Odds and secret Advantages which the Managers have above what they pretend to, or perhaps what they know, and indeed I [Page 80] much question whether the original Pro­jector himself had a perfect Knowledge of all the consequent Profits of it. In short, 'tis a cunning, intricate Contexture, and has so fair and so enticing an Aspect, that many an honest Gentleman and Citizen has been seduc'd by it, to the Loss of their whole Estates and Ruin of their Families.

The Odds which they say they have, is only two and thirty Chances against seven and twenty, which they pretend were al­low'd 'em to discharge the Annual Rents they are obliged by their Patent to pay to the King, and to discharge the Ordinary Expences of their Houses, Servants and Officers. Well, for once, we'll suppose that their Advantage is no more than this, who, I wonder, but a Madman, would go to play away his Money upon such a manifest Inequality? Your Old Gamesters all allow it as a General Rule at Back-Gammon, that, however a Youn­ker, by Extremity of Luck, and Dint of Throwing may now and then get a Set or two of 'em, yet if they continue the Match they'll in the End be sure to have all the Cargo; 'tis the very same in the other Respect, and several Persons do very of­ten win Money of 'em and carry it off, and so 'tis necessary they should, for o­therways the Worthy Constitution must [Page 81] dissolve in Course; and indeed this is the main thing that draws in People to pur­sue it; but this is but a perfect Bait, the next time they come, 'tis odds but they not only lose their Interest but their Prin­cipal too. I think there was an honest Gentleman, one that got some Money of 'em, and kept it too, but then he was forc'd to have a Mathematical Ball made on purpose, and truly if he had made no worse use of his Mathematical Dice than he did of his Mathematical Ball, I should not be very much out of Conceit with his Mathematicks. This Game has got a wonderful repute lately among the La­dies, especially among the Citizens Ladies, who, they say, that they might not lose time, do commonly two Businesses there at once, i. e. first, make their Husbands Cuckolds, and then Beggars; whether they do the first or not, I will not be positive, tho, by the way, considering what company they meet there, there's shrewd Grounds for Suspicion; but for the latter they do it effectually. I have seen, my self, an or­dinary Citizen's Wife lose her Seven or Eight Pieces in a Morning, and at the same time swear solemnly she has had the same bad Fortune for a Month together successively. How such Citizens Ladies, and indeed all other Ladies that frequent [Page 82] such sort of Diversions ought to be ma­naged, I think lies pretty ready, we have Mad-houses about Town, and thi­ther I'd have 'em all sent and kept under a strict Diet and Discipline, till they had either absolutely forgot or solemnly for­sworn the Folly; and after that if they should relapse, let 'em be commited to the Tuition of a Gentleman in a Blew Coat, and let him try if he can Whip it out of 'em. What it is that bewitches both Men, Women, and even Children, to follow this unhappy Game, I cannot guess; 'tis true, 'tis recommended to 'em under the false pretence and Coverture of a great deal of Equality and Advantage; but then if they would but turn themseves a­bout and look backwards a little, they must needs see their Mistake with a Witness. I can produce hundreds that have lost their Estates, and been ruin'd by it; but let them bring but one single Person that has pursu'd this Game for any conside­rable time, that will own, or rather prove that he's a Winner in the main, and I'll give up the Argument, and grant that what­ever I, or any body else can say against it, is utterly false, and groundless. I know, Sir, this cannot be done, and 'tis Nonsence, and a Contradiction to ima­gine it; but still I am the more at a loss [Page 83] to find out what it can be that seduces the World to follow it on, notwith­standing the Strong, and Repeated Con­viction of the Disadvantage and Ruine that attends it. Nay, what's more admi­rable still, that Men of Sence should be catcht. I have known several that in most other things would have past Muster well enough; by their Foolish Projects, and false Assurances, which they had form'd to themselves, how to win Mony at this delusive Game, have rambled from one Notion to another, and try'd so many Experiments, that they have projected themselves out of all that they have, and are forc'd now to hang upon it, to try if they can pick up a Shilling now and then, at the best of the Ley, or get a Mug of Ale, or the Dregs of a Bottle of Wine a­mongst 'em.

Well then, Sir, not to trouble you with too many of these kind of Reflections; there were always Fools, and always will be; let a Man say what he will, there are some People so bigotted to their Folly, and so fond of their own way, that they will not be put out of it, though they know it leads 'em directly to Ruine and Destruction. I hope you will not fall un­der this Character; you see the Rock, and if you will voluntarily run upon it, and [Page 84] dash your self to pieces, I have, however, discharg'd the Office of a Friend, in shew­ing you where it lies▪ and can do no more, except it be to lament a Misfortune, I could not prevent.

But now I think on't, I won't part with these Gentlemen, without taking my Leave of 'em neither; there are still some memo­rable Qualifications amongst 'em, that I'm confident ought not to be past by, with­out some sort of Ceremony. And first: These Gentlemen keep an open Table; that's true enough, and a Person that has twenty or thirty pound in his Pocket to lose with 'em at Night, may dine with 'em at any time; but withal I have seen a poor Gentleman that has lost some thou­sands with 'em formerly, basely and dis­gracefully thrust out of Doors, for but calling for a Glass of their Brandy: nay, and they pretend to be very charitable to the Poor too; Secret Charity, I confess, is the most meritorious, and I suppose, that's the way they communicate theirs, for I never heard of any that they did in publick.

But then, what kind of Poor are they, as they are thus beneficial to? Why, doubt­less, they must be the Poor of their own Making; and, by the by, if they were forc'd to provide for their own poor, as all other Honest Corporations are, they'd [Page 85] be soon compell'd to quit their Country-Houses, and return to their respective Employments to get their Livelihoods, as well as the rest of their Neighbours. Well, but (they say) they have one point of Civility, which every body must allow to be very extraordinary, i. e. that when they have won a Gentleman's or a Lady's Mony, they'll give 'em Half a Crown, or a Crown for a Coach; that I must needs own to be a very high point of Ci­vility indeed, and who would not after such a Favour, come within a Night or two, and lose thirty or forty Pound more, to make 'em Amends? And this they call a Paratto, or a Parato, you may call it which you will▪ but it seems most Na­tural to me to be a Parato; the English of which is, Prepare thou, that is, Go, and provide more Mony, and come hither again, and play it away; that's the true Intent of the Business, I believe; and this they do too, to a poor Gamester, with so many Curses, and so much Insolence, that none but a Despicable, Mean-spirited Wretch will accept of it from 'em. Well, but, Sir, I must not spend all my Time and my Paper about 'em: In short, I don't think 'em worth it. Besides, I have some other of their Dependants, to make a short Visit to; and therefore, I'll leave them to Re­form [Page 86] and Repent, or, what I rather wish, to be Reform'd, or Abolish'd.

Having done with this Grand Lottery, I suppose you expect I should say some thing in course of all the rest: As for the Mony Lotteries, that are now so much in Vogue in Town, I declare I neither like, nor understand 'em, and therefore will have nothing to do with 'em. If you can get a thousand Pound for a Penny, or ten thousand Pound for twenty Shillings, I will own you have good Luck; but I must tell you, that 'tis ten thousand Pound to a Penny, whether you do or not. I believe a Man might find some matters in the Secrets of their Manage­ments, that might deserve a little Re­flection, as well as the rest; but since they say, and some People believe they have only ten per Cent, for all their ex­pence and Diligence, for my part I won't trouble my self to disprove 'em; e'en let 'em take it, and if they and the World are satisfied, I must own I never had, nor ne­ver will have any cause to complain. But now, for these little Sucking Lotteries, Plate Lotteries, I think they call 'em, they're but poor Soundrel Cheats, that will pass upon none but the Country Fools, and Town Mob. A few Bables, some false Dice, and a little Sham-plate behind [Page 87] a Glass, sets up one of them; besides, they are only Feuditaries to the former, and derive their Priviledge from their Depu­tation. Indeed, a Man may, if he will, go to one of them, and throw away four or five Pound, to get a Nutmeg-grater, or a Tobacco-stopple, for a Curiosity; as I know those that have at a Bartholomew Fair; but then I think Merry Andrew ought to be made acquainted with it, 'twill serve him for a good Subject to di­vert the Rabble with. Indeed, there is a late Invented Lottery, where there's no­thing to be won but Mony, nor that nei­ther, that deserves a short Observation. This, it seems, is to be managed with ten Dice; and truly the Projecters have so carefully settled their Prices, that none of those that are considerable, are reconci­leable with the Numbers upon the Dice; a Man may in the hazard of thirty or forty Shillings get a Hit of Half a Crown, or so; but unless he has got the Art to reconcile Impossibilities, he can never come at any of their twenty or thirty Pounds, which they pretend to In short, all these are but Down-right Cheats, and Devices, to deceive Ignorant People out of their Mony; and many a child has been tem­pted to rob his Parents, and Apprentice his Master, upon the Account of 'em: I [Page 88] must confess, I think they are so much be­low a Gentleman, that he needs not be caution'd against 'em; they are not only exaltedly Foolish, and Ridiculous, but Scandalous too, and certainly, under those two Qualifications, a Man must be either a perfect Madman, or an Idiot, that will concern himself with 'em; a Man may indeed by such inconsiderate Actions as these, expose himself to the Laughter and Scorn of the Town; but let him take this along with him, when he has once done it, he'll find it a little difficult to reco­ver the Loss of his Reputation. A Good Name may be lost in the Quest of Bables and Trifles, as well as in the pursuit of deep and deliberate Follies. A Gentle­man may as well squander away his E­state and Reputation at a Nine-pin Yard, and a Shovel-board Table, among Journey­men Shoomakers and Porters, as at the Groom Porter's, amongst Gentlemen and Sharpers; there's no difference that I know of, but only the One does his Business at once, and the other's a little longer about it: They are equally dangerous and dis­graceful, and both infinitely beside the Pra­ctice and Character of a Gentleman.

LETTER XIII.

PERHAPS, Sir, having discovered so many of the Cheats and Tricks of the Town to you already, you may now think it high time to wind up my Ac­count. I can assure you, I have no Va­nity in reporting these Matters, they are as odious and unpleasant for me to write, as they can be for you to read: But still, Sir, I remember my Promise, I told you I'd shew you a little of most of the Follies and Villanies of the Town, which as a Gentleman and a Stranger, you're most in danger to be trapann'd, and impos'd upon by, when you come at it. To pro­ceed then to the rest, for once I'll carry you to a Cock Match; and if you love that Diversion, shew you a Battle or two, that you may see how much our Sparks in London, manage their matters beyond yours in the Country.

[Page 90] Cock-fighting, is an Ancient, Barbarous sort of Diversion, that for many Years has been of high repute, even amongst the Nobility and chief Gentry of Eng­land: 'Tis now indeed in state of De­clension; the Gentlemen, perceiving the constant Charge, Folly, and Inconveni­ence that depended upon it, have in a great measure, wisely laid it down.

And the Sharpers, Rooks, and Scoundrels, together with few some Fools, have taken it up; or else the Cruel Sport, for that's the best Title I can give it (and I think the best it deserves) had been happily worn out, and lost, and there had been an end on't. For my part, I cannot con­ceive where the great Diversion in Cock-fighting lies: the Bear Garden and Cock Fit, are both alike to me; and truly, in my Judgment, they are both Inhuman, and Unnatural, and there's very little Sa­tisfaction in either. But this is nothing to the purpose: It passes under the Notion of a Harmless Recreation among the rest; the Rooks and Sharpers get Mony by it, and therefore we'll go and see a little how they manage their point. Their first Bu­siness is to bribe themselves into Ac­quaintance with the Feeders, and to learn every particular Cock's Marks, Breed, [Page 91] Way of Fighting, &c. When they are thorowly equipt with these, and every thing else, that can possibly give 'em any Advantage in point of Judgment, they make their Bets, but still their Eyes are constantly fixt upon the Cock, that they may observe every Wound and Turn of a Battle; and truly most of your Old Cockers, are so very sharp and quick-sighted in such Cases, that they generally disco­ver the nicest Advantage, and accordingly either take, or lay the Odds, to bring them­selves off; and so far 'tis fair enough, and every Man is to be commended for making the most of his Business; and indeed, 'tis impossible they should use their Talents any further in a fair Match than this comes to, unless it be to swear you out of your Bets, when you have won 'em, and bring some of their Gang to give Judgment against you, as 'tis very common amongst 'em. But all this is little to their Business, and if there was nothing else in it but the Advantage they have in point of Judg­ment, they must be quickly forc'd to find out some new Adventure, or prepare to fight Battles of another Nature. Their Business generally comes on when the Grand Match is over (unless the whole be one of their own making) then, perhaps, they have a By-match or two, to divert [Page 92] the Company at Parting, which may bring in something. Here they set down One of the Sharpest narrow-heel'd [...]st Cocks they have, to One that they know is a perfect Slug; and 'tis ten to one too, to make all things sure, but they crack his Beak, or thrust a Pin into the Roof of his Mouth, or blunt the Points of his Gafles, or cramp him with a Hair about his thigh; for in such cases they'll be sure to make all things safe; but then the force of their Designs depends chiefly up­on the managing point, against their Cock comes to be set down, in order to which one of the more Reputable sort of Sharpers, offers large Bets upon the Cock that is to lose, and withal several Sham-wagers are laid among themselves. This, says he, is a Brother to the Pile that kill'd Squire G—'s Dun; he came from Mr. R—'s Hen, and my Lord—C—'s Duck­wing, that won the Famous Battle at New Market: And, perhaps, may be a Sightly Cock, and a good Cock in Nature. By these, and such like Stratagems, 'tis odds but there is several snapt; and to colour the matter, when the Business is over, they pretend that he receiv'd a Wound in the Body in the Sparring-blows; and if he had not been ac­cidentally disabled, he would have certainly won the Battle, and they'll fight one of [Page 93] the same Brood, with any Cock of his Match in England, for a hundred Pound. Sir, I would not trouble you too much with this kind of Stuff; you may judge from this short Draught, what these Gen­tlemen would be at, their sole Business is flat Sharping, and Rooking; and, if you'll venture in amongst 'em, and hazard your Mony; you may depend upon't; if they find you a Stranger, they'll have some Device, either by fair means or foul, to cheat you before they part with you. But after all, what, I wonder, can it be that should induce a Gentleman, to ha­zard himself, and his Reputation among such a Gang of Varlets, as these are. I can't imagine where the Diversion, or Fe­licity can be, to see a Kennel of Deep­mouth'd Ruffians (standing round a Pair of Foolish Creatures) Hollowing, Cursing, and Blaspheming, whilst they mangle one another to death? This is a very unac­countable way of disposing of your self, in­deed. Well, Sir, I will not trouble you more about it; you see how Cases stand, and if you will plunge your self into such ma­nifest Inconveniences, you must ev'n take it for your Pains, and sit down by the Loss.

And next for Horse Raceing: Why, that's in the main a Cheat as bad, if not [Page 94] worse than the former, and many an Ho­nest Gentleman hath been bubbl'd by it out of his whole Estate. As to the great Matches between Noblemen and Gentle­men, the Plate-matches, &c. that's all Country Business, and don't fall within the compass of my Design; and I'm glad it does not, for truly if it had, I'm afraid I should have been apt to say something that would not so well have suited with their respective Characters. However, if you are for a Course, and will be betting with 'em, you may take this among the rest, That unless you have a true Know­ledge of the Horse, and Riders, and espe­cially of the Design of the Owners, you may as well be taken in by a Jockey Knight, or Squire, as by an Hoastler, or a Horse Courser; and what's worse, you must not complain neither; if you do, you affront 'em, and then Wars will ensue. In brief, I think you have no great Business among any of 'em. But since we are upon the Ramble, we'll make a short trip to Barnsted Downs, or Hackney Marsh, and see what Company they have got there: There, I'll warrant you, if you are for such sort of Sport, you won't want Di­version. Well, I wou'd not keep you long among 'em (for they're a dangerous Socie­ty) and therefore you wou'd do well to re­member, [Page 95] that there's not one Match in twenty run there, but what's a Cheat; the Heart of the Company is made up of nothing, but Jockeys, Horse Coursers, Hoa­stlers, and Farriers, with some extrava­gant Citizens, that are learning to gallop, and manage their Racers, against they are forc'd to mount 'em upon another occa­sion. A General Cit, that does not Ride above ten or eleven Stone, after he has wisely Raced himself out of his Shop, makes as accomplisht a Highway-man, as the best Butcher, Coachman, or Hoastler of 'em all. But, Sir, I'm sure you won't like this Company; beside you have enough of it in your own Country, and therefore we'll leave 'em to manage their Cheats by them­selves, and make the best of our way to Hide Park, to try if we can have any bet­ter Diversion, at a Foot Match.

Foot Raceing, is just of the same Nature with the former, only with this Diffe­rence, that they Rob a Foot, and the other a Horseback; the One's a Highway-man, and the Other's a Pad. In short, the general Business of both is to make Sham Matches, to draw in Strangers, and to impose upon 'em, by a few rascally Cheats and Tricks: But they're grown so com­mon, and well known in Town, that there's few, but the very Rabble, take any [Page 96] Notice of 'em. I could have entertain'd you with some of their Villanous Strata­gems and Devices, but that I think they are both below a Gentleman's Ear and Pen; they're only fit for the correction of the Mob, and let them take 'em, and try, whether a Horse-pond, or a House of Office, will work any thing towards their Reformation.

LETTER XIV.

GƲINEA Dropping, or Sweetning, is a Paultry little Cheat, that was re­commended to the World about thirty Years ago, by a Memorable Gentleman, that has since had the Misfortune to be taken off, I mean, Hang'd, for a Misde­meanour upon the Highway. However, he left the Mystery behind him, which has ever since been manag'd with pretty good Success, by some of the worthy Members of his Gang, and is now improv'd to that high Perfection, that 'tis become a perfect Occupation, and several Remarkable Persons live upon it. The General Places where the Masters of this Art Rendezvous, is Lincolns-Inn Fields, and Covent Garden, and in most other Publick Places between Westminster Hall, and Temple Bar; especially in the two former; and 'tis some odds if a Country [Page 98] Gentleman, or a Stranger passes through either of 'em, but he's attackd by 'em. The Manner of this Cheat, is thus, (as I had it from One of the Chief Masters of the Faculty, that, it seems, has quitted the Business upon some Dislike.)

Says he, To make us a Compleat Set, there must be three of us; One to Perso­nate a Merchant, the other a Country Gentleman, and the third a Tradesman. When we have hit of our Cully, (and they have commonly a damnable Notion of a Per­son for their Turn) One of our Gang marches directly before him, and another follows close behind, till they come to a convenient Place, where the Mouth (as they are pleas'd to term him) must needs observe; and then the Spark that is in the Front, drops the Gui­nea: Faith, (says he, turning about to the Stranger) I have found a Piece of Mony here, I think 'tis a Guinea; and then if he that's in the Rear perceives he's insensible of the Cheat, up he steps, and claims Halfs. After a little Sham-squabble between the two Cheats, says the first, If any body has any right to a Snack, 'tis this Gentleman, who saw me take it up: But to prevent Di­sputes, Come, (saith he) 'tis a lucky hit, we'll ev'n go all to the Tavern, and spend the odd Mony, and then divide the Remainder fairly [Page 99] and equally amongst us. The third still con­tinues at a distance, to observe the Success of their Management, and in what Tavern they house him, which is one where they commonly have a thorow Acquaintance and Familiarity: when he's fixt, then in comes he, in a mighty Hurry, and pretended Con­fusion, for the Loss of a Bill, which he says he supposes he dropt just now, in the very Room where they are drinking: And to co­lour the Matter, One of the other two conveys a Sham-bill under the Table, which he immediately takes up, and as a testi­mony of his Joy for the Recovery of it, will needs call for his Pint. After they have drank two or three Pints, and be­gin to grow a little warm, up starts one of 'em, and pretends to have disco­vered a Pack of Cards, which he has be­fore plac'd in some convenient part of the Room, for his purpose. Ha! says he, here's a Pack of Cards; Come, Faith, I'll shew you one of the prettiest Tricks, that I was taught by a Dutchman t'other Day, that ever I saw in my Life: And so to possess their Cully of their Innocence, &c. they shew several of the ordinary Tricks upon the Cards. At last, he that is the most Dexterous, starts the Grand Trick; which they call Preaching the Parson; how the Dogs came to call it by that Name, [Page 100] know not; unless it be, that so many honest Clergymen, above the rest, have been impos'd upon by it. As to the Manner of their Trick, 'is no great matter, my De­sign is not to teach you Tricks, but how to avoid 'em: 'tis a Palm, and a Slip that they have, a sort of Deceptio Visus, which if you have a Curiosity to see, there's enough in Town will equip you. If this Cheat takes, then they have no need to try any other Expedients; but if this don't pass upon you, then they'll try you with false Dice, Rug and the Leather, or twenty other Projects, that they have ready upon such Occasions. For, in short, your Mo­ny they will have, before they part with you; or rather than fail, knock you down, and rifle you, or pick your Pocket.

Sir, you have this Account of this piece of Roguery, in the very words, as near as my Memory will serve me, as I had it from my worthy Informer (one of the Ma­sters of the Gang;) and truly I have been something the longer upon it, that it may serve as a General Caution to you against Imbarking your self with Strangers, upon any pretence whatever. For, give me leave to tell you, a considerable part of the Mischiefs of this Town, are deriv'd to us upon that Account, and will be every Day more and more so, considering the [Page 101] present posture of Men and things. This Town degenerates hourly; Honesty and Vertue, are almost dwindled to nothing. Roguery, Folly and Vice, are constantly increasing, and growing more Publick and Insolent; so that if you will notwith­standing venture to London, believe me, 'twill require your utmost Care and Wis­dom to guard your self against 'em.

LETTER XV.

SIR, I am now entring upon the last, and indeed the most unpleasant part of my Relation, i. e. the Tricks of Bawds and Jilts, two Ranks of degenerated Animals, so exactly Impious, so solemnly and de­liberately Vicious, and Scandalous▪ that their very Names, the very. Title of a Bawd, and a Whore, is sufficient to fright a Sober Man, not only from their Em­braces, aud Conversation, but even out of all manner of Lustful Thoughts and In­clinations.

In the first Rank I place the Bawd, or Procurer, you may call her what you will; for though the latter has usurp'd a Name a little more Modish, and Decent than the former, and perhaps may have a little more Business among the Quality and [Page 103] Gentry, yet they are both Practitioners in the very same Arts and Sciences, and con­stantly agree in the Main of their Occu­pation. Ther's no Difference that ever I heard between Jeany C—and Moll— Q—or my Lady—either, only in point of Price: Jeany and my Lady won't equip you under a Guinea, perhaps; and Moll will furnish you as well for Half a Crown; nay, rather than lose your Cu­stom, for a Shilling, and a Quartern of Rasberry.

In short, One helps to a Common Miss, and the other to a Common Whore; there's no Odds but in the Name: And these are all Works of Darkness beside, and then ac­cording to the old Proverb, Jone's as good as my Lady.

However, for Method sake, I'll take 'em to pieces, and shew you a few of their Tricks and Managements, under the respective Characters of a Procurer, Bawd, and Jilt.

First then for the Procurer: Her chief Place of Rendezvous, is at the Play-house, that's the Change she never fails to be upon; and indeed is the most proper Place for her to put off her Dammag'd Commo­dities. She seldom wants Chapmen there, especially for her Maiden-heads, which she pretends is the only part of her Mer­chandize.

[Page 104] You may easily discover where-abouts in the Pit she keeps her Office, by the Concourse of Whores and Gallants, that are perpetually crowding about her, either for Advice, or Assistance. If you should once be so unhappily Vicious, to make use of her, she will lay so many Snares and Tem­ptations to entangle and betray you, that 'tis almost impossible for you afterwards to escape her Delusions.

Sometimes she'll have the delicatest Woman in the World for you; at other times a fine young Creature, of about fourteen, a perfect Pattern of Innocence, and Modesty, and a pure Virgin; beside, she has one that sings like an Angel; an­other than dances to a Miracle; a third that has an incomparable Shape and Meen; and a fourth that's an Absolute Wit, and the only diverting Companion of her whole Sex.

In short, she has 'em, or at least pre­tends she has 'em of all Sorts and Prices, from a Guinea to five, and from five to a hundred; but let me tell you, that if you deal with her for any of 'em, you have better Luck than most of your Neighbours, that venture their Stocks upon such brittle Ware, if it don't prove a dear Bargain at the making up your Account.

[Page 105] A Race Whore, or a Pad Strumpet, as they order their Business, will stand you in five times as much in a Year's Keep­ing, as a Race Horse and a Pad together, nay, than a whole Stable of Racers, Pads, and Hunters too. They must be kept finely cloath'd, and nicely drest, and have good Meat in their Bellies beside, or else they'll turn Jades immediately.

But perhaps you may like the Humour of Roveing better, than Keeping any of these Cattle for your own Riding; hire a Hackney Whore, as your Citizens do their Horses, for a Journey, and no more.

But then unless you can have 'em at the same Price too, fifteen Pence a side, if you should have occasion to Ride often, you'll find it very chargeable.

Which of these Methods is the bet­ter, I cannot direct you, I must confess I abominato [...] both; but there's enough in Town that can; 'tis true, they are ge­nerally forc'd to walk it now, or if they do mount (which is very seldom) 'tis ei­ther upon a cast Hunter, or some poor Pad that has had the Farcy, or a Fistula, or some Surfeit or other foul Distemper, that has made 'em only fit for the Hounds, or at best for a Hackney.

[Page 106] However, they can inform you suffi­ciently, or else you may read it in their Looks; their very Legs will direct that they have Rid hard in former times, and withal give you a sad testimony, how dan­gerous such Journeys are, both in regard to your Estate, Wealth, and Reputa­tion.

In short, Sir, if one of these Belle Dame Sorceresses, should once bewitch you into their Net, deside the Fulsomness of the Vice it self, and the hateful and, loathsome Qualifications that are incor­porated with it, she has so many Black Arts, so many Infernal Stratagems and Devices linkt together, to keep you fast in her Clutches, that 'tis almost impossible for you to disengage your self, till she has had her End, and that commonly termi­nates in your Ruine.

'Tis unaccountable indeed, when they hear of a Beautiful Woman, (in the first place) what strange Contrivances and De­vices, what Projects and Designs they lay, that they may get into her Company, and corrupt her. The Deluding and Ruin­ing both Men and Women is their whole Business and Occupation; nay, not only their own, but the Business of several [Page 107] Agents and Factors. A sort of Mercenary Hell-hounds, which they turn out to hunt the Town, to try what Game of either sort they can find; and if they chance to make their Set upon a Country Gentleman, or a Stranger, be sure the Dog will never forsake the Haunt, till his Mistris (if he ha'nt been disturb'd and drawn at before) finds some means or other, to entangle 'em in her Net.

And now for the Bawd: She's a sort of Viperous Creature, that has all the bad Properties of the former, with so many Additions of her own, that she's a Monster, both without Paralel, and beyond Descri­ption. She's the very Dregs both of a Jilt and a Procurer; a Wretch, that having lost all Grace, Modesty, or Humanity, has su'd out her Indentures in the Devil's Company, and bound her self to deal in no other Commodities, but those that tend directly to propagate his Interest.

These sort of Practitioners generally keep Seraglio's of their own, with the Superscri­ption of Chocolate, or Coffee over their Doors, which are constantly guarded with three or four painted Harlots, that are always ready either by Surprise or Assault, to make you their Prisoner.

[Page 108] If they can any ways get you into their Case (as they call it) and rather than fail they'll impudently hawl you to: why then in course, you must call for your Half-pint of Rasberry; and so one of 'em begins a Beastly Health, to let you know what Oc­cupation they follow.

Before this is drunk, in steps the Go­verness, in a mighty Rage, that the Gen­tleman is not shew'd into a better Room. Come, Sir, says she, and snatches up the Candle (so that you must either go with her, or stay with those Vermine in the Dark) fol­low me, and I'll light you up my self: When they have got you there, then they con­clude you're fixt, and so three or four Couple of her Choice Whores are pre­sently let loose, to live at Discretion upon you.

If they can by any Sort of vicious Lewdness entice you into Debauchery, the next thing is, which of the Ladies you pitch upon, and the Terms. Mrs. Frances, she's but just come out of the Country, and has not been upon Duty these four Months, there's but little Dif­ference between her and a Maidenhead, and she can't be afforded for less than ten Shillings, beside half a Crown for her self. [Page 109] Mrs. Margaret's a good clean Woman, and very modest and innocent, a pretty, harmless▪ Creature, three half Crowns is the Price, and she never went under. Mrs. Betty, Mrs. Nancy, and sweet Mrs. Sukey, are all three sound and active, but be­cause Trading's dead, and Money's scarce, and you look like a civil Gentleman, and because I'd encouage you to come again, you shall have one of 'em for a Crown, and that's the lowest; but, for Moll and Kare, Joan, Margery, Abigail, &c. you know the Fare I suppose, and though I say't my self, there's ne'er a Gentlewoman in the whole Trade can shew a better Warehouse of such sort of Goods than I can, nor af­ford a better Pennyworth.

With this kind of Prate the Old Mi­stress of Iniquity entertains her Guest, whilst a Kennel of hungry Brutes are all the while yelping their fulsom Ribaldry, swearing, cursing, and blaspheming, and ravenously swallowing and devouring e­very thing they lay their Talons upon.

This is rare Company, is it not, for a Country Gentleman to run himself into? Nay, besides all these, there's a strong Party of Rogues and Bullies below, if you should not comply with their inso­lent [Page 110] Demands, or scruple to pay their extravagant Reckoning, ready upon Oc­casion to hector and insult you, or rather than fail, to strip and murder you.

To have done with 'em, I cannot su­spect that you should ever give up so much of your Reason, to hazard your self into such a Labirinth of mischief as this is. No, no, Sir, I'm confident you never will. A Bawdyhouse! why, 'tis the very Gate of Hell, an In-let to Dis­grace, Ruine and Contempt, and more to be avoided by far than a Jaques or a Pesthouse, and in all Respects as Loath­som as the one, and as Contagious as the other.

I come, in the next Place, to the Jilt, which is a sort of Creature, a little more private and designing, but in the main as lewd and dissolute, and more dangerous than e'er a one of the former.

These forsooth would be counted Ver­tuous and Religious Whores; Misses they'll own themselves to be, but Whore's a Term a little too Rough to go down with such nice Palates, the Name of a Miss relishes better with them; well, let 'em be Misses then; but, for all their Miss­ship, [Page 111] I passionately Caution you, never to come near any of 'em; for if you do, you'll find they can Ruin you as soon as the best Procurer or Bawd of 'em all.

These Vermine play at high Games, nothing will serve some of them less than a Settlement of two or three Hundred per Annum, a Coach, fine Lodgings, Plate, China and other things suitable for a Whore of Rank, and upon these Conside­rations she'll be faithful to you, or at least she'll promise you she will; but this is only a Promise de facto neither; so long as your Estate lasts, and you can maintain her in her Extravagance and Grandeur, but when that fails, so does the Obligation too; she has the grand political Reasons ready as well as the best Statesman of 'em all, and commonly makes the same Use of it.

She can Pray, Cant, shed a few Cro­codiles Tears, or, rather than fail, sham a Fit, as a token of the Passion and Ten­derness she has for you; but then your Back's no sonner turn'd, but she tells her Stallion you're a nasty, sickly, feeble Fel­low, and that as soon as she has perswa­ded you out of the Settlement and the new Furniture, she'll first affront you, and then leave you.

[Page 112] If she finds you are a Cully indeed, and will be often impos'd upon by her, then she has a thousand little, wheedling tricks and Artifices to decoy you. Sometimes she's breeding, forsooth, and then [...]ure you cannot be so barbarous to your own Flesh and Blood, but you will take some Care of the young one; besides, she wants Night-Gowns, and Damask for Clouts, and a thousand other Necessaries for a Lying-in Woman.

There's my Lord A—s, and Sir John B—s, and Collonel D—s Misses lay in, in as much State the other day as the best Lady in the Kingdom; nay, Mr. F—that is but an ordinary Citizen presented his Mistress with a new Bed and the Furniture of a Room that cost him above a hundred and fifty Pound; and what has she, I wonder, done that she should not deserve as much as the best of 'em? Why sure she's as Handsom and as Young, and is as well descended, and has been as well bred as any of 'em, and do you think that she'll be put off with your nasty, shabby forty or fifty Guinea's? No truly, she rather thinks, that as Cases stand between you and her, you ought to cut off the Entail of your Estate, and settle [Page 113] a good part of it upon her for her Life, and then let the Child Heir it afterwards; and perhaps all this too may be only Whore-craft, and Pretences, and so she must be forc'd (to bring her self off) to sham a Miscarriage; and that your Cru­elty, and Hard-heartedness in not settling your Estate upon her, and answering her Demands, has been the cause of it; and will at last force her to make her self a­way: Well, but if you loved her as well as she loves you, you could not be so Bar­barous to deny her any thing.

Besides, she has been no chargeable Mistress to you neither; she has been your Drudge for at least these Seven Months, and ha'nt cost you fifteen hun­dred Pound in the whole. If you had lived with some she knows in Town, so long, (but she is an easie Fool) 'twould not stood you in a Penny less than three thousand.

Sir, their Tricks and Devices are num­berless, and not to be paralell'd by any thing but their Ingratitude and Inhuma­nity; there indeed they exceed them­selves; nothing in Nature being so per­fectly brutish and Cruel, as One of these kind of Creatures; the very Moment [Page 114] you stop your Hand, they grow Rude, and Insolent; and when they find they have entirely done your Business, and turned you a grazing, who so ready as that very Syren that has spent your Estate, to laugh at, revile, and scorn you; and you are not less her Buffoon now, than you were her Property formerly.

To have done with her: A Jilt, is a Procurer, Bawd, and Whore Compounded together. A Vermine so Ravenous, and Malicious, and withal so subtile and De­signing, so formally Chast, and Hypocri­tically Vertuous; and yet so Scandalously Common, and Impudently Lewd; so Proud, and yet so Mercenary, and above all so Insolently Ill-natur'd, That in the short Title of a Jilt are comprehended all the Vices, Follies, and Impertinencies of her whole Sex.

And last for their Art of Trapping. This is Mystery that they commonly manage either by the Assistance of a Pregnant Whore. or by the help of some Letters, or Papers, that they pick out of your Pocket, that gives them an Inlet into your Affairs. The first is carried on by Procurers, Bawds and Jilts, and the lat­ter by Sharpers, Setters and Bullies.

[Page 115] If they are once so fortunate to get a Big-bellied Whore into their Confederacy, then they carry her about in a kind of Triumph, among all their Cullys and No­vices; every one, forsooth, under the No­tion of being the true Father, must sub­scribe an Individual Maintenance for the Strumpet and the Brat; or a Warrant must be got immediately, or the Masters of the Parish call'd in to their Assistance, to force you to it. 'Tis no boot to contest it; for, if you do, they'll force the Wo­man to Swear it upon you, and the [...] your Reputation's lost; and withal you have the Charge of a Whore, and a Bastard en­tail'd upon you ad infinitum.

If they get your Papers, and Letters into their Clutches, those are their Cre­dentials, for their Sharpers, Setters, and Bullys to commence their Villanies; in such Cases they pretend that the Harlot that rifled you, was an honest Gentle­woman, and the Wife of a Person of Credit and Reputation; and you must ei­ther make Satisfaction, and Compound the Business, or else they'll expose you first, and bring their Action against you after­wards.

[Page 116] And what can a Man can do, when he has brought himself into such a Di­lemma, by his Folly? For my part, the Case is so very bad and desperate, I can't direct you in't: If you Compound with 'em now, you do but lay your self open to their Mercy, and render your self a Bubble, and a Property for the future; or if you resist 'em, why then you lose your Credit; they'll be sure to be as good as their Words in that point however, to misrepresent you, and abuse you in all Companies, and upon all Occasions; so that this Business of Whoring, especially, seems to have a Malevolent Influence, both upon your Estate, and Reputation; nay, upon your Person too; and very rarely terminates without destroying 'em all.

To conclude this loathsome Relation, you may learn from this rough Account what kind of Creatures Procurers, Bawds, Jilts, Whores, and their Appendages, i. e. Sharpers, Setters, and Bullies are.

And now what shall I say more, but ad­vise you again; If you reguard your Health, your Estate, or your Reputation, nay, what is yet more, if you regard [Page 117] the Liberty and Quiet of your Life, to shun 'em all; and that will be one great means to make your London Expedition a little the more Comfortable, and the less exposed to Hazard, and Expence.

LETTER XVI.

SIR, having in a long Letter, the last Post, entertained you with the Vicious Tricks and Humours of the Female Pro­stitutes; I shall now change the Sex, and expose to you some of the base Practices of the Male, as they fall in Order; under the distinct Characters of Bullys, Setters, and Hangers-on.

And first for the Bully, which (if I take him right) is a kind of Lewd Blustering Animal, that having rendered himself un­fit (by a Complication of Vicious and De­generate Actions) for the Conversation and Society of Sober and Rational Crea­tures, is forc'd to throw himself into the Company of Bawds and Whores, and to live upon their Contribution and Subsi­stance.

[Page 119] I shall not enlarge much upon his Cha­racter, or Method of living, they are both so generally known in Town and Coun­try too, 'twould be at best an Imperti­nence, to spend much time about him. As I told you before, his common Rendez­vous is among the Bawds and Whores; he eats their Bread, and fights their Battles▪ Hectors and insults their Cullys, gathers their Contribution; and for a need, can Pimp, Betray and Set, as well as the best of 'em.

You may discern him by his long Sword, his Insolent and Sawcy Beha­viour; but above all, by his Atheistical Dialect, Swearing, Cursing, and Ribaldry. If ever you should be so unhappy to fall in with him, he consequently entertains you with the dismal Relation of the Men he has Murder'd, and the Women he has Raped; the famous Battle he fought with such a Watch, or the bloody Rencounter he had with a Detachment of Bailiffs, or some such Romantick Lies and Forgeries; and if he can impose so far upon you, that he perceives you're inclin'd to believe him, 'tis ten to one but he draws you into a Quarrel, or some other Inconveniency; and then by a Cowardly Stratagem, brings [Page 120] himself off, and basely deserts you to shift for your self.

I need not tell you, that a Bully's a Coward; the two Names are too Con­vertible, to want an Explication; the whole Stress of his Valour and Prowess depends solely upon his Insolence, Igno­rance, and Oaths; and but ruffle him once thoroughly, that he may perceive you know both his Trade and his Tem­per, he'll fawn upon you for ever after­wards like a Spaniel, you may kick him, cuff him, pinch him, or use him how you will; he has had the Misfortune to kill a Man lately, he'll tell you, and is under an Obligation at present not to fight; but when his time's expir'd, woe be to you.

Well, Sir, I hope you won't think this a Conversable Creature; for, for all his Cowardice and Ignorance, and for all he's an Animal so perfectly below the Chara­cter of a Man, he can betray you into Gaming, into Quarrels, into a Bawdy-house, and into the Company of Rogues, Thieves, and Whores, as well as the wittyest Sharper, or stoutest Spark of the Town.

The next Gentleman that falls in Or­der, is the Setter; his way of Recom­mending [Page 121] himself is quite contrary, by slye Insinuations and Flatteries, by Hypocriti­cal Cringes, and Fawnings, and Smooth and Knavish Pretences, and formal Dissi­mulations: But notwithstanding his out­side looks so fair and plausible, take heed of him; there's a legion within him.

All the Cheats and Villanies in Na­ture is concenter'd in his Mind and Thoughts; his very Soul is nothing but thick black, and Soot, and stands always ready bent to prosecute the next Advanta­geous Mischief.

His ordinary Occupation is to attend the Motion of Young Heirs, to draw and trapan 'em into Mean, and Unequal Matches, and so impose upon 'em Jilts and Whores, under the Character of Heiresses and Virtuosa's; and this he does with so much Dexterity, and so many sub­tile Arts, and crafty Stratagems, that 'tis almost impossible, if you should be once so unfortunate to fall into his Manage­ment, to escape out of it again, without being undone, for the remainder of your Life.

Here in course the Entail of your Estate must be cut off, to make room for a Set­tlement [Page 122] for the Harlot; and she must have a handsom Present made her too, of four or five hundred Pound value: If you have no Mony, they'll procure it for you, upon your Bond and Judgment, and a Friend or two withal, that shall stand bound with you for the Payment, till you receive your Lady's Fortune; but then you must do them the same Favour, only enter in­to a Bond and Judgment with one of 'em, for a thousand Pound or so, for a Month; and that's a return of Civility, which you cannot deny.

Here the whole Business of your Life is done in the compass of a Week, you're Married to a Whore, your Estate is all dis­joynted, and torn to pieces, and perhaps seiz'd upon by a Combination of Villains; and what's as great an Aggravation as any thing else, you're become the By­word and Laughing stock of your Friends and Acquaintance; and all this, this New As­sociate has done for you, under the smooth Pretence and Hypocritical Coverture of singular Honesty and Sincerity.

If this Business of a Wife don't pass up­on you, he'll try in the second place if he can draw you into Sham-projects, and Chimaera's: He and his Friends have a new [Page 123] Invented Engine upon the Stocks, by the help of which you may walk with much Freedom and Ease, in the bottom of the Sea, as in your own Garden; and withal they have Intelligence upon Oath of a Wreck, where there's several Millions, and 'twill be all their own, in four or five Months at most; if you don't like this, they have a Water Engine, that will dis­charge a thousand Tun an hour, out of the deepest Mine; or, they have a Mine where there's a Rib of Ore, of a prodigious big­ness; and for a Sum of Mony to carry on their Works, you may be admitted into their Society, and be a Sharer in the whole, and can't fail to get a considerable Estate in a few Years.

Here you're entangl'd again, if you Em­bark your self with 'em; and not only lose all the present Mony you part with, but are in great hazard to be drawn into fu­ture Bond and Obligations, and conse­quently ruin'd at last.

Sir, I should trouble you, and my self, too long, if I should proceed to enume­rate the respective Rogueries and Tricks of a Setter; and therefore I'll leave him with this short Character.

[Page 124] His whole Life is a compendious Histo­ry of deep and deliberate Villany; his only Business, nay, even his Diversion, consists solely in Betraying and Trappan­ning; his Food and Sustenance depends intirely upon Lying, Falshood and Perju­ry; In a Word he has the Devil's Motto stamp'd upon him in large Characters, and is perpetually ranging to seek whom he may devour.

I come, in the last place, to the Hanger­on or Spunger; and this is commonly a sort of sottish, lazy Creature, tho' natu­rally not so dangerous and mischievous as the former, yet, as troublesome and im­pertinent, and indeed, a greater Clog to a Man of Sence than either of 'em.

He has little to recommend him unless it be a few drunken Jests, or Scraps of Poe­try, or perhaps some broken Characters of Men and things, with a little of the News and Humours of the Town; and by virtue of these mighty Qualifications he fancies himself a Companion fit for the best Gentlemen in the Kingdom, and will be sure, upon the smallest Invitation to croud himself upon him if he meets any Encouragement; and 'tis ten to one but by degrees he grows fami­liar, [Page 125] and after that impudent, and at last intolerable.

In one Point, indeed, he's a perfect Philoso­pher, he carries all he has along with him, and truly that's little enough too; his Fur­niture in general is so wretched and scan­dalous, that you may as soon learn a Spun­ger by his Garb, &c. as a Bully by his Cursing and Ribaldry, or a Setter by his Fawning and Dissimulation. A Bawdy Song or two, a few drunken Healths, and about half a Dozen dull Punds set him up; and with these he will be perpetually gra­ting and dinning your Ears till he has worn 'em as thread bare as his Coat, and after all, must be forc'd to be laught or kick'd out of 'em before he will quit 'em too.

As for Money, he never has any, nor never pretends to any, unless it be now and then the Fragments of a Reckoning which he pinches from the Drawer, to heel-piece his Shoes or recruit his Tobac­co Box.

In short, these Hangers on are Drones in the strictest Sence and Definition, and if you once suffer 'em to crawl into your Hive (to keep up to the Nature of the In­sect) [Page 126] they'll be sure to besmear and disturb your Cell, Devour your Honey, and in all Respects are as burdensom and perni­cious to the Persons they can fasten them­selves upon, as Drones and Wasps are to Bees, &c.

This Town swarms with this Sort of Insects, and a Country Gentleman can hardly set his Foot into it, but there are several of 'em come instantly humming and buzzing about him. I have given you already my Notion of Idleness; and I tell you again, in the Words of a great Man, that 'tis so scandalous and reproach­ful that neither Heaven, Earth, nor Hell it self will own or patronize it.

How unreasonable then is it, I think I may say, how infamous and unaccountable, to pick up such loose and profitless Crea­tures, and take 'em into your Bosom, and make 'em your Companions. I am asto­nish'd when I see six or seven of 'em stal­king before a Country Gentleman, and crowding themselves into all Company and Business along with him, sucking and spunging upon him, and, in the literal Sence, eating him up alive. Sir, I hope you will not misunderstand me, I am not dis­swading you against Relieving and Sup­porting [Page 127] distress'd Gentlemen in their Ne­cessities.

No, no, I would not have you defie the Example of that Liberality by whose Effects you live, but then I would not have you neither abuse the Divine Prece­dent, by fostering a sort of vicious, slug­gish Creatures, that with great Reason you ought to detest and reject, let 'em e'en sing their Requiems some where else, for you may depend upon't, that a Cry of these Slow, Deep-mouth'd Dogs, altho they don't run so swift, will stick as close to the Scent, and as effectually hunt you to death, as a Kennel of the fleetest Hariots or sharpest Fox-Hounds.

The last thing I propos'd in this, was to make some short and general Refle­ctions upon Gaming; they must be short and general indeed, for I find I have wa­sted so much of my Paper upon my three last scurvy Subjects, that I have only Room left for a very few Lines.

That the Original Design of Play or Gaming was Diversion and Recreation, I suppose we may take for granted; but since it has lost its native Property, and basely degenerated into a mechanical Trade and Occupation.

[Page 128] I'm affraid, as Cases stand, we have two other Titles that will suit it much better, i. e. Covetousness and Cheating; for what imaginable Cause can there be assign'd, but the flat Desire of Winning, that should induce Men to venture what they have for what they have not; nay, that which they are affraid and unwilling to lose for that which they're uncertain to gain.

This can be nothing but Covetousness; for if Covetousness was not the Grand Mover, there could not be the least Grounds or Pretence for great and deep Gaming; a Man may divert himself as well for a Shilling as for a Pound, and for a Pound as for a Thousand; and if that were all, provided it were not used immoderately, there would be no Harm in Gaming at all.

No, no, 'tis Covetousness, which tho' some of the more thinking Sort of Game­sters are asham'd to own, take off the Disguise, and you see the Ugly Hag drest up in all her dismal Pomp of Wretched­ness and Misery.

[Page 129] And then for Cheating; why, 'tis the Inseparable Qualification of a Gamester. A Man has not only blind Chance to deal with (tho that be but a very leaky, cra­zy Vessel for him to put to Sea in, upon such a dangerous Expedition) but such a Combination of Deceit, and such a Chain of Tricks and Slights link'd together, that e­ven good Fortune it self is not sufficient to guard and secure him against 'em: So that a Gamester lies under a kind of Necessity to make himself Master of the useful Art of Cheating, that he may be upon the Level with the rest of his Fraternity.

And now, Sir, can there be any thing more sordidly mean and base, and more exaltedly foolish, than for a Man to pra­ctise a Profession that does so naturally entitle him to two of the worst Chara­cters in the World, i. e. a Miser and a Cheat.

To conclude, if, after all, a Man could arrive to the highest Perfection in this paltry Science, Gaming and Cheating have commonly a Reflex'd Efficacy, and de­ceive none more than those that use 'em. Besides all this, what should it be, I won­der, that should encline a Gentleman of [Page 130] an Estate to take up such a Scoundrel Oc­cupation: He'd be very loath to be stig­matiz'd with the exploded Name of a Mechanick in other Cases; and where the mighty Reason lies, he should submit to it in this, is a Mystery, I profess, beyond my unravelling.

Well Sir, let the Shipwrack'd Fortunes of Abundance of our young Adven­turers be a Caution to you, how extream­ly reproachful and hazardous it is to em­bark your self in such a fatal Profession; a Profession, that at once exposes you to the irrepairable Loss of your Time, the en­dangering your Estate, and to the Forfeiture of your Reputation, and withal is so much below the Interest and Character of a Gen­tleman.

LETTER XVII.

SIR, I have already led you through a dismal Wilderness, and briefly shewed you what a Herd of Wild Beasts and Monsters you must take your Range among, if your Resolution for the Town continues; and now I think 'tis high Time to wind up my Account. Indeed there are abundance of other dangerous Occurrences that may well justifie a se­vere Reprehension, but I shall only in­stance one or two more, and leave the Conviction these have receiv'd at the Tribunals of Reason and Experience to conclude the rest.

And first, for your Garb, you'll find some of our City Gentry so ridiculously Gawdy and Extravagant, that compara­tively, [Page 130] [...] [Page 131] [...] [Page 132] a Ship may be rigg'd for the Indies both as cheap and as easily; most of the Trades in the Commonwealth are some way or other concern'd in their E­quipage, such a strange multiplying Fa­culty has this sort of Vanity, that it has improv'd Nature's simple Necessity of a Covering, the first Fig-Leaves (as 'tis phras'd by that excelent Author of the Gentleman's Calling) to such a Luxuriant Growth, that those Hercynean Oaks which Mela tells such Wonders of, are but a sort of Pigmy Plants in comparison of them.

But these are but a kind of Butterfly-Sparks, a few insignificant Insects that flutter about Town for a Year or two, and are afterwards forc'd to crawl into Holes and Corners in a Dress perhaps no less contemptible, wretched, and loath­som, than the former was gay, fulsom, and pedantick.

This is a Folly, indeed, that I cannot supect a Gentleman of your Sence can be guilty of, and yet, vain and foolish as it is, I could quote you a considerable Number that have been undone by it, that have laid out their whole Estate in a few gawdy Trappings, that they [Page 133] may make a Figure (as they call it) have at last figur'd it so long, till they have figur'd themselves into Rags or a Prison, and render'd them the Con­tempt and Laughing-Stocks of the whole Town.

Next to these, we have another Rank of unthinking Creatures, a sort of nice­palated Sparks, that nothing will go down with but Dainties and Curiosities; tell 'em of good Beef Mutton, Veal, or any of our own Productions, which doubtless are the best in the World, they'll swear they are all Porters Fare, and unless they are first adulterated with some studied Mixtures; and forc'd from their native Property by some new and costly Sauces, they are far too mean and common for their Tables.

These, in the strictest Sence, may be said to incurr the Vultures Fate, i. e. to eat up themselves; and truly so it com­monly falls out. I have known within the Compass of my own Experience a­bundance of these Luxuriant Prodigals, that have so long tantaliz'd themselves with their Delicious Morsels, that at [Page 134] length they have wanted Food conve­nient for the Support of Nature.

Others we have, that affect the Repu­tation of making costly Treats and Enter­tainments; a hundred pound is but a mean Sum to spend upon an Evenings Collation for a Mistress or two, which per­haps do him the favour after all but to laugh at him for his Prodigality.

I heard a Fool my self (that's now shirking about Town, and will be glad of any body that will give him a Pot of Ale and a Roll and Cheese) bragging not many Months before, That an En­tertainment he made for three or four Ladies cost him six score pounds. Such Wretches, I think, are below all kind of Pity. I could almost grudge 'em even the Husks their Extravagance natu­rally confines 'em to, and wish 'em rather some Fate more remarkable, scandalous and durable, that might not only nauseate but fright the rest of the World from their Inadvertency.

There are several other things that I could mention to you that are no less dan­gerous than ridiculous; but, Sir, I can [Page 135] never suspect you shonld so evidently transplant your discerning Faculty from your Intellect to your Sense, to suffer your self to be impos'd upon by any of these sort of Follies.

I beseech you not to mistake me, I abhor all Sour [...]ese or Singularity, and heartily allow of a Decent Garb, and a Gentile, Friendly Entertainment upon Occasion, they are equally Necessary and Commendable in a Gentleman. And indeed, so long as they are kept with­in the true Rules of Sobriety and Mo­deration, are very highly consistent, not only with his Character but his Interest.

I could make a great many Just Re­flections (if 'twere necessary) upon those whose Vain and Lavish Humours have enclined 'em to squander away their Estates in such Insignificant Trifles; but I'm sure a haughty, ex­travagant Mind must feel Smart e­nough without any additional Aggra­vations; it must needs be a most em­bittering Consideration, a Consideration that advances the Affliction, beyond that of a more innocent Poverty, as [Page 136] much as the Pain of an envenom'd Ar­row exceeds that of another.

Beside all the more remote Dangers and Inconveniencies I have already mentioned, there are still two other, which you are the most nearly con­cern'd to guard your self against; the first is against Innovations and Un­settledness in your Religion; and the second against embarking your self in Cabals, and Confederacis in Matters belonging to the State and Govern­ment.

We have Temptations and Temp­ters too, of all Sorts at London, great Numbers of Persons that make it their Business to snap up Strangers, and watch all Occasions to try if they can impose any of their Trumpery up­on 'em.

Here the Papists, Presbyterians, Qua­kers, Independants, Anabaptists, &c. have all their Party Men abroad to endeavour the Gaining Proselytes; and truly 'tis great odds, but some of 'em attempt to seduce you: but then I'm confident you are so throughly groun­ded [Page 137] in the Principles of your own Church and Religion, that they can never make any Advances upon you: however a kind Caution can do you no harm, if you should never have any occasion to make use of it.

Then for Caballing and Embarking your self with Parties and Factions, 'tis a Dangerous bewitching thing, and so many Worthy Gentlemen have been ruin'd by it, that I think 'tis utterly needless to descend into Par­ticulars. I'm sure it ought to be Matter of the saddest Reflection to all who have been any Way involved in it. It being a most direful Account that they will at last have to make, for being the Unhappy Authors of such miserable Disorders.

But, Sir, I will not spend more of your time in these (I hope) needless Observations and Reflections; you'll doubt­less soon perceive from the stupendious Fate of vast Multitudes; how you are to order your self in these several Particulars, and to them I referr you for your full and ample Satisfaction.

LETTER XVIII.

SIR, Having drawn you a Rough Draught of the Men and Things of the Town, I presume you'll pardon it among the rest of my Impertinencies if by way of Conclusion I trouble you once more with a few short and general Di­rections how to dispose of your Estate in your Absence, and of your self when you come to London: The former is as essentially necessary as the latter, and if you fail in either, I can see nothing in the Reverse of your Expedition but flat Ruin and Destruction.

[Page 139] As for the Disposal of your Estate 'tis the Grand Basis upon which all the rest of your Affairs must move; so that un­less you leave that both under a faithful as well as a prudent Managery, let your Success in Town be what it will, you'll have but a bad Return for your Venture in the Winding up; but then the Grand Query is, how this may be settled with the most Ease and Conveniency to your self, the least Trouble to your Friends and Servants, and the greatest Satisfaction and Advantage to all your Tenants, Neigh­bours and Dependants.

In Order to which, I think, in the first place, it will be highly necessary for you to be your own Auditor, to take a month­ly Survey of your Respective Accounts, and to ballance your Expences with your Receipts, and to square and proportion 'em both according to the true Value and Nature of your Revenue.

'Tis true some of our high-bred Gentry look upon this as a Reflection upon their Character, and that the Oversight of their Estates is not only a Business too burthensom but likewise too mean for [Page 140] 'em. What Reasons they can give for it, I must confess, I'm a Stranger to.

Methinks it should be rather a Diver­tisment, and a proper and advantageous Method for 'em to dispose of some of those spare Hours, whose Emptiness would be­come their Load, and probably of no small Pain and Cost, and perhaps Incon­venience too.

Next to this, your Business will be to procure an honest ingenious Man for a Steward, a Person that will neither be tempted by Avarice or Interest, or seduc'd by Necessity, to betray your Concerns or imbezle your Effects; he should be nei­ther soure in his Conversation, nor im­perious in his Behaviour, not bitter nor pressing upon your Tenants, and yet watchful and sedulous to keep 'em within the moderate Bounds of their Leases and Agreements, and withal, careful to re­strain 'em from running too far in Ar­rears, which commonly terminates, not only in the Ruin of themselves, but in the manifest Loss and Inconvenience of the Landlord.

[Page 141] A Steward should be a Person (if you can find such a one) that is remarkable for the discreet Government of himself and his own Affairs, he ought to be a tole­rable Master of Accompts, and well skill'd in the useful Art of Husbandry, and in the manner of Country Dealing and Comerce, but above all, he should be ab­stracted from all manner of Selfishness and mercenary Designs, and be acted purely by true Principles of Love, Justice, and Gratitude.

Next to Him, a provident House-kee­per will be extreamly requisite, and she, indeed, should have most of the Qualifica­tions of the Steward; she should be discreet and faithful, affable, modest, meek and Compassionate; she should be free from the little Vanities of Gossiping and Talebearing, too common to her Sex.

Your House should be her only Empire, and the calm and peaceful Government of it, her highest Ambition; she should have no Ends, nor, indeed, no Business of her own, to disturb or take her off, but be con­stantly vigilant to observe and restrain the Irregularities of the Family, and not more [Page 142] neither by her Advice and Reproof, than by the President of her own Calmness, De­cency and Moderatiou.

Besides these, you'll want an indu­strious Gardiner and a careful Groom, the one to take Care of your Fruit and Flowers, and to preserve your Walks and Arbors from running to Ruin and Dis­order; and the other to manage and re­gulate your Horses, &c.

Now, if you could thus equip your self, which, I confess, will be very diffi­cult for you to do, you'd be however se­cure, that when you have tir'd your self with the Follies and Vanities of the Town (which I believe, or, at least, hope will be in a very little time) your Affairs in the Country are in a good Posture, and thither you can return and rest your self, out of the Reach of the Hurry and Impertinence of it.

And, now Sir, the next thing will be to manage your self with Advantage and Security when you come to Town. I have shew'd you already the Rocks that you are in most danger to Split upon, and the Vices, Follies and Dangers, which, as a [Page 143] Gentleman and a Stranger, you are per­petually liable to be encountred with; and because my present Design hath made them my peculiar Province, I shall wave all others, and only address my self to you for a Conclusion, in a passionate Ad­monition and Request or two, which I presume you will either grant or pardon, if not both.

And first, I prssionately advise and request you not to plunge your self into the Society of Strangers. I have told you that before, and I must tell it you again, and indeed I can never tell it you too often, that the Generality of the Mis­chiefs of this Town are deriv'd to us upon that Account.

Secondly, let me again admonish you not to take Men and Things upon Trust, but first to weigh 'em soberly and delibe­rately, to bring 'em home to the Tribunal of your own Reason, Conscience and Ex­perience, before you pass your Judgment or make your Option.

This Town is sway'd purely by a Spi­rit of Falshood and Contradiction, or what's as bad, by Spite, Faction or In­terest; [Page 144] so that if you take things naked­ly without comparing them with the na­tural Rules of Truth and Probability, you lie open to be impos'd upon by an endless Repetition of Falshoods and Im­postures.

Mr. Cowler's Wish lies always before you; a few Friends, and a few Books, and both true and well chose, are all you want, and indeed, your only proper and accep­table Companions for this Town.

To sum up all, I hope you will not esteem it an uncivil Address, to put you in mind of your Character, by your Birth, Education and by your Estate too; you are a Gentleman, and then I think I need not tell you what it is that is your most adorning Accomplishment: 'tis Vertue, Sir, and 'tis that and nothing else can add a Lustre to your Title. 'Tis that alone can refine and sublimate your Pleasures, and give a long and glorious Splendour to your Quality.

London, January 10th. 1699.

Farewel.