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JPIujiMBier and Bremia, PrinUrt, Love^Lanet IMHe Eaatcheap. 



OR. A 











VOL. xir. 







VOL. XI r. 


Tbe Old French Way of managing Treaties. 

Snbruii amulot 

Kegei munerihu, Horace. 9 

Tbe Natural History ofCoflfee, Thee, Chocolate, and Tobacco, in four 
several Sections: With a Tract of Eider and Juniper-BerrieSy 
shewing how usefal they may be in our Coffee-Houses : And, also, 
the Way of making Mum, with some Remarks upon that Liquor. 
Collected from the Writings of the best Physicians, and Modem 
Travellers. From a Quarto,^containing thirty-nine paces ; Printed 
at London, for Christopher Wilkinson, at the Black Boy, over 
againstSt.Danstan's Church in Fleet-street, 1682 .... 20 

A Descent from France : Or, The French Invasion of England con- 
sidered and discoursed. London, 1692. Folio, containmg half a 
sheet - ------.-,38 

Admiral Rnssel's Letter to the Earl of Nottingham : Containing an 
exact and particular Relation of the late hapny Victory and Success 
against the French Fleet Published by autnority. In the Savoy, 
printed by Edward Jones, 1692. Folio, containing eight pages 42 

The Character of an Honest and Worthy Parliamenfc^an. A Folio 
half Sheet. No date 47 

A Private Letter, sent fr«m one Quaker to another ..... 49 

A View of the Reign of king Charles the First : Wherein the true 
Causes of the Civil War are impartially delineated, by strokes 
borrowed from Lord Clarendon, Sir Philip Warwick, H. UEstrango 



and other most authentick and approved Historians. London. 
Printed in Quarto, containing twenty-eight pages - - . . . 50 

A true Description and Direction of what is most worthy to be seen in 
all Italy, orderly set down, and sure in Manner, as that the Traveller 
may not oversee or neglect any thing that is memorable in those 
Countries, but may compass that Journey at an easy and reason- 
able Charge, and in a short Time, signifying how many miles from 
one place to another, as foUoweth : First, what is to be seen prin- 
cipally in Venice, and from thence to Rome, Naples, Sicily, and 
until you come to Malta, from thence back again another way to 
Genoa, and Milan. M3. -.«-.... 73 

Brief Notes on the Creed of St. Athanasius. Quarto, containing eight 
pages - 130 

The Parlement of Byrdes. Imprynted at London, in Paules Churche 
Yarde, at the Synge of the Lambe, by Abraham Uele. In Black 
Letter, Quarto, containing fourteen pages -..••... 139 

An Essay on the Theatres : Or, the Art pf Acting. In Imitation of 
Horace's^ Art of Poetry. MS. Never before printed. 

Ex Noto fictum carmen. Hor. 146 

Nennius, A Worthy Briton, the very Pattern of a valiant, noble, and 
faithful Subject, Encountering with Julius Caesar, at his first Coming 
into this Island, was by him Death-wounded ; yet nevertheless he 
got Cfesar's Sword, put him to Flight, slew therewith Labienus, a 
tribune of the Romans, endured Fight till his Countrymen won the 
Battle, died fifteen Days after. And now encoura^eth all goo<l 
Subjects to defend their Country from the Power ot foreign and 
usurping enemies. About the Year before Christ, 69. MS. - 15r 

The Nine Worthies of London : Explaining the honourable Exercise 
of Armesy the Vertucs of the Valiant, and the memorable At- 
tempts of magnanimous Minds ; pleasant for Gentlemen, not vn- 
seemelvfor Magistrates, and most profitable for Prentises. Compiled 
by Richard lohnson. Imprinted at London, by Thomas Orwin, for 
Humfrey Lownes, and are to be sold at his Shop at the West Doore 
of Paules. 1592. In Black Letter. Quarto, containing forty-eight 
pages -------------------- 164 

The Levellers : A Dialogue between two young Ladies, concerning 
Matrimony, proposing an Act for enforcing Marriages, for the 
Equality of Matches, and taxing single Persons. With the danger 
ofCelibacy to aNation. Dedicated to a Member of Parliament. 
London : Printed and sold by J. How, at the Seven Stars in Talbot 
Court, in Gracechurcb-slreet, 1703. Quarto, containing thirty-two 
pages, -- ----------------- 193 

Tic Secret History of the Calves-Head Club, or. The Republican Un- 
masked : Wherein is fully shewn the Religion of the Calvesr-Head 
Heroes, in their Anniversary Thanksgiving Songs on the thirtieth 
of January, by them called Anthems, for the Years 1693, 1694, 
1695, 1696, 1697; now published to demonstrate the restless, im- 
placable Spirit of a ccrtam party still among us, who are never to 



be satisfied, till the preient Establishment in Church and State is 

Ditcite juititiam moniti, 4* ^^^ temnere divoi* Viao. 

London, printed and sold by the Booksellers of London and West- 
minster, 1703. Quarto^ containing twenty-two pages - - - fii5 

The Method of curing the Small Pox, first written in the year 1704, for 
ihe Use of the noble and honourable family of March, by Dr. Arch. 
Pitcaim. Folio, containing one page --------- 226 

A good Expedient for Innocence and Peace. Being an Essay concern- 
iDg the great usefulness and advantage of laying aside publick Oaths. 
Edinbargh, printed by Mr. Andrew Symson, 1704. Quarto, con- 
taining sixteen pages --------------- 228 

The Declaration of the most Christian king of France and Navarre, 
against the most horrid pioceedings of a rebellious party of Parlia- 
ment-men and soldiers in England, against their king and country. 
Translated out of French byP.B. 238 

Some Reasons for an Annual Parliament, as the best security for Eng- 
lish Rights. Together with the qualifications required in a good 
member of Parliament. Offered to the consideration of all electors 
of Parliament-men. Quarto, containing eight pages ... - 239 ^. 

A Catalogue of Petitions, ordered to be drawn up and presented to the 
honourable House at the next session. Quarto, containing four 
pages ---------- --- 247 

How to advance the Trade of the Nation, and to employ the poor. 
Folio, containing four pages -- ---------- 250 

The State Gamesters; or, the Old Cards new packed and shuffled. 
Foho, containing two pages ------------- 255 

A Catalo^e of Books, of the newest fashion, to be sold by auction, at 
the Whigs Coffee-house, at the sign of the Jackanapes, in Prating- 
alley, near the deanery of St. Paurs. Quarto, containing eight 
pages 257 

A Letter firom a Country Clergyman to his Brother in the neighbour- 
hood, touching some reproaches cast upon the bishops. Quarto, 
containing eight pages «-------^-..... 262 

An Account of the Original of Writine and Paper, outt>f a book, en- 
titled. La Libraria Vaticana, written by Muntia Pansa, keeper of the 
said library. Printed at Rome. Quarto, containing thirty pages - 273 

The Character of a certain great Duchess deceased, by a certain great 
Poet lately deceased. Mi, - -.--.-..... ^78 

A Diseouerie of the Treasons practised and attempted against the 
Queenes Maiestie and the Realme, by Francis Throckmorton, who 
was for the same arraigned and condemned in Guyld-hall, in the 
Citie of London, the one and twentie day of May last past, 158 i. 
QiartOi contalniog twenty-eight pages - -279 

viu covTEirrs. 

Tbe true Cop)r of a Letter, sent from the most Reverend William, 
Lord Archbishop of Canterbury to the University of Oxford, when 
he resigned his Office of Chancellor. Published by Occasion of a 
- base Libel and Forgery, that runs under this Title. And also the 
Answer of the University to the said Letter. Oxford, Printed by 
Leonard Lichfield, Printer to the Uuiversityi Anno Dom. 1641. 
Quarto, containing twelve pages ---.-----. 28t 






Submit (tmulos 

Reges muneribiu^ Horace*. 


Since yoa tell me that you do not well understand French, especially 
that old dialect, which Comioes wrote; and that you are willing to 
have an account of the treaty which was made betwixt our Edward 
the Fourth and Lewis the Eleventh of France, by the intervention of 
some mean fcIlo%vs; and that you desire lileewisc to be informed of 
the intrigues of the great constable of France, who played with all 
sides, aiid was the chief trickster of that time; I am willing to oblige, 
you, and am satisfied you will be pleased with the divenity of tccocB 
that the story presents to your view. 

THAT treaty, which Comines gives an account of so much to the 
dishonour of our nation, was first set on foot to publick appear- 
ance by an ordinary feUcfw^ servant to a gentleman of the French King's 
houshoid, who had not above twenty crowns salary per annum, himself; 
therefore, 1 can suppose the servant to have been no more than a foot* 
man. This fellow was takeh near St. Quintin, by the English, when 
they marched up to the town in hopes of being received into it without 
opposition, according to promise by the Count de St. Paul, GrecT 
Constable of France, who was the chief trickster of his time, but lost 
his head for it at last, as you shall hear in its place. The footman 
being brought before King Edward the Fourth, and the Duke of Bur- 
g;uDdy, one of the predecessors to the house of Austria, who was his 
ally in this war against France, they examined him ; after which the .« 
King ordered him to be set at libertyi since he was the fint prisoner theig** *. 


had taken in this expedition. As the fellow was going, the Lord 
Howard and Stanley give him a noble, and bid him in the stile of those 
times recommtnd them to the good grace of the King his master^ if he 
could have acceas to speak to him. 

The fellow made haste to the French King, who was then at Com- 
pie^ne, and found access to deliver the message. Lewis XL took him 
at first' for a spy, because his master's brother was in the service of the 
Duke of Britany, who was also in alliance with the King of England 
and Duke of Burgundy, and therefore ordered him to be kept in custody 
that night. Abundance of people had liberty however to talk with 
him, and finding him speak with ao much assurance, they gave it as 
their opinion, that the Kini; ought to allow him a further hearing. 
Next morning bctimc^the Kingsent for him, and, after examining him 
more thoroughly, ordered him still to be kept in custody. 

As the King went to dinner, he was full of thoughts about this matter, 
whether he should send to the King of England or not ? And, before 
he sat down, whispered Comines i^ the ear, that he remembered the 
English herald had told him, that, when the King of England landed, 
he needed not send to him for a pass-port, but might direct any messen- 
ger to the said Lords Howard and Stanley. [This mystery you will find 
unravelled in the course of the story.] The King, having spoke thus, 
sat down, and ruminating a little, he whispered again to Comines, bid 
him rise up, and seek for one who was servant to the Lord Halles, and 
ask him if he durH undertake to go to the English army in the habit of 
an herald; Comines found out the man, and asked what the King com- 
manded him, but was perfectly amazed when he saw the fellow, for he 
had neither mein nor behaviour fit for such an undertaking, nor had 
the King ever spoke to him but once; Comines owns though, that the 
man had sense, and a very graceful and smooth way of speaking. The 
servant was so much surprised when Comines spoke to him, that he fell 
on his knees as if he would have dropped down dead, so that he had 
much ado to keep him from falling into a swoon, the proposal was so 
amazing to one in his circumstances. Comines, to encourage him, 
promised him a post and money, find told him, that he needed not bo 
afraid, for the motion came from the English, kept him to dine with him, 
and instructed him what he should do. In the mean time the King 
sent for Comines, who gave him an account of the man, and advised 
Wm to some others that he thought more proper; the King would not 
hear of this, but went and talked with the fellow himself, and having 
animated him by promise of a great reward, he taught him his lesson; 
but was so hard put to it to rig him out on a sudden, that he was forced 
Id take a banner from one of his trumpets, to make him a herald's coat, 
and to borrow a badge from a herald belonging to the admiral, fur the 
King had none of his own there, and so mounted him with his habili- 
ments, put up in a fine bag fixed to the bow of his saddle, till he should 
come to the English camp, which was but eight miles distant. Thus he 
iient him a-going unkriown to any body but Comines, and the Lord 
Vi liters, his roaster of the horse. 

'. The fellow, according to instructions, came to the English camp, 
llpd, putting on his coat of armS| was brought to the King's tcot; told 


those in waiting, That he woi sent from the King of France to the King 
of' England, and xdos ordered to address fumselfto the Lords Howard and 
Stanley to be introduced. The King being at dinner, this new vamped 
herald was carried to another tent, where he had his belly-full of more 
substantial food than French kick-shaws; end, when the King had 
dined, the herald was brought before him, and delivered his message 
thus: ** The King of France had of a long time coveted his Majesty's 
friendship, aUd that their two realms might live in peace ; that, since 
his master came to the crown, he had never undertaken any war directly 
against the King, or King of England; and, though he had entertained 
the Earl of Warwick, it was only against the Duke of Burgundy, and 
not against hire. He likewise said, that the Duke had invited hi$ 
Majesty beyond sea, only that he might be able to make the better terms 
for himself; and that the rest of the allies, who concurred with him, had 
done it to retrieve their own ajfairs, and to gain their particular ends : 
That the winter now drew on; that his master, the King of France, knew 
his Majesty had been at great expence, and thai there were many in Eng* 
land, both of the nobility and gentry, &c. who were eager for war at 
home, in favour of the pretenders of Lancaster ; but, if the King of Elng- 
land would listen to a treaty, the King his master would do all that was 
possible on his part, that both he and his kingdom should have satisfaction^ 
and that he might be more thoroughly informed of matters. If he wouldj. 
grant a passport for an hundred horsemen, the King of France wouv 
send ambassiEKlors to him fully instructed ; or, if the King of England 
had rather that they should meet at a village, halfway betwixt both 
armies, the King of France would readily agree to it, and send passports 
on his side." 

The King of England, and part of his groat men* liked these pi^ 
posals very well, and gave this supposed herald such a passport as he 
desired, and a present of four nobles; they also sent a herald with him, 
to get the King of France's passport; and next day there met in a village 
near Amiens, on the part of the French King, the bastard of Bourbon, 
the admiral, the Lord St. Peter, and the Bishop of Eureux ; on the 
part of the King of England, my Lord Howard, Mr. Chalanger, Dr* 
Marten, Chancellor of England, and the Archbishop of Canterbury. 

Thus, Sir, you see the treaty so far advanced by a footman ; for I 
can suppose a gentleman who had only twenty crowns, or 4l. 10s. per 
annum salary, was not able to keep a sei-vant of a higher station, and 
a valet de chambre, for so we must account of this new vamped herald at 

f come next to tell you how a nine years truce was concluded 
betwixt Edward the Fourth and Lewis the Eleventh, notwithstanding 
atl the endeavours used by the Duke of Burgundy and his gther allies 
against it. 

The French vtdet de ehambre having thus performed his part, he was 
rewarded with a post and money, and the day after the ambassadors on 
bi)th ndes met; the English (says Comines) demanded, according to 
custom, the crown of France, or, at least, Normandy and Guienne. 
They made a vigorous attack, and the French made as brave a defence; 
bowevfry tbe tefy ftnt day of meeting,, they^ began to come within ken 


of one another, for both sides were eager for a peace* At last, the 
demands of the English terminated in 70,000 crowns, to be paid down 
before they marched off. That Lewis the Eleventh's son should be 
parried to King Edward's daughter, and that the duchy of Guienna 
should be given to King Edward, or 50/)00 crowns paid him annually, 
in the Tower of London, for nine years; after which, Guienne was to be 
peaceably enjoyed by the prince and princess above-mentioned. Some 
other articles there were, relating to trade, &:c. which are not worth 
mentioning; and there was room left for the allies on both sides to come 
into this treaty, if they pleased. Nay, the King of England was so 
forward, that he offered to givu the French King an account in writing, 
of several of his own subjects, who were tray tors to his crown and 

The French ambassadors having reported these things to Lewis the 
Eleventh, he was extremely rejoiced^ and called a council upon it ; at 
which Comines was present. Some were of opinion that the English 
dissembled, and that there was fraud couched under the proposals; 
which proceeded, I suppose, from the extraordinary forwardness that 
appeared in the English court towards a peace. But the King of 
IVancc was of another opinion, because of the advanced season, thai, 
the English had not one place of retreat in their hands. That there 
was a misunderstanding betwixt them and the Duke of Burgundy, 
Upd that the King knew our EdW)ard the Fourth was wholly given up 
to his ease and pleasures ; and as to the constable of France, though 
the King knew him to be a trickster, yet he was sure he would deliver 
vp none of the places he had promisi*d to the Duke of Burgundy and 
the English, because the King, being jealous of him, kept fair with 
bim, and was continually sending messengers, with fine words and large 
promises, to keep him from doing any mischief. Therefore it was con- 
cluded to raise the money demanded by the English with all possible 
<pecd, and to borrow it from those that were able to lend; for the 
King was resolved to be rid of the English at any rate, and rather to 
baiard all, than to suffer them to get get footing in the kingdom of France, 
which they were just ready to enter. 

Comines, being sensible that this was a very mean submission on the 
part of the French King, excuses it thus : That he km w what mis- 
chiefs the English had formerly done in France, and knowing the 
danger of his own circumstances t'rom the Duke of Britany, and others, 
that were ready to raise commotions in the bowels of the kingdom, he 
wisely chose this part, as the only means left him to disappoint the 
desifl[itt of the Duke of Burgundy, and the other confederates. 

The constable of France perceiving the treaty to be near concluded, 
and being sensible that he had tricked with all sides, he sent his secre- 
tary, and one of his gentlemen, to the King, with proposals to break off 
the treaty. At the same time one of the Duke of Burgundy's gentlemen, 
who had )>ecn taken before Arras, was let go on his parole to procure 
bb ransom, and promised a great sum by the French King, besides being 
let go ransom-free, if he could bring his master to a peace. He hap- 
pened to return the very same time when the constable sent his servants 
to the King of FrancC| who improved the opportunity thus. He pmt 


thcDuke of Burgundy's gentleman and Comines, behind a large screen 
in his own chamber, and called in the constable's secretary and gentle- 
man, that the Duke of Burgundy's servant might hear their proposals, 
and report them to his master, which be doubted not would have a good 
effect. The constable's servants began their discourse, and told tho 
French King that their master had sent several times to persuade the 
Duke of Burgundy to break with the English, and found him so much 
incensed against the King of England, that he had almost gained him 
not only to desert them, but to fall upon them as they retired; and, 
the better to please the King, one of the constable's servants acted the 
Duke of Burgundy before him, stamped with his foot against the ground, 
swore by St. George, which was the duke's usual oath, and called the 
King of England Blayborgne, the bastard of a beef*eater of that name, 
and all the other reproachful names which he could invent. The Freneb 
King laughed heartily, and, pretending to be thick of hearing, bid the 
fellow repeat it, and speak out louder; which he did with a very good 
grace. The conclusion of their message was, that the constable advised 
his Majesty to make a truce with the English, to avoid the dangers 
which otherwise threatened him from the allies, and to grant the King 
of England a little town or two for winter-quarters, pointing at Eu and 
St. Valery ; and added. That the constable was sure this would please 
the English ; and for his part he would be guarantee they should keep 
the treaty. The French King having gained his end, which was to let 
the allies know the constable's knavery, he answered his messengers 
very civilly, told them he would in a little time let his brother the con- 
stable know his mind, fur so he thought fit to call him, because he had 
married a daughter of Savoy, sister to the Queen of France ; and then 
dismiss'd them, after one of them had taken his oath that he would dis* 
cover every thing that he knew to be transacted against his Majesty*t 
interest. The King had much ado to dissemble his wrath at the con* 
stable's proposal to give the English those two towns, because he knew 
it was made on purpose to excuse himself at their hands for not deliver* 
ing them St. Quintin, &c. according as he had promised to the King of 
England and the Duke of Burgundy; but he concealed his displeasune, 
and sent a civil answer to the constable to keep him in suspense, and 
prevent his delivering up the towns under his government. When the 
constable's messengers were gone, the King called the Duke of Bur- 
gundy's gentleman (who had much ado to keep his patience when ho 
heard his master so much abused) and Comines, from behind the screen. 
The King laughed heartily, and was very merry, while the Duke's gen- 
tleman was in such a rage, that he could scarce be kept from taking 
horse immediately to acquaint his master with the constable's treachery* 
But the King prevailed with him to stay till he wrote down with his own 
hand what passed ; and the King writ to the duke, assuring him of tlie 
truth of what his gentleman Seigneur de Contay (for that was his name) 
had writ. The truce with England was concluded before this, on the 
terms above-mentioned, and an interview agreed on betwixt the two 
Kings; after which the King of England, upon receiving his money, 
was to return to his own country, and to leave the kord Howard and 
MnCheyney, who was master of his bonef at hostages behind him* 



A private pension of l6,000 crowns per annum was also promised to the 
Xing of England's servants. The Lord Hastings had 2000 per annum, 
the Lord Howard, the roaster of the horse, Mr. Chalanger, the Lord 
Montgomery, and others, had the remainder, besides good sums in hanci, 
and presents of plate to others of King Edward s servants. 

The Duke of Burgundy, being informed of this negotiation, came 
from Luxemburg in all ha^tc, attended only by sixteen horse, to the En- 
glish camp. King Edward was very much surprised at his coming in 
that manner, and, perceiving by his countenance that he was in a rage, 
asked him the reason. The Duke told him he came to speak with 
liim, and asked if he had made a peace. The King answered, he had 
made a truce for nine years, which he prayed him to agree to, since there 
ygBS room left for him, and the other allies, to enter into it. The I^uke 
fipbraided him, a& Hollinshed tells us, with this shameful treaty, and that 
be bad not so much as killed a fly, or burnt a sheepcote for his coming to 
france. That his glorious ancestor, King Edward the Third, behaved 
liimself otherwise, and would never make peace till he conquered France, 
was made regent of it, and declared heir apparent. That the said victo* 
lious prince was as near a-kin to him, the Duke of Burgundy, asthe King 
pf England was to King Henry the Fifth, whose blood he charged him 
with having destroyed; and told him, that 'he had agreed to a peace not 
worth a pease-cod.' That he did not invite him beyond sea, for any 
need he had of him, since he was able to revenge his own quarrel, but 
pnly to give him an opportunity to recover what had been unjustly ta- 
ken from him ; and, to let the King of England see that he did not value 
bis assistance, he scorned to enter into his truce, or to make any leagme 
with the French King till three months after King Edward was returned 
borne f and, throwing down his chair in a rage, would have been gone. 
But the King stopped him» and answering his reproaches with others, 
for which I refer to HoUinshed ; the Duke left him in a fury. Some 
of the King of England's council, who were against the peace, approved 
very much of what the Duke of Burgundy had said. 

I return now to the tricking constable. He, being (^fraid of the con- 
sequences of this treaty, sent his confessor, as Comincs and HoUinshed 
agree, with ^ letter to King Edward, praying him, for Ood's sake, not (o 
believe the French King, who would break his promise as soon as the 
King of England was returned ; and, rather than he should conclude a 
peace for want of money, he would lend him fifty-thousand crowns. 
Therefore he advised him to take Eu and St. Valcry for winter-quarters, 
and, before two months were over, he promised that he would take care 
his quarters should be enlarged. King Edward answered, he had al- 
ready agreed with the French King, and so left the constable in 

I come next to the interview between the Kings of England and 
prance, and the circumstances which preceded it. The King of En* 
gland, to ratify this peace, came with his army within half a league of 
Amiens* but they marched in such disorder, says Comines, as shewed 
they did iiot understaiid discipline. The French King viewed them 
from the gate of the town, and, though they were very numerous, he 
i^igbt easily have defeate4 thcwy had he thought it for bis purpose; |>u( 


bis desAgti wtt to treat them nobly, and to make peace with tbero at any 
rate, in onler to dissolve the alliance. He sent the King of England 
tbree-hundrcd waggon load of the best wine he could get, which, with 
their convoy, made as great a shew as the English army ; and, besides 
this, he ordered two very large tables to be placed at the entrance of the 
gato, with all sorts of provisions that would make them drink, and at 
each table there was the strongest wine in France, with six or seven French 
men of quality, of the fattest and largest that were in the kingdom, to en* 
tertain and please the English, who loved jolly companions and good 
cheer. The English came in great numbers, with their horse and arras 
to the town, without observing any order; and as soon as they ap- 
proached the gate, there were Frenchmen who took them by the bridle, 
and, pleasantly asking them to run at the lance with them, brought 
them to the tables, where they made them eat and drink en passant ^ and 
told them they might go into the town, and call for what they would, 
but should pay for nothing. This pleased them mightily, and thus they 
were treated for three or four days successively. They came in such 
numbers, that the Lord de Torcy and Cominestold the French King, it 
was dangerous to have so many enemies in the town, for they were at 
Ifast nine-thousand. Upon which Comines was ordered to mount ou 
horse-back, and to speak to the English captains about it, for the Kng 
would seem to take no notice of it himself. Comines did so, but, for one 
thai the captains sent back, there -were twenty came in their places; so 
that the King sent Comines again with a mareschal of France, to view 
their posture in the town, where they found most of them drinking, or 
asleep in the publick houses, and reported it to the King; who, though 
he thought there was no great danger, from men who observed so little 
order, commanded troops to be privately armed, placed some of them at 
the gate, and came himself to the porter's lodgp, where he invited the 
chief of the English to dine with him. The King of England, b<*ing in- 
formed of these disorders, was ashamed of it, and sent to the French 
King to suffer no more of them to enter the town ; to which Lewis the 
Eleventh answered, thathe would never do so, but if the King of England 
pleased, he might send his own guards to keep the gates, and to let none 
in but whom they thought fit. This was accordingly dune, and the 
town cleared of the English. 

To put an end to those disorders, the place of interview was agreed 
on, by gentlemen deputed on both sides. A wooden bridge was made 
on purpose over the Soame, with an apartment for the two Kings in the 
middle, and a barrier betwixt them. Comines observes, that the road 
by which the King of England came to the bridge was a straight cause- 
way, with a dangerous morass on both sides, whereas the French King 
had the country open on his side; from whence that author remarks, 
that ' the English are nothing so subtle as the French, and go very auk- 
wardly about treaties; but, being cholerick, those that deai with them 
must have patience, and not give them hard words.' I shall not insist 
upon the further particulars, but the interview was made. I'he French 
King came first to the barrier, and, leaning against it, the King of En- 
gland came up, took off his black velvet cap, adorned with a great flow- 
er-de-luce fet injewelsyand kneeled to the French King, who returned 



him a very low bow, and said to him, ' Cousin, you are very welcoma; 
There's no man in the world I desired to see so much as yourself; and, 
thank God, that wc are met here in so friendly' a manner/ The King 
of England, who spoke French well, made a suitable return in that lan- 
guage; and then the Bishop of Ely, who was chancellor of England, 
began his speech with a prophecy, (for the English are never without 
one, says Comines) the import of which was, ^ that Merlin had foretold 
there should be a remarkable peace concluded between England and 
France at that place/ After this, the articles were read and sworn on 
both sides. Then the French King said smilingly to King Edward, that 
* he mutt come to Paris, and feast with the ladies, and he would give hint 
the Cardinal de Bourbon for confessor, who would readily pardon him, 
if he happened to commit any slip/ King Edward laughed, for he knew 
the Caitlinal was a boon companion. Some dsuther discourse of this 
nature having passed, the French King ordered his own courtiers to re- 
tire, for he would speak with the King of England alone. The English 
courtiers retired, says Comines, at the same time, without expecting their 
King's orders; and when those princes had spoke a while ^together, 
the French King called for Comines, presented him to the K;ng of En- 
gland, and asked his Majesty if he did not know him ? Kiiig Edward 
owned that he did, and remembered the services he had formerly done 
bim at Calais. The French King asked King Edward what he would 
sdvise him to do, if the Duke of Burgundy, who had so haaghtily re* 
jected the treaty, continued in that mind f King Edward answered, he 
would offer it him once more, and, if he did not comply, they would 
consult about it. Then the French King asked him the same question, 
mbout theDukeof Britany. To which King Edward replied, that he 
desired his Majesty not to make war upon him, since he had been his 
chief friend, when he was forced to retire from England. Upon this they 
parted after very fine compliments, the French King to Amiens, and 
king Edward to his army. The Duke of Glogcester, the King of En- 
gland's brother, and several others, who did not like this peace, would 
not as!>ist at the conference; but they were induced to wait upon the 
French King afterwards, who presented them with plate and fine horses 
nobly accoutred. On the road to Amiens, the French King told Co- 
nines, that he did not like King Edward's being so willing to come to 
Paris, for he was a handsome prince, and loved women, so that he was 
afraid, if he came thither, he might find some lady that would tempt him 
to return again ; that his pqedecessors had been too often in Paris and 
>Iormandy, and that he did not care for their company on that side the 
laai though he loved to have them his friends in England. He was like- 
wise displeased that he would not abandon the Duke of Britany, hut 
urged it no further, lest he should have provoked him. When the 
French King returned to | Amiens, three or four Englishmen of qua- 
lity, who h^ promoted the treaty, came and supped with him, during 
ivhich, the Lord Howard whispered him in the ear, that, if his Majesty 
pleased, he believed he could prevail with the King of England to come 
and make merry with him at Amiens, if not at Paris. The French King 
n^ceived the quessagc with a pleasant countenance, but put it off by say- 
iftgf (hut be mi»t i^ike haste to observe tbo Duke pf Burgundy. The next 




Mj after tfaa treaty, abundance of English came to Amiens, aiid said, 
that the peace was made by the Holy Ghost, because a white pigeon 
perched upon theKmg of England's tent during the interview, and would 
not move from it, notwithstanding all the noise made by the soldiers. 
But the truth of the matter, says Comines, was told him by one of King 
Edward's own servants, viz. that there had been a great rain, and after 
that the sun shined out very hot, and the pigeon lighted upon the King^t 
tent, wliich was the highest, to dry itself. The same gentleman, who 
was a Grascoign, told Comines privately, that * he perceived the French 
Court made nothing but a jest of the King of England/ Comines asked 
bow many battles that Prince had won ? The Gascoign answered, he 
had g^ued nine in person. Comines asked further, how many he 
had lost? The gentleman answered, none but this, meaning the treaty, 
by which he said, he lost more honour, than he had gained by all 
the nine battles. Comines told this to the King of France, who there- 
upon said, the Gascoign vras a cursed son of a whore, and thatCominea 
most take care what he said to him. He afterwards sent him to in* 
vite that gentleman to dinner, which he accepted ; and the King offered 
him very great rewards, if he would take service under him, which the 
gentleman refused; but the King told him, he would take care of his 
brothers that were in Gascoign, made him a present of a thousand 
crowns, and Comines whupered him in the ear, that he should be well 
rewarded, if he would use his interest to entertain a good correspondence 
betwixt the two Kings. 

Lewis XI. resolved to take great care after this to say nothing that 
might give the English ground to think that he laughed at them ; yet, 
the very next day, when there were none but Comines and three or four 
more about him, he could not forbear laughing at the wine and other 
presents which he had sent to the English army; but turning about, he 
saw a Gascoign merchant in the room, who lived in England, and' w^ 
come to beg leave to carry over some wine custom-free. The King was 
* vexed, when he saw him, asked him who he was, and what estate he had; 
and, undrrstanding that he had no great matter, he gave him a post in 
Bourdeaux, granted him his demand, and presented him with a thousand 
franks, on condition that he should send for his family from Englandf 
and go no more there himself. 

Comines gives another instance of the King's care to avoid giving any 
offence to the English. A gentleman of our nation, seeing part of the 
Duke of Burgundy's guards, who came with his ambassadors to treat 
widi the King after he had been deserted by the English, said to Comines, 
* Had we known that the Duke of Burgundy was so well provided 
with troops, we should not so readily have agrmi to a peace.' I'he Lord 
of Narbonne replied, ' Were ye such fools as not to know that? Ye only 
say so now, but six-hundred pipes of wine and a pension from our King 
has sent you all a packing again to England.' 'The English gentleman 
broke out into a rage, and said, ' He perceived it now to be true what, 
he had often been told, that the French made their games at the En* 
glish ; hut, by St. George,' says he, what your King gave us is not a pen«^ 
^Q but a tribute.' Upon wiuch Comines interposed, broke off the dis* 




caune, turned it into « Jcil, aad told ihe King of it, who jbarplj 
rebuked the Lord of Narlionnc. 

I return again to the tricking constable, who finding, ihst lie had 
intircly duoblined the Duke of Burgundy, and the Kiu^ of England, 
firnt ono uf hJa chirf servants to beg of thp King, not to belitve all the 
ill that was said of liitn i and, to assure his Majesty o( hii lidcliry, he 
ofTered to prevail with the Duke of Burgundy lo (all upon the Knglish 
in their retreat. The messngu was delivered loCominre, and he reported 
ii to the Kinj, who, in the presence of the Loi'd Howard and the Duke 
of Burgundy's gentleman that had lurmerly overheard the constable's 
treacherous proposals, delivered a tetter to the constable's servant, and 
lold hira. That he teat lehn up abovt affnir* of griat concemmtnt, and 
stood in nerd <jf tuch an head at his matter's. The poor man thought it 
a very friendly answer; but, when he was gone, the King turned about 
to the gentlcrnan above mentioned, and said nii^rrily, / diduot intend to 
have the eonitablt'i body, for kit head it all I imnl. At the same tiros 
the King of England sent Lewis XI. two of the constable's private I ettere, 
with an account of all that he hod said and done against him ; so that 
those three princes conspired to takeoif this Irickslcr's head, which 
certainly he very well deserved, though it was below ihf character 
of the King of lingland and the Duke of Burgundy to become cvidenc a 
against him. 

It isliroenow to wind up thestorv in as few words 
tells US, that the King of England did n> 
for, before he came from Dover, he l>egan lo 
King; and thai he brought tiis armyovt 
"' ' 'because his pcopli 

Com i nee 
irdially in this war. 
It with the French 
France for the two foUow- 

? ragfT for a war against 


France, and the Duke of Burgundy pressed him to it. Secondly, That 
be might save most of the money which had been granted him hy the 
parliament for that war; and, the better to impose upon his subjects, 
ne brought with him twelve uf the principal commons of England, who 
had been the most zealous for the war, and contributed chieSy to raise 
(he money for maintaining it.' The King lodged them in good tents; 
but being corpulent men, and not accustomed to the fatigues of war, ' 
they hoped the King would soon have ended the matter by a battle, i 
}hi, Majesty, who never intended it, ' filled ther heads with doubts and ' 
fears as to the isaue of a battle, and managed matten so well, that he 
brought tbera to approve (he peace, and engaged them lo help in sup- 
prebsing the murmurs of his subjects upon his return; for there never 
was a greater and better appointed army sent from England to France.' 
But King Edward was not of a complexion to endure such fatigues as 
the conquest of that kingdom would have required; besides he was 
inighiy earnest for a match betwixt the dauptiin, afterwords Charles 
Vlll, and his own daughter, which made him dissemble oiatiy things 
that afterwards turned to the French Ktng*s advantage. 

All the English being returned home, except the hostages, the treaty < 
betivixt the French King and the Dxxke of Burgundy was brought to . 
bear by M, de Contay, that duke's gentleman formerly mentioned, and 
the King carried the English hostages to Vcrvins, where the treaty wu 
finished. 1'heKing uf England being informed of the negoliaiions, and . 


cnrafecl that the Duke of Burgnnd^ would not agree to this trace, sent 
Sir Tlionias Montgomeryy one of his fovouritesy to the King of Fan ce, 
to pray him'that he would make no other treaty with the duke than he 
bad done with him^ and particularly that he would not yield up St. 
Quintins. He proffered at the same time, if the King had a mind to 
oontimiethewar, that he would join him, next year, m person against 
tlie duke, provided the French King would pay half his army, and give 
bim an equivalent for the customs of wool at Calais, which was alMUf 
fifty-thounnd crowns per annum. Lewis XI. thanked the King for his 
nioffer, and told Sir Thomas, the treaty was already conciud^ ; that 
it was only for nine years, but the duke would have a particular treaty 
for himself; and thus making the best excuses he could, he made Sir 
Thomas a rich present of plate, and sent the English hostages home with 
bim. Thus Le^is XL thought himself well rid of the English, and did 
not care to see them any more on that side, the sea, lest they should 
have renewed their trea^ with the Duke of Burgundy. 

This prince was at fast rained by the intrigues of Lewis XI, who 
stirred up enemies against him on every side; and after his death he 
seized the Duchy of Burgundy, besides several places in Flanders. 
The King of England was the only prince capable to put a stop to Lewis 
Xlth's career, imd the heiress of Burgundy sent ambassadors to intreat 
his assistance, which the parliament came heartily into, and repre« 
sented to King Edward the French King's perfidiousness, and his breach 
of the above-mentioned treaty, in not concluding the match betwixt the 
Dauphin and bis daughter. But King Exlward being a heavy unweildy 
many and wholly addicted to his pleasures, he had no regard to their 
remonstrances ; besides, the pension of fifty-thousand crowns, paid him 
every year, was a bait for his avarice. And when he was oUiged to send 
wsAassadors vith sharp messages^ to please his subjects^ the French King 
always treated them welU took them fiffhy rich presentSy and gatned time, 
hf pretending that he would speedily send ambassadors with fuU msiruC' 
tions to give their master satisfattion : and at other times he proposed to 
share the Netherlands with imu But his chief trust was in the great 
number of pensioners he had in England, whom Comines names as 
follows: The lord chancellor, the master of the rolls, the Lord 
Hastings, who was great chamberlain, and in mighty favour with his 
master; Sir Thomas Montgomery, the Lord Howard, afterwards Duke 
of Norfolk; the master of the horse, Mr. Chalanger, and the marquis, 
son to the Queen of England, by a former marriage. To all these he 
gave great gifts beudes their pensions, and particularly to the lord cham- 
berlain, Hastings, a thousand marks of plate at once ; and the acquit- 
tances of all those pensioners were to be seen in the French King's 
chamber of accounts, says Comines, except those of the Lord Hast- 
ings who had formerly been a pensioner to the Duke of Burgundy, by 
Comines*s interest; who, knowing his weak side, advised Lewis XI. to 
purchase him in the same manner, for he was at that time a great enemy 
to France, and mightily pressed King Edward to assist the heiress of 
Burgundy; but Lewis Xi. bought him off, by doubling his pension. 
He sent it him by Mr. Cleret, master of his own houshold, and ordered 
)ui9 to take an acquittance for it, as he did Uom the lord chancellor. 


the lorJ high-admiral, the master of the horse, and otherst and as he 
had formerly done from th^ preceding lord chamberlain. But when he 
came to the Lord Hastings, and delivered him his message with the 
pension, that lord refused him an acquittance. The French gentleman 
insisted on it, and said, that his master might otherwise think he had 
cheated him, and not delivered the money. The Lord Hastings replied. 
That what he said was very just, but, since the money came by the 
King's free will, and not at his desire, he must put it into his sleeve 
without witness or acquittance; for it should never be said, that the 
great chamberlain of England was a pensioner of France, or that his 
acquittance should be found in the French King's chamber of accounts. 
Cleret was forced to comply, and, though Lewis XL was angry at first 
when he told him the story, he ever after esteemed the Lord Hastings 
more than any of his other English pensioners, and ordered his money to 
be paid him* without demanding any more acquittances. 

Thus, Sir, you have an account of this dishonourable treaty, how 
England was tricked by the French King's perfidiousness and cunning, 
bow our allies were abused and ruined, how the exorbitant power of 
France was founded, though England was in a capacity to have pre- 
vented it ; and how our country and parliaments were imposed upon,' 
to the perpetual dishonour of the nation, by the French King and his 




infswr tetral Steiiont ; 

With a Tract of Elder and Juniper-Berries, shewing how useful they 
may be in our Cofiee-Houscs: And, also, the Way of making Mum, 
with some Remarks upon that Liquor. Collected from the Writings 
of the best Physicians, and Modern Travellers. 

[From a Quarto, containing; tbirtf-nine Pftget, printe d at London, for Chris« 
topber Wilkinioii, at the Black Boy, over against St. Dunitan^s Church Iq 
Fleet-itreot, 1689.] 

Tke Natural History of Coffee. 

COFFEE is said to be a sort of Arabian bean, called boo, or 
ban, in the Eastern Countries; the drink made of it is named 
coava, or chaube, over all the Turkish dominions. Prosper Alpi* 


BOS * (who lived seyeral years in Mgypt) assures us, that he saw 
the tree itself, which he coinparvs to our spindle tree, or prick-' 
wood, only the leaves were a little thicker, and harder, besides con- 
tinually green f. This tree is foand in the desarts of Arabia, in 
some parts of Persia and India^ the seed, or berry, of which is called 
by the inhabitants buncho, bon, and ban, which being dried, and 
boiled with water, is the most universal drink, in all the Turkish, 
and several Eastern Countries, where wine is publickly forbid; it 
has been the most antient drink of the Arabians, and some I will 
have the jus nigrum Spartanorum^ i. e. The black broth of the Spar^ 
iwtSf to have been the same with our coffee. The Persians at this 
day do tipple as much cofl^ off, as the Turks themselves. Ta« 
vernierll in his description of Ispahan (the metropolis of Persia) is very 
jocose and merry, when he comes to describe the famous coffee-house of 
that cit}' ; he says, that the wise Sha Abas, observing great numbers of 
Persians to resort to that house daily, aiid to quarrel very much about 
state-affairs, appointed a mouUah to be there every day betimes to 
entertain the tobacco-whiffers, and cofiee-quaffers, with a point of law, 
history, or poetry; after which, the mouUah rises up, and makes pro- 
clamation^ that every man must retire, and to his business; upon which 
thej all observe the mouUah, who is always liberally entertained by 
the company. Olearius does also speak § of the great diversions, made 
in the cofiee-bouses of Persia, by their poets, and historians, who are 
seated in a high chair, from whence they make speeches, and tell 
iatyrical stories, playing in the mean time with a little stick, and 
the same gestures, as our jugglers, and legcrdemain-mcn, do in £ng« 

As for the qualities and nature of coffee, our own countryman, Dn 
l^i|lis, has published a very rational account **, whose great reputation 
and authority are of no small force; he says, that in several hcad-achs, 
disziness, lethargies, and catarrhs, where there is a gross habit of body, 
and a cold heavy constitution, there cofiee may be proper, and success- 
ful ; and in these cases he sent his patients to the coffe-house, rather 
than to the apothecary's shop ; but where the temperament is hot, and* 
kan, and active, there coflfee may not be very agreeable ; because it may 
dispose the body to inquietudes, and leanness. The doctor makes ona 
unlucky observation of this drink, which I am afraid will cow our 
dtisens from ever meddling with it hereafter, that it often makes men 
paralytick, and does so slacken their strings, as they become unfit for 
the sports and exercises of the bed, and their wives recreations; to 
confirm which, I will quote here two precedents, out of the most learned 
Okarius, who says, ft ^^^^ ^^^ Persians are of an opinion that coffee 
allays their natural heat, for which reason they drink it, that they may 
avoid the charge and inconveniences of many children; nay, the Per^i 
are so far ftt>m dissembling the fear they have thereof, that some of 

* AlpUuM de Plaat. fgrptiac. p. S6< t ThU tree la now vary common in genUeq)en*> 

■ l ioipt M in dM MMrtb or aagtand ; and EtMrnesor Af qsmI, esq. ef Bothonlf r««n, near 

doo. hat two of tbo largott and bealthieat, parchancc, in the nation. | Dr. Mundy do 

Potakniia, f. S61. V Taveraier't TavoU, p. 1. | Olaaiiiis*s Anbaaaadoi* TnmU of Pvnia, 

k^afcf £M. I-Dr. WUU9 ftesMSSt. iUl* ». tt ff 9kafiw> 4 »nHnidw » Tr»v» 



them have come lo tlie Holstein physician of that arobassy, for reroedief 
to prevent the multiplication of children; but the doctor, being a 
merry, bold German, answered the Persians, that he had rather help' 
them to get children, than to prevent them. Tliis most famous Oleanut 
(that made so many curious and accurate observations in his travels) 
tells us of a Persian King, named Sultan Mahomet Caswin, who 
reigned in Persia before Tamerlane's time, that was so accustomed 
to drinking of cahwa, or cofice, that he had an unconceivable aversion 
to women, and that the Queen, standing one day at her chamber 
window, and perceiving they were about gelding a horse, asked some 
standers-by, why they treated so handsome a creature in that manner; 
whereupon answer was made her, that he was too fiery and mettlesome, 
therefore they resolved to deprive him of his generative faculty. The 
Queeu replied. That trouble might have been spared, since cahwa, or 
cofiee, would have wrought the same effect, the experiment being already 
tried upon the King her husband. This King left a son, called Maho- 
met, after him, as our most grave and faithful traveller * does assure us, 
who, being come to the cniwn, commanded that great poet. Hakim 
Fardausiy to present him with some verses, for every one of which, the 
sophy promised him a ducat ; the poet, in a short time, made sixty 
thousand, which, at this day, are accounted the best that ever were 
made in Persia, and Hakim Fardausi esteemed the Poet Laureatof the 
£last« The treasurers, thinking it too great a sum for a poet, would 
have put him off with half; whereupon, Fardausi made other verses, 
wherein he reproached the King with avarice, and told him, he could 
not be of royal extraction, but must be rather descended from a shoe^ 
maker, or a baker. Mahomet, being nettled, made complaint to the 
Queen his mother, who, suspecting that the poet Lad discovered her 
amours, ingenuously confessed to the King her son, that, his father 
being impotent, through his excessive drinking of cahwa, or coffee, she 
fiiDcied a baker belonging to the court, and said, if it had not been for 
the baker, the young King had never been what he was; so, lest the 
business should take wind, the poet got his full reward. But let us 
Tetum a little into our old serious road. 

Coffee is said to be very good for those, that have taken too much 
drink, meat, or fruit, as the learned Schrgder t will inform you ; as 
also agpunst shortness of breath, and rheum ; and it is very famous in 
old obstructions, so that all the Egyptian, and Arabian women, are 
observed to promote their monthly courses with coffee, and to tipple 
constantly of it, all the time they are flowing; for which we have the 
undoubted authority of Prosper Alpinus t* who spent several years 
amongst them. It is found to ease the running scorbutick gout, or 
rheumatism, as Mollenbroccius has affirmed ||. 

As for the manner of preparing coffee, it is so easy, and so commonly 
known, that we need not mention it ; only we may observe, that some of 
the Asiatick nations make their coffee of the coat, or husk of the berry, 
which they look upon to be much stronger, and more efficacious, than 

• IdH» IbU. p. MO. ^ Schrodfli't Append, p. f 4. t Prosp. Alploos, de M*d. JEgfatof. 
l.S.dbflMt.J^9paM.■^UI^lui.p« MS. lMotl«a»rtck,d«Artbrk.lMf» KMMUf^lMk 


die berry itself, so that they take a less quantity of it; hot the Euro- 
peans do peel and take off the outward skin of the berries, which, being 
to prepared, are baked, burnt, and afterwards ground to powder ; ona 
ounce of which they mix commonly with a pint and a half of hot water, 
which has been boiled half away ; then they are dig^ted together, till 
th^are well united. 

The Laplanders * prepare a very good drink out of juniper-berries, 
which some prefer before either coffee, or thee f, of which berries, we 
will discoune in a tract at the end of these sheets. 

The Natural History of TheCf or Tea. 

SECT. 11. 

THIS herb, thee, is commonly found in China, Japan, and some 
other Indian Countries; the Chinese call it thee, the Japoiiians, tchia : 
That of Japan is esteemed much the best, one pound of it being com- 
monly sold for one-hundred pounds, as Tulpius informs | us from several 
great men, that have been ambassadors and residents in those parts ; so 
diat most of the thee, which is brought into Europe, comes from China, 
and that too of the worst kind, which cannot but decay in so long a 
voyage; for the Dutch have been observed to dry a great quantity of 
tage, whose leaves, being rolled up like thee, were carried into China 
by them, under the name of a most rare European herb; for one pound 
of this dried sage, the Dutch received three pounds of thee from the 
Chinese, as Thevenot informs || us. There is a great controversy amongst 
the herbalists, to what classis this thee may be reduced. Bontius § 
compares it to the leaves of our wild daisy ; for which Simon Pauli is 
very angry with him **, and gives very strong arguments, that thee is 
the leaves of a sort of myrtle, for, out of the leaves of myrtle, a liquor 
may be made, resembling thee in all qualities; therefore, the Jesuit 
Trigantius is of opinion fti that several of our European forests and 
woods do abound with a true thee, it being observed to grow in great 
plenty" in Tartary (which lies under the same climate with many coun- 
tries of Europe) from whence, some learned men think, it came ori«' 
gmally, for it has not been long known to the Chinese XU they having 
no ancient name, or hieroglyphick characters for thee, and cha being 
an ancient Tartarian word. Besides, it is known to several merchants, 
that a great quantity of thee is brought yearly out of Tartary into 
Persia ; and we arc all acquainted with the several great conquests ||| 
which the Tartars have made in China, so that the Chinese have had 
leveral opportunities of learning the use of thee from the Tartars, in 
whose country it is observed to be in great plenty, and of little value ; 
yet the inhabitants of China and Japan have a great esteem and opinion 

• RktsrytfLBpUod. f Or tea. t Nieol.TalpU 0bietVBt.M«d.lib.4.e. 60. | Olden- 
tonTt WOm. Ttmumtt. V. 14. | Bonthu da Medkina Indor. lib. t. p. 97. •• Simon P»ali, de 
Tbee. p. 19, SO. tt Trigantius, de Regno Chiiua, lib. >• t\ ttnoB FMli, d« Tbif, p. SS. 
H OtcMiMTt Ambattidoii InftU is f tnia, p. Stt. 


.•/ of it, where they are as much employed, and concerned for their harvest 

\^. of thee (which is in spring) as the Europeans arc for their vintage, as se- 

'% veral Jesuits inform us in their observations of China.* For the noble- 

* , men, and princes of China and Japan, drink thee at all hours of the 

day ; and, in their visits, it b their whole entertainment, the greatest per- 
}. sons of quality boiling and preparing the thee themselves, every palac« 

' and house being furnished witn convenient rooms, furnaces, vessels, pots, 

. ^ and spoons, for that purpose; which they value at a higher rate than 

y we do diamonds, gems, and pearls, as Tulpius f assures us, from the re- 

, ; lations of several great Dutchmen, who travelled China in the quality 

i , of ambassadors, and made great observations of those rich stones, and 

I ■ woods, out of which the aforesaid materials were made. 

As for the qualities and vertues of thee, these few following observa- 
tions may give satisfaction. That it makes us active and lively, and 
drives off sleep, every drinker of it cannot but be sensible. The great 
Jesuit, Alexander de Rhodes, always cured himself of a periodical pain 
of his head by thee |, and having often occasion to sit up whole nights 
in China, to take the confessions of dying people, he found the great be^ 
Defit of thee in those great watchings, so that he was always as vigorous 
and fresh the next day, as though he had rested all night ; nay, he says, 
that he sat up six nights together, by the assistance of thee. Kircher 
himKlf took notice of thee for clearing the head and opening the uri- 
nary passage || ; and it was observed by those concerned in die Dutch 
ambassy to China, that the Chinese did spit veiy little, and were seldom 
subject to the stone and gout, which their physicians imputed to theis 
frequent drinking of thee §. It is a common proverb in Japan : 

lUcne santts non sUf Bibit de optima Tsia? 

<' \Vhat is he not well? He drinks of the best thee**.* 

. », 

I know some that celebrate good thee for preventing drunkenness, 
taking it before they go to the tavern, and use it also very much after a 
dc'bauch, thee being found so friendly to their stomachs and heads. Se- 
veral ambassadors find the advantage of it in preserving them from the 
accidents and inconveniences of a bad foreign air ; but that, which gives 
4he greatest commendation to thee, is the good character which our fa- 
tnous countryman, Mr. Boyle, gives of it in his Experimental Philoso- 
phytt*, where he says, that it deserves those great praises which are com- 
monly bestowed upon it. Yet Simon Pauli exclaims Xt against the use 
of thee, as a great drier, and promotcz;Of old a^j^ au(). as a thing unnatu- 
ral, and foreign to the European compldkibns. ;OBut Schroder |||| an- 
swers Pauli very mildly, supposing him t» speak only of the abuse and 
extravagant management of thee; f^r otherwise rhubarb, china, sassafras, 
and Saunders should be banished from our shops, by the same reason, 

• PWIot.TraQMct K. 49. •(- Hicol. Tolpii Obf^rvat. M«d. lib. 4. c. GO. % Alesaadw d« 
Rhodes Voyage* et Mutionat Apottoliques. B Kircheri China illuttrata. lib. 4. $ Thereiiot. 
Hat«r. Legal. BaUvor. in China. Tom. S. Philoaoph. Transact. V. 14. •* Vareniua Descript. 
Recol Japoo. c. £3. p. 16I. ft Boyle*s Ezper. Philotopk. f*^ tt Simou Pkuli d« YliM« 
p. 91* %l Schrodtri Apptad. MlfhaoBacop. p* tt. 


thej being driersi and foreigp to us Lnglishiacn ; therefore, we majf con* 
chide thee innocent and beneficial* 

The Chinese gather tbe leaves in the sprrng, one by one, and, irnmedi'* 
ately; put them to warm in an iron kettle over the fire ; then, laying them 
on a fine light mat, roil them together with their hands. The leaves, 
thus rolled, are again hanged over the fire, and then rolled closer toge* 
ther, till they are dry ; then put up carefully in tin vessels, to pre- 
serve them from moisture. Thus they prepare tne best leayes,that yield 
the greatest rates ; but the common ordinary ones are only dried in the 
sun, yet in the shade is, doubtles?, much better (as the ingfnious author^ 
of Vinetum Britannicum does well observe) the sun having a ^reat powar 
to attract the vertue out of any vegetable after its separation from its 
,nourisher, the earth. One spoonful of this prepared thee is enough for 
one quart of boiled water. 

There are several ways and methods for preparing theef* The Ja< 
ponians powder the plant upon a stone, and so put it into hot water. 
The Chinese boil the leaves with water and a little sugar. Some Euro* 
peans make tinctures, infusiops, conserves, and extracts of thee. Tfao 
Tartars are observed to boil their thee in milk with a little salt, which 
way they think is the very best.} 

The inhabitajitsof Carolina prepare a liquor out of tbe leaves of an Ame" 
rican tree, which is very like thee, and equal to it in every respect. Dr. 
Mundy observes U that the inhabitants of Florida have an old custom, 
before they go into the field to war, of drinking a liquor in a great pub* 
lick assembly, which he that vomits up, is jucfged unfit for that warlike 
expedition, and is condemned- to stay at home in disgrace ; but, when 
he has learnt to carry off the liquor, then he is admitted to be a lawful 
suldier. Now thee itself, when given in a large dose, and in a strong de« 
coction, does often prove vomitive, as 1 myself have observed several 

Some make decoctions of the roots of Avens, Galanga, Coriander, 
Anniseeds,Sarsa, China, Saunders, of the leaves of Sage, Betony, Jioi»» 
mary, which they do extol above Thee or CofiSee. 

The Natural Hisiory ofChocohUt* 

SECT. m. 

Having given a short natural history of t^ things, which are so uni- 
versally used in the eastern parts of the world,^we now come to treat briefly of 
two more, which are generally used in the western. First, of chocolate, oS 
which tbe cocoa, or cacaw-nut, being the principal ingredient, a short ac« 
count of it cannot be improper. This nut, or rather the aced,or kernel of the 

- Tinet. Britan. p. 140. 4 Kicol, Tolpii QbMnrat. Med. Ub. 4. e. 00 tTlttvOMt 
Htsfepr. Lmst. aagic. ad Slottt<>aa Mcftoi. { Dr. Muudy dt PotoltBtb, p. S^a. . . 

▼OL. XII* C 


not, as Mr. Hughes observes*, is of the bigness of a great almond; in 
come of these fruiu there are a dozen, in some twenty, in other thirty, 
or more of these kernels, or cocoa's, which are wetl describeci by the in- 
genioQs and learned Dr. Grew f. When these kernels are cured, they be- 
come* blackish, and are compared to a bullock's kidney, cat into par* 
titions ; there is great variety in th'.*m, by reason of the difference of soils 
and climates where they grow. The tree is said to be a» large as our 
English plum-trees, the leaves sharp pointed, compared by some travel- 
lets io the leaves of cht*snut ; by the curious Piso to the leaves of an 
orange $; the flower of a saffron colour, upon the appearance of which 
the fruit appears upon the branches as apples ; this tree grows in seve- 
ral parts of America, as in Nicaragua, New Spain, Mexico, Cuba, and 
in Jamaica, especially al Colonel Barrington's quarters, or plantations|| ; - 
they prosper best in low, moist, and fat ground, and are as squarely and 
orderiy set, as the cherry-treees in Kent or Worc(*stershire ; they com- 
monly bear within seven years, and then twice every year; the first crop 
between January and February, the other between Alay and June. The 
inhabitants have so great a value for them, that they secure them with 
the shades of plantain and bonona-trces, against the injuries of their 
fiery sun, and do use the kernels instead of money, both in their traffick; 
and rewards; as the great jt-suit, Josrphns Acosta, observed, when he 
was sent into America^ The Indians look upon their chocolate as the 
greatest delicacy for extraordinary entertainments. Montezuma is saict 
to have treated Cortex and his soUliers with it ; and you can scarce read 
mn American traveller, but he will often tell you of the magnificent col- 
lations of chocolate, that the Indians offeivd him in his passage and 
joumies through their country > as Mr. Gage (who travelled many year» 
in America,) informs us, die Spaniards do constantly drink chocolate iir 
their churches at Mexico and Chiapa,of which they, being once forbid, 
did mutiny, and commit great outragi*s, till their custom was restored 
them^. ThelndiansandChristians^n theAnrericanplantations.havc been 
observed to live several months upon cocoa*nut9 alonr, made into a 
paste with sugar, and so dissolved in water; I myself have eat g^at 
quantities of ibcse kernels raw, without the least inconvenience; and 
have heard that Mr. Boyle and Dr. Slubbs have let down into their sto- 
Vmachs some pounds of them raw without any molestation ; the sto- 
mach seems rather to be satisfied than cloyed with them, which is an 
argument they are soon dissolved and digested. The Spaniards do not 
scruple to eat them upon their great fust -days. 

The Indians at first made their chocolate of the nut alone without any 
addition, unless sometimes pepper, and maiz, or Indian wheat ; and in 
Jamaica at this day, as Mr. Hughes observes ft* there is a sort oif choco- 
late, made up only of the paste of the cocoa itself; and this he esteems 
to be one of the U^t sorts of chocolate. Ur, StubbsJI, who was a great 
master of the chocolate art, did not approve of many ingredients bo- 


* Hugbn's Atneriean Physictan^p. lU. f Dr. Grew Mus. Keg, Soc. Angle p. SM. 
I Tbo in llistor. Nut. Indiar otriinqvt. I Hogtms't American PhjrtieUa, p. 118. ) Joe. 
.^co^ta. iD'ior. Hiscor. Lib. 4. c. C'i, ** 0»fe*iSurvey of the West-Indies, Cluip.of Chocolate^ 
X Ii*i^t)e»'i Amukao Phxiicien |» 11. tt Dr. Slubb>'s ladian Nectar. 



Milo the cocoa-nuti ; that chocolate, which the Doctor prepared for hit 
Majesty, had double the quantity of the cocoa kernel to the other in- 
gredients. In the common sort, the cocoa nuts may take up half the 
composition, according to Piso* ; in the wor^t, a third part only. As 
to the other ingredients for making up chocolate, they may be varied ac« 
cording to the constitutions of those that are to drink it ; in cold coo* 
stitutions Jamaica pepper, cinnamon, nutmegs, cloves, &c. may be mix** 
ed with the cocoa-nut; some add musk, anibergrease, citron, lemon« 
peels, and odoriferous aroma tick oils. In hot consumptive tempers yoa 
Riay mix almonds, pistacho's, &c. sometimes china, sarsa,and saunders; 
and sometimes steel and rhuburb may be added for young green ladies. 
Mr. Hughes gives us very good advice fy in tellins; us, that we may buy 
the best chocolate of seamen and merchants, who bring it over readv 
made from the West-Indies. His reason is none of the worst, which is 
this: Let the cocoa kernels be never so well cured in the West-Indies, 
and stowed never so carefully in the ship, yoi, by their long transporta* 
lion, and by thevarious airs of climates, they are often spoiled, their na- 
tural oiliness tending much to putrefaction ; from whence I have heard 
several complain in £ngland, that their chocolate, made up here, does 
ofbn prove musty, and will settle much to the bottom of the dish ; which 
b a certain sign, says the learned Dr. Stubbs^, that the nuts arc either 
faulty, or not well beaten and made up. The best cocoa-nuts are said 
to come from Carraca, or Nicaragua, out of which Dr. Stubbs prepared 
chocolate for the King ; yet the Doctor commends the cocoa-nuts of 
Jamaica, which were iirst planted there by the Spaniards. That you 
may l^now how to prepare your chocolate, I will give you a short direc- 
tion, if you intend to make it up yourself; consult your own constitu- 
tion and circumstances, and vary the ingredients according to the pre* 
mises, for I cannot give a receipt to make up the mass of chocolate 
which will be agreeable and proper to all complexions ; yet, in the com* 
position of it, you must remember to appoint the cocoa kernel for the 
fundamental and principal ingredient. As for the managing the cocoa- 
nut. Dr. Stubbs II, and Mr. Hughes §, have published most excellent in- 
structions, how you must peel, dry, beat, and scarce it very carefully^ 
before you beat it up into a mass with other simples. As for the great 
quantity of sugar which is commonly put in, it may destroy the native 
and genuine temper of the chocolate, sugar being such a corrosive salt, 
and such an hypocritical enemy to the body. Simon Pauli **,(a learned 
Dane) thinks sugar to be one cause of our English consumptions; and 
Dr. Willis ft blames it as one cause of our universal scurvies ; therefore, 
when chocolate produces any ill effects, they may be of^en imputed to 
the great superfluity of its sugar, which often fills up half its composi- 
tion. For preparing the drink of chocolate you may observe the fol- 
lowing measuR-s: Take of the mass of chocolate, cut into small pieces, 
.one ounce; of milk and water well boiled together, of each half a pint ; 
one yolk of an egg well beaten ; mix them together, let them boil but 

• PIto Kit. Histor. Indor. t ITaK^r**! AfOfficaii PhyticUn, p. 111. % Dr. Stvbto'f 
ladlan Hccttf^ « Id. ib. } Mr. lIufibM'i Amerkaa FbyikUo. "^ iiiMU P«uJt Quiri- 
|irt.BcCH. ttAtr.WiUbdtacoitoie. 


gently, till all is dissolved, stirring tbem often together with your mof* 
Ijricty or chocolate-ml!l ; afterwards pour it into your dishes, and into 
every dish put one spoonful of sack. 

As for the vertucs and cflfccts of the cocoa-nut, or chocolate, all * 
the American travellers have written such pancgy ricks, and so many 
experimental observations, that I should but degrade this royal liquor, 
if I should offer at any. Yet, I thrnk, two or three remarks upon It 
canpo.t be unsuitable to this little history ; several of these curious tra*' 
vellers and physicians do agree in this, that the cocoa nut has a wonder* 
All faculty of quenching thirst, allaying hectick heats, of nourishing 
and fattening the body. Mr. Gage acquaints Us fi that he drank cho* 
colate in the Indies, two or three times every day, for twelve years to^ 
ther, and he scarce knew what any disease was in all that time, km 

S rowing very fat. Some object it is too oily and gross, but then the 
ittemessofthenut makes amends, carrying Uie other off by strengtlien* 
jngof the bowels. Mr. Htighes informs { us, that he lived, at sea, for 
lume months on nothing but chocolate, yet neither his strength nor flesh 
were diminished; he says, our English seamen are very greedy of it, 
when they come into any Indian ports, and soon get plump countenances 
by the use of it. Mr. Hughes himself grew very fat in Jamaica, by 
yertue of the cocoa nut ; so he judges it most proper for lean, weak, and 
consumptive complexions; it may be proper for some breeding women^ 
and those persons that arc hypochondriacal and melancholy. The in- 
dustrious Dr* Mundy gives a notable example of -the effect of chocolate; 
he H says, that he knew a man in a desperate consumption, who took m 
great fancy for chocolate; and his wife, out of complaisance drank it 
often with him; the consequence was this, the husband recovered his 
liealth, and his wife was afterwards brought to bed of three sons at oua 

The great use of chocolate in yenery, and for supplying the testicles 
with a balsam, or a sap, is so ingeniously made out by one of our 
learned countrymen already, that I dare not presume to add any thing 
After to so accomplished a pen; though I am of opinion, that 1 might 
treat of the subject without any immodesty, or offence. Gerson, the 
jmye Roman casuist, has writ de Pollttthne Noctiima, and -some have 
defended fornication in the popish nunneries ; hysterical fits, hypochon- 
driacal melancholy, love-passions, consumptive pinings away, and 
spormatical fevers, being instances of the necessity hereof, natural in* 
stiilct pointing out the cure. We cannot but admire the great prudenca 
of Moses, who severely prohibited that there should be no whore among 
the daughters of Israel, yet that most wise legislator took great care for 
their timely marriage; upon these very accounts the Casuists defond the 
protcstant clergy in their marriages. And Adam is commanded in 
paradise to increase and multiply, therefore I hope this little excursion 
lis pardonable, being so adequate to this treatise of chocolate ; which, 
if Itachel liad known, she would not have purchased Mandrakes for 
: Jacob* If the amorous and martial Turk should ever taste it, he 

• Job. d« Ltet. instor. lodor. Pi»o Nat. IlUtor. Trntor. n«kww- 

lodor. Occid«'iit. dec. f Gage's Sarvey of th%Jff9$t In<li«t, chap, of Cbocolate. t Hv^MI^ 
.AQtricaa ft^jskiaa, p. 147* A Dr. Muady de Potoiestb, p. 190. 


.«ou1d xiespUe his opiuiD. If the Grecians and Arabians had ever tried 
itf they would have thrown away their wake-rubins and their cuckow* 
pintles; and 1 do not dotibt but you London gentlemen, do value jt 
above all your cuUisses and jellies; your anchovies^ Qononia sausages, 
your cock and lamb-stones, your soys, your ketchups and caveares, 
your cantharideSy and your wnitcs of eggs, are not to be compared to 
our rude Indian ; therefore you must be very courteous and favourabte 
to this little pamphlet, which tells you most faithful observations. 

The industiious author * of the Vinetum Briiannicitm makes a query. 
Whether the kernel of the walnut may not supply the defect of tlxe 
cocoa, if well ground? Dr. Grew thinks f, that for those that drinjc 
chocolatts at .coffee-houses, without any medicinal respect, there is no 
doubt, but chat almonds finely beaten, and mixed with a due prof 
portion ^f spices, and sugar, may be made as pleasant a drink as tl^t 
kiC cbocolate. 

The Natural HUtoty of Tobacao, 


TOBACCO is reckoned by the best herbalists to be a species, or 
•art of henbane, proper to the American regions, as Dodonseus and 
Simon Paul! t; y<^t some botanists will have it a native of Europe, and 
reduce it to several of our classes. But I will not trouble you with this 
controversy, only we may take notice, that Thcvet did first bring the 
seed of tobacco in France, though Nicot the French ambassador in 
Portug^ (from whom it is called Nicotiana) was the first that sent the 
plant itself into his own country. Heniandes dc Toledo, who travelled 
America, by the command of Philip the Second, having supplied Spain 
and Portugal with it before ||. Sir Francis Drake got the seed in Vir- 

«'nia, and was the first that brought it into England § ; yet some give Sir 
^alter Rawleigh the honour of it; since which time it has thriven very 
well in our English soil ; a great quantity of it grows yearly in sevend 
gardens about Westminster, and in other parts of Middlesex. It is 
planted in great plenty in Gloucester, Devonshire, and some other 
western countries; his Majesty sending every year, a troop of horse ib 
destroy it, lest the trade of our American plantations should be incom« 
moded thereby. Yet many of the London apothecaries make use of 
English tobacco in their shops, notwithstanding the vulgar opinion that 
diis herb is a native of America, and foreign to Europe. Yet Libavius 
issores us, that it grows naturally in the famous Hercynian Forest of 
Germany. If thb was true, we would no longer call it tobacco from 
the island of Tobago. The names of it are so various, as they would 
glut the most hungry reader. The Americans stile it picielt ; in Nova 
Francia^ petum; in Hispaniola, cozobba; in Virginia, uppuvoc; at 

• Vio^. Brltan. p. ISQ, 4Df. Grvw** Mm. Scg. Soe. p. flOS. t Dodonoras Verb^ 
m P»tili Qurdrip^it Botan. Ac Uth de Totecco. I Henaadea Hlitor* Aamkan^ I ror 
ra Vg yn aa wto Anarica* 

G 3 


Rome, bcrba sancta cracis ; in some parts of Italy, berba mediefa ; 
in France, herba reginae, as you may read in Magnenusand Neander^: 
Bat, let it be of wbat name or kind it will, I am confident, tbat it it of 
the poisonous sort, for it intoxicates, inflames, vomits, and purges; 
wbich operations are common to poisonous plants, as to poppies, night- 
bhades, hemlocks, monks-hood, spurges, and hellebores, that will pro- 
duce the like effects. Besides, every one knows, that the oil of tobacco 
is one of the greatest poisons in nature; a few drops of it, falling upon 
the tongue of acat, will immediately throw her into convulsions, under 
which she will die. This Dr. Willis assures f us t(f be true ; the expe- 
riment succeeded, when it was tried before the royal society, as the 
learned Dr. Grew has affirmed |; besides, I caii speak it upori 
my own certain knowledge, having killed several animals with a few 
drops of this oil. Yet that most sagacious Italian, Francbco Redi, 
observes || very well, that the oil of tobacco kills not all at^imals, nei- 
iher does it dispatch those, it kills, in the same space of ti(ne; there is 
a great difference between the tobacco of Brasil, and that of St. Chris- 
tophers, as to this effect. Varino and Brasil tobacco being almost of the 
' same quality and operation ; whereas that of St. Christophers, Terra 
Nova, Nieve, and St. Martin, has very different effects. 

If we run over those countries, where tobacco is made use of, we 
may observe the various manners of using it. Some Americans will mix 
It with a powder of shells, to chew it, salivating all the time, which, they 
£incy, does refresh them in their joumies and labours ; others in New 
Spain will dawb the ends of reeds with the gum, or juice of tobacco, and, 
setting thom on ^re^ will suck the smoke to the other end. The Virgi- 
nians were observed to have pipes of clay before ever the Engli^ came 
there §; and, from those barbarians, we Europeans have borrowed our 
mode and fiashion of smoaking. The Moors and Turks have no great 
iindness for tobacco; yet, when they do smoak, their pipes are very 
long, made of reeds, or wood, with an earthen head. The Irishmen 
do most commonly powder their tobacco **, and snuff it up their nos- 
trils, which some of our Englishmen do, and often chew and swallow 
it. I know some persons, that do eat every day some ounces of tobacco, 
without any sensible alteration ; from whence we may learn, that use 
and custom will tame and naturalise the most fierce and rugged poison, 
•o that it will become civH and friendly to the body. Wc read of a 
French ambassador ft* that, being in England, was so indisposed, that 
be could never sleep ; upon which he would often devour whole ounces 
of opium without being concerned. And the Turks are often observed 
to swallow great lumps of it, a tenth part of which would kill those 
that were not accustomed to opiates. I know a woman in this city, 
that, being used to take both the hellebores, will often swallow whoie 
scruples of them without the least motion, or opemtioix; so that custom 
and conversation will make the fiercest creature familiar. 

* Ma^of oat de Tobacco. Notnder Tabacalof . i Dr. Wi!lit Fharni. lUt. | Dr. OcM»% 
Miu. Reg. Soc. p. .15C. I Philoi. Traos. Oideohurgh N. 92. | Purchas't Voyuget to Am*> 
ffin. •• OUerve the origiiMl of thai MuaeoM aad uawliolosoiM coitom of uLiiw muff. 
It £pbea. Ovatt. uu U 


Asftirthectiltttfc, Inunresly prpparatioB, and traffic]^ of tobacco, I 
will recommend you to Neander, where, if you are curious, you mav 
■Met with satisfaction*. I cannot omit one story out of Monardus T» 
who tdb OS, that the Indian priests, being always consulted about tho 
evmts of war, do bum the leaves of tobacco, and, sucking into their 
BMNiths the smoke by a reed, or pipe, do presently fall into a trance, or 
extasy; and, at soon as ever they come out of it, they discover to the 
ladiaas all the secret nesotiation, which they have had with the great 
dasmon, always delivering ifome ambiguous answer. 

As for the qualities, nature, and ust'S of tobacco, they may be very 
consderable in several cases and circumstances ; though King James 
himself has both writ, and disputed very smartly against it at Oxford, 
and Simon Pauli % has published a very learned book against it. Some 
•Batonustsltell us mojt terrible stories of sooty brains, and black lungs, 
which have been seen in the dissections of dead bodies, which, whon liv- 
io^ had been accustomed to tobacco. We read that Amurath the 
Foarthdid forbid the use of it, over all the Turkish dominions, under tha 
most severe penalties; the Turks having an opinion amongst them, that 
tobacco will make them effeminate and barren, unfit for war and pro* 
creation ; though some think there is a politick design in it, to obstruct 
die sale of it, in the eastern countries, and to prevent the Christians from 
establishing] any considerable traffick, from so mean a commodity; 
winch, perhaps, may be one reason §, why the great Duke ** of Mus< 
covy has threatened to punish those merchants, who ofk'T to sell any to* 
hacco in his countries. Scach Abas, (the great Sophy of Persia) lead* 
ii^ an army against the Cham of Tartary, made proclamation, that, if 
any tobacco was found in the custody of any soldier, he should be burnt 
alive, together with his tobacco. Yet, for all this, it may be very bene* 
ficial to mankind, as you will conclude from what follows. 

Dr. WiUis ft recommends tobacco to soldiers, because it may supply 
the want of Tietuals, and make them insensible of the dangers, fatigues, 
and hardships, which do usually attend wars and armies ; besides, it is 
found to cure mangy and ulcerous diseases, which are frequent in camps* 
I know a curious lady in the north, that does very great feats in sores 
and ulcers by a preparation of tobacco. 0^r learned and most expert* 
enced countrymari, Mr. Boyle Jt, docs highly commend tobacco clys* 
tets in the most violent cholick pains, which are often epidemical in ci* 
ties and camps. The renowned Hartroan extols the water of tobacco, 
agunst agues IM: And the curious Dr. Grew §§ found the success of the 
oU of it, in the tooth-ach, a lint being dipped in it, and put into the 
tooth. The eSectB of tobacco have been very good, in some violent pains 
of the head; as some thousands have experimented. As for the daily 
smoaking of it, the state and circumstances of your body must lie the 
best guide and rule; if your complexion be lean, hot, and dry, it is an 
argument against it, but if cold, moist, and humoral, subject tocatarrhs, 
iheams, and pains, then there may be a temptation to venture upon 

. • KMAdrr Tabi^alof . i MmMi^n Lib, X, Exeticor. ClnA. t Simon PmU de Almtv 
Takafli. I Diwnefbrock. Anat. Herman. Paaviut. | Ol^tfiot, AmbMSadori TrmveU throagk 
Mmcovy. •« Or, Caw. H Dr. Willit Pb«mi. R»t. U Boyte** te pc r ina cnt iil PhiloMphj. 
k UmoMii pracChjou li Or.OfitYMus. ItBg.8oc. p. 8M. 



it. So every itian^most cbnsult bis own temperi and tlie experiente of 

A modern French author * bat writ a peculiar tract of tobacco, 
wherein he commends it in convulsions, in pains, and for bringing on 
sleep; heextokthe oil of it in curing deafness, being. injected into the 
ear in a convenient vehicle ; also against gouty and scorbutical pains of 
the joints, being applied in a linimeqt. A lixivium of tobacco often pre* 
vents the fdling off of the hair, and is famous for curing the fisrcy, or 
leprosy of cattle. 

The use tf juniper and eider-hnrries in our jmblick-kmisei. 


THESE two berries are so celebrated in many countries, and so higbt 
ly recommended to the world by several famous writers, and practir 
turners, that they need not desire any varnish or argument from me^ 
The simple decoctions of them, sweetened with a little fine sugar*candy, 
wiUafford liquors so pleasant to tbeeye,so grateful to the palate,and so be* 
neficial to the^body, thati cannot but wonder, after all these charms, thej 
bave not as yet been courted,and ushered into oar publick*houses« If they 
should once appear on the stage,! am confident,that}both the Whig andTory 
wpuld agree about them far better than they have done about the medal 
and mushroom ; nay the very Cynick and Stoick himself would fall ii| 
love with the beauty and extraordinary vertufs of these berries, which 
Me so common, and cheap, that they may be purchased for little or no- 
thing. One ounce of the berry, well cleansed, bruised, aiid n^ashcd, will 
be enough for almost a pint of water; when they are boiled together, 
the vessel must be carefully stopped ; after the boiling is over, ona 
spoonful of sug^-candy may be put in. 

The juniper-tree grows wild upon niany hiUs in Surry and Oxford- 
shire, and upon Juniper-hill, near Hildersham in Cambridgcshinr; be- 
sides, in several other parts of England. The berries are most common- 
ly gathered about August The astrological botanists advise us to pull 
them, when the sun is in Virgo. 

The juniper-berry is of so great reputation in the northern nations, 
that they use it, as we do coffee and thee, especially the Laplanders, 
who do almost adore it. Simon Pauli, a learned Dane, assures us, that 
these berries ha?e performed wonders in the stone, which be did not 
learn from books, or common fame, hut from his own observation and 
experience ; for he produces two very notable examples, that, being tor- 
mented with the stone, did find incredible success in tlie use of those 
berries ; and, if my memory does not fail roe, I have heard our most in- 
genious and famous Drf Troutbeck commend a medicine piv'parcd of 
them in this distemper. Besides, Schroder knew a nobleman of Germa? 
ny, that freed himself from the intolerable symptoms of the stone by the 
constant use of these berries. Ask any physician about them, and he 
will bestow upon them a much finer character than my rude pencil cai|. 
draw. The karned Mr. Evelyn will tell you what great kindnesses he 
has done to his poor sick neighbours, with a preparation of juniper^ 

* JoSfttal dii Sofvam. 4*. lOsi. 


berries, .who it pleased to boooor tkctii with the title of the Fomter% 
Panacea ; he extols them in the wind cbolick, and 'many other dia^ 
tempers. Do bat consalt Bauhintit and Schroder* the first being the 
most exact herbal, the other the moat iieuthful and elaborate dispensatory, 
that e?er has been published .* and you will find great commendation of 
these berries in dropsies, gravel, coughs, consumptions, gout, stoppaga 
oi the OMinthly ofNirses, epilepsies, palsies, and lethargies, in whidi 
there are often an ill appetite, bad digestions, and obstructions. 

Take one spoonful of the spirit of juniper-berries, four graii^ of tha 
salt of juniper, and three drops of the oil of juniper-berries well rectififdt 
mix them all together, drink them morning and night in a glass of white- 
wine, and you will have no contemptible medicine in all the afore-meai^ 
tioned diseases. 

Now it is probable, that you have both the spirit, salt, and oil of this 
berry in a simple decoction of it, provided it be carefully and skilfully 
managed* If this will not satisfy, do but read Benjamin Scarffius, and 
John Michael, who have published in Germany two several books of 
the juniper, and you may meet with fmt more penroasive arguments^ 
than I can pretend to oicr you. 

The elder*tree grows almost every where, but it roost delighfts m 
hedges, orchards, and other shady places, or on the moist banks 
of rivulets and ditches, into which it is thrust by the gardeners, lest^ 
by its luxury and importunate increase yeariy, it should possesa all their 
ground* We write here of the domestick, common elderi not of litiHt 
mountain, the water, or dwarf elders, ours in figure is like the ash; lh« 
leaves resemble those of a walnut-tree, but less; in the top of th^ 
branches, and twigs, there spring sweet and crisped umbels, swelling 
with white odoriferous flowers (in June before St. John's eve) which by 
their fiftll give place to a many-branched grapes, first-green, then ruddy^ 
last of a black, dark purple colour, succulent and tamid with its winislk 
liquor. Of all the wild plants it is first covered with leaves, and last 
undonllied of them. It flourishes in May, June, and July, but thi 
berries arc not ripe till August. 

As for the qualities and vertues of elder-berries, I need say no more^ 
but that Mr. Ray has given a great encomium of tbeift; our learned 
Pr. Needham commending them in dropsies, and some fevers ; and I 
have been informed| that the ingenious Dr. Croon bos extolled a spirit of 
elder-berries in an epidemical intermitting fever. Schroder says, thejr 
do peealiarly respect some diseases, attributed to the womb. Mr^ 
Evelyn is so bountiful to his poor Forester, as to assure him, that if ha 
poold but learn iSke medicinal properties of the elder-tree, he might fetch 
a remedy from every hedge, either for sickness or wounds* The saM^ 
curious gentleman takes notice, how prevalent these berries are in scor- 
butick distempers, ai)d for the prolongation of life (so famous is the story 
d Neander.) 1 have heard some praise them in bloody fluxes, and 
other diseases of the bowels ; alfo in several distempers of the head, as 
the falling-sickpess, megrims, palsies, lethargies; they are said like- 
jririse to promote the monthly inundations of women, and to destroy the 
licttt of an erysipelas, for whi^h, the flowers diemselves are highly cele^ 
|)rated by Simon Pauli| w^Q experimented them upon hinnelf infitK 



wondeffol success. I could produce several cases out of the best phy^ 
aical writers, as Forestus> Riveritts« Rulandus, &c. where these berries 
have acted their parts, even to admiration; but, if you are curious and 
inquisitive after the qualities and nature of them, I will recommend a 
learned German, Martyn Blochwitz, to your reading, where you may 
entertain yourself with great variety. Yet I have one thing still to take 
notice of, that the same medicine may be prepared out of the spii4t, oil, 
and salt of this berry, that you have been taught before, to make out of 
the juniper-berry; but you may obtain them all in a simple decoction, 
if it be well managed. 

You have read here the great use of these two berries, that are more 
universally. agreeable to all tempers, palates, and cases, than perhaps 
any other two simple medicines, which arc commonly known amongst 
us; so that several persons, being under ill habits of body, and upon 
Che (toatiers of some lingering diseases, cannot but desiro to drink therai 
when they have occasion to resort to publick-houses. Yet, for all this, 
my poor advice will certainly meet with that fate, which does attend 
almost every thing in the worlds that is, Laudatur ab Am, culpaiur 4A 
Hits : but it dreads most of all the Tnrky and East-India merchant, who 
will condemn it in defence of their coffee and thee, which have the 
honour of coming from the Levant and China. Besides, I am afraid of 
a lash, or a frown, from some young ladies, and little sparks, who scorn 
to eat, drink, or wear any thing, that comes not from France, or the 
Indies ; they hncy poor England is not capable of bringing forth any 
commodity, that can be agreeable to their grandeur and gallantry, as 
though nature, and God Almighty, had cursed this island with the pro- 
ductions of such things, as are every way unsuitable to the complexions 
and necessities of the inhabitants ; so we cannot but repartee upon these 
fbda-modt persons, that, while they worship so much only foreign crea* 
tures, they cannot but be wholly ignorant of those at home. His ex« 
cellency, the most acute and ingenious ambassador from the Emperor 
^ Fea and Morocco (who now resides amongist us) is reported to have 
advised his attendants to see every thing, but admire nothing, lest they 
should seem thereby to disparage their own country, and shew them- 
selves ignorant of the great rarities and wonders of Barbary. 

Poor contemptible berries, fly hence to Smyrna, Bantam, or Mexico; 
then the merchants would work through storms and tempests, through 
lire and water, to purchase you, and, on your arrival here would pro* 
claim your vertues in all publick assemblies ; so true is that common 
aaying, A prophet is never valued m his own country. The English soil 
is certainly influenced by some pestilential star, that blasts the credit of 
im productions. 

The Way of making Mum, with some Bemarks upon that Liqnor, 

IN the first place, I will give some instructions how to make mum, 
MM it is recorded in the house of Bruoswick| and was sent, from theoce^ 
$o Geneial Monk. 


' To make a ^r«ael of tixty-three gallons , the water must be first boiled 
%> tlie consomplion of a third part ; let it then be brewed, according to 
Mttf with seven bushels of wheat-malt, one bushel of oat«malt, and one 
bushel of ground beans; and, when it is tunned, let not the hogMiead 
he too mu4^ filled at first. When it begins to work, put to it of ihe 
inner rind of the fir, three pounds ; of the tops of fir and iHrch, of each 
one pound; of carduus bened^ctus dried, three handfuls; flowers of 
jrosasolis, two handfuls; of hornet, betony, marjoram, avens, pcnny- 
toyuk^ flowtffs of elder, wild thyme, of each one handful and an half; 
aeeds of cardamom bruised, three ounces ; bay-berries bruised one ounce ; 
put the seeds into the ¥cssel. When the liquor hath wrought a while 
with the herbs, and afler they are added, let the liquor work over the 
^cnel as little as may be, fill it up at last, and, when it is stopped, put 
into the hogshead ten new-laid egg|i, the shells not cracked or broken ; 
ilop all close, and drink it at two years old; if carried by water it is 
better. Dr. J^gidius Hoffman added water-cresses, brook-lime, and 
wild parsley, of each six handfuls, with six handfuls of horse-radish 
rasped in every boghead ; it was observed that the horse-radish made 
•the mum drink more quick than that which had none. 

By the composition of mum, we may guess at the qualities and pro* 
perties of it. You find great quantities of the rind, and tops of fir, in 
it; therefore if the mum-makers at London are so careful and honest, as 
io prepare this liquor, after the Brunswick fiisbion, which is the genuine 
and original way ; it cannot but be very powerful against the breeding 
of stones, and against ail scorbutick distempers. When the Swedes 
carried on a war against the Muscovites, the scurvy did so domineer 
among them, that their army did languish and moulder away to nothing, 
till, once incamping near a great number of fir-trees, they began to 
boil the tops of them in their drink, which recovered the army, even to 
a miracle; from whence the Swedes call the fir, the scorbutick tree, to 
this very day. Our most renowned Dr. Walter Needham has observed 
4he great success of these tope of fir in the scurvy, as Mr. Ray informs 
us ; which b no great woodier, if we consider the balsam or turpentine 
(with which this tree abounds) which proves so efiectual in preserving 
even dead bodies themselves from putrefaction and corruption. If my 
memory does not deceive me, I have heard Mr. Boyle (the ornament 
and glory of our English nation) afiirm, that the oil of turpentine pre- 
.aervcs bodies frcmi putrefaction much better than the spirit of wine. 
The fir, being a principal ingredient of this liquor, is so celebrated by 
some modem writers, that it alone may be sufficient to advance tlie 
mum trade among us* Simon Pauli (a learned Dane) tells us the giHit 
exploits of the tops of this tree in freeing a great man of Germany from 
an inveterate scurvy. Every physician will inform you, how proper they 
are against the breeding of gravel and stones; but then we must be so 
exact, as to pull these tops in their proper season, when they abound 
most with turpentine and balsamick parts, and then they may make the 
mum a proper liquor in gonorrhcea's. Besides, the eggs may improve 
its faculty that way ; yet 1 will not conceal what, I think, the learned 
Dim Alcrret affisms in his observations upon wines, that those liquon^ 


iill6 which the shaTings c«f fir are put» may be apt to create paiDf in the 
told; bm Mill It is to be cottfesiedy that the fir cannot but contribute 
much to the vigour and preservation of the drink. 

By the variety of its malt, and by the ground beans, we may conclude, 
thAt mum 18 a very hearty and strengthening liquor* Some drink it 
much, because it has no hops, which, they fancy, do spoil our English 
ales and beers, ushering in infections; nay, plagues amongst us. Tho. 
Bartholine exclaims so fiercely against hops, that ha advises us to mix 
aiiy thing with our drink, rather than them; he recommends sage, ti^ 
martsks, tops of pine, or fir, instead of hops, the daily use of which ia 
our English liquors is said to have been one cause, why the stone it 
gmwn such a common disease among usl Englishnien. Yet, Captaia 
Oiaunt, in his curiout observations upon the bills of naortality, observet, 
that fewer are afflicted with the stone in this present age, than there 
w^ in the age before, though hr more hops have been used in this 
city of late than ever. 

As for eggs in the composition of mum, they may contribute much to 
•vevent its growing sowre, their shells sweetening vinegar, and destroys 
mg acids; for which reason they may be proper in restoring some dc^ 
cajred liquors, if put whole into the vessel. Dr. Stubbs, in some 
eurious observations made in his voyage to Jamaica, assures us, that 
agg^ put whole into the vessel, wil preserve many drinks, even to ad- 
Mration, in long voyages; the shells and whites will be devoured and 
lost, but the yolks left untouched. 

Dr. Willis prescribes mum in several chronical dutempers, as scurvies^ 
iropsies, and some sort of consumptions. The Germans, especially 
the inhabitants of Saxony, have so great a veneration for this liquor, 
that they fancy their bodies can never decay, or pine away, as long as 
they are lined and embalmed with so powerful a preserver ; and indeed, 
ff we consider -the frame and complexions of the Germain in general, 
they may appear to ht living mummies. But to conclude all in a few 
w^rds ; if this drmk, called mum, be exactly made according to the 
Ibregoing instructions, it must needs be a most excellent alterative 
medicine: the ingredients of it being very rare and choice simples, there 
being scarce any one disease in nature against which some of them are 
tibt prevalent, as betony, marjoram, thyme, in diseases of the bead ; 
birch, bumet, water-cresses, brook-lime, horse*radish, in the most 
inveterate scurvies, gravels, coughs, consumptions, and all obstruct 
tiorfs. Avens and cwlamom-seeds for cold weak stomachs* Carduus 
beuedicttts^. and eldor-fkiwers, in intermitting fevers. Bay-berrios and 
}ienny-royal, in distempers attributed to the womb. But it is to be 
ibared, that several of our Londoners are not so honest and curious, at 
lo prepare their mum fiiithfully and truly; if they do, they are so happy 
as to furnish and stock their codntry with one of the most aseful liquors 
tinder the snn, it being so proper and efiectual in several lingering 
ifistempers, where there is a depravation and weakness of the blood and 

There still remains behind a strong and general objection, that may, 
fariraps, fall upon this little puny pMiphlet, and crush It all to piacet. 


Aftt it, ^histories are too short, and imperfect; to whtck I liave oaly 
this to answer. 

An hngOf viia brmSf 

A iieHect natural kistory of the least tiling in the «or|d« cannot be tlM 
wodc ofone man, or scarce of one age; (britrequirei the beads, banibf 
studies, and observations of rnany^ well compered and dig^ted togs* 
tber; tkereibro this is rather an essay, or lopick, tor men to reason 
wpoQ, when tber meet together in publick-houses, and to encourage 
fSicm to follow ttie example of Adam, who, in the state of ionocc^ioey 
did contemplafe of all the creatures that were round about him in 
Pamdise, but lifter the fidl, and the building of a dty, the philosopher 
tamed politician. 


UQU0R6 and drinks are of such general use and esteem. In ^1 the 
habitable parts of the world, that a word or two conoeming them cannot 
be improper or unwelcome. 

First, the saps and juices of trees will aford many pleasant and useful 
liquors. The Africans and Indians prepare their famous palm-wine 
(which they call sura or toddy) out of the sap of the wounded p^lm 
tree, as we do our birch-wioe in England, out of the tears of the pierced 
bircb-eree, which is celebrated in the stone and scurvy. So the syica- 
ffiore and walnut, being wounded, will weep out their juices, which 
may be fermented into liquors. In the Molucca's, the inhabitants 
extract a wirte out of a tree called laudan* 

Fruits and berries yield many noble and oecessary liquors. £very nation 
abounds with various drinks by the diversity of their fruits and vegetables. 
England with cyder, perry, cherry, currant, gooseberry, raspberry, mul« 
bciry, blackberry, and strawberry wine. France, Spain, Italy, Hungary, 
and Germany, produce great varieties of wines from the dififerent species 
and natures of their grapes and soils. In Jamaica and Bmsil they make a 
▼ery delicious wine out of a fruit called ananas, which is like a pine-apple, 
not inferior to Malsasia inne. The Chinese make curious drinks out of 
their fruits ; so do the Brasilians and Southern Americans; as from their 
cocoa, acajou, pacobi, uuni, or snurtilla's. We may note here, that 
all the. juices of herbs, fruits, seeds, and roots will work and ferment 
themselves into intoxicathig liquors, out Of which spirits and brandies 
may be extracted. Most nations under the sun have their drunken liquors 
and compotfn<h; the Turk his maslack, the Ferstank fhek bangue, the 
Indians their fulo, rum, arack, and punch. The Arabians, Turks, 
Chinese, Tartars, and other eastern countries do make inebriating liquors 
out-pf their com and rice; some, rather than not be drunk, will swallow 
opiMn^ dUtroy,' 4nd tobacco; orHome'otberintoxStating thing, so great 
an jndinhttiin'basnkaiiltiM trf hee«ii)ted. Pliny Mnpiaios, that drufik- 
Itt^M^^^'ad-lfttidy b^his tiitf^, iad A«t^the HoiMnsaad Paithiaas 


coatended for the glory of excesive wine-drinking. . Historians tell xa 
t>f one NovelUus Torqaatus, who went through all the honourabl<> 
degrees of dignity in Rome, wherein the greatest glory and honour, he 
obtained, was for the drinking, in the presence of Tiberius, three gallons 
of wine at one draught, before ever he drew his breath, and without 
being any ways concerned. Athenseos says, that Melanthius wished 
his own neck as long as a cranes, that he might be the kmger a tasting 
the pleasure of drinks ; yet, what he reports of Lasyrtes is wonderfuV 
that he never drank any thing, tlK/, notwithstanding, he urined as others 
do. The same fiunous author takes notice, that the great drinkers used 
to eat coleworts, to prevent drunkenness; neither are some men of our 
days much infi^rior to those celebrated antients. The Germans, com* 
tnoqly dnnJL whole tankards, and ell-glasses, at a draught, adoring him 
that drinks fairly and most, and hating him that will not pledg^tthem* 
l*he Dutchmen will salute their guests with a pail and a dish, making 
hogsheads of their bellies. The PoUtnder thinks him the bravest fellow 
that drinks most healths, and carries his liquor best, being of opinion^ 
that there is as much valour in drinking as fighting. The Russians, 
Swedes, and Danes have so naturalised brandy, aqua vitae, beer, mum, 
Src. that they usually drink our Englishmen to death, so that the most 
ingenious author of the Vinetum Britannicum concludes, that tempe<* 
ranee (relatively speaking) is the cardinal virtue of the English. 

It is very wonderful what Mr. Ligon and other American travellers 
relate of the cassava-root, how out of it the Americans ^do generally 
make their bread, and common drink, called parranow ; yet that root 
is known to be a great poison, if taken raw ; their driok, called mobby» 
is made of potatoes. But we will conclude all with Virgil, whc^ 
speaking of the many liquors in his time, says, 

Sfd ncque quam tnuUet tfecies^ nee nomina qua sttnt^ 
Eat munerui. 



The French Intrntan ef England^ comidered and dUananed, 
Ittom half a tkeet, foUo, printed at London, 1699.I 

THAT there is, or at least has been, an intended invasion from 
France, headed by King James, i% too apparent; and tl^tt the 
greatest encouci^imieBt ta such ap undertaking must l^e tl^ taj^ec^ 

FROM FRANCE, kc. 39 

if not promisccl raccotiTs ready to join him upon the descent, is as plainly 
cvidmu Now that there can be such a party of Englishmen, and those 
proHessing themseWes protestants too (for the Romanists are no part of 
our wonder,) whose reason anf sense can be so lost and depraired, as to 
consfare with such a design, is not a little stupendious. 

The business of this paper, therefore, is to examine, what conse* 
quences they can expect, from the success of such an invasion ; and 
what patriots they shall make themself es, in assbting the return of King 

In the fiist place^ do they flatter themselves, because, forsooth, tha 
greatest part of our invaden, for the more plausible pretext, ae com- 
posed of English, Scotch, and Irish, natives and subjects to the crown 
of Englandt that therefore King Jaines^s service (so poor a mask) is all 
the business of this expedition ? Have we forgot since so lately, in 
Ireland, the French King could hardly hold the vizor on till the con* 
qucsl of that kingdom, where the very Irish themselves began to ba 
jealous (and with too much cause) of their pretended friends, but in* 
tended lords, the French f And that no Angm ta Herbi^ no French 
reserve, lies at the bottom of this invasion. 

Secondly, Do they think this succour to King James, though in so 
important a service as resettling him upon his throne, can deserve any 
gratclol return; and upon that encouragement they found the safety of 
their religpon and liberties, in any promises of security from that obli- 
gation } Alas ! is it so late since woful experience convinced them, that 
acknowledgment or gratitude arc no part of a popish^King's principle ; 
witness the unkind return he made to that very church of England, that, 
more than once, were so exeropUiriiy sealous for securing the crown 
upon his head, in their strenuous opposition ag^nst both the Bill of 
Exclusion, and Monmouth's Insurrection. And if both those deserving 
services, those accumulated obligations, were such foeble cobweb-lawn; 
shall any thing, done in his service now, make a stronger tie upon him ? 
Mb, quite to the contrary. For example, the church d England had 
then twice obliged him, and never once offended him. Besides, there 
was not only a coronation oath, but his first voluntary declaration, at 
Iris assumption of the government, one would reasonably think enough 
to bind him to performance. But how little all those bonds signify, 
when the Okncelling hand of Rome came into play ; we have but too 
much reason to remember. And if all those ties, I say, could not hold 
then; what can we hope for, when there neither is, nor can be any tie 
at all to hold him now ? For example, suppose the blind and mistaken 
frenay of aome of our protestant aealots (if that name can be proper for 
them) could remount him to hb throne; what shall they deserve for it, 
any more than the title of unprofitable servants ? Their turning him 
out from the throne, together with the remembrance of the dear Irish 
blood shed by them, and the rest of our faults, are such capital trans* 
greasaons, that the restoring him into it again will not be half our ex- 
piatioii. And supposing he publishes the most mollifying declaration 
upoa Uf landiDg, that aU the eloquaoca of Roase can put together; 
shall dmlaUifaym^ Ma^ aa . isr iimi it, that U Mithar is, nor can 



be any more tlum a Kroll of vwte paper. For supposing the conteftCs 
o\ it shoMld run in these flatteiing insinuations^ vis. What wondetont 
clemency ht would shew us upon our return to our allegiance, and wiili 
ivhat mpderatipn he woiild reigju over us^ upon our re-admitting of him 
to his throne, %vjth all the most solemn protestations, and what not« 
Now as it is unlikely, that King Jamos should ever return without 
oppo^tion, and undoubtedly a very strenuous one; it being imposaiUo 
we shQVljd b? fill drawn in, with the specious bait of sweet words, and 
fair promises; and consequently, he must have a blow for it. Suppos* 
ing, nevertheless, I say, bis party so strong, and his success so great, 
as to recover his kingdoms : Upon such a recovery, whatever he pn^ 
9)ise8, in his declaration, isi from that moment, null and void. For the 
Gonsideratiofi is not performed, and consequently, the obligation ca»» 
celled. For instance, he comes not in by our submission, and return 
to our allegiance, but by force and conquest. And as such, not only 
his declarations, but bis very coronation-oath, without the stretch of • 
mental reservation, are ail actually absolved. And if law, nor oathty 
service, nor jfidelity^ as above-mentioned, were able to keep his Romish 
zeal in any bounds or limits before ; what shall the loosening of them all 
expect now ? And consequently what driving Jehu must we look for, 
when that black day comes (which heaven of its mercy keep far from us.) 
And whatever private gratuities or favours some particular eminent ^ 
protestants hands may possibly receive for their signal services in this 
revolution, nothing of sense, but must conclude us the miserablest natioa 
and people in the world. 

tiesidoi, could we look for miracles, and expect a reign of clemency 
from him, our niigion and civil rights secured, wliata crew of Irish 
dear-joys, that come over with him, are here to be rewarded, all pre* 
ferment and honours, nay, the fat of the land to be cantoned out 
amongst them. And consequently the power in these confiding hands* 
the whole nobility, gentry, and commonalty of England must \i\e under 
the check and aweof toriesand rapparees, and submit to all the insnlta 
of miscreants aad vagrants 4 ajid well we compound so cheap. 

Nay, though some people fancy wa shall at least enjoy this blessin|i; 
of being eased from taxes by his return; it is so much u mistake, that, 
in the other extream, that very shadow vanishes too. For what must 
this expedition cost the French King, and what must all his Irish arrears, 
and other infinite unaccountable sums, amount to, which must all lie 
upon this ruined nation to satisfy, with a very courteous compliment 
into the bargain, if the French King will graciously and mercifully 
please io demand no more. Nay, perhaps, the whole charge of bia 
several years naval prepamtion ; (for had King James continued on h\% 
throne, most of all that expence had been saved) must lie at- our door» 
a score too terrible, even lo tliink of; and, take it altogether, a very 
granjfulpayflient out of the protestant pockets, to so prodigious a cham* 
pion of the protestant religion, as King Lewis. 

JBut for once (though contrary to common sense) granting we shouM 
allow all in his fisvour, that the most zealous Jacobite can pretend, via. 
That King James^ upoa his fetum^to ahe throne, sbalt to a tittle pedorm 
evci|y.parUcularaftid«dii:hia aary daclanuoo, as-plau^blo. sMHrei^ia 


it may be penned^ vis. Wc will suppose, that the French King shall 
disclaim, directly or indirectly, all pretensions whatever to England; 
that the restoration of his friend King James is his only part and design 
in this expedition ; and King James, on the other side, shall abjure all 
nanm*roir violation to the laws, shall support the protestant religion, 
and (making a searmark of his former wreck) shall peaceably keep up to 
the full observance of so generous a profession; granting all this, 1 say, 
and whatever other imaginary security, his dreaming party can form to 
themselves; nevertheless, in the fairest ince, let us observe the dismal 
and tremendous effects of his restoration. It is known to the whole world to 
what the French ambition tends, viz. universal monarchy. And it is as 
notoriously famous, what desolations and ravages the arms of France 
have made, and how formidable that successful destroyer is, even to 
the whole united powers of Europe. And as his prrsent Majesty King 
William it, possibly (without vanity) the leading champion of the whole 
eooiederacy, and all little enough to make head against France; upon 
King Jamais return to the throne, here is not only so potent an arm as 
the alliance of Britain lopped off from the confederacy, but added to the 
strrngth of France. For though, in his reign before, he only stood 
neuter, with little, or no other assistance, to his idolised grand Lewis, 
than his heartiest vows and prayers for the success and prosperity of that 
incroaching enslaver of mankind. Yet now he will lie under a more 
pressing obligation ; and the least return even of common gratitude, for 
hit remounting him on his throne, will be to list under that tyrant's 
standard, and joining the arms of England, to the finishing and crown- 
ing the whole designs of that universal aspirer. And as the whole con- 
federacy, already, is little enough to match him; upon this revolution 
in England, it is impossible to expect less than that the whole cause of 
Christendom must sink, and all Europe truckle beneath him. And 
whilst the English hands bear so great a part in this fatnl turn (to give it 
no harder name) what is it but a making ourselves the monsters of man- 
kind, the inevitable instruments and tools to that grand cut-throat of 
Christendom? And what has some little palliution on his side, as 
having the pretence of renown and honour, in the quest of laurels and 
enlargement of empire, ^c, will on our part amount only to butchery 
and desolation, for meer butchery and desolation's sake. The glory, if 
any, will be Lewis's, and the infamy England's. Infamy indeed (if we 
meet with no worse reward) when we consider what a barbarous part 
we must act in the yoking and shackling of Europe. Hut suppose it 
ends there, and that will be the only brand in the English escutcheon ; 
and that Lewis, in his grasp of universal Empire, shall exclude England 
from any part of his feudatories, and tributaries, viz. he shall make 
golden promises to King James, and once in his life (his liist virtue of 
tliat kind) keep faith, and no worse follow (a very unlikely flattery) yet 
what an eternal shame to the old English honour, the sleeping dust of 
our Third Edward, and Fifth Henry, and indeed the whole Ikirisli 
chronicles, is our portion, in aggrandising of France, to that prodigious 
bulk and growth, and dwindling ourselves to that diminuiivc and des- 
picable state and condition, as are, and roust be, the unavoidable con- 
•equences of King James's restoration. 



Granting tbe Jacobites, therefore, all their own delusions can shapCf 
that King James shall forget and forgive; shall rule by law, and turn a 
saint upon a throne : And that the disinterested Lewis shall have no 
other designs upon England, but purely King James's assistance ; yet 
still tbe roost, they can look for, is perhaps, to enjoy a little English li« 
berty (upon their own supposition) during the short remnant of King 
James's days, whilst hb gray hairs, perhaps, shall fill the seat. But! 
wonder any reasonable man, that pretends but to common sense, can 
think it possible, that France should ingross the dominion of Europe, 
and England ever hope to continue the only exempt from the univer« 
sal yoke; is there that frenzy so mad as to &ncy it? No, all our best 
hopes will be to be swallowed last, and the annexing of Britain, a pro- 
vince to France; and consequently to groan under all the slavery and 
vassalage of a French government, is the undoubted fate of England ; 
and hereby the restoration of King James, in its fovourablest aspect, 
brings no less fatality along with it, than entailing of misery upon us, to 
the end of the world ; and all the honour, our protestant restorers will 
reap, is to be the ruin and curse of their whole posterity, their very 
names and memories loathed and abhorred to all succeeding gene- 




Contaming an exact aud particvlar relation tftke late happy victory and 

iucQos against the French Fleet. 

Published by sothority. In the Savoy, printed by Edward Jones^ 1693. Folio, 

containing eight pages. 

Portsmouth June 2, iSpt. 

SINCE your Lordship scetns to think, that an account, in general* of 
the fleet's goo<l success is hot so satisfactory as one setting forth the 
piirticulars; I here send it, with as much brevity t:s the matter will ad* 
mit of. I must confess 1 was not much inclined to trouble you in this 
nature, not being ambitious ^o see my name in print on any occasion ; 


but, since it is jrotiT Lordship's commands, I am the more inclined to 
gjve you the best information, I am able^ of the action, having seenseve* 
ral printed relations not very sincere 

Wednesdayi in the evening, being the eighteenth of May, standing over 
fvCape de Hogue, I ordered Captain Gillam, in the Chester, and the 
Charles g^lieyt to lie at such a distance to the westward of the fleet, that 
they might discover any signaU made from me. 

Thursday the nineteenth, standing with a small gale S.S.VV. the wind 
at \V« and W.and by S. hazy weather, Cape Barfleur bearing then S.W* 
and by S* from me distant about seven leagues, between three and four 
in the .momingi we heard several guns to the westward^ and, in a short 
time, I saw the two frigates making the signal of seeing the enemy, with 
their heads lying to the northward ; which gave me reason to think 
the enemy lay with their heads that way ) upon which, I ordered the 
signal to be made for the fleet's drawing into a line of battle ; after 
which/ 1 made the sigmtl for the rear of the fleet to tack, that, if the 
enemy stood to the northward, we might the sooner come to engage. 
But, soon after lour o'clock, the sun had a little cleared the weather^ 
and I saw the Flnench fleet standing to the southward, forming their line 
on the same tack that 1 was upon; I then ordered that signal for the 
rear to tack to be taken in, and, at the same time, bore away with my 
own ship so far to leeward, as 1 judged each ship in the fleet might fetch 
my wake or grain; then brought to again, lying by with my fore-top« 
sail to the mast, to give the ships, in the fleet, the better opportunity of 
placing themselves, as they had been before directed. By eight o'clock 
we had formed an indifikrcnt line, stretching from the S.S.W. to the 
N N.E. the Dutch in the van, the red in the center, and the blue in the 
' rear. Hy nine o'clock, the enemy's vanguard ha<i stretched almost as 
far to the southward as ours, their admiral and rear-admiral of thebluc^ 
that were in the rear, closing the line, and their vice-admiral ot the same 
division stretching to the rear of our fleet, but never coming within gun* 
shot of them. About ten, they bore down upon us, I still lying with 
my fore-top-sail to the mast. I then observed Monsieur Tourville, the 
P/reoch admiral, put out his signal for battle. I gave order that mine 
should not be hoisted, till the fleets began to engage, that he might have 
the fairer opportunity of coming as near me, as he thought convenient ; 
and, at the same time, 1 sent orders to Admiral Almonde, that, as soon 
as any of his squadron could weather the enemy's fleet, they should tack, 
and get to the westward of them ; as also to the blue, to make sail, and 
close the line, they being at some distance a-stern. But, as soon as the 
fleet began to engage, it fell calm, which prevented their so doing. 
About half an hour siter eleven. Monsieur Tourville, in the Royal Sun 
(being within three-quarters mtuquetrshot) brought to, lying by me, at 
that dbtance, about an hour and a half, plying his guns very warmly; 
tboq^ I must observe to you, that our men fired their guns faster; after 
which time, 1 did not^nd his guns were fired with that vigour as before, 
and I could see him in great disorder, his rigging, sails, and top-sail 
yards being shot, and no body endeavouring to make them serviceable, 
and his boats towing of him to windward, gave me reason to think he was 




much gaulcJ. About two, the wind shifted to the N.W. and by W.* 
and, some little time after that five fresh ships of theenem/s blue sqaa* 
dron came and posted themselves, three a-head of Monsieur Tourville, 
and two a-stern of him, and fired wijh great fury, which continued till 
after tliree. About four in the evening, there came so thick a fog, that 
we could not see a ship of the enemy's, which occasioned our leaving off 
firing iov a little time, and then it cleared up, and we could sec Monsieur 
Tourville toeing away with his boats to the northward from 111; upon 
which I did the same, and ordered all my division to do the like; and, 
about half an hour after five, we had a small breeze of wind easterly. I 
then made the signal for the fleet to chace, sending notice to all the ships 
about me, that the enemy were running. About this time I heard seve- 
ral broadsides to the westward ; and, though I could not see the shipv 
that fired, I concluded them to be our blue, that, by the shift of wind, 
had weathered the enemy; but it proved to be the rear-admiral of the 
red, who had weathered Tourville's squadron, and got between them and 
their admiral iif the blue, where they lay firing some time, and then 
1 ourville anchored with some ships of his own division, as also the rear- 
admiral of the red with some of his. This was the time that Captain 
llastingi, in the Sandwich, was killed, he driving through those'shipt, 
by reason of his anchors not being clear. I could not see this part, be- 
cause of the great smoke and fog, but have received this information 
from Sir Cloudesley Shovel since. I sent to all the ships that I could 
think were near me, to chace to the westward all night; telling them, 
I designed to follow the enemy to Brest; and sometimes we could see a 
French ship, two, 01 three, standing away with all the sail they could 
make to the westward. About eight, I hc^rd firing to the westward, 
which lasted about half an hour, it being some of our blue fallen in with 
some of the i^hips of the enemy in the fog. It was foggy, and very little 
wind all night. 

Friday the twentieth, it was so thick in the morning, that I could see 
none of the enemy's ships, and but vTry few of our own. About eight 
it began to clear up ; the Dutch who were to the southward of me, 
made the signal of seeing the enemy ; and, as it cleared, I saw about 
thirty-two or thirty-four sail, distant from us between two and thive 
leagues, the wind at E.N.E. and they bearing from us W.S.W. our fleet 
chacing with all the sail they could make, having taken in the signal for 
the line of battle, that each ship might make the best of her way after 
the enemy. Between eleven and twelve, the wind came to the S.W. 
The French plied to the westward with all the sail they could, and we 
after them. About four, the tide of ebb being done, the French anchored, 
as also we in forty-three fathom water. Cape Barfleur bearing S. and 
by W. About ten in the evening, we weighed with the tide of ebb, the 
wind at S.W. and plied to the westward. About twelve, my fore-top- 
mast came by the board, having received several shot. 

Saturday the twenty-first, we continued still plying after the enemy, 
till four in the morning. The tide of ebb being done, I anchored in for- 
ty-six fathom water, Cape de Hoguc bearing S. and by W. and the is- 
land of Alderney S.S.W. By my topmast's going away, the Dutch 
squadron, and the admiral of the blue, with several of his squadron, 

f- . 


had got a gffat way to windward of me. About seven in the morning, 
several of the enemy's ships, being far advanced towards the Race, I 
perceived driving to the eastward with the tide of flood. Between eight 
and nine, when they were driven so far to the eastward that I could fetch 
tlicra, I made the signal for tbefleet to cut and follow the enemy ; which 
they all did, except the aforementioned weathermost sliips, which rid 
£ut, to observe the motion of the rest of the enemy's ships that continued 
in the race of Aldemey. About eleven, I saw three great ships fair un- 
der the shore tack and stand to the westward ;* but, after making two 
or three short boards, the biggest of them run a-shore, whopix^sentlycut 
his masts away; the other two, being to leeward of him, plied up to 
him* The reason, as I judoe, of their doing this was, that they could 
not weather our stemmost ships to the westward, nor got out a-head of 
us to the eastward. I observing that many of our ships hovered about 
those, I sent to Sir Ralph Delaval, vice-admiral of the red, who was in 
the rear of our fleet, to keep such a number of ships and flreships with 
him» as might be sufficient to destroy those of the enemy ; and to order 
the others to follow me, I being then in pursuit of the rest of the enemy. 
An account of the performing that service I do not trouble your Lord- 
ship with, he having given it you already. About four in thcafternooni 
eiriiteen sail of the enemy's ships got to the eastward of Cape Barflcur; 
after which, I observed they hauled in for le Hogue. The rear-admiral 
of die red, vice-admiral of the blue, and some other ships, were a-head of 
me. About ten at night, I anchored in the bay of le Hogue, and lay 
tin four the next morning, being 

Sunday the twenty-second ; and then I weighed, and stood in near the 
land of le Hogue; but, when we found the flood came, we anchored in 
^ood sandy ground. At two in the afternoon we weighed again, and 
plied close in with le Hogue, where we saw thirteen sail of the enemy's 
men of war hauled close in with the shore. The rear-admiral of the red 
tells me, that the night before he saw the other five, which made up the 
etgbteen I first chaced, stand to the eastward. 

Monday the twenty-third, I sent in Vice-admiral Rooke, with seven 
21} men of war and fireships, as also the boats of the fleet, to destroy 
those ships ; but the enemy had gotten them so near the shore, that not 
anyof oar men of war, except the small frigates, could do any service; 
but diat night Vice-admiral Rooke, with the boats, burnt six of them. 

Tuesday the twenty-fourth, about eight in the morning, he went in 
tffxa with the boats, and burnt the other seven, together with several 
transport ships, and some vessels with ammunition, the names of whi^h 
ships I am not yet able to give your Lordship any other account of, 
than what I formerly sent you, which are as follovi : 

Soleil Royal Count de Tourvi lie, 10-^ 

rChev. de la Villote, 1 
L'Ambitieux < Vice-admiral of the > 104 

t Blue. J 

L' Admirable * Monsieur Beaujeau, 90 

, «, -c C Mons.Cottoloffon,Rere- 7 ^^ 

LaMagmfique | Admiral of the Blue { '^ 




Jje St. Philipp, Monsieur Infreville, 76 

Le Conquerant, Du Magnon, 76 

lie Triuinphanty Monsieur Bellemonty 74 

L'Eton^nt, Monsieur de Septiroe, 80 

Le Terriblet Monsieur Septvilla, 80 

L'Amiable, Monsieur de Raa), 68 

Le Fier, Monsieur Larsetboir* 68 
liC Glorieux, LeCb.deChateaumoorant9 60 

Le SerieuXy Monsieur Bemier, 60 

Le Tridenty Monsieur Monteaud, 66 

As the prisoners report, a three-deck ship burnt by accident, and the 
following, sunk ; how true I do not know* 

Le Prince, Monsieur Bagneua, 60 

Le St. Paril, Monsieur Ferille, 60 

Tho' these be all the pames that 1 have been able to learn, yet I am 
iUre there arc sixteen ships of consequenpe burnt. 

Wednesday the twenty-fifth, I sailed from le Hogue, ordering the ad- 
miral of the blue, with a squadron of English an(l Dutch ships under 
his command, to run along the enemy's coast as far as Havre de Grace, 
in hopes that some of the befofe-mentioned five ships, that stood to the 
eastward, might have been got thither; but he informs me, that, upop 
bis appearing before tha(, place, he could perceive but one or two small 
vessels. The number of the enemy's ships did not exceed fifty men of 
lyar, by the best information, from fifty-six to one-hundred and four 
guns ; and though it must be confessed, that our number w}U superior to 
theirs, which probably at first might startle them, yet, by their coming 
down with that resolution, I cannot think it had any great efiect upon 
them. And this I may affirm for a truth, not with any intention to valu^ 
our own action, or to lessen the bravery of the enemy, that they were 
beaten by a nnmber considerably less than theirs ; the calmness and 
thickness of the weather giving very few of the Putch, or the Blue, the 
opportunity of engaging; which, 1 9m sure, they look upon as f|. great 
misfortune ; and, )iad the weather proved otherwise, I do not see ho^ 
it was possible for any of them to have escaped us« 

This is the ei^actest account that | am able tp give you, which, I 
hope, will prove to your Lordship's satisfactionr Vice-admiral Ropke 
bas given me a very good character of several men employed in the 
boats, and I have ordered him to give me a list of the names of such per- 
foni whose bel^aviour was remarkable, in order to their reward, 1 am, 

My Lord, 

Your Lordship's most faithful 

{lumble Servant, 

i;- Russtiw^ 

( 47 ) 

OF Air 


A Folio Half-iheet, no date. 

I HOPE the reader will not be so uuwise, as to expect, that I should 
here entertain him with a pompous enumeration of all those imagi- 
nary virtues, wherewith the roroantick modellers of aPlatonick, or Uto- 
pian commonwealth, adorn their paper senators ; when the character, 
even of a real Cato, would be altogether as useless in our times, as it is 
rarely found to be practised ; and, consequently, as little regarded now, 
at he himself was, by the corrupt age wherein he lived. Not, but that 
our nation has, of late, produced as great heroes, as any antiquity can 
boast oi^ yet it cannot be imagined^ that they are to be found in every 
little town or borrougb. 

Aft fur my honest and worthy parliament-man, all the qualifications, 
that I desire to find in him, arc only such as it would be the greatest 
affront imaginable to any English gentleman, to think him dcstituteof ; 
that it, that he should be a man of sense, integrity, and honour. Let 
him but follow their dictates, and then all the duties which we may 
reckon, or think of, to be incumbent on him, will be as easily performed 
by him, as they are demonstrable to be the obvious and natural conse- 
quents of such principles. 

As for hit religion, he is a sincere, as well as open professor of that which 
by our laws is now become essential to his office, I mean that of the 
Church of England. Nor is he of it, because it is established by law, 
or that he was bred in it; but, before he settled his opinion, he mature- 
ly examined itt first principles, and found them agreeable to the Divine 
Will, and right reason; he discovered the folly and errors of those who 
oppose any points of its doctrine. And, being thoroughly satisfied in the 
fundamentals, for its discipline, he intirely submits himself to the judg- 
ment and authority of those, to whose conduct and discretion, the go- 
vernment of the church has been in all ages committed. 

But though he be a zealous churchman himself, yet he is so far from 
persecuting those who dissent from the established religion, purely for 
conscience-^ake, that he is ready to pity their weakness, have compas- 
sion on their infirmities, and express the greatest tenderness imaginable 
for their persons, whenever that time shall come, when it will be his 
chance to meet with those, whose scruples arise rather from a real defect 
of their understandings, than some worldly interest or desire of filthy 
lucre, an obstinate, peevish, oi self-conceited humour, or the vain-glo- 
rious spirit of contradiction. 

D 4 


As for his sentiments in state affairs, in which, next to his religion, 
his greatest desire is to be orthodox; before they fix, he always tries 
them with the touch-stone of reason ; apd, consequently, thinks it law- 
ful for him to be a Latitvdinarian in judgment, in relation to civil 
matters : I mean, so far as not to expect to find an infallible judge, 
amongst either Tories, Whigs, or Trimmers. He takes up opinion* 
upon trust from no party, nor condemns any, because they arc of it, 
who diflfer from him in other things. And, therefore, he could not 
but smile, to see, in our late times of dissension, so many, in all out- 
ward appearance, honest and thinking men, continually jog on, like a 
gang of pack-horses, after the leaders of their several parties; and 
though they wander after these blanng, but deceitful lights, into never 
so many crooked and bye paths, yet, with an implicit and blind faith, 
still believe themselves to be in the right way. 

For his own part, his only aim is at the honour, safety, and interest 
of his country. On this mark, he keeps his eye constantly fixed; nor 
can the dreadful frowns of an enraged prince, or the horrid clamours of 
a possessed multitude, ever be able to remove him from bis point. H^ 
finds that his beloved virtue brings such solid, though invisible rewards 
along with her, that he is equally insensible to the promising smiles of 
fawning great ones that would tempt, and tlie terrible menaces of the 
fiercest demagogues, that would force him to forsake her. He can 
securely, without any fear of infection, deride the folly, and pity tha 
madness of those who forfeit their honesty, to found their happiness 
upon the unstable basis of court favours, or popular applause. 

He truly enjoys all that freedom in his actions, which he thhiks his 
duty to procure for, and defend his countrymen in. He is wholly a 
stranger to the servile ambition of gaining the favourable opinion of 
others ; nor can he tell what it is to fear the censures of any. He is 
directed, influenced, or byassed by none; and, whilst he is engaged in 
his country's service, he thinks the most glorious epithets, the world 
can fix upon him, arc those of a rigid^ inflexible, ill-natured, honest 

When he discovers that any have designs contrary to the publick 
good, let their authority and power be never so great, he opposes their 
opinions, with all the courage and zeal his generous principles can 
furnish him with, without any respect to their persons. But when the 
time comes, wherein the right side shall turn uppermost, as after all 
revolutions it ever will at last, he is then so far from trampling upon hit 
fallen adversaries, that he becomes, I mean, as a private man, most 
tender of their persons, without any respect to their opinions. 

He is altogether unacquainted with that base and degenerate passion, 
called hatred. Yet, there is one sort of men, whom he thinks worthy 
of the utmost degree of his contempt and scorn; I mean, those false and 
tirachcrous friends who have formerly gone along with, nay, much 
before him, in the same cause ; those pretended zealots for their coun- 
try and religion, who, for their own paultry interest, or some by-ends, 
made it their business to set us together by the ears, with their noisy 
clamours against popery and slavery ; but, when the danger was become 
real, and just hanging over oiir h^ds, when our church and state were 


designed for immediate ruin, with the same mercenary breath, servilely 
offered themselv^ to be employed as tools, in the destruction of them 
both. Tht'se, he conceives, ought to have a mark put upon them, at 
the worst of tray tors; he takes them to be the vilest of men, or rather 
(to use the expression of one, who, perhaps, may think himself con- 
cerned here) to carry ^ nothing of men, that is, Englishmen, tut the 

But I now find myself necessitated, to take my hand from off the 
tablet, lest, instead of compleating the portraicture of an honest par- 
liament-man, I should insensibly touch upon them, who deserve ano« 
ther character. My intention then being, like my honest patriot's, 
williog to offend no man, I shall take my leave of him at present, with 
this remark only. That a nation, where such as he preside at the helm, 
will, without doubt, be altogether as happy, as if it were steered by 
Plato's philosophising goveroojs, or govermng philosophers. 



The following letter (which was really sent from a country Quaker, to 
bis friend in London) I here publish, not with design to reflect on the 
Quakers, but that the reader may see I am so impartial, that I will 
insert every thing wrote either by Churchman, Presbyterian, or 
Quaker, &c. that I think deserves it. 

Friend John^ 
' T Desire thee to be so kind as I0 go to one of those «ii/M/f/i^ji in the 

* ^ J^^^ called an attorney^ and let him Uke out an mstrwnent with 

* a teal fixed thereunto^ by means whereof we may seiae the ouixoard 

* tabemacie of George Green, nnd bring him before the iamb-skin mm 
at Westminster, and teach him to do, as he xoould be done by. And so 

* I rest thy friend in th light. 

R. G. 

< «o > 




Wherein the true Causes «f the Civil War are impartially delineated^ by 
Strokes borrowed from Lord Clarendon, Sir Philip Warwick* Hr 
L'£strange, and other most authentick and approved Historians. 

^LondoOf piinted in Qnarto, coDtaining twenty-eigbt pages. 

IT is a melancholy reflection, that the best things, through the p»« 
verseness of our nature, are generally corrupted to the worst ends; 
and that the liberty we enjoy in England, under the best of queens, 
and the best-constituted government, should, by some licentious end 
servile writers, be abused to the defiuning honest patriots, and brand- 
ing publick-tpirited nations ; which naturally tends to the bringing in 
slavery : for nothing can more effectually destroy our happy constitution, 
than the heats and animosities industriously raised and fomented amongst 
us by a party of designing men, who, under pretence of vindicating 
the memory of the royal martyr, asperse and calumniate those who en- 
deavour to compose our differences. 

A sad instance of this we find in the usi^ the Reverend Dr. Kcnnet, 
Doctor in Divinity, Archdeacon of Huntingdon, and Minister of St. 
Botolph*s without Aldgate, has lately met with, upon account of an 
excellent sermon by him preached before his parishioners, on the thirty- 
first of January last, and since made publick in print, to clear the mis- 
apprehension of some few who heard it, and to silence the confident, 
though felsc, report of a far greater number who did not hear it. 

The publication of this sermon has, in a great measure, had a contrary 
effect to what that reverend divine ought reasonably to have expected. 
For, though it has undeceived many honest people, yet, at the same 
time, it has given birth to several libels, in which his innocent expres- 
sions are maliciously made to signify what the author never had in his 

The first thing, excepted against by the doctor's unfair censurcrs, is 
the title, as well as the subject of his sermon, endeavouring to insinuate 
to the world, ' That civil war is an expression that palliates the crime, 
rather than any ways agreeable to the solemnities of the day.' How this 
can give offence to any, is hard to be imagined, since the word ' civil 
war* was ever used as synonymous with rebellion, even by the warmest 
sticklers for that unfortunate prince; as Dr. Kennct himself does, in 
several places in this very sermon. 

A VIEW, ice. 51 

Hovpever, which of the two words» civil war, or rebellion, is the 
Bfopemty history alone can determine; and therefore let us listen to 

* Thii^were now going fast on (says Dr. Welwood *) towards lessen- 
ing the confidence betwixt the Ring and parliament ; and yet there were 
not wanting endeavours, on both tides, to accommodate matters by soft 
and healing methods, when the King's coming to the house of commons 
in person, to demand fife of their members, whom he had ordered the 
day before to be impeached of high-treason, did put all into combustion, 
imd gave occasion to the house to assert their privileges. This was the 
most unlucky step King Charles could have made at Uiat juncture, and 
the indiscretion of some, that attended the King to the lobby of the 
house, was insisted upon, as an argument, that the King was resolved 
to use violence upon the parliament ; which, it is to be presumed, was 
a thing for from his thoughts. Whoever they were, that advised the 
King to this rash attempt, are justly chargeable with all the blood that 
was afterwards spilt; for this sudden action was the first and visible 
g^undof all our following miseries. For, immediately upon it, there 
was nothing but confusion and tumults, fears and jealousies every where, 
which spread themselves to Whitehall in the rudest manner, so that, 
la» Majesty thinking himself not safe there, he retired with his family 
to Hampton-court. The King leaving the parliament in this manner, 
there were scarce any hopes of a tliorough reconciliation. But when, 
after a great many removes from place to place, his Majesty came to 
setup his standard at Nottingham, there ensued a fatal and bloody war; 
which, it is reasonable to believe, was never designed by eitlier side. 
Each party blamed the other for beginning this war, and it is not easy 
to determine, which of them began it. Though the King made the first 
steps that seemed to toid that way, such as, raising a troop for a guard 
$o his person, summoning the gentlemen and freeholders of several 
counties to attend him in his progress to the north, and ordering arms 
fuid ammunition to be bought in Holland for his use ; yet the parliament 
did as much at the same time, for they likewise raised guards of their 
own, and took care that the magasine of Hull should not fall into the 
Kingfs hands. So that the King and parliament prepared themseKej 
imensibly for war, without considering, that these preparations must 
giradually and inevitably come to blows in the end. ■ During the 

whole course of this unnatural war, it was hard to divine what would 
be the fate of England, whether an absolute, unlimited monarchy, a 
new huddled-up commonwealth, or a downright anarchy. If the King 
should prevail, the first was to be feared; if the parliament, the second 
was to be apprehended ; and, if the army should set up for theipselves, 
as afterwards they did, the last was inevitably to follow. All which 
some of the best men about the King wisely foresaw, and trembled at 
Ihe event of every battle that was fought, whoever happened to be the 
victors. It was the dread of these misfortunes, that hindered the lords 
aqd commons, whom the King called to Oxford, to assume to them* 
felycs the name of the Parliament of England, and from declaring those 

f Wtlwo«d^ Mtmoin, p. Or, k teq. 


met at Westminster rsbels; thoujih the King again and again impor- 
tuned them to it, and took their refusal so ilU that, in one of his letteit 
to the Queen, he called them in derision his Mungrel Parliament.' 

Thus far Dr. Welwood. Let us now hear the account the Earl of 
Clarendon gives of the beginning of the civil war * • * The rebellion of 
Ireland, says that noble historian, which was highly detrimental to the 
King's affairs that began to recover life, broke out in all parts of the 
kingdom, during his Majesty^s stay in Scotland, and made a wonderfol 
impression upon the minds of men, who were induced to believe, that it 
was influenced by the court; tlie scandal of which aspersion stuck vpMi 
the Queen'sskirts. Some time after, the King commanded his attorney- 
general to accuse the Lord Kimbolton, and five commoners, of high- 
treason; and, the next day, his Majesty, attended by his ordinary 
guard ajid some few gentlemen, came to the house of commons; and, 
commanding his attendants to wait without, himself with the prince 
elector his nephew, went into the house, to the great astonishment of 
all,' to demand the impeached members: but finding, as he said, the 
birds were all flown, he returned to Whitehall, and the house, in great 
disorder, adjourned till the next day. When the Lord Digby, the only 
pefson that gave the counsel, found the ill success of the impeachment 
m both houses, he advised the King to go the next morning to the Guild* 
Eall, and acquaint the mayor and aldermen of the grounds of it. As 
he passed through the city, the rude people croud^ together, crying 
put, '* Privilege of parliament, privilege of parliament.*^ However, the 
King, though much mortified, pursued his resolution, and, having 
dined with one of the sherifli, he returned to Whitehall; and, the next 
day, a proclamation came forth, for the apprehension of the accused 
members, forbidding any persons to conceal, or entertain them. These 
proceedings of the King created a wonderful change in the minds of all 
sorts of people; all the former noise of plots against the parliament, 
which before had been laughed at, was now thought to be built upon 
good grounds ; and what hitherto had been only whispered of Ireland, 
was now talked aloud, and published in print. They, who with the 
greatest courage had thwarted seditious practices, were now confounded 
with the thoughts of what had been done, and what was like to follow. 
Though they were far from imagining the accused members had been 
much wronged, yet they thought they had been called to an account 
at a very unseasonable time ; and the exposing the dignity and safety 
of the King, in his coming in person, in that manner, to the house of 
commons, and going the next day to the Guildhall, where he met with 
such reproaches to his face, added to their anger and indignation : all 
which was justly charged upon the Lord Digby, who was before less 
beloved than he deserved, and was now the most universally hated of 
any man in the nation; and yet continued in his Majesty'aconfidence.-^ 
When the King perceived how ill his accusation against the ^ye members 
succeeded, and that all, who expressed any signal zeal to his service, 
would be removed from him, under the notion of dehnquentb, be re- 
solved the Queen should remove to Portsmouth, and that himself would 

• See Cleraodoa*! Hi»toij of the ReMlioD. 


gn to Hull (where Mi magazme lay ;) and that, being secured in those 
places of fltrengtby whither his friends might resort and be protected, ht 
would sit quiet, till the angry part could be brought to reason. But 
this resolution was discovered to the leading members, who obtained 
orders from the parliament, for securing Hull and Portsmouth; for 
which reason, and a promise from several lords, that they would vigor- 
ously unite to support the regal power, together with the extreme fear 
die Queen had of danger, that counsel was laid aside, and it was con* 
eluded the Queen should transport henelf to Holland, there to provide 
arms and ammunition ; and the King retire to York, and listen to no 
particulars, till he knew bow far the alteration would extend. Hitherto 
die greatest acts of hostility, excepting Sir John Hotham's denying the 
King entrance into Hull, were no more than votes and orders; but now 
the King saw he was so far from having Hull restored, that the garison 
there increased daily, so that Sir John Hotham was better able to take 
York, than his Majesty to recover Hull; and therefore he thought 
it now high time to follow their example, and put himself into 
a posture of defence. Hereupon, such gentlemen, as were willif^, 
listed themselves, by his Majesty's appointment, into a troop of horse, 
of whom the Prince of Wales was made captain; which, with one re« 
giment of trained- bands, was his body-guard. As soon as they heard 
at London, that the King actually had a guard, these votes were pub- 
lished by both houses: ^That the King, seduced by evil counsellors, 
intended to make war against the parliament : that, whensoever he did 
se, it would be a breach of the trust reposed in him, contrary to his 
oath, and tending to the dissolution of the government : and that who- 
soevcrshall serve him, or assist him in such wars, were tray tors, by the 
fundamental laws of the kingdom, and had been so adjudged by two 
acts of parliament, S Rich. H. and 1 Hen. IV.** These votes were 
sent to the King at York, with a petition, that he would disband his 
new-raised forces, and content himself with his ordinary guard; other- 
wise they should hold themselves bound with their utmost care to serve 
the parliament, and secure the publick peace/ 

Upon the Kingfs denying their demand, they began to provide for the 
Fusing of an army : and here the same noble author thinks it not amiss 
to consider the method of God's justice, * That the same principles 
should be used to the extorting all sovereign power from the crown, 
which the crown had a little before used to extend its authority beyond 
its bounds, to the prejudice of the just rights of the subject. A sup- 
posed necessity was then thought reason sufficient to create a power of 
taxing the subject, as they thought convenient, by writs of ship-money, 
never known before; and a supposed necessity is now more fatally con- 
cluded a good plea to exclude the crown from the exercise of any power, 
by an oidinance of parliament, for ordering the militia, never before 
heard of; and the same maxim of * Sal us populi suprema lex,' which had 
been used to break in upon the liberty of the people, was applied for 
the destroying the rights of the crown. The King (pursues our author) 
conceiving the rumours spread abroad might induce many to bi*lieve he 
intended to raise a war against his parliament, he profe^ed in council, 
and said, ** He declared to all the world, that he ever had an abhor- 


rcnce to such designs ; but that all his endeavours aimed at a suite aeW 
tlement of the protestant religioD, the just privileges of parliament, the 
liberty of the subject, the law, peace, and prosperity of this kingdom/' 
However, about this time, the King, by the advice of some eminent jud^ 
ges and lawyers, issued out a declaration concerning the militia, assert^ 
ing the right of the crown in granting commissions of array for the bet- 
ter government thereof, and dispatched those commissions into all coun- 
ties, exprcsly forbidding any obedience to be paid to the ordinance for 
the militia by both houses, under the penalty of high*treason. This 
only exasperated the paper-combates in declarations, each party insist- 
ing the law was on their side; to which the people yielded obedience, 
as they saw it for their convcniency. Some men, well-aff^ted to the 
crown, and averse to the extravagant carriage of the House of Commons, 
could not conceal their aversion to the commission of array, as a thing 
unwarrantable by law ; and many believed, if the King had applied 
himself to the old known way of lords lieutenants, and their deputies, it 
had been more beneficial to his service; for the people, having never 
heard of a commission of array, were easily blown up to a jealousy by 
the specious suggestions of the houses. Some time after, the King'made 
a vain attempt upon Hull, and, upon his return to York, found himself, 
by an accident that fell out, under an absolute necessity of declaring 
war. The accident was, that Colonel Goring, governor of Portsmouth, 
had declared for his Majesty, and refused to obey the parliament; who 
had thereupon sent Sir William Waller, with an army under his com- 
mand, to reduce that town. The King*s affairs received a considerable 
reputation, in that so important a place as Portsmouth, and so good an 
officer as Goring was returned to his duty ; whereupon, he forthwith 
publishetl a declaration, in which he recited all the insolent rebellious 
actions of the two houses against him, forbidding all hb subjects to pay 
any obedience to them ; and at the same time published his proclama- 
tion, ** requiring all men, who could bear arms, to come to him at Not- 
tingham, whert he intended to set up his royal standard ; which all his 
good subjects were obliged to attend." Thus far the Earl of Clarendon. 
By all which passages it appears, that, after reciprocal provocations 
given, and naany Unwarrantable things done on both sides, two con** 
tending parties, in the same nation, rose up in arms, endeavouring 
the one to conquer and destroy the other ; and what is this but a civil 

The authors of the libels published against Dr. Kennet are so unfair, 
at to suspect the praises he bestows, in the first page of his sermon, up- 
on King Charles, whom he sincerely and justly calls ' the martyr of the 
day, and one of the most virtuous and most religious of our Elnglish princes,' 
as if, thereby, he only intended to conveigh the deadly poison more easily 
and effectually. But, to pass over these malicious slurs, let us proceed 
to the vindication uf the Doctor's g^^neral positions; the first of which 
is, ' That a French interest and alliance was one of the leading causes of 
the King's murder. 

To prove this, Dr. Kennet justly * remarks, * That there was that 
frame and constitution in our ancestors, that their true English hearts 

* See Us Semon, p. T. 


had coDtmiiany tome tecret ayenion and antipathy to that neighbourw 
ing nation ; and diat England and France, like Rome and Carthage, 
stood always jealous and reviling one another. The old English avenac- 
oon, continiies he, seems to have hegun with the Norman conquest ; 
when our good ibre-^thers, then lately secured by the best laws and li- 
berties in the world, were invaded and subdued by a pretender from 
France ; and thi^ soon felt that foreign yoke to be so hard and griwous, 
that they would gladly have shaken it off; but, the more patience they 
were forced to, the more they hated those insolent new lords and masters, 
calling often for thar old liberties and the laws of King Edward. This 
anger, and sort of aversion to the French, did continue fixed and rooted 
in the minds of our right English forefathers; and it was this inbred spi- 
rit of emulation, that so often led our English armies into the bowels of 
France, and, in the reprisals of honour, conquered that kingdom more 
than once, but never once more suffered this kingdom to be conquered by 
the French/ To deny this would betray an absolute ignorance of our 
English history, and therefore I shall not go about to illustrate it by 

It is certain,that nothing could ever allay the natural aversion, the En- 
glish have to the French, but the conformity in religion with some of 
the latter; and it was only upon that score, that the nation was well 
pleased with the seasonable assistance, which Queen Elisabeth yielded, 
from time to time, to the reformed of France* And, by the succours 
that politick princess was all along sending to the United Provinces, she 
put an invincible bar to the progress Spain and Rome were then nntking 
towards universal empire, and kept the balance of power even between 
die two great monarchies of Europe. 

But Sie next prince, ^ James the First, did not tread in her stops, 
while he goYemed. * National, or the protestant interest was no where 
pursued ; secret negotiations were carried on with the Pope ; the protea* 
tants were not only oppressed in Germany, but reduced to the last ex- 
tremity ; and besieged in Montauban by Lewis the Thirteenth, and in 
Rochelle by Count Soissons and the Duke of Guise; and all, that was 
done towards their relief from hence, was by a mediation carried on 
without any vigour. And, which gave the people dreadful apprehen- 
sions, Spain, in those days, was still formidable, and an over-balance for 
all the rest of Europe; whose designs, instead of being opposed, were 

Eromoted by England, and the King meanly courted an alliance with 
is greatest enemy. The fear of universal monarchy awakened the whole 
kingdom, and brought on that parliament, which was assembled in 1621 ; 
whone very plain remonstrances were presented to the throne, setting 
forth the dangers that threatened the nation, who still had a fr»h sense 
of the calamities their ancestors had suffered, under the reign of Queen 
Mary. But Spanish gold had charmed our court ; and that parlia- 
ment was dismissed in anger, and several of the principal members were 
imprisoned, who could not sit silently and see their country lost. Thus 
thb old prince chose rather to follow the dictates of his own will, and 
the pernicious advice of his favourites and minbters, than the faithful 

* Ste D'AnmUkt* Xssaj on BftUact of PoweTi p. 8. Sect. 7' 


and disintereited couniel of hb pariiamentiy ytho addressed to him to 
arm, and to enter into such leagues as might oppose the growth of the 
Spani&h monarchy. 6ui he entertained secret hopes, that so potest an 
alliance, as that with Spain appeared to be, would make him more pow- 
erful over his own people; and so, notwithstanding the representations 
of his Lords and Commons, in order to accomplish this match, he broke 
some of those wholesome and necessary laws, made against papists, which 
at last proved fatal to him and his posterity; for, by his rough dealings 
with the House of Commons, he then sowed the seeds of that discontent, 
which ended in the ruin of his son* The general clamours of the peo- 
ple, and their fear of the power of Spain, produced in that reign ano- 
ther parliamenr, which sat in l62d, and then the Spanish match was 
broken off,* 

Hereupon, the states general of the United Provinces recommended a 
protestant lady to King James; but that prince, being resolved to have 
the daughter of a great King for his son, did fatally turn his eye to Hen* 
rietta Maria, daughter of France. 

* The marriage-treaty was not so fair, smooth, and plausible in the 
progress, as in the entrance. For the French, perceiving that King Jamos 
desired the match unmeasurably, abated of their forwardness, enlarged 
their demands in &vour of the papists, as the Spaniards had done be^ 
fore; and strained the King to the concession of such immunities, as he 
had promised to his parliament he would never grant, upon ihe media- 
tion of foreign princes*.' Cardinal Richelieu, who began to have the sole 
management of the French King's affairs, in concert with Spada, the 
Pope^s nuncio, took all imaginable precautions, by this treaty, to ad- 
vance the Romish religion and interest, hoping, as indeed it proved, that 
the ecclesiasticks, the queen was allowed to bring over with her, would 
propagate the popish foith ; and that the descendants of that marriage^ 
who were to be under the tuition and government of their mother, till 
they came to the full age of thirteen, would by that time have sufficient* 
ly imbibed her religion, and should in time sit upon the English throne ; 
which the protestants of this kingdom felt to their sorrow; for, of Hen- 
riettta's two sons t» who reigned after their fether {, one|| did all along 
secretly favour the Roman catholicks, and, ' ^ after a continued diasi* 
roulation, and a most scandalous life,' died in that ** persuasion ; and 
the other ftt ' though not so dissolute in his manners, did not scruple to 
own his true sentiments, and, notwithstanding his solemn promise to 
maintain the protestant religion, by law established, endeavoured by open 
force to destroy it.* 

The conclusion of the marriage treaty was attended, in France, with 
many outward and voluntary expressions of joy, as, bonfires, and illumi- 
nations ; but it was only by express orders from the privy-council, that 
the like was done in London. For as Dr. Ken net says very justly, 
* our English people never could heartily approve any royal match in- 
to the cDurt of France ; and, wherever any such match was entered into 
by our former governors, it seems to have been against the genius of our 

• Sm Rttthvorth't Collections. Vol. FT p. 52. t ChArle^ and Jamet. t Charl«i I. 
I Charles It. ) S«e Le V4isor llUtoire tie Looa Xili. •'' l'opi»li. ft J«mM iL 


iMople, and tberefore fatally against the interest of these princes/ He 
instances the two unfortunate reigns of Edward the Second, andRichard 
the Second, whose marriages into that court had the consequence of a 
calamitous life, and on untimely death, to these two monarchs. 

* There was somewhat of the like pernicious influence/ adds Dr. 
Rennet that worked upon the tragedy of this day* Our royal mar- 
tyr, by taking a royal consort from the Bourbon family, did apparently 
bring over some evils and mischiefs that disturbed his whole reign : For, 
within lest than one year, the French servants of that queen grew so im- 
perioQs and insolent, that the King was forced to discharge them> and to 
humble them by a return into their own country/ 

* A very sad doom it was certainly to the French, says one of our * 
Ei^lbb historians ; but, as the animadversion was extreme severe, so 
their offences were in likc5 degree heinous. The bishop of Mende, the 
queen's almoner, stood charged for putting intolerable scorn upon, and 
making religion itself do penance, by enjoining her majesty, under the 
notion of penance, to go barefoot, to spin, and to wait upon her family 
servants at their oi^dinary repasts, to walk on foot in the mire on a rainy 
Biomingy from Somerset- house to St. James's; her confessor, mean 
while, like Lucifer himself, riding by her in his coach; but, which it 
worst of all, to make a pi ogress to Tyburn, there to present her devo- 
tions for the departed souls of the Papists, who had been executed at 
that place, on account of the gunpowder treason, and other enormous 
crimes* A most impious piaculary, whereof the King said acutely, that 
the action can have no greater invective than the reiation. The other 
lex were accused of crimes of another nature, whereof. Madam St. 
George was, as in dignity of office, so in guilt, the principal; culpable 
she was in many particulars, but her most notorious and unpardonable 
fiuilt was, her being an accursed instrument of some unkindness between 
the King and Queen. These incendiaries once cashired, the Queen, 
who formerly shewed so much waspish protervity, soon fell into a mode 
of loving compliance. \ But, though this rcnvoy of her Majesty's servants 
imported domestick peace, >et was it attended with an ill aspect from 
Prance, though our King, studying to preserve fair correspondence with 
his brother, sent the Lord Carleton, with instructions to represent a true 
account of theaction, with all the motives to it; but his reception was 
very coarse, being never admitted to audience. Lewis dispatched Mon- 
sieur the Marshal de Bassompierre, as extraordinary ambassador to our 
King, to demand the restitution of the Queen's domesticks; which he at 
last obtained for most of them/ 

* It t ^^ tbis match/ adds Dr. Kennet, * that began to corrupt our 
nation with French modes and vanities; (which gave iiccasion to Mr. 
Prynn, to write that seven: invective, called Histrio-Mastix, against the 
stage-plays) to betray our counsels to the French court; to weaken the 
poor protestants in France, by rendering inefl'ectual the relief of Rochelle; 
nay, and to lessen our own trade and navigation. These ill efiects, be- 
yond the King's intention, raised such a jealousy, and spread such a 

* II- L'Ettraojie Sa bis Eeignof King Charles disposed into Aojula. i Dr. Krnnet's St> 
liion, page 9 and 10. 


damp upon the English subjects, that it was unhappily turned into ont 
of the unjust occasions of civil war: Which indeed began more out of 
hatred to that party, than out of any disafiection to the King. The 
people thought themselves too much under French counsels, and a 
French ministry, or else, they could never have been drawn aside into 
that j^reat rebellion. This interest, when suspected to prevail, brought 
the King into urgent difficulties ; and in the midst of them the aid and 
assistance, which that interest offered him, did but the more effectually 
weaken him. On this side the water, the French services betrayed him ; 
and on the other side, the French policies were at work to destroy 

And indeed, as Queen Henrietta had a mighty, if not a supreme in« 
flucncc over King Charles's counsels, so did her mother, Mary de,Mc« 
dicis, who came over by her invitation, administer great cause of jea* 
lousy to this nation. * The people (says the same * historian I men* 
tioned before) were generally malecontent at her coming, and wished 
her farther off. For they did not like her train and followers, which had 
often been observed to be the sword or pestilence, so that she was behold 
as some meteor of ill signification. Nor was one of these calamitiet 
thought more the effect of her fortune than inclination; for her restless 
and unronstant spirit was prone to embroil all wheresoever she came. 
And besides, as Queen Henrietta was extraordinary active in raising 
money, among the Roman Catholicks of this kingdom, to enabla 
King Charles to make war against his subjects of Scotland, so was sha 
extreme busy in fomenting the unhappy differences between his Majesty 
and his English parliament.' 

* The French, says the Earl of Clarendon t> according to thar na- 
ture, were much more active and more intent upon blowing the fire. 
The former commotions in Scotland, had been raised by special encou« 
ragcment, if notcontnvc\nce, of the Cardinal Richelieu; and by his ac« 
tivity all these distempers were carried on till his death, and by his rules 
and principles afterwards. Since the beginning of this parliament (in 
I64O) the French ambassador. Monsieur la Ferte, dissembled not'to 
have notable familiarity with those who governed most in the two hou- 
ses, discovered to them whatsoever he knew, or could reasonably devise, 
to the prejudice of the King's counsc^lsand resolutions; and topk all op- 
portunities to lessen and undervalue the King's regal power, by apply- 
ing himself on publick occasions of state, and in his Majesty's name, and 
to improve his interest to the two houses of parliament, which had in no 
age b fore been ever known.-^Bcsidis these indirect artifices in tht 
FrenchJ ambassador, very many of the Hugonots in France were decla- 
red enemies to the King. And, as this animosity proved of unspeakable 
inconvenience and damage to the King, so the occasion* from whence 
these disaffections grew, was very imprudently administered by the state 
here. Not to speak of the business of Rochclle, which, though it stuck 
deep in all, yet most imputed the counsels of that time to men that were 
dead, and not a fixed design of the court. They had a great quarrel, 

• H L'Fstrange*s Aaaals of King Gfaarles, page 156. i HUtory of Uie Evbellion, Vol, IL 


i»hich made tbem believe, that their very religion was persecuted by 
the ^Church of England. Queen Elisabeth, finding and well know- 
ing what notable uses might be made of the French, Dutch, and Wal* 
loonsywho, in the time of King Edward the Sixth, transplanted them- 
selves into England, enlarged their privileges by new concessions; draw* 
ing by this means great numbers over, and suffering them to enjoy the 
exercise of the reformed religion after their own manner. And so they 
had churches in Norwich, Canterbury, and other places, as well as in 
London; whereby the wealth of those places marvellously increased* 
The same charters of liberty were continued to them, during the peace-* 
able reign of King James, and in the beginning of this King's reign* 
Some few years before these troubles, when the power of church-men 
grew more transcendent, and indeed the faculties and understandings of 
lay-counsellors more dull, lazy, and unactive, upon pretence that the 
French, Dutch, and Walloons exceeded the liberties which were grants 
ed to tbem, and that, under the notion of foreigners, many English sepa« 
rated from the church, the council-board connived at, whilst the bishops 
didsomeactsof restraint,with which thesecongregationsgrew generally dis« 
contented, and thought the liberty of their consciences to be taken from 
them; which caused in London much complaining of this kind, but 
much more in the diocess of Norwich, where Dr. Wren, the bishop 
there, passionately and warmly proceeded against them ; so that many 
left the kingdom, to the lessening the wealthy manufacture there of ker« 
leys and narrow cloths.— And whereas in all former times, the ambassa-* 
dors, and all foreign ministers of state, employed from England, into any 
parts where the reformed religion was exercised, frequented their church- 
es, gave all possible countenance to their profession, and particularly 
the ambassador Liej*er at Paris, had diligently and constantly frequent- 
ed the church at Charenton, and held a fair intercourse with those of 
that religion throughout thekint^dom, by which they had still received 
advantage. The contrary to this was now with great industry practised, 
and some advertisements, if not instructions, given to the ambassador 
there, to forbear any extraordinary commerce, with the men of that pro« 
fesuon. And the Lord Scudamore, who was the last ordinary ambas- 
sador there, before the beginning of this parliament, not only declined 
goingto Charenton, but furnished his own chapel with such ornaments a« 
gavegreatofiV-nce and umbrage to those of the reformation there, who had 
nofseen the like. Besides that, he was careful to publish upon all occa- 
sions, that the Church of England looked not on the Hugonots as a part 
of their communion: Which was likewise too much and too Industrie 
pusly discoursed at home. — They of the Church of England, who com- 
mitted the greatest errors this way, had undoubtedly not the least 
thoughts of making alterations in it, towards the countenancing of po- 
pery, as has been uncharitably conceived; but unskilfully believed, 
that the total declining the interest of that party, where it exceeded the 
necessary bounds of reformation, would make this Church of England 
looked upon with more reverencei, And so the Church of England, not 
giving the same countenance to those of the religiim in foreign paits, 
which it had foimerly done, no sooner was discerned to be under a cloud 
it homei but those of the religion abroad were glad of the occasion, to 

X 2 


publish their malice against her, and to enter into the same conspiracy 
flj^aiuM the crown, witl^oot which they Could have done little hurt to the 

* Many tender lovers of their faith and conntry, says Dr. Kennet % ' 
might well'drplorc the Un happiness of that alliance, with France, which 
gave no small occasion to the calamity and the curse of this day; for it 
was from thence, that did arise the apprehensions and fears of popery : 
Popery that irreconcileable enemy, not only to our reformed faith and 
worship, but to our civil rights, liberties, and properties, to our estab- 
Fished laws, and to our s(*ttled constitution. It was for this wise and 
good reason, that our first reformers would never bear with any express 
toleration of popery, nor with any long connivance at it. That excellent 
young Josiah, King Edward Vl, would not dispense with his own sister 
to have publick mass in her own family. Queen Elisabeth indulged 
theni no longer than while there were some hopes to reclaim them. Her 
next successor, King Jamc*s, was a champion against popery, and 
strenuously opposed it, both as a wise governor, and a learned writer; 
and this gave peace and happiness to the greatest part of his administra* 
tion. But, when toward the decline of it, he fell into a treaty for a 
match with Spain, and, daring that treaty, did in a manner suspend 
the laws against the papists, and gave his subjects an occasion to believe, 
that one article of that match was to be a toleration of popery, this 
gave such universal jealousy and discontent to his people, and the pai^ 
fiaments of them, that it threatened apparent danger; and, if that treaty 
had not broke off, and thereby eased the minds of people, we know not 
what might have been in the end thereof. For certainly his royal son, 
the martyr of this day, might justly impute many of his troubles to 
these fears and jiralousic^ of popery. And they really began with the 
' FR*nch alliance, where one article was to have a publick chapel, arui 
priests and mass for the queen and her housbold. This gave an oppor- 
tunity of open resort to all papists, foreigners and natives; this gav« 
shelter and protection to swarms of Jesuits and other emissaries from 
Rome; this gained an interest at court for pardons and for patents of 
pro6t and preferment to the leading Roman Catholicks; this brought 
over one or two Nuncio's from the pope, to attend upon the Queen. In 
shorty this did give countenance to popery; and therefore did cast 
a damp and dread upon many sincere protestants; and did put them 
into such terrible apprehensions of the Romans coming to take away 
their place and nation, that this strength of fear too much began the 
civil war, and helped to carry it forward to the innocent and sacred 
blood shed upon this day.' 

In all these. Dr. Kennet speaks with the most authentick and faithful 
historians: 'The Jesuits, seminary priests, and other recusants, says f 
H. Llilstrange, presuming protection, by reason of the late match, con- 
tracted so much insolence, that at Winchester, and many other places, 
they frequently passed through tlie churches in time of divine service, 
bouting and ho-lo-ing, not only to the disturbance of that duty, but 

• Pr. Kc&BcA SaiMB, ptft J 1, IS, 13, 14. t Annm\% of King [Ouu-Im's Eetn, la tiM jetr 


tcorn of our religion; yea, and one -popish lord, when the King was at 
cbapcl, was heard to prate on purpose louder, in a gallery adjoining^ 
Chan the chaplain prayed, whereat the King was so moved, that he sent 
this message to him : Either let him come and do as we do, or el^ I 
will make him prate farther off/ 

In the year l627» a notable discovery was made of a college of Jesuits 
at Clerkenwell, of which the same * author give& us this account. * The 
first information was given by one Crosse, a raesbenger to Secretary 
Coke, whereupon he sent the sheriff to attack them ; who, coming with 
a formidable -power, found all the holy foxes retired, and sneaked away ; 
•but, after long search, their place of security was found out, it being a 
lobby behind a new brick'Wall wainscotted over ; which, being demo- 
Jished, ^hey were presently unkennelled, to the number of ten. They 
iband also divers letters from the pope to them, irapowering them to 
erect this college, under the nameof Domus Probationis (but it proved 
Heprobationis) Sancti Ignatii; and their books of accounts, whereby it 
appeared they had five-hundred pounds per annum contribution from 
thrir benefactors^ and had purchased four-hundred and fifty pounds, 
per annum.' 

Among their papers, says f Mr. Rushworth, was found a copy of a 
letter written to their father rector at Brussels, discovering their designs 
upon this state; of which I shall transcribe these remarkable passages: 
* Let not the damp of astoiHshment seize upon your ardent and zealous 
souls, in the apprehending the sudden calling of a parliament : we have 
uot opposed, but rather furthered it. You must know, the council is 
engaged to assist the King by way of prerogative, in case the parlia- 
mentary way should fail. You shall sec this parliament will ri'semblc . 
the pelican, which takes a pleasure to dig out witli her beak her own 
bowels. The election of knights and burgesses has been in such con- 
fusion 'of apparent faction, as that which we were wont to procurjs 
heretofore, with much art and industry (when the Spanish mutch was 
in treaty) now breaks out naturally, as a br»tch or boil, and spits and 
spews out its own rancour and venom. That great statesman, tho 
Count of Gundomar, had but one principal means to further bis great 
and good designs, which was to set on King James, that none but tho 
puritan faction, which plotted nothing but anarchy, and his confusion, 
were averse to this most happy alliance and union. We etecred on the 
same course, and have made great use of this anarchical election, and 
have prejudicated and anticipated the great one, that none but the King's 
enemies, and his, are chosen of this parliament. We have now inany 
strings to our bow, and have strongly fortified our faction, and have 
added two bulwarks more. Now we have planted thai sovereign drug 
Anninianism, which we hope will purge the proti*stants from their 
heresy, 'i'he. materials, which build up our bulwark, arc the prnjcc* 
tors and beggars of all ranks and qualities : Howsoever, both these 
factions co-operate to destroy the parliament, and to introduce a new 
species and form of government, which is oligarchy. These serve as 
direct mediums and instruments to our end, which is the uni\ersal 

^ r«Se 75. tRashvorUi't Collceliona, part I. page #74 



catholick monarchy. Our foundation must be mutation, and mutation 
will cause a relaxation, which will serve as so many violent diseases, 
to the speedy destruction of our perpetual and insuperable anguish of 
body. The iirminians and projectors affect mutation: This we second, 
and inforce by probable arguments. In the first place, we take into 
consideration the King's honour, and present necessity; and we shew 
bow the King may free himself of his ward, as Lewis the Eleventh did. 
As for his great splendour and lustre he may raise a vast revenue, and 
not be beholden to his subjects, which is by way of imposition of excise. 
Then our church catholicks proceed to shew the means how to settle 
this excise, which must be by a mercenary army of horse and foot. 
For the horse we have made that sure ; they shall be foreigners and 
Germans, who will eat up the King's revenues, and spoil the country, 
though they should be well paid. In forming the excise, the country is 
most likely to rise; if the mercenary army subjugate the country, then 
the soldiers and projectors shall be paid out of the confiscations; if tho 
.coantry be too hard for the sol diet's, then they must consequently 
notiny, which is equally advantageous to us; our superlative design is, 
to work the protestants as well as the Roman catholicks to welcome in 
« conqi^eror. 

All this is confirmed by the testimony of the Earl of Clarendon : 
^ The papists *, says that illustrious historian, who had for many years 
enjoyed a great calm, grew unthrifty managers of their prosperity : 
They appeared more publickly ; entertained and forced conference moro 
avowedly, than had been known before. They were known not only 
secret authors, but open promoters of the most grievous projects. I'bo 
priests had forgot their former modesty and fear, and were as willing to 
be known, as listened to : Insomuch as a Jesuit at Paris, designing for 
England, had the impudence to visit the ambassador there, and offering 
bis service, acquainted him with his intended journey, as if there had 
been no laws for his reception. And, shamefully to countenance the 
whole party, an agent from Rome resided at London in great state. 
They had publickly collected money to a considerable sum, to be by 
tlie Queen presented, as a free gift from his catholick subjects to the 
King, towards carrying on the war against the Scots, which drew upon 
them the rage of that nation. In a word, they behaved themselves so, 
as if they had been suborned by the Scots, to destroy their own religion.' 
Let us now listen to a foreign t historian, who has published 
bis revolutions of England, with the particular approbation of the 
late King James, and who, being a Jesuit, cannot be suspected of 
partiality to the protestants. * The Scots, says he, finding them- 
selves so strongly supported, had no sooner received an answer from 
the court, than there arose a thousand confused voices, crying out that 
all was lost ; that the King, not contented with having taken away from 
the two nations both their liberties and goods, designed to lay a yoke on 
their consciences, and make an absolute change in religion. These 
complaints had not moved the generality of people, nor rendered the 
government sulHcicntly odious, according to the wishes of the discon* 

* llUtory of Ui« |Lob0lUo9i part T. book IF. -f Father D'OrleanSi hU RerolttUon^ of Eog* 

lutd. Vol. Ui» pHg. $^ 


tented, had it not been insinuated besides, that the King made great 
advances to popery, and Resolved to make his subjects embrace it* 
Nothing was more false than this report. Charles was a protestant by 
inclination, and never loved the Roman catholicks; but that very reporr, 
tho' ^ftlse, bad such appearances of truth, as made it easily believed* 
We must do. the Queen the justice to s^iy, that she had, during all her 
life, a true zeal for the restoration of the catholick faith in England, 
and for the honour of the King her husband : but it cannot be denied, 
that sometimes she practised that zeal with somewhat more imperious- 
ness, than the time allowed. Acted by that spirit, which results from 
the blood of those absolute monarchs, of whom their subjects require no 
other reason for their commands, than their will, she did not suOiciently 
consider, that she reigned in a country, where the most solid reasons 
arc not always able to make the people follow the opinion of those who 
govern them. So limited an authority, and which must be managed 
with art, was looked on by the Queen as a slavery, from which she used 
all her endeavours to free the King Iier husband and herself. I'herefore, 
without much regarding the nicety of the nation, she had constantly 
near her a nuncio from the pope, of whose character and functions none 
at court were ignorant. She entertained an open correspondence with 
the popish lords; she loudly, and sometimes roughly, made herseira 
party in any thing wherein the Roman church was concerned ; and 
having with her a great number of ecclesiasticks, who had been restored 
to her by the peace, and who, some of them, had more piety than pru* 
dence, she had frequent disputes with the most zealous protestants, 
wherein the King, who loved her tenderly, indulged her humour, and 
even took her part, when she desired it of him. This conduct of 
Charles, in relation to his Queen, had already made him suspected of 
not being too good a protestant, whatever he did to appear such, when 
the zeal he shewed for the undertaking of Archbishop Laud, viz. the 
intnxlucing the English liturgy in Scotland, increasing that suspicion, 
gave occasion to his enemies to publish, that he was a Roman catholick, 
and that, in concert with that prelate, he made it his business to recon- 
cile England to the sea of Rome. The conduct of Laud was such as 
made these suspicions probable : for tho' every body agrees now, that, 
like the King bis roaster, he was a zealous stickler for the protestant 
sect, yet there was then reason not to tiiink so of him, by the fondness 
that prelate had for ceremonies; by the advice he gave to young students, 
to read the fathers, rather than the protestant divines; by his denial to 
admit the decisions of thesynodof Dort; and much more than all this, by 
tlie conduct of thcEarl of Strafford,lord-lieutenant ofIreland,his intimate 

friend, and confident of all his designs. That prelate had procured 

him the government of Ireland, in hopes he should second his projects; 
and that Lord wisely foreseeing that Laud would raise all the presbyterians 
against the King, raised an army in that island, to maintain the royal 
authority; and though he was a protestant, as well as his master and 
friend, he had done the Roman catholicks the honour to believe them 
better affected to their prince, than the rest : and therefore had composed 
his army of them.' 



What the Jesuit advances concerning Archbishop Laud, may be 
farther illustrated by what Dr. Welwood says * of that prelate, * That 
scarce any age has produced a man, whose actions and conduct have 
been more obnoxious to obloquy, or given greater occasion for it. There 
was, adds the doctor, one thread that run through his whole accu* 
sation, and upon which most of the articles of his impeachment turned ; 
And that was, his inclination to popery, and his design to introduce 
the Romish religion: of which his immortal book against Fisher, and 
his declaration at his death, do sufficiently acquit him. And yet not 
protestants only, but even Roman Catholicks themselves were led into 
this mistake ; otherwise they would not have dared to offer one in his . 
post a cardinal's cap, as he confesses in his diary they did twice. The 
introduction of a great many pompous ceremonies into the church ; the 
licensing some books that spoke favourably of the church of Rome, and 
the refusing to license others that were writ against it, were the princi* 
pal causes of his being thus misrepresented. And, indeed, his behaviour 
in some of these matters, as likewise in the star-chamber, and high* 
commission-court, can hardly be accounted for, and particularly his 
theatrical manner of consecrating Catharine Creed church, in London; 
which is related at length by Mr. Rush worth, in the second part of his 
Jiistorical Collections, vol. L p. 7^» 

By all these it plainly appears, that the doubts and fears of popery 
were not groundless, and, according to Dr. Kenneths assertion, ' That 
they lost an orthodox and most regular prince the hearts of too many of 
his people; and almost robbed bim of the next valuable blessing, his 
good-name. For, upon his tender compliance with his intirely beloved 
royal consort, his enemies took advantage to misrepresent bim for a 
papist ; though this was a calumny false and malicious/ 

In the thiid place, f Dr. Kennet mentions the jealousies, the thoughts 
and dread of oppression and illegal power, among the leading causes of 
the King's murder : for, as he wisely remarks, * Tyranny and oppres* 
sion seem in their nature made to hate, and, yet to help forward one 
another. And former princes did rarely infringe the charter of publick 
liberties, without hurtmg themselves, and leaving a wound upon mo« 
narchy itself. For the least attempts towards slavery and exorbitant 
power raised up the appearance of a yoke, that our forefathers were not 
able to bear, and we are their offspring. Doctor Kennet is far from 
thinking, that King Charles ever proposed to injure the birth-right of 
his subjects. But, adds he, how happy had it been for the peace of that 
reign, if even doubts and suspicions had been wanting, if the body of a 
good-natured English people bad but thought themselves secure in their 
legal rights and tenures, for then they could never have been seduced 
into tha^ unnatural rebellion. They must of necessity first believe, that 
their liberties and estates wer« in some danger, and, under that prospect 
and persuasion, they must have been drawn in, for the meaning, at 
least, of self-preservation. How happy, if no tonnage or customs had 
been exacted, without a bill to be easily obtained for them! If no awing 
into loans and benevolence, if no projecting extraordinary supplieS| 

* Welvopd's M^Bpirti p. €4. •» Sec hU 8enioD« p. ^. & irq. 



^tboiit the readier aid of parliament ; and especially if no levying of 
•hip-money to the sorprise and barthen of the people, who never had a 
notion of taxes, but as of money given by their own consent ! I'hese 
hardships (to call them by that name only) did serve to exasperate the 
minds of the people, and did prepare them by degrees to be led out first 
in riots and tumults, and then in troops and armies, against their lawful 
sovereign. And though it is certain, that the King himself did not 
hastily contrive or command any of those hard measures ; but he had 
his ministers to propose them, and his very judges to approve them ; yet, 
good prince, he answered for the account, and at the foot of it, with 
invincible patience, paid down his royalty and his life.' 

In all this the reverend divine speaks with the most faithful and im- 
partial historians* In this perplexed difficulty, says * one of these: 
* At length his council agreed to set that great engine his prerogative on 
work : many projects were hammered on that forge, but that, which 
the council stuck closest to, was the issuing of a commission, dated the 
thirteenth of October 1626, for raising of almost two-hundred thousand 
pounds by way of loan; and, the more to expedite this levy, the com* 
missioners were instructed to represent to the subjects the deplorable 
estate of Rochelle. These were plausible insinuations: but all would 
not smooth the asperity of this illegal tax; Rochelle and all other foreign 
considerations must stand by, when inbred liberty is disputed ; so that 
the almost moiety of the kingdom opposed it to durance. Upon this 
account of refusal, prisoners, some of the nobility, and most of the 
prime gentry, were daily brought in by scores; I might almost say by 
counties, so that the council-table bad almost as much work to provide 
prisons, as to supply the King's necessities.' '* I'he assessment of the 
general loan, says f Mr. Rushworth, did not pass currently with the 
people; for some persons absolutely refused to subscribe their names, 
or to say, they were willing to lend, if able. Whereupon the council 
directed their warrant to the commissioners of the navy, to impress those 
men to serve in the ships ready to go out in his Majesty's service. ■ 

The non-subscribers of high rank and right, in all the counties, were 
boMud over by recognisance, to tender their appearance, at the council* 
table, and performed the same accordingly, and divers of them were 
committed to prison; but the common sort to appear in the military 
yard near St. Martin's in the Fields ; before the Lieutenant of the Tower 
of London, by him to be there enrolled among the companies of soldiers ; 
that they, who refused to assist with their purses, should serve in their 
persons." * Among the rest J, Sir Peter Hayman, refusing to part with 
loan-money, was called before the lords of the council, and commanded 
to go into his Majesty's service into the Palatinate. 

* Among other means of raising money, says Dr. Wclwood ||; that of 
loan was fallen upon ; which met with great difficulties, and was gene- 
rally taken to be illegal. One Sihthorp, an obscure person, in a sermon 
preached at the assizes at Northampton, would make his court by 
jRUtserting not only the lawfulness of this way of imposing money by loan, 

•H. L'Estr»BRe'» Relgo of Kio^ Charles, p. 63, 64. t Historic^ CoUeclions, p. 1, Vul. I. 
^.f^.« t lU.pag. 431. I WtlwooU'ft MeuiOirt, p. 44. 

» • 


but that it was the indispensible duty of the subject to comply with it. 
At the same time Dr. Manwaring, another divine, preached two sermons 
before the King at Whitehall, in which he advanced these doctrines^ 
viz. '^ That the King is not bound to observe the laws of the realm, 
concerning the subjects rights and liberties ; but that bis royal word and 
command, in imposing loans and taxes without consent of parliament, 
docs oblige the subject's conscience, upon pain of eternal damnation. 
That those, who refused to pay this loan, did offend against the law of 
God, and became guilty of impiety, disloyalty, and rebellion. And 
that the authority of parliaments is not necessary for raising of aids and 

' Every body knew that Abbot was averse to such doctrines: and, 
to seek an advantage against him, Sibthorp's sermon, with a dedication 
to the King, was sent him by order of his Majesty to license. Abbot 
refused, and gave his reasons in writing ; which Bishop Laud answered, 
and with his own hand licensed both Sibthorp's and Manwaring's ser* 
mons. Upon this Archbishop Abbot was con6ned to his country hous^, 
and suspended from his function; the administration of which was 
committed to Bishop Laud, and some others of his recommendation.' 

How happy had it been for King Charles, if, in his time, instead of 
such divines as Sibthorp and Manwaring, none had ascended the pulpits, 
but men of the principles of Dr. Kennet, who has a right notion of our 
English constitution; ' which, if carefully preserved, holds out in the 
most regular health and safety ; but, if once put out of order, it is hard 
to set right again!' 

Let us now attend how the Earl of Clarendon relates * the grievances 
and oppression of this reign: ' The proclamation, says he, issued out 
at the dissolution of the second parliament, afflicted many good men so 
far, that it laid their ears open to the insinuations of those who made it 
their business to infuse an ill opinion into men, that by it the King de< 
clarcd, he really intended we should have no more parliaments ; and, 
the danger of such an inquisition being by this notion removed, ill men 
were not only encouraged to all license, but even those who had no pro- 
pensity to ill, imagining themselves above the reach of ordinary justice, 
learned by degrees to look on that as no fault, which was like to find 
no punishment. Provisional acts of state were formed to supply defect 
of laws ; so tonnage and poundage, which had absolutely been refused 
to be settled by parliament, were collected upon merchandise by order 
of the council-board; antiquated laws were revived, and with rigour 
executed; — The law of knighthood, which, tho' founded in right, was 
in the method of its execution very grievous; the laws of the forest, by 
virtue of which, not only great fines were imposed, but yearly rents de- 
signed, and like to have been settled by contract; and lastly, for an 
everlasting supply upon all occasions, a writ directed in form of law to 
the sheriff of every county in England, to send a ship amply provided 
for the King's service; and with an instruction, that, instead of a ship, 
such a sum of money should be levied upon each county; with direc- 
tions, how those that were refractory should be proceeded against, from 

" Hiitory of the RebriUon, part I. book I. 


whence that tax was called ship-money, were not the only unjust, scan- 
dalouSy and ridictdous projects at that time set on foot. — And here the 
use the judges were put to in this, and like acts of power, redound much 
to the mischief and damage of the crown and state, in whose integrity 
aod innocence the dignity of the laws mainly resided ; the mysteries of 
which* when they had measured by the standard of what they called' ge- 
neral leason,' and explained by the wisdom of state, they justly deserved 
that irreverence and scorn, with which the House of Peers afterward 
used them* 

* Though the nation, in general, bore no ill-will to the church, ei- 
ther In the point of doctrine or discipline, yet were they jealous that po- 
pery was not sufficiently discouraged, and were easily persuaded to be- 
lieve any thing they had not been used to, and which they called inno- 
vation, was admitted purely to please the Papists. The archbishop • had 
all hb life-time vigorously opposed Calvin's doctrine, and thereupon 
hb enemies called him a Papist.— He retained, when he came into au- 
thority, too sharp a memory of those by whom he had been persecuted ; 
mod was but too guilty himself of the same passion he complained of in 
lib adversaries; that, as they accused him of popery, for maintaining 
some doctrinal points they disliked, so be looked on some persons as ene* 
mies to the disdpline of the church, because they agreed with Calvin in 
ionie points of doctrine. He was a man of great courage and resolu- 
tion, and resolved to make the discipline of the church felt, as well as 
spoken of, applying it without any respect of persons, as much to the 
pcatest, as meanest offenders. There were three persons, Prynne, Bur- 
ton, and Bastwick, most notorious for their avowed malice to the go- 
vernment of the church, which in their several writings they had pub- 
lished. One of them was a divine, the other a common lawyer, and 
the third a doctor of physick ; and, though neither of them had any in- 
terest or esteem with the worthy part of their several professions, yet, 
when they were all sentenced and exposed like common rogues upon 
icaflblds, to have their ears cut off, and their faces and foreheads brand- 
ed with red-hot irons, men b^an no longer to consider their manners, but 
the men, and each profession imagined their education, degree, and qua- 
lity, had raised them above the reach of such infamous judgments, and 
treasured up wrath for the time to come.' 

* llie convocation,' says the same author in another placet*' was, af- 
ter the dissolution of the last parliament, continued by a new writ, and 
sat under the proper name of a synod ; made canons, which men thought 
it might do, and gave subsidies, and enjoined oaths, which, without 
doubt, it could not do; in a word, did several things, which, in the best 
of times, might have been questioned, and were therefore certain to be 
condemned in the worst; and drew the same prejudice upon the whole 
body, to which only some particular clergymen were before exposed. 

' The high -commission court was erected in the first year of Queen 
Elisabeth, and was of great use for the maintaining the peace and dig- 
nity of the church, while it was exercised with moderation. But, of 
iate, the great power of some bishops at court, had made it overflow its 

• Laad* f Wa^arj of t)MR«btUioD, Book 11. 



banks, and tliereupon gained ii many pn^mira. The SUr-ChamlirT 
Court was t>f\Mc grown su rxorbiianl, ihat there wete frw pfnuiti, wh« 
hail not tuffiTcd by it. For ihey had rnlargtd ihi-ir juriuiiction, from 
ihe cngnbancc of riot, perjury, and tiie most notorious misdrmN- 
nors, tn ihe vindicating all prucla mat ions and orders uf stale, lo the main- 
taining illegal commissions and grants of monopolies, so thai no man 
vtas Tree from the lash of it, any longer than he rtsij]vi;d to suhniit 10 
those, and such lite extraordinary coursis. 

Fourthly, amung the causes that conspired in the murder of King 
Charles the First •, Dr Kennet mentions ' the growth of immorality and 
prnphaneDcss, which were unhappily objected to the reign of this pritm, 
though be wa» hiinseif a very devout and conscientious pTifift. And 
really, adds that reverend divine, it was no wonder, if, under the cmvrt 
of popery, a spirit of prophanencasdid more sensibly nlitain. it ii not 
want of charily to say, what we see with our eyes, that the prineiplri 
of popery are adapted to a looseness in morals ; and that ihcrf fere the 
general practice of the members of that church is strict in nuihiof; bat 
liltte outward observations. We are not to believe all the comptainti 
that serious persons made of ihe diisohiteness of the King's a nny at 
that time. It was a juster objection f, ihat the prophaneiiess <if the En- 
glish sta^c began then to be more scandalous, than it had been in former 
times. So very scandalous, that, in pure indignation, a learned tract 
trns wrillen against this growing evil, or, as in its own liile, against ihe 
intolerable mbchiefs and abuses of common plays and play-houtn. 
But this reproof of impiety did so offend the French party, and madt 
themto incense the Queen, iliai the author, Mr. Prynnc, was pro»- 
eu[c<l and sligraaliwd for it, with a severity that uas thought lo b« 

All this is confirmed by the testimonies of hisiorians. ' In the yrar 
l6l6,siiys 11, L'Estrange (in bis annalsl of King Charles's reign) King 
James published a declaration, tolerating sports on the lord's day, c«lkd 
Sunday. This declaration then caused so many impetuous olamoats 
against it, as it was soon atlcr called in; and wai, this October (l63^,n 
revived and mlified by King Charles. The express design of ibis nrn 
to restore the feasts and dedications nfchurchcs, commonly called wake 
to their ancient solemnity, and to allow the use of lawful pastimes in ti 
tower row upon that day. It was also argued in favour of it, that the. 
was in the kingdom a potent tendency in many to Judaism, occasioiw 
by the dangerous doctrine of several pnriinns, especially of i>n< 
lus Brabourn, an obscure and ignorant school -master, asserting the p 
petuul and indispensable morality of the sabbath of the fourth c 
mandment. Again, in others no small inclmation lo popery, nccasioiM 
by the rigour and stricliU'SS of sabbalharian ministers, in denying peopl 
recreaiiuns on the Sunday, Rut all these plausible insiuualians upeM 
l«d little to a welcome entertain in eut. Nor was thert any oik; rnn 
edict, during all King Charles's nign, menled with equal rpgreU 
fault was least his Majesty's, and not only ill counsel, but ill custnfl 
vas tu Uume. For, too true it is, the divinity of the Lord's day wM ' 

•SichiiSn-mgn.p. n.U i Util. UuUi. IfiM. I f. IM. IC). 


then new ^imity at court, where, the publick assemblies once over, the 
indulgence of secular employment and recreations was thought so little 
disservice to God, as not only civil affairs were usually debated at the 
council table, but also representations of masques were rarely on no 
other than sabbath nights* And all this fomented by both doctrine and 
practice of men very eminent in the church ; which seemed the greater 
prodigy, that men, who so eagerly cried up their own orders, and reve- 
nues, for divine, sliould so much decry the Lord's day for being such, 
when they had no other existence, than in relation to this/ 

* Prophaneness, says * another author, too much abounded every 
where* Luxury in diet, and excess, both in meat and drink, was crept 
into the kingdom in an high degree, not only in the quantity, but in the 
wanton curiosity* And, in the abuse of those good creatures which God 
had bestowed upon this plentiful land, they mixed the vices of 
divers nations, catching at every thing that was new and foreign. As 
mnch pride and excess was in apparel, almost among all degrtes of 
people, in new fangled and various fashioned attire ; they not only imi- 
tated, but excelled, their foreign patterns, and, in fantastical gestures and 
behaviours, the petulances of most nations in Europe. 

* The clergy, sayst the same writer, were wholly taken up in admi- 
ration of the Kings happy government, which they never concealed 
from himself, as the pulpit gave them access to his ear ; and not only 
there, but at all meetings, they discoursed with joy upon that theme ; 
affirming confidently, that no prince in Europe was so great a friend to 
the church as King Charles ; that religion flourished no where but in 
England ; and no reformed church retained the face and dignity of a 
church but that. Many of them used to deliver their opinion, that 
God had therefore severely punbhed the Palatinate, because their sacri- 
lege had been so great in taking away the endowments of bishopricks. 
Queen Elisabeth herself, who had reformed religion, was but coldly 
praised, and all her virtues forgotten, when they remembered how she 
cut short the bishoprick of Ely. Henry the Eighth was much con- 
demned by them, for seizing upon the abbies, and taking so much out 
of the several bishopricks. To maintain therefore that splendor of a 
churdi, which so much pleased them, was become their highest endea- 
vour, especially after they had gotten, in the year l6d3, an archbishop 
after their own heart. Dr. Laud. Not only the pomp of ceremonies was 
daily increased, and innovations of great scandal brought into the 
church ; but, in point of doctrine, many fair approaches were made to- 
wards Rome ; as he, that pleases to search, may find in the books of Bi- 
ihop Laud, Montague, Heylyn, Pocklington, and the rest. And, as their 
fiiend&hip to Rome increased, so did their scorn to the reformed church- 
es beyond the seas; whom, instead of sending that relief and succour to 
them, which God had enabled this rich island to do, they failed in their 
greatest extremities, and, instead of harbours, became rocks to split 
them. Archbishop Laud, who was now grown into great favour with 
the King, made use of it especially to advance the pomp and temporal 
honours of the clergy, procuring the lord treasurer's place for Doctor 

■ May's History of the PtrUamtDt of Eaglud, Book I. p. 19. f Book I. p. 92, i5, 24. 



Juxon, bishop of London ; snd m 
10 fix the greatest tcmpnnil prrfcTi 
mucli Bs ihc people merrily, whc 
other bithups, riJrng lo WetlmJns 
Ductora, and parauns of paHshes 


the general report 
htrsof (hat cual: li 
saw that trcBsun-r, 
lied it the church Iriumpbi 
made PTery where jmiieii 

iih il 

peace, to the great grievance of the country in civil aflair^, and drpi 
ving them of their spirituHl edification. 1 'he archbishop, by the tan 
■ncans which be used to presene his clergy from contempt, expotrtf 
ihem to envy ; and, as the wisest could then prophesy, to a more ihaA 
probability of losing all : As wc read of some men, who, being foi» 
doomed by an oracle to a bad fortunr, have tun into it by the 
■neons ihcy used lo previTl JE. The like unhappy course did the 
•gy then take lo depress punlunism, which was lo set up irreligion itself 
against it, the worst weapon which they could have chos<'n lo beat ^i 
. down ; which appeared especially in point of keeping ihe Lord's Day 
when not only books were written to shake the morulily of it, as that ^a 
■Sunday no Sabbath,' but sports and pastimes of jolliiy and lightnfl 
permitted to the counlty people upon that day, by pnblick aulhori'r^a 
and the warrant commanded lo be read in churches; which, instead tt 
producing the intended effect, may credibly be thought to have b«l 
one motive to a stricter observance of that day; and many mm, wh( 
had before been loose and careless, began, upon ihat occasion. Id ente 
, into a more serious consideration of it, and were ashamed to be invited 
Ity ihe authority of churchmen, lo Ihat which themselves, at the bea( 
, could buihuve pardoned in themselves, as athingof inlirmiiy, Thecs 
I ample of the court, where plays were usually prescnied on Sundays, d~~ 

hot so much draw the country to imitation, as reflect, with disadti 
■ lage. upon the court ilscif; and sowrc those other court pastimrs, m 
* jollities, which would have relished belter without Ihat, in the eyn 
all the people, as things ever allowed to the delights of great prmci 
The countenancing of lixiH-nees and irreligion wan, no doubt, a grt 
, pieparetivc lo the introducingof another religion : And, the power 
'' godlineia being beaten down, popery might more easily by degrees enn 
And iho' it were questionable, whether the bishops and great clergy 
England aimed at popery, it Is loo apparent, such was the design ol R_ 
mish agents ; and the English clergy, if ihey did not their own woti| 
did theirs. A stranger ofihal religion, a Venetian gentleman, outofhil 
own observntioni in F.ngland, will tell you, bow far ihey were going in 
ttiis kind. His words are, " The universities, bishops, and divines of 
England do daily embrace Calholick opinions, iho' they profm it not 
with open mcuih, for fear of the puritans. For example, they hold that 
the church of Rome is a true church ; ibat ihe Pope is superior In all 
bbhopi; thai lo him il appertains to call general council* ; ibat il n 
lawful to pray for souls departed ; that aluirs ou^ht to be erecti-d : In 
fine, they believe all that is taught by the church, but not by the court 
•f Rome." 

' Uy nil these it is very' evident, ihnt the lil>cr(y. snd the delight, 
then taken in plays and opera's, did help sadly to cointpt ihc oiuiilaa>4 

• Br. Kcu*;^ Simsn. y. U. 


Bunnen of our people, and to let in that looseness and irreligion, which 
served to suggest the wickedness and villainieSi soon after acted in the 
civil war. 

Fifthly, and lastly, ' Dr. Kennetjustly* reckons hypocrisy as another 
lamentable cause of King Charleses murder : for, no doubt, many sin- 
cere Christians came in with a good meaning to one side of the unhappy 
quarrd, as well as to the other. But the prime engines, and the 
workers of them, on the prevailing side were most of them men of craft, 
and dreadful dissemblers with God and heaven. What artificial fasts! 

blow given, by an utmost stretch jfn hypocrisy, by one f commander 
putting off I another, more tender and loyal, with a sham pretence of 
seeking God in prayer, while, in the mean time, the royal blood was 
shed, and the other's plea, to spare it, was then to no purpose/ 

All parties allow, that Cromwell was the chief promoter of the King's 
murder; and that hypocrisy was his characteristical quality, is also 
acknowledged by all. ' His whole army, says Sir Philip Warwick, in 
his H memoirs, was of men who had all either naturally the phanatick 
humour, or soon imbibed it. A herd of this sort of men, being by him 
drawn together, he himself, like IViahomet, having transports of fancy, 
and withal a crafty understanding, knowing, that natural principles, 
tho' not morally good, will conduce to the attainment of natural and 
politick ends, made use of the zeal and credulity of these persons, 
teaching them that they engaged for God, when he led them against 
the King. And these men habited more to spiritual pride, than carnal 
riot, or intemperance, so, consequently, having been industrious and 
active in their former professions, where natural courage wanted, zeal 
supplied its place; and, at first, they chose rather to die than fly ; and 
custom removed fear of danger ; and afterwards finding the sweet of 
good pay, and of opulent plunder, and of preferment, the lucrative 
part made gain seem to them a natural member of godliness. 

* The bloody independents, says the same § author, drew the curtain, 
and shewed how tragical their design had been from the beginning. There 
are no words in the army, but that the King had been a man of blood, 
and therefore must be presented to blood. 

* If the puritans, says the** French historian, I quoted before, adren- 
lured on this blow, it was only in expectation of an occasion to atlempt 
a more decisive one, by extinguishing the royal authority, with which 
episcopacy should fall. 1 say the royal authority, not the King's person 
and dignity: for we roust do the puritans the justice to own, that they 
never intended to carry their crime so far; and that they only prepared 
the victim, which a more bloody sect sacrificed. — — It is hard ft to 
determine when this inhuman design was formed by the sect of the inde- 
pendents, for so they were called, because they pretended to carry the 
evangelical liberty further than the puritans. These new sectaries were 
at first no otherwise distingubhed from the presbyterians, than, (as, in 

■ See his Sennon, p. 83. £4, f5. f Cromwell. % Lord Fairfax. I p. t58. \ p. ZOQ, 
• F«Ut«r D'Orleaiu** EevoluUou of Ea|lud, Vol. III. p. 4C. ft p. lis. 113. 

n A VIEW, tct. 

all religious societies, the zealous and fervent are distinguished (torn Ae 
lukewarm, and the strict from the remiss) by a greater averseness ta 
pompous ceremonies and pre-eminences in church and state; by s 
greater zeal to reduce the practice of the gospel to its pristine purity; 
by prayers, conversations, and discourses^ which seemed to be the result 
of enthusiasm and inspiration. Their opinions about independency 
(for they rejected not only bishops, but even synods) procured them a 
peculiar appellation, and rendered them suspected to the presby terians, 
with whom they had some disputes. But, notwithstanding this oppo- 
sition, the independents, adding artifice, flattery, promises, and good 
offices to their affected air of sanctity, made such a progress, that they 
&rmed a numerous sect of those that bad been imposed upon by their 
hypocrisy; and a formidable faction of ambitious and mercenary men, 
whom they gained in all the other sects, by their address and policy* 
It was one among the latter, who afterwards became the chief of the 
whole cabal, and who was so already, without being taken notice of. 
A man bom without any natural propensity to evil, or any inclination 
to virtue; having an equal facility to practise all virtues, and to commit 
all crimes, according as either suited with his designs. By this stroke, 
Oliver Cromwell will easily be known. His excellent talent for war, 
already so fatal to the King's party, having added much lustre to his 
qualification for business, gained him such ascendant over all those of 
his faction, that he was become the very soul of it Modesty and de- 
votion, which, of all the virtues he wanted, were those he could best 
dissemble, had the more solidly established that superiority, as it gave 
the least ofience to the independency professed by that sect, in a man 
who seemed not to affect it, but rather to have nothing in view, besides 
the good of religion and the publick.' 

Thus it appears, from all the irrefragable testimonies already cited. 
That, with plainness of truth, the Reverend Dr. Kennet has enquired 
into, and marked the most visible causes of the civil war, which ended 
in the murder of King Charles. 

Since, by laying before us the true causes of that unnatural civil 
war, which terminated in the destruction of the monarchy, and the 
martyrdom of the monarch, he wisely cautions both those who govern, 
and those who arc governed, carefully to avoid any thing that might 
tend to break, or hurt, our present happy constitution, which God 

< 7S ) 


Of what is most iBorthy to he seen in all Italtf, 


And in sure manner, as that the Traveller may not oversee or neglect 
any thing that is memorable in those Ccuntries, but may compass 
that Journey at an easy and reasonable Charge, and in a short Time, 
signifying how many Miles from one place to another as followeth * 
¥intf what is to be seen principally in Venice, and from thence to 
Rome, Naples, Sicily, and until 3*ou come to Malta, from thence 
back again another Way to Genoa, and Milan. 



THE city of Venice hath sixty-two parbh churches, and forty-ona 
monasteries of firiars and nuns. There are, in Venice, as many 
channels as streets, over which there arc eight-hundred open bridges to 

The city of Venice is, in circuit, eight Italian miles; and, although 
it lies in the sea, yet, nevertheless, it is defended from the raging waves 
thereof, by a natural bank under the water, compassing the city round 
about, like unto a constant wall, which repels the storms of the sea, 
that they cannot assail the city ; there arc about the city twenty-five 
islands inhabited by spiritual persons. 

When you come to Venice, enquire for the White Lion, or Black 
Cattle, or else for the WMctta, wheie (in my time being there) dwelt an 
host, named Signior Bongratz, which is the chicfest of the three : there 
you shall have one appointed to go with you, or else take a gondola, 
and row to the arsenal, or house of artillery. 

The House ofArtiUery. 

Before you go to the arsenal, or house of artillery, you must crave 
licence to see the same, of certain particular gentlemen, deputed to 
have the custody thereof; and, as then, you must leave your weapons 
in the porter's lodge, until you come out again. 

When you are within, there will be one appointed to go about with 
you ; but my council is, that you provide yourself with single money, 



to bestow here and there, according to the custom. First you go ova 
a bridge, through which the ships and gallies do pass, which arc to go ' 
to sea; over against that, there is a house, wherein are two-hundred 
persons daily, who do nothing else but make corslets and harness, that 
arc used in the ships and gallies. 

Another house, hard by that, wherein there are daily working two^ 
hundred persons, making nothing but anchors, and other irons, for the 
gallies and great ships. A little farther, you shall be led into a cellar, 
ivhereinarc sixty great vessels, filled with wine, which they give try the 
workmen, as much as they desire to drink, every day, and you also may 
drink ag much as you please. 

Moreover, there are six extraordinary great galleasses, which have 
been io the battle of Lepanto. 

There are also forty-six galleasses, all ready furnished, save only two, 
laying the ordnance thereupon. Right over-against that, you shall be 
led into a gallery, about five-hundred paces long; therein are made the 
cables and ropes for the ships and gallies; hard by that, is another house, 
ip which »re forty kettles and ovens, to make salt-petre ; bestow there 
to drink. 

Then, a little back again, there is a great house, in which there are 
two rooms ; in the first, is all manner of furniture to arm seventy-four 
thousand men into the field ; here also give to drink. In the other room, 
there are long guns, pikes, and other armour, to furnish into the field 
one-hundred and seventy-four thousand men; give to drink. Coming 
down again, you shall see, in another room, six-hundred pieces of great 
ordnance, lying on wheels; also, hard by, a mortar, that carries a 
bullet of six-hundred pounds weight. 

Hard by that room, there is another, wherein do lie as many bullets 
and ordnance, as will serve for two-hundred gallics, which are all ready 
to be used ; drink-money more; there are bullets and ordnance to fumi^ 
thirty-six galleasses, there pertaining to every g^leass forty-eight pieces 
of ordnance. Drink-money. 

A little further, there is another house, where arc three-hundred pieces 
of ordnance, which were won from the Turks in the Armada, together 
with the colours, and twenty-four bells of the IDW-Countries ; drink* 

The galleasses arc in length thirty-seven paces, and the gallies thirty. 

When you have gone about, and seen the gallies, you shall come to 
the extraordinary brave ship, Eucentauro, which is painted within and 
without, and richly oviTgjlded. Therein are excellent fine benches 
made, on which may easily sit two- hundred persons. In that ship doth 
the Duke of Venice, together with the whole signiora, or council, go, in 
long crimson-velvet gowqs, every year on the Ascension-day, in great 
triumph, and princely state, to the sea, to a port near a strong fort 
called Alio: and there the duke doth wed himself to the sea with a very 
rich and costly ring, for an established dominion.' The ring is given to a 
page of honour, who casteth it into the sea,and,.as then, the duke returns 
honie ^gain, and, from the two strong forts, is rung a main peal of 
ordnance for jo^. When » duke is choseoi no nao maa know to whom 


the election will fall, for it is done by lots, and, therefore, bootless for 
any covetous man to strive for it, by bribing or gilts* 

As you go forwards, you shall sec a great house, under which are 
three rooms ; therein may easily be made ready two-hundred ships and 
gallies with sails. Drink-money. 

Go up the stairs, and you shall come into a room, wherein are two- 
hundred old women, daily mending old sails, and sometimes, when 
need requires, there are seven-hundred daily working. 

Further, there are three rooms, one above another; therein may be 
furnished and armed twenty-thousand men to sea, and there you shall 
tee an admirable numbet of old harness, used in former times. 

Then enquire for the great hall, called Real, in which the lords, in 
times past, did use to sit in council, but now used for stately banquets 
and feasts, when some great potentate or prince comes thither. 

In the said hall, you shall see flitz-bows, corslets, and broad rapiers, 
together with other weapons, sufficient to arm two-hundred thousand 
men; and also, you shall see the colours, which were gotten from the 
common enemies of Christendom, the Turks. 

Not far fnim thence is a house, wherein do lie so many oars, ready 
made, as will serve^fur eighty gallies. 

Further, another house, wherein arc oars, ready made, for above 
onc4iundred galliee, which were used in the armada aforesaid ; on every 
oar must row eight or nine persons. In the same house, the signiqra 
did sit in council, because the duke's palace was set on fire, by lightning, 
or a thunderbolt. 

There are two-hundred good and sound gallics, all ready furnished, 
save only the ordnance to be laid therein, and so put out to sea ; and also 
about two-hundred and fifty, which are daily repaired, and made ready. 

In this house of artillery, are twelve great towers, upon which there 
is kept the watch every night ; and, every hour, there goelh a genllc- 
man (appointed by the lords) the round, with thirty-six sufficient armed 
men, about the house of artillery, to visit the sentinel. The house of 
artillery is compassed round about with walls, and other buildings, like 
unto a strong town. 

In the same, there are four-hundred masters and servants, who con« 
tinually do make great ships, and prepare them to be ready. There arc 
belonging to this house of artillery eight thousand persons, fit for all 
manner of trades. This house of artillery, in my opinion, is as big as 
the city Canterbury. Now it will be time for you to go home to 
your lodgings, friendly taking leave at the gates, and, with thanks, 
bestowing some such reasonable reward, as to the company of gentle- 
men-travellers, who went in with you, may be found fitting. And thus 
iDUch cooceming the incomparable house of artillery in Venice. 

Heret^er foUaw9 what is chtfly to be seen within the City of 


Go forward from the house of artillery to the water, or channdi and 
iheie yoa shall see many brave and great ships of war* 

r 2 


Not far from thence, a great house, built only to make bi^kets for 
the gallics. Therein are fifty ovens, and all Dutch bakery; there 
pertain to these ovens fifty bakers, but, if it be needful to set out gallici 
with bread, then there must be on«-hundred of them. 

Further you will see a new monastery, named Santo Scpulchro, 
which is naturally like to the holy grave in Jerusalem. 

Then you shall come to the Duke's Palace ; there take a gondola, and 
row over to St George's Monastery, which is built so pleasantly, and 
with such various cloisters and gardens (which remain winter and 
summer) as that you have not seen the like; especially the convent- 
ball, wherein the monks do dine and sup. This monastery hath as 
great a circuit about it, as a reasonable town. 

Over-fig^nst that is yellow wax bleached, worthy th« sedng. Drink- 

Then you shall go to the Capuchins Alonastery, which, in times past, 
was built in perpetual memory, at the charge of Prince Nicholo di 
Ponte, ordered on the day of his death ; upon which day, there is yearly 
made a great ship-bridge, that the people may not be troubled to go so 
hi about thither in pilgrimage to offer. 

Then row over the channel to St. Stephen's, where you shall see a 
great spacious place, and there all duels are fought, being a privileged 

Elace, where no Serjeant or officer dare meddle with them ; and also, 
ard by the church, there is a stable, besides which there is not one 
Stable more within the whole city of Venice. 

After which, going homewards, you may ascend up to St. Mark's 
steeple, from whence you may very pleasantly behold the whole city. 
As the King of France came thither out of Poland, he rid up this 
Steele, with his horse, as high as the bells do hang. It was built anno 
1 140, at which time the Paduans and Venetians were at wars. The 
ships may be seen from this steeple thirty miles. After, go into the 
minting-house, which is bard thereby, as also the library, which you 
shall take great delight to see. Coming out thence, you will see two 
great pillars erected, which are cast; between those the malefactors aro 

Also, just thereby is an extraordinary great house, wherein is kept 
in store double-baked bi^ket, ready for any armada which i« to be set 
Out to sea ; and hard by that house is the place, whereout are delivered 
idl their billets, or passes, that intend to travel. 

Then go to the Duke's Palace, and up the stairs you shall see two 
great statues, or pictures of Adam and Eve, of white marble-stones 
and, when you come to the top, there is, on your left hand, a quader- 
piece, over-gilded and fastened into the wall, on which is written or 
engraven the manner, day, and hour of the King of France's coming 
thither out of Poland. Go up higher the stairs, towards the great 
chamber, wherein is* usually hold a general council ; which, being 
co'mpleat, consists of sixtecn-hundrci} lords and counsellors, all from 
the most ancient nobility descended ; where they sit in comely order, 
the duke sitting uppermost, and on each side of him twenty-four 
clarissimi, or lords, all in long red velvet gowns; out of which one is 
elected, when the cltike die*, and they cast lots for the electioQ. 


The upper cielingof this council-chamber is of wood most excellently 
carved, and richly gilded with pure Zcchini gold; the histories and ar- 
ti/icial pictures are wrought upon very costly liunen, with oil colours* 
They do constantly afhrm, tliat this chamber cost above four tons of 
gold, which, in English money, is above one hundred-thousand pounds 
sterling. Hard by the same is another chamber, almost like unto it, 
which sometimes is used for a council-chamber. 

This palace of the Dukes, about thirty-two years past, was set on ^re 
by a fiery squall, and burnt ; it was covered with lead at that time, but 
now with copper; for furnishing of which, there were sent for very arti- 
ficial masters out of Germany. They say, that the covering of this pa* 
lace cost three hundred- thousand crowns. 

When you come out of the palace, you shall see, on St Mark's place, 
two columns or pillars of marblo*stone erected, which Emanuel, empe- 
ror of Greece, sent thither for a present ; for, at such time as the Vene- 
tians made an agreement with the King of Sicilyi the said emperor was 
much displeased therewith, but afterwards, they having pacified his an- 
ger, he presented them with three columns or pillars, two of which stand 
on St. Mark's Place; the third miscarried, and fell into the water^ which 
could never be recovered again. And, as concerning the other two, 
there was at that time no man to be found in all their dominions, that 
could set them up on end ; wherefore they made proclamation, that^ 
whosoever could erect them, he should be well rewarded for his pains. 
Upon which, one came out of Lombardy, who told them, that he would 
venture his head, that he would set them up on end, if they would let 
him have such tilings as were necessary for that purpose; which he had, 
and did effect it accordingly. And, K>r his reward, he did desire, that 
it might be lawful for any man, that would, to play at dice between the 
said pillars, notwithstanding tbt^ dice were false; and also, that the Ve* 
oeiians would give him free dwelling amongst them, with a competent 
living; all which was granted unto him. If it chanceth, that any man 
in their jurisdiction doth raise a mutiny with the Turks, or doth at- 
tempt any treachery against the city, then there is a gilded pole laid 
over-thwart the two pillars, and a gilded halter put upon the offender's 
neck, and he hanged thereupon. 

Here I will relate a strange kind of theft, which was done in former 
times at Venice. 

When Borsius, brother to the Duke of Ferrara, came to Venice, and 
went to see the treasure at St. Mark\ there was a certain Caudiot, nap 
med Sammatius Scarior, who, being appointed to wait on the Duke, went 
in also to sec the treasure ; and, when he saw the riches thereof, ha 
thought with himself by what means he might come secretly unto it, 
and for that purpose suffered himself to be locked in the treasury; and, 
making loose a marble-stone hi the wall, behind the altar of the inno- 
cent children, he carried the dust in his lap, and laid it behind a little 
pair of dark stairs in the church. By day he went always away, and 
came again towards evening, so long, until he made a hole into the trea- 
sure-chamber; and, in the day-time, he fastened the stone so cunning- 
ly into the wall, that no man could mark it. lie canic^d out one rich 
jewel lUW anotbef, six uigbts together, and at las was retail vcd to taka 



away the Duke's hat, esteemed at two millions of zechins; which make, 
in English money, more than seven-hundred thousand pounds. Now 
there was another Candiot, named Zacharias Cerio, to whom Sammatius 
opened his business, and shewed him the treasure, and admonished him 
in any case to keep it close, saying their lives stood upon it. Cerio be- 
ing at the sight thereof sore astonished, Sammatius stabbed him ; but, 
before, he demanded of Cerio, Why he was astonished in such a fearful 
manner ? Cerio answered. That he was not able to speak for joy. Sam* 
matiussaid. Make haste, then, and let us begone; wc have riches suf- 
ficient to serve our turns all the days of our lives. Cerio said, 1 will 
pre»enlly prepare myself, and go to inquire after a ship to be gone* But 
he went and discovered it to the Duke, whereupon Sammatius was ap- 
prehended. The next day, a pair of gallows overgilded were setup, be- 
tween the two pillars, whereon he was hanged, with a gilded rope about 
his neck. 

Ovcr-against the same, at the one corner of the church, is a red por- 
phyry-stone set up, on ^K hich there are cut the pictures of the two &p 
mous pirates which brought the said treasure to Venice. 

Hard by is a round marble-stone they use to lay the heads of proscri- 
bed and banished persons. 

Then go into the excellent temple or church of St. Mark's, which is 
underset very curiously with rich and great pillars of divers sorts 
of colours. The doors and gatc-s of the church are of bell-metal, and 
about the great door do stand four great horses cast of bell-metal, all 
overgilded with pure gold, which were ordered to be placed in memory 
of the Emperor Barbarossa. Whenyou come into the church, on your 
left-hand, you shall see a crucifix upon an altar, at which (as they say) 
on a time a certain gamester did throw a stone, whereupon it fella 
bleeding, and still every year, on that day, it doth bleed. 

Further, upon the ground before the high altar there is a pavement 
ivith four-squared streams, of white marble-stone, like unto a natural wa- 
ter, which was likewise so ordered for the aforesaid emperor's sake, 
which is called a horse-pond. For, as the emperor laid siege to Venice, 
he made a solemn vow, that, when he had got the city, he would make 
out of St. Mark's ehurch a stable, and a horse-pond, and would make 
St. Mark's market-place a ground to sow corn on. In the mean time, 
it chanced, that the emperui's son was taken prisoner in a skirmish, and 
brought into Venice. Then the Venetians sent and gave notice thereof to. 
the emperor, and told him, that, unless he would presently raise his 
siege and be gone, they would shoot his son unto him out of a cannon. 
At which the emperor was sorely grieved, and desired of the Venetians, 
that, for the safeguard of the vow which he had made, they would cause 
St. Mark's place to be plaisteivd like a corn gronnd, and that the four 
horses might be set over the high door, to signify the stable, and ako 
the ground before the high altar to be paved with white marble stone 
streamed, to betoken the horse-pond ; which was all done accordingly, 
as it is to be seen at this day; whereupon the emperor took his sob, rai- 
sed his siege, and departed. 

There arc right before the church standing three very high poles, on 
thti top of which they hang three great standards or colours, upon the- 


lioly and feast days^ signifying their three kingdoms^ viz. Candya^ Cy* 
prus, and Venice. 

If you desire to see the treasure, you must diligently soUicit the 
Duke's chamberlain ; then you shall go into St. Mark's church, through 
fou iron doors. So soon as you are gone through each one of them, 
they shut themselves locked, and you are within ; they will shew you 
two unicorns horns, of which the red is the male, and the yellow the fe» 
male; then a great carbuncle-stone, which glitters like a candle, threa 
crowns of the kingdoms of the Venetians, twelve pcttorali, with oriental 
stones, amongst which is one standing in the midst, that hath a great 
saphire and an emerald ; two vessels of agate, the one of Chalcedoni, 
the other of a Turkish ; a little granate, a great diamond King Henry 
the Third, of France, gave the Duke of Venice ; a great dish of gold, one 
ballasso that weighs seven ounces, certain vessels of agate and emeralds, 
which, in times past, were the Emperor Constantine's, besides many 
other rich jewels and precious stones, almost not possible to be written 
in particular, for it is an inestimable treasure ; there are especially ori* 
ental precious a saphire and an emerald, like unto which there are none 
to be found. 

Further you may desire to see the Duke's private house of artillery, 
where are rich furniture of gold and silver to arm two-hundred men, a 
lanthom all of chrystal, certain apparel come from the New World, and 
brought thither by the Cyprinenscs, and presented to the Duke; then a 
little coffer, in the opening of which, two pieces, that lie therein, do dis- 
charge of themselves, besides divers other curious things. Give some* 
thing to drink. 

The church of St. Mark is held to be more rich and stately, built 
with extraordinary costly pillars of porphyry and marble-stone, thao 
is Santa Sophia at Constantinople, for there are &ve most great excel- 
lent chapels, or round heathenish towers, covered with copper. When 
you go from^t. Mark's under the great dial, you will come into the 
Merceria, a long street, on both sides full of shops, furnished with all 
manner of exceeding rich wares, especially with silks; presently after 
you shall come to the Dutch house, wherein do dwell Dutch merchants, 
who give weekly to the duchy, one-hundred zechins. 

From the Dutch house you will go over the bridge Hialto, whither 
all the merchants do resort mornings and evenings. There is also a little 
church, called Santo Jacobo, which is the ancientest church in Venice, 
and there was the first house built, and the city was named at that time 
Venetequa, in English, * Come hrthcr,' for it was free for every man 
to build there ; and, from that word Venetequa, it is now turned to 

Then go to Santa Maria Formosa, upon which the Dutch nation are 
freely privileged to fight out any duel or quarrel. 

You may go also to Santo Johanne et Paulo, which is a wonderful 
lair church and monastery, adorned with excellent fair epitaphs. When 
you enter in at the door, you shall sec on your left-hand the picture of 
the Virgin Mary, very richly, with ancient histuries, fattened into 
the wall fbur-^uare, and the cover over the same, all costly osei" 



Right without the church doth sit upon a horse cast of beH-metal, all 
over gilded with pure ducat gold, Bartholome Coglion of Bergen, cap- 
taingencral to the Venetians; by whom Padua was taken in for the 
Seigniory of Venice. The said general afterwards, on his death-bed, 
did earnestly intreat the Venetian state, in any wise hereafter^ to disco- 
ver their secrets to none, as they had done to him, saying, that, if he had 
been disposed, he could have overcome them. The seignory, for h» 
true ser>ice, did cause his statue to be erected there on a faone^ «i 

In the famous city of Venice there are eight-thousand gondolas, and, 
amongst eight-hundred bridges, there arc but two uf wood. There arc 
also divers laudable companies, or fellowships, touching which it is 
not here necessary to write in particular. The principal ones are 
those, near a monastery called Alii Servi, and by Al Pontc de More. 

Further, it is but little a way over to MuraiK), where the purest chiys- 
tal glasses are made. So soon as you land on your left-hand, at a comer 
house, you shall see a glass-maker tliat hath a whole castle of chrystal, 
with ordnance on the bulwarks and bastions, as also towers of defence, 
which is to be sold for twelve-hundred crowns. 

In Murano almost all the inhabitants are glass-makers, appertaining 
to the Venetians, who have their trading therewith. You shall also see 
very fair gardens with running water-works, and brave statues, especially 
one above the rest, belonging to a great gentleman named £mo, now 
dead, which is wrought so artificially, as is scarce to be believed, unless 
it be Eecn. 

Then, in rowing home again, you will see a monastery on your left- 
liand, Wonderous fairly built in the water by a Venetian courtesana, 
whom did love a Venetian gentle homo, who lived together like a man 
and wife ; he died before her, and left her all that he had, for which 
•he promised him to build a chapel, in perpetual memory of them both, 
to have their funerals therein; which chapel cost more than sixty-thou- 
sand crowns the building; it is all of white marble-stone, and covered 
with copper. There are adjoining thereunto four towers of bell-metal ; 
within it is costly set forth, with admirable pictures and histories, of 
white alabaster oriental, and without are cut out of white marble-stone 
both their statues or pictures, according to the true proportion of their 
tM>dies, After that, she retired hei^lf to a very strict and penitent kind 
of life, and, before her death, she made her will, having left behind her 
six-hundred crowns, all which she bestowed upon poor people in hospi- 
tals and spiltals, and for maintenance of widows and orphans, and ap* 
painted a yearly revenue, to that monastery adjoining to the chapel, ever 
toendure, to the end there might be solemnised yearly vigils for the sakt 
of both their souk. 

Hereafter foUffws what is to be seen between Venice end jincona, from 
thente to Santa Maria Loretto; and also haw many miies one place is 
from the other ^ 

You may take a gondola, or ship, and go to Chiossa, a very pleasant 
tot^n'of tha Venetians^ it lies also in the sea, built with very ikii^iites* 


From tbenoe to Ornaci, an inn, eight miles ; then to Coro, an inn, 
eighteen miles; there you may have horses to hire from Coro to Voiani, 
an inn, eighteen miles; from thence to Magnanaca, an inn, nine miles; 
that is a very hare and simple lodging ; from thence to Primara, an inn, 
fifteen miles ; from thence to Ravenna, twenty miles. Ravenna is an 
ancient city, which lies on the sea, pertaining to the pope« From thence 
to Al Savio, an inn, ten miles; fit>in thence toCesaimiro, a little town, 
ten miles; to Belaere, an inn, fifteen miles; there you may have horses 
to hire. So to Rimini, a town of the pope's, ten miles; so to Coriano, 
an inn, eight miles; toCattolica, an inn, ten miles ; to Pesaro, a town, 
ten miles, which town belongs to the Duke of Urbino, built with veiy 
fur and large streets, walls, imd bastions, and an exceeding strong castie 
lying on the sea« It is well provided with all manner of victuals, espe- 
cially with good wine ; the duke hath there a very fair palace, and keeps 
his court therein; it is a very pleasant place, wherein every thing is to be 
bad at a reasonable rate. From Pesaro to Fano, a town nine miles, 
belonging to the pope, through which no man roust presume to pass, 
unless he will goon foot; it is a very ancient city. From thence to 
Sinigallia, nine miles; it is also the said duke'is ; a very strong castle on 
the sea border, wherein the duke continually maintains a garrison ; 
from thence to Casa Brusciata, an inn, nine miles; it lies upon the 
stream of the sea; we received there excellent good entertainment. 
From thence to Ancona, seventeen miles. 


When you come to Ancona, which is a famous city, you shall sec a 
Porta Triumphal, which the Emperor Adrian caused to be built, for a 
memorial. This city hath a very fair haven of the sea, like unto which 
there are not any found ; for there arc brought together divers sorts of 
commodities from Sclavonia and the Levant ; there are brought also 
brave Turkish horses, and all manner of wares. There is likewise a 
great traflick, and they do bring many Moors and Schiavons together, 
to be sold ; and, above the rest, there are no want of Jews that travel to 
and fro, and also have their dwellings in that city. 

In the aforesaid city, doth lie the body of Sant Ciriaci Advocati, 
buried in a little church on a high rock, which is commonly called bant 
Ciriaco; and, when the weather is clear, you may discover from thence 
Schiavooia, and the ships upon the seo. 

This city lies but three miles from Monte Alto, where Pope Sixtus 
QuinCtts was bom. 

The famous city Ancona is adorned with excellent fair buildings, and 
falaces, well provided of all manner of necessaries, to be bought at a 
very cheap price, and it is well defended by great walls round about. 
In like manner there is a strong castle hard above the city, made so 
invincible with bastions and with ordnance thereupon planted, as that 
it is, in a manner, impossible to be assaulted or won; and, if in case it 
were^ thutthe city should begotten, yet could it not be kept, for, from 


the eastle, every thing therein would be destroyed. So soon as ont 
pope dies, another is elected; the title of Ancona is written in his stile, 
tor it belongs to the see of Rome. 

Sania Maria Loretl0» 

^Vhcn you go from Ancona towards Santa Maria Loretto, which m 
fifteen railes, you will see an extraordinary pilgrimage and devotion; 
especially, note when you come into a long straight street, which reacheth 
up to the church, you shall see nothing but shops, wherein are made 
only pater-noster beads. When you come into the church, you shall 
see, on both sides, long tables standing, on which there are written 
directions and admonishments, after what part every body may prepare 
himself to the confession, on each table being written four several lan- 
guages, to the end, no man may alledge an excuse, that there is no priest 
to understand his language, for there is ordered to every table a priest 
that speaks the same language. 

When you approach near the choir, or querry, wherein is the chapel of 
our Slewed Virgin, which (as they say) was carried thither by the 
angels from beyond the seas, you shall see a rare building, over or above 
the said chapel, all of alabaster and marble stone, with excellent his* 
tones raised. 

And, when you are come into that chapel, you shall see upon the 
great altar the Blessed Virgin, with the child Jesus in her arms, adorned 
with so many precious jewels, and lamps of gold and silver burning, 
that a man can scarce see either the Blessed Virgin, or the child. 

Then enquire for the Christia, whereon do lie the male robes; there 
you shall see, on your right hand, the picture of the Margrave of Baden; 
and there is written the day on which he came thither, with ^ix persons 
per post, to his devotions, in the year ISSi, because, he, having re- 
ceived a deadly wound by a bullet, in the wars of the Low-Countries, 
did direct his prayers to the Virgin Mary, for her divine help for his 
recovery ; after his prayers ended, he laid him down in bed. In the 
xnorning he felt nothing, but was whole and sound again ; whereupon 
he delayed no time, but posted in all haste to this place, and, for a 
thanksgiving, presented the Blessed Virgin Mary with twelve-thousand 
crowns, which is no fable. 

Loretto is made very strong with many bastions and walls, with great 
ordnance, and store of ammunition, so that it is sure enough for the 
Turks coming thither to carry away their inestimable treasure^ which 
(as they constantly affirm) is valued at above five millions of gold, freely 
given and presented out of mere devotion. 

Now, that which is on the way, between Maria Loretto and Rome, 
is scarce worth the seeing. I will therefore only describe the waysfix>m 
once place to another; and, in my opinion, you were better turn back 
again from Loretto, and take the nearest way to Ferrara, and from 
thence, the open highway to Rome, whereby, both charges and lima 
may be saved. 


The direct xoayfrom Loretto to Rome. 

From Loretto to Recanata three miles, which is a fine pleasant town, 
built longwise, on a hill, with fair houses and stately vineyards, planted 
thereabouts ; you need not go through the town, unless you please, but 
may go hard by the wall. From thence to Macerata, a little pretty town, 
wherein is an university, fourteen miles; then to Tollentino, a little 
town, nine miles; then to Alia Mancia, a little town, seven miles; 
then to Piandignano, an inn, seven miles; thence to Varchiano and 
Samlet, nine miles; thence to Alia Passo de Spoleto, an inn, eight 
miles ; thence to Spoleto, a fine city, lying on a hill, belonging to the 
pope; it hath been, in times past, dangerous to travel thereabouts, but 
now not so, ten miles; from thence to Stretura, an inn, eight miles; 
thence to Temi, a pleasant town, eight miles ; thence to Hami, a strong 
town, it lies high on the one side, and the river Hami runs hard by it, 
seven miles; from thence to Ottricolo, a little town, eight miles ; not 
far from this, you must set over the Tyber, nine miles ; from thence to 
Rignano, a very go«)d lodging; here leave an old town, called Civita 
Castellana, on your left hand, it is thither sixteen miles; from thenco 
to Castal Nuovo, a little town, seven miles; thence to Primo Yorto, 
an inn, seven miles : from thence to the holy city, Rome, seven miles. 
This is the way from Loretto to Rome, if you please to go the same; 
otherwise, you may take it in your return back again from Rome. 

Hereafter foUous the direct vay/rom Ferrara to Malta, and mhat ii to 

be seeti between them. 


When you are come to Ferrara, lodge at the Bell; they will enquire 
of you in the gate, what things you carry about you ; but tell them, 
you are scholari, or students ; and if you have cloke-bags, or mails, ' 
you must bring them into the weigh-house, where they open them. 

If you desire to see the city, you must enquire for the Dutch guard; 
there you shall have one appointed to go about you for a small reward. 

First, you go to the Duke's Palace, or castle, that hath four fair 
towers, upon which do strike two clocks. The palace hath within a 
fine court four-square, which is very stately set out with the descents of 
the most famous emperors, and dukes that have governed there; as also 
it is adorned with excellent fair rooms, and pleasant gardens. 

After, let him shew you the duke's garden of pleasure and art, called 
Bel Vedere, wherein you shall take great delight to see it, insomdch 
as you shall admire thereat, garnished with pleasant springs, that both 
winter and summer remain green ; all manner of birds, wild beasts, and 
an extraordinary house of pleasure. Further the house of artillery, 
adjoining to the duke's palace, wherein are many pieces of ^eat ord« 
naocei worthy to be 9ceD. 


The city is furniihed with an excellent fair markct-placcy where all 
necessaries sufficiently are to be had, espetially all manner of costly 

There are also a great number of Jews, and extraordinary fair broad 
■troets, very stately, set out with fair palaces, and excellent brave 
buildings, and, above all the rest, the city is round about strengthened 
with strong walls and bastions. 

Hereaficr foUowi the xbo^ from Ferrara to Bologna. 

From Ferrara to Poggio, an inn, nine miles; from tbence to Pietro 
in Caaale, six miles; thence to Fundi, a little town, nine miles ; from 
shencelo Bologna, nine miles. 


Bologna is an exceeding £air city. When you come thither, lodge 
at the Golden Angel, where you may horse conveniently to Rome. But 
there will be need of some policy, by reason that many times there are 
hones de ritorao, so that you may nave them for six or eight crowns 
appiece, and also men with you, to bear the charges of the horse and 
yourself, till you come to Rome, without taking care of any thing, but 
only to cat and drink, to sit up and light; and, in case your horse 
tires, they must immediately provide you another. 

This great and famous city is built with very stately palaces and 
houses; it hath wonderful fair streets; when it is rainy weather, you 
may go under the houses, and not be wet at all. 

Go towards the governor's palace, who is commonly a cardinal, 
appointed by the pope to govern; it is an exceeding brave palace, with 
a large circumference. 

The governor keeps continually two-hundred switzers, and a comet 
of spear*horsemen to guard his person; they are duly paid their salarium 
every month. 

Every day, about the time of meals, do come the musicians and 
trumpeters to sound and play, as if he were a temporal prince; they 
stand without the palace in an open gallery, towards the market* 

The trumpeters with a kettle drum were, for a memorial, ordained 
thither by \hc Emperor Charles the Fifth. The sackbuts and comets 
for a memorial, by Pope Gregory the Thirteenth. 

The Swit2ors and horsemen have their dwelling in the governors 
palace, and, when he goes out to take the air, they must all attend him 
as if the pope were there himself. 

Right against the market-place, on the outside of the palace, you 
shall see the statue of the said pope, together with the seat, all of bell- 

By the palace is the house of justice or prison, where is given every 
morning to the ofi^ndera the stroppit de corda, in publick view; aod 


the malefactors are woond up exceeding high, their anns being wrung 
round about, very fearful to behold. 

In this city are great merchandising with silk wares, and silk wornit 
that spin, and they make their principal damask, and, especially, there 
is an active and brave gentty. 

lliere is also a irery pleasant, fair, and great market-place, always 
provided with all manner of necessaries, at reasonable small rates, what* 
soever a man desires. 

You shall also see a number of fair and civH gentlewomen in thif 
city, especially those that are nobly descended, who shew themselves 
very courteous towards strangers. There is continually going up and 
down with chariots aud coaches, day and night. Oo also towards the 
Asses Tower, and you shall sec two towers together, which are not 
above four paces asunder: one of them is four- cornered, raised very 
high, all of brick, which six men may fathom about, but the heighth 
is one-hundred and thirty fathom ; upon the same is continually the 
watch kept day and night ; the other tower is built on purpose, as if it 
were falling down, and therefore they were forced to take a great deal 
of it down, the citizens, that dwelt near thereunto, fearing the fall 
of the same, and to spoil their houses. It is yet forty fathom high. 

This city is called the Mother of Learning, by reason of the famous 
unirersity therein ; but now, for six or eight years, it hath suffered ship- 
wreck, because the governor, which Pope Gregory the Thirteenth set 
to govern there, did cause a Dutch gentleman, of good rank, to be cast 
into prison in the night-time, by reason of certain weapons which were 
found about him, and commanded three stroppa dc corda to be given 
him openly upon the market-place. Wherefore all the Dutch nation 
departed presently from thence ; for which the pope might rather have 
given many thousand crowns, than that it bad been done, about which 
the governor fell into the pope's high displeasure. 

There is not, in all Italy, to be seen such an excellent and fair college 
as b there, with fine pleasant rooms and pillars of marble stone, wherein 
oo prince may think scorn to dwell, although at this time Padua hath 
the name; but I like Bologna much better, for every thing' is to be had 
at a low rate. 

Right over-against the college is the chiefcst church, called St. 
Petronia, which is exceeding fair, but as yet not finished, neither, as is 
thought, will be in haste. 

Further enquire for St. Dominico, a monastery of Dominican monks; 
go into it, and, when you come near the door, you shall see an altar 
wrought with such cunning and art, as that there is not the like to be 
seen in the universal world. Under that altar doth lie buried St« 
Dominick; and certainly the monastery is so extraordinary fair, that 
far and near is not the like. The Dutch nation have their burials 

Further do not neglect to see St. Michael, a stately monastery lying 
on a hill near the city, most worthy to be noted ; and, when it is clear 
weather, a man may see so far as Ferrara. Round about this monastery 
do grow cypress-trees, like unto a little wood, yielding so excellent a 
sweet sn^lly as that a faint heart may be quickened therewith ; and 


there is a continual resort tbither of men and women, as well for plea- 
sure as devotion's sake, for, winter and summer, it remains green ail 

Further desire to see St. Sal va tor, which is a monastery of monks, 
and is the fairest built monastery in all Bologna. 

Further St. Francisco, in which there are monks of the Franciscan 
order, is also well worthy to be seen. And then, if you desire to see 
artificial and curious altars and pictures, you must go into St. Jacob's 
church; it is a monastery of the Augustines order. There is in this 
city to be heard as excellent good musick, as almost in any other place 
in Italy, especially at St. Celestin^s. 

The city is wonderous fair, and there runs a fine river through it, 
called Reno, on which all manner of provision is conveyed into the city. 
The city is also great and spacious, and, nevertheless, all round about 
begirt with a marvellous fair wall. 

It is credibly reported, that the pope hath every year out of this city 
three-hundred thousand crowns income. 

Hereafter foUoms the way from Bologna to Florence. 

From Bologna to Pianora, a hamlet, eight miles; from thence to 
Loiano, a hamlet, eight miles ; thence to Pietra Mala, a little town, 
eight miles ; thence to Rofreddu, a hamlet, seven. 

There the ways do part by a bridge on the left hand, to Pratolino, 
three miles from thence, on the right hand, the direct way to Florence, 
where the great duke hath so pleasant a recreation, as is no where e]s% 
in all Italy to be seen. 


When you come thither, enquire if the great duke be there; then go 
to the gardener or keeper of the palace, and salute courteously, pro- 
mising him something. First he will lead you above into the palace, 
which is built four-square; when you come into a room, you shall go 
right forwards into four rooms which have correspondence into four 
comers, which are six rooms, among which is one wherein the duke 
and his duchess do lie, on two beds, when they are there ; but those 
beds are accounted the simplest amongst all the rest, and very low. 

The other rooms are exceeding fairly furnished, and adorned with 
rich and costly arras, of clean gold and silver, wherewith the chambers 
are hung. 

And, according as the hangings are in every chamber, so are likewise 
the beds hung and trimmed correspondently. 

The chambers decked with extraordinary fair statues, pictures, and 
tables of alabaster, and other rich stones. 

Then go also up the stairs, and you shall come into the like rooms, 
where, in four-squares arc sixteen rooms, where beds do stand ; the 


simplest amongst them did cost furnished ten-thousand crowns. Then 
you may bestow something upon the keeper*s wife, or him that did lead 
you about. 

Further you must go from down a pair of stairs, where you shall tee 
a fair grotto and vaults, richly set with coral, mother of pearl, and 
other rich stones, fastened into the wall so thick, that a man can scarce 
see any part of the wall; therein are also tables of marble-stone and 
alabaster, and also the benches very cunningly wrought, in inlaid 
work. If a man doth sit down at one of the tables, the water doth 
^>out from below and above, and on every side, as if it rained mainly; 
and, when one thinks to rescue himself from the wet, then he comes 
just into the bath, all wringing wet; they spare no man, of what degree 

When you come out again, you shall see the garden right before 
you, like unto a broad street, on both sides, springs of water; the 
garden is made with all manner of young plants, that are green winter 
and summer* There is a great tree whereon the duke uses to dine and 
sup ; from that tree, the duke can see both his palaces in the town ; 
the one wherein he keeps his court, the other is called Pithi. Then 
go right over against the palace, into a garden, and is the duke^s 
chapel, wherein mass is celebrated; it is round like a heathenish 
temple wainscotted within and without, with cypress wood, and round 
about there grow cypress trees. 

Further you shall see the statue of a water-god of white marble-stone, 
that hath, in length, four fathom ; from him doth fall all the water, 
that comes into the artificial water-works: 

About five miles from Pratolino, there hath been a very fair ground, 
all green meadows, but on each side, high hills, where the waters do 
come together; those grounds hath Duke Cosmus the Second caused 
to be trenched about four miles in circuit, so that it is now like unto 
a sea, from whence all the waters at PratoliiH> do spring; from Pratolino, 
are ^yc miles to Florence, 


When you come within half a mile of Florence, and are many of you 
in a company (for it is never otherwise) send one before that is a prac* 
ticus, to stay for you under the gate of the city, by the customers; then 
they will enquire of him the cause of his staying there ; he may answer, 
that he stays there for certain students that are coming after on horse- 
back, all wearied, not being used much to riding (for they do look very 
narrowly, what things passengers do carry abeut them, whereby much 
time is lost) but, because they may not be long in searching, put pre- 
sently a piece of money, into one of their hands, without many words, 
speaking somewhat boldly to them, and, as then, they will let you pass; 
there are always many people looking very diligently to the business, 
and to espy if any thing be found amiss, whereby a man may judge, that 
ipiuch decei^ul practice is there used* 


When you come into the famous city of Florence, lodge at the Crown; 
there is also besides a Dutch bostery, called the Fusti, but there is con* 
tinually used much excess in drinking. 

Florence is a most excellent brave city ; comparable to the same 
there is none, neither in Italy, nor elsewhere. 

If there be none amongst yourselves that is acquainted with the 
custom of the city, then desire your host to help you to one, or yoa 
Bwy have one of the Dutch guard to go with you. 

Then go to the great duke*s palace; hard thereby is the Dutch guard. 
The duke maintains continually one-hundred of them to wait on hia 
person ; they dwell all together, and are drawn up to the watch every 
evening very bravely. 

The palace is a famous building, where is a steeple so high, that one 
would say it is built in the air without foundation. Go into the palace 
up the stairs on your left hand, and you shall see an extraordinary great 
hall, wherein the duke doth dine and sup openly; go after that out 
again, and on your right band, you shall see also a very great hall i 
there are every year presents given to the duke on St John ^Baptist's day 
(who is patron to the Florentines) : After which is a fine act solemnised, 
where the duke sits in publick state, and under a tabernacle do sit the 
states and country townsmen in their order, and colours, the standard* 
bowing themselves before him with such ceremonies as if they were to 
do homage. Then the duke goes to his palace to dinner, and afterwards 
the duke sets up a certain prize, about which the common people do 
fiance, at which sport the duke beholds them. 

You shall see in this hall very brave statues, and as you come out 
there is, on your right hand, the duke's natural picture; right before 
the palace, as you go to the Dutch guard, you will see very fair sta« 
fues, as artificially made as if they were living. There is also a very 
hit water-chest or fountain, with stately pictures of bell*metal, as 
also of marble-stone, continually spirting water, standing exceeding 
pleasantly upon the fair and great market-place. Then go up over 
where the statues do stand, where the duke hath a very pleasant garden, 
and hath caused a water-work to be raised up on high, that it is a 
wonder, how it was possible for the water to be brought thither. When 
the duke is disposed to be merry, then he keeps his table there, by 
reason of the excellent cool air ; from thence he hath but a little gallery 
to go into his palace. From thence go right forward, and you will 
come into a very long gallery, called Belvedere, which is adorned with 
most principal statues. On the side of the Belvedere, hath the Duke 
Cosmus caused a chapel to be built (to which he can go secretly, and 
Aot seen, from and to his palace) which is set out with wonderous brave 
alabaster pictures, with a costly altar, and the said chapel round about 
ceiled with mother of pearl ; under this gallery you shall see, in a pro« 
spective glass, an excellent fair room, underset with brave strong pillars, 
in which is the chancery or council kept; there is in all Italy not the 
like to be seen. Go also towards the old bridge, called Pontc Vecchio; 
on the same are built haberdashers shops all over, and there runs a rich 
navigable river underneath, called the Amo. When you come over that 
bridge, enquire for the palace, called Pithi, which is an exceeding fait 


building, M of s()iiare stone, very high and great, built four-cornered, 
wiib a court paved all over with square free-stone. There are in the 
tame kingly rooms, and chambers, continually furnished wonderful 
ficbly. Thereupon is also a great and brave garden, and therein a 
little wood, all of cypress trees, where do also grow all manner of meats, 
for the most cosily birds and fowls. The duke hath oftentimes pleasant 
sport ID the same ; there grow also all manner of the delicatest fruits, 
which s ma& may iroaginei and most part of the garden is continuallj 

Tbete are also stately fountains therein, with brave and costly statues, 
md the duke can go over a gallery from thence to his other palace, 
where he keeps his court, that no man can see him coming; then go 
hack again to a bridge^ called Ponte Novo, which is built all of white 
marble-stoAe^ square pieces. 

When you come over that, you shall see, on your left hand, a very 
great stone pillar, on which sits an angel, with a pair of scales and a 
sword in his hands, which the great Duke Cosmus erected after he had 
got the victory of Siena from the Lord Strozzi. 

Then, when you go a little more forward, you shall come into the 
said Peter Strozzi*s palace, whereby you will conceive the greatness of 
that roan, and his power, in not fearing to set himself against the duke, 
intending to have made himself duke. He hath had also more like 
palaces in the city. 

Further go to the palace, called Cassina, where the duke doth main- 
tain all manner of artists of all nations; for the duke taketh great plea- 
sure therein, he himself having learned two or three of those artificial 
Mnences, and doth oftentimes use to Work amongst them. 

Not far from thence you shall come to a house, wherein are kept 
certain tame leopards, lions, bears, and other beasts, all which you 
Biay see for a small matter bestowed. 

CaUedj our Holy Mother. 

There yon shall see a great devotion for pilgrimage, in which plaoe 
Aere arc so many miracles done and seen, as that it is impossible for 
me to write of them all ; only 3rou shall see the true signs and tokens, 
as they say, of the popes. Emperors, Kings, and princes, and other 
great persons, who (through their strange faiths, and devout prayers) 
have been helped and cured. This Nunciata hath also an excellent 
hospital, into which there arc seldom taken any, but only such as have 
relation to the duke's court; which hospital is a most pleasant place, 
wher^ the sick are attended with great diligence, and provided with very 
tfweet and cleanly bedding. 

Then go out from thence through the straight street, and you shall 
see the cathedral church, which is a rare building, all of red and white 
marble-stones, on which is a round steeple, built so straight that no 


man would believe it to be so exceeding high ; and on the top is tf 
golden globe, or ball, wherein myself, with eighteen persons more, 
have stood, and, if they would fit themselves hands'>mely, there may well 
stand twenty-four. Hard by the said church is another great tower, 
wherein is a clock; the same steeple or tower is built from the bottom 
to the top, with marble-stone, and gilt with divers colours; it doth not 
touch the church, but is built so, that one may go round about it« 
Right against the church is a round temple, called St. John, the Flo- 
rentine patron, which temple hath three doors, or gates of bell-metal| 
with exceeding fair raised figures, and histories, and especially there is 
cast upon the same the whole Old Testament; they do confidently affirm 
that the same does come from Jerusalem. 

Then, going towards your lodging, the Crown, there is not far off 
the church of St. Laureiitio, wherein is buried Queen Johanna of 
Austria, the Emperor Maximilian's daughter, wife to the great Duke 
Cosmus, together with her children, where you shall see a wonderful 
fair epitaph. By reason of the death of this great princess, the poor 
people in the city were driven to an extreme lamentation, and sorrowful 
bewailing, for they lost a mother of her y she, having presented unto 
her, from the prince her husband yearly, twelve-thousand crowns for 
a new year*s gift, did not make use thereof, for any lust or pleasure, 
but did distribute the same altogether, for God's sake, to the said poor. 
In this church are to be seen the epitaphs of the Dukes of Florence and 
their predecessors, as also a.n excelleivt Bibliotheca of four-thousand 
eiglit-hundred written books in parchment, very fairly bound. 
• This city is built with stately palaces and very fair houses; the streets 
are wonderous fair, and paved all with four-square stones that no filthr 
or uncleanness may abide thereon, and, though it rains much, within 
one quarter of an hour ii is dry again. The city is also furnished with 
all manner of trades and merchandises, and especially with silks*, and 
costly rich cloth of gold and tissue, which are made theiv, comparable 
to which there are none in all Italy. There do also frequent a valiant 
sort of knights and gentry, which are employed in service against the 
common enemies the Turks. You shall also see there two very strange 
castles or forts ; the one lies on a plain ground near the city wall ; the 
other on a high hill upon the city; wherein are in garison all Spaniards, 
it being so ordered by Charles the First, Emperor, that the Duke Cosmus 
should maintain only Spaniards; which is observed to this day, and no 
t(hcr nation may be entertained therein. 

Hcrefolhweth the way to High Sicna^ 

, From Florence to Casciano, a little town, eight miles; from tbcnce 
to Barbatino, four miles; from thence to Tavernellc, a little town,, 
fi>ur miles; from thence to Poggioponzo, a little town, that lies undes 
a fort named Poggis imperial'e, four miles; from thence to Staggia, a 
littU town, four miles; from thence to High Siena city, six miles^ 



An exceeding fair city lying on a high ground, fastened in round 
about with strong walls. When you come into the city, lodge at the 
Golden Angel, where you will find good and stately entertainment; and, 
if you desire horses to Rome, you may have them at return for a small 
matter, and those that will bear your charges, till you come to Rome. 
Go to the market-place, which is wide and fair, and a water-chest, at 
the upper end ; take a diligent view of that water-chest ; as you go along 
cot of the market-place, you shall perceive it like unto a Jacob's mus- 
cle, by rettion of th^ red bricks wherewith the place is paved, and pieces 
of white marble stone mingled amongst them, that it doth naturally 
n-scmble a muscle. Then go to the head and principal church called 
Domo or Cathedral, which is so richly built, that, in all Italy, is scarce 
the like, all of white and black marble-stone within and without, and a 
steeple like unto it, so that a man may say, the whole building is like 
a costly jewel, by reason of the pleasant and rich materials thereof. 
And therein you shall see all the popes lively pictured, and the church 
adorned with very fine altars ; and against the church is an especial fine 
hospital, where the poor pilgrims and other strangers are harboured and 
entertained with good and wholsome meat and drink, sweet bedding, 
and other necessaries, three days and three nights freely* There goes 
a great charge and expence thereupon, and, in case the yearly income 
will not serve, then the city must give supply. The city is plentifully 
served with all manner of good victuals ; partridges, pheasants, hares, 
and all sorts of fowl, are to be had for a small matter ; especially, the 
students, where they board, are very excellently well served with all 
courteous and afl^blc behaviour. There is also exceeding good wine, 
and fine bread ; the wine, in summer time, being so cool, that a man 
can scarce drink it, when they first bring it out of the cellar, but it must 
stand a while. 

There is not, in all Italy, spoke the langua^ more pure than in this 
city and thereabouts; the plain country swain delivers it as elegantly, 
as the chiefestin the city. And, above other things, I may not forget to 
praise the exceeding beauty and well favouredness of the women kind in 
this place, being wonderous well fitted for kind and lovely conversation, 
graced with comely apparel, and, especially, they are in general skilful 
in riding, and do sit well on horseback. You shall also see a brave uni* 
vcrsity, frequented by all nations, many noble persons living there, for 
their learning's sake, and more of the Dutch nation, than any other. 
There is also just on the city a marvellous strong castle, or fort, which 
the great Duke Cosmus caused to be built, as he had brought this city 
under his power, and overthrown Lord Peter Strozzi ; which castle is 
sufficiently furnished with great ordnance and all manner of ammuni- 
tion, against which the citizens cannot lightly rebel ; the garison is all 
ofltalian soldiers. And, let it raio never so fast or long, it is dry againy 
throughout the whole city, within thespaceof half an houn 



Hereafter follows the way from High Siena to Rome. 

From Siena to Liicignano, a little town, six miles; tUence to Buon 
ConvcBty aiittle lowo, &ve miks; tfaience to Vornieri, a little town, 
seven milca; from thence you may see the exceeding strong fort, called 
Monte Alctnoo, three miles; on the side, whe» you come to Tornieti, 
do not lodge at the sign of the Stars, but go a little furthfiv down to the 
HaL^Moon, vrhicb is a better lodiging. From tkence to St. QtuncOr 
ei^t miles; thence to Alia Paglia, an inn, fiour miks; thence to Pont* 
Cintino, a market-town, eight miiei.; when yoa ride from AUa Paglia» 
enquire if it hath not hitely rained, before you pass over the water, fbf 
therein do lie hid great stones, the water oftentimes coming on a siiddnt 
with such, force, that it carries both horse and man. From Ponta 
Cintino to Aquapendente, four miles; before you come thither, you 
must pass over a bridgie of stone, which, the pope Gregory the Thirteenth, 
caused to be built. In tiiis town, you shall find most delicate, fresh, 
and cool drink-water, and excellent good wine and lodging. It is also 
the key of the pope's country. From Aquapendente to St. Laurence, 
five miles. It b a fine little tawn, where do.grow maniellous pleasant 
wines, especially the red wine. From thence to Bolsina, a little town, 
fdur miles, where doth grow also exceeding good wine, and it lies on the 
sea border. In this soa do lie two islands ; on either is built a churclv 
the one is called Santa Martana, the other, Versontina, wherein is in- 
terred the body of St. Christnuu In this sea are taken very good fishes^ 
pike, carpi ami eels. From thence to Montefiasconi fivcmiles. 


This town lies upon a hill, formed like a flaggon, from whence the 
town is so called. There doth grow the best muscadine in all Italy; 
in which wine, a certain prelate drank himself to <lcath, and lies there 
burjcd, on whose gravo-stone are cut these words following: 

Dominus mens mortuus est. 

Which epitaph his servant made : He was sent always by his master 
before, when he travelled, for this end, to taste the wine in divers places, 
and, where he found this good muscadine, he, on the door wrote, 
EST, which was the token for his master tolcjiow that there was flood 
wine; and so, Est, as he espied the same written on the doors, there 
he always lighted and renewed his drinking, whereby he lost his life^ 
From Montcfiascon to Viterbo, a city, eight miles. 


This is an ancient city, pertaining to the Cardinal Famesio. It b 
adorned with very fair and artificial water-works, worthy the seeing. 


And» wben yoa have taken sight of this place, my advice is, to take 
you out 85 you cam^ in, and then ride, on your right hand hard by the 
town wall, to the Cardinal Gambam. Thither yon have three miles, 
where you shall, by the said cardinal, be courteously entertained; for 
ihyselr, with sixteen other gentlemen, certain years past, went that 
way, and the cardinal, having notice thereof, caused our horses to be 
taken and set iti his stables, atid gate orders tb shew us into princely 
chambers^ to be lodged that tiight; and, at supper time, we were all 
invited to A very rich feast, the banquet being served all in rich plate. 
On the mofrow, the cardinal's cousin led us into the palace and gardt*n^ 
to see the same, which is adorned with wonderful rare wateNWbrk^j 
statues, and growing things, that are green winter and summer. Arirf^ 
as we were minded to take horse and depart, we were then again earn- 
estly intreated, and invited to a very costly dinner, the said cardinal 
himself using us very graciously, and merrily desiring of us, That, at 
such time as we should drrlv^ home again into our own countries, we 
wpuld not o^iit to desire (in his behalf) any of our friends, that should 
have occasion to come that way, that they would not pass by his faotisc 
without calling in, and then to accept of his poor entm&inment. 

Now, as we were ready to depart, we agreed to bestow twenty crownir 
on hb servants, of which the cardinal got notice, and gave e?(press 
charge, that, upon pain of corporal punishment, they should not 
receive anv thing of us. From thence to Caprarola, which is a very 
excellent fair palace, pertaining to Cardinal Famesio, being/ from Car- 
dinal Gambara's palace, seven miles. 


Is a wonderous stately palace, thirty miles from Rome, And noC 
abovo two miles out of the way; very fairly btrilt, four square ; wherein 
are excellent brave statues, an^ plc^asant gardens, with curious and 
artificial water-works. When you go up, you shall tee prineely lodg» 
ingf, with all manner of rich hangings, and with beds and tables of 
precious stone. And, when a man goes into one chamber (the sam^ 
being left open) he shall look into ^^c others, and see in foUr comeitf 
twenty rooms, stately femished, especially the perrtraiture and signi^ 
^cator of the four winds, as artificial, as is possible to be made. Give 
there somewhat to drink. From thence to Monte Rosa, A market- 
town, three miles ; and, before you come to Monte Rosa, you may got 
through the cardinal's park, wherein are many deer, and other strange 
beasts. From thence to Baccano, ah inn, six miles. Tliere bath been, 
in times past, dangerous travelling that way, when it was a wood, tho 
banditti harbouring themselves therein ; it pertains to the Lord Paulo 
Jordan of Bracciano ; which Wood he caused to be (^ut down, that so now 
there is safe travelling the place, being at this time a pretty market-town, 
and lies on a little sea, wherein are excellent fish. From thence to 
Alia StoTta, a market-town, eight miles : from thent^ to Rome are 
iBven nulct. 



[ Which is cdUd the Head City of the whole World. 

When you come to Rome, enquire for the Black Bear, or Sword, 
both which are lodgings for strangers, where yoa shall have good enter- 
tainmentf and be well used; but most commonly the chiefest persons 
lodge at the Sword on Monte Giardano, in Italian, Alia Spacta. The 
host will order one or other to gQ with you to see the city ; and my 
•dvice is, if you desire to see things worthy your notice, that you go 
first of all to the castle in a boat, or on foot; for a coach, you shall 
gjive not above a crown and an half for the whole day« 


And first you crave license of the colonel, who will appoint one to 
bead about; you may bestow something on him, and he is commonly 
one of the soldiers in garison. Then, leaving your weapons in the 
porter's lodge, he will bring you up to the first rampart, where are 
two houses of artillery, full of excellent armour, to arm about six- 
hundred horsemen with cuirasses, and one-thousand soldiers on foot. 
Then go through the three watch-towers upwards, where are very stately 
chambers and rooms, in which doth dwell the colonel; hard by are 
two other rooms, with ammunition to arm twelve-hundred musquetrers. 
There desire to see the rope-ladder, with which the great Roman gen* 
tleman, L. Caesare Gaetano, did let down himself from the castle, and 
almost had clear escaped out of prison; the same ladder lies in a chest, 
standing in a certain room, where is a fall-trap; and when they intend 
to dispatch an offender (some great person) secretly they bring him into 
the said room, where, stepping unawares aside, he doth suddenly fall 
down, most fearfully, upon sharp iron pricks and saws, that cut him 
all in pieces; you will wonder to see it. The foresaid L. Gaetano bad 
almost released himself out of that prison, if the governor's boy (who 
helped him) had not sorely fallen, which made him cry aloud; which 
the sentinel no sooner heard, but presently raised the watch, who got 
him, and brought him in again, and gave notice thereof to the pope ; 
whereupon, the pope gave order to cut off the nobleman's head at mid- 
Bight following, and the boy was hung out over the city walls. Let him 
ahoshew you the prison for groat and noble persons, wherein is a plea- 
sant bath ; hard by which, is a secret trap, to let one fall upon sharp 
irons. Over against that is a fair chapel, wherein mass is celebrated. 
Farther, go upwards, where you shiill sec an angel, made of white 
marble-stone, presenting this signification. As, on a time. Pope Gre« 
jN>ry the First went in procession, having the picture of Sancta Maria 
Ara Celi ^^ l^is hands, and coming to this Angel Castle, he looked 
upwards, ^"^ '^^ ^^^ angel standing there, where this angel of marble- 
stone now s^i^<lctb, with a naked sword in the one hand, and, in the 
other the s^<^^b» ^^^ when the angel put the sword into the sheath, 
the plague ^^ presently cease^ which had reigned a long time before 


in the city. Hard by ihis angel of marble-^tono, doth stand a won- 
d(*n>us great and high ship mast, on which is hung a great flag of 
triumph, on a principal feast*day, when, also, is rung a thundering 
peal of great ordnance. Hard by, do lie two pieces, that csirry seven 
Italian miles. Then you go back again, through a narrow gallery, 
where, on your right hand, is a door, that Icadeth to the pope's house 
of victuals; and, a little beneath, another door of iron, that goes in 
wherelhe pope^s treasure is, and the whole city's of Rome. TJien give 
the soldier, that went about with you, something to drink, that his 
other fdlows may not sec it, else he must part it with them. Then you 
come again to the watch-gate, where the weapons are given you ; con* 
tribute some^^hat amongst you to bestow upon them to drink, and then 
the drummer strikes up lustily. And« when you come to the outmost 
watch-gate, where are the ancient, lieutenant, and other o65cers, bestow 
something on them, and so take your leave. This castle is, by nature, 
so strong, that, as yet, it was never gotten by any enemy. It was first 
built for a mausoleum to the Ejmperor Adrian, a place of funeral ; after- 
wards it was made a strong for^. 1 here are, at this time, raised about it 
6rf: great and main bastionf, or ramparts. The city of Rome hath been 
seven times overcome, but the castle never. By the castle, is a church, 
called Sant Tj^nspontina, wherein are two pillars, on which, as they 
say, St. Peter and Paul were scourged^ Go a lit-tle further to St. Peters 
Place, near whereunto lies the Emperor's ambassador, in a church 
called St. John; where is a table of white marble-stone, on which our 
Saviour Christ was circumcised, which was brought from Jerusalem to 
Rome. This stone should have been carried further, to another place 
(four horses drawing thereat) but, as it came to the place where it is 
now, the horses would draw no more, notwithstanding they were 
beaten so long, till they fell down and died; and, therefore, this church 
was built there, in perpetual honour and memory, and it was lifKni up, 
and laid on an altar. Every year, on Good-Friday, are celebrated 
their Sf>Iemii Vigil, and there is mndc a fair sepulchre. Within th^ 
Angel Castl&arc exceeding fair palaces, wherein the cardinals do keep 
thrir courts. Then go to St Peter's Palace, where you will sec a mar- 
vellous great and high pyramid, erected upon the market-place, which 
Pope Sixtus V. caused to be transported thither, at the charge of six- 
thousand crowns; and, besides, did give three thousand crowns to the 
master that brought it thither, and erected it, and dubbed him a knight 
of the Golden Fleece, from which honour he receives a yearly stipend* 
The said pyramids, in times past, did stand for Julius Caesar Augus- 
tus Circo. And, in former times, when an Emperor, or other great 
potentate, died, ihey used to burn their corpse to ashes, and put them 
in a great golden globe, and set that on the top of the same, or such 
like pyramid; but the foresaid pope did take down the globe that stood 
'thereon, and, instead thereof, caused his own arms to be set upon the 
same, for an everlasting remembrance. Then go forward to the guard 
of Use Switzcrs, where the pope maintains two-hundred for his guard, 
which arc paid monthly ; and, if any of them gets a son, and the child is 
hut eight days old, tbcu he hath his duty-pay like bis father. 


The Pope's Palace, and Church. 

Hard by the Switsers guard, is the pope's palace. Enquire iint for 
the Bibliotheca, and, just as you come in, on your right hand, dweirfstb 
the gentleman that oversees the same. Salute him, and he will appoint 
you one to go about, and open the rooms, which are seventy-one ; then 
you shall see the most excellent books, the world not yielding* the like, 
and arc all written. In the first room, you shall see three books, which 
Virgil did write, and are six teen-hundred years old; you shall also see, 
in certain chests, wonderful excellent books, especially one, written 
with clear Arabian gold; insomuch that, in those days, there would 
be scarce means found to write the like, in regard it is written, as if it 
were raised or cast upon the book. 

There are worthy to be seen, also, the rolls, or the tables of Moeet, 
on which are written the ten commandments, giten from God. More- 
over, you shall sec certain Indian books, written with barks of trees, 
but not with letters, only figures. You shall see likewise, lying in chests 
and settles, many books covered all with red velvet, and with gold and 
silver clasps; other books, that have been former popes prayer-books. 
In another room, you shall see an infinite number of printed books. 
Then, friendly taking leave, bestow something to drink. Then go up 
into the palace, and you shall see, in three most fair galleries, whole 
Europe stately portrayed. And, in the uppermost <;allen', is excellently 
represented the manner of Pope Gregory the First's procession ; in 
which the arch-angel, St. Michael, shewed himself to the pope, stand- 
ing above in the castle St. A ngelo. When you come down again, ask 
for the Belvedere, a marvellous fair gallery, five-hundred paces long ; 
lit the upper end of which, is an exceeding litir statue of Cleopatra, well 
fitted for an artificial springing water-work. Go a little further, and 
there are certain cht^ts locked, wherein do lie such excellent and prin- 
cipal artificial statues, as the like cannot be seen in all Rome, Above 
the same, arc other rooms, wherein did dwell the prince of Gelder^s 
son, and also died there; but after what ^rt, or what death, I could 
never learn. 

Then enquire for the pope's gardener, who will shew you wonderAil 
stately things, and will direct you how to cumc to the pope's exceeding 
Air gallery: Give him something to drink. Then go back again 
through the Belvedere, and, when you arc out of that, enquire where 
the pope keeps his consibtorium or jcouncil, which is commonly every 
Monday and Friday, in the mornings; and courteously saluting the 
|;uard, of S withers, who are appointed there to attend, they will let you 
in, where you may see the pope, with all his cardinals, and how they 
kiss his feet. When you come out from thence, you shall see a wunder- 
ousfair chapel, into which the pope himself doth oftentimes resort ; and, 
before the same, is a stately hall, in which you shall see, most curiously 
portrayed, the last day of judgment, wrought by that excellent artificiid 
painter, called Michael Angelo Buonaretto, a Florentine, whose like 
was not to be found. Then you shall go out of the chapel, into the 
peat hall, named La Sala 9^1e, wherein the pope gives audience to 


■mbanadore or oiatoiB, which U always done publickly, that erery 
nan may bear, and is therefore called ConsUtorium publicum. Then 
you shall go from the hall, down a very stately pair of stairs; on the 
right handy there is a door, throup;h which they go into the sacristy* 
fi prelate having the custody thereof, he is called saci:istano; you must 
ask leave of him to see the same. In this sacristy are kept the pope's 
lobesy which he useth to say mass, and are forty several pieces, each 
one worth thirty-thousand crowns, and, in particular, that which was 
presented by the King of Portugal, to Pope Gregory the Thirteenth, 
which u v«ilued at eighty-thousand crowns. Then go into the n^xt 
room, on the right hand, whe^ is a wooden chest, in which is a golden 
cup, wherewith the pope celebrates mass, and many others, which I 
omit to write of; only that cup which the great Puke Cosmus gave to 
Pope Gregory the Thirteenth, the weight of which is twelve ounces of 
g(Hd, the cover set all over thick with diamonds and rubies; on the 
same is the name Jesus, set with diamonds, the length of a finger. That 
cup is of great value ; and in the same is a golden spout, through which 
the pope communicates, when he celebrates mass. Further you shall 
see certain chests full of silver candlesticks pertaining to the altars, 
twelve apostles in the height of a map, and perfuming vessels, and other 
rich plate : bestow somewhat to drink. You may try to see the pope's 
chamber of treasure, but it is a very difficult thing to get leave; where 
are certain chests, in every of which, is kept the treasure that each pofie 
did leave, shortly before their deaths ; it is not possible to be described. 
I had the fortune to get in with a princess great with child, whereby I 
had a sight thereof. You may courteously intreat the L. Guarda ilabba 
to help you in, which he may do if he pleases. After which you shall 
see the pope's wonderous fair gallery, which Pope Gregory caused to 
be made, being adorned with incomparable stately works of painting of 
figures, pictuH's, and histories, all over gilded. This gallery is three- 
hundred paces long, and more, where the pope does often recreate hiok* 
self, walking up and down. 

When you are out of this gallery, yqu shall come into the pope's first 
chamber, where there is an excellent, great, and fair looking-^lass. 
Afaroflf, a man shall see a stately palace or castle, and, as yoii draw 
nearer unto it, you shall see therein the pope as naturally as if he were 
present ; after which, go under the glass, and you shall see yourself, 
the pope vajiishing away. Go further, into ihc pope's chambers, 
wherein he lies, all which are hung with red velvet, richly embroidered, 
golden ridges and tenten-hooks, and the ground covered all with red 
velvet. There is hard by a little chapel, in which the mass is read 
when the pope is sickly. Then taking leave, for honour's sake, ofl^r 
some reward, but nothing will be received ; then go down again to the 
great hall, and, if you will, go presently into St. Peter's church, turn 
on the left hand, and then you shall see th/s place where St. Peter lay 
in prison. 

The church of St. Peter, hard by the pope's palace, is one of the 
seven head churches. 

When you come into the church, there is^ on your right hand, a 
white wftUcd g^tc, caU«d La Porta Sancta, which every twenty-Eve 


years k beaten down by the pope with a golden hammer, and opened. 
Then all the cardinals do take that hammer, and strike thereupon ; at 
which time, many thousand people, that came thither from far, do 
approach the said porta or door, to get a piece thereof, which they 
carry home, and reserve the same most warily, esteeming the same for 
a sacred thing. Go forwards, and you shall sec two gates of brass, 
vrhich, as they say, were brought from Jerusalem. More inwards, 
there is, on your left hand, an altar, on which is laid before the people, 
to behold, the head of 8t. Andrew the Apostle. Over against that, on 
your right hand, is laid upon an altar the spear wherewith the side of 
oor Blessed Saviour was pierced, and also the spunge wherewith they 
gave him to drink, and also the holy sweating-cloth of St. Veronica, 
all which are shewed the people on high feast-days. Further, in the 
midst of the church, on your left hand, is an altar named Sanctum 
Sanctorum, at which (when they carry the pope down from his palace, 
into the chapel called Capella Paulina, where do lie buried half the 
bodies of both the apostles, Peter and Paul) the pope is set down, and 
doth his devotion, which continues half an hour. 

Then go out into the building, where, on your right hand, is a mar^ 
vellous fair chapel, called Gregoriana, which Pope Gr^ory the Thir- 
teenth caused to be built, shortly before his death, which cost fiye" 
hundred-thousand crowns and more, as they af!irm ; and therein Vivs 
buried the body of St. Gregory the First, whom Pope Gregory the Thir- 
teenth caused to be transported thither out of another church. And, 
afterwards, Gregory the Thirteenth was buried by him. 

Right before this chapel stands a pillar, about which is made an iron 
grate, where are done many miracles; for ihey do say, for a certain 
truth, that our Saviour Christ did use to lean on that pillar at Jeru- 
salem, when he preached in the temple. Against the same, you shall 
bee an exceeding rich tomb, in which Pope Farnesius the Third is buried, 
all of bell-metal naturally. Right before the old church, named Capella 
Paulina, are certain marble-stone pillars, which wore brought from 
Jerusalem. At the altar in that chapel, doth the pope himself celebrate 
mass on high feast-days, if he be not indisposed ; and, under the same 
pillar, lies the other half part of the apostles Peter and Paul. More- 
over, in the new building, are four chapels, one of which Pope Gn-gory 
caused to be finished before his death ; the other three should have bei»n 
finished by the Emperor, the King of Spain, and the King of France; 
but, hitherto, there is not one of them finished. This pope is resolved, 
as they say, to accomplish the same, together with the new building 
of St. Peter's, which is so incomparable a building, that in the universal 
world cannot be found the like. Before you depart from St. Peter's 
church, desire to see the pope's slable, wherein are thirty snow-white 
nags or hacknies, and a milk-white ass, on which the pope uses to 
ride; and, for a small reward, they will make ready one of the same, 
trimmed and furnished, as if the pope were ready to ride thereon, won- 
derful stately. 

Every year, on St. Petei's Day, doth the King of Spain's orator 
present the po|)e with such a while nag; and when, on that day, the 
pope is carried from his palace to the church, there stands bis said 


Majesty's orator ready with the nag before the church door, until his 
holiness is near; then they stand still with the pope, who gives hit 
blessing, and presently the white nag falls down on both his fore knees 
before the pope; and then they carry his holiness into the church, and 
the said orator delivers the nag to the pope's steward, with a red velvet 
purse, which it carries about his neck, wherein are twelve-thousand 
Crowns for a yearly tribute. 

Then go from St. Peter's to Campo Santo, where the Dutch nation 
have their church, and you shall see a ground incompasscd with a little 
wall four square, which ground, as they credibly affirm, was brought 
from Jerusalem in the four pillars of bell-metal, which stand before the 
altar at St. John Lateran. They say, if a pilgrim be buried in that 
church yard, being a Roman, he cannot consume or decay; but any 
other nation, in twenty-four hours, arc quite consumed; which is daily 
to be seen, and much wondered at. This Campo Santo is an hospital. 
Ordained by Queen Anne of Austria, where are fed, every dinner-time, 
thirteen pilgrims, of which a great number do assemble themselves every 
morning, standing ring -wise. Out of them' the priest selects thirteen, 
and brings them into a fair room, and places one of them, as resembling 
our Saviour, in the midst, and on each other, six others, who are 
excellently well served at a long table, signifying the twelve apostles. 

The whole dinner-time, a priest doth read out of the holy writ, at the 
table, two other ministers attending, to fill wine, and to set meat in 
order; and, when they are satisfied, hand-water is given them, and those 
that desire bread to carry with them, do receive it; and then, with 
thanks, they take their leave. Then go further, if you be inclined to 
go to Santo Spirito, an hospital, and enquire for Cardinal Cesius's 
palace, which hath wonderful fair rooms, richly furnished, and adorned 
pith brave statues. 

An Hospital^ made by the Pope, 

When you come in, you shall see right out before, on both sides, 
three-hundred beds standing, all hung with very fair curtains, the bcd« 
stcads carved, night-gowns, pantables, and other necessaries in order 
placed by every bed. So soon as a sick body comes tltither (for none 
are refused) he is set on a bench, until the doctors and surgeons are 
brought to him, with the apothecaries, by whom the sick are visited. 
He is presently accepted, his bedding appointf d, and immediately a 
clean sweet shirt is given him. His cloaths are laid up, till he recovers, 
or dies; and, as soon as the sick person is any whit amended, they give 
him another lodging, where he is well attended fourteen days, and 
more, until he be well recovered. In this hospital arc thirty persons 
always maintained, only to give diligent attendance on the sick that 
resort thither. 

In the midst you shall see as many beds, as in the room you came in 
•t; and there is an altar and tabernacle, where mass is read to the sick* 


•very roorning. Both tides are hang with arra in winter-time, in sum* 
ner with gilded leather, from the ground to the top* There are con* 
tinually found, in this hospital, above three-thousand persons, as, 
children, nursesy widows, and other poor people, that are there main- 
tained. This hospital, as is credibly reported^ hath had every year^ 
income, more than two-hundred thousand crowns; but the popes of lata 
have taken it away, so that the yearly revenue now is one million seven* 
hundred thousand crowns. Then go further to see the fair spittal, 
which is a very pleasant building, adorned with stately pillars; in which 
building an Emperor may not be ashamed to keep his court. It is as 
big as a reasonable town. 

Now, having seen the whole castle, I would advise you to hire a 
coach, and so, in order, to take a view of the most principal things in 
the churches, as followeth : 

When you go out of the gate Sant Spiritus, look behind you on th« 
left hand, and you shall see that wonderful swift river, the Tiber, which 
runs through the city, and also the Vestigia, on which the brid^d 
Trionfal did stand, as the Romish Emperor went from the Vatican 
in all state and pomp over the same ; and ^rom thence to Caropo Doglio, 
where doth stand the Senato Romano, or council- house. Further, you 
will see, from the Porta Santo Spirito, towards the Angel-Castle, an 
excellent fair street; gp through the same, and on your right hand, at 
the foot of a hill, called Monte Johan Nicolo (where the Emperor 
Julias Cesar had his circus, and the Pyramis, which is on St. Peter's 
place) where at that time was a monastery, named Uonofro, pertaining 
to the Cardinal Madrazi. 

Go forwards through the gate, and on the right hand you shall see, 
right against the hill, a monastery, named St. Petri Montorio, where 
is built a chapel, like a round temple, very pleasant to behold ; go 
down from thence, and there is an altar, and two pillars of marble 
stone, between which, as they certainly affirm, St. Peter the apostle 
was martyred and crucified ; from thence you may plainly behold the 
whole city of Rome. Then go back to Sc Maria Trastevere, where are 
wonderous brave columns, and an ancient church. Under the great 
altar is a place, where was a spring of very costly oil at the time when 
oyir Saviour Christ was born ; after whose birth the spring did lose 
itself, and ceased, and therelbre the church was built on that place* 
Farther, go towards the two bridge; one of which, named Insula^ 
is fastened in with clear white marble-stone, naturally resembling a 
great ship, wherein doth stand in the midst a Pyramis, named Ponl& 
da qaatro Capi. Go over the bridge towards the Jews town^ and you 
shall see on your left hand aa aniiquater, which was, in times past^ 
Theatrum Marcclli ; it is» on the one side, as yet unruinated. Then 
inquire for Santa Maria del Portino, wherein you shall see, behind the 
great altar, a pillar that shines and lights like a torch day and night, 
which should have been transferred to St. Peter's, but, this being so 
ancient a church, the pope, without breaking the orders, may not take 
it away. Not far from thence is Pontius Filacers palace, built of red 
bricks, beiug, in those days, a curious fine work; it. is almost alto- 
gether rmiaated, and no man can aafieiy dwell thercini \yjf season of 


coodooal karly-bttrlies, or terribie appearances* Over against th« 
samey yoa shall see two ancient temples, die one long^wise, called tfat 
Temple of the Sun^ the other round lh« temple hi the Moon, built in 
tine pest in hoaoor of the planets; thej are much decayecl, by reason 
of bad weather and long stan<Mng. 

Go further, and sec the mighty great hill, Monte Palatiao, whiek 
is one of tb« seven hills of Rome* Undemeatlt, hard by a church, yon 
shall see a great marble-stone, round like a mill-itone, having twoeyes^ 
a noee, and a wide menCh, La Bocca dslla Yerita, in English, The 
Mouth of Trath; lor^ in those days, the people used to run tlii^er ta 
inquire after unknown things as, complaining of adultery, or swell 
like; the party suspected, putting his finger into that moudi, did 
swear his innocence; and he or she that did swear Isdsly, the mouth diii 
bite off his linger. Credat qui volet. 

The church, on i^hicb this, stone doth lean, is very ancient, and in 
which St. AuguA^ne kept school. Go also further, and you may Idok 
into the Tiber, where, in time past, did stand the bridge, named Fons 
SupplicuBy upon which that valiant Roman, Horatio Codes, did 
ight, and alone withstood the Tuscans so long, till the bridge fell down 
behind him; whereby the city ef Rome was preserved ; he himself, wvtk 
his horse, leaping over the bridge into the river, was saved, having 
thereby manfttlly overcome the enemy. 

Go towards St. Pau4, on your right hand, and you shall see a great 
hill, raised up only witb potsheards, and other strange earth; for, as^ 
en a time, the Emperor would tax the world, he did desire that from 
every part thereof each one should bring him for a tribute a pot full nf 
earth to that place ; and so the hill was made, as aforesaid. In the 
tine of Pope Pius the Fourth, they did use now and then to set up pales 
and rails on that ground, and gave some rich prize to be won ; then 
brought wild buffaloes and bulls, on which they hung powder and 
squibs, setting them on fire, when they would run amongst other buffa* 
h)es, making them furious; and then the Romans would take each ef 
them a pale, and he, that should overcome and kill one of those buft^ 
kesy did receive a prize. 

llien go to St. Paolo alia Porta, where doth stand an ancient 
pyramid, half part of which is built within the city, and half without. 
In the wall is a tomb twelve>huudred years old; and they s^, that the 
iint pope of Rome lie's buried there. Go further towards the gate 
through a long street, and you shall see by the way a little church by 
which St, Peter shewed himself, as St. Paul was led out to sufier and 
to die^and there St« Peter took his leave of him. You may read on the 
wall of the church, in what most pitiful manner the two apostles 
departed^ insomuch as whoso doth reaid it can scarce forbear weeping. 


It a mighty great church, built by the Emperor Constantine, in 
honour of Su Paul's head| which was fvuud there at that time. Without 


the church are four holy gates, which every Iwenty-fivfi jrears are once 
opened. When you come into the church, on your right band, is an 
altar, which was a well when St. Paul was beheaded, and before the 
i:hurch was built, into which well those that had compassion of Paul 
did cast his head, which being found, the church was there built. 
Take a view of the church, which is adorned with forty-eight might j 
great marble-stone pillars, of all manner of colours, curiously wrought, 
po great and high, that the like arc not to be seen in all Rome. 

In the midst of the church, you shall see a chapel, wherein Queen 
Bridget of Sweden did use to do her devotion. Right against that chapel 
stands a crucifix, and Queen Bridget had a little window in the chapel, 
thro' which she might see the crucifix, where she did her devotion with 
iuch fervency, that the crucifix turned, and looked towards the window, 
and stands so to this day ; and there are great indulgences and pardons 
Ibr sins, to be obtained every year, by|^uch as doj heartily and unfeign« 
edly desire the same. Above the great altar do lie buried three inno* 
cent children, which were slain by Herod's command. There are also 
seven altars privileged; so that, if any person be loth to go as far as St. 
Peter's, they may here have as many indulgences and pardons for their 
tins, as they can have at St. Peter's. Then enquire for the sacristan, 
and he will lead you into the sacristy, and shew you the relicks upon 
the altar; he will shew you the arm of St. Arma, our dear loving mother^ 
with skin and bone, through a window of chrystal; the arm is fastened 
in with silver, which I myself have touched. Further you shall see 
the chain in which St. Paul was bound in prison, which chain, if any 
nan puts it about his neck, he shall never, all the days of his life, be 
fettered in iron chains, nor imprisoned, as they say. There are also 
many other relicks, as, the water wherewith Christ was baptised; certain 
atones wherewith St. Stephen was stoned ; and abo half the corpses of 
Peter and Paul. 

At that time, when Charles the Fifth, Emperor, was at Rome, he 
desired the pope to grant him a request which he would ask, promising, 
4hat he would desire neither land, nor money, nor any thing that was 
worth money. The pope demanding what it was, the Emperor said, 
he did only crave one of the links of St. Paul's chain; but the pope 
gave him no more than half a link, as is this day to be seen, the other 
half part remaining yet on the chain. Bestow something then to drink. 
Afterwards go towards the three fountains. There was St. Paul be- 
headed, whose head being struck off, it leaped three times, as they 
say, and at every leap it called Jesus; and presently after there sprung 
up three springs, which are now compassed about very pleasantly ; and 
by each one doth hang a copper little pan, out of which the people 
use to drink. There stands a table by the same, on which is written, 
Whoso drinks out of those springs, shall attain everlasting salvation. 
The Romans do run thither barefoot in the morning early to drink: 
before you come to the three wells, you shall see a hill, on which there 
have been slain, by the tyrannical emperor's command, one-hundred- 
seventy-four-thousand martyrs; then go from the three fountains towards 
Sebastiaa'sy which is one of the seven principal churches. 


This church stands on the way side without Rome, called Appia, 
whither is a continual icsort of a wonderful number of pilgrims, esp«- 
cially in the time of Lent. Hard by a place called Catatumbs, is a 
wall wherein did lie secretly hid the bodies of St. Peter and Paul, as 
they say, two-hundred and fifty years before any body could know 
what was become of them. On the same is built an altar with [especial 
privileges, at which intercession is made for the afflicted souls, that, as 
yet, are detained in purgatory. 

Then desire a priest to go with you that hath a torch lighted, lest you 
lose yourselves in the grotto or vault, Under which lies buried Calixtus, 
with one-hundred eighty-six-thousand martyrs. And in your going out 
you shall see an altar under which Sebastian lies buried. I'he priest 
will let you sec divers other rclicks; as, the measure and form, the 
length and bigness of our Saviour^s feet, which he left on the hill at 
his holy ascension. Then go towards the city again by the way of 
Appia, where you ^hall come to a chapel, by which two ways do part: 
and there did St. Peter meet our Saviour, and said, ' Whither wilt thou 
go?* Our Saviour answered, 'I am come for thy sake, and to be 
crucified ag^in.' Presently after our Saviour vanished away, and St. 
Peter went into the city of Rome, where he was very shortly after cast 
into prison, and put to death. 


These Thermse have been baths which the Emperor Constantine 
caused to be built at an infinite cost, and admii*able curiosity, the 
water being led unto them twenty-seven Italian miles. 


This was in times past a heathenish temple, pertaining to the Hun- 
garian nation, but since costly built by Pope Gregory the Thirteenth, 
wherein are most excellently drawn and portrayed the death and tor- 
tures of all such martyrs as have suflfercd since the birth and passion of 
our Blessed Saviour, and under what tyrants they were persecuted. 

This temple, in former times, was named Pantheum, by reason all 
the Gods were presented and honoured there ; now there are many 
reformed Jews baptised therein, as you may see oftentimes. Then go 
towards John de Lateran, where heretofore the popes have had their 


One of the seven capital churches. When you go towards the church, 
you shall see on your right hand a little court, where doth stand a stone 


pillar of Perfido, on whreb (fie cock 4id stand and crow thrice, before 
Ptter denied our Saviour Christ. There is also a temple, wherein arc 
very stately pillars, and, in the nridst, is a little chest, made over a 
stone kettle, ouf of which the Emperor Constantine was christened, 
who was the first Christian Emperor, theit go forwards, afid enquire 
for the sacristan of St. John ; he will go before you with two burning 
torches, and shew you a chapel tinderneath the church, which is never 
opened but on great holidays; if you salute hiiA courteously, he wiH 
&pen it f«r you. Therein is a tabU*, at which our Saftiour Christ did 
sit with his apostles, at the institution of the holy sacrament ; it ia of 
wood four square. You shall see also the staff with which Moses parted 
the Red Sea, and led the children of Israel througb it ; dlso the fCaiif 
of Aaron, wherewith he governed the episcopal state. Then go out of 
the church, nttd yoti shall sec a chair of stone; and, they say, when a 
pope is to be chosen, they set him on the same (heing bollow) to sec, 
whether he be fitted as a man. Hard by the same is a hc\y gate, which 
h opened once in twenty-five years. The cieling of this churcb is over* 
giMed with pure gold. By the great akar are four pHlars of belUmetaf, 
exceeding fair, which were brotrght from Jerusalem^ filled with holy 
earth, for they are hollow, and most curk>us1y wrought. There arc 
also shewed to the people, on great holidays, the heads of St. Peter 
and Paul, laid upon the altar; they are yet fresh to b6hold with skin 
and hair, as if they were living. In this church are many other relicks 
and holy things, of which I onnt to write. It was built by the Emperor 
Constantine, and is very stately, and is adorned with pillars of marble* 
stone, of all sorts of col ou rev 

Then go into the cloisters, where doth stand a table of stone upon four 
pillars, under which every man or Woman, that comes thither, do 
measure themselves ; but there was never any person yet found, that 
was just of that height; it was, as fhey say, the exact stature of our 
Saviour Christ. Further, there are three open doors and gates, which 
have stood in Herod's Palace, at Jerusalem, through which our Blessed 
Saviour went, as he was condemned to die. Moreover, above, in the 
gallery, over two fair half pillars, doth lie a beam, whereon is written, 
£t petr» scisssB sunt, as in the text is mentioned, ' The stones clave in 
sunder, and the vail did rend;' from whence the two' half pillars of 
marble stone are cloven so neatly asunder, that it is not possible, by the 
art and diligence of man, to doit more cleanly. They are also very 
curiously wrought. Over against that, is a little window, wherein tha 
Blessed Virgin Mary did sit, as the angel Gabriel brought her the salu- 
tation from God. Hard by, arc a pair of stairs, and it is forbidden, 
under punishment of losing t>ody and goods, that no man must presume 
to go up and down the same on his feet, but on his knees. There are 
thirty-two stairs, over which our Saviour Christ went with Simon, at 
he was led to be martyred, and, upon those stairs, did drop bloody 
sweat, as a man may sec perfectly to this day. Hard by the same, are 
other stairs, and, when you are half the way up, go on your left hand, 
and you shall come to a chapel, called Sanctum' Sanctorum, where, 
upon the great altar,- is the foce of our Saviour Christ, which St. Luke 
pictured^ In this* ohapcl, ia a picce-of wood Dutciied inl« thtf wa)^ 


being a piece of Noah's ark, which was brought thither. Then go to 
the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, as they call it, which is one of the scTcn 
churckesy and governed by Cardinal Caraffsu 


When yoo come into this church, ask for the sacristan, who will 
shew yoo a little glass, wherein is kept, as they say, the milk of the 
mother of God, besides many other relicks. Also the cardinal hath the 
key to a nail, that was struck through a foot of our Saviour Christ ; 
also three thorns of the crown, that pierced his holy head ; likewise 
thetitle^ which Pilate writ on the holy cross, in Hebrew, Greek, and 
Latin. There you shall go down, under the altar, where the Cardinal 
hath the custody of many holy relicks. 

Then go to St. Laurence, lying without the city walls, which is one 
of the seven churches* 


St Laurence^s church doth stand a mile from the place where his 
corpse was buried. The stone, on which he was broiled, is yet to be 
seen bloody and fatty, as it did drop upon the same, and no man can 
wipe it out. There is also a piece of the gridiron, upon which he was 
broiled; and here lies St. Stephen buried, and certain stones are there 
to be seen, wherewith he was stoned, and there is a great indulgentia. 

One of the Seven Churches. 

When you gp to this most fair excellent church, on the outside about, 
jou will wonder to see the admirable costly entry, built by Pope Gre- 
gory the Thirteenth. You shall also see one of the seven holy gates, 
which is but once opened in twenty-five years. Then go from thence, 
to John Lateran, which church is adorned with fair tombs; on the stile, 
where the chapel doth stand, there are also very stately columns, and 
the roof thereof is very richly painted, and over-gilt. There is, on the 
right side* by the great altar, a very fair chapel, built by Pope Gregory 
the Thirteenth ; and, just thereby, is a mighty pyramid erected, which 
is like to that at St. Peter's. I'his chapel is also like to that where 
Pope Gregory lies buried, which he caused to be built; but this 
did Sextus the Fifth build, who lies there buried. The said pyramid, 
in former time, did lie a long while in the street of St. Rocha, 
parted in three parts ; and Pope Sixtus caused them to be conveyed 
into his chapel. There have been two of these pyramids, which were 
erected in the Mausoleum of Augustus Csesar, hard by his tomb| 
VOL* XII. n 


but, as Rome was devasted, they were ruined. The Mausoleum yet fa 

very delightful to behold, wherein doth dwell a Roman, by wbom^ a 

man may learn the particulars thereof. In the church Maria Maggfor, 

you shall see the manger, wherein our Blessed [Saviour did lie at Beth* 

lehem, together with many other relicks, which the sacristan may shew 

you ; otherwise, they are to be seen only on great holidays. In the 

choir, is a fair epitaph and tomb of Pope Nicholas the Fourth, which 

is wondcrous stately and admirable, richly adorned. Before the choir, 

on the left hand, is an altar, under which St. Jerome lies buried. Whea 

you go out of the church, on the right hand, you shall see an altar, 

on which is written the original cause of the building of the church; 

namely, there were two married persons, that had no children, and 

were so rich, that they knew not what to do wherewith. In the twelfth 

night, in the month of August, they dreamed, that they should arise 

before day, and go up towards that hill, where it had snowed, and 

there they should build a temple; which they did accordingly, and 

began to dig, with their own hands ; and the pope came, just at that 

instant, with his servants, with intent, as he had also dreamed, to build 

a temple there ; and, therefore, it is yet the custom, every year, oa 

the twelfth of August, for a memorial, to solemnise a great feast ; 

and, from the top of the church, they let fall certain things, seeming 

as if it did snow. When you will go back again through the churchy 

towards the holy gate, you shall see another church, named Santa 

Potentiana; therein is half a pillar of green marble-stone to be seen 

through a grate, on which our Blessed Saviour, Christ Jesus, was 

whipped. In this church are two wells, wherein the two sisters, St* 

Praxedis and Potentiana, did use to drop the blood of the roartyn, 

which they took up with a spunge. Then go back again, through Sc. 

Maria Maggior, and, as you go down the hill on your right band, there 

the Pope did visit, on a time, the seven churches. As he came by 

Cardinal de Monte AIto*s garden, he enquired whose fair and pleasant 

palace that was ; answer was made. The Cardinal de Monte Alto's. 

After which. Pope Gregory the Thirteenth did weaken his revenue, 

per annum, by four-thousand crowns ; which cardinal was afterwards 

pope, and named Sixtus Quintus. Over against the same, you shall 

see an ancient church, called Pancratio, where, on a time, a priest did 

say mass, and did doubt, that it was no sacrament, and that our 

Saviour Christ was not in Ostia ; and it chanced, as they say, that it 

fell out of his hand, on a point of the corner of the altar, l>eing a white 

marble-stone, on which the Ostia left the print thereof; just as big, as 

it was from the corner, it fell upon a stair, on which likewise it left the 

print thereof, and the form very naturally, only the print did change 

itself into a blood-red colour. 

Then go further to St. Maria de Monte, where is as frequent a pil- 
grimage, as at Maria Loretto. In the place wHere this church doth 
stand, there stood, in former time, a barn, and it was intended to have 
built a house there ; and, as they began to dig, there was heard a 
mighty oracle, and therefore they digged more softly, where then was 
found the picture of the Virgin Mary; which being made known to the 
popc^ he went and fctched the same with a solemn processioni and it b 


kept still in honour of ihe Blessed Virgin; wherefore, Pope Gregory 
the Thirteenth caused, on the place, a church to be built at his own 
charges. This church is built all of marble-stone, most cunningly; 
and, in especial, the great altar, where the picture, that was found, 
is most richly adorned. In the said church, do hang divers tables, 
wherein is noted the miracles which, in former times, have been done 
there, and yet daily are done; those, therefore, that go in pilgrimage 
thither, and do pray with a strong and certain hope, are heard, and 
thdr suits obtained, as you yourselves may thereby be truly assured. 
There are daily Indulgentia plcnaria and remission of sins. Then go to 
St. Pet^ in Vinculo. 


In this church you shall see an excellent epitaph and tomb of Pope 
Leo the Second, which is an incomparable piece of work, and all of 
white marble-stone, and alabaster; there is a statue of Moses, the 
heighth of two men, of one intire piece, and also other fair statues; the 
monks can shew you many holy relicks, together with the chain with 
which St. Peter was fettered in prison. Without in the cloisters, it it 
veiy pleasant winter and summer, being planted with orange-trees, and 
)D the midst a mighty date-tree, like to which there are none found, 
neither in Rome, nor in all Italy. The monastery is also situated won- 
derous pleasant, t>cing a building so well fitted, that the Pope might 
conveniently keep his court therein. 

Over-against that, is the palace of the Lord George Ca^sarini Ursini, 
which is so rare and excellent a building as is wonderful to behold. 

Tke Palace of Lord GEORGE URSINl together toith the 


The overseer of the same was in my time a Low-Country man ; he 
will shew you such exceeding fair rooms, and chambers, as the like are 
scarce to be seen any where else, adorned with stately arras all of cloth 
of gold, and tissue; tables of precious stone, and beds richly furnished 
beyond comparison; statues and pictures portrayed so naturally, as 
that the beholders are enticed to embrace them in their arms, falling in 
love with them, they seeming laughing and living creatures. Desire to 
see the hindmost room, where the noble-man hath the oldest pieces of 
work made three or four-hundred years since, and other rare things 
whereof I omit to write; there is also pictured the tower of Babylon on 
a square piece, which cost above ten-thousand crowns. This noble- 
man is af the ancient Roman race; his lady is the daughter of Cardinal 
Famesius, so beautiful that, in Rome, she may not be compared ; you 
shall see two very excellent fair gardens, graced with admirable pictures, 
mud ftatuei : bestow a little to drink. Go from thence as if you would 



go towards your lodging, and enquire for the Cardinal of Florence's 
house, where you shall sec a most excellent fair palace, bat little. It is 
wholly to be compared to a fair jewel; you must intreat the keeper 
thereof, not to with-hold any thing from you|r sight, promising him ^ 
reward) and then he will shew you orderly one thing after another, aa 
rooms, chambers, and gardens, set forth and adorned with arras of gol4 
and tissue, wonderous fair statues, and tables of precious stone. In sum, 
every particular as rich and costly as may be devised. Also, in the gar- 
den, a cage wherein are all kinds of birds making sweet harmony, diveis 
rare water-works, and plentifully planted with cypress- trees, yielding % 
savour so admirable sweet, as the body therewith may be ravished*. 
There are also mighty great vaults under ground, wherein they used to 
dine and sup in summer-time, by reason of the extraordinary heat, 
which are adorned with rare pictures, statues, and histories; theplacein 
former time being a waste and ruined ground, and decayed wall, fallen 
firom the temple of Peace, which stands just behind the same ; being of 
a great antiquity, built by the old RomanEmperors, after Jerusalem was 
destroyed, thercby to signify that they had no need to maintain wan, 
^r they thought there was no nation in the world, that durst war against 
them. The building is so strong a work, that it was intended, it should 
remain as long as the world stood ; but, as our Saviour Christ was bOm, 
the said temple fell, and yeti every Christmas night, there falls a gmi 
piece from the same. 


When you desire to go up to this mighty great pillar, you must call 
to the stone-cutter, that dwells over-against the same, who hath the 
key thereto : But he wil^have something to drink, before he openeth the 

They say, that this pillar was built by the Emperor Trajan, after he 
had won Jerusalem, in memory of his victory, all of white marble-stone, 
wherein are engraved orderly all the battles and victories, which he hath 
had. A man may ascend up to the top of this pillar in the inside one* 
hundred and eighty-six stairs high, the stpne-work being so orderly laiil 
upon the other, that one would verily think the whole pillar was but- 
one intire stone. I will give you warning of one thing when you come 
up: Sit and resi,lH'fore you look up to the top of the pillar, or befi>m 
you go round about it on the outside, for 1 myself, unawares, was almost, 
dizzied and ready to fall. From this column you may see over th^ 
whole city ; then you may go towards the other pillar, cailed» Columua 


This pillar is like unto the other, built by the eiuperpr AatpQiQiai^ 
after his obtained victoriesi in perpetiial memory. Part of this pillar 



Ml dowiif by reason whereof no man could go up these many yrars; bu^ 
the Pope, that was last, hath caused tl^e same to be well repaired, and 
now they go up thereunto. Then go presently to the street, named, de 
Popoloy where the Cardinal Ferdinando de Medicis (he that is now 
great Duke of Florence) hath an exceeding fair and stately palace, and 
gardes of pleasuR*. The palace lies on an hill, named Monte Trinitatis. 
First afaali be shewn you the hall, wherein, you shall sec mighty square 
pieces of stone, and, by the window, is a water-spout erected so high, 
that a man may wash his hands, standing in the gallery above; and 
from thence also you may bok over the city of Rome. Then go from 
the ball into the sixteen chambers, or rooms, where you shall always 
kx>k out of them into the others, if the doors stand open; which rooms 
are so richly adorned and furnished with arras of wrought gold and sil« 
Ter, as no Emperor, or Pope, hath the like ; and, as the walls are hung, 
so are the beds dressed accordingly. The rooms arc graced with rare 
tables of precious stone, and oriental pearl set therein, and also with 
brave statues and pictures. You shall sec on a table a little temple, 
and, when a man puts his head into it, he shall think it were a church 
ofa mile in compass, having certain hundred pillars, the prospective 
looking-glass therein causing the same. You shall see, in one of the 
nxHns, a very fair sphere, fitted for astrology, which the great Duke 
Cosnmsdid use. Then go up the stairs, where are also exceeding states 
\y rooms, adorned with mighty statues, costly arras and tables,<and ex- 
cellent rare pictures. There is a looking-glass, in which (standing a 
little space from it) you shall see plainly the city of High Siena, together 
with the manner of the besieging it; and, when you draw nearer unto it, 
you shall see the Great Duke naturally as if living; but, when you come 
just to it, you behold yourself only and alone. Then, going out of the pa- 
lace, on your left har.J. you shall sec two lions, an eagle, a leopard, and 
other strange beasts. When you go a little further, you shall see a tower 
standing at the end of the garden, on the old city wall, where a man 
may go out of, and into the city, when he pleases ; such a privilege hath 
never any man had in Rome, but only this Cardinal; for, as he was rc^ 
folved to build a palace there, he shewed his grievance to the senators of 
tbe city, namely, that, the place being altogether a hill, it would be an 
infinite charge to bring it into a plain; neither did he know whither all 
that earth should be conveyed, that would be taken from the hill ; and, 
therefore, he obtained leave of the Pope to break a hole through the 
city wall to carry the earth conveniently away, and to make a door to 
open and shut, at pleasure. They thought he should have enjoyed the 
oonveniency of that door, no longer than the time of his building, but 
he was toocrafty for them, the door remaining there to this day. Go a 
little farther^ and there is a stone pit, where arc very rare statues 
made and repaired ; for, what antiquity soever the Cardinal can have 
for money, that be buyeth to adorn and furnish the said palace. Not 
far from thence, the Cardinal caused a hill to be made, and one-hundred 
and fifty stairs to go up ; on the top, is built an excellent pleasant sum- 
madhouse, with many rare green and fruitful trees, compassing the same, 
in which house he uses to dine and sup, when the weather is hot. There 
i^ htfd by tbe t&ble, a firsh^water chest to cool his wine in; from that 

B 3 


place you may overlook the whole city of Rome. The hill is overgrown 
from the bottom to the top with cypress trees, which is as pleasant a 
prospect as man can imagine. The garden is adorned with such and to 
many artificial and rare water-works, plants, and statues, as would drive 
a roan to admire ; and, in truth, the like is in all Rome not to be seen. 
The Cardinal, on a time, invited certain noblemen to a supper in that 
garden, the drink only to which supper did cost sixty-thousand crowns; 
judge then what the whule feast did cost. The compass of the garden is 
two Italian miles, and very broad. Then do not neglect to go to the gar* 
den of a certain knight, named Nero; where is built a little palace, but 
wonderous stately, and a room made all of chrystal glass. Then go out 
of the gate del Popolo, about half a mile from Rome, where is the rara 
and pleasant garden of Pope Julius the Second, wherein are excellent 
artificial water-works; and there is a palace gloriously adorned with 
rare antiquities aud statues, of the oldest and best in all Rome. 


If this palace had been finished, it were the biggest, fairest, and strong* 
est of all others in .Rome, with wonderful high rooms, which the Pope, 
Paulus Farnesius, caused to be built. Go in on the right hand under 
the vault, and there dwells the overseer thnthath the key; he will shew 
you everything in order; bestow something upon him to drink. And, 
£rst, you shall see a mighty gn-at hall, the sight of which will make 
you wonder, by reason of the great height, the ceiling being cunningly 
raised beyond comparison, all of cypri'ss wood. In this hall is along 
table of oriental marble-stone and alabaster, set wi*h pearl. Lapis Lazuli, 
and other costly stones, which the Cardinal would not part with for 
eighty-thousand crowns. Then go into the other rooms, which are all 
royally furnished ; and in the first room are the ancientrst emperors nar 
turally portrayed ; therein is also an idol, which the Romans (heathenish 
opiniated) did adore. In this room are three great tables of oriental 
alabaster, set with divers other precious stones, glistering like a burning 
torch. Before this room on the right hand is a little chapel, and upon 
the altar a wonderful fair square, painted by that famous artisan Michael 
Angelo, a Florentine, and thereon the Last Day of Judgment, so exqui* 
gitcly and cunningly, that no where the like may befound ; bestow to 
drink. Go then down again into the court yard, where you shall see 
six mighty statues, made by two perfect cunning masters, for a great 
wager, namely, two Com modi I mperatores, two Dea Flora's, and two 
Hercoli, worthy of each experienced beholder, which of them are made 
most cunningly. Not far from thence you shall come into another 
court, and there is a mighty ox, and thn-e statues ; a dog, a shepherd, 
and a concubine, nigh as it they were alive there present. These said 
pieces are made of onr whole intire white marble^stone, which is an ad* 
mirable piece of work, touching the particulars whereof there were 
much to be written. But the histories will largely declare the same, 
which are to be found in the Emperor AntoninDs's Thermal haviqg 


stood there also on a tirocy which Pope Paulus Famcsius caused to be 
brought into this place aforesaid. A little further, you shall ^e two 
nighty great kettles of stone, which did stand also in the said Thcrmse. 
Go over-ag^nst that place, and take a view of a bishop's palace,whercin 
are wonderous fair statues. 

The Palace of the Bishops of Valencia in Spain* 

There, in the first room above, stands a mighty fair statue, named 
Apollo, exceeding old, and yet no whit at all decayed, of oriental ala« 
baster; the said bishop was offered, by the Cardinal deMedicis, twenty- 
four thousand crowns for the same; but the bishop \tould not take it* 
Then go over Campo dc Fiore, where Cardinal Famcsius dwells* 


This is an extraordinrry fair building, four-square below, and abovet 
with mighty columns and pillars ; the like are not in all Rome ; and 
also wonderful fair galleries four-square about. And, when you go up 
the stairs, there stand two mighty Dea Flora's, of marble-stone, at which 
you will much wonder; whoso can carry them away, may keep thera* 
Jd this palace is a fair cburch, which many people pass by UDknown, 
and without seeing it, for it is built like to the palace ; therein is an arm 
of the saint from whom the church is named. Take a sight of the Car- 
dinal's stable, wherein are, most commonly, above an hundred and fifty 
brave horses. 

The Jesuits Churchy which the Cardinal built at his own charge. 

This is a marvellous stately temple, covered all over with copper, ex- 
ceeding high, great, and wide. In the choir stands an altar, which, to- 
gether with the tabernacle, did cost about thirty-thousand crowiis, with 
very (air and stately pillars of marble-stone. Also, the Cardinal caused, 
for forty-thousand crowns, gold coin or pence to be made, and also some 
of silver and brass, on which were stamped his picture. The same be 
laid, with his own hands, for a foundation; and afterwards such of his 
friends, as he had heretofore invited, did the like, for an everlasting me- 
mory. The building of this temple continued five years, all upon the 
cardinal's cost and charges. They affirm, that this temple cost a certain 
ton of gold the building. One ton ot gold is reckoned at twenty-thou- 
sand pounds sterling. 

Then go right oat djrough the straight street, and you shall coroc to 
the Campodoglio. 



C4MP0D0GLI0, or the Romatts CouncU^kouii. 

In this Campodo^lio, or Capitoliam, did the Romant use to lit ia 
council ; it was afterwards made a strong castle, being in tke time of war 
devasted, but repaired again by Pope Gregory the Thirteenth, and adoi^ 
ed with a fair clock-tower. Go into the court, and up an exceeding 
stately pair of stairs, before which are two great horses of marble^tone ; 
and another above, in the court, of bell-metal, on which sits the Emperor 
Adrian, all over gilded with pure ducat-gold. Go into another court, 
and there lies a head un the ground, which is made very perfectly ; 
it pertains to the head named Campodoglvoo ; it was in times past a 
statue, standing there for an ornament, andit shall be erected again in 
like manner as it hath been. Many have laid wagers, that the face is 
not a man's length, but, being measured, it is longer ; whereby one may 
guess how great the whole body hath been, and how much the erecting 
thereof cost. Go further, and you shall behold wonderful excellent 
histories and statues; then go beyond, where they sit in council, where 
^re stately statues and glorious pictures, and in what manner the Ro» 
man Emperors in triumph have gone through the gate,when they return- 
ed home with laudable victories. You shall see also rare antiquities. 
Bestow something to drink. Then go right ovcr-against the Campodpgr 
)io, into the Church, yarned M^ria Ara Coeli. 


This is a very aiicient church, over-against which are stairs an hiui* 
4red and forty-two steps high, on which you may overlook all Rome* 
When you come into the church, you shall see the cieling all over gilde4 
with pure ducat*gold. There are wonderful brave and stately great pil- 
lars, all of marble-stone; there is an altar hani by the choir, where you 
shall see, upon a white marble-stone, two prints of feet, left by the angel 
Michael, in the Angel Castle, when he put up the naked sword, and 
presently vanished. Not far from thence, before the church was built, did 
St. Hicronymus (as they say) shew unto the Emperor Constantino the 
Virgin Mary, with the child Jesus in her anns, which was there also 
seen inthc^ir; whereby the Emperor came to the acknowledgment of 
the Christian Faith, and from wbepce the church was named, and buill 
by the said Emperor Constantine* Go afterwards out of that chnrch 
down the stairs ; there is a place, called Capo Vaccbino, where ^as 
made a bridge, in times past, from the Campodoglio> over to the palaco 
Maggior, where do stand three marble-stone pillars, one by another, over 
ivhich the bridge was made. By the said three pillars, Marcus Curr 
^ii^, with his horse, did leap down, 


They do constantly affirm,that by these three columns, in former times, 
u^ a ipighty and ugly hole, whic^i for ^e space of a long time, did 


IfSeld a very ooitoroe smoke and stink ; and, whosoever did smell the 
same, he fell suddenly down, and died. And although they did often* 
times attempt, by casting into the hole many things, to choak it up* 
yet Bothing did help, nor hinder the fifthy savour thereof. But, on 
a time, there was heard a voice, that came out of that hole, saying 
The hole would not be shut up, nor the noisome scent be asswaged, 
unless a Roman did leap thereinto with a horse. 

Now, as Marcus Cuilius (being a Roman of noble parentage and 

Sirit) did understand the same, he made oflfer to the senate of ihe city, 
at (»tnce the welfare of the city, and his native country, depended 
diereon) he would venture his life for the common good, and with his 
hone lesp down, provided that one suit might be first granted unto him; 
namely, that, for the space of one whole year, he might have free 
liberty to accoroplbh his lust, and desire, with fair and beautiful 
women, and virgins, and that none, whom he should take liking of, 
might be denied him ; which request was granted him by the Roman 
senate. So, after the year was ended, wherein he enjoyed what his heart 
CQuld wish, he mounted on horseback, and leaped into that hellish 
fiery pit, which instantly did^'close of its own accord, and thereby tha^ 
mischief was ceased. Right over-against the same, did stand the house 
of Cicero, where, as yet, you may see the old walls thereof. When you 
go from the Campodoglio, you shall see a port of triumph, which the 
Roman senate caused to he made for Vespasian the Emperor, as he 
came from Jerusalem, to Rome, through which he rid in most magnifi- 
cent state. 

Over*against the same, you shall see the Temples of the Planets near 


There are seven of those temples built by Pontius Pilate's house, in 
honour of the planets, but now they are deva^ted. And not far from 
them, there is built another temple, called De la Pace, or Temple of 
Peace, which fell in as Vespasian came from Jerusalem, and every 
Christmas since the birth of Christ, there hath fallen, and yet, as they 
say, a great piece doth yearly fall from the same. Then go towards the 
An^phidieatrnm Vespasiani ; you must pass through a triumph«port. 
Before the same without, there is an old decayed wall, where formerly 
the people did use to see the spectacles in the circus, and out of which 
wall did always run wine, of which the spectators did drink as much as 
ihey listed. This Amphitheatrum was built by the Emperor Vespasian, 
in which may sit conveniently and well accommodated 50,000 persons, 
lo behold the rare spectacles. The Emperor himself,^ in this place, 
did overcome, and slew in fight, with his own hands, one-hundred wild 
and furious beasts, in one afternoon; but he fought only with one at 
once, and one after another. 

Right befDre the same you shall see a wonderous fair g^te of triumph 
which the Emperor caused to be built, through which he went in mag- 


nificent pomp. Then go to the Thermae Dioclesiani, where are the 
^even halls, coming into which you shall see on each tide seven halls, 
where, in former time, the Emperor Adrian had his palace, and dwelt 
there It is somewhat dangerous to venture into the said halls, being 
underground, for some have perished therein; then go the next day, to 
the Thermas. 


These were built by the Emperor only for baths. They do write that 
no Emperor, since, hath been of ability to build the like, containing 
so great a circuit, and adorned with so many columns and pillars of 
brass. The baths being furnished with most stately and rich beds, 
and all other necesaries beyond all comparison. Pope Gregory the 
Thirteenth hath transferred this building to an hospital ; in which do 
stand eight mighty pillars of marble-stone, each one so big, that men 
can scarce fathom it about ; in height they are ninety feet. Over-ag^nst 
the same, is a sweet and pleasant garden, wherein are divers memorable 
things to be seen. Then go to Monte Cavallo, where is the marvellous 
fair palace, and garden of the Cardinal Carpi, now the pope's; if you 
desire to see the same, address yourself to the gardener, who will shew 
you every particular in order, the palace being set out with admirable 
fair rooms, and chambers, richly adorned with tables of precious stone, 
and hanging|5 of wrought gold and silver. In the garden are many strange 
antiquities, most delightful to behold. 

The palace and garden, are situated on a high hill, and yet have water 
plentifully: give something to drink. 

The Pope's Palace and Garden^ which wasformerlj/ the Cardinals of 


You shall first see the garden which is marvellous spacious, three 
Italian miles; the same is full of rare and costly fruits, like to which 
are none in all Italy, besides many antiquities therein to be seen. In 
this garden doth the pope oftentimes dine and sup ; let them shew jou 
the rare fountain, which has admirable and pleasant spring water. 
Then go to the Grotto Sibylla, which is an incomparable pleasant place, 
adorned with mighty fair statues, giving water from them; just over 
this vault or grotto, the pope hath his chambers and dwelling. This 
palace was built by Pope Gregory the Thirteenth, much larger, and 
the rooms more richly adorned, intending to have the ConsistOi- 
rium kept therein, and not to go always so far as St. Peter's ; but 
he lived not so long as to finish it. The next pope did accomplish it with 
water-works, in such sort, as it is to be admired how it was possible to 
lead the water up so high. In the gttrden, a man may take a most 
pleasant view of the whole city. 



There you shall see two mighty horses of white marble-stone, made 
af one intire stone, as natural, as if they were living, insomuch that, 
in all Europe, may not be found the like. These horses did stand in 
the Therms Dioclesiani, on which two famous masters, that made 
them, did strive to shew their skill ; a particular, worthy to be noted. 
Not far from thence is a sroel ting-house, and hard by, a horse cast of 
bell-metal, wonderful artificially, with the King of France sitting 
thereon, named Henry, most naturally, and were he living, the same 
should have been sent into France. The city is built round with strong 
walls, and mighty towers, standing near one another. The city of Rome 
is in compass about above five Dutch miles. 

Heretj^tr foUatM what is to be teen without Rome. 

TlVOUf a Palace and Garden, three Dutch miles from Rome. 

This is a marvellous stately palace. The keeper of it is a gardener ; 
you shall see therein admirable rich furnished rooms, hung with 
cloth of gold and silver, and the bods adorned correspondently* 
Therein are also excellent fair statues, and tables of precious stone set 
with oriental pearl. In the great hall is an artificial water-chest. When 
the cardinal, in summer-time, doth dine in the same, the whole is made 
pleasing cold, by the spirting of water out of the said water-chest, from 
whence also, the wine standing on the table is quickened. The parti- 
cular situation of the whole city of Rome, and the pleasant prospect 
thereof, doth present itself fully to the spectators in this great hall. 
Then you may go down from the palace into the garden, where you 
shall be led into a vault, or grotto, where you shall see a terrible 
dowufuU of water, from whence all the other artificial water-work* 
have their motions. Then you shall be led to a place, where 
you shall hear the organs play melodiously, as if an artificial 
master did play thereon; but the motion is derived from the water* 
spouts, continually spirting as long as the organs do sound, the water 
being spouted higher than the tops of the spouts, at least the height of 
six tall men. Go a little further, and you shall see a dragon with four 
heads, spouting water the height of six men, with so great a noise, as 
if many many musquets were continually discharged, the water being 
of so black a colour, that it resembleth an ugly smoke, fearful to 
behold. Then you shall see the Grotto, named Sibylla, full of admi* 
lable antiquities and statues. The grotto, both above on the ceiling, 
and all over on the sides, is richly adorned with oriental coral and 
mother of pearl. A little further you shall see the temples of the Seven 
Planets, naturally resembling those which formerly stood in Rome; 
they are not very big, but standing exceeding pleasant, the one hard 
by the other. Not far from thence is an artificial water- work, which 
being let go, the birds do sing, sitting upon twigs, so naturaPy, as on9 


would verily think they were all quick and living birds, which is ocea* 
sioned by the water; and^ wh^n tbey #e i6 the midst of their' best 
singing, then comes an owl flying, and the birds suddenly, all at once, 
are stiiL The» gs> a little further, and yoo shaif see t^ehty-fburv qtire 
stones, like chests^ havrng ob each side spouts, spirting waiter ontt 
against another; and, when Um sun dolh shine thereinto, the spouts and 
wamr d<^ give a natural rainbow, notwithstanding the weather be clear ; 
which is a tery great woader, and, whoso doth see it, would swear rt 
wer^ a natural rainbow kideed. Hard by are two excelknt fine laib;^ 
rhitks, remaining green winter and summer : bestow something to dribky 
iod fhea return to Rome again. 

Hereafter foUcms the way from Rome to Naplu, 

From Rome to Torre a Mczavia, aii inn, six miles ; from thence to 
Manna, a little town, six miles ; ft-om thence to Velietri, a pleasant 
town, where is made much boiled wine (take heed of it) eight teiles ; 
thence to Cisterna, a little town, pertaining to the Cardinal Sermoneta, 
4x miles; froitt: thence tO' Sermoneta^ Oying very pleasant on a hill^ a 
ftie town, and strong fort, from whence they ring a brave peal of ord<* 
iian<5e, when they understand that some person of note passes by ; yoa 
urast travel hard by the same ; the Emperor Charles the First did writd 
with hie own hand, and on the altar, the year and- day of his being 
there^ but none of hie soldiere were suffered to go up) seven milee; 
IKhb SemionetBFlo Casa Nova,' a good inn, eight mile^; thence to 
Ala Baditi, an inn, eight miles ; tbence to Terracina, a town of the 
pop</s, and there ends the pop^s jurisdiction^ nine miles; thence to 
Fotdi, a little town (but, before you come thither, there is, by the 
way, a^ strong watch kept, being Neapolitans, who will make search 
whati each traveller carries with him) it is named Alia Portella^ six 
miles-; when thoy search you, take that course which is usual at the 
places of custom^ or at the gates, vis. grease one of them in the hand 
with a bribe, and' tbey will presently dismiss you. From Fondi to 
MoHa, a great market town, laying bard by the sea, wheit is exceeding 
good wine, and admirable cool fresh water; youmay, in sammer-tim% 
dine and rup in a garden, under citron and orange triers ; you may 
pluck of them a» many as you please; there are excellent good fish 
also, free for evety man to take. 

Then go rieht oveiwigaidsl that, and enqnire for the mighty strong 
fbrt, named GaetH; it b alK)ttt half » mik thither. 


lUs is the key of the kingdom of Naples; in the sume do lie Span- 
iards in garison, and, hard thereby, lies* a little town just on the se»- 
sidt;. Wtor you go into the foit, cftrry yofiMlf' courteously tdw^rde 


the W9tch» pfommng it reward; there yoa ihall lee a fort io stroagi 
a$ is not safficiently to be expressed. In the same, are the fairest womea 
by nature, that are in all Italy, being of a most courteous and friendly 
behaviour. From MoUa to Corgliano, an inn, where you must pass 
over a great water, nine miles ; from thence to Alia Bagni, or to the 
Gates, an inn, eight miles ; thence to CastelU, a little town, nine miles; 
from thence to Pozzuolo, a little town on the sea coast (if you will go 
into it, you must leave your swords with the porter in the gate) then to 
^inn, eighteen miles from CastelUi. 

POZZUOLO^ where have been the Baths. 

Pozzuolo is a very ancient town, and, in former times, it hath boen 
a mighty and famous city, but devasted. You may there enquire foe 
one to go with you into the grotto, with a torch, where you shall see 
the Cento Camerelle, in English, the Hundred Chambers, wherein the 
prophetess Sibylla did dwell, and had her command; the same are 
over-grown with a hilK When you go a little further, there is a warm 
water (you must take heed you go not far one from another, lest you 
lose yourselves) ycu must bow yourselves in going, by reason of the 
great heat and ckunps of the baths. Under the same grotto have been 
most excellent baths, fitted for to cure all manner of diseases, and by. 
each one was set a bill, signifying the vertue thereof, according to 
which, every person knew how to rule himself, and bathe therein. 

But, on a time (by reason that the sick and diseased persons had na 
need of the physicians help, but did all of them resort to these baths) 
certain doctors of Salerno, physicians, that dwelt thirty miles from 
Naples, consulted together how to remove the cause that took away 
their gain and profit ; and they went together, and, in secret-wise, did 
take away the bills that were written and set on the baths, insomuch 
that now no man knows the right virtue of them, or what diseases they- 
are good for; and, as the said physicians returned home again, a great 
tempest on the sea overwhelm^ the ships, and they were all drowned*. 
Then go also without, up the hill, where you shall hear a roaring and 
tumbling very fearful to be heard, and there runs the water out so, 
warm, that one may see the eggs therein. Hard by, you shall see the 
fire and smoke come out of the hill, very fearful to behold, much re- 
sembling hell itself, as may be imagined ; there is also a mine of brim- 
stone, and, hard by the same, two terrible stinking holes, which are 
called Muffletti, from whence arises poisoned air, and, therefore, no 
man dare venture to go near thereunto, unless he will endanger his life. 
If a man doth lay a dog, or other beast therein, it dies immediately, 
but cast it presently into the water, hard by the same, and it revives 
in a moment ; which is every day tried by strangers, and found true. 
Then go towards Naples, and you shall come by the way to Virgil's 
grotto, through which you must go, half a mile long; and, when you 
^ ou^ look upwardsi and yuushidl see a mighty grave-ston^ fastened 


into the wall, in which lies Virgil buried; the common saying isi That 
he built that grotto in one night, through the hill, by the help of his 
fiaimliar ghosts. 


When you come into this famous city, enquire for the Black Eagle; 
the host IS a Dutchman, who will appoint one to go about, and shew 
you what is to be seen. First, go to the palace of the viceroy, which is 
a very fair building; without, before the same, do watch, day and 
night, a company of Spanish soldiers ; every evening, they march up 
and down with flying colours. Then go into the palace, and up the 
Stairs, you shall see the Dutch guard-watch; they are one-hundred, 
suited all alike, and are maintained by the viceroy. Then go up into 
the hall on your left, where you shall sec a very fair chapel ; in this 
ball, the viceroy doth give audience every Thuntday. There are won- 
derous fair rooms in this palace, and a most pleasant garden, and, 
therein, a fair tennis-court; out of this garden, the viceroy can go 
secretly into the palace; by reason of which, the strangers are not per- 
mitted to go into it. Not far from the palace, is an exceeding well 
armed bouse of artillery, wherein two-hundred gallies and galleasses 
have room more than sufficient, and may be made in the same. This 
city ordinarily doth maintain, at their own proper costs and charges 
only, to attend the approach of the enemy, two-hundred gallies. 

Then go to Monte Pizze Falcon, a hill, on which there is a fair 
palace, with a delicate pleasant garden ; right over-against which is the 
strong castle and fort, named Ovo; it is also built on a rock where the 
palace doth stand ; but it is cut off from the same, so that the sea 
surrounds the fort, and lies now in the water like an island. Then go 
towards the water-work before the city, named Porro Real, from 
whence all the conduits in the city have their original; it is also led 
into the wells, a thing most worthy to be seen and noted. Then go 
back again towards the Porta Capuan, where is a mighty fair palace, 
which, informer times, was the city's fort, but now the city council is 
kept therein. Therein is also the prison, in which are most commonly 
eight-thousand persons; this palace is called the Vicary. Go ove> 
against the same, into the church, called Johan Carbonar; there the 
French Kings have had their funerals, who, in times past, did govern 
and reign in that kingdom; you shall see exceeding fine epitaphs and 
tombs, adorned with rich stone, and other curious works, so stately, 
as you have not seen the like, also with statues and pictures. 


This is a wonderous fair hospital, wherein are continually a great 
number of sick attended* Every nation is there entertained and 


tcoq>ted ; c«ch one has a clean bed, with all necessaries and attend- 
ance, as if he were at home in his own house, until he recovers, all 
gratis, which is at Rome in St. Spirito. So soon a) one is received, he 
most presently make his confeanion, and then take the commnnion. 
Thereby, is a very fair church and steeple, appertaining to the hos^ 
pital. Then go towards the church St. Clara, built by the French 

Tberein, are many excellent fair altars and tombs. A little further, 
you shall see a very fair monastery, named Monte Oliveto, wherem ara 
wonderous rich epitaphs; all the monks therein are of noble descent, of 
the order of Carthusians. 

Tke principal Palaces in Naples are tkesefoUowing, 

The palace of the Prince of Layena; palace of the Prince of Cala- 
bria ; palace of the Prince of Scala Siciliano ; palace of the Prince of 
Salerno; the palace of the Prince of Bisignano; this excepted, all the 
rest are there always resident. 


This castle is a wonderous fort, built first by the French Kings, lying 
hard by the sea, provided and furnished with mighty great towers, 
bastions, and very fair ordnance, and there lie in garison two-hundred 
Spanish soldiers ; therein are very fair habitations, inhabited with all 
manner of tradesmen. 

When you come into the fort, you shall see, right over-against the 
court, lying a great iron bullet, under an iron gate, which was shut at 
that time, as they refused to yield to the Emperor Charles the Fifth; 
for, although the Spaniards had almost got in the fort, yet, nevertheless, 
the French defended themselves valiantly. When you come into the 
court, you shall see, on your left hand, certain stairs, under which is 
erected a statue #f marble-stone, of a Frenchman, who, on the said 
stairs, with his two-handed sword, killed forty Spaniards, as is con- 
firmed, before they could get up. By this castle, is a lower standing 
in the sea, as in an island, wherein, at that time. Frenchmen lay ; and, 
after the Spaniards had got the fort, they could not overcome this 
tower, until they had granted, that the French, with bag and baggage, 
might, in safety, depart. This fort hath fine mighty towers, strong 
walls, and deep ditches. 

Then go towards the castle Ovo. 


This was also built by the French, and hath the name derived front 
the rock wherepn it stands^ which is like ao egg* which rock is cut off 


from the other that Iks^agpun&tit, Monte Pisze Falcon. This is amighty 
strong fort, and a great defence to the city, furnished with brave ord- 
nance and ammunition ; there lie sixty Spanish soldiers, that contH 
nually dwell therein. Then go over-against thesame,up the hill, when 
is a mighty strong fort, named St. Uelmo; how the same wasboilt^ 
and from whence it hath the origioal^ you shall read as followetlu 

Si. HELMO, a Cattle. 

This hath the original, as touching the building thereof, from the Em- 
peror Charles the Fifth ; for, as he nd on a morning to take the air, he 
came through the street, named Capuana, where the mayor and alder- 
men hare a place railed about, and do therein assemble themselves, and, 
in publick, hold council, named Scdia Capuana. Now, as the Empe- 
ror came thereinto, and saw the arms of the city pictured, and two 
white horses thereby, without bits and bridles, as it were %ing, and 
freely ranging about, the Emperor demanded what they signi^d. An- 
swer was made, that, as free and unbridled, as the horse, were they also 
in the city. Whereupon, the Emperor immediately contrived to build 
this mighty strong fort on the hill, thereby to lay both bit and bridle in 
the horses mouths, thatthey should not run where they listed. For, by 
reason of this fort, the Neapolitans are bridled, that they dare not rise in 
rebellion. This strong fort is so well provided and furnished with am- 
munition and great ordnanoe, and situated, that it is almost invincible, 
unless treachery be amongst themselves. There is not one palace in th« 
dty, that hath not a piece of ordnance aimed thereat from the fort; and, 
if any in the same do but begin to mutiny, it is, in the twinkling of an 
eye, battered down. In this fort, are two^hundredand fifty Spamsh sol- 
diers, which do watch, uid have their dwellmg tbereiiu And, although, 
the city should be gotten and won, yet no enemy could remain tberein, by^ 
reason of this fort, from whence each living creature vroaM be de- 

There is not, in all Italy, a greater pomp in riding, nor fairer horses, 
than in Naples ; and no where so many princes, roarquisses, earls, ba- 
rons, and gentlemen, riding up and down the streets, in bnwe attire, al- 
most the wbi>le day, attended v^th many servants, in fair liveries and 
suits; also an excellent haven on thesea^ where the great ships and gal- 
lies do lie. This city is also provided with all sorts of merchandises^, 
especially silk wares; and there is daily such great dealing, as, in other 
places, in the time of fairs. This famous city is also very groat and 
spacious, always stored with the best and costliest wines, and all other 
necessaries plentifully are to be had. There is one street, named Lagtu* 
deca; therein are above five-hundred shops, furnished with nothing but 
new and old apparel, to be sold. Lastly, this city is strengthened about 
with mighty walls and ramparts. 

Htreafier folUma the way from Naples to Malta^ hyxsaUr and land; but I 
xfoM advise you^ rather to travel by wattr; wotrthekm^l mU daeiU» 
both ways* 


From Naples to Terre del Grechoy six miles ; thence to Barbarona 
▼ilkgey seven miles; thence to Salerno city, nine miles ; thence to Ta^ 
beroA PiDta Inn, ten miles; thence to Benola village, eight miles; 
thence to Duchcsta Inn, nine miles; thence to Coletta a little town, ten 
miles; thence to Salla village, seven milet; thence to Casal Nuova vil« 
lage, nine miles: thence to Rovero Negro village, ten miles ; thence to 
CasteUuchia, a little town, nine miles ; thence to Valle Santo Martino vil« 
lage,six miles; thence toCastoroVil fore, a village, nine miles; from thence 
to Ouiro village, sev^n miles ; thence to Regina Inn, ten miles ; thence 
to Consenxa, a town of great traffick, especially for rough silk, twelve 
auks; thence to Capofreddoy a village, seven miles; thence to Marto- 
laoo, a great hamlet, six miles ; thence to St Biasto, a market-town, 
six miles; thence to Alaque Fiche Inn, seven miles; thence to Monte 
Leone, a little town, nine miles; thence to Sala Petra, a market-town^ 
eight miles; thtnce to Rossa village, seven miles; thence to Santa 
Anna village, nine miles; thence to Fonego, a market-town, nine miles; 
tbcnce to Fiumara de Mori, ten miles; thence to the famous city 


This illostrious city hath an exceeding mat and safe haven, or port, 
of the sea, where may ride more than four-hundred great ships ; thelike 
is scarce to be seen. There is an incomparable traflick by all nations* 
It b a great city, adorned with wonderous fair palaces and buildings* 
Principally this city is strong, round about, with great and mighty vralls 
and ramparts. It hath excellent good wine, and all manner of provi« 
sion throughout. The readiest way is to go by water, from thence to 
Maples, with the first opportunity, and then you may go to Malta, in 
three days. There go, oftentimes, ships to PalermO| which a wonderoui 
ftir and great city, worthy the seeing. 


This city lies hard by the sea, strengthened with substantial walls, 
and hath an excellent haven for ships. It was, a few years past, very 
fairly built and adorned ; when you come into the city, you shall see a 
very long street, called il Cassarc, or la Strada d' Austria ; at the upper 
end of which, ii the Viceroy's palace, in which he keeps his court; it is 
a very stately building, adorned with most excellent fair rooms and gar- 
dens, In this palace do lie Spaniards in garison, as also a guard of 
Switzers. There is also great trading and merchandising, with all sorts 
of wares transported thither from beyond the seas. 

Then you may ga^m thence directly to Malta. 

TOIhXU* 1 



This is a principal aad £unous fort, of great itrengih, and the key of 
all Christendom. 

The principal fort is named St. Helroo; as soon as you come near 
thereunto, certain of the knights will meet and receive you^ and invite 
you to dinner or supper, and, according to the number of your fellow- 
travellers, you shall be well ainl courteously entertained ; when the wea- 
ther is fair and clear, you may see from thence the signal of the common 
enemy. The knights have eight gallies, to be always prepared and in 
readiness. And at such time, as from the fort, a sign is given of the ap- 
proach of any Turkish gallies, then must always the gallies of Malta gg 
out to meet them^ and one galley must always fight against four Turkish 
gallies. FoF the gallies of Malta are excceeding well and strongly pre- 
pared and armed, and are, for the most part, all knights therein, for 
service fitted ; none are spared, when need requires. The fort St. Hd- 
mo is so well fortified, and provided with all manner of ammunition, 
that it is impossible, by the art of man, to be overcome. There are also 
two other forts, St. Angelo, and St. Michael. The island Malta is, in 
circuit, not above seven miles, but a great number of villages are built 
thereupon ; the husbandmen do all dwell along the sea-coast, and must, 
every foot, keep a strong watch, to prevent a sudden invasion of the 
common enemy of Christendom, as oftentimes falls out, and many of 
^m spoiled, and their houses set on fire. As concerning victuals, and 
other necessaries, fit for man's subsistance, there is no waat at all, for 
Ihere is always sufficient transported thither. 

Kow I would advise you to return back again with the gallies to Na* 
pies: But you must go the right way, as from thence to Italy,Luca, Ge- 
noa, Milan, and Venice, lest you come twice to see one place, and there- 
by other memorable things be neglected. When, by God's help, you 
are arrived again at Naples, then you go the nearest way to Capua, an 
ancient city, plentifully provided with all manner of necessaries tor mat; 
it is also of a good length, with a very fair and high stone bridge, like 
to which I have seen none. It lies from Naples sixteen miles ; from 
thence to Carigliano, an inn (here you must go over the water) nine 
miles; and now you are on the former highways again, until you come 
to Rome, and High Siena. At Siena you may have horses to Pisa, 
which is thirty miles; a way to travel so pleasant, that one can judge 
no otherwise, but the whole way to be a most pleasant and delightful 
garden, all full of excellent, fine, fruitful trees, goodly villages, fkh cat* 
Ues, and comely towns. In Summa, it is a paradise. 


When you come to this city, you shall be searched under the gate, (o 
see what you cariy with you. Say nothing, but only that you are stu- 
dents, and put a piece of money into one of dieir handb secietlyi and they 
will let you passt 


This IS a famoas city, and an exceeding strong fort, which was 
yielded to the Great Duke, in the Seneser wars, but. before, it was a free 
state of irsclf, and a republica; also Siena was, but afterwards, being 
overcome by Cosrous, Great Duke of Florence, and brought under his 
yoke, the fort was built to keep them in subjection. There runs also a 
Itreat river through the city, called the Arno, which runs also throo^ 
Flomict; anil' not &r from Pisa, it falls into the sea. There is also a 
wonderful fiur temple (a cathedral) built all of marble stone. 

On the sida is built an exceeding fair cloister of curious work. They 
say It is very like to that built by the temple of Jerusalem. There is also 
a manrellous fair steeple hard by the temple, up to the top of which a 
man may ride on the outside, the stairs winding about the steeple to the 
top, as a snake on a tree. The stairs are adorned with rich marble- 
stone pillars, of all manner of colours, even to the very top. This stee- 
ple is built by mere art, hanging or leaning to the one side, as if it would 
Ml ateveiy twinkling of an eye, but when one is above, he cannot then 
dbcem the same. This steeple is held to be one of the seven wonders of 
the world, being built all of white marble-stone, like to which is none 
seen in the universal world. On the outside of the church is a round 
temple, covered with copper, and the doors with bell-metal. 

This city is graced with many fair palaces and houses, especially the 
palace of the noble knights, in which they have their government. The 
knights do wear, for their order, the red cross of St. Stephen, which the 
Duke of Florence observes. This is provided with all manner of good 
victuals plentifully, especially excellent good wine. 

Hereqfierfollatot the tray to Luca, 

From Pisa to Luca seven miles. When you are gone half way, you 
shall come to a hill, from whence, on the one side, you may see Lucay 
on the other side Pisa, a wonderful pleasant prospect. 


This is a very excellent and fair little city, and situated in the midst 
of the great Duiceof Florence's country ; which city, if the Duke could 
bring nnder his jurisdiction, he would then stile himself King of Tusca- 
ny. There is in this city a great trade with silken wares, the like to 
which is not in all Italy. The Pallavicini are the chiefest dealers there- 
in, as the Fuggeri are in Augustia. Therein arc most exceeding fair pa- 
laces and houses, and the streets paved all with fair square stones; 
there are many fair churches, as St. Martino, and an excellent market, 
where a man may have what his heart can wish for, at a reasonable 
price. There is most excellent wine. It is a very strong city, with 
mighty walls and ramparts, and the ordnance lying round about the 
same, and under the gates are kept a continual strong watch. This city 
is^ubject to none, and is the only free imperial city in all Italy, Then 
jWL rosy go to livomo, which is an excellent haven-town, pertaining 
to the Great Duke of Florence; it is twenty miles from Luca. 

I 2 


Here follows tkt itiay from Luca to Cenana^ and what is to be seen by 

the way. 

From Luca to Mazzarosa, a little town, eight miles; from thence ta 
Pictra banta, a little town, eight miles ; thence to Massacle Corara, a 
pleasant town with a castle, seven miles ; thence to Sarsano, a yerj 
pleasant town, and there, in two strong forts, lying in garison five-hun* 
dred Dutch soldiers (for it lies just on the border of Cenona, pertaining 
thereunto) eight miles ; thence to Laris, where you must pass over water, 
foar miles. 

LARISy a Port. 

This is a very fine little town ; the wine is very good and cheap, and 
also bread. On the top of the hill is a very strong fort, and the ordnance 
thereupon carries over to the other side, to Porto Venere, which is m> 
full Dutch mile; and also, an exceeding strong fort. Go over alto 


This is also a fair town, and on the hill is a strong fort, and the ord- 
nance carries over to the other fort, so that both these forts do assist each 
other ; not far off this, is a town called Spcssa, pertaining to Genoa. 
When they send soldiers into Spain, they do assemble themselves there, 
between Spezza and Laris, is a very strong fort, pertaining to Genoa, call« 
ed Santa Maria del Suorte, about two Italian miles from Porto Venere, 
wherein do lie Dutch soldiers, who, if you desire, will let you in, and 
show you the fort; it is worthy th« seeing, and built but of late years; 
Now I would advise the traveller to go from Laris, by water to Genoa, 
being one day's journey ; but if you go by land, the way is described at 
folio weth : 

From Porto Venere to Remedio, a market-town, seven miles ; thence 
to Forgc'ttu, eight miles ; tlienreto Martarana Inn, six miles; thence to 
Bracco, a market-town, six miles; thence to Rapullo, six miles; thence 
to Ilecco, six mile's ; thence to Bogliasco, all market-towns, lix miles; 
thence to Genoa, six miles. 


This is a fair and famous city and repuhlick, where is a Duke, but 
elected by the senate of the city. When one dies^ they chute ia ang* 


tber, like as they at Venice do chtise a Duke out of forty-eight Claris* 
tiini, and do cast lots for the election, 

Thb w6nderou8 mighty city is older than the city of Rome, as the 
historians do deliver. It is inhabited with brave nobles and gentry, and 
sumptuously built ; you shall see a number of brave miglity ships excel- 
lently furnished with all manner of ammunition and provision. They 
lie here only to attend the approach of the common enemy. 

When you come to the gate of the city, the customers will make 
search* to see what you carry; tell them that you are students, and en« 
qoire for a*lodging, called Santa Maria, where you shall be excellently 
dieted. Enquire for Strada Nova, in which street are twelve most ex- 
cellent fair palaces, built all of square pieces, being white and black 
marble-stone, richly adorned, with pleasant gardens ; and certain of 
tliem have houses of artillery well furnished, and stately antiquities and 
statues. Go first into the Duke's palace, which is an excellent rare 
building, in which do watch continually five* hundred Dutch soldiers, 
and have all their dwelling in the palace. When you go from your 
lodging towards the gate, out of which they go to Savona, hard by the 
same you shall see the }*a1ace of Prince Andrea Doria, general of the 
dukedom of Genoa, where you shall see wonderful rare things, besides 
excellent pleasant gardens, artificial water-works, and brave statues, and, 
principally, a wonderous well furnished house of artillery. You shall 
not find, in any city in all Italy, so many velvet-weavers, as in Genoa; 
they say, there are at least eight-thousand; but not any one of them 
is able to gain to themselves one piece of velvet in a whole yearns space, 
sonarrowly are they looked unto by the merchants. 

Ciurchet in GENOA. 

Within the city walls are thirty parish churches, and the city hath 
seven miles in circuit. There are two principal churches amongst the 
rest; the one named St. Laurence, in which is a little chapel, where are 
kept the ashes of John Badall in a silver chest; and, they affirm, that, 
when there arises a great tempest on the sea, they carry that chest to the 
seashore, and immediately the tempest ceasetb. There are done also 
many miracles, as they say, in the thirty churches, by vertue of the 
holy relicks which are kept there. In the said church of St. Laurence, 
you shall see the dish of Semiraldo, aud other precious stones, which 
our Ssnour Jesus Christ made out of earth, in which, with his disciples, 
he did eat the Easter lamb, which was gotten, as Cassareawas overcome, 
as is clearly noted in the chronicles. 

The other church is named St. Bartholomew, without the gate St. Ca- 
tharitia, where is kept the sudanumf or the sweating cluth ofVUr Blessed 
Saviour, as evidently it is found to be one of the three made by St. Vero* 
nicm ; by the same are done also many miracles. There is also without 
the city a very fair steeple, on the top of which they hang a lanthom 
with lights, in the night time, that directeth the ships safety to the port 
or haven. . . 

I a 


Genoa is as famous a principality, and as fruitful a soil as is in all Ita 
ly ; there is the best wine of all other», and all sortb of excellent fruit.' 
Now, if you desire to see Savona, take a boat; it lies but thirty mile* 
from Genoa. 


This is a very fair city, lying on the sea wonderous pleasant; ida 
built exceeding well and richly, and they have great trading with wines, 
and other costly wares, into Corsica and Sardagna.. There is also a 
nighty fort, built very strongly, with main walb and ramparts, so well 
furnished with ordnance, and other ammunition, that it is almost invin- 
cible. Therein do lie one-hundred Dutch soldiers, and otbar forces; for 
the Turks oftentimes use to make inroads there, with forty or fifty gaU 
lies at a time, attempting to get the fort; but it hath always failed them, 
there being continually kept a strong and diligent watch, which is also 
very needful. Then you may go back again to Genoa, and from thence 
to Milan and Venice. 

Here follows ike waif from Genoa to Milan. 

From Genoa to Ponte Decino seven miles; thence to Buifala seven 
miles; thence to Al Bothodel Forraari seven miles ; thence ta Al Isola 
seven miles; thence to A rgua seven miles; thence to Saravalla, a little 
pretty town, where you may buy excellent good blades, rapiers, and 
swords, five mil«^; thence to Bcttola, an inn, six miles ; from thence to 
Tortona, a strong fort, eight miles; thence to Fonte Curon ^ve miles; 
thence to Pancarina eight miles; thence to Cava, there set over the river 
Poy six miles; thence to Pavia city three miles. 


This city hath an excellent navigable water, which flows hard by, 
med Ticino. The city is very well adorned with hit houses, and churclw 
es, and hath a very large and fair marketplace. There is also a famous 
university, and an inquisition of late years erected ; there are many Je- 
suits. The city is marvellous well strengthened, with great and thick 
walls and ramparts; there is also a strong castle or fort, wherein 
are continually Spanish soldiers. It belongs to the principality of 

When you go from thence towards Milan, you shall see by the way 
a monastery named Carthausa, and also the Park, about an Italian 
mile from Pavia, before which the lamous battle was fought by the Eoif* 
peror Charles the Fifth| against the Freocti and Switaen, and thereliy 


Pkvta ofercoiue* The park, as you mty well discera, hath yet part of 
the «alb staadkig which were at that dme. 


Do not omit to go ia and see this famous monastery, for there is not 
the like in all Italy; richly built, and hatha mighty revenue; the 
church is huilt all of white marble-stone, adorned sumptuously with 
statues and pictures of oriental alabaster. 

The cells of the monks are covered all with copper; there are besides 
thingii to be seen whereat you will wonder. Then go from thence to 
^' a little town, eight miles thence; Milan is ten miles* 


Thit is the chief city in Lombardy, belonging to the King of Spain. 
It is a principality, and round about strengthened with mighty walls 
and ramparts; it hath also great trading with all nations. When you 
come thither, I would wish you lodged at the Three Kings, or at the 
Falcon, where you shaU be exceeding well entertained. Go first to the 
palace, wherein the viceroy or duke keeps his court, which is a veiy 
great building. Hard by the same have the Dutch guard their dwel* 
lings, and are eighty of them attending the duke, all suited in one 
colosr: without this palace is the riding-place, being marvellous 


This temple is built within and without all of white roarble«tono, 
comparable to which in greatness, and fairness, there is none found 
neither in Italy, nor elsewhere; every ounce of this marble stone 
wrought doth cost two quartrins, and five quartrins do make a penny 
English. In this famous building are organs of clear silver. 

Go firom this church to Cardinal Borromeo*s Palace, which is a 
most stately building, adorned with main columns and pillars of marble- 
stone; there is also, by the cardinal, made a gallery under ground, 
through which he can go, not seen, into the church. Then enquire for 
the place where formerly male&ctors were executed ; there did stand a 
house of good fellowship or baudy-house, but the cardinal caused it to 
be pulled down, and m the place a great prison to be built. Then 
enquire for Santa IVlaria, which is an admirable fair building ; thither 
aie many great pilgrimages accomplished with great devotion, and 
lado^entia pienana the whole year throughout. When you go towards 
yoor k^pogi you thidl see an antiquity in Su Laarence*sUeet, wheie 

X 4 


do stand twenty mighty great pillan of white roarble-stone, in hdghC 
sixty feet. They say for certain, that the devil, with his accomplices, 
did erect and builcl that temple in one night; but it had, as it seems, 
no good foundation, for it fell down again shortly after. The whole 
city is paved throughout with fair four-square stone. It hath brave 
broad streets. This city hath twenty-two gates, and doth write itself 
strong; at every gate are twelve-thousand well armed men, besides those 
that are no citizens, and yet inhabitants, which make in one sum two 
hondred-forty-two-thousand. Then go to the Citta della Capello or 


This castle or fort may well be said invincible, and may by no forces 
or man's policy, be gotten or overcome, but only hy mere treachery; 
for there are two several forts in one, but so surrounded and fastened in 
and about with water ditches, that thereout may well be made three 
several forts. It hath also two great, mighty, and high towers, of 
fiiur«quare free-stone, and upon each one are planted three double 
cannons, and upon the walls of the forts are mounted on wheels five- 
hundred great ordnance, of bell-metal* continually charged. There 
lie in garison seven*hundred Spaniards, with forty Dutch, all attending 
the command of the Castellano or governor; there are also divers other 
people within the fort, so that there are continually therein at least one*, 
thousand persons. 

This fort is always provided with an overplus of all manner of provi« 
sion and ammunition. It cannot be undermined, for a navigable water* 
that runs by the city, doth flow into the ditches, and in the same are 
fresh veins of well-water continually springing up. Also is this fort of 
late years better strengthened, by the building of five mighty ramparts; 
BO that it is a fort strong beyond imagination; in fine, I cannot sufficiently 
express the strength thereof. * 

Here folhrne the way from Milan to Venice; and what is to be eeen by 

the way. 

From Milan to Margiano ten miles; thence to Lodia, a pleasant 
town, ten miles; thence to Zorlesco, a village, ten miles; thence to 
I^zzighiton two miles; thence to Cremona, a great city,^ twelve 


This is a famous and pleasant city, adorned with fair and strong 
towers round about. It hath very fair and larg^ streetSy and iinipe 
boildingSi and excellent good wine. 


tnm Cremoimf to Alia Casa delta buona Voglio inn, ten roiki; 
thoice to St. Jacob Alopio inOf nine miles; thence to Mercari, a little 
town^ twelve miles; thence to Castelluchio, eight miles; thence to 
Mantua city, ten miles. 


This b a tnarvelloas fine city, and principality, wherein the Duke of 
Mantua keeps his court; it is excellent well built, all in morass or 
quagmires; when you come thither, lodge at the Black Moor, where 
you shall have one to shew you what is to be seen. 

Go first into the Duke*s Palace, but you must leave your weapons with 
the watch, under the gate ; if the duke be not there, you shall see tiie 
great hall, and other rooms that are most worthy the noting, and also a 
most pleasant, adorned garden, in which is a great spacious hall, 
wherein the duke doth dine and sup in supper*time« This ball is made 
so artificially that, when two, staniding in the midst of the hall, do talk 
one with another, they themselves do not understand their own words, 
but they that stand far from them, at the end of the hall, do hear and 
understand, plainly, every word, which is a thing to be much wondered 
at. One that knows not of this, may perchance talk with another, 
thinking in secret, what is heard of others, perhaps, to his great pre- 
judice. This hall lies encompassed round about with quagmires, so 
that it IS not easily to be overcome by any siege, unless it were for want- 
of victuals. The city is adorned with an exceeding well fumidied 
house of artillery, and great ordnance. 

HerefoUcfWi the XDayfrom Mantua to Padua. 

From Mantua, to Alia Stella Inn, fifteen miles; thence to Sangneto, 
a village, twelve miles ; thence to Montagnano, six miles ; from thence 
to Padua, a great city, thirty-eight miles. 


This is a far spread famous city, by reason of the great fiequence 
and assembling of all nations thereunto, it being an university. There 
is an overplus of all manner of provision for man's use at a very cheap 
rate; there are excellent good wine, bread, fish, fiesh, fowl, and fruit. 
When you come thither, lodge at Alia Stella, the Star ; and there you 
shall see a brave garden, wherein the students do exercise themselves m 
the knowledge of herbs, especially, such as study physick* Upou the 
steeple, you may sea Venice, if the weather be clear. Then go iuto 


the governoi's palace* and into the chanceiy ; you hm 
like in all Italy, for it u a place indeed of antiquities. 

St. ANTHONY, a Momutery. 

This is a wonderous fair monastery, of the Barefoot order: within xL 
is a great temple, where St Anthony lies buried, in so rich a tomb ot 
narble-stone and alabaster, as the like is seldom to be seen. 

Si. JUSTIN J, a Mmutery. 

This is a mighty great monastery, of St. Benedict's order, which wai 
built presently, after the battle was fought and won against the common 
enemy, and the building begun on St. Justina's day ; it hath a great 
jevenue, and every week is distributed, to all poor that come, a great 
proportion of alms, as wine and bread, Uc. 

Si. DOMINICO, a Monmien/, 

This is adorned with exceeding fair tombs, and epitaphs. It hath 
also a stately income, and much is given in alms to the poor eveiy 
week once. In this city are to be seen many excellent &ir palaces and 
buildings, brave statues, and curious rooms^, and pleasant gardens. 
The city belongs to the Venetian state, and is inclosed round about 
with very strong walls and ramparts. 




Qnarto^ eontainuig eight pages. 

< TITHOSOEVER will be saved, before all things, it is necessary 

< VV that he hold the Catholick faith.' 

A good life is of absolute necessity to salvation; but a right belief 
in these points, that have been always controverted in the churchu of 


Oody it id no degree necefaary, much less necessary before all things 
He, that leads a profane or vicious life, sins against a plain acknow- 
ledged rule, and the express unquestioned words and letter of the divine 
law» and the dictates of natural conscience; he wilfully refuses to 
advert to these monitors, and, therefore, can no way jpalliate or excuse 
his wickedness. But he that errs in a question of faitb, after having 
used reasonable diligence to be rightly informed, is in no finult at aUs 
bis error is pure ignorance: Not a culpable ignorance; for how caa 
it be culpable, not to know thatt of which a man is ignorant, after a 
diligent and impartial inquiry ? 

* Which faith, except a man keep whole and undefiled, without 
doubt he shall perish everlastingly/ 

By keeping this faith whole and undefiled, must be meant, if any 
thing be meant, that a man should believe and profess it, without 
adding to itf or taking from it. If we take from it, we do not keep it 
whole; if we add au^t to it, we do not keep it undefiled ; and either 
way we shall perish everlastingly. 

first, for adding. What if an honest plain man, because he is a 
Christian and a Protestant, should think it necessary to add this article 
to the Athanasian creed: * I believe the holy scriptures of the Old and 
Mew Testaments, to be a divine, infallible, and compleat rule, both 
lor fiuth and manners?' 1 hope no protestant would think a man should 
be damned for such addition. And, if sq, then this creed of Athanasius 
is at least an unnecessary rule of faith. 

Then, for taking aught from this creed ; the whole Greek churck 
(diffused through so many provinces) rejects, as heretical, that period 
of it, *The Holy Ghost is of the Father, and of the Son;' contending, 
that the holy spirit is from the Father only. Which, also, they clearly 
and demonstratively prove, as we shall see in its proper place. And, 
for the menace here of Athanasius, that they shall perish everlastingly, 
they laugh at it, and say, He was drunk when he made this cr^, 
Gennad. SchoL A. Bp. of Constantinople, 

'And the CathoUck faith is this.* 

Catholick faith is as much as to say in plain English, the faith of the 
whole church. Mow in what age was this, which here follows, the 
£uth of the whole church ? Mot in the age of Athanasius himself; 
who for thisfiuth, and for seditious practices, was banished from Ales* 
andria in Egypt, where he was bishop, no less than four times; whereof 
the first was by Constantine the Great. He was also condemned in hit 
own life time by six councils, as an heretick and seditious person. Of 
these councils, that at Milan consisted of three-hundred bishops; and 
that at Ariminum of five-hundred and fifty, the greatest convention of 
bishops that ever was. This consent of the churches of God, againsi 
him and his doctrine, occasioned that famous proverb, ' Athanissius 
agiunst all the world, and all the world against Athanasius.* 

for the times before and after, the curious reader may see Chr. 
Sandins*8 Ecclesiastical History; in which the learned author gives a 
large account, by that, and whose means, the Athanasian and Trini* 
tarian faith did at length prevail, against the antient belief of but one 
Gody or but one who is God. TherefiDfei qusre, With what forehead. 


Ihe ftutfaor of this creed cftlls thiff, the Cathollck faith, or, fiuth 
of the whole church? When it is certain, it has been to in no age, 
and least of all in the au thorns. 

'^ The Catholick faith is thisy That we worship one God in trinttj; 
and, trinity in unity/ 

He means here, that we must so worship the one true God, as to 
remember he is three persons; and so worship the three persons, as to 
bear in mind that they are but one substance, or godhead, or God. 
So the author explains himself in the three next articles, which aro 

* Neither confounding the persons, nor dividing the substance; for 
there is one person of the Father, another of the Son, another of the Holy 
Ghost; but the godhead of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost, is all one/ Therefore, all these articles make indeed but one 
article, which is thb: ' The one true God is three distinct persons; 
ttid three distinct persons (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) are the one 
true God/ 

Plainly, as if a man should say, Peter, James, and John, being three 
persons, are one man ; and one man is these three distinct persons, 
Peter, James, and John. Is it now a ridiculous attempt, as well as m 
barbarous indignity, to go about thus to make asses of all mankind, 
lender pretence of teaching them a creed, and things divine, to despoil 
them of their reason, the image of God, and the character of our nature! 
But let us, in two words, examine the parts of this monstrous proposi- 
tion, as it is laid down in the creed itself, 

' Neither confounding the persons, nor dividing the substance.* 

But how can we not confound the persons, that have, they say, but 
one numerical substance ? And how can we but divide the substance, 
which we find in three distinct divided persons } 

'There is one person of the Father, another of the Son, another of the 
Holy Ghost/ 

Then the Son is not the Father, nor is the Father the Son, nor the 
,Ho]y Ghost either of them. I shall not need lo prove this consequence, 
dot only because it is evident, but because it is acknowledged by the 
Trinitarians. But, if the Father is not the Son, and yet is, by con- 
fession of all, the one true God, then the Son is not the one true God, 
because he is not the Father. The reason is self-evident, for. How can 
the Son be the one true God, if he is not he who is the one true God f 
After the same manner it may be proved, that, on the Athanasian prin- 
ciples, neither the Father, nor Holy Spirit are, or can be God, or the 
One true God; for neither of them is the Son, who is the one true God, 
According to Athanasius, and all Trinitarians. For they all say, the 
IVuher is the one true God, the Son is the one true God, and the Holy 
Ghost is the one true God. Which is a threefold contradiction^ 
because there is but one true God, and one of these persons is not the 
other. But, if it be a contradiction, it is certainly fiilse; for every 
Contradiction, being made up of inconsistencies, destroys itself, and is 
its own confutation* 


* The godhead of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ohott^ 
k all one ; the glory equal, the majesty coctemal/ 

The meaning of the last clause is. That the glory and majesty of tha 
Son and Holy Spirit is equal to the glory and majesty of the Father; 
or, the Son and Holy Spirit are equally glorious and majestical with. 
Gad the Father. 

Therefore I ask, Whether the glory and majesty, with which the Son 
and Spirit are glorious and majestical, be the same in number (that inp 
the very same) with which the Father is glorious and majestical ; or 
only the same for kind and degree? If it be not the same in number, 
then the godhead of the Father, and of the Son, is not, as this creed 
leaches, all one; and they are not one and the same God. For two 
infinite and distinct glories, and majesties, make two Gods, and three 
make three Gods; as every one sees, and, to say true, the Trinitarians 
. themselves confess. It remains therefore that, they say, the glory and 
majesty of the Son and Spirit is the same in number, and not for kind 
and degree only, with that of the Father. But then it follows, that 
the gloiy and majesty of these persons is neither equal nor coetemal. 
Kot equal ; for it is the same, which equals never are. Nor coetemal, 
for this also plainly intimates, that they are distinct; for. How coe* 
temal, if not distinct? Do we say, a thing is coetemal or contem« 
porary with itself? Therefore, this article also doth impugn and destfx»y 
itself* Besides, if the glory and majesty of the three persons be nu- 
merically the same, then so are all their other attributes. From whence 
it follows, that there is not any real difference between the three persons, 
and they are only three several names of God ; which is the heresy of 
the Sabellians. 

In the next place, this creed teaches, that * the Father is incompre- 
hensible, uncreate, eternal, almighty; the Son is incomprehensible, 
uncreate, eternal, almighty; the Holy Spirit is incomprehensible, un- 
create, eternal, almighty. Also, that each of these persons by himself 
is God and Lord ; so that the Father is God, the Son is God, and the 
Holy Ghost is God. Yet there are not three Gods or Lords, nor three 
incomprehensibles, nor three almighties, nor thrae eternals or un- 

Now if, in imitation of this, a man should have a mind to say : 'The 
Father is a person, the Son is a person, and the Holy Ghost is a person ; 
yet not three persons, but one person. I would know, why this were 
not as good grammar and arithmotick, as when Athanasius says, The 
Father is God, the Son is God, and Holy Ghost is God, yet not three 
Gods, but one God. Or, when he says, The Father uncreated, the 
Son uncreated, and the Holy Ghobt uncreated, yet not three uncreated, 
but one uncreated ; and so of the rest ? 

Doth not a man contradict himself, when the term or terms, in his 
negation, are the same with those in his affirmation? If not, then it may 
be true, that, * The Father is a person, the Son is a person, the Holy 
Ghost is a person, yet there are not three persons, but one person.* For 
all the fault here is only this, that, in the last clause, the term person 
is denied to belong to more than one, when, in the first, it had been 
idbrqied of no few« thao three. For the same reason, it must be a con- 


trodiction to say, * The Father is God, the Son is God, and th€ Holj 
Ghost is God, vet there are not three Gods, but one God.' For the 
term God is at least denied to belong to more than one, though, in the 
first clause, it was affirmed of three. Will they say, that in these wordSi 
there are not three Gods, but one God, the term God is not denied to 
belong to more than one, or is not appropriated to one ? If so, then 
there are not three perK>ns, but one person; and again, there are not 
three men, but one man: then I say, these propositions do not deny the 
terms person and man to belong to more than one, or appropriate them 
to one only ; which yet every body confesses they do. 

But here is a numerical, or arithmetical, as well as grammatical 
contradiction. For, in saying, God the Father, God the Son, and God 
the Holy Ghost ; yet not threeGods, but one God : A man first dis* 
linctly numbers three Gods ; and then, in summing them up, brutishly 
says. Not three Gods, but one God. 

To these things it will, perhaps, be answered, that when we sayi 
God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; or thus, the 
Father is God, the Son b God, and the Holy Qhost is God ; the term 
God is used personally. But, when it is said, there ace not three Gods, 
but one God ; the term God is used essentially, and therefore compre- 
hends the whole three persons; so that there is neither a grammatical^ 
nor arithmetical contradiction. But this remedy is worse, if possible, 
than the disease; for it owns that there are three personal Gods, though 
there is but one essential ^od ; and that, otherways, the propositions, 
of which we are speaking, would imply all the aforesaid contradictions. 
This remedy, I say, is worse than the disease; for, 1. Three personal 
Gods, and one essential God, make four Gods, if the essential God be 
not the same with the personal Gods; and, though he is the same with 
them, yet, since they are not the same with one another, but distinct, 
it follows, that there arc three Gods, that is, three personal Gods. 2. It 
introduces two sorts of true Gods, three personal, and one essential. 
But the Christian religion knows and owns but one true and most high 
God, of any sort. And I would know of the I'rinitarians, whether 
they dare say, in express words, there are two sorts of true Gods? 

* For like as we are compelled by the Christian verity, to acknowledge 
every person by himself to be Lord and God, he/ 

By the Christian verity, I suppose is meant, the sacred books which 
contain the Christian religion; that is, the books of the Old and New 
Testaments. But do these books, and does this verity compel us to tho 
acknowledgment of three persons, each of which is, by himself, supreme 
God and Lord, and yet, all of them together, but one God ? Doth, I 
say, the Holy Scripture compel us to this contradictory acknowledg- 
ment? Is there any text acknowledged from scripture, which all tho 
Unitarians, and some or other of the most learned Trinitarians, do not 
easily interpret in such sense, that the unity of God is preserved ; and 
no more than one person, even the God and Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, acknowledged to be God ? See the History of the Unitarians. 
But, if there is no text of scripture, but what is, in the opinion of some 
or other of their own learned men, fairly capable of a sense contrary to 
the faith delivered in this creed, then we are not compelled to acknow- 


ledg^ thn fiuth. And the trruth is, the contest between the Unitarians and 
Trinitarians is not^ is commonly thought,a clash of reason with scripture : 
Batitbeth here, whether,when the Holy Scriptures may be understood as 
teaching only one God, or but one who is God, which agrees with the rest of 
acriptttreiand with natural reason;2wemust,notwithstanding,prefer an inter- 
pvetatioD of it that is absurd, and contrary to itself, to reason, and to the 
xesi of scriptoie^ such as theTrinitariain nterpretation, expressed in this 
Cfsed, appean to be* In a word* the question only is, whethe r we 
d^t to interpret Holy Scripture, when it speaks of God, according to 
reason, or not; that is, like fools, or like wise men ? 

' Tha S<m is of the Father alone, not made, nor created, but be- 

Here, and in the next period, Athanasius is got into his altitudes, or 
profundities, which you will. Here it is, that Uie ignorant think they 
are taught the inmost secrets of theological knowledge; but high and 
kw are not more contrary, than the thingi which are here affirmed ai 
equal truths. 

If die creed-maker had spoke here of the generation of the Son by the 
dtvine power on the Virgin Mary, it would have been true, that * the 
Son » neither made, nor created, but begotten;* but then the first part of 
the article would be folse, * that the son is of the Father alone;' for he^ 
that has a father and a mother, is of bodi. But, since he speaks of the 
(pretended) eternal generation, the latter part of the article is folse, and 
inconsistent with the first part of it. Every novice in grammar or pro* 
per speaking knows, that begotten, when it is distinguished from made 
and created, always supposes two parents, a mother, as well as a father : 
It is theref(»e a contradiction to say, ' the Son is of the Father alone, 
not made, nor created, but begotten ;' for, if he is begotten, he cannot be 
of the Father alone; and, if he is of the Father alone, he is not begotten, 
but either made, or created. 

The Holy Ghost is of the Father, and of the Son, neither made, nar 
createdr nor begotten, but proceeding/ 

The first fault here b, that the Holy Spirit is said to proceed from 
the Father, and from the Son. To which heresy the Greek church 
have ever opposed those clear words, John xv. 26. * When the Comfort- 
er is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the spirit 
of truth, which proceedeth from the Father, he shall testify of me.' 

Secondly, He saith here, that the Holy Ghost is not begotten, but 
proceeding; he adds, shortly after, that ' he, who will be saved, must 
thus think of the Trinity/ Therefore, surely begotten and proceeding 
differ very much, and very clearly; else it is an harsh sentence, that we 
shall be damned, if we do not conceive, besides all other inconceivable 
•uysteries of this creed, that the Holy Ghost is not begptten, but proceeds* 
Yet, after all, it is now confessed by the most learned Trinitarians, that 
begotten and proceeding difier nothing at all; and that it is rightly said, 
* the Son proceeds from the Father, and that the Holy Ghost is generated of 
both,' directly contrary to this creed. It follows, that Athanasius has 
damned the whole world, for not distinguishing, where no distinction can 
be madei at least with any certain^. And, perfaapS| this damning hu« 


mour of his has justly provoked some to write, not S. Adianasiils, but 
drawing the S a little nearer, Sathanasius* 

* So there is one Father, not three Fathers; one Son, not three Sons; 
one Holy Ghost, not three Holy Ghosts/ 

In con&btence with what goes before, he should have said, two Fa^ 
thcrs, two Sons, and three Holy Ghosts, or Spirits. For the second 
Person is the Son of the fint, and the third proceeds (which is nothing 
else biU is generated) from the fint and second; which maiLes two Fa* 
thers, and two Sons ; and all three of them are Holy Spirits; for tbe 
Father is an Holy Spirit, and so is the Son, no less than the third per- 
son* But this is not the first time, in this creed that Athanasius has 
discovered he could not count. 

' In this Trinity, none is afore, or after other; nope is greater, or less 
than another.' 

Tet the Son himself saith, John xiv. S$. * My Father is greater than 
I.* And, for the other clause, ' None is afore, or after other,' it is just 
SIS true, as that there is no difference between afore and after/ I ask. 
Whether the Son doth not, as he is a Son, derive both life and godhead 
from the Father? All Trinitarians agree, he does; grounding themsclvet 
on the Nicene creed, which expresly calls the Son, * God of God, 
Light of Light, very God of very God, begotten, not msule/ But, if the 
Father gave UicSon life and godhead, he must have both, before he could 
communicate or give either of them to the Son, and consequently waa 
before tbe Son was. No effect is so early as its cause ; for, if it were, it 
should not have needed, or had that for its cause. No proposition in 
Euclid is more certain or evident than this. 

' The right faith is, that we believe and confess, that our Lord Jcsua 
Christ, the Son of God, is both God and Man/ 

Then the Lord Christ is two persons ; for, as he is God, he is the se- 
cond person of the (pretended) Trinity ; and, as he is man (a perfect 
roan, as this creed afterwards speaks) he is also a person ; for a rational 
soul, vitally united to an human body, is a person, if there be any 
such thing as a person upon earth: nay, it is the only thing upon earth, 
that is a person. Let the Athanasians, therefore, either say, that the 
Lord Christ is two persons ; which is the heresy of Nestorius, condemned 
in a general council ; or, that he is not a man, contrary to 1 Tim. ii. 5« 
* There is one God, and one mediator between God and man, the man 
Jesus Christ;' or, that he is not God, which is the truth. 

* Who, although he be God and man, yet he is not two, but one 
Christ; one, not by conversion of the godhead into fiesh, but by taking 
of the manhood into God ; one, not by confusion of substance, but by 
unity of person/ 

But, because these words, * One, by taking of the manhood into God, 
not by conversion of the godhead into flesh;' and again, ' One, not by 
confusion of substance, but by unity of person,' cannot readily be un- 
derstood by themselves, therefore the creed-maker explains them, in this 
following article : ' For, as the reasonable soul and flesh is one man, so 
God and man is one Christ.' Tliat is, as a soul, united vitally to a 
body, maketh one person, called man, without confounding the two sub* 
stances of soul and body ; for the soul remains what it was, and so also 
does the body; so God the Son, being united to a reasonable soul and 


body, doth/togedier with them, make one person, called Christ, without 
confounding the substances of the divinity, or humanity; for the divi- 
nity remains, without the least change, what it was, and so doth the hu* 
manity, or reeasonable soul and body. This is the only offer at sense, 
that is to be found in this whole creed; but so far from explicating, that 
it farther perplexes the difficulty of the (pretended) incarnation ; as will 
appear by these two considerations : 

1. In the personal union of a soul with a body, the union is between 
two finite things ; but, in the (pretended) personal union of God to man, 
and man to God, the union is between finite and infinite; which, on the 
principles of the Trinitarians^ is impossible. For we must either sup- 
pose, that finite and infinite are commensurate, that is, equal ; which 
cTery one knows is false ; or that the finite is united but to some part of 
the infinite, and is disjoined from the rest ; which all Trinitarians deny 
and abhor. 

You will say, if they admit neither of these, how do they shew the 
possibility of the incarnation, or union of God and man? They tell you, 
God indeed is infinite, and every reasonable soul and body, even that of 
Christ, is finite; yet the whole God and whole man arc united; be- 
cause, as the whole eternity of God doth co-exist to a moment of time, 
so the whole immensity of God is in every mathematical point of space. 
The very truth is, they cannot otherwise defend the incarnation, ot 
personal union of an infinite God to a finite man ; but, withal, it must be 
owned, that then the doctiines of the 1 nnity and incarnation do infer, 
imply, and suppose all the contradictions, that Mr. Johnson has object* 
ed to the doctrine of transubstantiation, in that little golden tract so de- 
servedly esteemed by all. His whole book and all his demonstrations 
arc founded on thc^ two suppositions: That a longer time doth not 
all of it co-exist to a shorter ; nor is a greater extension constipated or 
contained in a less; much less in a mathematical point. Therefore all 
his book, and all that he hath so well said and argued, in the preface^ 
concerning the authority and judicature of reason in m^itters of religion, 
equally and effectually destroys the doctrines of the Trinity and transub- 
stxmtiation. If the reader would have an excellent book, let him pro- 
cure that. But oh ! were the press as free for the Unitarians, as it is for 
other Protestants, how easily would they make it appeac, that the follies 
and contradictions, so justly charged on the transubstantiation, are nei- 
ther, for number, consequence, nor clearness, any way comparable to 
those implied in the Athanasian creed! And that the Trinity hath the 
same, and no other foundation with the transubstantiation I So that we 
must of necessity admit both, or neither. U the Church is to interpret 
Scripture for u% we must admit both ; but, if reason, we can admit 
neither ; and this, I think, the Trinitarians will not deny. 

But, secondly, in the pretended incarnation or union of God with 
man, the union cannot be personal, as it is between the soul and body ; 
i cannot, I mean, be such an union, as to make but one person The 
union of the soul and body may be properly personal, that is, may con* 
stitute or make one person, because it is not the union of two persons, 
but only of one person, the soul, to a thing otherwise without life, rea- 
son, memory, or free-will. The body is but, as it were, the garmont of 

▼OK. XII. K 

lU BRtfcF NOTES, &c. 

the soul, and vi #hoIl j acted by it, and depending oo it. Bat, in the 
(pretended) union of God with a man, there are two distinct and verj 
difierent lives, rarmories, reasons, and free-wills; which utlerty destroys 
a personal union ; for that supposes but one life, one reason, one roe- 
mory, one free-will For, if these things, which constitute a person, 
are found more than once, there is no longtr one person, but two^ 
and consequently no personal union, in the sense of which we ara 

* This is the Catholick faith ; which except a man berieve faithfully, 
ha cannot be saved/ 

By believing, Athanasius iloth not mean bare believing, but he in- 
cludeth therein profession; for he saith a Kttlc before: 'The right faith 
is, that we believe aixi confess, kc/ So that a man cannot be saved, 
unless he believes and professes, as this creed directs him. 

First, For believing. What if a man caimot believe it? Are 
vre obliged* under the penalty of the loss of salvation, to believe 
it, whether we can, or no ? Doth God require of any man an im« 
possible condition, in order to salvation ? 

Secondly, As to professing, under pain of damnation. What if it 

fess, or be damned, then God requires some men to sin in order to their 
salvation. But this we are sure is false, and therefore that the mcnaca 
in the article is vain. 

And now I appeal to all men, that have any freedom of judgment 
remaining : Whether this creed is fit to be retained in any Christian, 
much less protestant and reformed church? Sin^re it subverts the 
foundations, not only of Christianity, but of all religion, that is to say, 
reason and revelation: there being no principle in reason and in scripture 
more evident, than that'God is one;' or, that there is one Almighty, 
only wise and good person, or father of all. If we cannot be sure of 
this, then religion and Christianity are built upon fancy only, and ha\e 
no solid foundation. 

This creed may be professed by the Roman political church, because 
It gives countenance to their absurd transubstantiation, and cunning 
traditions added to scripture; as those doctrines do to the gaining of 
veneration, and consequently dominion and richrs to their clergy. 
But, in a reformed church, where ihe scripture is held to be a corn- 
pleat rule of faith and manners, and also to be clear and plain in all 
things necessary to salvation, even to the meanest understanding, that 
reads it or hears it with sobriety and attention ; such a confession of faith 
is, 1 think, intolerable, as being utterly inconsistent with those princi- 
ples, and reducing us back to the Roman bondage. 

Besides, nothing has been or is more scandalous to Jews and Ma- 
hometans, than this creed, the chief article of whose religion is, that 
there is* one only God.' The evidence of which principle is such in 
nature as well as scripture, that it has propagated Mahometism among 
greater numbers, than at this day own Christianity ; for the sake of 


that one fnAf lo many nations have swallowed all the errors and follies 
of the Alchoran, or that of Mabonaet; as, on the other hand, Chris* 
tianity has been rejected and detested among them, on the account of 
the Christians * three persons, who are severally and each of them 

But the mischief of this creed do not stay here. It is levelled not 
only against the true faith, but is also destructive of that love and 
charity, which is the spirit and life of Christianity; and, without which, 
faith b but a lifeless body. For, as if it would effectually inspire all 
its believers, with a spirit of judging, damning, and uncharitableness; 
it pronounces the sentence uf eternal damnation, in the beginning, 
middle, and conclusion, upon all that do not both believe and profess 
this faith, and keep it whole and undefiled ; that is, upon the whole 
Greek church, and other churches in the East; and upon at least five 
parts of six of all that profess Christianity in the world, whose under- 
standings cannot possibly reach to the sense and coherence, which some 
pretend to find in this creed. 

Thus the Christian rt* ligion is destroyed, in both the essential parts 
of it, faith and love. Hence have proceeded many and endless contro- 
versies, bitter animosities, cruel peisecutions, wars among Christians; 
and, at length, (he more fierce and violent, the more deceitful and 
sophistical part, have attained their tyrannical domination over their 
opposers; and have introduced and settled, a Christianity shall I call 
it, or, a superstition, or a polity, quite contrary to the doctrine and 
practice of our Blessed Lord, and of his apostles. 


Imprynted «t London, in Paalet Chorcbe Tmrde, at the Sygne of the Lambe, by 
Abraham Uele. In Bkek Lettar, Quarto, containinf fbnrteen Fagta. 

THIS is the parlyamentofByrdes, . 
For hyc and lowe, and them amyddes, 
To ordayne a meane, how it is best 
To ke|)e amonge them pease and rest; 
For much noyse is on euery syde 
Agaynst thebauke so full of pryde: 
Therfbre they shall in bylles brynge 
Theyr complayntes to the egle, thcyr kynge, 
And, by the Kynge in parly amcnt, 
Shall be sette in lefall iudgement. 



The Grype. The great grype was the fyrrt that spake. 
And sayd : Owne is on ne, who can it take ? 
For thyne and myne make much debate^ 
With great and small, in eucry estate. 

The Cuckowe, 1 syuge, sayde the cuckowe, euer one 
That the weake taketh cucr the wronge ; 
For he, that hathe wyth vs moost myght, 
Taketh his wyll, as reason is, ryght. 

The Fawcon, Then aunswered thefawcon to that saw: 
That pleaseth a pry nee is iust and lawe; 
And lie that can no songe but one, 
Whan he hathe songe, his wytte is gpne. 

The Commyns, Than all the byrdes, that coude speake, 
Sayde: the hauke doth vs great wreake ; 
Of them so many diucrs there be, 
That no foule, ne byrde, may fro them flye. 

The Hauke, The hauke aunswcred the prating pyei 
Where is many wordes, the trouthe gocth by; 
And better it were to seace of language sone. 
Than spcake, and repent whan thou hast done* 

The Sterlt/nge, Then sayde the stcrlynge verement: 
Who sayth soth shalbe shcnt ; 
No man may now speake of troutho. 
But his head be broke; and that is routhe. 

The Hauke. The hauke swore* by his head of gray. 
All sothes be not for to say; 
It is better some be left by reason, 
Than trouthe to be spoken out of season. 

The Popyn laye, 1 hen spake the popyu iaye of Paradise : 
Who sayth ly tell, he is wyse : 
For ly tell money is soone spende. 
And fcwe wordes are soonc amende* 

The Hauke, The hauke bad, for dreade of payne, 
Spcake not to muchc of thy souerayne; 
For, who that will forge talcs newe, 
Whan he weneth iecst, this tale may he rewe. 

The Comrnym, Then desyred great and small 
To mewc the hauke for good and all : 
A place alone wc would he had, 
For his counscll to vs was neuer glad. 

The Hauke. The hauke aunswered : Ye fayle, ya fayle aR 
It is no tyme to mewc haukcs yet ; 
Commyns of haukes can but lytell skyll, 
They shall not rule tliem as they wyll. 

The Nyghtyngale. Anonc than syngc the nyghtyngale^ 
With notes many, great and smale : 
That byrde, that can well speake and synge. 
Shall be chcryshcd with Qucne and Kyng* 


Tke Hauke. The hauke aunswered, with great furye : 
The songe is nought, that is not mery ; 
And who so no better synge can, 
Makoth lytcU cherc to any roan. 

The Douue» Than rumbled the douue for her lot: 
Folke may be mery, and synge not; 
And who so hath po good voyce. 
Must make mery with lytell noyse. 

The Hauke. Whant his reason was forth shewed, 
Lerne, quoth the hauke, or ye be lewcd ; 
For the byrde, that can not speake, ne synge, 
Shall to the kechyne to serue the Kynge. 

The Fesaunt. Than crowed the fcsaunt in the wood : 
Domme med, he sayde, getteth lytell good ; 
Wodde, nor water, nor other foode; 
It fleteth from hyro, .as doeth the flodde. 

The Baujce. The hauke sayde: Whan all is sought, 
Great crowers were neuer ought; 
For, 1 swerc by ray foly. 
He is not moste wyse, that is moste ioly. 

The Moore Cocke. Than crowed agayne the moore cocke: 
The hauke bringeth much thing out of nocke ; 
The osyll whysteleth, and byrdes blacke; 
He must haue a do, Ihat a do doth make. 

The Hauke. I must, sayde the hauke, by all my belles. 
Say for my selfc, for none will elles; 
Pie is not greatly to reprcue* 
Thatspeaketh with hissoueraynesleue* 

The Hjfttur. Than blusshed the byttur iii the fenne, 
The cote, the dobchicke, and the water henne : 
The hauke |hat doeth vs all this dere. 
We woulde he were soused in the my re. 

The Hauke. The hauke sayde : Wysshers want wyU, 
Whether they speake loude, or styll ; 
Whan all this done was sayde and lafte^ 
Euery man must lyue by his crafte. 

The Malarde. Than creked the malards and the gosc: 
They may best flye that are lose ; 
He is well that is at large, 
That nedeth not the Kynges great charge. 

The Hauke. The hauke sayde: though they fle lose, 
They must obeye, they may not chose ; 
Who hath a maister, or a make. 
He is tyed by the stake. 

The Heronne. Than creked the heronnc and the crane : 
Great trouble make wittes lame; 
He is well aduysed, that can here hym lowe. 
And suflfcr euery wynde to ouerblowe. 

The Hauke. The hauke sayde : Who can blowe to please? 
Longe neckcs done great ease ; 



For the commyns, that hath no rest, 
Meneth not euer with the beSt. 

The Partrychcy Quaylc^ and Larkct The partryche, quajle, 
and larke in ticide 
Sayde : Her may not auayle but spere and shelde ; 
The hauke wiih vg maketh gR*at batayle, 
In euery countrey, where he may auayle. 

The Hauke. The hauke sayde ; Who so wylfully wyll fyght. 
Nay make hym wronge sonc of his rygbt ; 
La we is best, 1 vnderstande. 
To ryght all in eucry lande* 

The Robifn andjhe Wrenne. Than chydde the n)byn and th« 
And all small byrdes that beare penne : 
Against the hauko the commyns must aryse. 
And helpe them selfe in theyr best wyse. 

The nauke. The hauke made the wreune his answer. 
Small power may lytle dere, 
And who wyll lyue in rest longe, 
Maye nat be besy with his tonge. 

The Commyns, Than prayed all the commyn housC| 
That some myght the hauke souce, 
For foule ne byrde, by water ne lande. 
He wyll leaue a lyue, and he myght stande ; 
In bis nesty may none abyde 
In countre where he doth glyde; 
Theyr fethers he plucfceth many a folde, 
And leaueth them naked in full grt'at colde; 
IVe think, therfore, by reason good, 
To destroy the hauke, and all hjs bloode. 

The Kynge and his hordes. The Kyngc and his lordes 
answered, anone 
States niay not the hauke forgone, 
Nor by no law his kynde destroy e, 
Nor deme him selfe for to dye. 
Nor put him to pone other distressc, 
But kepo him in a pay re of icssp, 
That he fie nat to no byrde about, 
But his kcper let hym outc. 

The Cornysshe-daw. Then said the cornisshc'daw, 
Lytje money, lytle lawe. 
For here is nought els with frende ne fo, 
But go bet peny, go bet, go. 

7'Af Hauke, 1 hou rornibshe, quod the hauke, by thy wyll, 
Say well, or holde the sty II ; 
Thou hast harde of many a man, 
A tonge breaketh bone, and it sejfe ha^h none* 

The Kyngep Than answered the Kynge, and the byrdes by 
Why pometh not to the parljrament the crowe ? 


Tot good counsel! refourmeth euery mysse. 
And it botokeneth where it is. 

The Hauke, The bauke saydo, It is nat lesse, 
Councell is good in warre and pese; 
But the crowe hath no brayne 
For to gyuc counsell, but of the rayne. 

The Nighiwhale. Then sayd the nightwhale, with his heed 

He shameth vs with his parlyamcntaray ; 
It is a tcarme with lohn and lacke, 
Broked sicuc draweth arme a backe. 

The Hauke, The hauke sayde. He shall thryue full late 
That loketh to kepe a great estate. 
And can nat, wyth all his wysedome, 
Gettehym selfe an hole gowne. 

The Pecocke and the Swanne. Then sayde the pecocke and 
the swanne, 
Who no good hath, no good canne^ 
And lytle is his wytte set by. 
That hath not to beare out company. 

The Hauke. The hauke sayd. He is worse than wood, 
That roaketh hym frcsshe with other mennes good. 
Or ought wyll borowc and ncuer paye. 
Or with wrong getteth gatlaunt araye. 

The Specke, Then in his hole, sayd the specke, 
I would the hauke brake his necke. 
Or brought vnto some myscheuous dale. 
For of euery byrde he telleth a tale* 

The Hauke. The hauke sayd, though thy castell be in 
the tree, 
Buylde not aboue thy degree; 
For who so heweth ouer hye, 
The chippes wyll fall in his eye* 

The Kynge. Then sayd the Kynge, It is ourentenly 
To amande the crowee rayraent ; 
And all the byrdcs suyde, anone 
Of echeof our fcthert he shall haue one. 

The Hauke. The hauke sayde. He may tone come to 
That euery man helpeth in his posite ; 
For, as teacheth ys the learned clerke. 
Many handes makcth lyght werke. 

The Tyt^re. 1 say, sayde the tytyffre, wc Keotyashe men, 
We may not geue the crowe a pennc, 
For, with them that are sobre and good, 
A byrde iu hande is worth two in the wood* 

The Hauke. The hauke sayde, I take me to my credc. 
Who so will spende wit you he may spede; 
Lytle ye gyue, but he wote why, 
Ye make the biynde eate many a flye* 

K 4 


The Crtme. Than the crowe was put in bis araye, 
I am not nowcas I was yesterdaye ; 
I am able, without offence, 
To speake in the Kynges presence. 

The Hauke. The hauke say de to the commons, By dene, 
Enuy and pride would fayne be sene; 
He is Worthy none audience to hauc, 
That can not say but knaue, knaue. 

The Commyns. Than asked the byrdes, by aduysemcnt, 
Who is that taketh to vs no tent. 
He prcsumelh before vs all to flc, 
To the Kynges hyghe Maieste. 

The Hauke, The hauke answered to the white semewe, 
It is the sory blacke crowe. 
And for him fareth no man the better, 
Let him crowe therfore neuer the greater. 

The hordes. Then sayde the Lordes euerychone, 
We wyll aske of the Kynge abone, 
That eucry byrde shall resume 
Agayne his fether, and his plume. 
And make the crowe agayne a knaue. 
For he, that nought hath, nought shall haue. 

The Hauke. Then saydc the hauke, as some sayne, 
fiorowed ware wyll home agayne. 
And who will herkcn what eucry man dose, 
Maye goe helpe to sho the gose. 

The Cormoraunte, For the crowe spake the cormoraunte. 
And of his rule made great auannt, 
Suche worship is reason that euery man haue, 
As the Kynges highnes vouchsuue. 

The Hauke. It is sothc, sayde the hauke, that thou doestsay, 
Whan all turneth to sporte and playe. 
Thou mayst leeste speake for the crowes pelfe, 
For all thing loueth that is lyke it selfe. 

The hole Parlyamcnt. Than prayed the hole Parly ament. 
To the Kynge with one assent. 
That euery byrde her fether mygbt 
Take from that proude knyght. 

The Kynge. The Kynge sayde, ye shall leauc haue, 
A knyght should neuer come of a knaue; 
All thynge wyll shew from whence it come, 
Where is his place and his home. 

The Hauke. Now trewly, said the hauke, than 
It is a great comfort to all men. 
Of the Kynges great prosperite. 
Whan the Kynge ruleth well his communally. 

Than was plucked from the crowe anone 
All his fethers by one and by one. 
And laste all blacke in stede of reed. 
And called hym a page of the fyrst heed. 


The HoHkcm Quod the hauke, the crowe is now as he should 

A kynde knaue in his degre. 

And he that weneth no byrde is hym Ijke, 

Whan his fethers are plucked, he may byro go pike. 

The Cofnmj/fu. Than made the Commyos great uoysr. 
And asked of the Lordes wy th one voyce, 
That they would the hauke exyle 
Out of this lande many a myle, 
Neucr to come agay ne hy ther ; 
But the Kynge sent for him thyder: 
Hym to trust we haue no thcson, 
For it is proued in trust is treason ; 
And, sythe ye say, he shall nat dye, 
Fluckeof his hokcs and let hym flye. 

The Lordes. To that, sayde the Lordes, we pretende 
This statute and other to amende; 
So in thisj that ye accorde 
To put all in souerayne Lorde, 

The CommyM, The Commyiis sayde, it b great skyll, 
All thynge to be at the Kynges wyll ; 
And, vnder the hande of his great myght. 
By grace the people to seke iheyr ryght. 

The Hauke. Than sayde the hauke, now to, now fro, 
Thus goeth the worldein well and wo. 

The Kynge. Than sayde the Kynge in his maiestye. 
We wyll disseuer this great semble ; 
He commaunded his chauncelere. 
The best statutes to rede that he myght here : 
Thus the fynal iudgement 
He redde of the byrdes parlyament. 
Whether they be why te or blacke, 
None shall others fethers take ; 
Nor the ravyn pluckethe pecockes tayle, 
To make him fresshe for his auayle. 
For the Commons fethers want. 
For wyth some they be ryght skant. 

The Jaye. Thus sayeth the cosen of the iay, 
That none shall vse others aray, 
Fur who so mounteth wyth egle on hye. 
Shall fayle feth«rs when he would flye. 

Sapiencia. Be nat greedy glede to gader, 
For good fadeth and foules fether. 
And, though thy fether be not gaye, 
Haue none enuye at the swanncs aray. 

Concliident. For, thoughe an astrychc may eat a nayle. 
Wrath wyll plucke him winge and tayle, 
And, yf thou lye in swalowes nest, 
I^etnat slouth in thy fethers rest; 
Betrew as turtyll in thy kynde. 


For lost wyll part as fethm in wynde : 
And he that is a glotnus gull, 
Deth wvll soon hisfeth^rs pull; 
Thoughe thou be as hasty as a wype. 
And thy fcthers slyght rype, • 
Loke thy fethers and wry ting be dene ^ 
What they say and what they mcne. 
For here is none other thynge. 
But fowles, fethersy and wrytynge : 
Thus endeth the byrdes parlyament, 
By theyr Kynges commaundemcnt. 




The Art of Acting. In ImUation of Horaces Art of Poetry. 

MS. Never before Printed. 
Ex Nolo Fictum Carmen. Hor. 


Although I have ventured to call this poera, *The Art of Acting^ in Imi- 
tation of Horace's 'Art of Poetry, yetl must observe, that I have 
rather made a paraphrase on his rules and thoughts, than kept to a 
strict literal imitation of them. I am sensible therefore, I shall be 
highly censured by those who are acquainted with those happy imi- 
tations of this part of Horace, Dr. King's * Art of Cookery/ and Mr. 

B n's ' Art of Politicks.' All I can say to such an objection, is, 

that a more close confinement to the text would not suit my subject, 
which I found was not foreign enough from the original to make it 
by such a method any way entertaining; yet 1 have endeavoured to 
keep as strong an analogy to the sense and manner of Horace as I 
could possibly. Perhaps, this intention of imitating the method of 
Horace has led me into a conduct, which may be imputed to me as 
an unpardonable error, and that negligence in the numberS| which 


will often apt)ear, may not be forgiven on my pleading, that in the ver- 
fification 1 have been often negligent by design. How far I am wrong 
in my judgment in this respect, I willingly submit to those who are ac- 
quainted with the original. 

SHOULD Hogarth, with extravagant conceit, 
Make a strange group of contrast figures meet| 
Beneath a plume that nods with tragic grace 
Limn the quaint drollery of H — psl — ^/s face ; 
Then to that face add Chloe's neck and breast. 
Beauteous as thought eVr form'd, or tongue exprest; 
Amass the properties of motley scenes, 
Of gods, of kings, of devib, and of queens, 
Strike out a form that Nature cannot brag on, 
With crest of Caesar and with tail of dragon. 
Part male, — part female, — devil part, — part God, 
Who could restrain a smile at sight so odd ? 

But, odd as such a figure might appear, 
It is the just resemblance of a play'r. 
Who rashly will depart from Nature^s rule. 
And rather wonder raise, than touch the soul ; 
Whose storms and incoherent actions seem, 
Dke the wild prattlings of a sick man's dream» 
Which, while the fev'rish phrenzy may prevail, 
Flow unconnected, without head or tail. 

Actors and poets have an equal right. 
By bold attempts, our pleasure to excite ; 
New talents still in pointed wit to show. 
And make the stream of humour stronger flow; 
Or in the tender, or the lofty scene, 
Form a new harmony of words and mein ; 
Leave dull theatric precedents of art. 
And with peculiar judgment catch the heart. 
Bold are these liberties that actors claim. 
And great their freedom in pursuit of fame : 
Yet a just licence cannot give pretence, 
To break the steady rules of common sense ; 
To strain the voice and storm with frantic air, 
When * Oedipus appeals in moving pray'r; 
Nor yet a slow soft whining tone assume, 
When t peals of thunder shake the conscious room. 

Some« when grave scenes should rise with awful statc^ 
And all the hcroe be divinely great, 
Studious in vain, exert an idle care. 
To please the eye, or gently sooth the ear : 
In senate or in camp, in joy, or woe, 

* To allusion to these lines in Mr. Dryden's pUy of Oedipus, 
To you, ye gods, I malte my last appeal, ice. 

i CtnspM in the folds of love: I'll trait my doom, 
Attd act my joys, ihouf U ihuoder shaiies Cha room. 


The plume must wave, the voice must sweetly flow : 

High character by length of train be shown, 

And dignity by drawling out the tone. 

Justly the plume may grace an actor's mein, 

And the imperial robe adorn the scene; 

Justly the numbers, flowing o'er the tongue, 

May warble sweet as Philomela's song. 

While vales, and dales, and murmuring streams, which rove. 

Gently mseandring through the flow'ry grove. 

The subject are: — But, if ill-judg'd the choice 

Of pompous dress, and modulated voice, 

The • shape though rich, the voice though soft and clear. 

With all a dull extravagance appear. 

Both sometimes please; but this is not their place ; 

Consult propriety alone for grace. 

Hayman t by scenes our senses can controul 
And with creative power charm the soul ; 
His easy pencil flows with just command. 
And Nature starts obedient to his hand : 
We hear the tinkling rill, we view the trees 
Cast dusky shades, and wave the gentle breeze: 
Here shoots through leafy bow'rs a sunny ray. 
That gilds the grove, and emulates the day : 
There mountain tops look glad ; there vallies sing ; 
And through the landschape blooms eternal spring: 
But what's this art, should he such art perform. 
And join it to the horrors of a storm : 
Where quick fork'd lightnings gleam, loud thunders roar, 
And foaming billows lash the sounding shoar : 
Where driv'n by eddies with impetuous shock^ 
The whirling vessel bulges on a rock ; 
The hopeless sailor rearing high his hand, 
And corpse on corpse ceme rolling on the strand ; 
In storm and landschape we might beauties And, 
But wonder how they came together join'd. 

Art rul'd by Nature must direct the soul. 
And ev'ry gesture, look, and word controul: 

Deceived by specious right, most actors run 
Into the contrast errors they wou'd shun : 
Some, who wouM gaiety or passion show, 
With smart, lisp'd, catch make half-form*d words to flow ; 
Swift rolls of jargon sound, a rapid flood. 
With not one word distinctly understood : 
Thus, lab'ring to avoid a drawling tone, 
An equal impropriety is shown. 
Others, to seem articulate and clear, 
With dull, loud, slow, plain sound fatigue the ear ; 

*The theatrical term for a Roman habit. f A younc Kentleman, a paintar, rerj excellent 

in his art, whose scenes at l)rttry«laiie theatre have alwajs met with the greatest approbatioa 
from the spectators. 


All words, all lines, the same grave cadence keep, 
And drowsy lull insensibly to sleep : 
While these, to prove that they no spirits want. 
Out-bawl Drawcansir in the tragic rant. 
Some few, who fear what critics may explode. 
With plodding pace jog on the beaten road : 
Content in acting just with common sense. 
Ne'er dare to deviate into excellence : 
Who never charm, yet never much offend, 
Who with the merit they began will end. 
But yet a brisker genius of the stage 
Will try all arts, all methods, to engage : 
Buffoonly dress, affect a monstrous tone, 
Strike out the poet's wit, insert his own : 
As sailor, or as clown, as beau, or play'r. 
No matter what, or how, or when, or where. 
Will scenes, will times, will characters confound, 
To hear of false applause the vulgar sound : 
Thus more they err who would their errors hide, 

If they want solid judgment for their guide: 

Near Covent-Garden does a painter live. 
Whose pencil can most wond'rous likeness give 

To the soft ringlets of the flowing hair, 

Be they or red, or brown, or black, or fair : 

Nor in this only does his art prevail, 

He h*ts the finger, and the finger's nail : 

YetW the dolt how wretched is the case ? 

Who cannot give to half the picture grace, 

Nor touch a single feature of the face. 

Rather than act as such a man would paint. 

Some trifling parts by meer luck represent ; 

But when a strength of genius should appear, 

Still bound to grovel in my narrow sphere, 

I would no more be such than noted be, 

Alike for beauty, and deformity : 

Than have Lothario's manly form and grace, 

Topp*d with the shocking sneer of Clody's face. 
All you who feel a gen'rous thirst of fame. 

And from the stage a just applause would claim. 

From the first moment you commence a play'r. 

And strut at Smithfield or at Southwark £ur, 

Long as you shall a better fortune wait. 

And strolling know variety of fate ; 

Just as the gods direct the chance of things, 

Are this day coblers, and to-morrow king^; 

Your genius try'd, consult the head and heart, 

Dare not at flights ; be equal to your part ; 

Damn'd you may be attempting Wildair's ease. 

When in tho * buffoon doctor you might please: 

* Xbt Mock Doctor. 



Hell to his bosom can true comfort give. 
Him poyson cares^ and devils make him live; 
But this theatric realm, that noble square. 
Shall fall in time, and change from what they are; 
When not a * Burlington shall Jones restore. 
And R — ch and pantomimes shall be no more. 

If such piles perish, and such realms decay. 
The modes of acting change as well as they. 

As acting is to represent mankind. 
Actors new method in each age must find ; 
As fashions vary, or as humours change ; 
Attempt this year what they might last think strange : 
For so the player in esteem is plac'd, 
>Vho hits with most success the reigning taste. ^ 

Be what it will to hit that wins the heart, 
Supposes judgment, and it shews an art. 

To shew old heroes, and make armies fight, 
Gave in Eliza's warlike reign delight; 
Then Shakespear wrote of battles, wars, and kings. 
And sung in noble numbers noble things ; 
From him what deeds have tragic herors done ! 
And on a six foot stage what empires lost and won ! 

Beaumont and Fletcher with great spirit drew 
The gay and genteel character to view ; 
Shew'd how warm youth to gallantry could rove, 
And taught the pleasing dialogue of love; 
Such parts we saw Wilks hit with sprightly ease, 
And, hap'ly catching Nature's foibles, please : 
Here Old field gave an excellence of art. 
Who in these antique scenes cou'd fire the heart: 
l^Icr elegance of judgment made all new. 
That wit e'er spirited, or nature drew. 

Greatly cndow'd with knowledge of mankind, 
Ben t fi»*st the humour of the stage refin'd : 
Gave to the play'rs new plans of comic Mit, 
Which wou'd of great variety admit ; 
Required the actors utmost skill and care, 
For he drew men ; and drew them as they were. 
To represent his characters, must be 
A knowledge of mankind through each degree: 
He left such drama for the modem stage. 
In which, who most excel, in all will most engage. 

Dave'nant I in Opera's gave the tuneful song. 
And to the drama made new arts belong : 

• The Earl of Barlinfton, at his own expenc«, repi^rttd CoTeutpgarden chorcb, which wm bailt 
bj Sir Inigo Jonet, and is reckoned as fine a structure as auy in England. -t Beu Jobs* 

son. t In this account of Sir William Dav'enant I follow theatrical tradition, but casa^t 

reckon him the first who introduced tinging, scenes, and machines on the stage ; for in Bea 
Johuson*s raasqnef tbera is very pompous machinery and scenery describtd, which are oAm 
said by the poet to be the designs and peifonnances of Sir Inigo Jones. 


He first, instead of Arras painted scenes. 
And heroes shuw'd descending in machines; 
Join*d music's power to the actor's art, 
By double charms to captivate the heart : 
But thus to please imperfectly he taught ; 
Dalton * this art to full perfection brought; 
Whose happy skill made Milton's noble strain 
Inspire the soul, and dignify the scene; 
With awe ihe poet's 'ofty sense we hear, 
Then notes with sweetest graces charm the ean 
Now virtue's praise affects the gen'rous mind^ 
Now still new joys by music's aid we find : 
Two great alternate arts our passions move, 
Sway'd with the force of virtue and of love. 

By whom were scenes of Harlequin begun, 
By some French dancer, or our native t Lun ? 
Though they dispute, no connoisseurs can fix : 
i»ome say Lun brought, some say improv'd the tricks j 
But who in mottled coat first charm'd the rout, 
'I'hcatric hist'ry leaves us room to doubt. 
Through all this various drama of the stage. 
In any part whoever wou'd engage. 
To gain applause from judges must excell : 
Tiri wretched to be tolerably well. 

Why as just actors shou'd we those admit^ 
Who will appear in characters unfit? 
In other parts be pleasing as they will, 
Whenc er they fail, they shew their want of skill : 
Why should ihe grcatt*st player not be told, 
Of glaiing faults, and be by sense controul'd? 
lielter it weie by decent hints be taught, 
'i'han one night lose the fame, in five they got* 

A happy genius for low-humour'd farce, 
III wou'd attempt the sound of tragic verse ; 
A motlley tone wou'd break through all the stylc^ 
And dangling, awkward action make us smile. 

Should Nell turn heroine, as Pistol deigns, 
On Buskins J two foot high, to fill the scenes, 
All wou'd, as Jobson's wife had a new change, . 
Pity a metamorphosis so strange : 
But when the little heroe we behold, 
In burlesque pomp, self-confident, and bold^ 
Roll round his goggling eyes with awiul grin, 
And thump his heart, — to show it touch'd within] 

• The gentleman who adapted the masqoe of Comns to the sta^e, and bj a jiidiciotH dlspcr- 
iltwo of thf^ sceoo!*. and some, collections from Milton'* writings, lias given the public one of tlie 
Qoblf St performances that was ever seen on the Enciish Theatre. t Lun, a 6etttioas name 

which lit. R — h assumed on his first performing the character of Harlequin, and which he ha* 
♦ver since rctnioed. % The principal character in the farce< called. The D<rvil lo ^»y, or 

'ihe Wives MeumorpboiTd. 

VOL. XII. h 


Hjs tragi-comic countenance, and strid, 

With hearty laughter shakes our quav'ring side. 

Some, not content their excellence to show. 
Strive to reveal their imperfections loo. 
Confin'd to proper walks wou'd actors be, 
All wou'd appear with more propriety. 
Yet I allow that, in the comic scene, 
Some who excel, excel in tragic strain : 
And some, who justly reach the tragic style, 
In comic scenes as justly make us smile: 
He who, in * Rule a Wife,' can hit the part 
Of idcot folly, must then rou^c the heart, 
Lose in becoming dignity' the fool. 
And prove with tragic grandeur he will rule. 
Nor do th* Othello's of the stage disdain. 
In hum'rous guise, to touch the comic vein, 
To change the heroe for the fat old knight. 
And with Jack FalstafTs drollery delight. 

Fame gives this rule, if we to fame may trust. 
Tragedians only act a Falstaff just : 
In this, indeed, long famous have they been, 
For Ikttcrton was matchless, now is Quin. 

T\s not sufficient to repeat a part 
With proper accent; it must reach the heart: 
The actor to the audience must reveal, ^ 

He has the will, and faculty to feel : 
Mov'd in himself, all others he controuls, 
Commamis their thoughts, and agitates their souls. 

When Cato gives his little senate laws, 
W^hat bosom pants not in his gon'rous cause? 
Butshou'd, while we the character revere, 
Sec the great patriot sink into the pla/r; 
See him look round box, gallery, and pit, 
Nor the least seeming thought of Rome admit; 
Who wou'd not laugh to think that this survey 
^Vas to mark out some friend, as, who shou'd say, 

* Pox o' this stuff — Let Rome be lost or won, 

• We'll drink our bottle when the play is done/ 

All actors are to seem what they are not; 
Which to perform, themselves must be forgot : 
Their mind must lost in character be shown, 
Nor once betray a passion of their own ; 
Must to the business of the stage attend. 
And heighth of action with their silence blend: 
Or in the front, aside, or back retir'd, 
Something to do, or seem, is still requir'd : 
This common rule shouM practis'd be by all, 
From Jobson chaunting in the cobler's stall. 
To Csesar thund'ring in the capitol. 



Tis not enough if you can catch the cue, 
A strict attention s to the audience due; 
Gaze not around on them ; they do not pay 
To see you turn spectators, but to play. 
If you are curious, there are other means, 
From the looped curtain, or behind the scenes. 

When in old parts you venture to pursue 1 
A manner of your own, to make them new, > 
Still to the character be strictly true. J 

To act Macheath more merit must yuu bring. 
Than thrill a ballad, and with quaver sing; 
A manly gesture and a sprightly air 
Must with a proper dignity appear; 
The gay mock hcroc must our passions move. 
By joy, by courage, in distress, and love. 
Some parts *tis danger to attempt at all, 
When late we've seen a great original; 
We by the first impression are so wrought. 
All copies, though well copy'd, have much fault : 
Nor is this partial prejudice alone; ^ 

The author^! sense to the first actor*s shown : > 
In the full spirit, and becomes his own : j 

Hence, Walker, though we many Macheaths view, 
The standard excellence remains in you. 

Sometimes a poet, studiously absurd, 
Fit for one person only writes each word : 
Or could Miss • Lucy the first night survive. 
Had not each word adapted been for Clive ? 
Lucy, or Lappet, or her fav'rite Nell, 
May copy'd be — she only will excel I. 

bome to the stage unus'd, unskill'd, untaught. 
To charm at first appearance have been brought, 
And, of applause secure, assume a part 
Requires experience and the nicest art ; 
The pompous bill proclaims it o'er and o'er, n 

They ne'er * appcar'd on any stage' before > 

And when they've once appi-ar'd — appear no more. 3 

So have I seen large- letler'd bills proclaim, 
(In red lines France was mark'd, in black the name) 
The celebrated H ■ n was to dance 

His first performance since arriv'd from France : 
— The house was crowded ; — the third act was done ; 
A chorus figur'd entry brought him on: 
1 le came ; — he caper d once ;— and off he run.— 
The pomp so solemn ended in a joke. 
For, ah ! ihe siring that ty'd his breeches broke. 

Vain all the puffs to publick papers sent; 
Vain all the arts cv'n C-bb-r could invent; 

i Mht L«C7 : a cbvacter ia Ui« Virgia UaaMak'4. 




What skill do bills or advertisements lend? 

On merit only must success depend. 

Booth ne'er attempted, in a poQipous way, 

To reach perfcction in his first essay; 

Through many countries had he stroling been, 

Trod many stages, and play'd many a scene, 

Before the British Roscius he became; 

And fix'd, while Britain's stage shall last, his name : 

He knew expcrienc'd truths must gain his cause. 

Nor made smaH fame to follow small applause ; 

Commanding of respect, his step, his look, 

Invited all attention e'rc he spoke : 

>Vith what a majesty he mov'd along? 

How tuneful flow'd the periods of his tongue! 

Inform'd by nature, and improvM by art. 

Speaking, or silent, he won evVy heart, 

Or all admiring listen'd with snrprizc. 

Or on his graceful form they fed their raptur'd eyes; 

The fiction lost, they realized the scene. 

And saw entranc'd a heroe live again. 

Tis baid, as actors on the stage make known 
All others foibles, nor reveal their own, 
Many there are, whoVe sat out many ' play. 
Nor went near the twelfth hour fatigu'd away; 
Who on the stage the players have admir'd. 
Have wish'd to know their humours, when retired : 
They of strange things behind the curtain hear. 
And wonder what those famous green rooms are. 
For fame says many go behind the seems. 
To romp with goddtssrs, and joke with queens. 
With half-druivk bishops talk of smutty things, 
Bow'd to by cmpVors, and shook handK by kinps. 

There scenes conccal'd from common light arise, ^ 
Whose humour pleases, and whose themes surprise : 
In art according to their rank you find 
Various behaviour, and as various mind ; 
All with peculiar oddities engage, 
From him who sweeps, to him who roles the stage. 

These, Muse, relate : — But why this sudden pause, 
VersM in their arts, their humours, and their laws? 
When what to think and what to say I know, 
Why will notev'n prosaic numbei*s flow? 
—Some God indulgent twitches by the ear. 
And kindly whispers, — * Too rash bard, forbear; 

* Enough hast thou traduc'd Horatian rules, 

* Indulging fancy, and describing fools ; 

* In imitation should your verse succeed, 

* When such the subject, who the verse will read? 

* What publick benefit will it impart 

* To know a player's humour, or his art? 


' — Humour be what it will, if just, is lo/d — , 

* E're you write more sec what you've wrote appro v'd ; 

* Then of ih.' stage the various theme prolong, 

* Or wisely here forever close your song/ 


The very Pattern of a valiant, noble, and faithful Subject, 

Encountering with Julius Caesar, at his first Coming into this Island, 
was by him Death-wounded ; yet neverlhelesi he got Caesar b Sword, 
put him to Flight, slew therewith LAbienus, a tribune of the Romans, 
endured Fight till his Countrymen won the Battle, died fifteen Days 
after. And now encouragelh all good Subjects to defend their 
Country from the Power of foreign and usurping Enemies. 

About the Year before Christ, 52. 

I MAY, by right, some later writers blame 
Of stones old, as rude, or negligent; 
Or else I may them well unlearned name. 
Or heedless, in those things about they went : 
Some time on me as well they might have spent. 
As on such traitors, tyrants, harlots, those. 
Which, to their countries, were the deadliest foes. 

Me, for myself, I would not th's recite, 
Although I have occasion good thereto; 

But sure, methinks, it is too great despite. 
These men to others, and their countries, do : 
For there are Britons, neither one or two, 

Whose names in stories scarcely once appear. 

And yet their lives examples worthy were. 

Tis worthy praise, I grant, to write the ends 
Of vicious men, and teach the like beware : 

For what hath he of virtue, that commends 
Such persons lewd, as nought of virtues care? 
But for to leave out those piaise-worthy a^ 




Is like as if a man had not the skill 

To praise the good, but discommend the ill. 

I crave no praise, although myself deseiVd 
As great a laud, as any Briton yore : 

But I would have it told how well I serv'd 

My prince and country, faith to both I bore; 
All noble heat :s hereby, with courage more, 

May both their foreign foes in fight withstand. 

And of their enemies have the upper hand. 

Again, to shew how valiant then we were, 

You Britons good, to move your hearts thereby 

All other nations less in fight to fear, 
And, for your country, rather so to die. 
With valiant, haughty courage, as did I, 

Than live in bondage, service, slavery, thrall 

Of foreign powers, which hate your manhood all ; 

Po give me leave to speak but even a while. 
And mark, and write this story 1 thee tell : 

By north from London, more than fifty mile. 
There lies the Isle of Ely, known full well. 
Wherein my father built a place to dwell ; 

And, for because be liked well the same. 

He gave the place * He Ely bight,' his name. 

Tis nam'd the Isle of Ely, yet, perdy. 
My father nam'd it so ; yet * writers miss, 

Or, if I may be bold to say, they lye 

Of him, which tell that far untruth-like is. 
What truth, I pray you, seems to be in this ? 

He Ely lov'd, a goodly place built there. 

Most it delighted, reign'd not full a year. 

He reigned forty years, as others tell ; 

Which seems, as 'tis a tale, more true by far : 
By justice guid«d he his subjects well. 

And liv'd in peace, without the broib of war : 
His children's noble acts in stories are. 
In vulgar tongue ; but nought is said of me. 
And yet I worthy was, the youn^st of three* 

His eldest son and heir was after King ; 
A noble prince, and he was named Lud ; 

Full politick and wise in every thin?. 

And one that wilTd his country always good : 
8uch uses, customs, statutes he withstood, 

As seem'd to bring the pubiick weal's decay. 

And them abolish'd, broke, repeal'd away. 

* Itfts^aet, 8to!r0, On»ftoo, Flom Historid* 


So he the walk of * Troy the New' rcnew'd, 
InlargM them roadcy with forty tow'rs about; 

Andy at the west-side of the wall, he view'd 
A place for gates, to keep the enemies out : 
There made he prisons for the poor bankrout, 

Kam'd Ludgate, yet the freemen debtors, free 

From hurt, till with their creditors they 'gree. ' 


Some say, the city also took the name 

Of Lud my brother, for he it repaired ; 
And I must needs, as true, confess the same* 

For why ? That time no cost on it he spar'd* 

He still increased and peopled every ward; 
And bade them aye Kaer Lud the city call. 
Or Ludstown ; now you name it London all. 

At length he dy'd, his children under age, 

The elder named was Androgens, 
Committing both unto my brother's charge : 

The younger of thein hightTennancius. 
The Britons, wanting aged rulers thus. 
Chose, for that time, Cassibellane their King, 
My brother justice meant in every thing. 

The Roman then the mighty Caesar fought. 

Against the Galls, and conquered them by might: 

Which done, he stood on shores, where see he mought 
The ocean seas, and Britain cliffs full bright ; 
Quoth he. What region lies there in my sight ? 

Methinks some island in the seas I see, 

Not yet subdu'd, nor vanquish^ yet by me. 

With that they told him, we the Britons were, 

A people stout, and fierce in feats of war* 
Quoth he. The Romans never yet, with fear 

Of nation rude, was daunted off so far ; 

We therefore mind to prove them what they ire ; 
And, therewithal, the letters hither sent, 
By those ambaasage brought, and thus they went : 

C. Julius Casar^ Dictator of Rome^ to CasstbelianCf King of Britain, 

iendeth greeting. 

Since that the Gods have given us all the west, 

As subjects to our Roman empire high ; 
By war, or as it seemed, Jove the best. 

Of whom we Romans came, and chiefly L 

L 4 


Therefore to you, which in the ocean dwell, 
As yet not underneath subjection due, 

We send our letters, gret»ting, were ye well; 
In warlike cases, thus wcdeai with you. 

First that you, as the other regions, pay 
Us tribute yearly, Romans wc require ; 

Then that you will, with all the force you may. 
Withstand our foes, as yours, with sword and fire. 

And thirdly, that by these you pledges send, 

T* assure the covenants, once agreed by you: 
Bo, with your danger less, our wars may end, 
. {llse bid we war ; Cassibelane, adieu. 


Jlo sooner were these Caesar's letters seen. 
But straight the King fur all his nobles sent : 

lie shewed them what their ancestors had been. 
And pray'd them t«l|, in this, their whole intent, 
lie told them whereabout the Romans went, 

And what subjection was, how servile they 

Should be, if Cassar bore their pomp away. 

And all the Britons, even as set on fire, 
(Myself not least inflamed was to fight) 

Did humbly him in joyful wise require, 
That he his letters would to Csesar write. 
And tell him plain, he pass'd not of his spite. 

Wepass'd at little, of the Romans we. 

And less than they of us, if less might be. 

Wherefore, the joyful King again reply'd. 
Through counsel wise of all the nobles had. 

By letters he the Romans hosts defy'd ; 

Which made the Britons haughty hearts full glad. 
No doubt, the Romans more than half were mad. 

To hear his letters written, thus they went. 

Which he a^n to mighty Caesar sent : 

CassibellanCf King of Britain^ ie C. Julm Casar, Dictator^ iendcth 


A% thou, O Caesar, writ*st, the Gods have given to thee 
The West ; so 1 reply. They gave this island me. 
Thou say'st, You Romans, and thyself, of Gods descend; 
Ami infit thou then to spoil our Trojan blood pretend ? 


Again, thouj^h Gods have giv'n thee all the world as thine ; 
That's part(*d from the world, thou get'st no land of mine. 
And since likewise of Gods wc came, a nation free, 
We owe no tribute, aid, or pledge, to Rome or thee. 

Retract thy will, or wage thy war, as likes thee best. 
We arc to fi^ht, and rather, than to friendship pross'd ; 
To save our country from the force of foreign strife, 
Kach Briton here is well content to venture life. 
We fear not of the end, or dan5ers thou dost tell ; 
But use thy pleasure, if thou may'st; thus fare thou well. 


When C«sar had receiv'd his answer so, 

It vex'd him much ; he fully straight decreed 

To wage us war, and work us, Britons, woe: 
Therefore he hasted hitherward with speed ; 
We Britons here prepared ourselves, with heed, 

To meet the Romans, all in warlike wise. 

With all the force and speed we might devise. 

We Britons tlien far deem'd it meeter much, 

To meet him first at th' entry on this land, 
Thau for to give an entry here to such. 

Might, with our victuals, here ourselves withstand. 

Tis better for thy enemy to aband. 
Quite from thy borders, to a stranger soil, 
Than he, at home, thee and thy country spoil. 

Wherefore we met him, at his entry in, 

And pitched our camps directly in his way: 
We minded sure to lose, or else to win 

The praise, before we passed from thence away. 

So when that both the armies were in ray. 
And trumpet's blast on every side was blown, 
Our minds to either each were quickly known. 

W^e joined battle, fiercely both we fought; 

The Romans to enlarge their empire's fame. 
And we, with all the force and might we mought, 
To save our country, and to keep our name. 

(O worthy Britons, learn to do the same) 
We broke the rays of all the Roman host. 
And made the mighty Caesar leave his boast. 

Yet he, the worthiest captain ever was, 

Brought all in ray, and fought again a-ncw } 
His skilful soldiers he could bring to pass 

At once, for why his trainings all they knew* 


No sooner I his noble corps did view, 
But in I broke ainiongst the captain's band, 
And there I fought with Csesar hand to hand. 

God, thou might*st have given a Briton grace, 
T have slain the Roman Caesar noble then ; 

Which sought his blood the Britons to deface, 
And bring, in bondage, valiant worthy men : 
He never should have gone to Rome again, 

To fight with Pompey, or his peers to slay, 

Or else to bring bis country in decay. 

It joy'd my heart to strike on Caesar^s crest, 

Caesar, that there had been none but we ; 

1 often made my sword to try thy breast, 

But Lady Fortune did not look on me. 

1 able was, mcthought, with Caesars three 
To try the case : I made thy heart to quake. 
When on thy crest with mighty strokes I strake. 

The strokes, thou struck'st me, hurt me not at all. 

For why, thy strength ^as nothing in respect; 
But thou hadst bath'd thy sword in poison all, 

Which did my wound not deadly else infect* 
Yet was I, or I parted thence bewreck'd, 
I got thy sword from thee, for all thy fame. 
And made thee fly, for fear to eat the same. 

For, when thy sword was in my target fast, 
I made thee fly, and quickly leave thy hold ; 

Thou never wast, in all thy life, so gast. 
Nor durst again be ever half so bold. 
I made a number of Roman hearts full cold. 

Fight, fight, you noble Britons, now, quoth I, 

We never all will unrevcnged die. 

What, Caesar, though thy praise and mine be odd ? 

Perhaps the stories scarce remember me : 
Though poets all of thee do make a G<»d, 

Such simple fools in making Gods they be. 

Yet, if I might my case have try'd with thee, 
Thou never hadst retum'd to Rome again, 
Nor, of thy faithful friends, been beastly slain. 

A number Britons, raight'st thou there have seen, 
Death-wounded fight, and spoil their spiteful foes : 

Myself, mairo'd, slew and mangled more I ween. 
When I was hurt, than twenty more of those. 
I made the Roman hearts to take their bose : 


In all the camp no Roman scarce I sp/d. 
Durst hall a combate 'gainst a Briton 'bide. 

At length I met a nobleman, they call'd 

Him Labienus, one of Caesar's friends, 
A tribune erst, had many Britons thrall'd: 

Was one of Cassar's legates, forth be sends. 

Well met (quoth 1) I mind to make thee mends. 
For all thy friendship to our country crew : 
And so with Caesar^s sword his friend I slew: 

What need I name you every Briton here, 

As first the King, the nobles all beside. 
Full stout and worthy wights, in war that were. 

As ever erst the stately Romans try'd ; 

We fought so long they durst no longer 'bide. 
Proud Caesar he, for all his brags and boast, 
Flew back to ships, with half his scattered host. 

If he had been a God, as Sots him nam'd, 

He could not of us Britons taken^foil ; 
The monarch Csesar might have been ashamed. 

From such an island, with his ships recoil, 

Or else to fly, and leave behind the spoil : 
But life is sweet, he thought it better fly, 
Than hide amongst us Britons, for to die. 

I had his sword, was named Croceamors, 

With which he gave me in the head a stroke. 
The venom of the which had such a force, 

It able was to pierce the heart of oak, 

No med'cincs might the poison out revoke: 
Wherefore, though scarce he pierced had the skin. 

In fifteen days my brains it rankled in. 

And then too soon (alas ! therefore) I dy'd ; 

I would to God he had rcturnM again, 
So that I might but once the dastard spy'd : 

Before he went, I had the serpent slain. 

He pla/d the coward cut-throat all too plain: 
A beastly serpent's heart that beast detects, 
Which, e're he fight, his sword with bane infects. 

Well then, my death brought Caesar no renown, 
For both 1 got, thereby, eternal fame. 

And eke his sword, to strike his friends adown ; 
1 slew therewith his Labiene by name : 
With prince against my country's foes I came, 

Was wounded, yet did never faint, nor yield. 

Till Cassar with his soldiers fled the field. 


Who would not venture life in such a case? 

Who would not fight at countries whole request ? 
Who would not, meeting Csesar in the place. 

Fight for life, prince, and country with the best ? 

The greatest courage is by facts express'd ; 
Then for thy prince with fortitude, as I, 
And realm's behoof, is praise to live or die. 

Now write my life, when thou hast leisure, and 
Will all thy countrymen to learn by me. 

Both for their prince, and for their native land, 
As valiant, bold, and fearless for to be. 
A pattern plain of fortitude they see: 

To which directly if themselves they frame, 

They shall preserve their country, faith, and fame. 



Explaining the honourable Exercise of Armes, the Vertues of the 
Valiant, and the memorable Attempts of magnanimous Minds; 
pleasant for Gentlemen, not vnseemcly for Magistrates, and most 
profitable for Prentiscs. Compiled by Richard Johnson. 

ImpriDted at London, by Tbomas Orwin, for Hnmfrey Lownes, and are to he 
8uld at his Shop at the West Doore of Paules. 159^. In Black Letter. Quarto, 
containing forty-eight Pages. 

To the Right Honourable Sir William Webbe, Knight, Lord Maior of 
the famous Citic of London, Richard loknson wisheth health, with in- 
crease of honour, 

BEING not altogether (Right Honorable) vnacquainted with the fame 
of this wel goucmcd citie, the heade of our English fiorishing com* 
mon wealth, 1 thought nothing, considering it somewhat touched my 
dutie, could be more acceptable to your honour, then such princi- 
ples as first grounded the same, as well by domesticall policic of peace, 
as forraine excellence in resolution of warre. This caused me to 
collect, from our London gardens, such especiall flowers, that 

• • Vide the STOth Aitkle in the Catalogue of Pamphlets. 


taaonrcd as well in the wrath of winter, as in the pride of sommer, 
keeping one equiuolence at all kinde of seasons : Flowers of chi- 
ualrie, Right Honorable, I meane, some that haue sucked honic 
from the bee, sweetnesse from warre, and were possessed in that high 
place of prudence, wherof your lordship now partaketh. Other 
some that haue beene more infcriour members, and yet haue giuen 
especial ayde to the head, bcene buckler to the best, and therby 
reached to the aspiring toppe of armes: If your lordship shall but 
like of it, proceeding from the barren braine of a poore apprentice, 
that dare not promise moulhils, much lesse mountainc-s, I shall 
thinke this by-exercise, which I vndertooke to expell idlcnesse, a 
worke of worth, whosocuer the gentle cauld kind, that are vrgently 
inkindlcd, shall with ostentation inueigh. These, Right Honor- 
able, the Nine IVvrtkies of London y now vnable to defend themselues, 
seeke their protection vndcr your gracious fauour; and the authour 
pricked on by fame to be patronaged for his willing labour; whereof 
not misdoubting, I humbly commit your honour to the defence of 
beaucn, and the guiderof all iust equalitie. 

Your Lordships, in all humble dutie to be commaunded, 


To the Gentlemen Readers, as xveU Prentices as others. 

ALL is not gold. Gentlemen, that glisters, nor all drossc that makes 
but adarke shew; so should copper some time be currant, and pcarles 
of no price. iEsope, for all his crutchback, had a quick wit. Clean- 
thes, though in the night he caried the watertankard, yet in the day 
would dispute with philosophers. A meane man may look vpon a 
King, and a wren build her nest by an egle. In the games Of Olym- 
pus any man might trie his strength; and, when Apelles liued, others 
were not forbid to paint. So, Gentlemen, though now a dayes many 
great poets flourish, from whose eloquent workes you take both plea- 
sure and profite: yet, I trust, inferiours, whose pens dare not com- 
parewith Apullos, shall not be contemned, or put to silence. Euery 
wcede hath bis vertue, and studious trauaile, though without skill, 
may manifest good will. Vouchsafe then intertainment to this new - 
come guest; his simple truth shewes he is without decry te, and his 
plaine speech proucs he flatters not. He can not boast of art, nor 
clairae the priuiledge of scholasticall cunning; what he sayth is not 
curious, being without any great pnemeditation, or practise, more 
then his necessarie aflaires would permit. If his vnpollished discourses 
may merit the least motion of your good liking, let the c nuious fret, 
and the captious malice melt themselues. Neither the obiection of 
mechanical I, by such as are themselues diabolicall, whose vicious 
basenesse in a selfe conceyte, presuming aboue the best, is in decde 
but the dregges and refuse of the worst, nor the reproch of proucrbiall 


scoifea (as, ' Ne sutor ultra crepidam') shall discorage me from pro? 
cceding to iniient how further to conlent you. And so, trusting to 
my fortune, and ending in my hap, neither dispairing of your cen- 
sures, nor fearing what the maleuolent can inflict* 

Yours to commaund, as be may, 


j1 Catalogue, or briefs Table^ declaring the Names of these voortlik Men, 

and xehtn they lined. 

First, Sir William Walworth, fishmonger, in the time of Richard 

the Second. 
Second, Sir Henrie Pitchard, vintencr, in the time of Edward the 

Third, Sir William Seuenoake, grocer, in the time of Henrie the 

Fourth, Sir Thomas White, marchant tailer, in the time of Quccne 

Fift, Sir John Bonham, mercer, in the time of Edward the First. 
Sixt, Sir Christopher Croker, vintener, in the time of Edward 

the Third. 
Seuenth, Sir lohn Haukwood, marchant-tailer, in the time of 

Edward the Third. 
Eight, Sir Hugh Cauerley, silke-weauer, in the time of Edward 

ihe Third. 
Ninth, Sir Henrie Maleueret, grocer, in the time of Henrie the 


WHAT time Fame began to feather her selfe to flie, and was winged 
with the lasting mcmorie of martiall men, the ora tours ceast 
perswasive orations, the poets neglected the pleasures of their poems, 
and Pallas her self would haue nothing painted vpon her shield but 
mottoes of Mars, and short emblemes in honour of noble atchiuement^. 
'I'hen the ashes of auncient victors, without scruple or disdaine, had 
sepulture in rich and golden monuments ; and they, that reacht the 
height of honour by wurthie deedes, had their former basenesse shadowed 
by deserts. Fame, then fearing that her honour would faint, and her 
armour rust (for, though she fauoured all professions, yet she chiefly 
dignifled armes; on a sodaine, mounted into the ayre, and neuer stayed 
the swifinesse of her flying course, vntill she pitched her feetc upon 
Parnassus forked toppe, whose springing lawrels gaue shade and shelter 
to her wearinesse. This was the fruitfull place where she plotted her 
flowric garlands, to crown the temples of vertuous followers, and 
wreathes of rcnownc to illustrate vudauntcd courages. Here, likewise, 


lemaiaed her chiefe sccretarieft, the ix. Muses, as in a seate of most plea- 
mre best befitting their diuine perfections, whose necessarie aydes she 
alwayes craued, when occasion ininistred any thing worthy record ; 
and, though the wholesome fresh nesse of the ay re, the grecneuess of the 
valleys, the comfortable odours of sundry sorts of flowers, the pride and 
bewtie of the trees, the harmonious layes of nightingales and other 
birds, the variable delights of artificiall bowers, and the musicall mur- 
mures of christall running fountains, might wel have inchaunted the 
roughest cynick, or crabbest malecontent, to cheare vp his spirits, and 
banish melancholy passions; yet this goddesse, pretending businesse of 
importance, had such a care to effect it, as that she would not be ouer^ 
come with pleasure, nor yeeld to ease (though, in reason, her laborious 
trauell did require rest) but painfully passing vp and downe, was not 
moued with the one. nor maistrcd with the other. At last, as her busie 
eye pried euery way, she espied a path of violets, whose tops were 
pressed downe with the steps of such as had lately passed that way ; by 
this, she coniectured the nymphes were not farre off, and, therefore, 
following the tract their fectc had made vpon the flowers, she was quickly 
brought to the head of Hellicon, where, in an arbour of eglantine, and 
damaske rose-trees, one twisted so cunningly within another, as hard it 
was to iudge, whether nature or arte had bestowed most to the bewii Tying 
of that bower. She found the Muses euery one seriously applying their 
seuerall exercises, whom, when they saw (hauing saluted her with a 
dutifuU reuerence) stoodc attentiue (being well assured her comming 
was not without cause) what charge shee would giue, or what shce 
would commaund to be registrcd. To whome Fame, to the intent they 
might not long bee in suspence about her sodaine approch, as well, for 
that her businesse was impatient of delay, as to resolue their earnest 
expectation, spake in this manner : 

You need not muse, gracious nurces of learning, at my presence in 
this place, because 1 vse not oftentimes to visit you, nor trouble your 
minds with ambiguous imaginations concerning my purpose, since I 
seldomc craue your furtherance but for memorable accidents; notwith* 
standing, for the varietie of matter requires not alwayes one forme, and 
still, with process of time, as mens mantrs change, uur method alters, 
3'ou shall perceyue lam not now to begin, but to reuiue what ignorance 
in darknes seemes to shadow, and hatefull obliuion hath almost rubbed 
out of the booke of honour. It is not ot Kinges and mightie potentates, 
but such whose vertues made them great, and whose renowne sprung 
not of the noblenes of their birth, but of the notable towardni'sse of 
their well qualified mindes, aduaunced not with loftie titles, but praysed 
for the triall of their heroycal truthes. Of these must you indite, who, 
though their states were bul meane, yet dooth their worthy prowossc 
match s\iperiours, and therefore haue I named tliem Worthies. Nine 
were they in number, their countrie England, the citie they liued in 
famous London, famous in deede for such men, and yet forgetful to 
celebrate the remembrance of their names, and negligent, I may say, in 
performing the like attempts, hauing, for imitation, such goodly pre- 
«ideQts as these to supplie them that want, with wisdome, and with 


better instruction. I am detcrniined to discourse againe what I haue 
often bruted, thereby to stirre vp sluggards, and to glue secure world- 
lings to vnJerstande (who ext(*nd no further th^n for wealth, and whose 
hearts suppose a heapc of coine the greatest happines) that the censure 
of honour ought to increase, when as, by substance, they arise to 
authoritie, and none so abii-ct but may be made a subject of glorie and 
magnanimitie, if so thereunto thty will bend their endeuours. 

For performance hereof, I know my theame so large and copious, as 
all your wits might, in gencrail, be imployed to dilute and expresses the 
same, yet only Clio shull be sufficient, whome alone I makecboise ofi^ 
the rather, because it chiefly concernes hir. And, so beckning towards 
her with her head, made an end of her speach. 

She had no sooner snyd, but all the rest, as satisfied in that they 
desired to know, presently cast down their lookes, that were before 
stcdfastly fixed vpon the biowcs of Tame, and began to turne to their 
labuurs, which, all this while, by reason of her talke, they had inter- 
mitted; onely Clio, clasping vp her booke of famous hystories, and, 
taking her golden pen in hand, rose from theseate where she sate, and, 
leauing her sisters with due rcuerence, was readie to foluw Fame where 
so euer she would conduct her. 

At the doore of the enterancc into the arbour, there stoodc a silver 
chariout drawne by the force of Pegasus, which Fame, of purpose, had 
prouided, because Clio therein might the better keejic wing with her. 
Into ihe which she was no sooner mounted, hut straightway, as switt 
as the burning dartes of lupiler, they made their passage through the 
subtle ayr, vntill they soared over the hollow vault, through which 
. the way Icadeth down to the rule of vnder earth; there Clio pulled her 
rayne, and, with a headlong fall, according to her guidi»s direction, 
neucr staid vntill the steely houes of Pegasus did beate against the gates 
of Tartara, wh( re, being receyvod in, they left the crooked thornie way 
smoking with sulpher, and ncuer ceasing contagious vapours, and kept 
directly on the other side, which delighted their eyes with so many 
glorious sights, that, before they knew it, they were arriued vndcr the 
Elesian shades ; where, when the goddes had remained a while, dis- 
coursing with her codipanion the seuerall habitations, as that of louers 
in sweete groues of muske she spide, at last, the place where Eleclrum 
growes, swectned coniinuaHy with burning baulme boughes, wiili 
which brnue souldiour3,and warlike cauilliers, cured their ranck scarrcs. 
There did she shake her bright iminorlall wings, and with ibe melodious 
nnyse, and with the sweet breath was fanned from those phoenix fea- 
thers, she awaked nine comely knigliis, that, arme in arme, vpon a 
greene banke, strewed with ruse buddes, had laid their conquering 
heads to rest in peace. 

This, quoih she, is the farthest end of our iourney! here must we take 
our stations for a while, and those whom thou seest ekvating their 
bodies from the ground, from whose browes sparkle gleames of immoriall 
glorie, are the nine worthy champions 1 told you of, whom, as by my 
power, I haue awaked; so will! cause to speake and declare their 
o»vne fortunes, onely be thou attentiue, and set down with thy pen 
what thou shalt heare them speaker and so commiug to the first, which 


WIS a tall aged man, hit haire as white as snow, vpon his backe a scar- 
let robe, his temples bound about with baulme, and, in his hand, a 
bright shioing blade : She toucht his lippes with her finger, and straight- 
wsy his tongue b^an to vtter these words : 

Sir IFUliam WaUwOrth^ Fiikmonger^ tamttime Makr of London, 

WHAT I shall speake, suppose it is not vaine, 
Nor think ambition tune:» my sounding voyce^ 
It bootes not clay, to stand on glorious gaine ; 
An other place bereaues vs of that chuyce : 
For when the pompe of carthlie pleasures gon. 
Our goasts lie buried vndemeath a stone. 

Nor, when t liu'd, cafpt 1 at Phoebus lights 

My deedes did passe, without comparing pride ; 
Who shone the least (mee thought apeai'd more bright) 
1 wisht it secret, what the world discride, 
Nor would now she we (fayrt; gpddesse but for thee) 
The charge besecmes an other, and not mee. 

To ouerpasse thcn^ how I was instaulM^ 

To weart* the purple fobe of maiestratei 
It shall suffice 1 su'de not, but was calde; 
Of Fortunes gifts, let baser mindi relate : 
In such a time, it was my chaunce to sway. 
When riches qualld, and vertue wonne the day. 

In Richards raygne, the Second of that name. 
Of Londons weale, iicfetenant to his grace, 
Wallworth was chose vnworthic of the same, 

Within his hand to beare the cities mace : \ 

To fishmongers, the honour did redownd, ^ 

Whose brotherhood was my preferments grownd. 

These were not dayes of peace, but broyling wafrc, 

Dissention spred her venom through the land, 
And stird the prince and ^ubiect to a iarre; 
Hated loue, rigor, dutie did withstand: 
in such a tempest of viibridled force. 
As manie lost their Hues, without remorS4>4 

For by a taxe, the King requirde to haue, 

The men of Kent and Essex did rebeil; 
Their first decree concluded none to sauc. 
But hauocke all, a heauie tale to telh 
And so, when they were gatherde to a head, 
Towards Loudon, were these gracelesse rcbells ledd, 



What spoyle th^y made in countries as tlicy came, 

How they did rob, and tyrranize in pride, 
The widowes cries vrere patterns of their sharae, 
And sanguin streamed of infants blood beside: 
For like the sea, when it hath caught a breach, 
So rusht these traytort, past compassions reach. 

So desperate was their rago, as they preaaildey 

And entered the citie by the sword ; 
TbeTowre walswere mightely assayld, 

And prisoner, tliere, made head lessc at a word: 
Earles manner houses were by them destroyd, 
The Sauoy, and S. Jones, by Smith fecld spoyld. 

All men of law, thatfetl into tlieir bands, 

They left them brcathlessc weltering in their bloody 

Ancient records were tum'd to firebrands, 
Anie had fauour, sooner then the good : 

So stout these cutthrotcs were in their degree. 
That noblemen must scpue them on their knee* 

In burning and in slaughter fong they toyld. 

That made the King and all his traine agast; 
Such rancour had their stomackesouerboyld, 
They hopte to get the soueraignitie at last : 
In deede his Maiestie was young in yearcs, 
Which brought distresse to him, and tahis pccrc9. 

Yet with a loyal guard of bils and bowes, 

Collected of our tallest men of trade, 
I did protect his person from his foes, 

Where there presumption trembled to inuadc: 
It yerkt my soule, to see my prince abubde. 
In whose defence, no danger I rcfusde. 

In these extreames it was no bonte to fight. 

The rebells marched with so huge an host ; 
The King crau'd parley, by a noble knight. 
Of Sterne Wat'i'yler, ruler of the rost: 

A countrie boorc, a goodlie proper swayne, 
To put his countrie to such wretched puync. 

This rustick scoft, at first, the Kings request. 
Yet, at the last, he seem'd to giuc consent ; 
Alcaging he would come when he thought best: 
T*is well (quoth he) is all their courage spent * 
lie make them on their bended knees intrcat, 
Or cast their bodies in a bloodic sweat. 


Bc^rtwith Steele, our gowned were laid apart. 

Age hindered not, though feeble were myjoynts; 
T'would make a fearfull coward take a heart, 
When prince opprest a countries cause appoynts : 
Who would refuse, and death, or gricuous paine, 
To follow him that b his soueraygne. 

The place appoynted where to meete these mates 

(That likeaudatious pessantsdid prepare, 
A% if their calling did conceme high states, 
With brasen lookes, deuoyd of awfull care) 
Was Smithfecld, where his Maiesty did 9tay> 
An howre ere these rebels found the way* 

At last the leaders of that brutish rowt, 

JackeStrawe, Wal Tiler, and a number more, 
Aproacht the place, with such a yelling showt. 
As seldome had the like been heard before: 

The King spake fid re, and bad them lay downe armeSf 
And he would pardon all their former harmcf • 

But as fierce lions are not tam'd with words, 

Nor sauage monsters conquered but by force ; 
Sogentlenespe vnshethes a traitors sword, 
And fayre perswasiuns makes the wicked worse; 
His clemencie prouoakt, and not disroaidc. 
Because of them they thought the King afiraide* 

And, as a witnesse of their inward vice. 

Their tongues beganne to taunt in sawsie sort; 
Obedience blusht, and honour lost her price, 
A modest shame forbids the fowle report : 
How presumption made these caitifes swell. 
As if the diuels did bellow foorth of hell. 

Their loathsome talkes iokindle angers fire. 

And fretting passions made my sinewcs shake, 
T'was death to me to see the base aspire, 

Such woundes would men in deadlie slumber wake. 
Yet I refrainde, my betters were in place. 
It were no maners nobles to dis|prace» 

But, when I saw the rebells pride encrease, 

And nonecoatroll and countcrchecke their rage; 
Twere seruice good (thought I) to purchase peace, 
And malice of contentious brags asswage : 
With this conceyt, all feare had taken flight, 
And I alone prest to the traitors sight. 



Their multitude could not amaze my mindf; 

Their bioudie weapons did not make me shrinke; 
True valour hath his constancie assignde. 
The eagle at the suniie will never winke : 

Amongst their troupes, inccnst with roortall hate, 
I did arest Wat Tiler on the pate. 

The stroke was giuen with so good a will. 

It made the retell coutch vnto the earth ; 

His fellowes that beheld (tli strange) were &til1, 

It mard the mancr of their former mirth : 

I left him not, but, ere I did depart, 

1 stabd my dagger to his damned heart. 

The rest, perceiving of their captaine ftbine, 

Soonc terrified did cast their weapons downe ; 
And like to sheepe began to (He amaine. 

They durst not looke on iustice dreadfull frownc : 
The king pursude, and we were not the last, 
Till furic of the fight were oaerpast. 

Thus were the mangfed parts of peace rcctrrde, 
The princes falling state by right defended ; 
From common weale all mischiefe quite abiurde, 
With loue and dutic vertue was attended : 

And for that deede, that day before t'was night, 
My king in guerdon dubbed mc a knight. 

Nor ceast he so to honour that degree, 

A costly hat his higbnosse likewise gaue, 
That Londons maintenance might euer be ; 
A sword also he did orduine to haue, 

That should be caried still before the maior, 
AVhose worth dcserudc succession to that chaire. 

This much in age when strength of youth ww* spent. 

Hath Wallworth by vnwontcd valour gaind; 
T'was all he sought, his couiitrey to content, 
Succcsse hath fortune for the iust ordaind : 
And, when he died, this order he began. 
Lord Maiors arc knights, their office bcrng done. 

Worthily had this father of his countrey the formost place in thit 
discourse, whose valerous attempts may be a light to all ensuing ages, 
to lead them in the darkcnesse of all troublesome times, to the resur- 
rection of such a constant affection, as will not faulter or refuse any 
pciill to profitc his countrey, and purchase honour. Such was his de- 
sert, as t-uen then when good men dispaired of their safetie, and tht 
verie pillars of the common wealth tottered, his courage redeemed tht 
one, and vndcrpropped the other : martialists and patrones of magn^ 


oimitie trembled at that, which he beyond all expectation aduenturrd. 
Let entiie, therefore, retract the malice of her blistring tongue, which 
heretofore (and now not a litle) striueth, by her contentions and ripen- 
ing nature, to obscure the brightnesse of their praise, and scoffe at their 
ingenious dispositions, whose education promiseth small : But yet, when 
occasion hath required, haue performed more then they whose brags 
haue vapord to the clouds. I wish the like minde, and the like loyal- 
tie, in all those that make the citie the nurse of their liues, and subicct 
of their fortunes, that London may continue stil that credite, to be 
called, the 'great chamber of her kingi,' and ' the key of her countrrys 
blisse/ But to proceede, Fame hauing marked the grauitie, eloquence, 
and orator-like gesture of this good knight, during the continuance of 
his talke, was so wdl pleased as she vowed to erect his statue, where, 
in spight of all contrarious and maleuolent blasts of vertucs carpers, it 
should stande immoueable ; and Clio, that had pend his speach, grieued 
she had not ley sure (as she desired, and he descnied) to set down his 
actions in better and more ample manner : For alreadie another of the 
knightly crew stood vp readie to delate what Fame expected ; therefore, 
she was forced to let it somewhat rawly passe, hoping that the excel- 
lency of the matter would excuse the rudenessc of the rime. 

Ihe next, being a man whom nature had likewise bewtified with the 
colour and badge of wisedome and authoritie, as one on whom a 
greater power then fortunes faigned deitie had bestowed the fulnesse of 
worldly treasure and heavens perfcctioni beganne accordingly to frame 
his tale: 

Sir HenrU Fitchard^ Knightm 

THE potter tempers not the massie golde, 
A meaner substance serues his simple trade; 
His workemanship consistes of slimie molde, 
Where any plaine impression soone is made : 

His pitchards haue no outward glittering pompe. 
As other mettcls of a £ner stampe* 

Vet for your vse as wholsomc as the rest. 

Though their beginning be but homely found ; 
And sometime they are taken for the best, 
J f that be precious that is alwayes sound : 
From gould corrupting poysons do infect, 
Where earthen cups are free from all suspect. 

So censure of the Pitchard you behould, 

Whose glorie springes not of his lowlie frame ; 
Though he be clay, he may compare with gould, 
His properties nere felt reproach full shame: 
For, when I first drew breath vpon the earth, 
My mind did beawtifie creations byrtb. 



I dare not sing of Mars im bloodie scarres. 

It is a stile too high f6r my conceipt; 
Yet in my youth 1 seraed in the warres, 

And followde hira that made his foes entreat: 
Edward the Third, the phoenix of his time, 
For life and prowes spotted with no crime. 

From France retumd, so well I thriu'd at home, 

Ai by permission of celestiall grace ; 
I rose by that, men termd blind fortancs dome^ 
To such a loftie dignitie of place: 
As by election then it did appeare, 
I was Lord Maior of London for a yeare» 

I vsde not my promotion with disdaine, 

Nor sufired heapes of coyne to fret with rost; 
I knewe the ende of such a noble gaine. 
And saw that riches were not giuen for lust : 
But for reliefe and comfort of the poore. 
Against the straunger not to shut my doore* 

I could repeate perhaps some liberall deedes. 
But that I feare vaine-glories bitter checke ; 
His plenties want, his haruest is but weedest 

That doth in wordes his proper goodnesse decke ; 
It shall suffice, he hath them in recorde. 
That keepes in store hb stewards just reward. 

Yet, for aduancement of faire Londons fame, 

I will omit one priucipali regarde ; 
That such as heare may imitate the same. 
When auarice by bountie shall be barde : 
Rich men should thinke of honour moie then pelfe, 
I liu'd as well for others as my selfe* 

When Edward triumpht for his victories, 

And helde three crownes within his conquering hand, 
lie brought rich trophies from his enemies, 
That were erected in this happie land : 
We all reioyc'd, and gaue our God the praise. 
That was the authour of those fortunate daycs. 

And as from Doner, with the prince his sonne. 

The king of Cypres, France, and Scots did passe. 
All captive prisoners to this mtghtie one. 
Fine thousand men, and I the leader was : 
All well preparde, as to defend a fort. 
Went Iborth to welcome him in martiall sort 


The riches of our aniiour« and the cost, 

Elach one bestowd in honour of that day. 
Were here to be exprest but labour loet, 

Silke coates and chaincs of golde bare little sway: 
And thus we raarcht accepted of our king, 
To whom our comming ^eemd a gracious thing. 

But, when the citie peardc within our sights, 
] crau*d a bounc subroisse vpon my knee : 
To haue his grace, those king^, with earlci and knights, 
A day or two to banquet it with mc: 
The king admirde, yet thankefuUy rcplide, 
Vnto thy house both I and these will ride. 

Glad was I that so I did preuaile. 

My heart rcuiud, my parts, me thought, were young ; 
For cheare and sumptuous cost no coine did failc, 
And he that talkt of sparing did me wrong: 
Thus, at my proper charge, I did retaine 
Foure kings, one prince, and all their royall traine. 

Yet, lo, this pompe did vanish in an houre, 

There is no trusting to a broken stafTe; 
Mans carcfull life doth wither like a flower, 
The destenies do stroy what we do grafie : 

For all his might, my gold wherewith I pleasde. 
Death took vs both, and would not be appeasde. 

Of all there now remaincs no more but this. 
What vertue got by toyling labours paine. 
To shrine our spotlessc soules in heanenlie blisse, 
Till lo our bodies they returne againe: 

What else we find is vaint- and worthlcsse drosse, 
And greatest getting but the greatest lossc* 

After that Clio had writ what this famous knight had tolde, she no 
little wondred at his modest audacitie. Therefore, she saydc this to 
Fame: Renowned goddesse, enemie to the fatall sisters, and onely friend 
to the good deseruers ; it were beseeming thy excellencie to proceede 
altogither with the honourable acts of th<^ memorable men, and onely 
touch their vertuous endeuours; whereunto the goddesse condiscend- 
rd : And, seeing another lift vp his head, as if he were desirous to 
speake. Fame beartned him on with smiling countenance to say as fol- 
loweth : 



Sir WiUiam Seauttoake, 

MY harmelesse byrth misfortunequite contemd* 

And, from nriy pappc, did make my youth a pray ; 
So scarcely buddy my branch^ were vDstemd» 

My byrth howrc was deatbes black and gloomie day; 
Had not the highest stretched forth his might. 
The breake of day had bcene the darkest night. 

Some monster that did enuie natures worke 

(\Vhen I was borne in Kent) did cast me foorth 
Id desert wiides, where, though no beast did lurke 
To spoyle that life, the heavens made for woorth : 
Vnder seaucn oakes yet mischiefe flung me downe. 
Where I was found and brought vnto a towne. 

Behold an ebbe that neuer thought to flowe. 

Behold a fall unlikelie to recouer : 
Behold a shrub, a weed, that grew full lowe, 
Bc-hold a wren that neuer thought to bouer: 
Behold yet how the highest can coramaund, 
And make a sand foundation firmelie stand. 

For when my infants time induste more yeares, 

After some education in the schoole. 
And some discretion in my selfc appeares. 
With labor to be taught with manuall toole: 
To le^ime to live, to London thps being found, 
Apprentise to a grose^ 1 was bound, 

To please the honest care my master tooke, 
I did refuse no ti^yle nor drudging pay ne ; 
My hands no labor euer yet forsooke. 

Whereby I might encrease my majiten gayne : 

Thus Seauepoakc liud, for so they calde my name, 
Till heaucn did place mce in a better frame. 

In time my prentise yeares were qi^itc expirde, 

And then Bellona, in my homelie brest, 
My countries honour with her flames had firde, 
And for a souldior made my fortune prest. 

Henry the Fift my king did warre with France, 
Then I with him bis right to rcadvancc. 

Then did couragious m<^n with loue compare, 

And striue, by armes, to get their prince renownc; 
There billic I like thirsty soule did fare, 

To drink their fill would venter for to drowne; 
Tlien did the height of my inhaunst desire 
Qr&UDt me a little leasuie to aspire. 


The Dolphyne then of France, a comelie knight. 

Disguised, came by chaunce into a place, 
Where I, well wearied with the heate of fight, 

Had layd me downe, for warre had ceast his chace, 
And, with reproacbfull words, as layzie swaine, 
He did salute me ere I long had layne. 

I, knowing that he was mine enemie, 

A bragging French-man, for we tearmd them so, 
111 brook t the proud disgrace he gaue to me, 
And, therefore, lent the Dolphyne such a blowe, 
As warmd his courage well to lay about. 
Till he was breathlesse, though he were so stout. 

At last the noble prince did aske my name. 

My birth, my calling, and my fortunes past, 
With admiration he did heare the same. 
And so a bagge of crownes to me he cast ; 
And, when he went away, he saidc to mee, 
Scaucnoake be prowd the Dolphyne fought with thee. 

When English had obtainde the victorie. 

We crossed backe the grudging seas againe, 
Where all my friends supposed warre to be. 
For vice and follie, virtues onelie bane : 
But see the simple how they are deceaude. 
To iudgc that honour, honour hath bcreaud. 

For, when my souldiors fame was laid aside. 

To be a groser once againe I framde ; 
And he which rules above my steps did guide. 
That through bis wealth Seauenoake in time was famde. 
To be Lord Maior of London by degree, 
Where iusticc made me sway with equitie. 

Gray haires made period vnto honours call. 
And frostie death had furrowed in my face 
Coldc winter gashes, and to sommers fall. 
And fainting nature left my mortall place ; 
For with the date of flesh my life decayde, 
And Seauenoake dide ; for every flower must fade. 

By testament in Kent I built a townc. 

And briefly calde it Seauenoake, from my name ; 
A free schoole to sweete learning, to renowne, 
I placde for those that playde at honours game ; 
Both land and liuing to that towne I gauc, 
cforc I tookc possession of my grauc. 


Lord Maior of London I was calde to bee. 

And iustice bal lance bare with vpright hand ; 
I iudg'd all causes right in each degree, 
I never partiall in the law did stand : 
But, as my name was White, so did I striue 
To make my deedes, whilest yet I was aliue. 

But my prefixed fote had twinde my thread. 

And White it was, and therefore best she 11 kt it ; 
She set her web, within a loome of lead, 
And with her baulme of grace she sweetely dight it : 
And with consent her sisters gaue this grace. 
That White should keepe his colour in this place. 

When this aged knight had peaceably (obseruing decorum with Ins 
passed state) tolde his plaine and vnpolished tale, in all points like him* 
selfe, clothed with the fashion of his mindc, vpon a bed of lillies hce 
layde him downe, whose colour, answerable to his snowie beard, made 
them take especiall delight in the simpathie of their qualitie. Then 
sayde Clio, thou faire and swift foote goddesse, winged with the done, 
and eyed with the eagle, let me bee boldned (with thy fauour) to de* 
naunde one question, Which of all thisnoble companie shall next dilate 
bis life? Sweete muse (quoth Fame) this knight, pointing to Sir John 
Bonbam, sometimes apprentice to a marchant in London. Yourdcitie, 
sayde Clio, then (vnder correction) will mistake the placing. For this 
gSillant lined in England, in the time of Edward the First, and we are 
alreadie come downe, so farre as queenc Marie. Therein, sayde Fame, 
wee doe preferre their age, and die honour of their calling, before the 
obseruation of time, which derogates from no other course, then that 
which sometimes our poets haue vsed, placing euf r the worthiest for* 
most, as to induce the rest by example, not to be starke for want of 
courage. Therfore, it shall not be vncomly or preposterous, when the 
yonger knights shall speake after those that bare the honour of the 

This excuse wel contented the labouring muse, who, framing her 
folden pen in her fingers, fixed it ready to her memoriall leaues, 
whilest Fame did rouse this worthie from his rest: A man of stature 
meane, in countenance milde, in speach man-like, and in performance 
couragious ; his beard Abron, and his bodie bigge; and thus he began, 
when Fame had giuen him caueat to speake. 

Sir John Bonhamy Knight. 

LET them that pull their quils from griffons wing?. 
And dippe them in the bloud of Pagans bane, 
Let them describe me from the brcst that sings, 
A poem of bloudie showers of raigne : 


And in my tale, a mournefoll eleagie. 
To such as do the lawes of God denie. 

A gentleman 1 am of gentle blood, 

A knight my father was. yet thought no scornt 
To place bis sonne within a prentise hood, 
For nature will appeare as she was borne : 
A Deuonshire man, to London loe I came. 
To learne to traffique of a marcbant man. 

Shortelie from thence to Denmarke was I bound, 

Well shipt with ^are, my master gaue in charge; 
I deemd the water better then the ground, 
And on the seas a man might see at large : 

Me thought that fortune there might flie her fill. 
And pitch and light vpon what place she will. 

Ariud at last, in Denmarke was I sett. 

Where Bonham did dcmeanc himselfe so well ; 
That, though some strangers there had pitcht a nett 
To catch my feete, themselues therein soone fell: 
And such dishonour dropt vpon their bead, 
As they their native coantrie quicklie fled. 

My worthlesse fame vnto the king was brought, 

Who shcwd himselfe both mild and debonare ; 
A cause of gracious kindnes still he souglit. 
And for my countrey did commend my care : 
And though I say it, that might better cease, 
Bonham did purchase fome, and loues encrease. 

A vertuous ladie, and a curteous prince, 

This famous king vnto his daughter had, 

Hir countenance did the baser sort conuince, 

Yet did she bare her gently, not to bad : 

Such was her bcautie, such was her grace and fauour, 
That watchful enuy no way could depraue her. 

Excepting still the praise of Procerpine, 

I may a little glance vpon her grace. 
The words she spake did euer seemc diuine. 
And nature chose her alters in her fuce : 

Where in the day her golden flame's do bume. 
And they that gaxe shall frie, except they turne. 

There bodies once consum*d, loue tooke their soules. 

And there satte binding them within her haire; 
She ueede not frownc, her smoothest lookes controles, 
See how she slaycs, yet dooth the guiltlesse spare : 
Guiltlesse they are that dare not stay so long, 
To heare the musick of inchaunting song. 


Should I but speake the word^ vqIq h^r fiioe, 
Perhaps^ you would suppoie I flatter her ; 
If so, I haue too long vpbeld the cbacc, 
And negligentlie spard the pricking spurre : 
In whose tweete praise I end, not vet begunnt. 
Because my laai« oonceipt wants mte to rumie. 

Who will not iudge, the brauest Denmarke knights. 

Will cracke their lances in her proud defence? 
And now by this a troope of worthie wights. 
Prepared iustes, her beawtie to incence : 
And vnto me, vnworthie me, she gaue, 
A fauour to adorne my courage braue* 

1 know your ielousie will iudg^ me nowe, 

And say I praisM her for her fauours sake, 
Alas ! he lookes not vp, is bound to bowe, 
A ceadcr neu^r springetb from a brake : 
It pleasd her well, age noi displeased mee. 
Why tbeo should envie still with honour bee. 

They, that hane guiders, cannot chose but mniie, 
Their roistrcsse eyes doe leame them chiualrie; 
With those commaunds these tumeys are begunne. 
And shiuerd launces in the ayre do flie : 

No more but this, there Bonham had the best, 
Yet list I not to vaunt how I was blest. 

Each kni^t had favour bound to his desart. 

And euerie ladie lent her loue a smile ; 
There boldly did I not my selfe insert. 
Nor secret practise did my pride compile : 
But of her selfe the gentle princesse gaue 
Rewarde of honour vnto me her slaue. 

In fine, my imMters shippe with goods were fraught. 

And I desirous to returne agayne, 
For all the fauours, that my fortune wrought, 
Vnto my masters businesse was no mayne: 
But so occasion, trusty friend to time, 
Prepard me steps, and made mc way to dime. 

Great Solimoq, the Turkish enperor. 

Made sodaine warres against the Danish king. 
And most vnlike a noble emperour 
Did spoyle and ruine to his confines bring : 
A thing vnlike, yet truth to witnesse call. 
And you shall fiade hee made mee ^Derail. 


A puissaunt armk then wai lenied stnughtg 
And skilful! pilats tent to guide my ihip : 
Imagin but a ChristiaDS deadly bate 

Against tbc beatben tbat our blood doth sip ; 

Then thinke how Bonham, beat against the Turke, 
Wrought wonden by the high Almighties worfcc. 

Half of his armie, smouldred with the dust* 

Lay slaughtred on the earth in gorie blood ; 
And he bimselfe compeld to quell his lust, 
By composition, for his peoples good : 
Then, at a parlie, he admirde me so^ 
He made me knight, aad let his armie go. 

He gaue me costly robes and chaines of golde, 

And, garded with his gallies, sent roc backe ; 

For fiunc, unto the Danish kiiig, had tolde ^ 

Jdy gotten gloric, and the Tuikish iVJBcke ; 

He gaue roe gifU, in guerdon of jny fight. 

And sent me into E^land like a knight. 

How I was welcomd there, t'were vaine to tell ; 

For, shortly after, life had runne his race. 
And hither was I summoned to dwell, 
My other fellow worthies to embrace: 
Thus gently borne, a marchant by my trade. 
And in the field Bonham a knight was made. 

Clio, with the straungenesse of this report, was wrapt 10 much into 
admiration (both in respect of his feature,' fortune, and faire tongue) as 
she seemed cast into a traunce, neuer remoouing her eyes from of his 
youthful! face, till Fame, perceyuing her deepe cogitations, put her 
foorth of her dumps, by asking her, why she pawsed so long ? Her 
chast eyes (it appeared) hauing all this while seene no other, but such 
whose countenance resembled winters frosts, began now, with the 
cbcarefull heate of this fiowring spring, to waxe warme with secrete 
working of some amorous passion to excuse with suspition; for it 
stoode with her credite not to bee faultie in any such idle toy. Shee 
answered. It was nut the inticcment of any misbeKeraing phantasie, that 
allured her to that sodaine silence, but onelie a kind of conceyte shee 
fostered, howe it coulde be possible^ that the Turke, being a man of 
nature barbarous and cruel), and especially towardcs Christians, should 
nowe bee so much mollifyed, and brought from his wonted fierccnesse 
to fauour and honour one, whom by nature hee loathed and detested. 
For, what though Bonhams valour had gotten that aduantage, as, by 
reason and lawe of armes, be might inforce the Turke conliesse, the 
safegarde of his life depended on bis clemencie; yet, since the brutish- 
nesse of that nature esteemeth of vertue but to serue their owne lust 
and profite, I see no argument of likelihoode, why the Turke, hauing 
his aduersarie in his court, that a little before had made him bowe, not 


with gentle penwasions, but with downe-right strokes, should not 
rather bee incensed to cutle off bis head, then doe him the lemst good 
in the world. So seucrc is the regarde of honour, as, rather then it will 
be vpbrayded with disgrace (though that disgrace were cause of many 
incomparable pleasures) no hateful], vnnaturall, or vngratefuU practise 
shall be attempted, til the eyesore of their grudging heart be remoued ; 
and princes, if they cannot bcare words, much less will put vp wounds ; 
and that was it, quoth she, that troubled my serious muse. 

At these wordcs Fame bc^n to frownc ; her patience was prouoked, 
that one so well instructed in the knowledge of such matters, as shee 
was (her whole stud ie consisting of nothing else, but of ciuill discipline) 
•should make a doubt in s«i slender a contrarietie; yet, tocutte off fur- 
ther protraction of time, shee replyed her this resolution : Thiit shee was 
sure shee could not be ignoraunt, howe that it was the affect of vertue, 
that wrought such an alteration in the Turke, which, as it is diuine, 
descended from the goddes, so it worketh beyonde the expectation of 
men. And, for proofc thereof, alreadie sundrie authorities were al- 
Icdged ; as, that of Dyonisius, whose murtherous mindecoulde not but 
rcuerencc Plato, although bee continually inueighed bitterly agaynst 
his tyrannie ; and that of Alexander, who loucd Darius for his forti- 
tude, although bee was his eneroie. Therefore it ought not to seeme 
miraculous vnto her, when vsually such accidents as those followe ver- 
tues fauouritcs. But, quoth she, I rather thinke you were amazed to 
hcare such rare exploits procccde from a prentice, and one of no more 
ex|)erience : But let not that seeme straunge ; hec spake no more then 
truth, nor all that might be sayd concerning his hawghtie endcuours. 
The other fourc, whom you see on his left hand, will, if you seeme 
incredulous, confirme a possibilitie in his speaches ; they are of the like 
condition and qualitie as he was, prentice?, that purchased estimation 
by the sworde. Clio blushed, that she had beenc so inquisitiue ; but, 
as it may be coniectured, it was not so much lor her ownc satisfaction, 
as to take away hereafter all controucrsie, and needlesse cauillation, as 
might concurre by the curious view of such as shoulde fortune to haue 
the reading of her lines. By this, Sir lohn Bonham had coucht him- 
selfe againe in the beddeof his secure rest, when another gay knight, 
Sterne in his lookes, and strong set in his limmcs, carying in his browes 
the picture of Mars, and in his maners the maiostie of a prince 
with a lowc salutation, made himsclfc knowne by thb brcfe oration : 

Sir Chriitopher Croker, Knight^ of Londofi^ Vintner. 

IF is not birth that makes a man renownde, 

Nor treasure stoie that purchaseth our fame ; 
Biggc words are but an emptie vessels sound, 
And death is better than a life with {^hamo. 
This proueth Croker in his trauailes made, 
Of Loudon once a vintner by his trade. 


in GraciouS'Streete, there was I bound to sertie, 

My masters name hightStodie in bis time, 
From whom in dutic I did neuer Hwarue; 
Nor was corrupted with detested crime: 
My education taught roe so to hue, 
As by my paines ray maisters purse might thriue. 

My fellow-seruants lou'd me with their hearts; 

My friends nnoye'd to see me prosper so, 
And kind Doll Stodie (though forsmall deserts) 
On me vouchsaft affection to bestow: 

Whose cohstancie was such, that, for her sake^ 
No toylc was gricuous I did vndertake^ 

Such was my state, as I ray selfe could wish, 
Dcuoid of care, not toucht with egre want, 
JMy si eepc secure, my foode choise bewtiesdish; 
Onely in this my pleasure seemed scant, 
That I vnable was her state to raise. 
That was the lengthner of my happic days. 

WhiUt thus I was perplexed with that thought, 

Behold how Fortune fauourde my desire. 
Of sodaine warres the ioyfull ncwes was brought. 
And Edward ayde of souldiors did require; 
Amonsst the rest it fell vnto my chauncc. 
That I was prest to follow him to Fraunce. 

My maister would hauesewd for my discharge. 
His daughter with her tcares gan mc assaile. 
On euery side they prayd and promist large, 
fint nothing could iu that respect preuaile: 
Such thirst of honour spurd my courage on, 
I would to warres, although I went alone. 

My forwardncsse perceyu'd, my valour knowne, 

Oucr a band of souldiors I was chiefe; 
Then sproute the seedes that were but lately sowno, 
My longing soulchad quickly found reliefe: 
1 sparde no cost, nor shrunke for any paine. 
Because I ment my loue should reape the gaine. 

To prouc my faith vnto my countries stay. 

And that a prentice (though but small estecmd) 
Vnto the stoutest never giueth way. 
If credit may by trial be redcemd : 

At Burdeaux siege, when other came too late, 
I was the first made entraacc through the gate. 

VOL. XII. y^ 


And when Don Peter, driuenout ofSpaine, 

By an usur])ing bastard of his line, 
He crauM some hcipe, hiscrowne to reobtaine, 
That in his former glorie he might shine : 
Our King ten thousand seuerd from his host, 
My selfc wasonei Ispeake it not in boast. 

With these Don Peter put the bastard downe, 

Each citicyeelded at our first approch ; 
It was not long ere he had got the crowne, 
And taught hiswicited brother to encroch: 
In these aifaires so well I shewd my might. 
That for my labour I was made a knight. 

Thus labour ncuer looseth his reward, 

And he that seekes for honour sure shall speed, 
What crauen minde was euer in regard ? 
Or where consistelh manhood but in deed ? 
I speakc it that confirmd it by my life, 
And, in the end, Doll Stodie was my wife. 

This worthic hauing finished his taske settc downc by Fame, to con* 
firme the order of his first honour, reposed himselfe amongst the rest,^ 
where he found a sweete murmuring of priuate and secrete conference, 
what had passed by the scuerall annotations of cuerie ones prayse, 
where they beganne (contemning the order of enuie) to colaudc rhe 
cndeuours of one anothers actions, none particularly arrogating in 
arrogancie the prayse of himselfe; to him that did most, they gaue 
most applause, and so sweetly concordcd in simpathie, that all the 
!Elesian harmonie might haue liberally commended their conditions. 
The hushing riucre were caulme without murmur or contempt. Th« 
leaues "stood still, to admire these famous enterprises, and excellent 
atchieuements. The windes bound themselues up in the contentatioii 
of voluntarie stilnesse, that they might beat liberlie to hearken to these 
meritorious men, and yeeldod them praise condescending to their paines. 
The goddesseof darknrsse(for envie approched not the place, so that it 
was by that meanes continually day) whereby the sunne was euer glorious 
in the pride of his height, without grudging, or any shew of declining; 
the bright shining of whose alluring countenance inticed another vp, 
called Sir lohn llaukwood, or Sir lohn Sharpe, from the Italians, I<>hn 
Acute, and from thence indeed he brought backe into England, both 
his name and his noblenesse. The pictures of his renowne, for, as an 
emblem of endlesse honour, the Venecians wrought underneath hi» 
statue, set up in the citie, Giouanno Acuto Caualiero. This John 
llaukwood, knight, he lined likewise in the time of Edward the Third, 
that prince of famous memorie. When he pleasantly looked about him, 
being a man of a mostcouragious countenance, and an ingenious nature, 
thus he beganne to speuke, as who should say he had wrong to bo de- 
ferred so long: 


Sir lohn Haukwood, Knight. 

WHO knowes my ofspring, doth not knowe my prime, 

Who knowes my birth, perhaps, willscornemy deedes; 
^ly valour makes my vertue more then slime, 
For thatsuruiues, though I weare deaths pale wcedcs: 
Ground doth consume the carkas vnto dust, 
Yet cannot make the valiants armour rust. 

^fter that eighteene yeares had toucht my head. 

Being a prentice boy in Lumbardstreete, 
A taylor by my trade, and I had lead 
A few wilde years for striplings farre unmeete: 
A souldior I was presi to serve in Fraunce, 
The Prince of Wales mine honour to inhaunce. 

I scrudc a priuate souldior for a while, 

Till courage made me greedie of renowne; 
And causde me giue a noble man the foile, 

That though with sturdielaunce did beareroc downe: 
On foot that day my self e did keepe in chace 
Some worthie knights that feard to shew her face. 

That day, the Prince of Wales, surnamde the Black, 

Did mount me on a gallant English steed ; 
Where I bestirde me so vpon his backe. 

That none incountred me that did not bleed: 
It was not I, nor Fortune, nor my fate, 
His bandit was, that seldome helpesto late. 

His be the honour then^ and his the *)rayse. 

Yet haue I leaue to speake what Haukwood did ; 
When noble Edward had disperst the rayes, 
And by his prowes of the French was rid : 

Three more then I, my selfedid make the fourth. 
The gentle princes then dubd knights of worth. 

His knights he tearmd vs still amongst the rest. 

And gauc vs honour fitting our estate ; 
For England to be bound it seemd him best, 

Because the French had swallowed Edwards bake: 
I tooke my leaue, and begged on my knee, 
That I might wander other parts to see. 

The prince inkindled with my honours heate. 
Discharging me, bestowde on me a chaine; 
For still fresh courage on my heart did beate. 
Which made me loue and womensacts refraine ; 
Hearing the Duke of Millaine was distrest. 
To Italie my voyage then was preit. 

M 2 


The seas I quickly past, and came to sliorc, 

With me were fifteene-hundred Engiisb-mon; 
We march t to Millaine walles, where we had more 
Of other nations to conioync with ihemt 

There did the Italians tcarme me John Acute, 
Because I had their foes in such pursute* 

Castels and towers I had for my reward, 

And got enough to pay my men wilhall ; 
But I to hired pay had no regarde. 

That prickt me oir-wrhich climbs the highest wall: 
Honour and fame, whereof they gaue me store, 
Which made me more audacious then before. 

Millaine thus peac'd, the pope oppressed Spaine, 

Then thither was I sent to quell his pride; 
Which being done, I did returnc agaiiie, 

And, stoopt with age, in Padua palace didc : 
And he, that yet will heare of lohn Acute, 
In Millaine shall not find the people mute. 

All warres you sec do cnde as well as peace. 
And then remaineth but a turobe of dust; 
A voyce of Fame, a blacke and mourning hcarce, 
To what, then, may we like this worldly lust? 
It is an euill vapouring smoke that fumes, 
Breaths In the braine, and so the life consumes. 

When Sir lohn Haukwood had boldly presumed by Fames autho- 
ritie to speake, he luyde hiro downe, like one that wreaked no guerdon 
for this grace; but, as if nature brought him foorth ofdutieto performc 
these deedes. So, ou^ht every martiall minde imagine, that he is 
borne for his countrey, as the custome of the ancient and famous 
Komains was in all their actions, to sttdie to redounde the honour of 
their deedes to their countrey. If this were ambition and pride, it 
would be laid flat in the dust, magnaniinitie extolled to the hightcst tip 
of dignilie, and such a sweete concord and vnitie amongst men, that 
he would be counted most happie that lined longest, f(»r the profile of 
his friend. When ISir lohn Haukwood, of this peifcction of minde, 
had luyde him downc againe, another of the same stampe culled Sir 
Hugh Caluerley, as little ambitious as his f( Howe, and as resolute in 
eut rie degree, arose, looking about him, being ignoraunt what to doe. 
-But Fame, iogging him on the elbowc, soone awaked him from his 
'fnax<«, whose suppose was his desert, which made him couct to bee 
obscurde. Therefore, the goddi^sse was fainc to animate him on fur- 
ther, before he would be perswaded to speake. Gentle he was, and 
full of humanitie, insomivch that he might haue wunoc all the po^en 
of that place to admire the baseni^ssc of his profession, being a weauer. 
But they, that hauc honour harbouring in their breasts, cauuot but 


giue him the right of his due, except the traine of enuie set vpon the 
traine of honour, as commonly it doth; if it do, see he shall speskei 
for himselfe, and appcalc to the most precise, whose wits, being more 
busic then beautified with moral maners, thrust boldly, yet ignorantly, 
vpon the well trained sort, approcbing famous perswasion; he began 
as sodainly as bee arose sodaiidy, as if now life had newly rcuiucd, 
began to breath this gentle breath from out his mouth. 

Sir Hugh Caiuerln/f Knight, 

WHO fearer to swim a riuer, dreads the sea, 

But he that's best resolu'd dare venture both ; 

The greatest lumpe doth not the greatest die. 

Base mettals to compare with golde are loth : 

And why my quiet wit refraines to speake, 

Is this, because the tallest ship may leake. 

In England late yong Cauerley did liue, 

Silke-weaiiers honour merited by deedes; 
In forraine broyles continually I striue. 
Of lasting memorie to sow the seedes : 
As by experience, they in Poland may 
Exprcssc my English valour euery way. 

After my princes soruice done in Fraunce, 

I was entreated to the Polish King ; 
Wheic as the Frizeland horse doth brcake the launce, 
And tamelesse beasts a valiant race doth bring: 
There Maximilian hunted with his lords. 
Entangling mankind beares in toyling cords. 

There did f bring a boarc vi^to the bay. 

That spoyld the pleasant fields of Polonie; 

And, ere the morning parted with her gray, 

The foming beast as dead as clay did lie: 

I'he ladies cheekes lookt red with chearefull blood, 
And I was much commended for that good. 

Some sayd I looked like Olympian loue, 

When as he crackt in two the Centaurs bow ; 
As swiftly footed as the God of Iy)ue, 

Or grwne Syluanus when he chast the roe: 
They brought me crowncs of lawrell wreathd with gold, 
The sweet and daintiest tongues my prayses told. 

These fauours fronted me with courage frowne, 

That like the yong Alcides I did looke; 
WbcD he did lay the greed ic lion downe* 



No beast appeard, when I the woodes fonooke ; 
So that the King supposd I was some wight^ 
Ordained by heauen to expeli their flight. 

In scarlet and in purple was I clad. 

And golden buskins put vpon my feete: 
A casket of ihc richest pearU*s 1 had, 
And eucry noble gmlly did me grcete. 
So with the King I rode vnto the court, 
Where, for to see me, many did resort. 

At lustes I euer was the formost man, \ 

In field still forward, Fame can witnesse it; 
And Cauerley at Tilt yet neuer ran. 

But foming steed so champed on the bit : 
But still my horse bis masters valour shewd. 
When, through my beavir, I with heat had blood. 

Yet men of armes, of wit, and greatest skill. 

Must die at last, when Deaths pale sisters please; 
But then, for honour, fame remaineth still, 

\Vhen dead delights in graue shall find their case: 
Ye Ion? to know the truth, in Fraunce 1 dide, 
Vhen from the valiant Polands I did ride. 

Nov, honour, let me lay medowne againe. 

And on thy pillow rest my wearie head; 
Ny passed prayse commaunds my soule remainc, 
WhtTcin these rosie bowers, with sweet dew fe<l : 
Though I was valiant, yet my guiltlesse blood, 
In crucltic of warre 1 neuer stood. 

Thus this aducnturous martialist having exprest the zeale of his con- 
science towards his countrey, the toylc and labour he sustained, to 
better the crcdite of his first calling, and the perils he waded through to 
patronage the ancient name of citizens; he reposed himselfe againe 
ffowneby the sidis of his noble warre-fellowes. 

Thus Fame and Clio, the one hauing marked his amiable partes and 
knightly gesture, the other delineated, with her pen. the eloquence of 
his oralour-like oration, questioning togiihcr some fewe poynts, con- 
f:erning the force of valour, and the vertuous inclination of many ob- 
scure persons, that although they lie sepultured, as it were, without 
regarde; yet, if oportunitie fitte them to reuiue their courage, will, 
like the diamond racked out of clay, excel), or, at least, compare with 
the brightnesse of glories. Rarest jewels concluded, that there was no 
per|iition, but by vcrtue; no climbing to honour, but by fortitude; 
and none base, abicct, and ignobje, but the vicious, slouthtull, and 
faint{iarted milkesops. They were not wearyed, nor seemed these 
former knights tales tedious v|ito thcm| although many would thiukc it 


a paine to bee tied to the hearing of so large a circumstance, and vcrie 
few but would exclaimc it were plainc slauerie to >irite such and so 
many seuerall conceytes, from the mouthcs of the speakers. Yet, such 
was their desir? to publish these mens desserts, and the delight they tooke 
to sec the increase spring of the seedes of vertue, for they would not take 
the smallest recreation, till euery one of the nine had fully liniahed their 
discourses, and therefore they attended, when the last would breath the 
secrets of his breast. 

Thia was a prentice as the rest, and a grocer, sometime dwelling in 
Cornehill ; his face was not eflfeminate, or his parts of a slender or weake 
constitution, but, by his lookes, he seemed couragious, and in the 
height, strength, and faire proportion of his body, victorious. Thus, 
being in al points armed like a champion, the verie aspect of his out- 
warde abite made semblance both of manhood and curtesie, wisedome 
and valour, knit in such a simpathie of operation, that he seemed as 
much to bee loued for peace, as praysed for prowes. And thus with a 
*oyce, neyther too meane like a child, nor too big like a gyant, but 
indiOerent betwixt both, he spake as foUoweth : 

Henry Malcuerer, Grocer^ surnamed Hcnrie of CornhiU. 

A precious cause hath still a rare effect. 

And deedes are greatest when the daungers roost ; 
It is DO care that trauels dooth neglect, 
Norloue that hath respect to idle cost; 
A bramble neuer bringeth forth a rose ; 
Where fields are fruitfuU there the lillie growes. 

By this coniecture what may be the end. 

Of his defensiue force that fought for Christ; 
It is no common matter, if we spend 

Both life and goods in quarrel! of the hiest; 
The least desert dooth merit his reward, 
And best cmploydc should haue not worst regard* 

No vainc presumption folio wes my deuise. 
For of my actions t' is in vaine to boast. 
Yet with tho Pagans I encountred twise, 
To winne agraine faire Sion that was lost : 
Vnto which warre I was not forst to go, 
T'was honours fire that did incense me so* 

For when the lews opprcst with Heathens pride 

Of Christian princes craude some friendly ayd. 
In euery countrey they were flat denide, 

Saue that in England here their sutc prcuaildc: 
Such was the furieof intestine strife. 
Ail Europe sought to spoyle each others lifct 



And as in London there was order tane, 

To make prouision for the Holy Land, 
My youthfull mind tliat feardeno forraine bane. 
Was so admirdc by might of conquering hand : 
As for a single combate they did sec, 
I'h' ambassadours made special! cboyse of me. 

Then for the tankerd I did vsc to bearo. 

And other things belonging to mine art; ' ; 

Mine hand did werlde Bellonas warlike spearc, 
For I was amide in Steele to play my part : 
Along we went to l)eard our daring foes> 
'i'hat soone were qucld with terrour of our blowes. 

I neuer loft the field, nor slept secure, 
Vntill I sawc Hierusalem regainde; 
To wntch and labour I did still endure, 
What ist that diligence hath not obtainde ? 
Yft grudging enuie valour to deface 
hy treasons malice brought me in disgrace* 

The uood that I had done was cleane forgot, 

Ingratitude prcuailde against my life, 
And nothing then but exile was my lot. 
Or else abide the stroke of fatall knife ; 

For so the ruler of the lewes concluded, • ' ^ 

His grace by false reports was much deluded. 

There was no striuing in a forraine soylc, 

I tookc it patient, thought t'were causelesse done, 
And to auoyde the stainc of such a foyle, 

That siaunderous tongues had wickedly begunnc; 
Where, to the holy well of Jacobs name, 
1 found a caue to shroude mc from their blame. 

And though my bodic were within their power. 
Yet was my minde vntouched of their hate: 
Tlie valiant faint not, though that fortune lower, 
Nor are thoy fcarcfull at controlling fate: 
Fur in that water none could quench their thirst, 
Except he ment to combate with me iirst* 

By that occasion, for my pleasures sake, 

J gauc both knights and princes heauie strokes; 
The proudest ditl presume a draught to take, 

Was sure tohaue his passcport seal d with knocks: 
Thus liu'd 1 till my^ innocence was knowne. 
And then returndc; the King was pcnsiue growoc* 



Andy for the wrong which he had offerd me. 

He vowdc me greater friendship than before ; 
My false accusers. lost their libertie. 

And, next their lines, I could not challenge more : 
And thus with loue, with honour, and with fame, 
I did retume to London whence I came. 

This valerous champion, having here made an end, bowed hiroselfe. 
Then Faroe with her owne hand gently laid his head vpon a soft downy 
pillow wrought with gold, and set with pearle, and so leaning him, and 
the rest, to the happinesse of their swectc sleepe, commanded Clio to claspe 
yp the booke, wherein she bad written the deedes of these nine worthies, 
and, as her ley sure serued her, to publish it to the viewe of the worlde, 
that euery one might read their honourable actions, and take example 
by them to follow vertue, and aspire to honour; and the rather, quoth 
she, because I would haue malicious mindes that enuye at the deserts of 
noble citizens, by proofe of these mens worthinesse, to repent their con- 
tempt, ^nd amend their captious dispositions, seeing that from the be- 
ginning of the world, and in all places of the world, citizens haue 
flourished and beene famous; as in Rome, Caesar; in Athens, Themi- 
stocies ; and, in Carthage, Hannibal ; with an infinite number more, 
that were, by byrth, citizens, by nature raartiall, and by industrie 
renowned. And so they departed from Elisian; and, within a while 
after, Clio, according to the charge was giucn her, sent forth thii 
pamphlet of her poems. 


A Dialogue between two young Ladies, concerning Matritnony^ 

Proposing an Act for Enforcing Marriage, for the Equality of Matches, 
and 1 axing single Persons. With the Danger of Celibacy to a Nation. 
Dedicated to a Member of Parliament. 

London; Printed and sold by J. How, at the Seven Stan in Talbot Court, im 
Grace-c^iurch-street, J 703. Quarto, containing thirty-two pages. 

An Epistle to a Member of Parliaments 

Honoured Sir^ 
Our fore-fathers, if not now in being, have passed an act, prohibiting 
the importation of foreign, and for the encouragement of the breed of 


English cattle, which, I am told, has much raised the price of land 
in England. With submission to your b(;tter judgment, I think, an 
Bct, for increasing the breed of Englishmen, would be far more ad- 
vantageous to the realm. Some say, That our ships are the walls of 
our island ; but I say, Our men are the walls, the bulw^arks, and 
fortresses of pur country. You can have no navies, nor armies, 
without men; and, like prudent farmers, we ought always to keep 
our land well stocked. England never prospered by the importation 
of foreigners, nor have we any aeed of theiOy when we can raise a 
breed of our own. 
What yoi| have here presented, is a discourse of two young ladies, who, 
you find, are very willing to comply with such an act, and are rrady 
to go to work for the good of their country, as soon as they shall have 
a legal authority; of which, if you arc the happy instrument, yoib 
will have the blessing of ten-thousand damsels, and the thanks of 

Your humble servant, 


POLITICA and Sophia, two young ladies of great beauty and wit^ 
having taken lodgings together, this summer, in the country, 
diverted themselves in the evenings by walking to a certain shadow, 
which they might justly call their own, being frequented by none but 
themselves and the harmonious society of the wood. Here they con- 
sumed the happy minutes, not in idle chat peculiar to the ladies of the 
court and city; they did not dispute the manner of dressing, the beau- 
ties and foil of the commode and top-ki\ot, nor the laws and adminis- 
tration of the atti ring-room. They talked of nobler subjects, of the 
beauty and wonderful creation of Almighty God, and of ihe nature of 
man, the Lord of the universe, and of the whole dominions of nature. 
Pity it is we cannot procure all that these ladies have so privately, as 
they thought, discoursed; but we are very happy in having what 
follows, which came to our knowledge by a mere accident. A gentle- 
man, lodging in the neighbourhood, one evening, taking a walk for his 
recreation, haply laid himself down behind a hedge, near the very 
shadow frequented by these ladies; he had not lain long, before these 
angels appeared at a distance^ and he, peeping through the boughs 
(which served as a telescope to bring the divine objects nearer his view) 
was extremely ravished with their beauty; but, alas! What was the 
beauty of their faces to that of their minds, discovered to this happy 
man by the soft and charming eloquence of their tongues? And no 
man in the world was better qualified to give an account of this noble 
dialogue, than this person, he being an accurate short-hand writer, and 
had been pupil to Mr. Blaincy in that science, and very happily had, 
at that time, pen, ink, and paper about him ; he heard with amazement 
their discourse on common affairs, but, when the charming Sophia had 
ftxed on asubject, he began to write as follows; 


Sapiia, My dear sister, how happy are we in this hlcssed retire* 
sent, free from the hurry of the noisy town ! Here we can cont(>niplate 
on the wonders of nature, and on the wisdom of the great founder of 
the universe. Do you see how the leaves of this thicket are grown, 
stocc we first retired to its shadow ? It now affords us a sufficient 
shelter from the heat of the sun, from storms, and rain ; see yonder 
shrub, what abundance of cyons sprout from its root ? See yonder 
ewes, with their pretty Jambs skipping and dancing by their sides. 
How careful is nature to propagate every part of the handy-work of 
the Almighty ! But you and I, my Politica, are useless crc^atures, not 
answering the end of our creation in the propagation of our species, for 
which, next the service of our Creator, we came into the world. This 
k OUT sin, and we ought to be transgressors no longer. 

Poiitiea, Every creature desires to propagate its species, and nature 
dictates to every part of the creation the manner of doing it. The 
brute beasts are subservient to this law, and wholly answer the end of 
their creation. Now there is the same desire in mankind ; but we, who 
are endowed with noble faculties, and who have countenances cnxted 
to behold the wonders of God in the firmament of heaven, look so far 
into the earth, that we sink beneath the dignity of beasts. In being 
averse to generation, we offer violence to the laws of God and nature 
imprinted on our minds. What she can say, that nature does not 
prompt her to the propagation of her species f Which, indeed, is one 
argument of the immortality of the soul ; for the rational faculties 
concur with the dictates of nature in this point. Wc are, as if were, 
immortal upon earth, in our suniving children. It is a sort of hyper- 
bole, but it is as near truth as possibly can be. We arc all of us 
desirous of life; and, since, being mortal, we cannot forever inhabit 
this glorious world, wc are willing to leave our children in possession. 

Politica. I cannot agree with you, Madam, that it is our fault we do not 
propagate our species, at least, I am sure, it is none of mine; I am 
young, and healthy, and beautiful enough, and nature daily tells me 
what work 1 ought to do; the laws of God circumscribe the doing of 
it; and yet, notwithstanding my conformity to both, you know, my 
circumstances.will not admit of marriage. 

Sophia. The impulse of nature in me, in that respect, is as great as 
it can be in you, but still under the regulations of the strictest rules of 
virtue. The end of our creation might be better answered, were not 
the matrimonial knot to be tied only by the purse-string. I can say, I am 
young and beautiful, and that without any vanity. This Mr. H 
knows well enough; he loves me intirely, and, I am sure, had rather 
live all his lifc*time with me in a garret, on the scrag-end of a neck of 
mutton, than with the lady his father proposes; but the old curmudgeon 
will not let his son have the least thoughts of me, because the muck, 
my father has left me, will not fill so many dung-carts, as he can fill 
lor his son. It is even true, what the parson said, ' Matrimony is be- 
come a matter of money.' This is the reason, that you and I stick on 
hand so long, as the tradesmen at London say, when they cannot put off 
tbeir daughters. 

foUtica* Matrimony is, indeed, become a mere trade; they carry 


tbeir (laughters to Smithlield, as they do horses, and sell to the highest 
bidder. Formerly, I have heard, nothing went current in the matri- 
roonial .territories, but birth and blood; but, alas! this was in the 
antiquated times, when virtue and honour was a commodity in Eng^ 
land, and when the nobility and gentry were in possession of large 
estates, and were content to live upon them, and keep courts of thdr 
own in the country; but, since they abandoned the state and grandeur 
of their fore-fathers, and became courtiers, and extravagantly wasted 
their substance in polluted amours in the city, they have no way to 
repair the cracks in the estates, but by marrying of fortunes ; and, if 
the woman be a fortune, it is no matter how she is descended ; gold 
is the quarry they fly at. I remember some o|d verses to this pur^ 

* Gold marriages makes, 'tis tlic center of love ; 

' It sets up the man, and it helps up the woman: 
' By the golden rule, all mortals do move, 

* For gold makes lords bow to the brat of a broom*man« 

These verses are older than cither you, or I, and yet they are trueia 
our time. 

Sophia. Aye, madam, too true, I find it so; but, methinks, it is a 
mere way of selling children for money, when, poor creatures, they 
often purchase what will bo a plague to them all their life-time, a 
cursed ill-natured shrew, or a beastly, ill-conditioned husband. Let 
me live a maid to the last minute of my life, rather than thus to lose 
iny content, my peace of mind, and domestick quiet, and all this for 
the inconsiderable trifle of a large bag of money for my portion. Let 
the old curmudgeons keep the golden coxcombs, their sons, for the 
best market. Heaven send me a spouse, that has sense enough to 
despise a bargain in petticoats with abundance of money and no brains! 
Methinks, a Smithflc|d match is so very ridiculours, that it might 
pauseatc a half-witted courtier. How ridiculous is it for an old miser 
to shew the portion first, and his daughter afterwards! And, when 
both parties are agreed upon the price, then miss goes off, coarse or 
handsome, good or ill-natured, it is no matter. I fancy, an old miser, 
exposing his daughter to sale, looks like a country farmer selling hb 
white-faced calf in the market, or like a grasicr enhancing the price of a 
ragged, scrubby ox, from the consideration of abundance of tallow he 
will turn out. EVen just such a' thing is a Smithfleld match ; and, as 
toon as the miser has struck the bargain for his daughter, away he goes 
to the parson's toll-book, and there is an end of the matter. 

Politica, It is even so; but it is a cursed wicked way of wedding ^ 
it is perfect kidnapping children in the marriage plantations. Thk'fli 
practice is contrary to the laws of nature and God. Those pretty 
you now hear singing over our heads, last Valentine's Day, chose cvei 
one his mate, without the direction, or approbation of their pareof 
The scripture says (I think it is in the sixth of Genesis, and the 
verse) That ' the sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they 
£ur ; and they took them wives of all which they chosc.^ Po but 


this text of scripture, it is very much to our purpose; it is not there 
wd, That the sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they had 
abundance of mmiei/^ but they were fair^ i, e, they were such as were 
beautiful and lovely. This was the attractive of courtship. It is not 
here said, ibat the old misers, as now, carried their sons and daughters 
to marriag&fair, and swopped one for the other, with so much money 
and the vantage; but here the sons are left to chuse themselves wives, 
and they chose such as were fair, even jubt such as my beautiful 
Sophia* And let me make this farther remark. That, for chusing such 
wives, they are called the * Sons of God'. Hence it naturally follows. 
That whosoever do chuse wives after any other manner are the sons of 
the Devil; and thus the young sold couple are the son and daughter of 
the devil, and the old miser, that sold them, is the devil's brother-in- 
law, and so they are matched into a very fine family. 

Sophia* Truly, sister, I am apt to think, God Almighty bat 
nothing to do with such matches, though we have a common proverb 
in England, ' That matches are made in heaven ;' I can truly say, at 
the country wench did, ' They are a long time in coming down/ 1 have 
waited for one a great while to no purpose ; my money will not grow to 
the height of a husband, though I water it with tears, and air it with 
lighs ; but, prithee, sister, let us contrive some way or other how to 
remove this great evil, this grievance of celibacy, under which the 
nation groam th. I can take it to be nothing less than a national judg- 
ment, when our men, the strength of our kingdom, are daily consumed 
and wasted away by the wars, and there is no care taken of a supply. 
Our ships and armies, in a short time, will want soldiers; lutthis is 
none of our fault; you and I would endeavour at a race of heroes for 
the service of our country, if we could come honestly at the instru- 
ments which make them* 

PoHtka. It is very true; but the remedy: In the first place, sister, 
let Os consider the causes of the evil, and then the remedy. Begin, 
madam, let me hear your opinion of the cause of this evil. 

Sophia, Non e fitter than your judicious self to lead the way in this 
argument. But> however, madam, I will obey your command ; and I 
think it is a want of virtue both in young men and women, that is the 
chief cause of this destructive evil. 

Out of civility to the man, I will begin first with our own sex. I 
am ashamed, and blush to speak it, how many lewd creatures there 
are of our sex both in the town and country; were there not so many 
whores, there would be more wives. I'he vicious sort of men are by 
them kept from marrying ; for it is mere virtue must confine a man to a 
married slate, where he has an uninterrupted converse with womankind 
as seldom and as often as he pleases, without confinement to any par- 
ticular person or temper. This made a nobleman say, that *' Two 
things could never be wanted in London, a wife and a watch ; because 
one may have a whore, and see what it is a clock, at the end of every 

The numerous compan y of strumpets and harlots, in London, makes 
the lewd sort of men out of love with matrimony. Nay, I have heard 
them sajr, ** There is no woman honest after the age of fifteen." I know 


ibey are lyars; but^ I am sorry to say it, tbcy bave too much reasoa 
to be out of love with our sex. (Sometimes I myself am almost of their 
opinion, especially when I consider how shamefully some lewd women 
prostitute themselves to every rascally porter and boy. And I think it 
more abominable in the women than the men, for nature bas given nt 
more modesty ; and, did not the whores ply in the streets, the leacher 
.could never stumble over them. 

The men, they are grown full as effeminate as the women ; we are 
rivalled by them even in the fooleries peculiar to our sex. They dress 
like anticks and stage-players, and are as ridiculous as monkies. They 
fit in monstrous long perukies, like so many owls in ivy-bushes; and 
esteem themselves more upon the reputation of being a beau» than on 
Xhc substantial qualifications of honour, courage, learning, and judg- 
ment. If yuu heard them talk, you would think yourself at a gossip- 
ping at Dover, or that you heard the learned confabulation of the boys 
in the piazj«a*s of Christ*s-Hospital. Did you ever sec a creature more 
ridiculous than that stake of humane nature which dined the other day 
at our house, with his great long wig to cover his head and face, which 
was no bigger than an Hackney-turncp, and much of the same form 
and shape ? Bless me how it looked ! just like a great platter of French 
.soup with a little bit of flesh in the middle. Did you mark the beau 
tiff of his wig, what a deal of pains be took to toss it back, when the 
•very weight thereof was like to draw him from his seat ? Did you not 
take notice how he replenished his snout with snuff, and what pains hie 
took to let us know that it was Vigo ? Did you not wonder at his 
learned discourse of the womcns accoutrements, from the top*knot to 
the laced shoe ; and what lectures he read on the fan, masque, and 
gloves? He understood ribbons and silk as well as a milliner and 
mercer, and was a perfect chymist in beauty washes and essences. 
In short, madam^ did you ever see a more accomplished coxcomb in 
all vour life ? 

Now, my dear, though I must acknowledge our sex to be extraor- 
dinary vicious, we will not knock under-board to the men ; we have 
yet more virtu re left among us than they can match. For though, to 
our great shame, we are degenerated in one respect, to our commend- 
ation wc are improved in another. We never had, in any age, women 
of better parts, of greater virtue, and more knowledge. Learning and 
wit seem to have forsaken the masculine dominions, and to have taken 
up their abode in the feminine territories. And, indeed, the men are 
so wickedly degenerated, that learning, virtue, courage, and conduct 
seem to l>e unnecessary accomplishments; for they signify nothing as 
to their preferment, but they make their fortunes as they make their 
wives, by money. And truly, madam, we have no great occasion to 
boast that we have supplanted the men of their virtue, for we have got 
that from them which did them no service, and which we must con- 
ceal, or else be laughed at for shewing it. However, madam, let us 
admire virtue, which gives that inward contentment, which all the 
, riches of the world cannot purchase. 

PolUica. I think, my dear Sophia, the parents are as much the 
cause of celibacy as the children, by breeding them above theirquality 
and estates. I give myself for an example* You know my father was 


«i tradesman, and lived very well by his trafRck; and, I being beauti- 
ful, he thought nature had already given rae part of my portion, and 
therefore he would add a liberal education, that I might be a compleat 
gentlewoman. Away he sent mc to the boarding-school; there I learned 
10 dance and sing, to play on the bass-viol, virginals, spinnet, and gui* 
fair. I learned to make wax-work, japan, paint upon glass, to raise 
paste, make sweet-meats, sauces, and every thing that was genteel and 
^hionable. My father died, and left me accomplished, as you find 
me, with three-hundred pounds portion ; and, with all this, I am iiot 
able to buy an husband. A man, that has an estate answerable to my 
breeding, wants a portion answerable to his estate; an honest tradesman, 
that wants a portion of three-hundred pounds, has more occasion of a 
wife that understands cookery and housewifery, than one that under- 
stands dancing, and singing, and making of sweet-meats. The portion, 
which nature gave me, proves now my detriment; my beauty is an 
obstacle to my marriage; an honest shop-keeper cannot keep a wife to 
look upon. * Beauty, say they, is like a tavern bush, it is hung out in 
the face to shew what commodity is to be sold ;* it is but like an honey-pot, 
which will fill a house with bees and wasps ; and the poor tradesnwn, 
that has such a wife, will dream of nothing but horns, as long as he ha» 
her; so that, madam, I conclude, our parents are great causes of this 
evil, in educating their children beyond their estates. 

Sophia, But how would you order the matter with one in my cir« 
cumstanccs ? My father, when I was born, was a gentleman of a plen- 
tiful estate, and gave me education according to the portion he designed 
me ; but he, being a true Englishman, joined with the Duke of Mon« 
mouth in the recovery of our rights, which, he then thought, were in 
danger; and, in that enterprise, be lost his life and estate, and so 1 lost 
my portion, and have nothing to subsist on, but the charity of my 
good aunt. I can marry nothing but a gentleman, and very few, if any 
of them, are inclined to marry the poor remains of an honourable and 
virtuous family. What can I do? 

Poliiica, Truly, my dear, our cases are both desperate; we cannot 
come up to good estates, and gentlemen of good. estates will not come 
dawn to us. I have often wondered, that there are no compulsive laws 
inforcing matrimony, but that, instead thereof, there are laws dis- 
couraging of roaniage, as is the act for births and burials, especially to 
the poorer sort of people, who are generally the greatest breeders; for, 
by this act, when there is a certain charge to a family, there- is a 
certain duty to the Queen. Now, if there was a law inforcing of 
matrimony, it would more effectually answer the end of her IVlajesty^s 
pious proclamations for the encouragement of virtue, and for the sup- 
pressing of all manner of immorality and profaneness. For such a la# 
would put a stop to abundance of whoring; it would make the women* 
virtuous, on purpose to get good husbands, and the men thrifty and 
diligent in their callings, in order to maintain their families. The ruin 
both of body, soul, and estate proceeds from this omission in our laws* 
I am sure, a law of this nature would not only be acceptable in the 
{light of God, but it would be very advantageous to the kingdom. 

Sopkiom I am very well satisfied ia the truth of what you say, but. 

800 Yhe Levellers : a dialocJue, kt. 

at the same time I do not think a law compulsive of marriage reason* 
able in all respects ; there are a sort of monsten of men, called wo» 
inen*haters; these brutes would be destroyed by this act. Nature also 
has excluded, by its deficiencies, some men from the state of matri- 
mony ; others are of such monstrous ilUhumours, that they can match 
no where but in the nunnery of Billingsgate; therefore, madam, if you 
get this act passed, it must contain many proviso's and exceptions. 

PolUica, Not in the least; I would have it a general compulsive act^ 
after this manner: Every batchelor, at the age of twenty-four years, 
should pay such a tax to the queen ; suppose it twenty shillings per an- 
num ifor the meanest rank of men, and what the parliament thinks fit 
for those of higher degree. Every widower, which has been so upwards 
of one year, and is under the age of fifty ye^rs, to pay the same sum. 
Now, according to computation, ue have seen millions of men in Eng- 
land, and, suppose two inillions of the seven be batchelors and widow- 
ers, qualified as before, according to their several ranks and qualities 
taxed by act of parliament, ihey will pay into the queen's exchequer, 
yearly, the sum of two millions five hundred thousand pounds sterling, 
which will be almost enough to defray the charge of the war by land 
and sea. 

The reasonableness of the act is plain, for that unmarried people are, 
as it were, useless to the state ; they are, like drones in a hive, reaping 
the advantage of other people's labours; they have their liberties and 
freedoms secured by the loss of other men's lives, and do not, from their 
own loins, repair the native stren^^th of the kingdom ; they are not so 
good as the spider, which han<;s in the loom drawn from her own bow- 
els: On the other hand, it is reasonable to ease such in taxes, as have 
numerous funilies tu the advantage of the commonwealth ; for these 
are at daily charge iu breeding up their issue for the defence and safety 
of the kingdom. 

Sophia, Your notions arc very good and proper ; but how will you 
be able to put them into practice? 1 hope you will not sollicit this bill 
yourself at the house of commons; you ought to have some way or 
other to communicate it to some particular member, that he may bring 
it in, as his own, and get a good reward for his pains from the court. 
Do not you remember, Mrs. Murray told us, the other day, how her 
husband was served about his project of exchequer bills? They got it 
to themselves, and did not give the honest gentleman one groat for his 
invention. Now, madam, if you could make yourself a portion by 
their making an act, you would do very well, you would serve your- 
self and your country; but, if this act passcth, 1 do not find, that you 
and [ shall be the better for it, for the men arc still left to the liberty 
of chubing, and they will chuse for ihe best portions; we are no nearer 
the marriage-bed than before. Pray tliink of some compulsive act, 
that may inforce them to marry me and you. 

Folitica. If will be very difhcult to get a particular clause in our 
favour, it will cost us, at least, our maidenheads ; and then, you know, 
we need not much trouble our heads about matrimony, we need not 
shut the stable-door when the steed is stolen. Pray, madam, let ma 


liear how you would have it for your own advantage? It is now your 
turn to propose. 

SofMa, Nature has made all things on a level; our first father made 
no jointure in marriage, nor had our first mother any portion. Adam 
was lord, and Eve was mistress of the universe ; and we ought to tread 
in the steps of our lady mother, and bring our husband no more than 
what nature hath given us. Settlements and portions never came into 
custom, till such time as murder and rapine had entered the world, and 
dowries were first brought into fashion by the posterity of Cain. The 
hellish miser, which the other day made so many scruples about my 
portion, did you not observe the mark of Cain in his forehead ? The 
match-brokers look just like the wandering Jews in England, followed 
by the curse of God into all countries where they come. 

Now, it is an easy matter for the parliament of England to bring mar* 
riages on the same level, as was designed at first by nature. I will pro- 
pose how: Suppose every gentleman of one thousand pounds per annum, 
was obliged to marry gentlewomen of such quality and portion with 
ourselves, and, if he would not marry at ail, his estate should become 
forfeited to the use of the publick. 

Fohiica. That would be hard, to take away all a man has in the 
world, because he will not marry. 

Sophia^ We will then find a medium : Suppose we build and endow 
them an alms-house with their own money, where every one of them 
shall have a convenient apartment, with a bed, and two pair of sheets, 
one chair, one candlestick, a chamber-pot, and fire-place, and some 
other cheap necessaries. We will allow them one coat a yevr, with a 
yellow badge on the arm, as the mark of a batchelor ; and every ten of 
them shall have one old woman to wait upon them : Tiiey shall be 
chiefly fed with water-gruel, and barley-broth ; and, instead of meat, 
they shall eat potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, tumeps, carrots, and par- 
snips ; for you know they come into that hospital, because they do not 
love flesh. 

Poiitica. Oh! fye madam, fye upon you! that would use brisk 
young gentlemen at such a cruel rate : This is downright tyranny. 

Si^pkm. I am sorry to see you so tender of those, who are so cruel to 
OUT sex : But here is no cruelty at all in the case ; consider the thing 
nghtly, madam, and you will find it otherwise. We esteem it the highest 
charity to provide alms-houses for the antient superannuated poor, who 
are past their labour ; now a man that is not come to his labour of ge- 
neration, at twenty-five years of age, is certainly past it, and we ought 
to reckon him as superannuated, and grown an old boy, and not fit to 
be trusted with what he has, as not knowing the use and benefit of 

What I say, in this respect, is the common practice of mankind ill 
things of another nature. The husbandman, if he has got a tree in 
his orchard, that has grown a long time, and has bore no fruit, he cuts 
him down for fuel, and plants another in his room : Why may we not 
do the same by the human batchelor trees ; especially, since they are 
grafted- on so good stocks, and are so well watered and pruned ? That 
is A very ill sort of seed that will fructify in no soil, it the same 

VOL* XII. o 


^hing in government ; a batchelor is a useless thing in the state, doef 
but cumber the ground, and takes up the room of a generous planti 
ivhich would be of great advantage to the commonwealth. I tell you, 
madam, according to the laws of nature and reason, a batchelor is a 
minor, and ought to be under the government of the parish in which he 
lives ; for, though he be a housekeeper and for himself, as they call it, 
yet, having no family, he cannot be reckoned a good commonwealth's 
man i and if he is not a good one, he is a bad one, which ought not 
to be suffered ; nay, he is not a perfect man till such time as he it 
married, for it is the woman is the perfection of the roan. 

Poliiica, Madam, I know you are endowed with true English prin- 
ciples; pray consider, whether the law )0u mention be not destructive 
of Magna Charta, since, without cause or offence, it deprives a man 
of his property, and takes from him the estate which legally descended 
to him from his ancestors. 

Sophia, Madam, I find you hold me to bard meat, I must give 
reasons for the passing of my bill : I argue thus, a person who has 
broken, and forfeited his right to the Magna Charta of nature, 
ought to have no protection by the Magna Charta of Englishmen* I 
prove my proposition thus; A batchelor of age, as such, has broken the 
laws of nature : Increase and multiply is the command of nature, and 
of the God thereof; now, having broken the laws of nature, he ought 
not to have any protection from the laws of England, because such, 
as have protection by those laws, do contribute to the support of th«)8e 
laws, which an adult batchelor does not do according to the constitu* 
tion of Magna Charta. Our forefathers purchased the liberties of Mag- 
na Charta, with the hazard of life and limb; they sealed that writing 
with the blood of themselves and their children, and, aAer the same 
manner those privileges were procured, must they be supported and 
maintained. Now a batchelor contributes little or nothing to the sup- 
port of our freedoms ; the money he pays in taxes is inconsiderable to 
the supplies given by others in children, which are an addition to the 
native strength of the kingdom : Money is like the soft and easy show- 
ers, which only cool and moisten the surface of the earth ; children are 
like the soaking rain which goes to the root, and makes trees and vege- 
tabhs fructify for the use of man : Indeed, my. dear, a batchelor can, 
in no sense, be esteemed a good Englishman. ^ 

From the reasons aforesaid, I cannot think the bntchelors are injurr-4 
by my bill. Acts of parliament ought not to respect piivate interests; 
they are made for the good of the community, for the advantage of the 
whole people of England, and you shall seldom find any act passed^ 
but what is to the detriment of some particular persons.^ Wc thought 
it no injustice to prohibit the importation of East India silks, notwith- 
standing the detriment thereby accrued to that company; and perhaps 
put all the ladies in court and city into the mulligrubs. These things 
the good parliumcnt never considered, but passed the bill in favour of 
the multitude of weavers in this kingdom, who get abundance of chil- 
dren for the support of the nation, and which must have starved, if fo- 
reign commodities had been imported to the destruction of the weaving 
ttade. That batchclors, that would come under this statute, are but 

THE Levellers : a dialogue, &c. 205 

an inconsiderable number, compared with the aggregate sum of the 
whole kingdom. 

PolUica. Suppose, madam, your reasons should weigh with the 
bouse of commons : There is another sort of batchelors, that answer 
the end of their creation, and yet are not married ; I mean such as 
multiply their species on misses and concubines, which, in plain £ng- 
lishy are whores : Nay, they can content themselves to do it with their 
female servants, who serve under them for that purpose ; these will find 
a way to creep out, if you do not bind your act very close. 

Sophia. That is well thought on, upon my virginity! It is true, 
these are a dangerous sort of creatures ; concubinage and whoring are 
grievous sins, both in the sight of God and man ; and the divine laws, 
as also the laws of England, are very strict against such offenders, and 
yet yciu see they do not find holes to creep through and escape punish- 
ment. But the law I propose will tie them fast; for, do but observe it» 
madam, those laws are best executed, that bring money into theexche« 
quer; every one would be a fisherman, if the fishes came like St. Petei^s, 
with money in their mouths. I dare engage I will sooner get a warrant 
to search for prohibited uncustomed goods, or to seize a brewer's cop- 
per for non-payment of excise, than I can prepare a warrant to search 
a bawdy*house« Do but once make it appear, that godliness is gain, 
and I will warrant you a thorough reformation of manners. Now my 
act does this thing to a T; I make men honest and virtuous, and, by 
doing so, I make the government rich, and c-asc the subjects in the bur- 
den i>f taxes. And I dare engage, if ever you see my bill passed the 
royal assent, you will find it well executed. 

Poliiica, That is according to the honesty and virtue of the com* 
missionen and assessors, appointed for that purpose; if they are not 
virtuous and honest, they may lessen your tax, and cause a deficiency. 
This has been the effect of letting landed-men assess landed-men, and 
tradesmen assess stock; when, if a tradesman had assessed land, and 
a landed-roan had assessed trade, being so very different in interest, they 
would have raised the fund to the height. Therefore, my dear sister, 
be cautious in this point, take my advice, I am your senior ; let no old 
fornicator be an assessor, commissioner, or collector of your duty ; he, 
that has in his time loved a bit of old hat, will be tender in punishing 
the sin of his youth. With him exclude all such as were batchelors be- 
fore the passing of the act ; they will suffer, nay, contrive a deficiency, 
that the act may be repealed. In short, let none be concerned in the as- 
sessing or collecting of this duty, but such as have many years lived 
with their wives in conjugal chastity, and by them have a very nume- 
rous issue* ; these, I will warrant you, will take care to bring the utmost 
penny into the exchequer. — But pray, how do you design to punish 
such of this sort of batchelors, that will not comply with your act ? I 
hope you will allow them a separate maintenance ; you will build them 
an alms*house also, will you not ? 

Sophia. As the others are used like fools and superannuated persons, 
so we will use these like madmen. We will build them a convenient 
bedlam, wherein everyone of them shall be chained about the middle 
to a post, like a monkey ; wc will feed them with low diet, as ihe 



freely than to church, and the hedger as if he were going to the we«l<« 
ding. When they wore come to the house, and eating the host it af- 
forded ; says the countryman, master doctor, if I could g^t mistress 
Anne to my house, would not that do well? Rarely well, quoth the 
doctor, if you can but compass it: But does she ever come hither? 
Very often, says the old man, to sec her old servants. But bow will 
you contrive it ? says the doctor. Lpavc that to me, quoth the hedger. 
Away goes the old fellow, and enters into discourse with his wife ; says 
he to her, I am minded to put a trick upon the doctor : The good 
wife in a passion replies, you S— , you old fool, you put a trick 
on a great man of the church ! Hold your tongue, Goody Simpleton, 
says the old man ; I find the great doctors bred at the versity have no 
more wit than we country folk ; Get you gone immediately to the 
8quire\ and take my daughter Joan alon^i; with you, and pray Mrs, 
Anne to dress her in her best cloaths, for there is a gentleman at our 
house desires to see her in sach a habit. Now you must understand 
their daughter Joan was about the same age and stature with Mrs. 
Anne, and had a great deal of beauty, obscured by homely country 
weeds, and she had by nature a pretty stock of the mother wit of the 
Jcnave her father. Away trudges the old woman with Joan her daugh- 
ter : Her request was no sooner asked but granted, and Joan was pre- 
9eiitly tupied ipto a little angel, by the help of Mrs. Anne's accoutre- 
ments. The doctor, you may be sure, waited with much impatience 
all this while; sometimes in hopes, and other times in despair. But the 
hedger, standing with his face towards the way, at length espies his wife 
and Mrs. Anne (foir that must be the name of Joan at present) coming 
towards the house. The old man beg$le^ve of the doctor to go and meet 
3f rs. Anne, and conduct her to the house, which he did presently, by 
running cross a field ; he made abundance of scrapes and cringes to 
madam Anne, with his hat in his hand, and then, stepping behind her 
like a footman, he followed her home all the way, ii)structing her how 
to manage herself in this weighty concern. 

When they came to the house the doctor receives her with abund- 
ance of ceremony^ the countryman also made some rustick bows and 
compliments, and tells her, it was a great favour in her ladiship to 
come in a visit to her poor old servants, and humbly intreats the favour 
of her to sit down ; for, though the gentleman present was a stranger to 
her ladiship, he was a person of quality, a learned and rich doctor of 
the church, who, in humility, peculiar to the clergy, had vouchsafed 
fo give so poor a man as he a visit. With much coyness madam Anne 
sits down, and, having made a bow from her seat to the doctor, she 
asked her old servants, how they did. The doctor being smitten with 
the visible part of Mrs. Anne's portion, and ruminating on the invi- 
aible ; the old man thought it was time to retire, which he did, by 
leaving a scrape or two on the earthen floor with his foot. 

The doctor had now what he came for, and to work he goes. He had 
forgot Thomas Aquinas, Dunce Scotus, and other unintelligible cramp 
authors, philosophy signifies nothing in an amour, and logick of itself 
IS enough to curdle a virgin's milk ; therefore the doctor accosted her 
with all the soft expressions he could remember in (hid de Arte Anumr 


di, which, the learned say, is the only way to know to resolve the difli* 
cult questions in Aristotle's probitms ; and, the girl having heat of beau* 
ty enough at that age to warm a stoick, by the vehement attraction 
thereof the doctor joined countenances; but never did a poor young 
iady receive kissf^ after a more modest and coy manner; and well 
might she blush at such an exercise ; for the poor creature never &melt 
man before, and it was the first time that ever she saw the doctor. 

After the doctor and Mrs. Anne had been above an hour together, in 
steps the old man. The girl she modestly retires, as well for instruction 
as to give an account how things went. In the mean time, the old man 
atks the doctor how he likrd the lady, and what encouragement she 
gave him ? The doctor* being ravit>hed with the visible and invisible 
qualifications of Mrs. Anne, expressed abundance of satisfaction, and 
how happy a man he should be if he could obtain his prize. Says the 
old man. At her again, Mr. Doctor, she is a brave good-humoured lady, 
and I Cold her sufficiently what you are : Says the doctor, prithee canst 
ih)t thou get us something good to cat and drink ; here's money, if thou 
canst. Away goes the old man, but first got Mrs. Anne into the room 
with the doctor, which was done with many intreaties, and performed 
with a wonderful modesty. 

We will leave the doctor and Mrs. Anne hard at work on the anvil of 
courtship, whilst the old woman and her husband arc getting supper 
ready, which they were so long about, that it grew late, and Mrs. Anne 
was just going. The doctor, you may be sure, intreated her to stay ; and 
the old man and woman sollicited very hard on the same account, tell- 
ing the lady, that they had nothing worthy of her acceptance, but the 
honour she would do them, now they had a great doctor of the church 
at their house, would be very gnat. In short, they argued so much, 
that Mrs. Anne was at length prevailed upon to stay ; the old man 
whispers the doctor, that he had kept supper back on purpose that he 
might have the more of the young lady's company, and therefore ad- 
vised him to make the best use of his time. Certainly, never any young 
lady made her lover so happy at the first interview ; to work goes the 
doctor, he courts like a dragon ; with an irresistible fury he lets fly 
whole vollies of bombaste rhetorick at her head, enough to beat a poor 
country girl's brains out; no stone did he leave unturned, but persists 
in his courtship, till interrupted by the old man's bringing in the sup- 
per, which, we may imagine, could not be less than a couple of cocks 
with bacon, and it is well, if the fowls did iK)t come out of the squire's 
coop, as wdl as the deaths out of his daughter's wardrobe. 

Down sits the doctor, having first placed iVIrs.Anne at the upper end 
of the table, and, having said a short grace, he desired the old couple 
to sit down, as did also Mrs. Anne. But they refused it, saying, they 
should not he so impudent as to set at table chick by chowlc with a 
great doctor of the church, and their Mrs. Anne, who agreed with the 
doctor to make them both sit down, which at last they did, in confor- 
mity to the church and their mistress ; and so they all fell heartily ta 
peckiag till they had consumed the whole provision. 

Supper being over, the old man asks his wife in the next room, what 
time of Jiight it was ; the old woman replied, it was past eight of the 



clock ; at which, tlic old man fell into a violent passion, and tedlded 
borribly at his wife, for not taking notice how the time went away. 
The doctor, hearing this combustion, comes to know the meaoiag of 
it. The old roan tells him, he is undone for ever; he hat kept Mil* 
Anne here so late that she is locked out of doors, her &roily being 
always in bed by eight of the clock, and that, on thb account, the 
'squire will turn him out of his service, by which he got his livelihood. 
The doctor pacific's him, by telling him, that, since thb thing most 
happen on his account, he nor his wife should never want as long as he 
lived. Well, says the old man, Mr. Doctor, since you are such a 
charitable man, I will put you in a way to do your business at onoei 
if you should apply yourself to the 'squire, he will hardly be brou^t 
to terms; for, though you have a good estate, yet I know the 'squire 
wjll marry my mistiess to a young roan ; and seeing you have now a 
hit opportunity, having the night before you, try to get her consent, 
and take her away with you by three or four in the morning to some 
parson of your acquaintance, and marry her. My master will be soon 
reconciled, for he has no other child to inherit his estate. A good 
jthought, says the doctor, and I will try what can be done in the case. 
You may be sure, madam, now the doctor attacks the lady with eU 
the fury imaginable ; the silence of the night and want of sleep, as I 
have heard those sl^illed in love a&irs say, are great advantages to aa 
invading lover ; these are the best times in which to storm a lady's 
ifortress. This, I suppose, the doctor well enough knew, and there- 
fore carried on the siege with vigour, and, before three in the morning, 
the young lady had capitulated, and surrendered upon articles; which 
^he doctor ^}U the old man of with abundance of pleasure, who, yoa 
may be sure, bids the doctor joy. The doctor desires the old man to 
g^t him a pillion, which, indeed, the old man had before provided ; 
and away goes the doctor and his lady, and were that day married. 

The doctor did not stay long at the place of marriage, but privately 
returns to his own house, where he acquainted some of his friends of 
his enterprise, who highly applauded hu ingenuity; but he enjoined 
them ^11 to secrecy for some time. The doctor daily expected a hue 
and cry after Mrs. Anne; but, hearing nothing of it, he concluded the 
^rvants had some how or other concealed the story from her Esther; 
but his friends advised him by all means to go to the justice, and 
ficquaint hin^ wiih what he had done with his daughter, a|id beg his 
pardon for so doing, as a means of reconciliation. 

The doctor understanding the justices of the peace were to meet that 
day abput some particular business in the town; he went to enquire for 
the justice, whom he only knew by sight, and the justice had no other 
knowledge of the doctor. The doctor, in hb best Pontificalibus^s, comes 
to tl^e place of meeting, >yhich was an inn, and asks the drawer, whe- 
ther esquire ■ was there ; who answered, he was. He bids him 
shew him a room, and go teU the esquire, that doctor — — — desired 
fo speak with him ; the esquire desires the doctor to come to him and 
the rest of the gentlemen, they having at that juncture no busineis 
be^re them ; but the doctor sends word again that hb business was 
ppyate, and ^ iptff^ted tl^e esquire (o coi9e to \nmf upoo which tha 


€fi{mfe comes. The doctor he falls on his kne^ and heg9 his pardon; 
the esquire was surprised^ as knowing nothing of the matter, and, being 
unwilling to be homaged by the church, he desires the doctor to rise, 
or otherwise he would talk no farther with him. The doctor refused to 
do it till such time as he had his pardon* The esquire, knowing of no 
offence, freely gave him a pardon; which done, the doctor arises, telling 
him, he was sorry that one in his coat should be guilty^of such a crime.- 
The esquire, being still in the dark, replied, he knew no crime he was 
guilty of: Sir, says the doctor, I have married your daughter: Married 
my daughter, says the esquire, you are certainly mistaken, doctor. It 
IS certainly true, says the doctor. Says the esquire in a great passion. 
How long have you been married to my daughter? I have kun with 
her these three nights, says the doctor: Says the esquire, you are 
strangely mistaken, doctor, for I left my dau^ter at home this morn- 
ing. Says the doctor, you are strangely imposed upon by your servants, 
tlMsrefore be so kind as to go to my house and see your daughter, who is 
there at this present. The esquire, in an odd sort of confusion, goes 
along with him to the house, and, being conducted into the parlour 
where madam sat in state on her aouch, the esquire burst out into a 
fit of laughter, and, going to the lady, salutes her, and wishes her much 
joy, and then told the doctor the mistake; for, says he, this lady is my 
servant — — — the hedger^s daughter Joan, dressed in my daughter^ 
doaths. The doctor, being astonished for some time, recovers himself, 
comes up to her, takes her in his arms, and, kissing her, says. If thou 
art Joan, I will love thee as well as if thou hadst been Mrs. Anne. And, 
ior aught I know, she made him as good a wife ; for, though she per- 
iectly kidnapped the old child, yet they lived very comfortably togo* 

PoHtica* I can nick your story with one of a clergyman, that was as 
indifferent about a portion as yours was curious. Mr. G ' ', a 
minister in Sufiblk, and of a considerable estate, lived without thoughts 
of marriage, till the age of fifty years; at which time one of his parish- 
ioners put him in thoughts of matrimony. He •said he had been so 
intent on his studies, that he never thought of a wife; but that now, if 
be could find out a good one he would marry. The gentleman told him, 
such a person about twelve miles off had three daughters, either of 
which would make him a good wife, but their fortunes were but small. 
The parson said, he knew the gentleman very well ,but did not know he 
had any daughters ; and, as for money, that was a thing he did not 
value. The parson, in a short time, gives the gentleman a visit, who 
made him very welcome, not knowing the design of his coming; but 
the parson told him, that he heard he had three daughters, and one of 
them would make him a good wife. The gentleman replied, he had 
three daughters, and that he hoped they would prove to the satisfactkm 
of any person who should marry them, and told bin^ either of them ww 
at his service. The parson said, they were all alike 1^ him; but, smco 
it was usual to marry the eldest first, he would take her; the gende^ 
man replied with all his heart Upon which the eldest daughter was 
called in. The parson, sitting in his chair, and smoaking his pip^ 
UM http ht had heard she would fliake him a good wife. The young 


lady, furpriscdy told bim, she did not know that, bat did believe she 
should be a good wife to any one that should marry her. The parson 
pat the grand question, Whether she would have him ? She told biro. 
Matrimony was a thing of that moment as required a great deal of 
consideration, and not to be so speedily determined. He told her, hit 
studies would not allow him a long courtship; and, pulling out his 
watch, laid it on the table, and told her he would give her an bourns 
time to consider of it. Away goes the girl, but, believing it to be a 
banter, she thought very little on that subject ; thepanon having looked 
on his watch, and finding the hour was gone, he desired the young lady 
might be again called in. When she came, the parson shewed her the 
watch, telling her the hour was past, and that he hoped she had considered 
of what be had spoke to her about ; she told him, that, it being a matter 
of such great consequence, it required a much longer time than be had 
set for that purpose. The parson hereupon b^an to fret, and told her 
further. He found she would not have him, and therefore he desired 
his horse to be brought out, for he would be going homewards. The 
gentleman pressed him to continue longer; withall, telling him, though 
the eldest required so much time for consideration, perhaps the second 
might not. 

The parson was hereby prevailed upon to smoak another pipe, and 
the second daughter was brought in, to whom he carried himself as to 
the former, and also allowed her an hour's time to consider of it. You 
may be sure, during this time, the father and mother worked the giri 
U> say. Yes, as plain as if she had been in the church. The time being 
elapsed, the parson was impatient to go home, wife or no wife, he was 
so indifferent. The girl was now called in, and the parson asked her, 
Whetbershe had considered of the manner ? She answered, Yes. Then 
will you have me i She answers, Yes. Very well then, says the parson 
to the father, all is done but matrimony ; and when shall that be? 
When you please, says the father. Then, says the parson, let it be on 
Tuesday next. But, says the father, who shall get the licence? I will 
take care of that, says the parson ; and so, taking leave of the father, 
away he goes. When he had gone about three or four miles, and 
thinking of the licence, he remembered he had not taken his wife's 
christian name, and so he rode back again as hard as he could drive, 
and, riding up the bouse, he found the eldest daughter standing at the 
door, so he asked her what was her christian name? She told him ; he 
bid her a good night, and away he goes. 

The day being come, and the licence being got ready, the parson 
comes to fetch his wife; away goes the father with him, and his three 
daughters, and two or three other relations, to the church, where the 
parson and clerk were ready to make matrimonial execution. The 

parson asked the father and Parson G^ , which of the daughters 

was to be married ; they answered the second daughter ; but the parson 
told them the first daughter's name was in the licence, and therefore he 
could not marry them till they had got another licence. Parson 
G^ ■ ■■ told them, he could not defer it any longer, and therefore he 
woald be dispatched somehow or other, and told them it was all one 
M> bim which of them he bad, and so be goes to the eldest, and asks 


ber whether she would have him ? And she, having better contideted 
of the point, answered Yes, and so they were married. 

From church they went hoitoe to her father's house, where, having 
dined, he tells bis wife she must put up such things as she designed to 
carry home with ber, for he would quickly be going homewards. The 
relations begged of biro to stay all night, and bed his wife at her fatber^s 
house, it being the usual custom so to do; he told them, he would lie 
no where but at his own house, and that he would be going presently. 
The relations finding no arguments would prevail upon him to tany, 
they got Mrs. Bride ready; and the parson, coming to tbe door, espied 
several borses ready saddled and bridled; he asked, what the meaning of 
those horses was ? They told him, for some of hb wife's relations, to 
accompany him home; he said, no body should go along with him but 
bis wife ; and so they were forced to stable their horseSi and let the 
married couple ge home by themselves. 

When they came home, he conducted her into the house, and salotecl 
her, which was the first time; and, after he had bid her welcome, and 
they had sat about half an hour, the parson calls the old maid, and 
bids her bring the spinning wheel, and told his wife, he did not doubt 
but she was a good housewife, and knew how to make use of that instro- 
roent. She told him. Yes; then he tells her, he did expect she would 
work while he was at work, and no longer. So away goes he to hit 
study, and Mrs. Bride to working with the whirling-engine. About an 
hour after he comes down, and tells her, now she must leave work, and 
bids the old maid get supper ready. After they had supped, he gocv 
into his study, and she to her spinning wheel. When he returns again 
from his study, he tells her, now she must leave work. After a wort 
discourse, be went to prayers with the family, and then orders the old 
maid to light her mistress up stairs, and put her to bed. 

Away goe^ ^adam Bride to bed, without any ceremony of eating 
sack-posset, or throwing the stocking; and, as soon as she was in bed, 
in comes the parson, and to bed goes he; but, sitting up in it, he bids 
the maid bring him the little table, a great candle, and such a book 
from the study, which she did, and the parson went to his reading; upon 
which, the bride calls to the maid. The parson asked her, what she 
wanted? She told him, Something. The maid coming, he bid her 
speak to her mistress, who bids her bring up the spinning-wheel, and a 
great candle in- the long candlestick ; which the maid having done, Mn« 
Bride went to whirling it about as hard as ever she could drive. At which 
the parson could hardly forbear bursting out into laughter, and, finding 
that spinning and reading did not agree well together, he put out hia 
candle, and laid him down in bed like a good husband. 

The next morning, he told her, that he found her a wife of a suitable 
temper to himself, and that, for the future, she might work or play 
when she pleased ; that he left all his temporal concerns to ber manage- 
ment, and they lived a very happy couple together, till death parted 

This, madam, is indeed a very comical story ; however, the young 
woman got a good husband by the bargain. Humours are indeed very 
uneasy companionsi but the whole course of human life is attended 


with mixtures* of pleasure and pain, and it is but coromnn prudence 
for u^' to overlook a few impertinences, rather than lose the most neces-* 
iary comfortb of life. We have all of us our whims and humours in 
relation to matrimony; sometimes they abound in the parents, and 
sometimes in the children, sometimes in the husband, sometimes in the 
wife ; for my part I do not know who is clear of them. We are now 
fallen into the humour of telling stories under this green bower, as if 
we were in a chimney corner at chrbtmas, which is a sort of impcrti* 
nence, pardonable in those who have nothing to do but pass away their 
time in tattle, and reading of books; however, it is more commendable 
than to goss>p, as the London ladies do, over sack and walnuts, cool 
tankards, and cold tea, and all the time rail at their husbands for being 
At the tavern. I will propagate the humour we are fallen into, by telling 
you a true story of a miserly old humourist. 

A certain country gentleman of about one-thousand pounds per 
annum, having buried his wife and all his children, took a brother's 
Bon into the house, as his heir, and gave him the best education that 
country would afford. The boy being a youth of clean parts, and good 
Ingenuity, he improved to an extraordinary degree in so barren a soil, 
and so Tery dutiful withal, that the old man perfectly doated on him, 
and was uneasy when he was out of his company. When be came to 
years of maturity, was grown ripe, and ready to be shaken into the matri- 
nonial bed, the old gentleman asked him. Whether he was inclined to 
marry? The young man, with an unwilling modesty, told him, what 
lie pleased ; he wholly referred that, and every thing else relating to 
himself, to his care, thinking himself always happy and safe under his 
conduct Says the old cu£^ Thou hast been a very dutiful child to 
tne, and therefore, says he, I am willing to please thee. Shall I look 
thee out a wife ? The young roan (who without doubt would have been 
better pleased to have looked out a wife fur himself} answered, With 
all his heart. 

The old gentleman looks out accordingly, and, being well known in 
the country, was not long in pursuit of a wife for his nephew, which 
happened to be a gentleman's daughter about ten miles distant from his 
own habitation. The two old people discoursed the matter, and came to 
this resolution, That the two yuung ones should have an interview, and 
see how they liked one another. Home comes the old man, and ac- 
quainted his nephew that he had pitched upon a wife for him, one of 
Mr. .'s daughters, who were all of them virtuous young women, 

and every way suitable to his quality and circumstances; although their 
portions were but small, their father having met with many misfortunes, 
yet the virtues inherent in them rendered them equal to himself. Ilie 
young man returned him abundance of thanks, and did not, in the least, 
question the prudence of his choice. 

Now was the young man to have an interview with Mrs. Bride elect, 
and his uncle retired into consultation with himself, how to equip his 
nephew for that enterprise. At first, he determined to send to London 
to have him a new suit of cloaths made, that he might appear like a 
courtier; but, upon second thoughts, and to save his money, he told 
Um, he could better provide for him at home; for, says be, you are 


just of my size, and I have above stain, in the prets, all my wedding- 
cioathsy which were the best I could lay my hands on, both for the 
fineness of the cloth, and the silk lining. I am sure they are so good, 
that I never wore them above four or five times in all my life, and they 
are never the worse for wearing. I will auure thee, if I had not a great 
respect for thee, thou shouldcst never have them. What sayest thou, 
child, wilt thou try them on? With all my heart, replied the young 
spark. Up goes the old man and brings them down; he puts them on, 
and they fitted exactly. The coat-sleeves were gloriously cut and 
slashed, small buttons on the coat, a little bigger than pease; the 
pockets about a handful below the knees, the breeches were open-kneed, 
a great deal wider than a Flanderkin's trousers, hung all around with 
abundance of little ribbons. The old gentleman asked him how he liked 
them? Very well, Sir, replies the spark. Now, says the old man, 
for a hat ; 1 have a special beaver I bought along with these doatbs, 
which he also produced; it had a crown as high, and in form of a sugar* 
loaf, with brims as broad as a tea-table. The young gentleman thanked 
him heartily for it also. Now, says the old cuff, there is nothing 
wanting but a pair of boots, which I have by me, and which being 
brought, the young spark tried them on, and they fitted exactly; tbej 
were of a russet colour with white tops. Pray, says the old man, take 
great care of these boots, it is wet weather and may spoil them, there- 
fore I would advise thee to twist some hay-bands about them for theit 
security, and, when you come near the house, pull them ofi, and then 
they will be neat and clean as they were at my wedding. But one 
thing I had almost forgot, Hast thou got any thing? Not one penny, 
replied the spark. Well thought on, says the uncle, courtship is charge- 
• able, here is half a crown, pray make good use of it. The young gen- 
tleman, thus equipped, looked like one of Queen Elisabeth's courtiers 
come from the dead, or, like snow on the grass and trees about mid* 
summer; but what would one not undergo for a good wife or husband? 
The young roan gets up early the next morning, and having resumed 
his former accoutrements, and mounting on the outside of his uncle's 
best palfrey, away he trots in pursuit of his lady. You may be sure the 
people gazed, and the dogs barked sufficiently on the road at this 
human scarecrow on horseback; but the worst of it was, as he Came 
within bow-shot of his mistress's tabernacle, the young lady was looking 
out at the window, and espying such a ^gure, she called her other two 
sisters, and told them that merry Andrew was coming, which put them 
into a great fit of laughter, till, approaching nearer, one of them cries 
out. It is Mr. ^ s nephew, and, knowing his business, they sent 

a man to take his horse, and their father and mother received him very 
genteelly at the door, and ushered him into the house. 

But, as if Fate had ordained that the poor spark should be exposed in 
his antiquated habiliments, it so happened that day there was an in- 
vitation of gentlemen and ladies to dinner at the house. When dinner 
was ready and set on the table, the young spark was conducted from 
another room to the rest of the guests. No sooner had he set his foot on 
the threshold, but the eyes of the whole company were upon him ; oiic 
toeoredi another tittered, a third laughted outright, no body knowing 


the tncaniog of this odd dress; so that indeed he was the scaramotkeh 
of the company. But by that time they had feasted their eyes on him^ 
and filled their stomachs with the victuals, they found the spark was 
very modest and ingenious, and that his good humour and eloquence 
was more agreeable to their ears and minds, than his habit to their 
eyrs ; and, by his ogling one of the ladies more than the rest, they guess- 
ed at his design ; and being unwilling to cramp love in its embryo, after 
dinner they all withdrew, and left that lady and the spark together. 

The spark immediately takes the opportunity to apologise for his 
garby and told her how necessary it wtu for him to please his uncle's 
humour in the thing, which, though it made him ridiculous to the com- 
pany, he hoped v/ouM not lessen her esteem of his person r The young 
lady (who knew she was to marry the man, and not the cloaths) told 
him» it was not the garb she looked at, but she had more respect to his 
other accomplishments; and at this rate they went on in discourse of 
love and matrimony for about two hours. 

The lady then thmking it uncivil any longer to withdraw herself, or 
detain the gentleman from the rest of the company, she desired him to 
go into the next apartment, and take a game at cards with the young 
ladies. The spark, knowing the weakness of his pocket, desired heartily 
to be excused ; but, being pressed by one he could in no wise refuse, 
he was at last forced to give her the grand argument, by making known 
tiher his Job's condition. She, understanding the humour of his uncle, 
guessed the money might as wqll be wanting as new cloaths, and she de- 
tired his patience for a minute or two, whilst she stepped out about a 
little business, which she did, and returns presently with a purse of 
Ave pounds, desiring him to make use of it. Upon which he waits up- 
on her into the next room, where he played at cards with the rest of 
the company, sometimes won, sometimes lost, but always pleased the 
company to admiration; so that they all thought his mistn*ss extremely 
happy in having so ingenious and good-humoured a lover, though in an 
antiquated dress. 

To make short of my story, he tarried with his lady a full fortnight, 
and in that time got her consent, and the consent of her parents, and 
returns home to his uncle with this joyful news, which extremely 
pleased the old gentleman ; but he took care to tell the old man, that, 
according to his own words, he had found indeed that courtship was 
chargeable, for that he had spent eighteen-pence of the half-crown he 
gave him, and, putting his hand in his pocket, he gave his uncle the 
remaining shilling. Well, child, says the uncle, I commend thy pru- 
dence and frugality, I find thou art to be trusted with money and any 
thing else, and tbei*cfore 1 will settle five-hundred a year upon thee in 
marriage ; and giving him a good sum of money to buy him such wed- 
ding-cloaths as he should best like, the marriage was soon after solemni- 
sed to the satisfaction both of old and young. They were a happy pair, 
and the old man, dying some years after, left them the remainder of 
his estate, which made an addition to their happiness. 

Folitica. Truly, madam, the young gentleman was enough ingeni- 
ous; had he been cross, and not pleased his uncle's humours, he would 
have been disixdieritedi though I must confess, it is hard to render our- 


ftt^Wes ridiculous to a degree of folly, to please an old humourist. Bui 
what is not sinful can never be shameful, and how unpleasant soever our 
actions are in the sight of men, if they ate otherwise in the sight of 
Goid, it is no matter : A good estate and virtue make a man beautiful 
in any garb. 1 believe I could conform myself to the humours of the 
greatest caprichio, were I afterwards to be as happy as the young lady 
you hav^ mentioned. We must all of us su£fer some way or other in our 
pupillage : The apprentice serves out his time with chcarfulness, in ex* 
pectation of being his own man at the seven years end. Future ease is 
a great encouragement to present labour. But I know many young 
men and women are ruined by the unaccountable humours of their pa* 
ixfnts and governors, and take such wicked courses, that they are seldom 
or never reclaimed, especially women, who have once broicen through 
the bounds of chastity. It is a common proverb amongst the men, that, 
* Once a whore and always a whore.' Though I have known this pro- 
verb crossed ; and, to level and make our stories even as we would do 
marriages, I shall give you an account after what manner: 

A country gentleman, who was a justice of the peace in the coun- 
ty of R ', not having been in London in bis life, or at least, not 
for a long time, being in conversation with some of his friends, heanl 
them speak of the practice of lewd women, in picking men up in the 
streets. The gentleman, being a stranger to this abominable practice^ 
could not believe any women could be so impudent, as they reported 
them to be; but they told him, he might experieiM:e the contrai^ any 
evening when he pleased. The gentleman was roolved to make the ex* 
perimcnt, and one evening in Fleet-street he takes notice of a very 
pretty gentlewoman, which eyed him very narrowly, whereupon he 
asked her to drink a glass of wine; she agreed at the first word, and 
went with him to the next tavern. 

When the gentleman and his doxy were seated in a room, and had 
some wine brought them, they drank very civilly one to tiie other ; but 
miss expected to be attacked, after another sort of manner than she 
found by the gentleman : For he asked her, how long she had continued 
that trade ; she told him, as they all do, but a very short time ; then he 
continues, how can you dare to live in rebellion both against the laws 
of God and man, and impudently pursue methods to destroy both your 
body, and your immortal soul ? In short, he read her such a lecture, 
that she, not being hardened in sin as are the generality of those mis- 
creants, burst out into a flood of tears, and told him, that it \ias not 
without a wonderful remorse of conscience she followed that wicked 
course of life, and protested to him, that it was pure necessity obliged 
her to it, for otherwise she could not get a subsistence. The gentle* 
man asked her further, how she came first to be debauched ? She told 
him her father was a country gentleman, who had extravagantly spent 
a plentiful estate, and then dying, left her to the wide world unpiovided 
for : She thought London was the best place to get her a livelihood in, 
and thither she came, but very unfortunately fell into the hands of a 
lewd woman, who betrayed her to the lust of a gentleman, who was no 
more than once concerned with her, and then advised her to ply the 


itrects ; and, tbat he himself was the fint peraoa that ever had picfced 
her up. 

The gentleman told her, it was hard to believe penons who had been 
guilty of such heinous crimes, and very heartily admonished her to'fiM^ 
take her evil practices, to repent of what she had already done, and to 
amend her life for the future. She gave him many thanks for his good 
advice, and told him, she should think herself a very happy person, if 
either he, or any one else, would put her in a way to live otherwise; 
He told her, if she would resolve to amend for the future, he would 
take care to provide for her. She promised him,, with all the astever»- 
tions imaginable, that she would: Whereupon he tuld her, that she 
should meet him the next day at a certain time and place; she coming 
according to appointment, he put her into a lodging he had provided, 
And, being well assured of her repentance and sincerity, and finding her 
an accomplished gentlewoman, soon after married her ; and she made 
him a chaste and happy wife, and he lived as happily with her, as if 
she had been possessed of a portion of thousands of pounds. 

Sophia. If I had here a bottle of wine, I would drink that gentle- 
man's health ; he, under God, saved the body and soul of that poor 
creature, and made a saint, by taking a sinner to his bed. I cannot 
chuse but reflect on our discourse, how naturally we have fisllen horn 
the discourse of matrimony, to love stories; we have talked away the 
time, as children cm themselves to sleep. But we must be gone, the 
aun it just down, and we shall be wanteid at supper. 







>Vhercin is fully shewn the Religion of the Calves-Head heroes, in thdr 
anniversary thanksgiving-songs on the thirtieth of January, by them 
called Anthems, for the years 16|^3, l694,l695, 1696, 1697; now pub- 
lished to demonstrate the restless, implacable spirit of a certain party 
still among us, who are never to be satisfied, till the present esta- 
blishment in church and state is subverted. 

D'ucitc justitiam moniti^ 4' ^^^ temnere divos^ ViRO« 

LondoQ, printed, and sold by tbe bookscllen of London und Wcstmiaftcr, 170S. 

Qaurto, containing twenty-two pftgM, 


THE following collection has been so industriously handed up and 
down, where it was thought it would be well received, and confim 


those principles which too many have unhappily sucked in^ and raise 
the confidence of those who were thought too bashful by their party^ 
that some honest men have thought there could be no more effectual 
remedy for the mischief it might do, nor any surer way to stop the 
career than a publication : For, though many may presume, that, 
under the disguise of mirth, and the protection of a free convcnar 
tion, they might safely venture to make an experiment how far the 
poison would work upon the undiscerning of untried constitutions, 
especially when rhime ^d musick were the vehicles^ and ' under the 
rose' was the word ; yet it is believed^ when;the malignity of the 
draught is publickiy discovered, few will venture upon it with* 
out a sufficient antidote, and fewer have the hardiness to admini- 
ster it. 

These lines (for such ribaldry and trash deserve not the name of 
poems) were composed and set to musick for the use of the Calves- 
Head Club, which was erected by an impudent set of people, who 
have their feast of calves heads in several parts of the town, 
on the thirtieth of January, iu derision of the day, and defiance of 
monarchy; at divers of which meetings the following compositions 
were sung, and, in affront to the church, c^ied Anthems. These, 
which are here published, are said to have been written by Mr. Ben- 
jamin Bridgewater, and that he was largely rUrarded by the mem« 
bers of the club for his pains. Whether Mr. Stevens was so well gra* 
tified for his sermons to the same tune, and on the same days, is 
more than the publisher dares say; but, perhaps, the pulpit was a 
bar to his pretensions, and the poet had been better rewarded than 
the preacher, had his sermons been put into rhime. 

However, it is hoped, that this publicatioi^ may give a check to the 
evil of the example, and destroy the continuance of the practice, 
or at least give fair warning, and take away the pretence of surprise 
from those who shall proceed to insult the government in so saucy 
and so villainous a manner. 

But, whatever the success may be, the publisher doubts not but his 
intentions are justified, and wishes the effect may demonstrate th& 
reasonableness of them, by putting an end to so unchristian and 
scandalous a practice. 

IT is a prodigious thing to consider (and, for the honour of my native 
countr}', I wish I could say it was a false imputation upon her) that 
the execrable regicides of king Charles the First should find any advo- 
cates, or abettors, still among us. 

I say, it is prodigious, that, after the whole nation, by their represen- 
tatives in parliament assembled, has enacted so solemn a detostJition of 
this unnatural parricide, and appointed a day of humiliation for ir to 
continue to all ages of the world, there should be such a set of boutefeus 
yet remaining, so impudently audaciousy as to justify a crime, for 

VOL, XII. p 


irhich the three kingdoms have smarted so severely ; and, in their wick* 
ied merriment, to act o?er, as much as in them lies, that tragical scene, 
which has justly made us infamous in the remoiett corners of the uni- 

Was it not cnoutrh that a powerful pnoce, allied to most of the 
-crowned heads in Christendom, was despuilcd of that just aathority, 
wherewith the laws of God and man had invested him, and, lastly, of 
Lis life, but that he must be most barbarously persecuted after- his 
death, and suffer those indignities in his memory, when dead, which 
he had so plentifully suffered in his person, when living? 

There is a time, when the most implacable malice is satiated, and 
«xerts itself no louger. The most savage nations seldom, or never, car- 
ried their resentments beyond the grave ; and thought it a piece of bar* 
barous cowardice, to insult upon the ashes of those that could not 
fpeak for themselves. 

But the royal martyr has been treated, if it is possible, with more 
inhumanity after his desolation, than he was exposed to when under 
the power of his rebellious subjects. He has not only been stigmatised 
hy the odious name of tyrant, who was, in truth, the best and roost mer- 
ciful father of his couutry, and loaded with a thousand undeserved ca- 
lamnies» ; but, what sImws the restless malice of his adversaries, even 
that incomparable bbok of devotion, composed by him in hb solitude, 
and the time of his deepest afflictions, and which no pen, but his own, 
could have written, has been adjudged from him by a * late mercenary 
author; although it is certain to any man, at least, that can distinguish 
stiles, that the person, to whom the republicans ascribe it, was no more 
capable of writing so excellent a piece, than fiie aforesaid compiler of 
Milton's Life, of writing an orthodox system of the mysteries of chris- 

Thus, as he was torn from his queen and children in his life, he was 
robbed, as far as it lay in the power of his malicious enemies, even of 
the legitimate issue of his brain : Tho* as truth, but especially truth in- 
juriously oppressed, never wants some generous hands to defend its 
cause ; so all the arguments that have been used by the republicans, to 
prove it a spurious piece, have been fully answered by a worthy f di- 
vine now living, beyond all pobbibility of a reply. 

The barbarity of his enemies btopped not here; for, not content to 
have assassinated his person and nputation, they even dispossessed him 
of his sepulchre, a piece of cruelty, which none but thorough paced 
villains ever executed, for, when the I long parliament had voted an 
honourable interment for their late prince, who had suffered so unjustly, 
all was stopped, by reason that the persons, ordered to regulate tlie 
ceretnony, when they came to examine the royal coffin, found the body 

This puts me in mind of what a worthy gentleman, who travelled 
with my Lord A — into Italy, told me some years ago, viz. That, 
during his short stay at Bern in Switzerland, a syndic of the town, who 

• Sre TolMid'a Life of MUloa. t Dr. Wagitafr. • i 8«o IJff. Ktlsim*t Pft&M to tk* 
Kind's TriU. 


used frequently to visit Major-Gencral Ludlow, when he lived in those 
parts, assured him, that he had oflen heard Ludlow, in a vaunting man- 
ner, affirm, that, though Ireton and Cromwell were buried under Ty- 
burn, yet, it was a comfort to him, that the royal martyr kept them 
company ; for, says he, foreseeing that his son would undoubtedly come 
in, wc took care that his father's body should not be idolatrously wor- 
shipped by the cavaliers; and therefore privately removed it to the 
place of common execution. 

Whether the matter of fact, as Ludlow related it, be true or false, 
it is not material here to enquire; though I think nothing can give any 
honest man a juster and greater aversion to the libertines of that party, 
than to observe that their malice has no bounds, and that it neither 
spares the dead nor the living. 

But, of all the indignities offered to the manes of this injured prince, 
nothing, in my opinion, comes up to the inhumanity and profaneaess of 
the Calves-Head Club. 

For my part, I was of opinion at first, that the story was purely con- 
triucd on purpose to render the republicans more odious than they de- 
served ; for 1 could not imagine, bow any men that pretended to be 
christian:), or called themselves Englishmen, could calmly and sedately 
npplaud an action, condemned not only by the word of God, but by 
the laws of the land, to which they pretend to pay so great a defe- 

As for the regicides, who were actually concerned in this execrable 
tragedy, this may be said, however, in favour of them, if I may be al- 
lowed so to express myself towards criminals of that magnitude, that 
having gone so far in their wickedness, and given his majesty such in- 
supportable provocations; and, what is more, measuring his clemency 
by their own, they concluded he could never forgive them ; and, there- 
fore, like Cataline, fuumf themselves under the necessity of committing 
greater crimes, in order to cover themselves from what was past. 

But what can be offered to extenuate the crime of these atheistical 
miscreants, who make that a matter of their lewd mirth, which the 
whole nation has, in the most solemn manner, ever since lamented, and, 
over their cups, applaud the most wicked action which the sun ever 
beheld ? 

For this reason, my good nature made me look upon it as a fiction 
upon the party, till happening, in the late reign, to be in the company 
of a certain active whig, who, in all other respects, was a man of pro- 
bity enough ; he assured me, that, to his knowledge, it was true; that 
he knew most of the members of that club, and that he had been often 
invited to their meetings, but that he had always avoided them ; add- 
ing, that, according to the principles he was bred up in, he would have 
niiuie no scruple to have met king Charles the First, in the field, and 
.opposi'd him to the utmost of his power; but that, since he was dead, 
he had no further quarrel to him, and looked upon it as a cowardly 
piece of villainy, below any man of honour, to insult upon the memory 
of a prince, who had suH'ered cnougii in his lifc*tinic. 

He farther told me, that Milton, and some other creatures of the 
commonwealth^ had instituted this club, as he was informed, in oppo« 

p *> 


sition to Bishop Juxon, Dr. Sanderson, Dr. Haramond, and other di' 
vines of the church of England, who met privately every thirtieth of 
J January; and, though it was under the time of the usurpation, had 
compiled a private form of service for the day, not much different from 
what we now find in the liturgy. 

That, after the restoration, the eyes of the government being upon the 
whole party, they were obliged to meet with a great deal of precaution ; 
but now, says he (and this was the second year of king William's reign) 
they meet almost in a pubiick manner, and apprehend nothing. 

By another gentleman, who, about eight years ago, went out of mere 
curiosity to see their club, and has since furnished me with the following 
papers, f was informed, that it was kept in no fixed house, but that they 
removed as they saw convenient; that the place they met in, when he 
was with them, was in a blind alley about Moorfields ; that the company 
wholly consisted of independants and anabaptists (I am glad, for the 
honour of the Prebbyterians, to set down this remark) that the famous 
Jerry White, formerly cha|)lain to Oliver Cromwell, who, no doubt of 
it, came to sanctify, with his pious exhortations, the ribaldry of the 
day, said grace ; that, after the table-cloth was removed, the anniversary 
anthem, as they impiously called it, was sung, and a calfs skull, filled 
with wine or other liquor, and then a brimmor went about to the pious 
memory of those worthy patriots that had killed the tyrant, and di-li- 
vered their country from his arbitrary sway; and, lastly, a collection 
made for the mercenary scribbler, to which every man contributed ac« 
cording to his zeal for the cause, or the ability of his purse. 

I have taken cai-c to set down what the gentleman told me, as faith- 
fully as my memory would give me leave, and 1 am persuaded, that 
some persons that frequent the Black Boy in Newgate-street, as they 
knew the author of the following lines, so they know thii account of 
the Calves-Head Club to be true. 

Now I will appeal to any unprejudiced Englishman, whether such 
shameful assemblies ought not to be suppressed with the utmost dili- 

Let us consider them, either in relation to the christian rcligi(m we 
profess, or to common hamanity and good manners, or, lastly, to the - 
laws of the land, and they afTront all equally. 

Therefore, I hope the mjigislratcs and others, whom it concerns, will 
take care, especially now, since they have the countenance of the go- 
vernment, to prohibit, as far as in them lies, and detect these wicked 
meetings, that the persons, there assembling, may be punished as they 

Though no man abominates persecution more than myself, yet, I 
will venture to say, that a set of people, who wish tl^e subversion of 
our ecclesiastical and civil establishment, as appears by the following 
papers, ought to expect no quarter from our hands. 


Anniversary Anthem^ 1693. 


ONCE more, my jnuse, resume thy chearful lyre, 
I jet this day's acts eternal thoughts inspire: 
Let every smiling glass with mirth be crown'd, 
AVhile healths to England's native rights go round. 
One such another day as this, alone, 
WouM fully for a nation's sins atone. 
'Tis a sure symptom that the people's bless'd, 
When once a haughty tyrant's ilispossess'd. 

Chor. Apollo's pleas'd, and all the tuneful nine 

Rejoicei and in the solemn chorus join. 


Again, my muse, immortal Brutus sing» 
Whose daring sword expeli'd a tyrant king: 
Then bravely fought, and bravely overcame^ 
To give Rom£ freedom and eternal fame. 
Such force has liberty, such conquering cbarms. 
That the whole world submitted to their arms. 
What wreaths shall we prepare, and how rehearse 
His lasting worth in everlasting verse ? 

Chor, Apollo's pleas'd, &c. 


Triumphant laurels too must crown that head, 
Whose righteous hand struck England's tyrant dead : 
The herm^ too, adorn'd with blood and sweat, 
Who forc'd th' opposing monster to retreat. 
Heaven still before a leading angel sent ; 
They conquer'd, 'cause they on his errand went. 
Like th' Israelites of old, their chains they broke. 
Guided by pillars, both of fire and smoke. 

Chor. Apollo's pleas'd, &c. 


Tis force must pull a lawless tyrant down ; 
But give men knowledge, and the priesfs undone. 
When once the lurking poison is descry *d, 
His juggling tricks are all in vain apply *d. 
In vain he whines, in vain he cants and prays. 
There's not a man believes one word he says : 
• Tis true, religion is the grand pretence ; 
But power and wealth's the mytholugick sense* 

Chor. Apollo's pleas'd, &c. 

* These two lines ere elmost verbeUm stolea oat of e copj of Tonce ki the Stole CeUectfos, 
Vol. I. 




Then fill the longing glass with sprightly wine, 
Oar cause is justice, and the health's divitie. 
The heroes smile, and our delights approve, ' 
Which adds new joys to those they find above: 
Twas so they honour, »o they conquest sought. 
Thus fairly dranii, and then as fairly fought. 
They love to see us thus our homage pay. 
And ble.«s the just occasion of the day. 

Chor. Apollo's pleasM, &c. 

Anniversary * Anthem, 1694. 


THE storm is blown over, the tempest is past. 
The tyrant is fallen, and is conquered at lust. 
Our fathers resolv'd it, and bravely 'twas done. 
To save the whole kingdom by lopping the crown. 
By her looks we discovered the nation viras pleas'd. 
Her fears were all vanisb'd, her troubles were eas'd ; 
Whilst we yearly commend an attempt so divine. 
And applaud the just action with calves-head and wine. 

Thus Rome, when she luffer'd by seven t lewd kings. 
That shackled her freedom, and pinion'd her wings. 
Long time she sat mournful, as England had done, 
And bow'd to the weight of a tyrannous throne ; 
Till, urg*d with new griefs, she for liberty cry'd, 
And liberty round the glad eccho reply'd ; 
Whilst Brutus resolv'd to give Tarquin his doom, 
And offer a king to the welfare of Rome. 



When by tyrant's endeavours the people are prest, 
Let this noble example inspire every breast, 
With the same resolutions to defend the good cause. 
The subjects just rights, their religion and laws. 
Then fill the calf's cranium to a health so divine, 
The cause, the old cause, shall ennoble our wine ; 
Charge briskly around, fill it up, fill it full, 
^Tis the last and best service of a tyrannick scull. 

• This semit to br a parody of a song in the Innocent Adultery, called the Daofer i» orer. 
•f Our aothar vu nn adairmUc hittorian. I fiad : This epithet of lewd Gta §t none of them bat 
Tju-quio i but ftU kiogi are alike truuiaai ; i..a. th^y are king*. 



Then, boys, let's drink a bumper, since their actiou nade us great. 

Let us lay our trophies at their feet : 

The cause gave courage to the soldiers, taught them how their foes to 

That alone cou*d free a captiv'd state. 


Then to puss, boys, to puas, boys, 
Let's dnnk it off thus, boys, 
As our fathers did, and the world shall us adore; 
It's happier to die, boys. 
Than in slavery to lie, bo}'s ; 
Thus the heroes chose it, and bravely died before. 

jimuvenary Antkemj 1695% 


¥f HAT the devil meaoB ail this pother 
On this day more than another } 

See ! the sot to church reels out ; 
See ! the lecher leaves his whore ; 
The rogues, that never prayed before, 

Are grown mosl plaguily devout. 


Prithee, parson, why those bicen. 
Pious frowns, and damn'd grimaces f 

Why so many creeds and * masses, 
Collects, lessons, and the rest 
Of the holy garbage drest } 

Proper food for mumbling 


Oh ! Sir, it's a debt, they say. 
Mother church must yearly pay 

To her saint's canonisation : 
It was the day, in which he fell 
A martyr to the f ' cause of helK, 

Justly crown'd with decollation* 


Mirth for us, and generous wiue ; 
Let the clergy cant and whiue, 

• The usual nan«,that these impttdent tont of Beli«l bejtow apra ©Or holy liturgy. ♦ Ifm 
what virtuotts priaciples thfM pretended Mints are oft That call the king's Ueroick sufferlaf 
for tlie l«wt of the Jaod, the liWies of the people, the eoosUtations of pvUaineAU, Mi th« 
MUUi4hed church, falUog for tM'csoie of heU.* O esecnkble ibomUtb ! 



Preach and prate about rebellion : 
' No more I beasta of kings, good heaven!* 
Such as late in wrath were given, 

Two curs'd tyrantSi apd a stallion. 


May the banish'd Tarquin's fate 
Be as just, but not so great ; 

Some mean shameful death attend hita : 
May curs'd Lewis, for old scores. 
Turn him poorly out of doors; 

Then may some friendly halter end him. 

An Anthem on the Thirtieth of January^ ifip^. 

THERE was a king of Scottish race, a roan of muckle might a. 

Was never seen in battles great, but greatly he would sh ^a : 

This king begot another king, which made the nation sad a, 
%Vas of the same n*ligion, an atheist like his dad a. 
This monarch wore a peaked beard, and seem'd a doqghty hero, 
As Dioclesian innocent, and merciful as Nero; 
The church's darling implement, but scourge of all the people : 
He swore heM make e-ach mother^s son adore their idol steeple; 
But they, perceiving his designs, grew plaguy shy and jealous, 
And timely chopp'd his calves-head off, and sent him to his fellows. 
Old t Rowly did succeed his dad, such a king was never seen a. 
He'd lie with every nasty drab, but seldom with his queen a. 
Restless and hot, he roU'd about the town from whore to whore a, 
A merry monarch as e'er liv'd, yet scandalous and poor a. 
His dogs at council-board wou'd sit, like judges in their furs a; 
Twas hnrd to say, which had most wit, the monarch, or his curs a« 
At last he dy'd, we know not how, but most think by his brother; 
His soul to royal Tophet went, to see his dad and mother. 
The furious James usurp'd the throne, to pull religion down a; 
But, by his wife and priest undone, he quickly lost bis crown a. 
To France the wand'ring monarch's trudg'd, in hopes relief to find a ; 

Which he is like to have from thence, even when the d 's blind a. 

Oh ! how should wc rejoice and pray, and never cease to sing a, 
If I bishops too were chac'd away, and banish'd with their king a ? 
Then peace and plenty would ensue, our bellies would be full a, 
Th' enliven'd isle would laugh and smile, as in the days of Noll § a. 

* A most adniirablft prayer I Tt is easy to nickname them beasts, and there is an end of them 
All. i A very fine cliHracter this of a mercifiii prince, who restored to us oar ancirnt go- 

vemraent and libertirs ! But this shews the gratitude of this faction. % Thus we find, 

that the subversion of roonarchy is not the only thing this party aims at, but likewise that of the 
hierarchy, which mu»t expire both together; so that, though some writers in that reign thoui|;htfit 
to ridicule that saying of ' No KiD((, no Bishop,* as absu^ and inconsequential, yet our fathers 
lived fo see it verified; and I heartily wish their posterities may never see the experiment made 
the iecond time. 9 The reader is desired to observe how inconsistently these liber ) 

tines act with themselves, who can celebrate the bloody and cnlamitOttS reign of an * usurper, 
frho irampled upon that vnrj r^publick, of which they boast S9 mncb.* 


An Anthem on the 30th of Januartf^ l697« 


TOUCH, now touch, the tuneful lyre. 

Make the joyful strings resound ; 
The victory's at last intire, 

With the royal victim crowu'd. 


The happy stroke did soon recover 

What w« long had sought in vain : 
Thus Ariadne lost her lover, 

But the gods relieved her pain. 


"Twas an action just and daring. 

Nature smil'd at what they did. 
When our fathers, nothing fearing, 

Made the haughty tyrant bleed. 


They, their sons thus well obliging. 
Taught us how this day to keep, 
Who, by fighting, storming, sieging, 
J^id the ravening wolf asleep. 


England long her wrongs sustaining, 

Press'd beneath her burdens down, 
Chose a set of heroes daring. 

To chastise the haughty crown. 


Thus the Romans, whose beginning 

From an equal right did spring, 
Abhorring Romulus's sinning. 

To the gods transferred their king, 


Let the * blackguard rail no further, 

Nor blaspheme the righteous blow; 
Nor miscall that justice rourther. 

Which made saint and martyr too* 

•- What religion ttiMe isecBdiarin are of, appeftrs by their giTioi; the loyal and orthodoi scat 
Um beat eaUbiiahtd cborcb in tbe world auca igaomioioo* aickaamcs. 



They and we, this day observing, 

Difier only in one thing; 
Tbey are canting, whining, starving; 

We rejoicing, drink and sing. 

Advance the emblem of the action! 

Fill the CALF'S SKULL full of wine; 
Drinking nc*er was counted faction, 

* Men and Gods adore the vine. 


To the heroes gone before us, 

Let*s renew the flowing bowl, 
Wliilst the lustre of their glories 
Shines like stars iroin pole to pole. 



First written in the Year 1704, 

For the Use of the Noble and Hommrable Famify of March, hy Dr, 

Arch, Pitcaim, 

Folio, contaiuiai; one pag«. 

1. TF a child, or any person, prow sick, feverish, or has pain in the 
-I- back, or slot of the breast, loss of appetite, drowsiness, short 
cough, sneezing, watery eyes, or some of these; but always accom- 
panied with some heat, and frequent pulse or droughL In this case, 
blood is to be taken at the arm, oY with loch-leeches; and, if the fever 
ceases not, though the pox appear, let blood a second or third time. 
Mean time, give the child a spoonful of syrup of white poppies at night, 
and in the nighttime, even till sleep or ease comes* 

2. After the pox appears, and fever is gone, then steep a handful of 
sheep*s purles in a large mutchkin of carduus*watcr| or hyssop-water, 

• Adminbld doctrine in the moatbi of hjpocritti, thtt pntend to lo moch nactity! 


or fountain-water, for ^wt or six hours; then pour it off without strain- 
ing, aiid sweeten it with syrup of red poppies. Give of this a spoonful 
or two, every fourth or fifth hour, to make the pox fill, and preserve the 
throat. Always at night time and in the night, give a spoonful or two 
of the syrup of white poppies for a cordial ; that keeps down the fever^ 
and keeps up the pox. 

3. If the pox run together in the face (which is the only thing that 
hrings bazaid) use the infusion of the purles, and the syrup of white 
poppies, oftener than in other cases; also about the eighth day from the 
appearing of the pox, or a little before that, give the child to drink of 
barley-water, sweetened with syrup of white poppies; this will make 
the child spit, which saves the child. 

4. The child's drink may be milk and water at other times, or emul- 
sion, but use the first rather. 

5. Apply nothing to (he face. 
Use no wine, or winish possets* 

6. If any looseness comes before the fourth day of the eruption, stop 
it with syrup of poppies, and &yc or seven drops of liquid laudanum, 
given now and then till it be stopped. 

Let the child's diet be all along a thin bread berry in the morning, a 
weak broth, and soft bread for dinner, and milk and bread at night, or 
sugar- bisket and milk; and, about the fifth day from theeruption, give 
the child groat-broth sometimes. 

Nota, If, at any time, the small-pox disappear, with a raving before 
the fifth, sixth, or eighth day from the eruption, then let blood again, 
and apply a large blistering plaister between the shoulders, and give an 

9. If the small-pox fall down, without raving, then apply a large 
blistering plaister between theshoulders, and give an emulsion; and boii 
in a gill of water, and as much white or red wine, half a dram or a 
dram of zcdoary-root sliced, two figs, and two scruples of theriac or 
diascordium ; sweeten it with syrup of kermes and white poppies, each 
half an ounce. 

S. In the end of the disease, that is, about the tenth, eleventh, four- 
teenth, &c. day, after the eruption; if the child's defluxion is gpuss,^ 
either apply a new vesicatory, or give often the spirit of hartshorn, in 
syrup of violets, oravomitor. 

Lastly, When the pox is blackened sufficiently, or about the four- 
teenth day from the eruption, let the child drink whoy, eat pottage, 
&c. or broth with prunes, unless the child's belly is open enough of 

But if the child is so young, or unlucky, as not to cough heartily^ 
and force up the defluxion, or if the frost thickens it; apply to the slot 
of his breast a poultise of theriac, diascordium, alkermes, oil of rose- 
mary, and cinnamon with warm claret, in a double linnen ctdth 

S» And to the throat apply, in a double linnen cloth, a poultise of 
cow*8 dung boiled with milk and soft white bread. Put a little brandy 
\o as much as yoy apply at a time. 


S. For the defluxion also give inwardly some of this* which has « 
dram of sperma-ceti, well mixed in a glass-mortar (not a brass one) with 
fine sugar; to which add at leisure syrup of violets, or halsamick, or 
poppy syrup, with some spirit of hartshorn. 

If the pox was confluent, or run together on the face, then, after tfne 
person is recovered, give a purgative, to bring away the remainder of 
the po$ within the guts. 




B^Dg an Essay concerning the great Usefulness and Advantage of4aying 

aside pubiick Oaths, 

£diDbttrfb, printed by Mr. Andrew Syoiton, 1704. Qnarto, containing 

sixteen pa|pes» 

IT is agreed to on all hands, that nothing does so much contribute to 
the ruia of kingdoms and societies, as the abounding of vice and 
immoi'ality. Wickedness, where it becomes outrageous, challenges 
heaven to vindicate its own authority, and arms God for vengeance 
against a people; and the more spreading and universal it grows, the 
greater mass of wrath is thence treasured up, and destruction thereby 
the more infallibly ascertained. And then. What overflowing inun- 
dations of fury may justly be apprehended beyond whatever this poor 
land has hitherto smarted by, from those monstrous heights of gigantick 
vice, which has swelled to degree^ that scarcely our very fears could 
have probably suggested ? Witness all sorts of the most licentious vil- 
lainies, that refuse to know any bounds or restraints ! We have now 
beheld atheism so bold, that it no more skulks in corners, but outfaces 
the sun and men. We have lived to see religion openly scofled down, 
and exposes! as the only befitting quality of the more flegmatick me- 
lancholy kind of people; swearing and drunkenness the genteel fashion- 
able form of behaviour; lust and whoredom the ordinary topicks of 
discourse; adultery, and vik*r uncleanness, brought to be the mode: 
perfidy and murder authorised. Finally, A contempt of all that is 
sacred and serious ; and then it cau be no wonder if we shall find 
iniquity become our ruin* 



And now, that matters are brought to so dreadful, so desperate an 
issue, the land groaning under such an intolerable load of sins and 
calamities ; What man is so hard -hearted, so regardless of God, so 
uncotKrerncd for the publick good of his native country, so void of all 
sense of his own, and h's neighbours danger, in their highest and dearest 
concerns, as will not contribute the utmost that in him lies, to put the 
most effectual stop to these common national sins, that otherwise will 
make the kindlings of the divine anger break out and consume all? 

Did we live in an age that shewed any tolerable measure of respect 
to the divine laws, it might be hoped, that whatever were made to 
appear to be sinful^ should instantly be abandoned; whatever were 
understood to be a crime, would be accordingly avoided ; and then the 
plain detecting a vice would go a great way towards its cure; but so 
fuT is it otherwise, that most men seem so utterly to have divested them- 
selves of all fear of God, that they can defy their own convictions, 
charge through all kinds of sins, and own no further difference of good 
and evil, than their present wordly interests, or viler appetites suggest, 
ior prompt them to; and then, What success can be promised from any 
attempt for our cure ? 

But yet no wickedness, bow general soever, ought to supersede en- 
deavours of a recovery ; but the more prevalent and universal vice 
grows, the more strenuous labours should be employed to controul it. 

It is, sure, one of the best oiHces a person can undertake, in days of 
general backsliding, to draw the notorious reigning sins of the land in 
tlieir just colours, to paint them in their true and horrid shapes, that 
men, by beholding the natural ugliness and deformity of them, and by 
considering what they will end in, may be cautioned to forsake them, 
and so may flee from the wrath to come. 

It were a vast work to attack all ; I shall single out one of the first 
magnitude, viz. the swearing of inconsistent oaths ; which, I presume, 
will, by all, be confessed to be an impiety of the greatest size, and to 
have a most powerful energy in drawing on all those woes and calamities 
we have been so deeply plunged into. 

It will be readily acknowledged by all the wrangling factions amongst 
us, that the land has been involved in no less than the horrid guilt of 
perjury ; as, indeed, where there has been so much swearing and 
counters wearing. How could it possibly escape? Every new turn of 
affairs must be accompanied with new modelled oaths, adapted to the 
circumstances of the prevailing party, right or wrong ; and then all 
must to pot, who cannot swear and sign these, how flatly soever con- 
tradictory to those others that preceded them, without the least regard 
paid to the former obligations, though as solemn as any hitter that can 
be substituted in their room. 1 need not give instances; the Solemn 
League, and Declaration, the Tender, the Test, &c. are too notorious 
pregnant instances to be denied : And the crime, upon an ordinary 
examination of the terms, thence too apparent: than which there can 
■ be DO higher contempt put upon the tremendous majesty ol (vod, nor 
any wickedness which raises a louder cry at the tribunal of heaven for 
vengeance. And if men can once be habituated to, and harden themselves 
in such couneS| tbere is an eiul of all that is holy and heavenly, tender 




and apprehensive in human nature, and all those storms and t^npcsts 
of the divine indignation to be expected which result from the justice of 
an affronted, sin-revenging God. 

Now, Can there be any man so devoted to all that is execrable and 
accursed, such a lover of mischief, as that he would not heartily wish 
lor a proper remedy of so great an evil ? And here it may be proposed 
to consideration, VVhat might be the most expedient mean, to prevent 
such gross commissions in this particular, as if, not obviated, must 
needs overwhelm and confound all, sink and ruin the nation and our- 
6clves ? And whether, considering that faith has so sensibly failed from 
amongst men, it were not, at present, adviseable, for saving the land 
fiom farther heights of sin, and so to ward off the must formidable 
judgments, that otherwise threaten us; whether, I say, considering 
these things, it were not adviseable to forbear the imposing of those 
customary obligations, and to dispense with all publick oaths, the 
swearing of which, in the present depravation of men's manners, can 
afford no possible security to the publick, but only tend to inflame our 
guilts, and more highly to incense God to pour out hb fiercest anger 
ujion us. 

It cannot, indeed, be denied, but that the custom of binding tub* 
jects, by oaths of allegiance, to the supreme powers, hath been very 
universal, and spread itself, far and nigh, all the world over. It was 
ever judged reasonable to provide the most effectually for the common 
safety, and to guard most carefully against all disturbance of the pub- 
lick peace and tranquillity; and to make sure of this, nothing was to 
Eromising, as to put men under the most sacred ties of restraint; that 
aving invoked God judge and avenger, they might be k(*pt from what- 
ever tended to embroil or confound affairs; that, however any bold 
incendiaries might hope for impunity from human power, they might 
still be awed by the unconquerable dread of the omnipotent justice, 
that would unavoidably pursue the violation of their holy vows. But 
then, all this was to suppose, that men made conscience of performing 
what they had undertaken, and were heartily resolved, with an un- 
shaken constancy, firmly on all hazards, to stand by what they had so 
solemnly engaged to, as they should answer to God on the contrary. 
But now, that there has such degeneracy and corruption of manncn 
sprung up amongst us, and there seem to be no longer any impressions 
of religion or morality left on the minds of men, but they can a^ easily 
hurst asunder all the most sacred bonds of allegiance, as if they were 
only threads of cobweb ; no other fruit of their oaths beii^; discern- 
ible, but the horrid guilt of breaking them. While matters are brought 
to this pass, it ought sadly to be laid to heart. Whether, out of pure 
ri-specl to the hunour of God, and holy n*verence to his name, it be 
not the far safer course to lay aside the imposing, or swearing of tbotc 
oaths, which do so notoriously tend to the farther debauching of mWs 
minds, and searing their consciences? And to incline men to favour 
this ovcrUire, these few obvious considerations may be briefly insitted 

I. That no party soouer gets the ascendant over their opponentt, bat 


tbeir utmost invention is stretched, all art employed to secure themselves 
ia the possession of what, it may be, only their force and violence hat 
nrrested, and quite to suppres5and bear down all that cannot justify their 
proceedings, and applaud, like enough, the groundless fictions of their 
diaicmpered brains ; and then oaths must be devised with particular re- 
spect to their own, and their adversaries tenets, that such as have 
different sentiments of matters from them, may be brought either to 
disclaim what they have formerly professed to believe, or exposed to all 
the hardships and calamities, that their persecuting insulting foes have 
the power to inflict upon them. And these obligations being coun« 
teoanced by the authority in being, at the time when they are imposed, 
are cried up by all the abettors thereof, as religious and necessary, and 
all that refuse them, branded with the most odious names their spite 
can load them with. And though nothing be less intended than the 
wdfare of the community, or the advancement of religion; yea, let 
leligion suffer the most mortal wounds their artifices can give her, an4 
the strengthening the faction be the only aim of their contrivances ; yet, 
O pcofane mockery! God is intitled to the faction, their fiery violence 
is christened zeal, and the standing or falling of religion must straight 
be made to depend on the interest they have espoused ; and he that 
comes short of their bitter fury is lukewarm, and all non- compliance 
is downright enmity to the gospel. And then their way being necessary, 
nothing less can suffice, than the interposing the most solemn oaths to 
aupport and perpetuate the cause ; but when the fulsome hypocrisy 
becomes abominable, and God, for the transgressions of a land, or in 
pity to the miseries of it, sends another change; no sooner is the scene 
ahifted^ but, as the sure concomitant of that, there succeeds a new 
.fevolution of oaths, and these again framed in the plainest contradictory 
terms to those that went before; so as, to be sure, the former shall be 
openly abjured by the latter; and when the oppressed get from under the 
rod of their persecutors, they reckon the severest treatment they can 
repay, but a just retaliation ; their resentments grow more stubborn than 
can be easily appeased, and the heap of injuries they have sustained is 
too great for all their charity to pardon. 1 hus, as the scales turn, there 
is nothing but swearing backward and forward; and what we are now 
.required to abjure, shall, by the next change of afiairs, be imposed 
at indispensable necessary duty. Now I would desire any sober man, 
in God's name, to tell me, Whether he thinks there can be a more 
dreadful sin than such a desultorious playing with oaths? What greater 
contejnpt can possibly be put upon the glorious majesty of God? What 
.can more expose the gravity and wisdom, the piety and probity of the 
nation ? Or prepare sadder plagues, and a more certdin iuioli rable 
ruin ? Sure I am, such as have the power in their hands to prevent so 

Eeat an evil, are concerned to lay it sadly to heart; for they that can 
nder a sin, and do it not, are highly accountable to God tor it. 
AdA in this respect it may seem reasonable to dispense \%ith o.iths. 
Especially if we farther, 

II. Consider, what small reckoning men have now unhappily learned 
to make of them. Publick bonds for moiwy, and publick oaths, are 
reputed owre maiten of Ibris^ that hiy no obligiation upon ibe cuu« 


science ; and there are but n few that judge themselves any longer bomrf 
by them, than a fair occasion offers of emancipating them. Whatever 
the importance of their most solemn promises have been, they make m 
difficulty, on the first temptation, of engaging themselves fo the other 
side of cht* contradiction. A guilt this is, of such an atrocious oatuir, 
as must needs utterly lay waste the conscience, and render it inseotible 
and callous. It is not the opinions we take up, that can alter the natore 
of our duty. The heinousnoss of perjury is nothing abated by the stab* 
bom confidence of our fancies. The divine sanctions cannot be altered 
by any power of our imaginations ; all our belief can have no efficacy 
towards the making that venial, which God has made damning. Sis 
will retain its native venom, its own proper deadly nature, whalcr«T 
slight perfunctory notions we force ourselves to entertain concerning ii. 
Would men, thertffore, summon up their serious attention, and in God's 
fear deliberately weigh what is to be done. It is fairly supposeabk^ 
-they would utterly abolish a practice, whereby, because of men's wild 
mistaken notions, they do unwarily deceive their own souls, and most 
palpably provoke and dishonour that all-powerful and just jadge, to 
-whom vengeance doth belong. It is proper here to remember, that the 
swearing pro and con, in the contests, betwixt the houses of York and 
Lancaster, was so heinous a transgression, as could, it seems, be ex- 
piated by no less sacrifice, than of a hundred-thousand lives; for M 
fewer were slain, in that quarrel. 

III. Let it be considered, that these oaths arc a plain force and nth 
lence to most, even of those that swear them. Some men, for worldly 
advantage, are tempted to take them, though with i^luctant conscien- 
ces. A great many stand condemned by the sentence of their owa 
hearts, in the very moment of the solemnity. Intercut is the great deity, 
that has by far the roost votaric-s ; there is nothing so hazardous, which 
the prospect of gain will not make men adventure on; there are but 
few such virtuous souls, as are able to sesist a temptation of fitting. 
For a piece of money, one will struggle hard with, and worst his own 
conscience, and defy present convictions, in the very instant of hb 
grossest commissions. And then it is obvious, that the annexing oaths, 
to lucrative places, is one of the most dangerous snares possible. Profit 
is a bait, that will make any hook be swallowed down. Now sure, 
hereby comes evil, that all the benefit, that can be pretended on the 
other side, can never prepondenite. 

IV. Add, as an unavoidable consequent of this, the unspeakable 
damage, that accrues to the publirk, by the frequent revolutions and 
interfering of oaths; for, by this means, the best and most useful men 
are often kept back from places of trust, and such thrust in, as are the 
plague and reproach of mankind. He that regards God and himself 
fears an oath, and will not swear any thing, but what he is fully satisfied 
does plainly consist with his strict duty, and all the former obi igations, 
that have, at any time, passed upon him. Thence he is barred those 
stations, wherein he might be a blessing to his country. Whereas, on 
the other hand, the vicious man, that by his lewd conversation has 
numbed and stifled bis conscience, and blotted out all sense of virtue in 
iris soul, will boggle at nothing; but, at all ratcsi will climb up to 


these posts of advantage or authority, that bis covetousness or ambition 
beckon him to. Let him have money and honour, and be shall never 
enquire on what terms he comes by them \ And what is to be expected 
irooi the advancing such to rule and dignity ? Will they respect equity, 
or faithfully administer justice ? Will they dispense the law with 
candor, and equally nuiintain truth, between man and roan? Nay, 
Wili they not notoriously pervert judgment, and have their eyes blinded 
with bribes? And make the saddest jumble and medley of ahairs, from 
which nothing, but general confusion and mischief, shall ensue? For, 
when the wicked bear rule, the city moumeth ; and the most dread* 
ful comets do not so certainly presage future calamities, as the preferring 
vicious men to places of eminence and government. And yet this mis* 
chief is caused by nothing more visibly, than the frequent varying the 
lerms of getting into employment, which is a grievance, that calls 
loudly for redress. 

V. Another mischief of vast consideration, that the imposing of oaths 
effects, is, that they do exceedingly tend to the farther widening of 
the s e woeful differences, already, far too notorious ; when the preju* 
dices of discording parties are heightened by the intervention of an 
oath, What hope is there left remaining of the possibility of a recon* 
dilation? This fixes Af*h^x*^M^f an unpassible gulf between them; 
and the breaches, that might have been cemented before, are hereby 
lendered irreparable. This is a compendious way to shut the door 
against all peace, and to make our wranglings and contentions endless: 
Even the more modera te and cooler tempers are hereby inflamed to the 
heighth of bigotry ; and their alienations wax so inveterate, that they 
can no longer listen to any proposals of a pacification. So that it may, 
with great probability, be averred, that it is the bandying of oaths to 
and fro, to which we owe all the bitter contests, that have been managed 
with such implacable hatred ; it may confidently bo affirmed, they had, 
at least, otherways never been so fierce. For, with whatever indififer- 
ence, persons may respect the opposite parties, before they be engaged ; 
yet when once they are drawn in, by a solemn stipulation, the support 
of the faction is made the object of their zeal, and it stands then 
on their reputation, to assert the necessity, just or unjust, of what they 
are sworn to maintain. And then, at all rates, down with their adver* 
saries; and nothing, short of slaughter and destruction, is breathed out 
against all that shall dare to question the certainty of the articles they 
have embraced, however doubtful these propositions sometimes appeared 
to themselves. And then, What more si*asonable charity, than to ab- 
stract the foment from these accursed divisions, by prohibiting those 
oaths, that add fuel to our fiames, and perpetuate our janglings? For 
ao it might be hoped, that, in a little time, our unnatural heats would 
die out, and more of mutual forbearance and brotherly kindness should 
Mptmg up amongst us; our animosities would giadually decay, when 
to great a cause of distinction were removed ; and men, by becoming 
SBOxe disinterested, would be more impartial in their disquisitions for 
truth : and, prejudices being laid aside, they would, with greater 
fiteedom of spirit, embrace that, wherever they found it. Thus, the 
Bsists of error might be dispelled and vanish ; and that pur<; and uo« 

▼OL« XII* ^ 


defiled religion, which is pencoable, full of mercy, ami good fruits, and 
without partiality, should shine in its true glory; and our Zion might 
yet rise in her native bceuty and splendor, become a peaceable and 
prosperous habitation, the joy and praise of the whole earth. Let ma 
here but briefly mention, that theso distinguishing oaths do often make 
fotal rebounds upon the authors of them. Aroilcar made Hamiibai 
iwear at the altar of his Gods, that he should never make peace with 
the Romans ; and his wars, at last, terminated in the final overthrow, 
the utter excision of Carthage. 

VL The dispensing with publick oaths would go a wofiderous in- 
credible length, towards the removing of those commotions and dm* 
lurbances, that are of such pernicious consequence to human societiei^ 
and to instate us in the blissful possession of the profoundest peace* 
There can be no greater security to any government, than its being eatj 
and gentle ; thb takes off the asperity of men's minds, drives out what- 
ever grudges, and cuts off all pretensions for sullen murmurs and corn* 
plaints. It has a sweet force, sufficient to conquer any resistance, to 
reconcile all tractable generous tempers, and carries a power in it able 
to charm the most obstinate. When there is nothing left for men to 
object. What fears or jealousies can be entertained of plots or cod« 
spiracies, to undermine that settlement, that every body enjoys such 
desired contentment under? It creates mutual confidence and assart 
ance in rulers and people, and, of all things, does the ihost to make the 
one quiet, and the other safe; whereas rigorous harsh impositions make 
the spirits ferment, and beget corrupt humours, that do break out into 
dangerous eruptions in the body poiiticic, and hurl the world into con« 
fusions; the depraved infirm flesh shrinks under what is afilictive, has 
aversions to the cross, and can with difficulty be induced, by all tht 
rhetorick of heaven, either to take it up, or bear it; when ic is loaded 
with what is grievous, it frets and storms, and is apt to stick at nothing 
that may disburden it. Ill blood can hardly, by any means, hi 
sweetened, and, where cholcr predominates, no authority of any laws, 
divine or human, can repress it. Now all ground of such dangeroui 
discontent is taken off, by forbearing whatever can be judged severe, by 
laying aside such discriminating tests, as factious seditious men make 
occasions of disquieting the world; and, were every such thing dis« 
pensed with, this mild usage could not but shame men into good* 
nature; and a peaceable disposition, and a happy deliverance from all 
tumults and molestations, must needs be the certain consequent of not 
leaving men the least shadow of a foundation to quarrel on. 

Were these few things seriously pondered, and sincere honest designs 
of advancing n*ligion and virtue entertained in the breasts of men, it 
might, with some ccMifidence, be hcpi»d, that they would chearfuUy 
concur to remove what is aticiultd with such manifest inconveniencos, 
and, by the disuse of which, so many sii^nal advantages should be 
obtained. What rank of men is he to be numbered in, who will needs 
pertinaciously adhere (o what he plainly observes to be the source and 
origin of so many woeful guilts and calamities ? Duth he fear God, or 
love virtue^ who would not banish away what, ha must needs know. 


Qod does hate, and will punish ? And who is he, who, under a lively 
sense of ihe divine justice and holiness, dares think of patronising the 
custom of swearing contrary oaths, whereby the omnipotent God is most 
grievously offended, and which ripens for the most frightful destruction, 
and for which God's judgments are already so visibly abroad in the 
earth ? Has he any zeal for the honour of God, who is not concerned 
for the profane contempt cast upon his holy name ? Doth he wish tho 
thriving and prosperity of the publick, that would not prevent the occa^ 
•ion of a sin, that must needs undo and ruin it ? Would to God I 
were able to say any thing on this head, that might awake and call up 
men's thoughts, rouse their attentions, and set them in earaest a think- 
ing, as under the all-seeing eye of God, whether what has been said 
deserves any regard from them ; and what every one's bound duty may 
require from him, in his several station and capacity. Would men be so 
just to their Maker, so kind to themselves, as to be persuaded to com- 
pare the advantages and disadvantages of either side, and to chuse the 
good and refuse the evil, one might promise soon to hear it become the 
general cry, the common supplication, *No more swearing ! No more 
poblick oaths !' that, by their interfering, must needs be, of all things 
on earth, the most full of terror, the most full of guilt and danger* 

But whatever the advantages, the complying with the design of this 
attempt might be attended with, it is not to be doubted, but it will 
meet with fierce enough opposition (as indeed all healing overtures have 
ordinarily the fate to be treated with the bitterest spite and contradic- 
tion) and, upon various accounts, may have black enough colours laid 
upon it. 

Some will be enemies to it, from the apprehension of the private loss 
and damage that themselves in particular might sustain, by the suc- 
ceeding of any such proposal. This might possibly, they will think, 
make changes, and so they, who are in the present enjoyment 
of any gainful posts, might be disseized, and others made to reap 
the profits; and therefore such, no doubt, will furiously malign and 
resist. But, if they be virtuous persons, and demean themselves as 
men of merit and sufficiency for the trust they enjoy, there is no reason 
for them to set themselves, on this account, against what might be of 
good use to the community, for nothing could more secure men of worth 
and merit ; but, if they be of another stamp, it were a general blessing 
to have them removed ; and one of the greatest benefits, such an altei^ 
ation should effect, would be the turning out vicious, insufficient, and 
scandalous men; And what harm could con>e by their fall? But, 
whatever endeavours any persons, on such accounts, may use, to 
oppose a puhlick good, it ought not to be neglected, to gratify the 
ambition or covetousness of private men; for woe to that self-seeking, 
that wishes to thrive upon the publick ruin. 

But others will be ready vehemently to exclaim against any such dis- 
pensation, as being injurious to the supreme power; it being highly 
leatonable that all fullest assurance should be taken of the subject, for 
the preservation and security of the government; And how shall any »o» 
Tereign expect fidelity, where it is not faithfully promised ? This is, I 
mmkmf the most material plea that can be opposed to what it now 



reasoned for ; and truly, if the safety of the government eould be tof^ 
ficif nlly provided for, and obtain any sure warrandice from menft vow* 
ing fealty, it might appear a crime to lift a lip against, or return aoy 
answer to this objection; it being most just that they sbould, in tltt 
name of God, engage, not only not to do them harm themaelvet, but 
take all possible care, and use their utmost, most faithful endeavonn^ 
that none should be done them by others ; but then, what they to nii» 
dertake, they ought to adhere to, to their lives end. But, alas i when 
nothing is eflectuated by any such means, when daily experience 
vinceth us, that all this produces nothing but the blackest, most 
guilt, what ground in the world is there to require or impose onth% 
that men make no conscience of observing; and which only tend to 

Srofane the dreadful name of God, to contemn and provoke the divine 
iajesty, and to treasure up a greater stock of wrath against the land f 
For, in a few words, it may be made plain, to a demonstration, that, in 
the present corruption of the world, publick oaths are absolulely of nQ 
benefit, or use imaginable : For he, whose principles or interest bind 
him to a party, or establishment, will be stedfast thereto, without the 
intervention of an oath. But, if a man swears against bis prindpM 
and interest, no snch tic will bind him ; ten* thousand such oaths shall 
never hold him fast, nor does he think himself obliged to continue firm 
to them : but, on the contrary, the grating sense of what he judges 
himself to have trespassed in will powerfully draw, and move him to 
make the best reparation he is able, for the wrong step be has taken ; 
whence, it evidently appears wholly vain to expect any security to the 
publick, by the interposition of oaths. 

But the roost implacable enmity will arise, from those who are of 
that envious temper, as to grudge the least ease to tender consciences. 
This, it is true, is of so black a dye, and speaks such a hellish dispo- 
sition, as will find few or none, that will make open profession of it; 
for this were barefacedly to vouch themselves cruel persecutors. But 
yet it is shrewdly to be suspected, there are not wanting men of that 
malevolent nature, as would find a torment in any favour granted to 
those whom they bear no kindness to, and take a particular compla* 
cency in whatever may afflict or ensnare them, than which there can 
be no quality more contrary to the spirit of Christianity; for this is to 
please one's self with that which is the satisfaction of the devils, who 
are delighted with the miseries and ruins of men ; and the nearest re- 
semblance, and most lively portraiture of a devil, is an invidious 
nature, that wishes, or contrives what is hurtful and prejudicial to 
another. And then, wherever any thing of this spirit is discern- 
ible (as, alas! a very superficial scrutiny may too easily discover it) 
all that have learned Christ must own themselves bound to con- 
4roul it. 

I cannot foresee any thing farther, worth noticing, that this overture 
can be charged with ; and, therefore, would men, without biass, apply 
themselves to spend some serious thoughts about it, it b hardly to be 
supposed it could meet with any resistance from sober, pious, and well* 
disposed persons ; for. Is there not a God and is not he the avenger of 
sin? And can any man, who believes his being, reckon it indiffMrent, 


whether his great and dreadful name be reverenced or blasphemed ? 
and, doth not the religious observance, or profane violation of our pro- 
missory oaths amount to all this ? For, let any impartial man narrow- 
ly examine the importance of those diversified oaths that have been im- 
posed, and let him try this act of reconciling the terms if he can ; and, 
by the time that he has a while employed his thoughts, as in God's 
presence, about them, he may come to conceive a difference betwixt 
him that sweareth, and him that feareth an oath. The very heathens 
had always the greatest tenderness and regard for their oaths, whereof 
abundant instances might be given : And shall they seem to lose their 
sacredness amongst those who are called Christians ? God forbid ! and 
yet, what esteem can he be thought to hold them in, who swears in-* 
compatible inconsistent things ? What can it be to take the name of 
the Lord in vain, if this be not it? And is not it a frightful impiety, 
first to take them, and then to break them? And what must it needs 
be to require, to urge, and force them ? That is what may exact men's 
most attentive consideration ; every one, who has a due care of his soul, 
will be studious to examine himself in this ? Men will find it dread- 
ful, appearing before Christ's tribunal » to answer, not only for their 
own personal sins, but for the guilts of others which they have caused* 
And, if there was any specifick kind of sin, which I did more espe- 
cially dread the danger of, that I were to put up my most earnest suit 
to God, to be kept from,* as being of the most atrocious provoking na- 
ture ; I think I should not much mistake in my condescensions, if my 
most hearty prayer, when I shall at last stand before the dread judg^ 
ment-beat of Christ, were, ' O God, I pray more particularly, that I 
never be found guilty of the most horrid sin of perjury.' Think what 
the character of a perjured person is, in the common verdict of man- 
kind, and even in the estimate of our own laws! And is the sin so black 
and scandalous, when it is personal ; and is it less so, when it is na* 
tional? No, certainly it is not ; for it is such a most formidable piece 
of wickedness, such a horrid crime, a piaculum, as may well be judged 
to forfeit ihe divine protection, and leave a people and nation, guilty of 
it, open to all the rage and malice of the devil, to be hurried on by 
him, at his pleasure, from sin to sin, till they fill up the measure of 
their iniquity, and the wrath of God come upon them to the uttermost ; 
and therefore, to this purpose, most applicable is the admonition of St* 
James, wherewith 1 shall conclude, *' but, above all things, my bre« 
tbrcn, swear not." 


( sss ) 





Against the most horrid Proceedings of a rebellious Party of Parlia* 
ment-roen and Soldiers in England, against their King and Countiy. 
1 ranslated out of French by P. B. 

Lewis the rourtcenth, by the Grace of God, the most Christian King of 
France and Navarre, to all Christian Kings, Princes, States, aod- 
People scndeth greeting. 

WHEREAS we are informed, by our dear aunt, the queeu of Eng« 
land, of the distressed estate of the king her husband, forced 
V{>on him by a rebellious party of his meanest subjects, under the com- 
mand of the Baron of Fairfax, who is likewise countenanced by a 
tmall handful of the basest of the people, crept into the lower house of 
parliament, but not being a tenth part thereof, the worthiest being 
either imprisoned, or banished by the tyranny of the army, have a de- 
sign to proceed against the person and life of their king; which \h an 
action so detestable, and so destructive to the national rights of prina'S 
and people, who are like to be enslaved thereby, and to know no law, 
but that of the sword, that we conceive ourself obliged, by the laws of 
God and man, in the duty of a christian, as well as the rights of a 
king, either to redeem from bondage the injured person of our neigh- 
bour king and uncle, or to revenge all outrages already done, or here- 
after which may happen to be done thereupon. 

Therefore, with the advice of our dear mother the queen-regent, and 
council, we do publish and declare our detestation of all such pro- 
ceedings, and vow, in the presence of God and his holy angels, a full 
revenge upon all actors or abettors of this odious design, to the utter 
extirpation of them, their wives, and children out of all parts of Chris- 
tendom, wherein our power, or interest, can prevail, if they proceed 
to this damnable fact ; we conceiving it fit to root out from human so- 
ciety such a spurious and viperous generation of men : And we do 
therefore prohibit all such persons, their wives, and children to come 
into any of our dominions, unless they will be proceeded against, as. 
traitors to God and nations. 

And we do likewise invite all our neighbour kingSi princes, and states 
in amity with us, or with whom we have any difference, to an honour- 
able peacci that we may all joio; in God s cause and our own^ to re- 


venge these hypocritical proceedings of enraged villains, who, we bear, 
take the cause of Go<i for their pretence to destroy his ordinance. 

And we desire all our neighbour kings, princes, and states to makt 
the same proclamation, we have done, against any of these, or their 
adherents, from coming into their territories; that, when, by God's 
justice, and ours and others endeavours, they shall be chaced out of 
their native country, they may wander like vagabonds, in heathenish 
places, with the odious brands of regicides upon them : And further to 
consider, whether that, if the like madness took any of their armiesy 
they would not implore our helps, as now thid afflicted queen and aunt 
of ours hath occasion to do theirs, against persons who are now twice 
rebels ; first, against their lawful sovereign, upon pretence of reformat 
tion of government ; and, now, against the very men and authorityy 
which raised them for that pretended occasion: Wherein God's justice 
is so apparent, that we are confident he will bless this work intended by 
us, and which, we hope, will be seconded by all persons of honour and 
justice, both at home and abroad, to help to suppress these rebels 
against their raisers ; who yet presume, upon the success of their arms, 
to erect their own base thoughts and fortunes above the limits of reli- 
gion or reason, to suppress that authority which God hath set gver 

Signed, LEWIS. 

And below, Bryan, Secretary of State, 

Published at Paris, the second day of January, 

Stylo novo, ]649* 





Tog(?lher with the Qualifications required in a good Member of Parlia- 
ment. Offered to the Consideration of all Electors of Pariiament* 

Qaarto, coDtaioing eight Paget. 


1 SUPPOSE nobody has forgot, thai, at the beginning of the rerolu* 
tioD, io the act which was made for declaring the rights of the sub» 



ject, after the grievances reckoBed up, it says, That for redress of all 
grievanc«^y and for the amending, strengthening, and pmerving of tko 
law, parliaments ought to be held frequently, which must mean fi«- 
qucnt parliaments, and not frequent sessions of the same parliament 
or our constitution is but little amended by that act. Our ancestofs 
understood the necessity and wisdom of having frequent parlieaieuts, 
Alfred, as you may see in the Mirrour of Justice, chap. i. sect. 3. or> 
doined, that the parliament should meet every year twice, or oftener, if 
nec^ were. There arc many statutes in Edward the Third's time, that a 
parliament should be held once a year, and oftener, if need be. Thai 
act is no less than three times reiterated in his reign. Acts of the same 
import arc made in Richard the Second's ; and these acts were nadt 
when prorogations, and long continuances of the same parliaments, were 
not in use. Henry the Sixth's reign was the first in which prorogations 
began at all to be made for any time, and they were but very little used 
Mil Henry the Eighth's time. But the usual way formerly was to call 
a parliament, at least once, a year, and, as soon as their business WM 
d')ne, to dissolve them. They adjourned themselves for some short timey 
but the king did not prorogue at pleasure. That this was the constant 
practice, I appeal to the parliament rolls; but I do not so much doaC 
upon antiquity, as to desire to revive that practice, unless I can prcfwt 
it reasonable and advantageous. I think it is very much so in the pre- 
sent juncture. I cannot be unknown to K. W. how much he has been 
lit>elled, because so many of his ofl^cers were in the house. Those, that 
wish him ill, have hit the blot: But it has disgraced him with those 
that wish him well. It is fit the king should chusc whomsoever he 
thinks fit to serve him in his employments ; but it will be a matter of 
scandal, if the people think their representatives are bought off, whether 
by places, or pensions. But, if they are chosen annually, it will not 
easily be believed, that an unfair bargain can be struck with them. Our 
taxes will be less heavy, whilst we think our representative assessors pay 
their proportion. How just the clamours and suspicions of mankind 
are, I do not determine, but I know they are great, and by every body, 
and every where believed, and that by this course they would be avoid- 
ed. If the accusations are well grounded, if votes are purchased by 
places, or most of the members should be more than ten times reim- 
bursed their own shares of the publick payments; then indeed the safe- 
ty, and very being, of our constitution would be struck at, our funda« 
mentals would be debauched, our house of commons would become a 
parliament of Paris, to do as the court would have them, and nothing 
but what they direct ; Scotch lords of the articles would be, as it were, 
introduced by a court cabal ; and membership would become a pre- 
ferment for life, &c. But whatever the malicious say, lam not will* 
ing to believe these things have of late, or will be attempted. I am only 
desirous that it should be made apparent for the future, in every pai^ 
liamcnt that sits, that there is no likelihood that it is debauched, and 
that will be made apparent by annual parliaments. But, to lay aside 
the peculiarity of our present case, let me treat of it under a gener^ 
consideration. And I will endeavour to shew the expediency of annual 
parliaments ; and that I shall endeavour to make good by the nature o^ 


parliamffits, and of their delegations ; bj which it appeare, that th« 
members are delegaled by their electors, to sapply their places, in ad- 
vising, treating, consulting, and determining upon the great and import* 
ant affairs of the nation, which appear, and are npon the stage, in that 
juncture wherein the parliament is summoned. When such a parlia- 
ment is continued longer than answers the present occasion for which 
they were summoned, great inconveniences may, and are likely to fol- 
low. A man may be fit to represent me in one juncture, whom I 
might very reasonably judge unfit to do it in another. A man may be 
qualified to advise, consult, and determine about the improvement of 
trade, and the manufactures of the nation; and yet may be unfit to 
ofkr advice in the great affairs of peace and war. A man may have 
knowledge enough to act in such matters, who may want integrity, 
faithfully to represent, and procure redress for grievances, which will 
be springing up in any government. When parliaments are annually 
chosen, we can chuse our representatives, with an eye to the present 
circumstances of affairs, and the present exigencies of the nation. But, 
when the same parliaments are continued upon us, we are put upon the 
unrtasonable task, of proplictically ch using men fit to represent ut 
amidst the unforeseen and unexpected accidents and affairs which may 
fell in, so long as the prince and his ministers think fit to continue t)ie 
parliament then summoned. Besides, when the business of the nation 
has been, as it were, monopolised for many years, then, whensoever we 
have the opportunity of electing a new parliament, we are put upon the 
same necessity of chusing a knave skilful in the rules of the house and 
pariiamentary laws, as we are sometimes in private matters of chusing 
one that is expert in pleadings, and the methods of the common law, 
though we are not satisfied of his moral honesty ; whereas, if every- 
body had their turn, in a little time, all the principal freeholders wottla 
be instructed, and directed in the interest of their country. 

Again : Delegation imports, in its own nature, a power in the per* 
son, or persons, who delegate, to revoke it at his, or their pleasure, and 
can be continued no longer than during the time, and particular occsf^ 
sions for which it is granted ; and is understood to be no longer in bo 
ing, than the constituents think fit to continue it. And delegates are 
always upon their good behaviour. When parliaments are not annually 
chosen, but continued during the prince's pleasure, longer than the 
present exigency for which they are called, the nature of a delegation^ 
and the undoubted privileges of those that chuse them, arc quite al- 
tered and overturned, and the delegation is perpetuated ; though it 
should appear that the delegates are unfit for it, or unfaithful under it^ 
From delegates, whom we oureelves have impowered, 'they become abso- 
lute masters; or, if delegates still, they are transformed from being the 
people's delegates and representatives, into the prince's delegates and crea- 
tures. By every repeated t)rorogation the people^s commission is can- 
celled, and their new being is derived from the prince's will and plea- 
sure, and measured out, and continued, according to their humble 
compliance with what is demanded from them. 

Again: Annual parliaments are best suited to a limited monarcfiy 
(which I hope all Englishmen think the best) fumual parliaments con? 


tribute most to the ease, safety, and glory of the prince, as well as im 
the security and happiness of the subject. By annual parliaments, a 
confidence is begotten betwixt the prince and the peo))le; the prince 
can scarce demand that, which the people will refuse, when the people 
have a confidence in him, and nothing) contributes so much towards that 
confi<lence as annual parliaments. I again say, they remove all the 
jealousies which pK>ple retain of having their representatives debauch- 
ed, which will be suspected when parliaments are continued ; they are 
a curb upon designing ministers, who, for selfish and sinister ends, may 
be for endeavouring to embroil the king and his people, and many times 
have proved very uneasy and ruinous to princes. They remove griev* 
ances before they get to such an height as to pinch the people so hard, 
as to occasion such loud and unmannerly complaints, as have many 
times obliged princes, from a mistaken point of honour, to refuse their 
redress ; and so have engaged them in unnecessary disputes with the 
people, which have lessened the figure, glory, and power of some of our 
princes, both here at home, and amongst their neighbours, more 
than any other thing in the world. Whereas, when a king of England 
does meet his people in parliaments annuaNy chosen, he may reasona- 
bly expect to find them fraughted with fresh desires to unite him 
closer with his people, to assure him of their confidence and affectioUi 
and to give him earnest of it, and fix him in the heighth of. power, re* 
putation, and glory. For a king of England, encircled with a confid- 
ing parliament, is then, in his imperial lustre, more glorious than any 
monarch of the east; then he infallibly becomes the terror of his foes, 
the stay and support of his friends, and the joy, comfort, and darling 
of his people. 

As to the people, the continuing of the same parliament is a mora 
fiital, and likely to be a more successful way to blow up all our liber- 
ties, than either quo warranto^ regulations, or any other methods prac- 
tised in the two last reigns, of which we complained so loudly, and 
with so much justice. A prince may more certainly bribe, than quo 
warranto, or regulate parliaments. The nation will be awakened at 
those irregular steps: But a king may seem to proceed according to 
form, when he continues that parliament which he has made pension- 
ers. King Charles the Second was his arts-master in this point : He 
was no enemy to a long parliament, whilst he had a long list of 
many of their names, of whom a certain great man can give a good 

It will add weight to what I said, if we find it the practice of the 
greatest, wisest, and most renowned nations, to make provision for the 
frequency and rotation of their dyets and parliaments. And that the 
most glorious and victorious princes of those nations have met most 
frequently with their people in parliament. I shall not instance from 
our own history; I suppose no Englishman ignorant how frequently our 
Edwards and Henries put a stop to the course of their victories to meet 
their people in parliament. Have not the people of Spain made most 
careful provisions for the frequent meeting of their states, with securi- 
ties and cautions peculiar to themselves, and much more exact than 


what other nations can pretend to ? And have not the greatest and 
jDost victorious of their kings been the readiest to enlarge their phvt- 
ItgjSBf and most exact in observing them ? Their Sanchoes, their Hen- 
lies, their Ferdinands^ and their Charles's were as careful of meeting 
tiieir people in their dyets, as of subduing and conquering their ene- 
jnies: And it is observable, that King Charles, who was most exact in 
meeting his people frequently, raised the monarchy of Spain to itf 
highest pitch of strength and glory ; and his son PhiUp, who offered at 
a despotick power, and abhorred the meeting of his people, did first 
eclipse the glory of that monarchy, and threw it into that decay and 
consumption, under which it laboureth to this day. Did not th« 
French nation, upon their conquest of, and settlement in Gaul, now 
France, establish the frequent meeting of their states ? And the roost 
Yictorious of their princes have been most exact in meeting of their peo- 
ple, oftener than annually, as may be instanced in their Clovis, their 
Pepin, Charlemagne, and the successors of Hugh Capet for several ages. 
And though Lewb the Eleventh, and most of his successors, have en- 
deavoured to suppress the states, and rendered that monarchy despo- 
ticky yet it has furnished ground for so many commotions, tumults, 
leagues, and rebellions, as have not only frequently put a stop to the 
course of their victories, but unravelled all their successes ; and the 
subjects have many times returned with interest the incroachment of 
their princes upon their liberties, and reduced that monarchy to the 
last gasp ; and the struggles of the people of France, and parliament 
of Paris, during the minority of this present king, to recover their lost 
liberties, joined with many other instances which their history affordSy 
do plainly demonstrate the tottering and dangerous condition of all de- 
spotick governments. Again : What miseries, and unspeakable calami- 
ties, was Germany exposed to ; full of civil wars and discords within, 
by the competition of princes for the empire ; harrassed and depopu- 
lated from without by the Hungarians, Sclavonians, Vandals, and 
Danes; to all which no remedy could be found, but by the establishing 
of frequent and annual dyets, by the Golden Bull in Charles the 
Fourth's time? wherein the absent princes, imperial cities, and Hans 
Towns, who send their deputies, take especial care ofchanging the deputies 
every dyel, lest they should be bribed, and gained by the imperial mi- 
Aisters. By this wise provision for frequent dyets, pc*ace was settled at 
home, competition of titles for the Imperial dignity was extinguished, 
foreign invasions repressed, and the whole body preserved in health and 
rigour. In a word, their annual dyets were an invincible barrier against 
the inundation of the Turks on the one side, and the incroachments of 
the French on the other. And it is that only which has preserved them 
from being swallowed up betwixt those two troublesome neighbours. 
I do omit to instance from Holland, Switzerland, and Poland, which 
have hitherto been preserved invincible, by the frequent assemblies of 
their states. 

Now I have briefly delivered my thoughts for annual parliaments; 
g$ve me leave to set down what I think the great and indispensable cha- 
racter or qualifications of a parliament-man ; and they art these, scnsci 
courage, and integrity. 


Seme has divert acceptations ; but that scnse^ that is required to Ca- 
pacitate a roan for serving usefully within those walls, is not the learn- 
ing of universities, but the knowledge of England. A sense of liberty^ 
of what is meant by our rights and properties: A sense of our lawi 
•nd interest, of the nature of our government, of our trade, of oar 
natural strength and welfare. It cannot be denied, but that the com* 
paring of the histories of other nations, the reading over the systems of 
policy, and the lives of the great and exemplary patriots of liberty ia 
•11 countries, mightily enlarge their understandings, and adorn tho 
great speakers in that assembly; but, if a man has not reduced all that 
to the use of this island, he has not the sense requisite for this post. If 
fcis head is never so full of the ideas of foreign constitutions, if he is not 
wise as to our home matters ; if he has trav<>lied never so far for expo* 
sience; if he is a stranger to the isle of Britain ; he may make a loqua- 
cious politician, a florid orator, a statesman in speculation, but be wiU 
never make a venerable member of our parliament. A man that un- 
derstands but well our English manufactory, the natural products of 
•our country, the balance of merchandizing, what imptirtations and ex^ 
portations are to be prohibited or encouraged, what are the grievancet 
the people complain of, which of them are reasonable to be redresaed, 
and what are the proper methods of doing it; he that knows how much 
tre can give, what is fit to be given, and can examine bow what we have 
given is laid out, is more fully qualified for our senate-house, than if 
lie could discourse of government, better than all those learned men, 
%irho pretend so nicely to understand and distinguish the several sorts f 
If the countries and corporations have any thing particular, in relation 
to their counties and corporations to be represented, they ought to chuse 
-one that understands the nature of what they would have represented, 
^fi that is at least capable of being throughly instructed in that mat- 
ter. But at the same time that they chuse one for their particular pur. 
pote, they ought to consider that he votes for the whole common- 
wealth, and therefore they must not chuse any man that is addict- 
ed only to their interest, but should always deliberate whether he 
it of a publick and universal spirit, as well as a proper advocate for 
them. But this will come in more properly, when I speak concerning 

The next qualification is courage. Although the word Parliament 
tignifies to speak fret^ly the mind, and though liberty of speech is al- 
ways granted to all parliaments, yet courage is necessary upon many 
accounts ; it is often necessary to withstand the frowns of a prince ; it 
is necessary to bear a man above popular clamour ; it is necessary when 
peace and war is debated. There has scarce been any reign wherein 
the princes have not hectored some of the members : There is scarce 
any sessions, but arts are used to stir up the people against their own 
interest; and, if a parliament house, upon the noise of a war, should 
be seized with a panick fear, the whole nation would soon be dispirit- 
ed ; so that it is necessary to have courage to preserve his own inte- 
grity, and to uphold the hearts of those that he represents. 

Again, whoev^ would discharge the office of a good tenator, must 


have integrity that is proof against gain, against fear and soUicitatiom 
If he can be aifrighted, or bribed, or over*ruied out of his own sense of 
things, be is not Bt for that place. Preferments may he added to^ but 
must not change the man. Threats must make him more watchful and 
lesolute, and he roust be sure to distinguish between insinuation and 
argument. He roust consider himself as a publick man ; he must not 
know his own interest, or the interest of the pUce from whence he 
comes. When the general good of England comes in competition, he 
must consider himself as well, and more the representative of England 
than of that county or town for which he serves: But, when 1^ has 
considered the national interest, then in gratitude and duty he is to 
consider the interest of the body of the electors, more than his own private 
advantage ; he is to strip himself of all relation, and to be a kin to the 
cemmonwealth . His soul must soar up into the exalted height of an he- 
rokal virtue, and he is to believe that it is a plcasmeable and noble en- 
joyment even to sacrifice himself and aU private considerations for his 
coantry ; he is to lay aside ail private capacities, and, as it were, to 
tmnsmigrate into a publick alliance and aSnity, Ciim cmlcuks sugfragio" 
rmmsumertt magnanmitaitm rdfuUkct^ as Demosthence used to advise 
the people of Athens in great causes of estate: He used to advise, that, 
"when they took into their hands the balb, whereby to give their voices 
(according to the manner then in practice at Athens) they should raise 
their thoughts, and lay aside those considerations, which their private 
vocations and degrees might minister and represent unto them ; and 
should take upon them cogitations and minds agreeable to the dignity 
of the state : And there is good reason for this advice ; for, certainly, 
if a man shall be only or chieBy sensible of those respects which his 
particular vocation or degree, or the state of the county or town which . 
sends him, shall suggest and infuse into him, and not enter into true 
and worthy considerations of estate, he shall never be able aright to 
give or take counsel in parliamentary affairs, in the business of the se- 

The notion of integrity has been too much mistaken of late. The 
being of a particular church or party has christened men honest ; and 
in this last parliament pretending to be for king William, has gained 
those that epithet, who never understood a king as the father of his 
country ; who make his political capacity above the laws of men, if I 
may not say the laws of God too. Integrity, in the monarchy of Eng- 
land, implies more of a national than slavish spirit, more of common 
care than personal adoration ; and it is sad to think, that any knave 
can redintegrate his reputation, only by being a Williamite, without 
being converted to an Englishman. Those cannot be thought (let 
them be as much Williamites as they will) to preserve the integrity of 
a parliament-man, who change or stifle their principles for a place; 
nor can those be thought fit members for that house, who, either for 
their pleasure, or private business, neglect coming up to town, no 
more than those who have so many offices, that they can scarce peep 
within those doors, or who are so lazy and loitering, that they come 
not till it is too late to hinder thcro, and so suffer the nation to be 


circumvented by the artifices and tricks of the conrt, who alwa^rt 
set them on foot, when the house is empty. I would have my coun- 
trymen beware (if ever they chuse again) of these self-interested and 
careless men. They ought, now their All is at stake, to examine how 
their members have behaved themselves, whether they have been ten- 
der of the liberty of our persons, frugal of our fortunes, bold against 
male administration, prosecutors of crimes, and not persecutors oC 
men. Sense, courage, and integrity are necessary to make a man be- 
have himself as he ought, in these important points. Let them chuse 
no MAN that has not sense, courage, and integrity, or that will not 
receive their instructions. There are no counties, and few towns, 
wherein they do not understand the interest of their country enough 
to give general instructions. Let me recommend those to them I 
have hinted at in this paper ; order them to bring in bills to regulate 
the militia, to encourage the use of firelocks amongst the populace, 
to increase our navy, to reduce all our part of the war to that navy ; 
to settle such salaries upon the judges as may make them impar- 
tial : And, above all things, order them to bring in a bill to secure 
annual parliaments, and the elections of members for the future. 
Advise them to ransack all our own records, and to consult all the 
several governments upon that head. Chuse but once wise and honest 
brave men, and they will find expedients to avoid the disputes, and 
baffle the arts which have rendereid elections pre-carious and illegal. 
They will find methods to be too hard for court-tricks, and spend- 
thrift competitors. Chuse no man that is not willing to be instruct- 
ed, you have a right to instruct them: It was the custom former- 
ly to instruct all the members; and the nature of the deputation shews, 
that that custom was well grounded. 

To conclude. Thus have I given my thoughts freely, as to twe 
material points ; viz. the old English right of annual parliaments (for 
a more ample account of which, I must refer my reader to Mr. 
Johnson's essay on that subject) and the qualifications requisite in 
such as represent the good people of England in the lower house; 
which I have done, without regard to any party or interest but that 
of my country. If what I have said shall have any influence on my 
fellow subjects, in the present elections ; and on those that represent 
them when they come together, in order to obtain an act for the ehu* 
sing of parliaments yearly, I shall obtain my utmost aim. 

(«*r ) 

V c 


Ordered to be drawn up and presented to the honourable House at the 

next Session. 

Qasrto, cootainiiig four pa|^. 

A PETITION of the brewers and butchers, that the former may b* 
incorporated with the vintnen, and the latter with the apothe- 

A petition of the bandbox-men and trunk-makers, that the Athenian 
Mercury, and all weekly papers of the like nature, be continued. 

A petition of twenty-thousand tradesmen, that, if their wives offer to 
draw bills more than once a night upon them, they may be impowered 
honourably to reject them. 

A petition of the quack-doctors, that the constables may not disturb 
the industrious night-walkers in the Strand, Fleet-street, and Cheap- 

A petition of Dr. Salmon, and two more of th6 fraternity, that they 
may have the sole benefit of a new religion, by them lately invented; 
and that no other persons presume to interlope upon them. 

A petition of the quakers, that their bare word may be equivalent to 
swearing, and nonsense to true reasoning; and likewise, that it may bt 
lawful for them to fornicate out of their own tribe. 

A petition of all the married women in the kingdom of EngUnd, do* 
minion of Wales, and town of Berwick upon Tweede, that the Dog-dayi 
be immediately repealed. 

A petition of the moderate divines, that the thirtieth of January and 
twenty-ninth of IVlay be discarded out of the almanack, as being great 
•ye-sorcs to the godly party. 

A petition of the maids, that the Mosaical signs of virginity be de- 
clared void and unnecessary, and unfit to be required under thu Christ^ 
ian dispensation. 

A petition of the ribbon- weavers, that shoulder-knots and pantaloom 
•f happy memory be revived. 

A petition of the booksellers to declare, that licensing of books is 
popish and superstitious, and destructive of the liberty of the subject. 

A petition of the inhabitants of White- Friars, that their bounds bt ' 
enlarged, that they may have room enough to receive the broken mer- 
chants and tradesmen, that daily flock in to them. 

A petition of the poets, for a speedy restoration of claret| and thf 
Utter banishment of little diminutive pagan bottles. 


A petition of the midwives and highway-men, that Savin and Hemp 
may be rooted out of the commonwealth. 

A petition of the glasiers and tallow-chandlers, that it may be law« 
ful to break windows, on thanksgiving-days, where no lights ars set 

A petition of Dr. Otes, that every evidence, for the fqtuiv^ shall be 
obliged to repair to him for a license. 

A petition of the prisoners in Newgate, that their confessions aii4 
dying-speeches may not be printed before they are hanged. 

A petition of Dr. Partridge, that no almanack-maker pretend to 
prophesy for the government, but himself. 

A petition of the fiddlers, that kicking down stairs and broken heads 
be reckoned no scandal. 

A petition of the players, that they may be allowed plurality of 
wives, in order to be sure of a maidenhead once in their lives. 
' A second petition of the booksellers, that, when a dull heavy book 
HeB upon their hands, it may be publickly burnt, to promote the sale 
of it. 

A petition of Bully Dawson, and the rest of his brethren, that swear- 
ing and roaring be adjudged as effectual a sign of valour, as fighting. 

A petition of several young gentlemen of the inns of court, that a 
•tatue be erected to Dr. Wall, at the publick charge. 

A petition of the northern attornics, for a speedy conclusion of the 
war, because, at present, the people cannot spare money to go to 

A petition of the harlots, that pluralities be denied to all married 
women, of what degree or quality soever. 

A petition of the coffee-houses, that they may be privileged in fomi* 
cation up stairs, and for treason and false news below.' 

A petition of the country parsons, that, in favour of them, the 
house will be pleased to take off the additional duty upon tobacco. 

A petition of the city clergymen's daughters, that increase and mul* 
tipfy be made the eleventh commandment. 

A petition of the knights of the post, that all the pillories in the king- 
dom be burnt on the next thanksgiving-day. 

A petition of the drawers, about the Temple and Covent-Garden, 
that they may be allowed to lie a-bed till eleven. 

A petition of the Royal Society, that the comb-makers, mouse-trap 
men, and Athenians be suppressed, as interlopers upon them. 

A petition of the chimney-sweepers, that they may have the scour- 
ing of all ecclesiastical consciences, every spring and fall. 

A petition of the city, that none be suffered to talk treason, but such 
as are well-affected to the commonwealth. 

A petition of the College of Physicians, that the importation of Dutch 
doctors be prohibited, as prejudicial to the manufacture of our own 

A petition of the taylors, that leave be given to bring in a long bill to 
promote new fashions. 

A petition of the seamen, that the parsons may not meddle with 
politicks, but every one keep in his own element. 


A petition of the barbers, that they may be made free of the churchy 
since the divines have usurped upon their trade, by turning trimmers* 

A petition of the country inn-keepers, that the soldiers, quartered 
in their houses, would be content to tap their hogsheads, but not their 
wives, or daughters. 

A petition of the dissenting divines, that none shall be admitted into 
that class, but men of strong lungs and stronger backs. 

A petition of the anabaptists, that they may be impowered to erect 
a publick dipping-pond at Lambeth Ferry. 

A petition of the painters, that they may have leave to enter all tha 
conventicles in town, and draw their respective pastors in their proper 

A petition of the waistcoateers of Wapping, that it may be lawful for 
them to go sixteen months with child, in cases of necessity. 

A petition of the printers, that all distinctions of bawdry, blasphemy, 
and treason be utterly abolished. 

A petition of the proctors of the commons to have fornication en* 
couraged, that they may have the sole punishing of it afterwards. 

A petition of the claret-drinkers, that red noses shall qualify people 
for all sorts of preferment. 

A petition of several mayors and aldermen, that money be adjudged 
to comprehend both wit, sense, and good breeding, 

A petition of several recorders in the kingdom, that making of 
speeches be utterly abolished, unless Bulls be tolerated. 

A petition of the ordinary of Newgate, that all sorts of breaking be 
declared sinful, but especially sabbath-breaking. 

A petition of the orphans chat the monument be hung with mourning 
once a year, and that at the cxpcnce of the chamber. 

A petition of the several ladies living near Westminster, that all de- 
serters be brought to condign punishment. 

A petition of the Athenians, that they may have a patent for their 
new invention of making sc-cund-hand Spira's. 

A petition of the parish-clerks, that a day be set a part to celebrate 
the pious memory of Hopkins and Stcrnhold, and that the city poet 
draw up the service for the day. 

And for your worships then we'll pray, 
For eke, lor ever, and for ay. 


( «50) 




Folio, containiiig four pafet. 

Humblji offered to the Honourable the Knights^ Citizens, and Burgasei 

assembled in Parliament. 

TO employ our poor, and advance the trade of the nation, nx% 
matters of great concern at this time. This honnmrable assembly 
are not insensible of the abundance of complaints throughout the king- 
dom in general in most trades, for want of sale for their goods. It if 
supposed there may be five-hundred thousand poor of one sort or other 
in the nation ; and if these poor are to be put to work on the same 
manufactories which we are uver-stocked with already, what will bo 
done with all those goods so many thousand hands shall make more every 
year ? It is but undoing in one place to make another. The merchants 
generally send but very little more to markets abroad one year than 
another; they commonly know what quantities of goods will glut each 
market abroad. Must commodities and manufactories are brought to 
so low an ebb, that slow workmen cannot get their living at their trades, 
and many of such, with their families, are become the poor of the 
parish wherein they are ; yet the slowest of handicraft tradesmen will 
out-do those poor which never wrought before in each trade, if they 
were put into a work-house together; and for any number of persons 
joining together to employ the poor in the woollen manufactories, or 
any other where the price is beat down to so low a rate that the slow 
^vorkmcn cannot mamtain themselves, what those persons gain by such 
poor is by oppressing the oppressed, and the cries of them will rage 
against the kingdom and government, because of the hard usage of 
several of their task-masters for lucre of gain to themselves. The poor 
ought to be encouraged, and mercifully dealt with, and kindly used, 
until their slow hands be brought to ready working, and ought at first 
to have the highest price the commodity will bear to themselves, and their 
overseers, and master-workmen that teach them, be paid by the parish; 
it is suilicient advantage for them if they can in some small time bring 
those poor to maintain themselves, which has been so burthensome to 
them heretofore. But how to set so many hands at work at this time, 
when trade is at to low an ebb, requires great consideration ; and several 


inanufac tones, which at present are manufactured abn)ady must be 
encouraged at home. There are several commodities in this kingdom, 
which cannot be had in any of our neighbouring countries, which ought 
to be wrought up at home ; but we encourage foreign wrought goods to 
be brought here, and send our un wrought goods to our neighbouring 
countries, who manufacture the same. By such methods we may well 
wonder what is become of the trade of the nation, whereby our mer- 
chants arc undersold at markets abroad in those commodities which 
cannot be well had elsewhere but from England ; which, if thoy were 
manufactured at home, and kept amongst our merchants to export, it 
would be an inlet to the selling of several other commodities, \^hich are 
tupphed now by the Dutch, and others of our neighbouring countries* 
But our trade is over-burthened by duties laid on our wiought goods, 
mnd our unwrought encouraged to be expected, with several other 
obstructions too tedious to set forth ; by which the poor tradesmen and 
their families are become a far greater tax to the nation than all that 
the king's customs amount to. 

Likewise in our merchants goods, which are imported and exported 
again in less than a year, are allowed to draw back the duty so formerly 
paid by them, if the property be not altered, by chipping, cutting, 
grinding, garbling, shaving, or rasping, or otherways altering thereof; 
•o that the Dutch and other countries employ their poor, in doing that 
which ours ought to do; by which their merchants serve abundance of 
markets abroad with such goods as we cannot do, because, if the property 
be altered, the draw-back will not be allowed ; which is in several goods 
about twenty-five pounds per cent, which is a great hindrance to tho 
merchant, and quite loses the profit of working the same here. And 
suppose the property should be altered, so that the same be exported 
in time, it would occasion a greater employ of the poor, and it would b« 
no detriment or hindrance to the King in his customs, nor obstruct our 
navigation, and our merchants may serve other countries with thostt 
commodities as well as the Dutch and others. 

The Dutch consider how to employ their poor, and prepare all the 
work they possibly can contrive for them ; and all goods, which are 
capable of labour, they commonly have it done before they will part 
with it; which is the reason they have none but what get their living at 
one thing or other. They employ their poor in rasping dyers woods, 
which they have commonly from us, and serve all markets abroad with 
that commodity, which we cannot do, by reason of that obstruction at 
the custom-house, in not allowing the draw-back where the property 
is altered. And in abundance of other goods too long to insert here. 

The Dutch buy their hemp at Riga, and other places where we buy 
ours ; but tliey employ their people to manufacture the same into sail- 
cloth, and they import it on us, and we, lo encourage them, use it for 
our royal navy, and all our merchants ships, and all other small vessels, 
boys, busses, lighters, and boat-sails; which trade, were it encouraged 
here, would go a great way in the maintenance of our poor, and great 
gain is to be had thereby. We had at first.our woollen manufactory from 
the Dutch, we sold them wool and fuliing-clay, and we took their 
woollen-cloth, and now we take tAcir sail-doth; but after we prohi« 



bited our wool and fuUing-earth from being sent to Holland, and theii 
cloth from coming here, it put our workmen on invention, and in a 
little time we became the famousest at that trade in the world ; and 90 
we might be as well at sail-cloth, were we encouraged, and the Dutch 
discouraged. We ought to contrive all ways to employ our poor, and 
keep within ourselves the working up of all our own commodities; aa 
leather, lead, fulling-clay, wool, copper, Calaminaris, tin, pewter, and 
all other of our own product. The planting of trees is neglected, bj 
which in a little time we shall lose the making of iron and steel, iiit 
refining our brass and other metals, and great part of our lands 1m 
waste and barren, not cleared or tilled, whilst thousands of our people 
want employment, and many thousands hide themselves in obtcurity, 
in places remote from their beings, for fear of arrests, who are not able 
to pay their debts, and would willingly fly any where for refuge. Bad 
debts contracted to relieve some in necessity, and many others in prisoni 
without any satisfaction to the creditor but revenge, and their families 
become chargeable to the parishes wherein they are; many by their 
poverty, are driven to the last extremity, take to ill courses to rob and 
ateai, and our counties sued ; gR^at sums of money paid for appro- 
bending and trying these robbers, and several other great mischief occa- 
sioned by poverty, which is burthensome to the country; which if aU 
matters were computed is more loss to the nation than the charge will 
amount to in clearing most of our barren lands throughout the king- 
dom; and rightly considering, so sure as the people work in clearing 
and tilling the ground, so consequently those lands will be so much 
richer, and what is laid out will bring in again with considerable profit, 
' and inrich the nation. It would be better for the kingdom in general, 
that there were a tax laid on every parish to regulate these great mis- 
chiefs, than to lie under the burthen thereof, without any hopes of 
relief. Therefore this following method is humbly proposed, 

By WUliamGoffe. 


Imprimis, That there be a tax laid on every parish throughout the 
kingdom, according to the poor tax-rate, to be continued for three years, 
and paid quarterly. 

2. That there be six pounds per cent, per annum, allowed to any 
person or persons who shall lend the said three years tax at once, that 
there may be money sufficient to carry on the undertaking. 

3. Near each fishing-port throughout the kingdom, there are com- 
monly barren lands, which may be rented at four pence or six pence^ 
per annum, an acre. 

4. '1 hat a convenient parcel of such lands, near each fishing-poit, 
be rented or purchased at the nation's charge, to erect fishing factories 
on, for si wiiig hemp and fiax, and planting of trees, such as are con- 
▼enient or buUding of ships, faoysy^Qd busses. 


5. That there be some knowing men chosen out of the neighbouring 
parishes, near each of these fishing-ports, to mark out the land into 
parcels, and that they ascertain the price of every acre what the labour 
It worth to clear the same. 

6. That there be a proclamation published throughout the kingdom, 
that all persons that are willing to work in clearing those lands, at the 
price ascertained, shall have ready money for their labour as they con- 
stantly do their work ; and each of them shall have ground given them 
to build a house on free. And all those who are in debt, and do deli- 
ytr up to their creditors all the effects they have, wearing apparel and 
household goods only excepted, shall be protected from being arrested 
or molested from any such debt or debts ; and all tradesmen likewise, 
that are willing to inhabit of settle there on any of the fishing-factorieS| 
ahall be likewise protected. 

7* That these persons shall not be protected at any other place or 
places, but at these fishing-ports or factories, or whilst these persons 
are fishing or selling their fish in any other markets throughout tha 

8. And that whereas, at most of these ports are places, where wool is 
commonly sent away at stealth, and prohibited, and other custom-goods 
privately run a-shore, that any person belonging to these fishing-factories, 
who shall seize any of such goods, shall be allowed one half-part of all 
such goods, to themselves. 

• 9- That, at every of these fishing-ports, there be four fishing-busses 
belonging to each factory, with all nets and other fishing-tackle, pro- 
Tided with the master, and manned with fishermen to teach the people 
to catch fish, and they to be paid first, at the publick charge. And 
all thosi: belonging to these factories, that are willing to go a fishing, 
may every one take their turn each month ; and that two thirds of all 
such fish be divided amongst those who go a fishing; the other third of 
the fish to be sold, and applied towards wear and tear and charges in 
nets and tackle. And, that some of the masters and officers belonging 
to the neighbouring parishes be chosen to take charge of the same, and 
see all things performed. 

10. That, in every of these factories, some of the military officers be 
appointed to discipline these men, every week or fortnight, and they to 
be the governors over these people, at each of these fishing factories; 
the men to be paid by the publick, those days they exercise. 

11. That all the parishes throughout the kingdom do send their 
ablest poor to be employed at these factories; some to dig, plant, and 
till the ground, and the others to be employed to work up the hemp and 
flax, and to make sail-cloth, cordage, nets, twine, lines, and sails; 
the women to spin, and make coarse linnen, 5tc. and, as the profits 
come in by this undertaking, the parish-taxes will abate throughout the 

12. That there be a large work-house, or work-houses, erected at 
every of these fishing-ports, and that there be master- workmen, paid 
tt dbe publick chai^, to teach the people to work, which, in time, 
will teach one another; that these master- workmen be men of know- 
Mge and imdcntaiidipg ia niking of sail-clatbi net^ cordage^ twine 



lines, and nil other necessaries belonging to the fishing^rade. And 
that they do take care, that the people's stock of goods be not em- 
bezzled, and that they do give account to the masters of the neighbour- 
ing parishes, who shall be appointed for that purpose every week, and 
that they be appointed to pay and receive all goods, and to keep the 
stores, and give an account of all rising profits. 

16. That, in every particular sort of work the full current price for 
every thing be ascertained, and that they be allowed a sufficient rale 
for their work, until their slow hands be brought to quick working, for 
afterwards, the price will fall in courso, and those which are become 
used to clearing of lands will take lands of their own accord, and 
clear it to get themselves a livelihood; and so likewise, in fishing, they 
vill in tin^e be able to join together, and go a fishing at their own 
charge, when they find the profit thereof. 

14. To encourage this undertaking, that all the sail-cloth which shall 
be used for the royal navy be wrought up at these workhouses belong- 
ing to these fishing-factories ; and to bring the merchant-men to buj 
theirs, in the nation, the following method is proposed : 

15. That there be a high duty laid on all new sails of foreign-made 
cloth, which shall bo used to any of our English ships, hoys, lighters^ 
busses, boats, or any others ; that the duty be collected at the custom- 
bouse, which will in time hinder merchant-men, and others, from 
bU3ring their sails at markets abroad ; and that all our sail-cloth be 
made with some blue stripe or other mark through every piece. 

16. That all foreign nets be prohibited from being imported, because 
SOW most nets come from France and other parts. 

17. That in every parish throughout the kingdom there be work- 
bouses erected ; and, instead of supplying the poor's necessities with 
money, as now they do, that they be obli<;ed to supply them wiih a 
atock of goods to work up, and let tlum have the lull price for the 
same. It is better for each parish to receive goods, which carry the 
intrinsick value with them, than to lose all the money so gathered every 
year, as they now do. 

18. That all charity-monry, voluntarily given by any person or 
persons to the poor of each parish, be laid out in unwrought goods, 
and equally divided, to every one share and share alike ; and that the 
parish be obliged to take all such goods so made by the poor, and give 
them ready money for the same, or more slock of unwrought goods to 
put them to work again. 

1^. That the poor be most encouraged to work on those commodities, 
which at present are wrought beyond sea, as, sail-cloth, hemp and flax- 
dressing, making of coarse linnen and woollen-cloth, ^c. We ought 
o consider how to force all trades, and how to find as much employ- 
ment for our trades, as possible; therefore it is proposed, 

20. That all foreign hemp and flax be imported duty-free. 

21. That there be a high duty laid on all unwrought lead and tin 

22. That all manufactured lead, or tin, be exported duty-free. 

23. That there be a duty laid on all fulling-eartb, tobacco-pipa 
alayi a|id calaminaris, to be paid at the pit| at so much » yard, o^ 


rod ; and not sufiered to be dug without oath first made, and a certifi- 
cate from the next justice of the peace, of what quantity, and what 
use, and where to be sent, and the duty gathered by those of the parish, 
who collect the King*s tax, &c. For the duty-sake these pits will be 
taken ntitice of, which will hinder the carrying it away by stealth. 

24. That there be a duty laid on all unwrought leather exported. 

25. That all leather, manufactured into shoes, boots, harnesses, &c. 
be exported duty free. 

26\ That all raw silks, cotton, or any other commodities, which are 
useful to employ the tradesmen, imported, may not be allowed any 
draw-back at the custom-house on exportation, as in other goods, which 
will hinder merchants from exporting them abroad again, tlmt our 
tradesmen may be supplied, as cheap as our neighbouring countries, 
with those goods they want to put them to work, 

27. That all goods, which are imported, and exported again in time, 
may be allowed the usual draw-back at the custom-house, as well in 
goods where the property is altered, as in others where the properly is 
not altered ; by which means several of our poor may be employed, 
and all those who want wcrk, and are in debt, and have not to pay, 
will flock to these fishing-factories ; and, instead of lying in jails, and 
their families becoming burdensome to the parishes, we shall have our 
barren lands cleared, tilled, manured, and well wooded with fine groves 
of trees fit to build shipping; which will shelter those bleak and wild 
places; and those ports in time will become famous fish-markets, and 
these men well disciplined, which will be good outguardsfor our kingdom, 
ready to assist in time of necessity, and will breed up a nursery of sea- 
men ready to man our royal navy on any occasion. By this, our lands 
and our livings will be secure from the attempts of any foreign enemy, 
our trade will flourish, and our poor be provided for, and will be an 
everlasting safety and happiness to our kingdom and government : Which 
Ood long preserve. 




Folio, coDtaining two pages. 

A SET of gamesters all together met. 
Some came to play, and others came to bet* 
The cards produced, they first for dealing cttt| 
'Sqpiepla/d at noddy, and the rest at put. 



The noddy gamesters, having drunk too hard^ 

Coold not distinguish knave from other card ; 

But like true Scots, being eager of the cup, ' 

They cou'd not tell the game when it was up. 

Instead of minding how the cards were laid. 

Fell all asleep, while t'other gamesters play'd ; 

But, being wak'd to pay their drunken scores. 

They chang'd their noddy game into all-fours : 

And then, with one consent, new cards they buy, 

And vow'd they'd play the strict severity. 

A cunning blade, that knew each card i'th' pack^ 

And gain'd experience in the art that's black : 

Says he, '* 1*11 fairly lay the cards all down, 

And hold a wager of an even crown, 

That we will have both lowest. Jack, and game, 

Tho' you have shuffled them, and cut the same.** 

With that the cards being dealt about again. 

Instead of Jack, comes up a single ten; 

And clubs were trumps, at which the standers^by 

Cry'd it was foul play, and gave this reason why, 

Because the king o'th' hearts, which should have comc^ 

Was put below the knave, by th* dealer's thumb. 

So quick and nimble was that card convey'd, 

None knew how it was dealt, nor how 'twas play'd. 

But yet the other gamesters hop'd that Jack 

Was not in hand, but still among the pack. 

Yet some, who fear'd the worst, were in the dumps, 

Lest Jack, next time, he should be turn'd up trumps. 

Says one, * Chear up, I've cards I will not name, 

Tho' they are lowest, we'll secure the game; 

And, if we lose it, then we are to blame.' 

With that he play'd the queon, a card of honour, 

But t'other threw the knave of trumps upon her; 

When those, that bctied, saW the queen was lost. 

They knew which way the game was riding post. 

(Yet, like true voters at a new election, 

Who scorn to yield it up by bare inspection, 

Call for a poll, and so, by telling noses. 

Know which side wins, and which side 'tis that loses.) 

So these high gamesters, they would tell for game, 

For chalks, ou both sides, are the very same. 

But, seeing them produce two knaves and Jack, 

Concluded they had all the knaves i'th' pack. 

Alas! say they, what good doth highest do. 

When they have got both Jack and lowest too? 

Besides, we now must yield our game is gone. 

For you have got three knaves to our one ; 

Which proves the proverb true, just to a lettefi 

Moit koKm in nomber mokes men'i luck the twtlKi; 



Well game no more, till we have Icarn'd more skill* 
Knaves will be knaves, let men play ne'er fo well* 
But we this resolution have laid down, 
Nerer to play so high as for a crown. 


Of the newest Fashion^ 

To be sold by Auction, at the Whigs Coffee-House, at the Sign of the 
Jackanapes, in Prating-Alley, near the Deanery of St. Paul's. 

Quarto, containing eight pagci. 

"PCCEBOLIUS ANGLICUS: The Oxford turn-coat, or the 
S^ duty of conforming to all times and circumstances of prevail- 
ing wickedness of the contrary, by Hum— y Ho — y, an humble asserter 
of that doctrine, dedicated to his master, St. 

2. Mercurius Deformatus: Or the Picture of Mercury, with a 
calf*s head on, and no brains in it; by that contemptible witling, the 
Weekly Observator. Dedicated to the learned and worthy Dr. Wel- 

3. Lues Germanica : The Dutch Pox in folio. A modem treatise, 
holding forth a surer way of clapping our consciences, than a land £ie- 
•bip can our cod-pieces. 

4. Si fortuna velit fics, de, &c. GraveMane to day, D — n of P — I's 
to*morrow, and Gravel-lane again, as moody fortune or spouse pleases: 
By smock-pecked Sh k. 

5. Quos Jupiter vult perdere, &c. England first made a Bethlem, 
by priests of latitude, and then an Aceldama, by the Dutch pilgrims 
inSoho; published as a specimen of the blessings we may rationally 
expect from a general comprehension of all religions, as well as of a 
general naturalisation of all nations. 

6. Non magna loquimur sed, &c. By the pious author, and reli- 
gious practiser, of the letter to the dying Lord Russ — 1, addressed 
diiefly to his arch-brother and quondam pupil Dr. Sh -, as an an* 
iMote against shame and remorse ; with a use of iostructioD, that those 
^H^y you cannot get birl j lid of by aifumeot or baoteri you nutt 
ieam solidly to out-£ce« 


7' Clodius accusat mcechos: Or three discourses against Tom 
Fir — u, and a fourth against hell -torments; the first tract extorted from 
the author, by the importunate clamours of those who hate hereticks 
in masquerade, as the author himself tells you, lest you should think he 
drew his pen in the defence of Christianity voluntarily ; the second pub- 
lished as a brief summary of his creed, by way of communicatory letter. 
I>edicated to his sub-intruders. 

8. Heu quantum nobis profuit, &c. A treatise shewing that hypo- 
crisy's the best religion, by him that gain'd six-thousand pounds, per 
annum, by it ; these three last, by the same hand. 

9* Dux foemina facti: Conquest the best title to body and conscience, 
by Dr. Sh — k's wife, dedicated to her humble servant her husband; 
wherein these two points are proved at large: First, That no man is a 
good husband, who will not sacrifice his conscience, to the importunity 
of a wife: And secondly, That the doctor was visibly under her power, 
and, therefore, he was forced to submit, and might do so according to 
his hypothesis of force, which dissolves all obligation, especially since 
fbe female usurpation had been for a long time, and thoroughly settled. 

10. Dum vitium fugiunt stulti, &c. An infallible cure for the 
cramp in the great toe, by cutting both legs off; the operation performed 
by the associated conventioners of eighty-eight, and approved by some 
of the task-masters of last Sessions. Together witK apologies for the 
aame, by those two foxes, John — n and Bar — t, each of which, though 
their heads stand different ways, has the fire-brand of rebellion in his 

11. Parturiunt montes, nascetur, kc. An exact list of all the 
countries, cities, towns, fortresses, castles, laden vessels, cannon, bag- 
gage, &c. taken from the French, since the commencement of the last 
war; by Johannes Pudendus, a speaker of short hand. Dedicated to 
the invisible, invulnerable, and thrice puissant protector of these three 
once flourishing kingdoms. 

12. Manus manum fricat : Or, a king-maker deserves to be a wages- 
taker; by a club of those confiding Kn — s that sold their country last 
session ; dedicated to their pay-master ; wherein they gratefully owa 
they have taken his money, but withal tell him they have not been 
behind-hand, but, for every hundred pounds they have received from 
him, they have given him ten-thousand. 

13. E quovis ligno non fit Mercurius: Clearly demonstrating, that 
you will sooner make a sweet punch-bowl of a wooden close-stool, than 
an orthodox bishop of an old stinking fanatick; humbly offered to the 
crack-brained frantick window-breaker of Cripplegatc, a lively and 
living testimony of the truth of that treatise. 

14. Semper idem : Or, a covenanter in 47, an engager in 52, ft 
negative and &c. Oath-man in 67, a surplice-renouncer in 6l, aeon 
formist and covenant-renouncer in 64, a rebel in 88, a scandalous 
intruder in 90, and a Judas always; by R d K ■ r, and 
several others : Dedicated to undipt John, and are to be sold at the 
Windmill in Turncoat-Alley ; where arc alcorans or bibles, common* 
prayers or mais books, Geneva ^lokcs or gowns and cassocksi mitr«i or 


turbants of all sorts and sizes, for the use of the persevering confcssoil 

15. Quae genus et flexum variant, &c. Or, a prophecy of the six 
grand intruders; proving them to be heteroclites and heterodox, from 
the rudiments of grammar and Christianity. 

16. Nos patriae fines, &c. Room for sootcrkins, or, the neiohbourly 
kindness of a general naturalisation; shewing, that, since fonfignen 
hava naturalised and adopted all our money, it is but reasonable that 
we should adopt and naturalise some of tbeir men ; because we hava 
nothing left now to oblige them with, but our Terra Firma, and, since 
it is not possible to transport our mountains to them, we should bring 
them to our mountains. 

!?• Graeculus esuriens, See, A catalogue of refugees turned witches, 
in hopes of the honours and revenues of English bisbopricks. Bj 
Gil — t Bu— t, founder of that order. Dedicated to Monsieur Alix, 
already a treasurer of one cathedral, and a forward putter for the go« 
vemment of another. 

18. Exorcista. Or, England dispossessed of a Low-Country Devil^ 
by the High-Dutch conjurer of the Savoy. 

19* Ecclesia liberata. The established church preserved, by damn- 
ing her doctrines to steal her pelf. By Brother !■ n of tha 
Char — r- house; presented for a new year's gift to Sister Sym — n; 
wherein is learnedly proved, that passive obedience, without a parson* 
age and prebendary, and pater-nosters without pence, are unedifying 
tenets, and, that no church is worth the saving, that will not allow tent 
and eggs to one's breakfast. 

20. Pro.ximus sum egomet mihi. Near is my King, but nearer it 
my skin* By that renowned vindicator of the church, the martyr Dr. 
Pel — g. Dedicated to ^L G. Ludlow, as a thankful return to his last 
obliging letter on that subject ; containing the reasons of Jeshurun'i 
kicking, and the doctor's deserting. Printed for Aminadab Rebellis, 
and are to be sold at the sign of the ' Jack-Pudding, in Taylor^s-court, 
near West ' r* 

21. Asperius nihil est humili, &c. A new-invented mathematical 
instrument, by the help of which one may discover, that, the higher a 
jackanapes climbs, the more he shews his arse. Published for a warn- 
ing to Dr, Birch's fathers that never were sons, that they may take 
effectual care to double line their breeches, because there is an old 
saying, That * Fools will be peeping.' 

22. Octavus Sapicntum: Or, Bog-witticisms improved, for the 
diversion of both sexes; being some small gleanings from the plentiful 
stock of the worshipful Sir Sal — 1 Lov — 1 R— r L . 

23* Asinus ad Lyram : An argument in law, proving. That killing of 
horses is downright murder. Published as a caution to prevent (ht 
tflfiisioD of christian blood. By the same ingenious author. 

24. In dubiis tutior pars. Or, the broad way to save a man's baconi 
and damn his soul. 

• 25. Junius Brutus Redivivus. The loyal converter of the SOth of 
January, into a day of preparation for the sacrament; to be received 
•nly by sucb| who maka it the first article of their religjion, That tha 


murdering, or driving away lawful Kings, is not only lawful, bvl 
laint-like, performed on the last annivcnary. By W — ms of the 

26. Filius ante diem : A vindication of disobedience and parricide^ 
proving, that children owe no duty to parents, unless so long as they 
did not undorsland it ; but, when they come to years of discretion, they 
may, and ought to maintain their liberty of disobedience, even to the 
destruction of their parents, if they but suspect that they will labour 
to prevent such undutifulness. Dedicated to a very dutiful lady, at tk« 
great house near Ch— ng-cross ; by the plier at St. Andrew's, Hol- 

27* Semel insanivimus omnes : Or, a treatise shewing, That he k 
no good philosopher, that has not committed one folly. But, at the 
aame time, shewing, That he is an ass and a knave, that pursues it, 
when he sees the cheat. Published by a club of relenting abdicators; 
and by them, dedicated to the several counties, cities, towns corporate^ 
and boroughs they represent. 

28. Unguentum Ophthalmicum : Sovereign eye-bright, to remove 
the mists from the people's eyes, that they may sec their condition, and 
reward their riders. Addressed to the unfeigned lovers of England, of 
what condition or persuasion soever. 

29. Nolumus hunc regnare : An epitome of all the learned reasons 
given by our intruders, and present riders, against returning to our 
tenses, and restoring the King ; with an appendix of fear of punish* 
ment and disgrace. Dedicated to half a dozen of henpecked Londoa 

30. Nunquam sera est ad bonos, &c. : Or, the resurrection of alle* 
glance and discipline, from the grave of rebellion and schbm, by the 
oppressed and abused sons of the old church of England. Published 
to the confusion of those sons of Latitude and Belial, that make heaven 
pimp to their interest. 

31. £x nibilo nihil fit: Or, a dissertation of the no power of a no 
parliament, making a no King, that will always be doing us no good, 
by leaving us no parliaments without perjury and pensioners, no church 
without knaves and intruders, no trade without hazard and losses, no 
credit at home or abroad, no honour nor conscience, no blood in our 
veins, nor money in our pockets, none but Holland frogs and cater* 
pillars in the nation, and nothing but repentance at the last. 

Cases of Conscience^ and Qusrics, 

1. Whether a pensioner be not ten times worse than a Lapland 
wizard, since the latter only sells his own soul to the devil, but the 
pensioner sells other men*s souls, bodies, and all ? 

2. Whether a coachman may not drive post to the D— 1, by pro- 
iuiing the Lord's-day, notwithstaading the licence of the house ? 


3« Whether the remaining four of the unrepealed ciMnmandmeBti 
€ght not to be cashiered next session f 

4. Whether the members were asleep in St. Margaretf9y or St. 
Stephen's, when they voted Dr. Birch a saint in one place, and amalig- 
■ant in the other? 

5. Whether the fifth commandment be part of the coronation-oath, 
•ince our governors observe it so strictly ? 

6. Whether protcstant tyranny be not better thai popish tyranny, by 
•ix millions, per annum } 

7- Whether popish knaves and gridirons have done ua half ao nock 
mischief, as Dutch declarations and English pensioners? 

8. Whether it is not a cordial to an Englishman's stomach, to hear 
A nasty Dutchman swear, that they have given us a King to wipe their 
Atadtholder's backside? 

$• Whether it is better to have some religion, all peace, and mo» 
derate taxes? or no peace, no religion, and all taxes? 

10. Whether, when the roguy engraver fixed old NolFs head on 
W m's shoulders, the figure were not all of a piece ? 

11. Whether six-hundred thousand pounds were not too small a 
gratuity to our dear saviours, the Dutch ? And whether we had not 
better openly give them all, than let them take it underhand, and laugh 
at us into the bargain? 

12. Whether our governors do not act wisely, in sacrificing our 
•eamen, and starving their wives, since they design shortly we shall 
have no ships ? 

13. Whether it was not a true blunder, in him that took the pope's 
picture for that of K. W. since he interpreted the two, keys to be those of 
our coffers and consciences ? 

14. Whether Julian, or Sherlock, deserve the whetstone; since 
Julian has been always true to a false principle,- and Sherlock a traitor, 
and false to a true one ? 

15. Whether S be not the most excusable instrument in our 
present slavery, since treason and rebellion, in him, are original 

16. Whether Cumb d and Ten— n ever confuted ten Hobbists 

by their bawling aud printing? And whether they have not made ten- 
thousand by their practice? 

17. Whether Julian, the house, or the hangman have made the best 
second treble to Gilbert's pastoral ? 

18. Whether Father Sim n has been rebaptised, since he pub- 

lickly renounced Christianity in Peter— —gh cathedral ? 

19* Whether the Scotch conferences and the Friendly debate are not 
damnably ashamed of their rascally authors ? 

. 20. Whether the Pilgrim's Progress, or the Parable of the Pilgrim, 
bad the better tinker to their author, since they both set up for a pair of 
church-menders ? 

91. Whether Richatd of Kidderminster bad not much more epis- 
copacy and uniformity in him, than our St. Richard Kidder ? 

S2« Whether the Latin reason of Auri saera fames, or the English. 

J-x. •" 

jM2 a letter prom a country 

of the ' Grey mare is the better (lorse*, did operate most in making Sher* 
lock a changeling ? 

23. Whether Bedlam ever produced any thing half so lewd and 
frantick, as Cresner*s lampoons upon the Apocalypse? 

24. Whether the old Welch seer may not, with the help of a small 
looking-glass, see an old crazy-crowned infidel, since he pawned his creed 
in 88, that Lewis the Grand and Old Nick should be chamber-fellowi 
in the other world, before the end of 92 ? 

2B, Whether J. C. or J. Y. have not all the reason imaginable to 
lldmit ranters, sweet-singers, Muggletonians, Jews, Turks, and infi- 
dels to be church-members, since their own hearts tell them, they ara 
« good christians as themselves ? 

26. Whether, in the next edition of his shame, the renowned author 
of the ' Contempt of the Clergy' ought not to add one other lamentable 
leason, besides those of ignorance and poverty, viz. Time-serving, 
together with his own phiz in the frontispiece ? 

27* Whether Dame Britannia was not less culpable, in being forced 
to endure a thirteen years rape from Oliver and the rump, than bj 
living a five-years adulteress now by consent i 



To his Brother in the Neighbourhood, 


Quarto, containing eight paget. 

Dear Brother, 

THE unhappy flames which of late have been blown up among us, 
by interesting ourselves in the disputes between the bishops and 
the lower house of convocation, and the unkind reflexions which are 
but too often cast upon the greater part of those venerable prelates by 
many even of our order, I conceive to be so great an offence to Al- 
mighty God, so dangerous to the welfare of our church, and to be such 
a reproach to our holy religion, that I cannot think it a great degree 
of forwardness in myself, or in any other, to endeavour whatever may 

! SoppoNd to bt writ bj Dr. Wakt. 


lie in our power to compose those sad differences and animositiesi the 
consequences whereof look so very fatal towards us. This is the occa- 
sion of troubling you with this letter ; in which 1 shall take the liberty 
to excuse myself from making animadversions upon any miscarriages of 
our superiors, which some of them, by inadvertency, and the common 
frailty of human nature, may have fallen into, that being a part which 
I cannot think myself by duty called to, nor to be becoming a person 
who moves in so mean a sphere as I ; and besides, I fancy 1 shall find 
matter enough to fill up this letter, in pointing at the faults which we 
are guilty of on our side, and shewing, that we have taken up very 
mistaken characters of very good and excellent men, by taxing them 
for actions with which they are no ways chargeable^ or for which they 
are no ways blameable. 

I. And indeed it is very dismal to consider what vile reproaches are 
cast upon the greatest part of those reverend persons by too many of 
our own coat : To hear us so frequently taxing them as affecting a ty« 
rannicaU despotick power over the clergy, as being betrayers of the 
common liberties of the church, mercenary instruments and parasites of 
the court, fanaticks in their hearts, and avowed enemies of every part 
of our ecclesiastical constitution, unless it be the fair revenues which 
they have the happiness to enjoy under it. For clergymen to utter 
these things in their discourse, both publick and private, and to publish 
the like, by writings, to the whole world, can be no ways suitable to the 
rules of the holy religion we profess, nor to the character we sustain 
in God's church ; and, I think I may add, does bid the utmost defiance 
to the principles of the church of England, which bespeak the highest 
esteem and veneration for the order of bishops. This is a practice which 
there is none of us, some time past, but would have condemned with the 
greatest abhorrence and detestation. Let us, for once, suppose some 
body to have prophesied fourteen or fifteen years ago, that many of us 
who then valued ourselves so much upon our duty and obedi(!nce to 
our bishops, and passed such severe reflexions upon the undutiful car- 
riage of others, that we should, within a few years, treat them with so 
an unhandsome deportment, and give them all those good compliments 
which have been so freely of late bestowed upon them, would not 
every one of us have been ready to return, with indignation, that of 
Hazael, * Is thy servant a dog, that he should do this thing?* This, my 
good brother, does deserve a deep and serious reflexion ; for these gos- 
pel duties, you know, are of eternal verity, and will be as true a thou- 
sand years hence, as they were twenty years ago; nor can I imagino 
that any one of us does think that a part of our religion can grow in or 
out of fashion, as people's clothes do. If there are no duties owing to 
our diocesans, we ought to recant the error we were in, by betraying 
the dignity of our own order, whilst we were, in time past, so liberally 
paying them; or, if there be any regards owing, the methods, which 
have been of late taken, have been but a pretty odd way of discharging 
them. And, since we are entered upon this point, I will beg the free* 
dom to recommend to your consideration something farther upon it : 
And let us consider^ 


If. That the veiy raillery we, some of ns, are wont to exert upon 
Ihb occasion, if it was not levelled at our superiors, and the ground of it 
was never so well bottomed, is a part not altogether becoming our 
Amotion. We that are the ministers of Jesus Christ are obliged more 
nicely to follow our great Master's copy and example, who, * when he 
was reviled, reviled not again/ A christian pastor can never look with 
•o ill a grace, as when he assumes the character of a droll, or a satyr. 
Sarcasm and buffoonery are at best but a sorry part of wit, and, I am 
confident, no part at all of religion. We frequently are commanded 
in scripture to afford to those who are committed to our charge a shin- 
ing example of peaceableness and charity, but I cannot observe, that 
God has any where commissioned us a power to instruct them in the 
arts of taunts and invectives. This vile trade, we know well enough, 
was taken up by the accursed enemies of chri&tianity. The Lucians, 
and Julians, and Celsus's, had singular talents this way, and did a great 
deal of mischief to the gospel by them ; but I am at a loss to find 
when it received any benefit from ill-natured wits. The gospel thrived 
well by the meekness and patience of its first professors, and by such 
holy steps made its way over all the Pagan world, whilst heathenism, 
which was supported by the drollery and satyr of its philosophers, did 
daily lose ground, till it fell at last into nothing. This is argument 
tufficient to persuade us, that we pursue but very ill advised methods, 
whilst we are carrying on a cause that we arc willing to have succeed, 
by means which are such a reproach to our profession, which shew so 
ill an example to our people, and which we have not the least hopes to 
expect, that God Almighty will crown with any manner of blessing. 
Now, if we would seriously apply this, we should have an end of such 
tmart books, and fine jests upon our bishops, especially if we con- 
sidered, that these jests are not only very unmannerly, as being ad- 
vanced against our betters, but do likewise share a great degree of ir- 
religion and profancncss ; for those holy persons, who, by their office, 
do bear so nigh a relation to our blessed Lord, cannot be so unhand- 
•omely sported with, without reflecting a reproach also upon Christ 
and his religion. 

III. And as I look upon it a great fault to make use of such un- 
handsome drollery upon our diocesans, so I take it to be a very impru- 
dent and unchristian way for us to trumpet about their faults, although 
they were guilty of them in those particulars, and in that degree, as 
some of us pretend. It is a kind of a natunil law, which the vilest of 
men are scarce hardy enough to transgress, not to vilify those of our 
own body, and which bear any nigh relation to us. Those unkind of- 
fices arc h ft for strangers only to execute, every wise person esteeming 
it a madness to discover those defects which must, in the event, reflect 
upon himself. For the contempt, which one part of the body suflers, 
is, by an easy deduction, transferrable to the other. We of the clergy 
are apt to be loaded enough, of all conscience, by other people with- 
out doors; and the bishops of the church do find sufficient opposition 
from papists and sectaries; therefore, I presume, we clergymen arc 
not, at that time, in the must wariantable employment, when u s our- 




bpIvm arc proclaiming tr> the world whal ill aclions we inipule to our 
biahapi. If, as a laic ingpnious autbor says, * that thuie men who read 
Insons to princes, hovr to strain ecclesiaslical power to (be ulmost, 
without exceediag it, bo churcb Empsuns and Dudleys,' I thiiik I 
may as vrell conclude (if I delighted in hard words) thai those who ac- 
cuse the bishop: of their own church for such ill men as some of our 
order do, arc chutch Hams and Judas's, for discovering their father's 
nakedness, and betraying their spiritual governors, 

IV. In the next place, it beho\-es a little to consider, before wc maka 
too bold with our bishops characters, how much we gratify our com- 
mon enemies of all sorts, and expose our mother-church, by such a rc- 
ptvseutation of the governors thereof, tolheacomand obloquy of those 
who greedily watch for such opporlunitie* to revile us. Don't you 
think, that ibis must needs give a powerful encouragement to the several 
teclaries among us to come into the church, the governors whereof 
ihcy see set oS in those delicate colours, which some of ui of late have 
K) liberally adorned them with f What a curious history of English 
bishops must we expect from the next Popish pamphlet* that come over 
from Doway and St, Omen, } And what domestick aulhoi-itics will be 
touched to make Iheit slanders good i It is easy enough to imagine, 
and common enough to observe, what fine sport the quarrels with our 
bishops make among our a thcistE and deists. Sometimes they lake a 
handle from these differences to expose the bishops for " aSecling an 
incompetent power, and for minding no pott of ihtir office so much, as 
to lord it over iheir fellow-shepherds ; deny ibis, and ihey call upon Ihu 
authorities of many of the clergy to assert it ; and then it goes for unde- 
niable. At other limes they are pleased to be quit with these authori- 
ties themselves, and call ihcm al! a parcel of hypocritical sparks, ihat 
make a world of stir with duly and obedience, till it begins to pinch 
them, and then they tly in the face of the king and bishops without 
fear or discn.-tion,' One would think, that we are under a perfect in- 
fatuation to make ourselves, and the religion and church we are mi. 
nisters of, a jest and mockery to these prophane wretches. But the 
highest degree of madness is, for some of us, to court the favour of 
ihete very men to support us against our bishops, and lay open thtir 
character so unhandsomely before such men. Certainly ihc affairs of 
the church arc safer in the haiid» of the most tyrannical bishops, thati 
of them who are enemies lo all religion: Neither are the presbytera 
like lo find any extraordinary redress from them, who look upon the 
whole function to be impostors alike. 

It is no excuse to say, that this freedom taken with the bishops is 
but by way of reprisal, to be even with a writer on the bishops side, 
who took as great a freedom with the inferior clergy. I must confess 
that I, for my part, and a great many other indifferent persons, never 
liked that part of that writer's book ; and I think hii cause had not 
been the worse, if it had been spared. But let him answer for that 

Now as these reproaches did not proceed from the bishops, so thi* 

is the unjustesi way of relaliatioji, lo make ihem suffer for the fault* 
of others; or, if the bishops had any share in promoting iht-m, ourboly 

vot. XII, a 



religion hu Ikught ut a belter lesson, than to " return evil forwil." If 
one part of the clergy have been (dltcly traduced, wc should be mu- 
tmuB how we involve the remaining part under the same impuialion, 
^Vlial lad events will foUnw upon the keenness of these disputes God 
alone knows; but this 1 am sure or, that, between this writer and hU 
answerer, the church of England ha& tuffered more in her Tcputatioo 
than will easily be retrieved : For the bishops ere represented in such 
a. dress by the one, and iho preabyter^ by the other, that it wants only 
the hand of a SanJcrs or u Parsons to put ihem botli together; and then 
out comes such a picture of tbc English n-lbrmation, as will ronke ui 
all curse these unhappy disputes which have brought aucb shame upon 

V. If thi-se considerations he not of wclghl enough t 
off this prevailing cuatom of aspening o 

o make us leave 
[ shall add one 
, and that is our oath of canonical obedience. Now we all know 
what canonical obedience is, viz. all that respect and submission, which 
the canons require to be paid to our diuccsaus. An injurious accuser of 
a bishop is by the canons to have a perpetual brand of infamy fixed 
upon him, ami to be excommunicated: An obedience is to be paid 
tliem " in omnibus licilis it honcstis, Sic." Now I cannot tell how to re- 
concile an ignominious treatment and bespattering their chatacicT wiib 
the ecclesiastical precepts which we swear to. Our guilt must ncrdt 
•tare some of us in the face, when wc reflect upon this ; as having taktn 
no motv care to discharge these obligations which we have so sacredly 
ei^a^ed to perform. This were a grievous crime, though there were 
sufficient ground for these clamours against our diocesans, especially 
to do it in llie way that is generally practised; but, when there b so 
little fouiulation fur Uiesc heavy imputaiiom, I conceive it to be such 
ati aggravation of the fault, ^s wc can never be easy under, when wc 
seriously lay it to heart. And, therefore, in the remaining part of this 
letter, I shall selmywlf to vindicate our present bench of bishops from 
these aspersions, which either by unthinking, ei designing men, have of 
laie so plentifully been thrown upon them. 

VI. One fault, which is mightily laid to their charge, is, their being 
of latitudinarian principles as tbcy arc called, that is, no hearty friends 
to our ecclesiastical constitution, but are rather inclined to the dissen- 
ters tenets, and endeavour by all means to bring the church to the con. 
venticle level ; and that it is in order to this end they are so very fond 
of setting a comprehension on foot, thereby to destroy our present 
church establishment and discit^lioe, and set up something else which 
likes thcro better. But what a ridiculous calumny is this } To think 
that the bishops, who enjoy so great a share in the church's rercnuca, 
should be engHged ina design of pulling it down ; this would be such a 
degree of self-denial, that their adversaries in other cases would hardly 
allow them. But bow do they know that these bishops have such a 
disliking to the ecclesiastical settlement t If men's principles arc to be 
discovered by their words and actions, the pcsent bishops have both 
on their side to vindicate them from thii aseision. Their frequent 



nibscriptions to the utidft, their usual discourae both in public^ and 
private, together with their sermons, are all of them in contradiction to 
what is here objected. There are several of them, who have ytfeim'i; 
ously wrote in defence of our constitution ; witness the cases agaiatt 
the disienteis, which were mostly wrote by the pens of those very mett 
who are thus calumniated. Though, by the way, I do not find in my 
accounts that any great number of those who bear so hard upon. tba. 
bishops, and put so much upon this head, did give any hand to this no* 
ble worlc; therefore methinks it is pretty strange, that the pre^ot 
bishops should commence fanaticks for writing so bravely agaiut thf 
schism, and others should be the only church of England men ioi bet- 
ing silent under it. As for the matters of alteration which were oa 
foot about a dosen years agg, these present bishops are not more to bci 
blamed for them, th^ those other bishops who declared to the late kuut 
James, that they would be willing to come to such a temper, as that all 
differences in religion, as far as possible, might be composed i^mong wu 
This was not thought such an offence, when the resolution was fiiit 
made, and therefore why are they so much tp be blamed for cv4^ 
youring afterwards to make their words good i The unlucky disputes^ 
which then happened, run up men's bloods so high, and frigbte|iei| 
them with such misapprehensions of some strange desij;ns upon tho 
church in that affair, that those bishops, who appeared in behalf pt 
that project, could hardly recover the hearty affections of their clergy 
^er since. And, if we consider the loud clamours which have been 
raised agiiinst someof their lordships about this business, one could 90t 
think but that they were contriving at that time the very unhin^ng of 
our whole constitution. And yet I am fully assured, that all, that wafs 
then designed, was no more than the changing a few apochryphal m*. 
sons for canonical scripture; appointing the new translation ojf th|B 
Psalms for singing and reading in lieu of the old ; making all the col* 
lects agree more with the epistles and gospels, as was begun, thoiigh, 
abruptly left off by the commissioners at the Savoy, in 16S2, and 
changing an exceptionable passage or two in the other services* I 
could wish their lordships would be so just to themselves as to publish 
the resolutions of the committee in Jerusalem chamber ; and then I aia 
penuadcd, that we should all be of opinion that their lordships are so 
£ir from meritiDg the reproach, which is for that reason thrown upon 
them, that they would appear to deserve the highest commendation. 
And, since people have grown cool upon that matter, I hardly find any 
sensible man, who pretends to find more fault now, than ill timing of 
that design. But, by the way, is it not a little hard, that we should 
hear t^ perpetual epmity to our bishops for the ill timing of an action ? 
I^ay, this was no more than what was before designed in the Compre- 
h^nfion bill in^ the lords house, which was liked well enough by some 
9f those persons who appeared so keenly, against the commission, and 
the treating of that af^ir in convocation, afterwards ; though, upon 
what reason, they changed their opinion, I pretend not to sebret his;- 
toiy enough to understand ; unless they began to dislike it, because 
some other piefioni, b^idi^ themselves, came to take a part in the 
doing it. 



VIL Another misapprehension of their lordbhips actions, and whicfr 
the generality of people, at present, seem to be the most incurably pos' 
tetsed with, is, concerning their voting in parliament, always, as it is* 
said, on the government's side; whereby, it is pretendHI, they give 
occision to suspect, that they are not always led by rmpnrtial consider- 
ations ; but exert their leal in that interrst, which is best able to re-* 
ifurd them with higher preferments. l*his, 1 know, h a terrible cry, 
amt^ng the atheists and Jacobites, aad some other unlinking people, 
who have the wit to be maidc tools to their designs ; which arc by weak*' 
ening the king's interest, and bespattering all men of high station m the 
chui^ch, to compass the glorious end, they are pursuing, of irrcligioif 
and slavery. But this imputation, false and scandalous as it is, carries 
a compliment with it, which the objectors did not design, when they 
sty, that the bishops vote always on the court side. And 1 will assort: 
ybu, this veiy virtue of constancy desen^es, in this age, no small com- 
mendation; for we have seen some others, who are not bishops, to 
have changed sides, two or three times, since his majesty's accession to 
the crown, who never were against the king's affain, when any thing 
was to be got by them ; and always against them, when nothing was to 
be lost by the opposition. But, why is it such a crime to vote on the 
king's side ? His affairs are not the more unjust, because be has thu 
happiness to be able to reward the assisters of them. Nay, I am con- 
fident, though it was out of the king's power to shew any further marks 
of fiivour, upon any of the present bishops, who are hereby calumni- 
ated ; the king would not have much fewer votes, from that venerable 
betoch, than he has. There is nobody doubts, but that the archbishop 
of Canterbury is as hearty in the king's interest, and gives his vote as 
frequently on his side, as any of his comprovinciab; aini yet, 1 dare 
aay, he has no hopes of a translation, on this side heaven. And why 
should we not expect a like sincerity from the rest f Methinks, their 
bare gratitude to the king, for being advanced by him, should sooner 
tngagc them to his majesty's interest, than to side with some ambiirous 
and disobliged men, who are known enemi(*s both to the king, and them 
too. But there is a higher motive, which, I am persuaded, the bishops 
are swayed by, in giving their suffrages in parliament ; and that is, 
to support the present government, on which all our liberties and reli- 
gion depend. And, let me tell you, Sir, for all the talk of thoughtless 
and intrigueing men, the bishops have had their share, and have gone 
a good way, in the securing it. In the midst of warm disputes^ ihey 
have held such a temper and moderation, and acted with such a steady 
resolution, for the support of the government, that future ages will be 
bound to bless their memory for it. Therefore, upon the whole^ it can 
be no foult-in the bishops to give their votes, with regard to the king's 
interest ; unless it can be proved, that the king has any ihterest separate 
from the church and nation; which he is so far from appearing ever to 
have had, that he has all along, under God, been the gileatest pre- 
server of both. But if it should please God, that this, or any other 
king, should ever pursue methods contrary to the good of these: 1 do 
verily believe, no temporal expectations will engage ncnj of their good** 


ncss and sincerity, to act any thing in compliuncc with them, that may 
be iDConsifttent with their honour and coiueiciice. 

VIII. Another matter there is, which we of the gown do chiefly 
quarrel with on r bishops for; and that is, their hindering the clcr£ry to 
act in convocation, for eight, or ten years togc'tbcr ; and when at last, 
after a great deal of baiting, they were weaned iato a concession for 
their sitting, they were pleased to trump up a right of adjournment of 
the lower house, to all times, and upon all occasions ; whereby, the 
whole end of their meeting is utterly defeated. But I have some reason 
to be of opinion, that our grounds <lo not a little fail us, when wc sup- 
pose, that this long interroihsion i»f a convocation did proceed from any 
arbitrary resolution of the bishops; for it is not improbable to think, 
that this whole a0kir was adjusU'd, by wise and mature deliberation, 
without any mixture of privute pique and resentment, and that all due 
regard was had to the case and welfare, both of church and state. The 
nation had been afllicted by a long and expensive war, which afforded 
neither leisure, nor sufficient maintenance for the clergy, to stay long 
off from their cures in a synodical attendance. Neither was it so pro- 
per to venture, then, upon any warm ecclesiastical disputes, which do 
usually attend such meetings ; at a time, when contests in the state had 
raised men's bloods but too high already. Afterwards, since the end of 
the war, upon the seeming d^'sirc of the generality of the clergy^ that a 
convocation should meet, they accordingly did, had several seMioiit, 
and were going upon very commendable business in both houses. But 
alas ! these noble designs were blasted by a dispute, which arose about 
the right of adjournments; which the meihbers of the lower house 
were prompted to claim, having found something, in a dark part of 
history, and in registers, then not so exactly scanned, which seemed to 
make in some measure for them. How far these few instances of a«i- 
joumment against those multitudes, which arc produced on the archbi- 
shop's side, will maintain a right: I leave those, who understand these 
matters better than myself, to judge. But, if the lower house bate a 
right of adjourning themselves, it is a power, which their predecesson 
have thought fit very seldom to claim ; it is not pretended more than 
two or three times, in almost as many centuries ; and why should the 
^^l^rgy* ill our times, set such a value upon a right, which our foreia-' 
thers did hardly think worth the claiming in theirs ? It it sufficient 
to remove a bar, against their right, to have claimed it, and put thcoH 
selves, for once, in an actual possession of it, and so to leave the nice 
dispute of it, till better times ; or, if nq more be said of it in our times, 
they are so far from betraying a right, which our forefathers have be- 
queathed us, as it is said by some, that the last convocation did as 
much in that affair, as can be pretended, any of our forefathers did* 
In short, there is no doubt, but that the convocation may sit and act, 
if they please, for all the archbishop's power of adjourning, and the 
king's right of license, upon humble desire thereof; for neither of tbem 
both have ever given any occasion to suspect, that they will be at any 
time wanting to hearken to any proposals, that may be for the good oif 
their c)iurch and people. And, when the neonsity of a convocation, 

» 3 



in the present conjuncture, as wo all of us confess, doii press us so hard, 
it i) not worth while lo dispute from what authority the power of Ihcir 
acting or iheit adjournmenla do proceed. The lamentable growth of 
irreligion, iheutiUKs in tpintual courts, and the very low ebb of all 
c cell's! aslieu I aulhority, do call aloud for lynndical mrclings, lo con- 
sider, viiih the utmost wisdom a,nd application, fur speedy remedies 
lo such growing ciils. These matlen require an immediale redren, 
tt'hilst those other questions will kc«p cold, to a morecoiivpnient sea»on. 
Now since the archbishop had been so long in possession of llie right of 
adjournment, and his com provincials have some reason lo believe that 
the lower bouse, by assuming ibis privilege, do prepare a way to an 
equality with their order, and to be a ci>-ordinate power with them, 
lliey cannot be blamed fur auerting Ibeir own. and their metropolitan's 
dignity; and are hss I think to be accused for hindering the advantages 
ofa synod, because &II the advantages, u-hich a synod can pretend to 
confer, muy, upon the ancient accustomed way of application to 
superiors, be obtained, without the insisting upon these claims. When 
the lower hou»c shall desire to meet upon intermediate days for dispatch 
of business, and a license, by humble petition asked for, to irame 
ecclesiastical laws, and these ivquesta shall not be gratified; it it lime 
to begin a clamour then, whm more reason is given to think it deserved, 
than now there has been. Power, I know, is a sweet thing; and those, 
who hope to have a share in it, are wont to contend eagerly for it ; and 
therefore it is no wonder, that, for this reason, the contiou'ny is carried 
on, with some warmth, on both sides; but, when common danger don 
on every side threaten, prophaDcness and irreligion at home, and 
popery and slavery from abroad, I hope, we shall follow the Lxample 
of the gntlant old Romans, who left oH* their squabbles among them- 
selves, whenever they were attacked by their cncinies, and never resumed 
their contests, till they were sure, that all was so »afc from witbuui, 
that a little scolding tit home could not hurt them. 

IX. The last prejudice which i& advanced against ourpresent bishops, 
and handed about lo the detriment of their character, is their interest' 
ing themselves in ctoctions to parliament, and appearing, as is sug- 
gested, for fanaticks and wbigs, in opposition to those who are true 
tons of the church, and well grounded in their principles too^ in rv- 
lation to the monorchia! government of the nation. 

But why, I pray, have noC the bishops as good a plea to exert their 
interest in their country to serve their friends, as any of the lay lords lo 
assist iheirsf And, if there be atiy thing in this objection, it arraigns 
the whole house of lords, as well as the bench of the bishops. The 
bishops have frequent occasion to make use of the authority and friend- 
ship of many of their neighbouring gentry, fur the redressing hardships, 
which are too frequently thrown upon some of their clergy, and for their 
bestowing preferments upon others whose merits deserve further en- 
couragements. And can any bishop handsomely refuse to obtain a (i!w 
votes from some of his dependents for a penon, to whom he stands 
obliged for services both to the church and himself? Why should the 
bishops, of all the men in the nation, be abridged the pHvilegM of 
serving their friends upon such u publick occasion i Shall c\-ery petty 


freeholder, and some tvbo have no property at all, be allowed to* 
canvas about for any one they have a taucy for, and must not the 
bishops, who have so large estates, and so much greater prudence to. 
judge of the fitness of a choice, be tied up from assisting a person of 
merit in his competition ? But the persons they appear for are whig^ 
and fanaticks. And this is all vile calumny. J do not think there ctin- 
be an instance given, in the whole nation, of a bishop's appearing for 
any gentleman, but who is an habitual member of the church of Eng- 
land. They have never opposed any gentleman's interest, but who has 
been of known, or, at least, suspected disaffection to the government ;. 
and to endeavour to keep out such, in this juncture of affairs, can need 
no apology. Every hearty lover of the King and our present consti- 
tution is a whig and fanatick to the Jacobites ; and this b all the title 
they have to those ill names, which their enemies so unkindly bestow 
upon them. Now, though the common people are frequently imposed 
upon by such slanderous characters, the bishops have sagacity enougl| 
to penetrate through the artifices of malice ; and cannot think it just^ 
that the nation should be deprived of the assistance of a member of 
worth and fidelity, for the sake of a few bespattering reflexions without 
^my ground. 

X. And now having, I think, sufficiently vindicated our pretcni 
bishops against these imputations, by which some have endeavoured to 
sully their character, I beg leave to say something farther to engage 
our hearty loive and esteem for them; and to let you understand tbait 
we have reason to bless God for raising up amongst us such excellent 
Others in the church, that do so eminently adorn the high station they 
are in, by all the good qualifications which arc desirable for that 
calling. For, as to their life and conversation, those, that are moi^ 
calumniated amongst them, have nothing that can be objected to theni 
upon this account; they hai'ing all along led lives of the greaiest cir- 
cumspection and exactness, and shewn forth shining f-xaroples of 
sobriety, meekness, and charily* Neither is their learning inferior to 
that ol' the bishops of the last a^, and the books, which they haw 
wrote, have such a vein of reasoning, and a calmness, running through 
them, as is superior to that of their predecessors. That humilityy 
which adoms the life of every Christian, renders theirs illustrious; &c 
I will defy the memory of the present age, or the annals of the former^ 
lo shew such a set of men, so iamous for their personal qualiifcalipaSf 
and raised to such an eninency of station, that have shewed sucli an 
ohMgMig familiarity to those below them, as these bishops have doo^» 
This, DciU to the grace of God, is owing, I believe, to the long and 
painful discharge of their labours, in their parishes, before their pro- 
motion: being thereby fieed from that high hind of deportment whkh 
some of their predecessors have been chaLTffd with ; who, having livai 
mostly iu the grandeur of a caihedrascal Jignity» were trained up te A 
superiority over their rural brethren, which they did not, to be surf, 
forget, as their honour iocfeased upMi Ibenu Nay, I will venture to 
say. That, when it shall please God lo take to himself these good Jnee, 
whom aense of us do so disesieem, it will not he easy to find a MKBt 
many amongst us, who will till those peaces as well as they liave cclie» 

s 4 


A LETPLR, &c. 

Thrn nhntn pily is it, that they who arc possessed of so much pcnnnal 
worth, nntl so much obliging cotiilcscension, should find so unkind 
rrtums from many of their own clergy t TTiis can proceed only from a 
fore-conccivcd prrjudice and mbepprehrnsion of thfir true cliaraclcr, 
which arises noi from any just Ground, but, from being eni;a«ed in a 
p^irty, and, for that rrasoit, unadvisedly helievin;; all that is »aid in 
their disparngemei:!. If this unhandsome and ungodly cu<^lom do not- 
■lop in good time, God knows whitlier it will at lest carry u«. The an- 
cient heresies and schisms, which so sadly postered the primitive church, 
had their originiil from presbyters quarrelling with ihtnr bishops. This 
gave arise lo \he hen-siea of Arius and Novatianus, and to the schism 
of the Doliatists. But 1 hope, the good God will afford us more grace 
ami wisdom than to let matters run su far. I do not think this humour 
to be spread so very wide as to atlirct any great part of our clergy ; the 
far greater number I am persuaded do stick fast to their ancient prin- 
ciple* and duty, and have never ceased to pay that love and respect to 
their diocesans, which our forefathers were so hearty in; and that ill 
c.tnmple, which some disublii>od persons have set, will, I hope, be so 
far from being copied, that they ihumselvcs will see their error, aod \m 
sorry for it. 

But I would not have you mistake me, as if I charged these faults 
upon the lower house of convocation, in their disputes with the bishops ; 
for though, 1 confei)S, 1 cannot gn into opinion with them in all they 
Iiave advanced, yet they, as acting in a synodical authority, have A 
privilege to remonstrate upon any grievances they think to be hard upon 
them, without breach of their doty to superiors. Or, if rules of de- 
cency be sometimes transgressed, the warmth of the disputes, they may 
be engaged in, goes a good way in alleviation. But my busiiiess is to 
silence, if 1 could, the reflecting talk of those, who reproach the bishops 
without doors; which, though they were of the house, they have no 
■J nodical privilege to excuse them for. For every presbyter then is 
iipDD the level with yoti and me, and owe as much duty and regard to 
their rcspfctive bishops. But I am afraid, there are the greatest 
number of tongues running upon this theme, that have had no share in 
these disputes, but what they have been pleased lo take lo themselves, 
without being called lo it. And 1 think it is time for all, who have 
nothing to do in these matters, to be quiet, when the chief manngiTS of 
the lower house controversy, and all the worthy members of the body 
now met, seem inclined to peace, and the ancient good correspond- 
ence. Now these, I think, we may both of us, as occasion shall offer, 
put in raind of their duly, without assuming an authority which docs 
not belong to us. For brotherly admonition is a common duty of 
Christianity ; and therefore, to be sure, does not lie out of our way, 
that have the honour to lake a share in the ministerial function. For, 
if you take seasonable opportunities to speak calmly upon these heads, 
or others, which younelf may suggest, where you shall find need, 1 
doubt not, but in time, and with God's blessing, your discourse will 
bavc its desired ctTect in ihe neighbourhood ; and, if othen would take 
upon them to do the like elsewhcie id the naCioD, I am persuaded we 


iliciMt^t in the Hvbtld, 6t ^an the wisdom of the Eg^tiam, or tho 
I^Ukiiopby of the Greeks^ as is made out by St Augostin and Josephus 
#ritftig against Appton the grammanan, as also by Eusebias and Justin 
Mkrt^: And that there were letters before Moses is visible, because 
We fihd it written, that he learnt in Egypt nnto Pharoah the arts and 
Wildom of the Egyptians ; nor do I know how this coald be, unless 
ttwiy had letters Wore, though, it is true, we know they had some cha- 
llMtcfs called hieroglyphicks, by which they taught nosl of their sd- 
eiieea. Howioever it was, the invention of letters is certainly divine, as 
tehig those that preserve and secure all other invention, for without 
Aem none can subsist ; and they are of such worth, that they make 
IbflA Immortal, rendering those things present which happened a thou* 
iMd years ago, and joining those which are distant, communicating 
Ibafli, tt if they Were not asunder. By them are known and learnt all 
Mrti of sciences, teachhig those in being all that past ages knew, and 
Miervitig for posterity all that those now living found out. In short, th<5 
MNtt of them is almost infinite and inexpressible, and therefore their 
Kfettition may deservedly be called rather divine thui human. What er- 
Hftr Wis observed in the characters of ancient times» methinks is not lo 
it i0U«|ht after, as depending on the will and pleasure of the inventor ; 
M'irt mily tee is done by those who frame cyphers or characters, add 
Hlfiil sorts of common letteiSi who observe no order. It is true they 
MUe^ in process of time, for the more distinction, put into that order we 
Wb0 fee them : And, because many afterwards successivdy added other 
lillig^ or made new characten, therefofe many were tliought the in- 
m rtui's of them ; of %hom we shall speak to purpose hereafter, whtfa 
M ceine to distdune of the pictures in the Vatican library, among 
Miek ftre those, of all such as were famous in the world for the in- 
IMloa of letters, or for adding any to them. 

YdiortBtfii, mtd rf the Ftiper^^lwr Ti»kt$. 



»' Having hltharto discoursed d the letten, H will now be cbnveni- 
ttntihy iomething of paper, as the matter on which they are madfc; 
" to speak the truth, it is no small difficulty to decide what they 
M in fotmer aM, because we have no account in history what 
ioA write on More the flood| but what we said before that Adam's 
^ iiildf«B» tito sottsof Seth, writ an account df aitl on didse two 
ftboNneMentlotted. Alter the flood, all authon agree thai as^n 
no paper, but writ on the leafes of palm tmt, wMooe, to duai 


day, those of books are called leaves. Next they writ on the fine bilk 
of trees, and particularly on that sort which slips oflf easiest ; such ai 
the elder, the plane, the a^h, and the elm; and these were the inward 
films, which grow between the bark and the wood, whirb, being ciiii> 
ously taken off, were joined together, and books roade of them ; and, 
because this film in Latin is called liber, thence the same name w« 
given to a book, though now they are not made of that subttaaoi. 
The wit of man, which still improved, after this found out a wnyef 
writing on the thinnest sheets of lead, of which private people nnde 
books and pillars. Next, the ancients found the way of writing oa 
linnen-cloths slicked and waxed, on which they writ, not with a pn, 
but with a small cane or reed, as some write to this day. And, ai 
Pliny tells us, we find in Homer, that these waxed cloths were med 
before the time of the Trojans ; and Mutianus, who, as be writes hisBiri^ 
was thrice consul, that, when he was president in Lycia, he read thfw^ 
in a temple, a letter writ on one of these cloths by Sarpedon, kiigef 
Lycia, then at Troy, where he assisted Priam in his war against the 
Greeks, and was at last killed by Patrocliu. In process of timf, lis 
method was found out of writing on parchment made of sheep-skim, 
mentioned by Herodotus, lib. vii. the invention whereof Vanro asogpn 
to the people of Pergamus, a city in Asia, on the banks of the riw 
Caicus, whereof Eumenes was king, and from that city it was called 
Pergamcnum, which we have corrupted to parchment. Pliny mjs, 
this Eumenes first sent it to Rome ; but Elianus says it was Attalos, 
king of the same country, who first sent it. Josephus, the Jew, makes 
the writing on parchment ancienter, and says, the books of the Jen^ 
so much ancienter than Eumenes, and the rest of that sort, wess 
writ upon skins; and relates, that when Eleazer, the high priesty sent 
the books of the holy scripture to Ptolemy by the Septuagint, to be 
translated out of Hebrew into Greek, king Ptolemy Philadelphos was 
much amiazed at the fineness of those skins or parchment; so that 
writing on them was easier and more lasting than the ancienter use of 
barks and leaves of trees ; and it is to be believed, this invention was 
not yet in Egypt, since Ptolemy wondered at it. After this, there was 
found a sort of paper made of a rush, or plant, called Papyrus, grow- 
ing in the marshes, about the river Nile, though Pliny says iheie are 
some of them in Syria, near the river Euphrates. . These rushes bear 
small leaves betwixt the outward rhind and the pith, which, beiog 
neatly opened with the point of a needle, and then prepared with fiae 
fiour and other ingredients, served to write on and made paper, the ia- 
nermost part making the finest, and, according to the seveml sorts, it 
had several names, and was put to sundry uses ; being from this rusk 
called Papyrus, which name has continued to our days, and is given 
to our paper, though made of rags, because this serves for the sasie 
uses as that did. 1 saw one of these rushes at Rome, which was shew* 
ed me by that worthy gentleman Castor Durante, of happy roeiaorjfi 
my master in the college, who told me it came from Egypt ; and ke 
had it from Padua, sent him by Signior Cortuso, a man excelkiidjf 
learned in simples, of whom he had got other more strange and wt 


;S| IB I baVe sereral times seen myself, and particularly a sheet of 
^■pyms, or paper, made of that rush. 

le first invention of making paper of this rush, Varro affirms, was 
e days of Alexander the Great, when Alexandria was founded ; 
Ffiny proves it was ancienter, by the books which Gn. Tarentinus 
d in his vineyard in a marble chest on the hill Janiculus, in which 
alto the bones of Numa Pompilius. These books were of the 
TiDtty and it is certain that l^uma Pompilius was long before Aliex- 
r# The Romans had several sorts of this paper ; one of them was 
4 kleratica, as Pliny writes, and only dedicated to religious books, 
k- afterwards, through flattery, took Augustus's name, and was 
d Aogustana, as the second sort from his^ wife Li via was called 
na, as among us there is now imperial and royal paper. There 
aa»ther sort called Amphitheatrica, from the place where it was 
^9 being about the amphitheatre ; and the first that began to make 
pap^ in Rome was one Fannius, who brought it to such fineness, 
mereas before it was for common use, it became equal with the 
aad took his name, being called Fanniana, whereas that, which 
KiC to curiously prepared, kept its old name of Amphitheatrica ; 
Acta were the best sorts of paper in those days. Afterwards 
I tlw Saitica, so named from a city where it was made, where 
was great abundance of the papyrus, and this was made 
la worst part of it. There wasr still another sort made of the 
aid part next the rhind, and called Tcniotica, from the place 
9 it was made, which was sold rather by weight than by choice. 
jf there was the Emporetica, answerable to our brown or wrap- 
paper, unfit for writing, and only used to make covers for the other 
r, and to wrap up goods, therefore called shop-paper. All these 
of paper were different from one another, for the best was thirteen 
!S broad, the hieratica two inches less, the fanniana of ten, and 
mphitheatrica two narrower; the saitica still less, and the coarse 
iretica not above six. Besides, Augustus's paper was in gi-eat es- 
for its whiteness, as well as its smoothness, but was so thin, it 
d tcarce bear the pen ; besides that, it sunk, and the letters ap- 
*d through it ; and therefore, in the reign of Claudius Cassar, it 
tbe first place, and another sort was made, from him called Clau- 
which was preferred before all the others, and the Augusta was 
red for writing of imperial letters. The Livian paper kept its rank, 
ig nothing of the first, but, in all respects, like the second. This 
of paper, made of papyrus, the Romans used a long time, on 
h many books were writ; and, as Pliny informs us, there were, in 
lOMt, abundance of volumes of Caius, and Tiberius Gracchus, of 
po, of Augustus, and of Virgil. 

lat this paper was good and lasting, appears by what was said 
t of Kuma's books, found in the consulship of P. Cornelius, L. F. 
egus, M. Balbius, and Q. F. Pamphilius; and, from the reign of 
Ml till their time, we find there passed five-hundred and thirty-five 
^ it being wonderful they should last so long without rotting, es- 
\\y having been all that while buried under ground. Authors dif- 


ier very much abotrt the number of tbeie books, lor aDU^Mlivy,tt]^ 
they were two, and found by Lnciui Petiliut; of vhioi oginioont 
iActantitisand PiuUrch, in the life of Nanuu Othon i9y thiy wre 
ldurteen» seven of the pontifical laws, and the other sevfB of tjhe fn^ 
cepts of Pythagorean philosophy ; others say thejf wctio twelve^ ai 
Varro in his book of Antiquities. Todituuis, Uk ii» iraileBbtbqr wev| 
thirteen of Numa's decretals, yet Antia affirms, there «em twoLati% 
one of the pontifical ritesi and as many Greek of Pytb^coniii pUbeot 
phy, and were therefore burnt by Q* PetuUos the pvefior* Certain it k^ 
that the invention of paper, made of the rush papyros, ooalunied kit 
among the Romaos* and very many books weie writ on U by bbimJ 
author^ as has been said above. 

In the last place was found out the paper of our daya, a po^ mU| 
invention, which has afforded the opportomty of writing i|mI pii)^U|h* 
ing a vast quantity of books. It is made of linoen rip beatsB Iq 
atoms; and it is wonderful that so mean a dung should prrpattrnto anl 
immortalise the memomble actions of men. It is mada in all partsof 
the world, and of several sorts great and unfl, and so wUta aadciuii 
ous, that nothing canexceed it. On this, as thomqsl psffcot, are prial* 
pi so many volumes as are dailv seen, laying aside tha frnftm^ tlNf 
parchment, and all others, which gave occasion tp tha teAng oat ^4 
this in Qur forefiithers days. 




By a certain great Pod laieljf deceft^df MS* 

BUT what are these to great Atossali mind ? 
Scarce once herself, bv turns all womankind. 
Who with herself, or others, from her birth, 
Finds all her life one warfare upon earth : 
Shines in exposing knaves, or painting fools, 
Yet is whatever she hates or ridicules : 


No thought adyances, but her eddy brain 
Whisks it about, and down it goes again. 
Toll sixty years, the world has been her trade, 
The wisest fool that time has ever made. 
Fifom lovdess youth, to unrespected age, 
No paawon gratify*d, except her rage : 
So much the fury still out-ran the wit. 
The pleasure miss'd her, and the scandal hit* 
Who breaks with her, provokes revenge from hell, 
But he's a bolder roan, who dares be well : 
Her ev'iy tarn, with violence pursu'd, 
Kor more a storm her hate, than gratitude. 
To that each passion turns, or soon or late. 
Love, if it makes her yield, must make her hate ; 
Siiptfioi% death ; — if equals, what a curse ? 
But an inferior, not dependent, worse* 
Oftsid her, and she knows not to forgive ; 
Oblige her, and shell hate you while you live. 
Bat die, and shell adore you, — then ttie bust. 
And temple too, — then Ml again to dust. 
Last niglit her lord was all that's good and great, 
A knave thi9 morning, and his will a cheat* 
Strange ! by the means, defeated of the ends. 
By spirit rd)b*d of power, by warmth of friends : 
By wealth of followers; without one distress, 
Sick of herself, thro' very selfishness : 
Atossa cun'd with eveiy granted prayer. 
Childless with all her children, wants an heir; 
To heirs unknown, descends th' unguarded store. 
Or wanders, heaven-directed, to the poor. 


yjbOtmmg Amid hone hem prefixed to the Dedaratioa of Francis 
Throckmorton's Treasons, in Vol. i. p. 5Sf?, and is here presemed. 

( 2>0 ) 




By Francis Tkrackmort<mf 

Who was for the same arraigned and condemned in Guyld-hall, in the 
citie of London, the one and twentie day of May last past. 15<4. 

Quarto, coDtainiog twenty-eight pagci. 

The following narration has in part been copied both by Uolliiigtod 
and Camden, yet not without the omission of several vtefal m nt- 
ccssary particulars to illustrate this part of the En^ith hktoxji 
which may be supplied by preserving this true and genuine ac- 
count, as there is sufficient reason to suppose was pmblttbed by M' 

When this traytor was brought upon his tryal, he denied wbat he had 
confessed at his examination, affirming, as Stow relates, that he had 
invented it on purpose to avoid the rack. But, says Camden, after 
Lis condemnation, upon the evidence of his own letters to the qneeo 
of Scots, and the papers found in his coffers, he owned all, and even 
made a more circumstantial declaration than at fijrst ; and yet, in hr 
vour to the queen of Scots, le&t such a confession should influence 
the people against her liberty, he again retracted and denied what- 
ever be had confessed ; to discover which prevarication, and to pre- 
vent any misapprehensions of the justice of his tryal and ex^ 
cutiqPi thb following true and faithful account was published. 

To the Reader* 

There is in this short discourse deliuered vnto thee, gentle reader, 
a true report of the treasons and practises of Francis Throckmortoo, 
and his complices against the quecncs maiestie and the rcalme; which 
comming to my handes by chance from a gentleman, to whom it wts 
sent into the countrey, 1 haue presumed to commit the same to the 
print, to the cnde that such as in opinion and conceite arc not satisfied, 


touching the matters proued against him, and the course of proceeding 
helde with him, might, by the sight thereof, if trueth and reason may 
perswade them, bee resolued of all such doubtes and scruples as haue 
risen by the variable reportes made of the qualitie of his offences, and 
the maner of dealing vsed towards him ; for the better knowledge where- 
of, I referre thee to the declaration following, and so commit thee to 

A Utter sent from a Gentleman of Lioni-Innef to his Friend, con^ 
ceming Francis Throckmorton, who was arraigned and condemned of 
high treason. 

** C YR, with my last letters of the first of June, I sent vnto you 
^ in writing the arraignement of Francis Throckmorton, penned 
by a gentleman of good skill and credite, being present at the same, 
and, because it hath seemed vnto me, that here is some scruple in 
your conceite touching the sufficiencie of the euidence produced 
against him, I haue, for your better satisfaction, endcauoured to at- 
taine to more particular knowledge thereof, and by the meanes of a 
aecret friend, there is come vnto my hands a verie perfect declaration 
of the whole proceedings, helde by such as were in commission for the 
examining of him, before his triall, containing the materiall points of 
the treasons by him confessed; whereunto there is annexed a submis- 
sion written by Francis Throckmorton to the queenes maiestie, the 
fourth of June, whereby he acknowledgeth that he hath vntruly and 
vnduetifully denied his former confessions, and vnder his own hand 
writing hadi eftsQones repeated and confessed the same confessions to 
be true (some fewe things onely detracted, but of no moment) which 
may in mine opinion reraooue all matter of doubt or scruple con- 
oeiued by you or by any other of his iust condemnation. You know 
bowe well 1 haue always loued the man, and delighted to converse 
with him in respect of the good partes, wherewith he was indued, and 
of the pleasant humour that for the most part did potsesse him when 
bee came in companie of friendes, yeelding at no time (to my seeing) 
any shew or suspition, to haue been a dealer in matters of that qua- 
lity; and therefore, I cannot but pitie his misfortune the more, wish- 
ing airmen to make profite of his fal, and to note, that miserie and 
cuamitie of this kinde doeth for the most part followe such as forget 
Ood, to whose protection I committe you. 

Your assured friend, 


From Lyon's Inne, 
the 15 of June, 1584. 

▼OL. zii. 

( 282 ) 



The most Reverend ff^'illiam Lord Archbishop of Canterbury^ to the Uni' 
versUy of Oxford^ when he resigned his Office of Chancellor, 


Published, by occasion of a base Libel and Forgeryt that runs under 
this Title. And also the Answer of the University to the said 

Oxford, printed by Leonard Lichfield, Printer to the IJnivonity, Anno Dom. 

1641. Quarto, containiug twelve Pages. 

To my very Uning Friends, the Vice-Chancellor^ the Doctors^ the Proctors^ 
and the rest of the Convocation of the University of Oxford. 

AFTER my hearty commendations, &c. these are to remember my 
love to that whole body : that love, than which never any chan* 
ccUor bore greater, or with more ferventness and zeal to the publick 
good and happiness of that place. And I do heartily pray all, and every 
of you to believe me, for most true it is, that the unfortunatencss of my 
affliction doth not trouble me for any one thing more, than that I can 
be no farther useful or beneficial to that place, which I so much love 
and honour. 

I was once resolved not to resign my place of chancellor, till I saw 
the issue of my troubles one way or other. And this resolution I took, 
partly because I had no reason to desert myself, and occasion the world 
to think me guilty: and partly, because I have found so much love 
from the university, that I could not make myself willing to leave it, 
till some greater cause should take me off from that which I so re- 
solved on. ^ 

That cause, if I be not much mistaken, doth now preseuF itself: 
for 1 see the university hath great need of friends, great and daily need. 
I see my trial not hastened ; so that I am neither able to assist your 
great occasions myself, nor procure friends for them ; I see that, if 
you had another chancellor, you could not want the help which now 
you do. And I cannot but know that, were your love never so great 
to me, it must needs cool, when you see me able to give no assistance, 
and yet fill the place which should aflbrd it to you. And I should 
liardly satisfy myself, that I love you so well as I do, if I did not fur- 
ther your good and happiness by all the means I can, and even by ibis 
my resignation. 


The serious consideration of these things, and the foresight which 1 
have, that I shall never be able to serve you as I have done, have pre- 
vailed with me at this time, to send the resignation of the chancellorship, 
to your body met in convocation. And I do hereby pray you, that it 
may be publickly read and accepted, the time being now most fit, that 
so your honourable succeeding chancellor may presently appoint an 
able deputy for the government according to his own judgment. 

And now I do earnestly desire of you all, either to remember, or to 
know, that I never sought, or thought of the honour of this place to 
myself; and yet, that, since it was by the great favour and love of that 
university laid upon me, I have discharged it, by God's grace and good- 
ness to roe, with great pains and care, and, God's blessing, I humbly 
thank him, hath not been wanting. And 1 profess singly, and from my 
heart, if there be any good which I ought to have done to that place, 
and have not done it, it proceeded from want of understanding or ability, 
not will or affection. And though I do, for the causes aforesaid, resign 
this place, yet I shall serve it still with my prayers, so long as God coi>* 
tinues my life. 

And as I doubt not, but God will bless you with an honourable 
chancellor, and one able to do more for that place, than I hafe been ; 
so I pray God, to give you a peaceable and quiet election, and to 
direct it to the good of this his church, and the honour and happiness of 
that famous university : that you may have no miss in the least of me, 
who, after your prayers heartily desired, now writes himself the last 

From the Tower ^ June 

25, 164 !• Your very loving poor Friend 

and Chancellor, 


AmpUmmo et Reverendissimo Domino Gulielmo Jrchi-PrcesuH 


Reverendisiime Archi-Prasul — Hoc enim solum Tibi (sic voluUti) Nomen 

relictum est — 

Novissimx liters tuse, amoris, sed & doloris, plense, fecerunt ut 
dehinc nos plan6 aere dirutos diruptosque profiteri debeamus. Cum 
effusissimo amori tuo, verbis (quod unicum nobis suppetit peculium) ut 
paria facererous, nunquam sperandum fuit; nedum dolori nostro verba 
nos reperturos paria ; ne si passis quidera eloquentiae velis vehi, & tot& 
doloris praerogativd frui liccrct. Hodic ver6, ut sunt tempora, ad jus- 
tissimum dolorem nostrum non levis hie accessit cumulus, qu6d eum 
insinu premere & quasi strangulare necesse habeamus; quibus ne illud 
quidem tutd qucri licet, in ea nos tempora incidisse, In quibus singulari 

T 2 


tos prudentis k erga nos amori consuldssimom visum tit, nostraque 
qukm maxinid interease, ut Res ac Fortunas nostras k tuis segieges 
habsamus 6c sejunctas. Quanquam vero supremo Numini sic 
visum est, ut illud nobis beneficii loco imputandum haberes, qadd 
maximum beneficiorum tuorum, Teipsum, k nobis segreg^uvs, ic Can- 
cellarii munus abdicares ; affectustamen tuus erga Academiam nostram 
propensissimus, tum Uteris tuis novissiroisy tum aliis frequentibos argu« 
mentis abund^ testatus, dubitare nos non sinit, quin, deposito invidioto 
Canc^larii titulo, amantissimi Patroni afiectum adhuc in sinu too 
retineas. Quamdiu Manuscripta * ilia cti^i^XM tua, Orientis spolia, 6c 
verd ix/tf htAhiuukn Bibliothecam nostmm illustrabunt ; quamdiu Lectura 
Arabica, k Te f dotata, frequentabitur ; quamdiu Antiquitatis vindices 
timul 6c testes antiqua t Numismata visentur; quamdiu castigpUior 
discipHna, mores emendati, morumque Canon Statuta vigebunt; 

3uamdiu pro studio partium bonarum Artium studia colentur ; quam* 
iu literis honos, honori liters erunt, Cancellarium adhuc esse Te, 
sentiet praesens ^tas; fuisse, postera agnoscet. Dehinc, immortali- 
tatis securus, glorisequc tuse supcrstes, diu htc posteritati tuae interus; 
ac demum, ubi mortalitatis numeros omnes impleveris, plenus annis 
abeas, plenus honoribus, illis etiam quos abdicasti. Ita vovet 

Dai. ^ Domo Cowoeat, 

Amplitudmi Tu€s omni cuMt ac olh' 

ieroantitt nexu devmciinimaf 

AcAttEMXA Oxoir. 


* M88. Cod. plos qa^ MCCC. De qaibDS (das qnim CCCXXX limis OrienUl. acripti, Ac 
mm\6 miniit C. Ung. Or. t SaUhum ProfesMru Ting. Arab XL. lb* AnaoK. X H«br. OrKc. 
AMnaa. Famil. ft lapcri Britaaak* 


F l umm tr mti Brtmk, Printen, Zave-Lntt, 










ABBET of Lci«fftrr, cardinal Wols«y arrivM tbere fron York • tv. AM 

Abbim, the viftiUtioD ofUieiD. bj Hsnry VIII. . - • . riii. 306 

, which were plander«d by WiNiiun the Conqaeror • • i*. 46S 

Abbot, archbUhop, bis re»isUoc« of illegal taxes . . • • %H, 00 

Aberdeen, the provoit of, declaration of penoni fitted for tnnt • z. t34 

Abjamtion, Tarious casea of it stated ..•..•t. 9i> 

Abealom's Cooapiracy, a atatcment of its natnre . . - • . viii. HfH 

* -^ — , counteracted by Hushai - • - • — 4^9 

Absence, Declaration on Don Sebastian's . . . • . ii. SQ^ 

, ditto ditto , - . - — - 405 

■ - ■ , an onaccunnfble one of Wm. Haniseo^ gent* ... viii. 8^ 
Abuse of the name of Eastathius • ..••*• ri. 6o 

■ ea th4 public in the price of coals .-..•. viii. 59 

AbusM and errors In Che Laws discovered ▼!. 3M 

Acndemy for Quacks •.... viii. 135 

- , the Requisites for forming - — — 136 

Accident, a serious one in the exchange • • - • • vi. 3S5 

Accidents, slranf e ones in tlie Moful's k)ogdom • • • • • iU. 4tti 

Accommodations, the advantages of an office for . . . « __ 138 

Accomplices in tlie plots and conspiracies of the tpaniards * viiL 150 

Accnsalion of John, lord Much ...-••• iv. SI7 

Accosations, tiie promoters of des<*ribed • • . • • . viii. 419 

Accusing, Che use of it to the godly ....••• vii. 78 • 

Achitopbel, his true character reprc^nted ...... viil. 479 

Achmet, his election to be Emperor of the Tarl9 ..-■•. v. J6J 

■ dream about Mustapba • — — 184 

■■ reception of Mustapha — — 185 

■* declaration of a successor ...-•<- — )86 

Acosta, Joseph, natural history of the Indies ..... jii. 1^7 

Acres, or space of ground within the waHs of Ix>ndon .... vii. 331 

Act, for protecting the uerson of (|ueen Elisabeth • • • • . ii. 7 

^—, for the purpose of restrrtining uames, titles, dec. .... ^it. 55 

AclKon, an applicntion of hb story ...«..•• vii. 418 

Actions of princes, who to be judges of them • ..... 1. 9 

Acts of the late parliament •• vii. 58 

Adders, snakes. &c. an insnltin^ character of - • - . - . v. 439 

Address for a French war in I609 • i. 74 

, Sir Robert Sherley's, Co his native conntry of Eagltfd - ' iii. 94 

■■ ■ to Charles, prince of Wales ..... — • 115 

■ ■■ to parliament. Sir Edward llarwood'a .-•■••¥. Itf0 

■ ■■ -■ on the klngfs to the Iroeholdtri of Yorkshirt - • • . — M( 

• •• 

IlfDKX. Ill 

Argyle u envied by the emperor Donkiaa ..•«.« -. ^ 

Afripp*, Cornnlias, hit wrcoaDtof Pope Joea • • - « • It. 91 

Axaes, Hartm^n's recommendetion of tobacco eftlnst • . - • xi|. si 

Afaesaems, his tabmiMion to be governed by Haman • • . • tUI. 374 

AhithopbcLs, a reference to modem ones --•>•• is. 381 

Aid on the contitient, Uie necettity of the Eaglbh . • • . tUi. lis 

ofMons, D'Estree* to the Englisb, very doabtfnl • • • . — » 148 

Aides, Des, an excise of France described .-...• x* 109 

Aiding felony, Frankling hanged for it •••-••• vi. 9 

Aiaeonius, wrote history before the time of Pope Joan • - • • iv. 5t 

AJari, a strange phoenomenon there stated ••-••• s. I89 

Alban, St. the first English Christian Martyr li. 4<Sb 

Albans, 8t. on Young's ^uds in the pos^ffice there • • • • z. 30 

Albemarle* doke of, on his liononr - .••... ^il. 4Sk5 

AJberkk, earl of Hainanlt, the restorer of Mons • • • • • si. 93 

■ ■ — , description of his castle - - - • ._ 94^ 99 

, his wall deBoIished - - • - - — . 9^ 

AJberoa, prince, the fonnder of Mons ..«...• — 9^ 

, his tower -.- .^91 

Albert, archduke of Aostria, improves and ttrengthent Mons - • — lOS 

Aldersgate, on the meeting of Quakers there - • • - - vi. 43r 

Ate and strong beer, a vindication of ..•.••• ..^9 

Alegraoaa island, without iahabitaDts •-••-••iii. 177 

Alehoose-keepers, the dutjr of tliem ..-.•.. — igf 

Aleppo, trade thither for pigeons carried o» hy "Fnaet • . . viii. I4iy 

Alewife of England, an humonrous description of . . • . . lit. 470 

Aleanuider, an account of his treason .•••.*- ij. 3^ 

— III. pope, his insotence to the Bmperor - - • • Iv. 44 

« J. pope, Borgia Cesar's measoret for him - • - • lU. AS4 

is poisoned by Csesar Borgia • • -•••▼, tg% 

— ■ pop«» • dispute with Mm •-•-•• vl. AM 

Atexandria, tiie Turkish gallies drawn up dear to It • - - • liU 38 

- ■ to Jeresalem, tliw journey of two pilgrims from - • — 3gS 

■ ■ , return of two pilgrims from Jerusdem towards it • — 34i 
- — — - ■ , the two pilgrims arrive at the city of • • • • — 344 
Alfred, earl Goodwin's conduct towards him . . . • . ~. 19 

, enquiry into his being at Rome stated ' • • - • iv. 5S» 53 

, on Hoveden's silence about it •-•---• — - 65 

Algerines, less perfidious than the Dutch •«.-.. vii. 515 

Algier, the emperor Charles V*s enterpriae against it - - - - i. 831 

-^— , the effecUofawarwithitsUted viii. 3]|g 

■ - ', a description of the town or dtjr of - • - - • - — — 39S 
AU^iance, enquiry about it, and to whom it is due • - • - - i. oi 
- ' ■ - •, oath of, to be required from papists • - • • - li. S78 

, the oath of, refused by Humphrey Uoyd - - - . Hi, g^ 

Allegory, the discourse of the Vocal Forest . . - . . riii. 134 

Allen, cardinal, aa account of bira •.•^••"•ii. si^ 

-, Sir Thomas, attacks the Duteh Smyrna fleet • . . • viii. 398 

" ■, William, on killing no murder .---••- Ix. tt4 

AUestree, Mr. his account of Toang's frauds stated - • • • x. Q% 

Alliance, the triple one of England. Holland, and Sweden • - vii. 56a 

•—- of duke of Burgundy with England .... xii. 9 

■ ■ James Ps arobitioMS view of, its error • • - - • — — £6 

All'maa-sir, bis story of a sea-fight - . viii. 10 

Almoner to the king, Wolsey is apprtntad .<•.••!▼. 493 

■ to oueen Henrietta, the bishop of Meodt .... xii. ^ 
Alas-honse tor batchelors. an eodowment of one proposed • xli« £0i 
Abns-hoosf s. observations about county ones • .... Tiii. 190 
Alpinos, Prosper, en the coffee tree . . . ^ . • . z}}. fi 

Alrena, a drscriptionof it -..-xi. 353 

Alva, duke of. his cood net in the Netherlands stated .... v. 176 

' - ■ cruelty distinctly represented « - - - . vii. 5tt 

Alvares de Luna, a tyrannical Spamsh minister ..... ^iii. 579 

Amasons, on their having lame gallants ...-.-.x. 390 

Ambassador, Cornelius Haga is sent to Constantinople ... iu. siS 

————, the Spanish memorial of « - -- - . - . viii. 530 

, the French one. his opposition to Dover harbonr • > x. 444 

-, Colbert de Croissy, tae Frend> one, aeeount of • • ix. 3 

— ■ — — — , his dealings against Hollanders • — 5 

•^ — ■ — , procures secret treaty with England — — <6. 

-* , answer to the English -...•.- yI. S36 

Ambassadors, the Britons send tJMra to Caesar - • - • - ii. 419 

Aaibassles. on the utility of them - 239 

Ambassy of Cornelius Ilsga to Constantinople iii. SIS 

- ■ , De Groot*s in Frnnce, an account of .... - Yii. 5ig 
Anbilion and excess of bishofs stated •• 

• ■ , a discussion of the nature of it ...••• viii. 3tS 

Amboyna, on the Dutch cruelties there ]•.*.*• viL A99 

' ■, on the Duteh cme Itiei flfftbtr stated ...... 

AM!nihi> archbishop of, W» Ubtt ••••••-. 


jIninH, BK tlianDBJw *r F.Mllihin It 

— — rrfift* U»* prqih nd iiantMii add • 

AHriln;. ■•htmin'ta Om [.uhrmuliitL Anam - ■-■*!.» 
Am«lul«,lheprHniil(d MiiaiBr. cifcllrd MU, ffa 

Msphm, rti(«r iithiiniuDo is Cwir - II. 4M 

4Khiin. iB>nd«i>ril>nBlijLiif-i'uuui itC th 

Ss."'HSSl-^:,-'' ': ': ■; ■; '; '; '; "it 3 

ABtiio?ni™u,™ubruii.i. "i™" .' -' * r ; ; : ~ JUS' 

A«|l<^ E.^^!i*rft'lhrw'| ofl ui™ ™k . '' - *. "J ". "i £ 

ABtnuBD Tvnn Itiwd. Uif r*l«'lliiu tlieii (MMd . • - . i>_ ^g 

«aj«. FRidiilBlxif, prtonDrilalW ■' •' .' .' ." m! M* 

AwnliarUMt, (W.llaagMa. ■! or 

— , sr I»w1n I. br L'iMnnn ..... m. af , jif 

JMnsr Id [h> Enillth anbiiudan 
I - of^nsaru LsiU u» feiDt Chirlu'v Irai 
MMi^M. KMwIil. hi* Ufr Hud WijU 

(Ditji orpHiSammilnUUil 
■rrhbltliop an uiBaDii>g«fir|riif>t JoBu 

AfiMMij (.Bd dlHinHluiDBartha Dale) 

An^iwirftqinHitrLt^antsn '. . . ' lik hji 

A|plU'>t,eu.Bt<r»iiiai»«>V'°>'D"'*<>rdCukcli<k . . , iKh. fU 
AppmHuiarUHidaB, iltrir bcMMdnritisn . - ■ • *. M« 

AfBlnj.frc.iiairlmlcdb; V«B| - ■- sj. «e. 

■JLIiiMa.dci'DiBmMfeil, fna lu Fn^raBCfl. qkIuVi ^^vy ... tui, f^ 

■Artwfla.ta iTH>KBed u doA-vt HBUlaadon *...!. 4** 

j4nhblihD|ilSilp»d. u>dDil.rr>.dBpi>>:Rl^VIIII>.ml. . iU. It* 

ARhUihn "ti" nr*"ti''i '".Sd"""' "aI,''' plot • - ■ . riU. lU, ftc 

i<i'.<r*, il.iii 

ArillBVBriof tl>r PrMUUK-ajIklBAIKIllflB-tBVflrDIBfrtlt 

1 ■ ■■ I qoffin tftit Uu )>roMn«*> |tntBH«t . 


Argjit. the last will of the marquis of li. 5Mia 

•^-— , the ehurmrier of the inarouU of • - - • - —.511 

, earl of, hit apeivb in pariiafltent ----- • iv. 480 

, oo hi» laiMiiug in Scotland * - - . - - is. 140 

- ■ ■ ■ ■ - , an account or hi* execaiii>a - - • « - - a. 99J 

Arias of Seville. Btt ac«-onut of him viii. 438, 4-1S 

A rievistus |lves assistance to the Sequanish Gauls . • • • - ri. 08 
Amtotle, bis dneription of a tyrant ia. Syt 

■ ■ , application of his description .--..--- — 3U4 

Anthmetitk, the utilitvofitiuted ▼!. 244 

Arlotte, the skiuner*s daughter of Normaadj ^ • • - • • iii. 119 
•———-, an account of her dream ... - .-.. ~.^, 
Affmada, the .Spanish, the orders found on board of, . - - . U. 43»&c. 
'* ■ -^1 of -Spain, obst rratioas upon the inviucible . . . . Ui. 510 

— -^t on the nature 6f its f quipment • - - • - — <6. 
— , Theodore B«-s.t's porn* on the drfeat of it - - • - - — 517 

Armado, on tiie Spanish invincible one of 1568 - - . . . vii. 5iS5 
Aimagh in Ir*-lan(l. the aichbiMiop of, treated wirh ridicule . • . t. 548 

• ■ , Dewditll, the pnmate of, a violent p«pist - - - viii, 541^-543 
Armament Vj »ea recommended to goveromeut • • - - - t. SOS 
Arouiud, carJiQiil of, Richelieu, account of him . • - • • ._ s.^ 

, hi* epitiph -•• - .- --t^. 

Armies, on the Utile drp«|ndance of nificenary ones • - • , • vii* 40 

— I — , first regularlj paid by Koronns .-•-•• u. 483 

Arminians, are distinctly favoured b> archbishop Laud . • • . iv. 450 

, a JMuit's remarks on them ---■- ••la, S^f 

.sentiments of Jesuits about them ..---« xU, dg 

Armioios, Stewart the ghost of him -....-.-t. 543 
Arms, success of William 1. in the use of .... . • iii. 195 
•— - , tlie Normans were accustomrd to their use .... - -~ 154 

» causes of the cessation of in Ireland .-.-..▼. 555 

-^— , Ac. solicited for Charles I. from Denmark - - . . ... 547 

— — ,of Johnof Avesunes .- • - xi. SQ 

Army, of the faults to be avoided in it U. 9^. 00 

-— of king of Swedeland sent into England • . • . . iii. 15t 

•——of Scotland, articles for it -▼. 4«^ 

— • is solely commanded by count Oberstein in Germany ... — 474 

— — , a word in support of it • - • vi. 65, Itc. 

— — , prince of Orange's, a description of •-••-• it. 8I9 

, account of the Imperial One ....•- -«ai. SflU 

Arnt*s True Chnstianity, a book so named •• •• * • ix. 83 
Arquenues. account of the haitle of - • • - • - - - xi. 113 
Arques, William, duke or*, makes a claim upon Normandy - • - iii. m 

•-— . trial, and condemnation ot Robert Orewrts ... ... 59 

Arraignment of the traitors in the gunpowder blot • • • • — 4tf 

^— duke of Norfolk, an account of it - - - - . ia. K5 

Arras, the treaty of, staled .--. viii. 8^ 

Arrest of Northam|.'ion, Somerset, Sze. for muidcr of sir Thomas Over* 

bury ▼. 301 

Arrests or attachments, renmrks on them ... . .. xi. 59 

Arrival, on the qu' en's, with her rece|>tion, at Bath - • - • t. 53f 
Arrow snd bow, the use of them in biitile ...... iii. 145 

Artliingtun, II enry, an account uf his book . - . - • . rii. SCO 
Arthnr, the king, his entcrpnzrs >.-.. -> • ii. lof 

— , Gawen, the nepiicw of, h'S sepuU hre -•-••• Ui. Ifi^ 
Articles o( afsreement with Luciter slated . > > - • • iv. 30$ 

— — — for theaimy of Sc.iiland --v. 4f9 

——of agreement with the Irish Catholicks ... .... 40^ 

■ of the solemn leazue and covenant .... • • vl« 151 

-, on treaty of the 56 • • — S63 

-, nniforinl V violated by the Dutch . • - - • • vii. 539 

-'<——, cxhit'iiedfasainst mismanagement, &c. • • - • • z. 3ft9 
Artifice of Cromwell against Fairfax « .-.--•- vii. 80t 

of Cuueus, the pope's legate - viii. 109 

Artificers, the nature of their duty ..-.-•-•vi. tt% 

, Stern's address to them • - • is. 55 

Artillery house at Venice described . - . . - • - xii 73 
Arrimedorut, hi<« dream-book .••.••-.-xi. 464 
Arts of Mrs. Turner and countess of Somerset • * - • • vi. p 

— , a plan for improving them - • - — 143 

, on the expediency of teaching them to all persoBS - • - — 145 

Arviraxus, bis government as king in Britain • if. 45) 

AmruJel, Thomas, archbishop of Canteihurv. persecutes Lollards • i, SUi, &c. 
.1 , earl and count* ss of, favourers of papery • - . • viii. 10B 

■ ■ V , countess of, a khe^champion of the pojiish reli^on - • • — foj 
■ ■ ■ , private conferences with the pope's legate -^ ^. 
Atapb, St. bishop of, letter to him from archbishop - . > . x. 8t 

, answers to archbishop of Cautcrborj . - - ... 94 

Ascham, the schoplmaster to the c^ucsn .-.'...ii. 9(V 

— , Anfliooy, aa account of hit death x'\, tH 


^iKeasion, Isle of, • description of it xU 191 

^UolU* • torture of the iDoaisition - ' . vbi. 481 

4a)iforci, rector of, Mefj Hull's fklsities about him x. S$ 

Aihtoo, colonel, his p»rlrjr nt KeAdlng. in Berks vL f 1 

■ j Mrs. refased christiea barial, beuuse • protesteat • • - s. tao 

Ashnr, cardinal WoIsot is sent thitlier ir. 598 

Aekeaei» the fntber of the Oerman nation •••••• tU 9S 

4ykev, sir George, his eiploiu in the Went Indies • • - • is. 433 

i^asassios, the rescne of James Viteli from bjr Placidoi .... .^ ^% 

/kiaemblies Catechism, the fanatick's diTioitj • . - . - yiii. 81 

^Meembly of divines, an account of them • • • - .t. 37 

— of Cobleau, the duke of Saaony meets it ... - — 46lt 

, Stemhofd fisTourfd by oue ....• *. —dl 

■ m. maa, a porirmt of one ••id.Af 

■ , repartee of Mr. Selden to it ...-•-. — A8 

■ I ■ map, use of lorimers to one ... .... ...te 

' man, compared with Hngh Peters * • . . •> — . M 

/Msertions on tTthes. the protector's false ones ...... — flOV 

^Usises at Huntiugdon, the singular jury there . . • • • iiL 39q 

-—— ft York, Serjeant Thorpes charge to the jury at - • • • ri. iqQ 

Awociation, for defionding queen Elisabeth and her goYemnent ii. - i 

f ■ , pretended ope, to restore king James • • • | • s« 88 

^Mtrologer, account of nerlicius '. -.iv. 190 

^tlroli^caliodgroents, en the futility of . • • . . . fii. sijO 

iknrlum of Charles II. at BoecobeUhouse and oak - • • • • vi 848 

^aliah, the case of killing by Jehoiadah . . • . . x. 900 

jithinasius. St. brief notes on the creed of .... xH. 189 

Atheism, an attempt to describe what it is • xi. 808 

Athelstlcaljpplitictao, a descripUoo of iv. Ml 

^theliag, Edgar, the darling of Englishmen ... . . • vi. (IQ 

s , said to be disHked by the people is. 94S 

y -', supersede by Harold the Usurper ...... -i^. iSii 

JUhelred encounters the paoish invaders - • . . • • iv. 0f 

Athenian government, the danger of changing represeatod . • . ._ 4B7 

Athenians, their claim to the invention of wrestling • • .. • . ii. 338 
^kthcns, on die time of an university there .... . •rr»8S 

•— — — ,the statnaiiesof, were chusersofthdirgods viii. 371 

Atkins, Richtfd, hi* martyrdom at Rome ii. 8€7 

Ikttackuiients or Arrests, regsarks oa them ... . -xi. fi6 
Attack of priace tLuprrt on the parliament forces at Brentford • • vi. 18, If 

AttacoU. their invasion of Britain IL 49f 

Attainder, a bill of, against the earl of Strafford iv. 409 

m * » • "potion for, against cardinal Wolsey ... — 540 

f and treason, the nature of, stated v. -'AS 

. of Shane O'Neal, who is slain — 78 

Attempt upon England, Philip of Spain's design to make ... viii. 340 

' to force a strong enemy, the danger of . • . . . •.> 350 

Attempts, popish ones, to pervert the English • • ii. 811 

AttUa, leader of the Huns xu 3U 

Attornies, or Attorneys, the increasing evil of their number - • > iii. A9f 

■ , account of their inianities vtii. 30 

» ■ , on their service of five years ... .. --xi. 36 

Atwater, John, his case of treason stated v. 63 

Aobigay, lord, slfin in the fight at Edgehill vi. 17 

Auburn hills, in Wilts, on the skirmishes there ..... _ gg 

Aodadty, its necessity to a quark viii. 137 

|kodley, lord, his valour at Foictiers ... .... — x^ 

■« , beheaded on Tower-hill, and quartered • • • . xi. ^27 

Avenant, D', on the balance of power in Eiii ope . . - . . j\\, AS 

Avaniinus,Johannes, an authority of hiile credit ... > > iv. 15 

t version of lung Charles to the puritans - . viiL 840 

vesnnes, prince John of^ his unnatural war, fnd death - - • xL gs 

Augusta, ^account of its destruction by an eartliquake ... . x. igg 

^qgostus, presents ar^ transmitted to him from the Britons ii. 480 

— , the ghost of Yiil. Sfl 

w , his taxation of the whole world i&. 4h1 

» I Csesar, his mausoleum ....*... xji. iq^ 

Aolic council, an account of it xi. S77 

Aiunale, defeat of Uie diike of Parma there ..... . ui, 543 

Aiisig, the history and deMription of it •> *•••-> xl. 3jg 
|kttsun, St. omits Felix II. as a pope - • iv. 68 

■ ' -jhis account c^ the pope as head of the church ... — 10^ 
^Astria, on thf state of Walsteiu there • ~- 198 

-, house of, its riglit to the Spanish succession - x. 48S 

(archduchy of, the boundaries of it • • • . - - xi. 879 

.. -, a defcription of the country .^ 8B1 

AJithor ofanti-normanism, or Iforman yoke uncaiad * - - . vi. 175 

rr-— of a plot, whether Mr. Sindercombe was la .... • ix. 887 

A^tMlSr tad pojrvr, th» origlB of ttatatf vi. u^ 

riTDSic. vfi 


4«thorSCy of tht pop« in England dUcarded .*.... riii. 30t 

■■I - , how far from God, or from men . . • • • . js. SSL 

■ " — and will of a king, how ihey differ - - • - « — 96(1 
Aotbors, a discus&ioo upon origiDal ones ••... ..W. 9flf 

Auiumn. whether it i» a proper season at Bath • . . . • — 11^ 

Awake, O EngUnd ! an invitation to Charles II. vli. 00 

AMon$, as a meridian, compared with (ius magpet .•••-* ifl 


Babel and Babjion, remarks on them ..--• • • vt, 

Jlabin^n's plot agatnst queen Elisabeth • • . • - - iii. d1 

Babylon and Babol, some observations relating to • • • • tI. If 
Bacchus Bonntie, a satyr upon drankarda • •• • • -iLM_ 

— • , Philip Voulface* the author of • - • » • — iW 

Bacon, Sir Francis, his cases of treason ••-••»•▼. 1# 

-, Sir Nicholas, an account of him ....»., -• ifA 

; Sir Francis, his speech on arraigning SomefMt • * • • - «- 90m. 

, lord, on freedom of writing -•..... viii. flpf 

Bagge^udding. on being called London's jof .•••.•!«. 4^ 

Baglhot, account of the family of Love near it 

Bahama islands, their importunce illustraled • . . • . si* ■ 

Bailiffs, their iniquities stated ..•..••• viil. 59 

— - ■, on their reqniriog bail-bonds, &c. •-••.• Jii. M 

— , on their fees and extortions . - - -.••— if^ 

Baily, fined and imprisoned for rescuing Kirton . . - . . x. fsi^ 

Balnea, sir Thomas, died of the plague ....... ^U. lot 

Baker, tec. chaplains to archbishop Lund ...... It. tf& 

— 's Chronicle, on tlie parliament of que«> Marj .... iriil* dV6 

-«——, rear admiral, instructions given to him- • • - • > zi. 7B 

Bakers* oa the daty of the» vi. in 

Balanoo of power, on England's preserving it .-•••• *i. Uti 

, its statement bj D'Avenaai xii. dft 

Baldock b made lord chancellor of England • I. 10# 

Baidwia, provincial of English jeaaits in Flanders • • • . viii. 15tf 

— — — , father, an account ofnis intrigues - . • , , .i^ tM. 

■ III. earl, his wail demolished at Mons • • - ' - • lA. j0 

• IV. earl, or the builder, his improvemont of Moos - - . —IS* 

, his wall demolished at Mons • - - • • — « {(^ 

Bale, a sketch of bis interesting life -^L tOt. 

-— — , his corned V or interlude of John Baptist in tho Desni • - • — SOS 

-— ^ Bp. John, bis Chronicle of sir John Oldcastle . . • * — Oift 

■ , his account of sir John, or lord Cobbam's trial . - — ftt. 
•— , John, hb vocacyon to the bishoprick of Osaorie . . • . .-. SflB 
, his account of Ood's worship from* time to tino . . • .^^ ssA 

- tlie Irish priests and bishops ... - — 94ft 

■ ■, his honesty defisnded ---. -• . -It. 91. 

Bstlard's plot ^ainst queen Elisabeth iU. m 

Balls and dancing supported to excess .>••*•• ^iik 4B 

Balsas of the West Indies described viL 10B 

Balshall and Bernard's cases of treason ...... ▼. fl^ 

Balthasar, on an owl's terrifying him .... * . • it. 44 

— —*-^-, strange appearances on his being tlccttd pope ... ... tf^ 

Bambridge, archbishop of York ........... 49^ 

Beikcroft, his opposition to Jesuits ........ vli|. 919 

Beads, the parliament of white ones --..•.•.•!. fQ^ 

, when they were first worn • -•.•••!▼• fl9 

Benishlag papists, on the necessity of • > • - • • - la. Si4U 

Banishment of the English students from Rome, and' reeel - • • ii. t09- 

Bb&ks of credit, the nature of them stated •-. . . . . -b, Sf4> 

Baeqoet, on cardinal Wolsey's sumpiuoos one ..... {^^ ggg. 

of king Uenry VIII — M4 

Btotam, the siege of it described ..•.. . •is.4B 

■ ■ — , on the English being favoured there • • - > * • vi. tt^- 
Barbadees, island oC English army at Oastie-Bertkere .•••«!• 9ff- 

— — , the state of the planters in that island • - - • . Ix. 49^ 

Bsrbailno, cardinal, his connections in England - • • . • tUL lf0- 

Berbers, on their paying for licences in FrMce ... . -a, 911^ 
Barcelona, its preservation from the French > ... --sLlf- 

Bbrgeman, his first dialogue with tiie ferrymea ..... ^m, gg^ 

, bis second dialogue with ditto .* M9» 

Bbrgen, marquis of, sent to Spain •.... .. -t. Iff- 

Barulon, mons. the Frence ambassador, resists "D^ftv haitoar • • «• 44f 

Berkeley, lord, en snrreadering his lands •• 4f9> 

Bhrker, Mr. Christopher^ printer, not iostrectsd lis the biislnsH • • «Mr Mf- 

■ ■ "- , accused of snppressiegtlMbiMe . « • •» m^ 

Bteistead, colonel, or lord, his aerltadescrlM •••«!, 4m. 

■ i tht p<t»on tngeged to Hpother Siadtrc— b • ii. 3 


fU. P^c 

^flrmbow Hall, M«tof •irThonat Oaflcoifnie,proe«edlnp at » * viU. ^ 

, latter to, on sir Ednundbury Oodfjrej*a nrardv . * — 419 

Barnacle for the tongwi, a deacHption of one • • ' • . »- 425 
BariMrrelt, oioni. a ahrewd and keen plotter .•...«— ffc 

■ I ■, hU connection with OondaoBore's popish plots . . . .^ £49 

Bjihistabla, an account of its sobmittinit to parliament • • • • ^ 91 

B^ronios, the papist's cardinal historiof rapber • - • Jhr« 99 
* • I , bis (menrations on Pone Joan, unfair infnenceii tu» • — . 44, iw, 

Saroua, their resoluu attarlc on Unph Spencer • . • • - L lOt 

Barrago in Firance, a description of it • - -.. x. SIT 

Barratrjr, vbat it is- •«•••.••-- ^. lis 

Barratt, a mb assa dor of France to Spain tti. 944 

Bftrrels of gunpowder discovered .-.•• ....i.fgir 

Banreimess, Bath waters good against it • Iv. Itf 

B^frimore, earl of, on Young's cbaplainry ... x. tfl 

BvTowe, Henry, his examination upon religion • .-. . . ii.ll 

Btftemal Lndoricns, on means of crossing tbe Arabian ^eayts* • vlf. IflB 

Barton, Elisabeth, maid of Kent, attainted of treason . • ▼• 84 

Bvwic^, lice called covenanters there .«••.. • iv. 495 

,, aceouut of a foraging party near it>- .••. ■«> 498 
i ' , instracttoae for its government ••-..▼. 10S 

BmU, a favoarer of Sodnus ••yL 90t 

BMtard, the great one, described -•...... ig, tn 

Bastards, no obstacle Co succession of govenament . - . . - JHi. ifo 

■ excluded from government in Franca . • . . . ^^ ^ 
Bastilo, mens L'Abbe Pnrni, confined in it tea days • . . ^ ix. 9 

, Bloomfield, the quaker, sent to it • - • • . • g. ffy 

Bostwick, or Bastwicke', Dr. relation of io star«hamber • « • • hr. ftO 

■ . , lord Cottiogum's censure of--- •• •• '^ 998 

, lord Finch's censure of him --•.. , , ..f^, 

» ■ , eaecutioB of the sentraee of him • - . • . • _ |^ 

■■ , his speech in the pillory -.--... «. ma 

, his blood the lieraid of archbishop's Und*s fait . - . » 4$ 

■ , and others, ihrir keenness in smelling superstltioa • • viii. 411 
)■ , and others, their inveterate maliee agatnit monarchy - xii. 87 

Batavia, the Dutch there avist th« Tnbanites ix. 4F 

Batriielori, the remonstrance of agsinst the lad^e^ petition • • • x. I78 

■ petition, a reply to it •«. .^ j^ 

Batdielors, a proposal for taxing tibem - - • . • • • sii. 900 

, an alnis>honse to be endowod for, and bow . • •' • .^ foi 

Bates, his arraignment for the powder plot --•.• • ill. 45 

>, eaecuted for treason in St. Paurs church-yard • . • . ... 4^ 

Thomas, the servant of GateslMr^ how a party to the ]4ot • • vlH* 158 

— ■ ■■ ■ , is takep priaoner and examined - • * .. i5g 
' "■ ■ , is comkoined and eseented for treason - • • .-. tsg 
^th, the baths of, an aoconnt of > • - > • • - • iv. lio 

-, diseases for which the waters are beneficial - - • - • — 119 

the best seasons for the watrrs of-*- -•.. .. 114 

-, the autumn, whether a proper SFason there • -- • «.])8 

•, waters, the manner of osiog them ....... _ i^ 

-, watrrs, the use of by Dr. Ouidott •• ~~. 1S5 

■■ , observatkoos upon them ..|ft, 

—~-, watrrs, the virtues of them stated -- — j£7 

•— — , the waters of cause a dyeing tinge or cologr • • . .. if(| 

r—, the queen of England's arrival there -...«- ^. 537 

~^-, knights of, manner of their creation in peace vii. 155 

Baths of dame Anais a Clare, at Hoxton, near London . - . . iU. fg^ 
—i*-, or an account of thjB hot waters at Bath •*-•-!▼. llo 
Battle, the white one, and why so called ..-.. . -i«90 

1 — » of Stamford bridge in Yorkshire iii. lag 

-, of Hastings, and death of Harold ...... ... 14Q 

, a stratagem used in it .--■,-- _ ]^ 

- ■ , above 6OOO Normans slain tliera ...... 144 

', use of bow and arrow in - — I45 

-, of Tory, on the plido near it — 54s 

of Lotacn, a copious acooont of it . • . . « . hr. ig) 

of f rend) and Scotch, snd defeat of both by the English • . viii. 107 

of Crassy, an account of it x. figf 

■ ■ Poictiers, a description of it---- • .- ~. fgj^ 
" ■ Aginoourt, a relation of • •.- 305 

— ■ Bosworth-field, an account of it--- -. . _ 91Q 
■■ Hons, with the glory of the prinee of Orapge tliere • . - .. 550 

■ ' Seneff, and of the Boyne in Ireland •.••-. — f^ 
■- ■ the Boyne, the effects of it---- - • - — 557 
Battles, between the Romans and Britons . • - - ii. 48t 

of CoBsar^ expelling the Britons from thn woods - ' - - • — 4C5 
of CasMbelin and the united Britons with the Bomant ..... 4(8 

- of the united Britons undir Voadicta -. 449 

betweta tiM Ordovicti aad Agfioola «. 41^ 

lavmrfo, ttnbbontiiiff ID the wtty to the college tbwt - • • • W. 46 
', the elder Otho, gorerDor of*--- •- • — JM 
, dnke of, hypothetical ergoment of hie revolt . . • ^m. ||f 
» ■ ' ', elector of, supported bj France - - . - - - jd. 1B# 
" ', tlie electorate of, always dangerous to the empire . . - — JW 

Baxter, his obsenra(ioD» on toe subject of amusements . • • • viu. ail 
Beyly aod others eapelled at Oxford ... .... vL 194 

Beecoos, cautions necessary to be attended to on firing them • » ▼. Mf 

— — — 1 I on g n a r d in g them , . — gst 

Bearbleck, Mr. a proctor of the university •- - •• •▼!. Al 
Bean, on colonel Pride's murder of them ... - . « iriU* 189 
Beasts, venomous ones* on St. Patrick's driving from Ireland * • • iv. 4i 

■ , divers sorts of them have stated seasons of remove! *. • - ▼. 5Qt 
Beenty, a dissertation upon it-.-<-***-*U. MO 
Becher, John Joachim, his account of Weneeslnns . . • • . vilL dfS 

■ Dr. a vltnets of Wenceslaa^s experimeatt . . — 46* 
Beka, or Pichau, an account of it . • • • • . • > xl. 9t$ 
Beckett archbishop of Canterbury, his insolent coadact • • • • iv. 4fit 

" , Thomas a, his usage of king Henry II. . . • • - x. ggO 
Becock, John, the mock king of Munster -•••"".▼. 4aS 
Bedford, eacl of, governor of Berwick ....••• -. ffl( 
*■ ■ county, on the petitions from it---«**-vi. Ml 
-» ' ■, duke of, an account of his death «•-••* x. SOS 
Bedminster, near Bristol, Kavlor's proMesioa et it • • • - vi. dttl 

Beer and ale, a vindication of •• —ft 

Beersheba, Timberlake's account of it - •• - - • •ill. Igf 
Beeson, Dr. a violent pepist, tutor to the vrioee of Welae • • • x. AM 
BoKgars, their petition against popery to Heary VIII. . . • • i. fiy 
Belfore, sir William, a statement of nis valonr ••••••Ti.17 

, his breaking through the kin|^s enuy • . > .. gf 
Bell, on the image of Pope Joan - .•-••••iv. 19 

—— and Lacy, their ceses of treason ..•••••t. |^ 

Beliarmlne, cardinal, on the popes of Rome • - - - - • iii. 

, on Pope Joan -..•.... • ie. "" 

, his observations on Krantins end Pontaana - - — tl 

■ unjustly accuses Plaiina of being a compiler • • * - — tt 
, on the owl's appearing at Balthasar^s electioa • - — w 

■ deeirea to clear Hononns of associating with heretic "^ ^ 

■ I - and Baronius, their account of images . . . • . — . |§ 
- on the nature of defective teatlmoM .... .. ^ 

————— allows the existence of Pope Joan, bot outplaeee her - • — 80 

■ I mistakes the duration of Iter popedom ..... .. ^ 

-1 states the want of schoola in Pope Joan's time . - • « — • 8* 

, theDoIiahofRome, confenndeoby Whitnker - - • vi. go* 

Belleorombe, the Spaniards defeated at it iii. 648 

Belbnan, the British one, or public crycr •> vi. 181 

Bellows-mender of Pimlico, account of ••'••"-• ie. ty^r 

■ menders from llollaad deacribed . . • • • • v. Sgg 
Belman wanted a clapper ....-..•iv. 89^ 
Bclvoir Castle, a Pindarick Ode, in praise of it . » - - viil. 8M--8BO 
Benefiting, on the natnre of, and its oppoMte -«-•«• ia. 108 
Bcnno, cardinal, on the authority of popea - - ... • iiL 808 

, author of the life of llild^rand - - • ... iv. 5y 

Benock's stables broken open by Grant the conspirator ... ^. igf 
Bergen St. Winnock, the surrender of it • • x. 417 

, er the liiU, near Mons, an account of - • - • • xi. M 

op>Zoom, Colhoru's fortification ofit**^ •• — 188 

nsis, Philippus, on Pope Joan .... .•• hr.M 

, on the stool of easemcat • • - . • — 17 

, Trithemios's testimony of him ...... ..§5 

' , Jacobus, a g«od historiographer -•*-••— 84 

Berkhemstead, submission of the English there to the Goaqaeror - Ix. 400 

Berlin, a description of the city of.> -xi. J8S 

f , Mr. Ony Dickens, the English resident there .... — ng 

Bermudas, Oondamore's aversion to English settiameats at - • viii. 811 
Bernard, dnke, his valorous conduct at the battle of Lataaa - - iv. 191 

• , the cause of the Swedish victory at Latssa • - . .~ log 

, his cese, how amde treason ...• •,- . v. 08 

Bemartitts, his opinion of Platina's lives of the papas - • * - iv. 88 

, unworthy of credit, and why .-•.•..— 80 

Berries, on the use of juniper .....••. xii. 88 

', on the virtues of elder -.--•••• -.#. 

-, the benefits of elder in dropsies .«••-.• .gg 

f, «>lonel, an account of him .•• ••--•vi. 400 

Berwick is betrayed to the Scots by sir Peter Speldt a • - - i* 98 

■ the earl of Surrey retires to it • • . • • • . xi« 480 

Bethlehem, entertainment of pilgrims at the aieaestsry af • • • iii. Slg 

Bethphage, the English pUgnms oome toit — JSl 

BtM,1^Modofe,hiipo«ioBtlMd8tet«f^ptaiiliaiagda • • • UU Hr 



■■»*« pnjer m the J«vt •.••^•*«'*«tI. 419 
Mftte, aw pretended one of St. Jif«m,ihMr«kytlMflMnlM«(G«BM« - h^. «| 
BIMee» on their tceret conTeyeace, in BngUsb, •• SfevUle • . . vBL 430 

SMiothece Militnin vltV 

Fentkn — Ml 

their •abmiteion ti^CaMr ...... ••& 

Blmnjr, Yoong^ escape e# Mig tiietf Ibr x. 

ill. John. M r. net hfM^ vp •» tfw ha 

If r. of Loodoir, Robert Toong^ 

ite rhetoric, eorae aoeoant ofH ••••.. vUl. 

V John. Mr. not buiiglif vp •» iho hoetoon of ■ prfaitn' • - • yH. 
aillefSi Mr. of Loodoir, Robert Toong^ fireadh OB ...•-«. 


Inngnefe, &c. hov oxeelled .••••. «, 

MU»,onm«kittrtn*iB •MifMMo, propeenltR* .... ^pHL 

, «tUi^ of enacthif a mv to werrent their beifff e iii y ii^ • . ' «. flS 
» Ibff ed onee^ copies of Robert Yottng^ • • xt gi, ftc 

of cieditfthenttUiyelthoB — S78 

many odTentagerof ......... ^tt 

eeanterfeit, the dangen of 

V the onans of avoiding then * " 9 

Mabop, <m refiataaoe of power, undulv oi ti a e i t •••!«. S0l 

hb Mae and nafiur representation or fadi » • • • ff, 91 

the Pretender, and doobu aboot ii stated and distaised • « i. U 

decrre of fathers of the order of ind astrj, la MfO ... ttl. 75 

BhuiilK partially daoiaged by an eaft i i q aa h a a. n 

■shop or Kochestcr's tetter to the ecclesiastical rommiss l o ai H i - - i. 9a 

-*s potion, a dlalegne - • v;«l 

of England depriTcd^ bx«i***** ofWUHam tbe'Ceoqaetar - iA. n| 

of Canterbury and York, their caateaiten for pi iB ri ty - . «. ]g| 

tanned beslttska by tin naaticks • r. Ml 

their ambition and eaecM .-•.. • •▼!. It 

OB their deciding chril caases ...-•. vflf. Sm 

discassioB of their temporal power ...... — sn 

how freqaently confounded with prasbyterv • • • . — sis 

', ea the pradeoce generaHy ezerdsed by then . . • . _ ai 

, Stem's address to them ... ». 

Mack broth of the Lacedamonlaas vtt. ^T 

prince, his vanqaiahingaBd Cakiaff thef^aaeb Uag 

— , on bis folag la France ........^ I^ 

■ , hto mes s ag e, dec, ta the* king of France ...... X79— fft 

Vacfcbead, Ms wicked contriTaoceagaiasl the bishop of Racheiler • . jt, 1 

I , fats conduct OB Ms eaamiaaileB ...p 

■ ■ ■- , his admission of iwTingfoiwerf a letter .... _ ff 

-^ , testimony aboo» Mm of WarrcBi the bishop*! botlar • . .» ]0 

■■■ ■ Fhlllft the bishop's eeaohmaa . . _ A 

I , his coming to Bromley oa Wbiteuaday .... .^ ff 

■■■ ■ , his seeond examination •.. .......g^ 

■ ■ ■ , b confronted with Kobert Yooog ..... .. gji 

.» ■ , Stephen, is condemned to stand in the pHloiy • . — tt 

■■■ — , how he was saved from the pillory ... .. j^ 

•m ■ , the record of his coaWctloB - - - - - — #t 
Blackhcath, Charles II. arriTes-at, from Hoilaad tH. lit 

■ ■ , bruuKty of Du Vail in his robbery ihera - . . . ~ sg/f 
■-■ - the Cornishmen, in rebellion, arrive at - • • • at* 485 
Blackaees. state of the garrison af the castie there - —79,76 
Blacka in the West Indiesi an account of tliem - • • r >*• 414 
Blagaa, laird of, his housr convpried into a ganrisen • - - • a. f36 

Blake** defeat of the Dutch vl. Sfl^ 

Blameton, the fi^ht there described ........i<r. 405 

Blandford, in Doracuhire, the residence of Mr. Paseei, who wasmarderad' vll. 11 

Blasaberoers, Stem's address to* them • icsb 

BlayVorgoe. a nickname glTen- to the king oT Baglend xU. 11 

Bleskey Sound, accouat oTa-Spaabb sMp lost therr ii. 4p 

Bloet'iod, whatit b vii. 5ff 

Bloody execution at Prague in ^hernia-, by-imperial maadata • • itt. 40p 

Blower, Aminadab, his Ivetaro in WaHhamflreet iv; ]T7 

Beau of tlie Esyptians described tU. m 

•—, account and descriptiaa of those of Greenland .... — i05 

Bocoaliui's paiiiament ot Pamassaa ........ ^Hl. 517 

BodUn, a rich sort of cloth so warne d ..... • • iv. 598 

Bodley, sir llioaas. born at Rketer --...-. tI. 51 

— , family of, fled to Ornnaoy - ...... gg 

-•——————, a proctor of the University ... . . — fj, 

■- ■ , his variotts erabesfties abroad ..... .. jq 

■ fc the reason of his retirement from paUick life • > -. |B 

■»■ ■ ■ ■ ■ -, his retirrmenttoOxIbrd --. •. - .^55 
Badani. submit themselves to, and obtain tha Btoman protietioB ii. 411 

BosotlaBs, the original inrentoaao^thaaar ...... tU. lAi 

I, banished by TbeodDricae •••••..• rili. 979 
death afuakiafaf •" --inigs 

ItkpipU tilt king mmI qqto of. V fri—dly to the BaglUli « . • «i, ia 

r^!— , ^«kinfiof.»lalo«ttlietelt]«ofCrHif viH. |0r 

! — , and Mor»vMc abottnd vitb ftr*trMt *•-*•• Bi* 99 

■ -J , its aboundioa in poads •..•«- • • ^». fl^s 

swm-, the eflfrcts of a harricane th«r« »t»t6d • - • • • *. i^i 

-- , tht various drcloi or districu of U doteribed • • • • .^ j^ 

, vhea the Boii first came to settle iait-- .•• .^ ms 

1 — , when the If arcomanoi first settled tber* • • • • •»- <6. 

-1. — , when it wm conqoftrcd by the HoM «- 1|4 

. , when Ciecb, the ScUvpniaa* settled in it • • • • — d« 

Boii, vhen they first took possession of Bok>ipiia — US 

Boldneas, its ose to the godly ...•-•••^. ^. ff 

Boleja, Anoe, letters from Henry VIII. to her - • • - - i 

her to cardinal Wolsey . • - . • ^. ]M 

Bolin, the aodern, the same as the oneient Venorin • . • . yU. wf 

BoUoign, the capture of it by the diUce of Suffolk • • . - • «. 310 

, its delivery to the fVcnch .••.«.. • .. ns 

Bolognn* a description of it --•-•-•> • • xi|. 84 

Bolro«, Robert, printer of the papist's bloodj ooth .... ^iiL 4i9 

> his account of the conduct of Wiliiom Roihloo • — 4§0 

Bolton, Mr. a dlssrrtaiion on cruelty to brutes vii. fl 

Bondst A^c. on making them asaignoble -••.... vUL 17 

■ , 4(c. on the great utility of mnldag tbom asrifn^lo • -^ A 

Bonosos, his Kluttouy alluded to • -▼!. 108 

Bonhom, sir John, his posthumous dosoipUon o# hlneolf • . • sit. igo 

Boniface the IXth. repaired, but did not first inbobtt iho TottoMi • • hi; f 

Bonner, tish«p, his epiuph -.. .... . . |, ggy 

's blood, the herald of cardinal Wolsoi'siril iv. 4f9 

Bpaonio, Piaddus and Vitelli leove it to go to Spiidl . - • • U. fS 

Bootins, his observations on thee or tern ....... sii. fs 

Book, the Domesday one, or Domus Dei book « • • iiL lAt 

de bts, on propriety of restraining them to thioo JfOit • . • vUL if 

Books, the neat loss of tbem in the tire of LoadoM ^ • « • vii, 9B9 

■ II ■ ■ 1, of the general use of thorn • . . • . • . ^iii. 8P8 

>, of the nature of the Grecian . • • • . .-. §g$ 


■ 11 u i , the licensing of them a daogeroos monopoly - * « «. giS 
■ ' . , black one of the Admiralty, purport of • ^ • • • is. dR 
-T — :-; — , to be sold at the Whigs coffee-house in FnUofOlWy • « sU. iff 
Boonius, Bogebertus, some account of him «••«••!«. t8 
foreman's Triumph of Learning .-•.«««<«vi. fgg 

■ ■ prayer for the suppreuion of heresy -..••.« 381 
9orgia, CsMsr, his measures for pope Alezandor YI. •• - - Ui. ig4 
— — — ^ , poisons pope AlexMder VI. •-«••• v. 181 

Borodsyck, George, his coofession of Mr. Thyiyi'smardor • • • is* 44 
Borasky, another account of the same thing ...•-•..o 
'I .I , George, a native of Poland, some account of bim - « • •* 10 

jh Castle, a descriptioa of iLS81 

>80QD(el House and oak made an asylum ..••-.«!. 818 

ivdl, air William, his first letter on plot viiost tho Uif - • fUL 188 

■ ■ ■ second to the archbishop of Contefbofy " •- 108 

'n .-g - f ■-■ third to ditto • - - • -mm 193 

■ ■ ■ I i — ! 1 bis letter to archbishop Ijiod - - • ia. 880 

Boevorth field, on the battle there x. 810 

Betaalcum the^trum, the project of .-•••••«!. 140 

Bonchiers, progenitors of the Es)ex family ..••««.«.7 

BorUnies, on tho importance ot fortifyiug \t • . . . - %jii. 888 

Bounon, duke of, quarrels with the Krrach kino • - • • !▼. gOfl i08 
-r — y-—, cardio4l dc, proposed as confessor to Bovvd !▼• * * >^ 16 

XipoEdoeux, on the English trade thither ....«• In, 8|8 

■» ■' , a qnaker^s slrangr conduct there • • 4 • « vi* 484 

■ 1 .J , the prisoners of Poictier^ carried tbithor • « • . vUL 1^4 
^ »■ i , an eslitnate of the measure thcfo '«••-* Ji 818 
Bonn, an admiral under the parliament of Englond - • • - xl. 11 

Bow and arrov, on thrir use m bottle --J****^* ^^ 
— — Churoh steeple, marks of lightning on it ..... ^^ 313 

Bowor«. near Notdogham, where thorebols ttot Uig HIORfy Vlt. - si. 885 

BoyK his opinion 0/ thee or tra sUted ..... ••9M.84 
■^ ^ , Mr. eats the kernels of cacaw oc cocoa-nut • . • . .» 86 

«- — X9*.- • •<-- reeommendi tobacco dyatora in eholicko • . • • .m 31 

- ■ — I . his observatious 00 oil of turpoutino •. • • • «• 33 

Brolwnni, Theophilns, on the Jewish sabbatb .<.«-. ««. 88 

Bra4|iM»v is executed for troanon •-•••••«u..J9 

Bn^Vlipoll. bishop, his letter to archbisbpp Usbor .•-•«. ^ igl 
llraiidy and mum, on ^ohibMiu8 U^oir io»p«rt»tioA . « . , irUi. 17 

«?■- ■ ■ ■ 1 1^, inportauon ofpieventsconsuviptioAof bviM * -^ ftl 

B^siars, the duty of them stated .•••••. ^vi. 18{ 

Brey; Philip king of Fk-aace escapes thikhor tnm Cnuj • • . «iiL lOy 

flgoad* none had ney Jorusalaw ••••••••iii.84t 

|Ma» iU recovery by tho BaglUk -.•^•-••«iL884 

ihtdoolontiMioCChoibiU. tte« ^•«**n^'i-d48 



Bnumi-iUBT.OHl'iIhirillnar •!. «• 

BiruCtir »»thwi«»l,iili;(rijf lh» prwMUln MWII ■ ■ - . — ISi 

-I! 1 i.l^Bfl'uMi.U Br'"" "ui^'rl •*uc^™f"ltl 't • • »■ 

Bnntm, «rWill»«. biibBiiw>«l>liUti<i>U]>ih<>MunaoriMI« — ■ Mf 

pU, ™n Ibrm - ■ - — «• 

KriM, Thtdj 0- 

Brttil, OBIhfir MBtrictiin ■ nh»(0«ic ptD|nrtj 

BHdt Bbd FTIdfi, ■ pl«J upon tha lunipi . - • - 

BrldnC qausatBrnlrfl. w«c Knnnl nf bn 

Brid|n«tr)i«i><I.I. ItKncwtisfHxsIn •- 10 

Biw. ■noriinQfl'iiiKi. BntroiDiiudlcuuir - - - • *ll. tV 

«ciiuU<w>,iB*iBtedk«Ui*K)wdi>u — Mi 

Biiu, InMDnirt*, tha limluaf lu UHKh* or rfi«nr[ •-■■>. t|> 
Briusl, riij bT, dpJlT'n Spuur tb* rutin, u bn pui u duth - 1. 10«— lU 

•-— Culta, BMBwr tt«fi.Oietjbiil.htD>»fl(up in It . . ■ ^— llj 

-— .aiiltK WinafSt. VlBcraViraekUiim ». IW 

■ , apmniwITa aa* danttpttaB af It ...•■•». Mt 

, oMcrraliaaiDii [lit qaceaoreailud'i gaiDgliilt • - — m 

— — . Muor-iainnl SLippan, (ovBaor of ------ »i. •♦ 

— ^ HHlorVpncaulBBBwrit — MI 

BHtMv.Dr.lihcsafaluloa.aiuUDintaf ------ f*. M 

Brtoia.Cna^ucxiatofUHcadDKjar - li. 4*4 

1^ ', iineaBBai'lanS trj Cuui VsIuHuia — «• 

— ii awltcud bjTIkriDi — *. 

— , iha Romaa wldianfefiua lo coma IB It . - . - - — Ml 

1 BsFlouiu Panllnai. W> |Q«rBdi™i of it ~ S 

— ^DBlherKapiGrDfChriMiMUjiiiit ...--.— *ei 

^— , L«liii|a>BnuuLla|lati — m. 

■ 1 oatka Iiiid>°B| ofCcDilanliv'iBli — «M 

,' ^uS'nl^iAll ■llh •hi» iB CEu'r-B uIm .' -~ ' •' ^ 9m 

— lUHBBlDriUltntDlUtel li. 4*9 

UdnofPiM" - ■ - . — tU 
- «W 

f Bdward IT. . - . . alt 19 

■liTBlici(BtD»9>nararFikd<iintiaB . . - Tl. tIT 

li<iEn|lt>h»TtiiigiitiiDai(a *U. W» 

.iDO'iitieHliiDiWFitDchkiiii - - . - - il. •! 

, Wenniui. ( wonhy on 

Britoaa. an lliaiEofipBBt utd 
I an ^er»lBd knd pan 

triugim of plidai pilo In Uw Tl 
ur leadiaj preau(i ta Augvtm 




Bmow, the Irilmla nA costom mung tham ii. »1 

— — , CalMCaHgulft>slcUer»totliem — . 4M 

-, on their recoil •---*-.--.«. 449 

-, are hraded by Voadicea -- ...••.. 44I 

-, their ilesn'artk>n ef Camelodvnnm •--..-_ 449 

^ a but U« with the Romans ^..^^ 4I§ 

•, the Saxon assietance to them stated -*>^--ipi. 9f 

baraeeed bj the PioU and Scnte *~li 

Danes of Tewtoaickfeee - - - . ^ J6w 

their opposition to Oermanieoe ........gA 

', the laws of. subverted by the RooMitt aad Saxons • . . ^ gjj^ 

—»— are expeltedbj their Saton aaziliariet ix. 310 

Brogbil, lord, a represraution of his pretended merits •-•-▼!. 496 

■ I ■ ■ ■, one of tiie tools and ereatoree of CwiBwell . •• is. £91 
Btmnio, cardinal, tiansmits a copy of flMnltiee . • . - • viii. 4M 
Bromley, on Blackhead's toing to the palace there on Whitsandaj - «. If 

■ , on Yonof end Marj Hutt's coming to the palace there - • — 95 
'^~^^- college, Toun^s letter to the widows nf • - • - — 30 

, Walsingham King on Yonng *s brinWonr at — 88 

Brooksby, the naiiTeplaceof the dttkeofBudtingham - - - • v^ 308 
1, mackfOftbe liicedamoniana, whatit was • - • . - viU. jf 
», the mischief of their going to law •-•-•• Ui. 308 

Broegbton, sir Thomas, and otbers» their attempt at rebellion • xi. 37» 

BtownTs old Pharisee, pourtrayed ••--••. .vL 343 
Binwne, archbishop of Oabttn, his letters on tnoremacy, te. viU. 634— 69f 

■ ' ■ • , his primacy rerolied by qneen Ifaiy — — 343 
Brace, Kobert, Scotch nebili^'s, resolntion to adhere to him - • i. 188 

■ ' " ■■, king, tn account of his rariom fortune •-••▼{. 36l 
Bmg^ theimprevement of the nautical compam at • . • • vii. Idf 

■ ■ ■ ■ , the Spaniards arriral there. .-..-•••s. 410 
Bmnain Moraviw, account of the monastery there « • • . tUU 433 

■ , copper box (bond in the monastery of ' - - — — 435 
■ , Wenceslans his residence in the monmtery • -— 460 

■■ , count Peter Pear's visit to the monastery of -^^ 40F 

Bmnswirk, the dnke of, hit oppoeition to the anabaptists • • • v. 334 

, a description of it by iravellera - • - • * - xi. 340 
■■ ■ — , the method of making mom there • • . • . ail. 30 

Brussels, a ieitw from a Jesuit in England thiUier - • • • ix. Stfl 

Bmte, on his coming into Britain ..--....H. 413 

Brutes, on cruelty to rhcm by Mr. Perkins .•.-.. vU. 71 
Brutus, of the English republick, sir Arthur ffaslerig ...... I13 

Buanoreito, Michael Anc elo, a famous painting of .... sii. 00 

Bnchamn, his differing from St. Paul, in the nature of rebellion - - ▼. 4iO 
^ his false distinction about person and power ..... 413 

Bnrhino, its partial destructioa by an eartbqoake • • • . . x, I94 
Buck's life of Richard 111. observation 00 ...... vii|. 313 

Bnekhorst, lord, an acconnt of him v. 140 

Bnrkiagham, marquis of, on bis poisoning the duke of Mamillon iv. 4J0 

, the duke of, on bb peisoniug king James . . • . r. 811 

II' a short view ol his Ufc and death . . — 34^ 

' •, the BHture of his fertnom stated • . — 16. 

■ i ■ ■ , his creation, and walbmun to Holland — 313—313 
—*———— , advice of lord Ooring of hie danger . . — 313 

- '■' ■ ■ . ■ ■ I., is met on the road by en old woman • —46. 
• , lord viacount Fielding changes cloaths with -» lb, 

~ , conjectures of the enmity towards him . — 310 

— — — — ' , EgRleston's libellous book agiuost him - — 39U 

- • , remonstrance of the commons sgaiust • •— i6. 

- , Felion's access to him at Portsmouth • .. f3. 

— — — , sir Clement Throckmorton's advice slighted — ib, 

——'——— ■, certain pre-sentimcots of his fate - - — 381 

, Henry, duke of, beheaded ....-.««. 35^ 

' , duihess of, an inveterate papbt ..... vllL 805 

duke of, his proceedlofs at the isle of Rhee • - • x. 383 

, ii subbed by Felton at PorUmouth - - - — 394 

Bodin, a small town of Bohemia, an account of • • * • * xi. 3 10 

Bognall, and other d^es of treason ........ v. 400 

BuUdiogs about London, observations about restraining . • . viii. it 

Bolbcggers. what meant by them stated iv. 435 

Bull, a di%cluAure of the great one «•-!. 403 

•>— of pope Pius Quintu9, against qoe^n Elisabeth . . • • iii. 51s 

——, the answer of queen Elisabeih to it - — 314 

—— of pope OrMory the Thirtieth burnt at Tours and Chalons • - — 348 

*— baiting at Bladrid. a large account of ix. Go 

— — , how the Spaniards encounter one in fijtht ..... — 03 

Bullon, Mrs. Anne, her enmity thecause of Wolsey's fail • > iv^ 301 

————, a particuUr favourite of Henry VIII. • f . . ^ 305 

- ■ ■ ■■ , Kfory TUCi partkuUr purualiiy for • - • — 380 



B«llMwMrt.ABM, tli«stralig«asheasmlalCniAMi •>•••«• Ivw Ifff 

I ■ I , ft •evara reiiMrk an h«r - • • - ■ - • irf. #14 

Bsllkm, the meuu to be utml for aafineiitiiu it ••••*«. aytf 

BattoigB, or BoUoigiMi, betrayed to Um Frenck •-<>-• hr. 4ii 

— — , on'HenryVII bemg tbere •••-•-•xi. Stt 

BnHMlIey» a description of one ........ ^m, |g 

B«ihill-ftelda> on Dr. Emmt* reterreotion tbore • • - - si. tt 

lwdet'9 case of treasoo stated • v. Mf 

, esq, the eaose of his execution r e pr si— l ed • - • • ^ dOf 

Bare, king Henry of Kugland strips the Spaniards at It • • - lii. Ml 

Swflary, account of one at the lord eluneaUof^ ..... ^m. |^ 

WmtianAj, the duke off his fright at the ntae vorthias « • - • iU. Mt 

■ I ~, Margsrel dacheis of, seta ap Perida Wartxek • - • xL lya 

■ I — -iMrsopfortofWarbadi ttated . - .* jgs 

»■ ■ ■ ■ , her two ■iitrsai Mrths ..... ^i^ 

■ •' ■ ■■ , her ipaesh to Ba^iah aMlMnadoii ... At 
«x*— ~, dodiess dowagar* reAedioas alwot her •. . — dIA 

>■ , doke of, inalliaiiee vith Baglaad ^L ^ 

-*- ^, dtsgostad vith Bdmond IV. for his ahamtfol traea — 14 

' ■ ■ ' > Ms peace with Lawb XI. ....-—. J9 

Bvial, that of pope Joaa described *-lv. 94 

■ I of Charles I. ai» account of it •••....^dL i^i 

* ofthedead, in whatMaaocrdoBaatBvnkirft • - • - at. l|a 
Bwrlei^, lord treasurer, his advice on religioa • * • • > IL jlft 

* aecomatof JRraiic» — ttl 

■> ■■ gpato _ g|^ 

»■■ ■ Ids friendship for sir T h o m a s BodldJ • - ^ M 

> on a Seotsman's chaiaoli» of klag Jaies vlil. tUM 
Bwley, Dr. WitliaD, wtor to the Slack prince •* lit 

— , Mr. William, retreato fton Perkia Warbeck*ajparty •> zi. d04 

INwnet, Dr. Gilbert, hit- account of Mara aad others, for murder - • Is* 9 

■ II , meets with Vrata at the executum - — IS 
I , his sanaonha fe rethe aKeeutionof Stem . . .. g^ 

* , his letter oa eardlaal Pole^s seerat powam - •» Idt* Ut 
Barrell,Joha, an accovot of Ms pilgrimafB to Jerusalem - • • • Hi* ggS 
■*■ — ■ , hli good reception tnere as a Greek >••••.. gg^ 
Barrows, sir John, was slain at the isle of Khee .... . i.. gg^ 
Bart, Richard, on Touog^s forgery ---*-* 
Bwton, Mr. account of proceedinn in the Star-chamber • . . iv. ggg 

> ■ ■ f his speech on the pulory .......... ggg 

■ ■ ., his eaecntion for treason ▼•!§ 

-■ ', Bastwick, and Prynne described Till. 411 

, their omllee to the porerameat ml. 9§ 

Bory St. Edmund's, in Suffolk, on Yooofj^s being aeiaed there s. S4 

I I ..■■ ■ ■ ' , the nmnner of his being there stated . • . «. 0|^ 

' I , Mary Halt's information there of Young * • — 0B 

Boryiugs, an account of them in Scotland mi. 4M 

Busch, Herman, his oppositioa to German aaetaeptists . • . . t. 4fiO 

Business, stage-coaches stated to be preiodicial to it • . . - vilt. 4/^ 

Busses, account of fleets of them for fishing ->•>•- iiL OS 

, state of those belonging to the Hollanders ...•.— s^g. 

Busy-body's curious dialogue with his friend Scrape-all • iv. 4ia 

Butchers, on the improper conduct of them .... ^i. ItS, 1M» ISa 

Butter, is charged with duty in France .x. 81» 

Byrdt s, the parleOMmt of various ones -xiL U^ 

Cabinet, the IrUh one, on establishing popish clergy In IrtUnJ - • ▼. dtS 

■■•, the king's opened, which was taken at Kitseby .... — 5x4 

r- ~, the empcror*t at Vienna, on the medals in it - . . . si. 980 

vaeaw, or cocoa-nut a description of ----••• xii. SI 

, the kerntis of it eaten by Mr. Boyle — Iff 

Cade of HerrinfT^. the original of the name •>..-> ii. 53^ 

Jack, an account of his rebellion ▼. 41f 

Cadiz, burning of, in 1596, by Robert, earl ol Essex .... \\\, gc/f 

■-, account of the expedition to it -vi. lO 

Caen, in Franco, tiie mtes and duties paid there - • - • > x. 914 

Csmnr. his account of Britain ii. 414 

-, receives ambassadors firom the Britons .-•.-_ 4]g 

, his arrival in Britain -..<..-.-.- 4^0 

./ — — — , his defeat and pardon of the Britons — 4fB 

■ , his collecting corn for winter provision — 4tS 

, Trinobantes offer him submission — 48t 

, the Anhalites submit to him — 48S 

, receives the sahaUssioB of thtBlhrociydtc. •» • • • '^ 15. 


tirtttx. xf 



GaMriBdFomptjr, tiMbcMI vmieMribtd .••.:!« 

. I , the Britoas had Cbv tbipf to oppose to bi« • • • • vti. idt 

^ C. JuH— , hU ■ewege to C o t ii bel lao, king of Britria • - zU. w 

Celtwa,orco(ne,tlieefffcUofdriiikiacH toowtM . - . . — tt 

Citaoe, theexceOeiieeofltalMrboar tti. 18t 

— — — . the iahiiblumuoftbeproviiMeitatfd • .« 18f 

CiiiMVolaMnsis,recoonoitre*Britoiii tt. 419 

I CmliguU'i leiten on the Britons — 439 

Calais, bow brtnyed to the French ft, 179 

the tressurrr of, on Wobey*s acqaaintaoce with • -. 

the Dutch fleet dcfeeted be twe en it nad Dover *-••«!. 

to Dover the peassge of it described vlH. 

in whet manner it was eaptnred by the YnmA • • . > s. S 

..lord Fits-waiter beheaded tiMre «.-••. d. 

CilanMticeofsFiencheonqnest of Britain stated is. 

'•~t of England, a discovery of theas • - • * - * s. . 

CaUulrane, iu partiat destruction bv an earthquake ^ • . • — i| 

Calemaians, thmr assanlt upon the ninth Boman legion • ii. 

■ ■■ *, the speech of Oalgaeus to encourage tnea . . • _ 
, their •pirlted ansault upon the Ronaas ••..«» 
> nuke peace with the Homans ........f^. 

Calaoder, the earl or, his house seiaed and made a garriaoa - . . -. gg^ 

Cafigula, his disposition to tyranny nanlfeatmi iz. gof 

Cattatos and the martyrs - - • • - sii. lol 

Calucrlaj, sir Hugh, one of the nine wortldea of London • « • ci|. m 

Ga>ves*Bead Club, the secret history of it, with the anthoBi, Ar. — 21I 

Covin's letter to Sednus, on his aihr speculatioaa • • - • vi. sn 

doctrine opposed by arehUwop Land • . . . . xU. df 

Oalvialft, a strange assertion of Dr. Twtes x. ggg 

CamaWdnnum, the residence of Cuno-belitt. king of the Trinobaadea H. |g| 

.—— taken by the Romans, and mrtUled • • • • - H. w 

■ , oppressions of the people there by tfie RooUsb aoldien — 410 
, inaospieioos sian* obaerved at •-..... 4g| 

CambtTt on the nature and utility of a haven tliero - - - - x. 4S6 

Caasblraj, archdeacon of, traitorous corres p ondence sent to ... ^ui. gQ5 

m , tha treaty of to 15tg, Henry Vllf s preponderaace to - - — tii 

Cambridge, one of the towns exempt^ from the pardon of Ridiard IL v. 0g 

university, the petition of students there to narliaaseat — fga 

— ^ — , on Arabiek manuscripts p r asea t ea to it . . _ si§ 

, an ordinance for regulatiing It .... — g^^ 

—— . earl of Northamptoa Is elected chaaoallor «... gjp 

, Cromwell is elected member of parHasaeat for - - • vii. gjfS 

, Qofen^s col lege at, by wiiom founded - - - xL 381 

Camden, approbation of his Judgment as an Idstoriaa • - • • ii. 415 

, remarks on a passage In hb annals of qae«>n P is aha th vUi. fga 

Camilton's Discovery of the devtliih designs of the issuitt ... v. |2 

Camp, a Call to it, or Honour's Invitation vii. 60Q 

■ . - ChaplMO, M petition for redress of griov aa ces . . . . x. 10g 

Campaign of sir Thomas Morgan in Flanders -■*•••<>. 409, 4I§ 

Csmpaine, cardinal, his refusal to pass Judgment of divorce - - • iv. AgS 

Campanelia, his horrid plot for introducing popery ' - * - • i. gig 

Campden in Gloucestershire, on Mr. WiiUam Hanisoa*s diaappeaiaoco vitt. 8f 

Campion , Sherwin rzecated with him, deemed a slagular schomr - - il. 80O 

C^ttopodoglio, or die Romaa eounciHwuse described - . - . xh, ng 

Canaan, 00 Holland's beinc so named by Dntehmea .... ^rii. ggn 

Canada, a proposal for subauing the country of -"'-•si. g 

Canas. f nego de, a sport ao called in Spain .-.«.. u, gg* 

Candiot, the history of SamoMttas Scartor .... . . ^^^ jj 

Candish, the nature of his evidence aitainst the duke of Norfolk . . is. 151 

Candles, hallowed ones, delivered at Candlemasse to the students ii. lyg 

Cand;f, the arrival of certato christian slavee tfa«v from Turkey iii. tg 

Canfti. on Ottorius, the itoman general, marching against them - - il. ggg 

Cannon, colonel, the manner in which he was trMMod by papists • • s. fTB 

Canoes, or Indian loog>bo<its, a description of ..... ^1, jgg 

Canon laws of Normaodv, no obstacle to a regal soeeesaion • • • iii. ]gn 

Canons, the pope's, ordain that all the western priests are to bo shetvea It. si 

Caoous of archbishop Stratford for regulation or marriages • « — gOQ 

Canterbury, Aruudci. archbbbop of, persecutes the Lollarda - - i. gi5 

, the controversy of its aroibisbop with tbo see of .York ill. 209 

— • Laud, archbisnop of, an aeeount of his birtk and life - iv. 430 

, hb pandiel with Wobey • - . -. ggg 

, insolently called tiM p aps f a ehampioa ▼. 341 

- . the archbbhop of. obtaias lettsrs of the eerl of S o ma is e t — ggg 

■ , hU speech or lysaeral sermon . 4^ 

■ ■ ■ ■ — - ■ ■ ', his laaraatatloa for the choreh of Bi^land — 4g| 

'■■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■■ ■, his first prayer on the scaffisrd - • — ^gg 

*>,hislast|»wraroo thascaflold * - — 434 


-|oa king Charlas 11*1 meption there vU. lit 

xfi . nrDftx. 

GMitetbory^.tbebAck, hair MM. half gallof, liMrtkh covpand to • vlli. «& 

' , Edward the Black Priaodiad and waabwiad at • • — Ttf 

>HabTBfe]d*>iattort»thaarchbi»hopof . . - . — IW 

■ ■> arcfabiahop of, hi» Igowr to tbeUm .... — *. tgl 

' , Cttpaot aTaiU hiintif of imwMlgwrn inm Iff 

,latttr»tobiahopofClMchaatTaboqt Y—m «. tl 

■ ■ ' of Norwich ditto - - . — *. 

f ■ ■ of Aai|>h, ditto . - — #, 

from the bishop of Chith oa tof to • — St 

— . - n^ 4t a ph to • — M 

Caatium, messenten dispatched tliitlMrbjrCaMibelia . - . . il. MB 

CaDotu, son of Swaoos, the Oaoe, his wan a«d suMeas in »^i«~» iii. ut 

^his la^ osT/ prepared fsr the iavasieaof ItagUnd .... iff 


Cape of Good Hope, iu fohahitaots and rlimate rnmmenikd . - .. tu 

Gapet, llttgh, theiaoiilj of, succeeds to the Vkiadi moaarchj - • a« 401. 

Ca^toiatioaofLazembourJi^aa account of it - - • - • - Is. Mf 

Gaprarola, a palace of cardinal Pwacaio sii.91 

C:aptiYitj,oa the Fkeoch king's ledemptioa bat of it . - - - W. MB 

Ca|>ochin, the habit of a monk of that order described • xl. 18D 

Oapachins, the monastery of, atVeoioebitideicriptioB ... sii. f5 

Caractacus, a fiunoas3ntish chieftian .*..•- U. dM 

— , his spirited end valorous bahaHoar in battle . . . i. 4jf 

• , \A» wife, Csmily, Ace, led in tfiwnph bf the Rmbsbs • — 491 

Ciarbontini, the great destruction there bi an earthquake - • . s« Iff 

Caravaas and stagecoaches, ott the evil or their auaiDera ... Yld« li 

• , on the svppressien ol them ... — M 

, destructA»e to the trade of the kingdom — Stf 

mi ■■ » I ^ manufactures injared bvthem ** — ■ 4h» 

Cnrdiaals, Sir Peter lliddleton is executed lor robbing two of tbem I. fit 

Cardiff, the ship, aeU saU from the West Indies for EaglaMd ■•' tt. SHI 

Cai dross, lord, fined and imprisoned in Edinburgh casUa ■> - - s. tSS 

" •—• his house eoorerted into a garrisQB •• - — faff 

Cards new ShafBed, or the Rejal Gamesters > xLdff 

— new packed and shufied, or the State Oamaaten - - - idi. ttf 

Carew, Mr. John, his arraignment for sitting as Judge on Chntln I. ▼!!• Ug 

l^arleton, icrd, bow Insultod at the Prencn court - . * « sH. ST 

Carlisle, earl of, cnmtion of Harklev ........ i«Kli 

Came Vale in Rome, the manner ol keeping it ..... H. 90S 

C^niola, the curious sound of Cain that couatiy - . • i si. SM^fltS 
' ' -, this carious sound is of Hungarian wrtraction .....— fg^ 

b the escellence of the wine in the pretince of it •.•—#• 

, a genwal account of the province of ......_ gg9 

Carolina tree, somewhat similar to the Thee or Talk tree • nil flS 

Caron, Francis, director of the factorj, his description of I^Mtt • - vii, 5M 

(}«rptnger, George, an account of hb mirarulons preservation • • is. SO 

Carr, Mr. one or the twelve pages of king James of Scotland . • . t. SSt 

•—— , sir Robert, entrusts Ovcrbury with various employments • - — SSS 

■ , created viscount Rochester ..-.-.— sgf 

Carre, Pierre, a Fleming, bis examination on Spanish losses • - • li* Sf 

Carrl|Mpeory, on the const of Sooth America, a description of • - iii. 17B 

Ctuthage, on the council there about the year 400 .... viU. ggg 

Carthaginians, very considerable in shippisg» after the Tyriaas > vii. 104 

'-, a snip or galify of theirs driven w the Romans - - — #. 

Cvtismandua takes Vennti us* brother and kinsmen, and war renewed ii. 43S 

Carvers in Pope Joan's time, observation en their want of skill > > iv* 19 

——•., amongst the Roman catholicks, little worthy of credit - . -- fid 

C^aubon, Isaac, Gondamore's design to procure his library . . vlii. S4| 

Case of England and protestnnt interest, the present one - - - i. 41 

of the bishop of Ross, committed to the tower for treesoa ' ' .~~ ^^ 

• . — of treason stated and discussed ..... . • iv. 4t^ 

of law. if doubtful, how lesolved and settled by parliament . > v. 54 

— — of levying war, as an act of treason, discussed and stated • ' — 99 

—-of John Al water, indicted for high-treason in Kent - - . — fig 

— - of bail for treason, by an Irish sutute of the Sth of Edw. IV. . _ yj 

-^ of felony, its aggravation, and operation of its punisnment - - — SS 

—— , a perverted one, of deeming treason a misdemeanor only . — > 40S 

, a remarkable one of abstinence of Martha Taylor > • . viL 36S 

— — of Moses and the Egyptian stated iju99B 

— — of Samson's destmctloD of t le Philistines discussed . - — ^ 
—— of queen Mary's sBCcessiou to Uie government considered .... 9«y 

Cases of treason, wriuen by Sir Francis Bacon, knigtit • v. it 
abjuration, exile, and heresy -• .--...— so 

• -' sir Thomaa Talbot, William Dell, &c. to oontrol the laws *~ ^ 

rebellion, two sorU of it distinctly suted — Mo 

Casse, Du, the Frrneh admiral attacked by admiral John Bembow • a. M5 

Ca>sibelane, king of Britain, receives a message from Ca:sar . • xii. ISQ 

>» ■ ■! , retorns an answer to Cswar ... — iSb 

Ca£i>, and other petty states of SritoiBSttboiittheimeUes to Cssac . ii. 4a 




. rrf. rag9 

Ctf»ib«lin, chicroftheTriiiobtnt«», is made general of the British ii. 426-488 

CMsiiia, the patacf of -.......«. ^ii. 89 

Cas»ia»,ao approvf'd writer of the aorient British history - • - ii. 414 

Castile and Leon, the king of driwn t'rom his iciugdoin as a tyrant - viti. I75 

Castle of Bristol, Hugh Spencer shuts himaelf up iu it . - . . i. nj 
■, Borough, on the coast of Norfolk, an account of it - • - li. SZt 
■■ Bjij, in the isUud of Barbadoes, rendeavous of a fleet there - vi. 377 

■ and others, their readiness, as Romish agents, to commit murders viii. 44t 
Castle-Keab, in the diocese of W^terford, Young curate at • . • x. SC 

" - " - , his exploits at stated . - — 44 

Castle Novo, and other castles of Naples in Italy - • . . . xii. HO 
Castles of defence in Scotland, almost imprecnable . • . • . Yii. 44o 
-"—, the great increase of them after the Norman conquest • • ix. 46t 

Ontle of Blackness, the state of its garrison • --'--- xi. 73 

^— of Dumbarton dilto --—75 

^— of Mikowits in Bohemia -..-— 3j^ 

•»— of Doverisreconnoitered by Perkin Warbeck - ... — 4ic 

— - of Norhamis besieged, and defended by the bishop of Durham - — 48g 

— of Haiton is surrendered, and then demolished . . . . • 42^ 
— ^ Ixsavs, near Newcastle, the gift of king John - . - - — 465 

— of Morpeth, whence it received its name --•--— 4(iy 
^— of Alnwick, Wark, and Norham, some account of - - . • — ib. 
Castration o( Popish Ecclesiasticks proposed • • - • - • z. 445 

, the law upon that subject in Sweden -•--.— 450 

Caswin, sulun Muhomet. a great driuker of coffee .... xii. se 
Catanea, a preMge of an earthquake there - • - - - • x. 188 

■ , the total destruction of it by an earthauske - , - , — igjj 
Catarrhs, on the good of smoaking tobacco in such complaints - • xii. SI 

Catechism of the ICebels, exposinii their strongest subterfuges • - ▼. 40S 

*■■ ■ ' •-> the Assemblies, the height of a fanatirks divinity - - riii. 81 

Cateaby, Robert, bis concern iu the gunpowder plot stated - • ,- iii. 28 
■, his private conversation with Guy Fawkes - - — 2$ 

■ — , h.s house deemed fittest to prosecute the plot • : — Sfi 
" , his unlimited power to procure more conspirators • — 28 

- ■•■■ ' - . and conspirators are purstued^ and he is shot - • — ^ 

— '•, a gentleman of good quality ..... rili. 150 

- -, communicates the plot to the conspirators - — 151 

■ ■ , in whxt manner he was mortally wounded . - — 153 
Catharine, the repudiMicd wife of king Henry VHl. at Kymbolton - vi. 514 

- ■- — 's St. and other courts, their infamy stated - ... Tiii, 50 
Catherine, queen, her Lameutaiion of a Sinner ••**'* i. 28<$ 

-, sister of Laily Jane Gray, her last Letter to - . . - _ sfijj 

, queen of Kusland, summoned on the divorce • . - iv. 5?^ 

CathoUck cause, the iiorrid practice of murdering kings stated • - ii. 130 

■ UeligiDn, durhe&s of York's letter on her embracing it • Tii. 430 
- Kin; of Sfiain, his power to unlock the secrets of princea - Yi>i. 535 

•■* M. I^sardus, a higotted one --xi. 35J 

Catholicks Roman, James n. entrusts them with the militia > • - i. 10 
— . deem it meritorious to murder heretical princes * iii. Q 

■ and Papists, address to them on the dialogue of pope Joan - iv, 11 

■ ■■ Roman confederate, their commissioners stated « • - ▼, 485 

■ , to liavefree enjoynicut of their religion in Ireland • — 485 
-^— — — — — of Ireland, tJie articles of agreement with them . - — 48() 

— ■ , king Charles promises to take away the penal laws • — 5Cl 

" —«. thHr design to procure all scripture manuscripts - viii. 248 

Catiline's wicked conspiracy compared - ......x. 448 

Cattarrhs, smoakini; tobacco recommended for . . . • > xii. 3i 

Cattle, on repealing prohibition of the importation of Irish - • viii. 17» S5 

Cavilcade at Adrianople. a description or one ..,...— lOl 

Cavalry, the necessity of them at Tangier — 401 

Cavello Monte at Rome describ<>d . ^ xii. Il5 

Cavan, on Young's being incarcerated at Cavan, &c. . . • . x. 38 

■■ gaol. Young imprisoned there for bigamy - - • • . — 51 

■ , farther accounts of Young's impiisonment in . • • •>' 52» &e. 

Cavendish, Mr. his account of the negotiations of cardinal Wolsey . iv. 488 

Cause, a great one of judgment upou the nation • • . • » v. 533 

Causes, civil, on impropriety of blsnops deciding thrm . . • « viii. 328 
Caosham-hiil near Heading taken by the earl ofEssex . . • . vi. 20 

" bridge, the fight there descrit>ed ..»--.-— 21 

Gaotionary towns, on their beiug given up to the Dutch ... vii. 520 

- ■ , the keys ot the Low-€>>untries viii. Ml 

Cautions, proper to be regarded in the firing of bescoas - - • - v. 247 
Cavood, cardinal Wolsey there, and preparation for his installation «■ iv. 547 

■ , burnt and deserted by the rebel forces ..... v. 535 
Caxton, William, the first printer in England ...... vii. 105 

- •■- , used printing in Westminster Abbey . • • ,• x» 505 

CaeilU secretary William, bis diligence and attention iobusiaMS - • v. 185 
lir Robert, MB of lord JBorltigb, lord treasurer - • ? • — 15S 


C«cUl, »irllob«rt, hif dMth under » suspicion of poison .-.••▼. SM 

-——————, his eicellt-Dt character as a KUtesman and protMtmnt - — i6. 

■. sir Edward, created viscount Wimbledon - - - • • vi. 10 

Cttfamero, on the damage done thereby an CMrthqttaVe ... • x. I9B 

Celibacy of the Romish clerey, discu^teti by £neasSjrlviut . • . — 446 

Cellar, a noted one in Hamburg described --••.- xi. 354 

Collier, madam, is tempted to murder the earl of Shafteabary • • ix. 51 

, on establishing a royal hospital for midwifes - . — 191 

Celtes. their sitoation anciently in Bohemia 3ii. SIS 

Ceoi magni, one of the petty states of Britain, which snbmitted to Caesar ii. 418 

Censure of herrings in proverbial phrases, scouted ....._ 331 

■ , Nashe's appeal to the publick to defend him from ..... 333 

■ passed on Bastwick, Burton, and Prynne in the star<hamber (▼• tS8 

* of the Rota on Milton's book on a Commonwealth • - Tii. IIS 

Century of inventions by the marquis of Worcuter > • • - id. 405 

Cerdick Sands or Shore, an account of the name from Cerdicus - • li. CgS 

■ ■ , cnrinns account of their early state ... — jji 
Ceremonies, increase of theui in the chorck ...... zU. Ok 

Cerio, Zacharias. betrays Sammatius Scarior ...... ..78 

Certifieate of Robert Young's first marriage - x. 51 

of the dean of Kilmore of his second marriage . - • — A. 

■ ' of his being in Cavan gaol for bigamy -.•••— A. 
Ce^trensis, Rauulfus, a fair MS. of his in New Coliege library - • iv. 43 
Chair of marble for pope's being examined at his election - • - — 18 
Chaise's, father le, project, for ihe extirpation of hereticks • • • ix. S8t 
Chalcondylas, Laonicus, his testimony of the marble chair • - • iv. 17 

» .■ , how belied by papists • -— iQ 

— — , his testimony about pope Joan ....-•— 45 

, his assertion that priests were shavea in her time • - — 73 

Chalices, Dnarcn's saying on the ancient ones •..••• iv. 44 

Chalons and Tours, on the pope's bulls burnt there .... iii. 543 

Chalybeates, on the efficacy of them - • vii. S7T 

, on their properties, a discussion ..... ix* I78 

Chamberlain, Hugh Spencer is made, and soon banished . . . i. lot 

, Thomas Kadcllffe, earl of Sussex, succeeds to be - - ▼. 133 

, Thlhnas, arrives from cardinal Richlieu ... ^m. {qq 

Champaigne, cardinal Wolsey's arrival thi re on his negotiation • • iv. 517 

■ ■■ ■ , the means by which the negotiation was effected at - — 518 

Champerty, a description what it is ....-•. vl. 118 

Champion of protestants, archbishop 'Whitgift ......_ 904 

' and worthy defender, bishop Davenant - . — 3Qf 

Chancellor of England, 1<a)dock is appointed ...... i. 106 

, Lord, Judge Hales communication with him ... — 335 

■ — , sued in the star-chamber on a prcmunire - - - v. 388 
■ ' ■ ■ ■ , is strongly opposed by lord Coke . - - — 380 

■ , burglary at the house of ...... ^m, i(jg 

■ Jefferies is appointed to be . • . . . j,, jog 
- ■ ■ , an office within the statute against sale of oihcei • • • x. €68 
—————, lord, cf Ireland, account of (Jerahlioe - • • • - xi. 377 
Chancery, on cardinal M'olsey sitting in as lord chancrllor • • • iv. 538 
Change of government, attempts at deemed treason > - > . — 497 

■■-Houses in Scotland, a description of them .... yit. 444 

Channel, news from it, being a description of the isle of Serke • . zi. 533 

Chapel of printers, whence the name originated ..... x. 505 

Chapels, on images or pictures in them, by ordinance of parliament - v. 441 

Chaplains, the three beneficed ones of archbishop I.aiid . . • . iv. 453 

— — — — , on Wolsey's succession to be one of the king's ... — 4^1 

> — . , the necessity of good ones in tlie army .... ^iij. 357 

■■, their petition for rcdrrss of gnevanres - - . • - x. 163 

» , on having pious ones on board our ships - - • - xi. I4 

Character of the town of Yarmouth in its early state • • • . ii. 303 

—^——— of Richard Ill's history by sir Thomas Moore ... — 413 

■ of the ancient Diuids, and their prarticc in Oallia • - — 439 

•■ of Ulpius Marcellus, and his conduct in Britain ... — 461 

————— of the late marquis of Argyle fully stated . . . . _ fjg 

• of man, as to hit inronstancy, considtred .... — 513 

m of Bellarmineand Raronius stated • - . . . iv. 5C 

■ of Benno the cardinal and others discussed .-...— 57 
of the king of Sweden, killed at the battle of Lutxen • • — lyf 

of the earl of Leicester depicted ...... — 47^ 

■ of the earl of Stralford, \\t a letter to a ftiend ... — 4113 
— of the long parliament by Milton -----.v. 57 

■ ■ ' of the parliament copiously discussed .....— ggg 

■ of an Oxford incendiary •.......«. j^ 

* — and perfections of the English language considered • . — 437 

■ of the perfidious vipers, nrince Rupert and prince Mauriee — ib, 
of marquis Hartford, duae of Richmond, and others . . — 

« vf a ceckatricc, snakes, adders, and other vipers - • — 


rd. r*g» 

Character in the drama of presbytery, the directory - - • . vi. 81 

— — — — — ^ ^ , the liturgy .... - — ib, 

•^ of pr«?»bytf rians folly iratrd - .«- ..-.. 184 

of Mr. John Fu-uel, of Blandford, in Dorset ... - viij. is 

of HollHod stated .-...- .- - — 321 

•^— of a towiLwit, a description of «•-..-- viii. 11 

• • of a faoatick stated -- — 79 

— — of an EDi{1ishraan. as given by the French - - . • -_ loy 

■ of an unconscionable pawn-broktr described - - . - .. 179 

■ ■ of Architophel stated • -- .-.-- ^ 4^^ 

• ■ of a disbanded courtier described • - - . - - — 509 

-~- , a Scotsman's of king James, lord Burleigh's remarks . . — 51s 

— of trimmers stated .----.--- txi 59 

"— • of Scotland, largely pourtrayed • • - • - - x. 509 

———- of the prince of Orange stated ..--*-.— 5i5 
af the ting of Prussia stated - - - - . • - xi. 334 

■ , the excellent one of M. Wolfias - - - ... «. S5S 

of an hooesi parliament-man .----- . jtii. 4ff 

Chaianza, his account of popf: Joan strtted • - - • - itr. tl 

Chard, the forces which joined the earl of F.ssex there ... vi. 30 

Charge of Serjeant Thor|ie at the assizes at York ..... .«. 105 

— , edict of the Dutch, a malicious one .... . - vii. 556 

, of Mr. Howell's being a maltgnaat, discussed .... vi|l, 131 

Chariot, on Dr. Wilkias's winged one - - - - . . - vii, gt 

Charioteer, on Dr. Wilkins's performing the service of - ... _ 8$ 

Charleroy. the English forces reviewed there • > > . • . z. 410 

Charles I. his murder defended by Milton ... - . -i. 7 

, a vindication of his government -•. ..•--•53 

, prince of Wal'S. Hayward's dedication to him . • . m, 115 

, copy of the petition presented to him at York - . . • ir. 391 

■ — , his triumphal entry iBtu Loniion from the north - > . t. 85 

, procession of the lord mayor and sheriffs, &c. to meet him • -^ 9I 

■ , the address of the recorder of London to him - . . - — ge 

, his reply to the recorder's speech .--•.. .. qj 

... -.- -^ colonel Harwood's advice on French preparation at sea - — 201 

, address of the people on their loyalty ..... — 264 

— . - ■ ' , a case of the p»rl»ameni's resistance to him supposed - • — 291 

— - . — , prince, account of his expedition to France ~ - - - —.311 
—— , on his proceedings about the city of York - . • • vi. IS 

■ ■ ■ summons the city of Gloucester to surrender .... ~^ t% 
— -, on his beiug sent to the Isle of Wight ..... — 187 

■ . 11. on his e'ca^c fr^m Worcester - - ... — £47 
.- on his arrival at White-ladies and Boscobel «... — $49 
is accompanied by Mrs I.ane from Mosely .... — 254 

— the Great, elected schools with churches .... — 305 

— I. the ghost of him hI Wind«or ...... — 509 

- his ruin occasioned by the defection of the Scots ... — 515 

».^—, an account of his burial - - • vii, 271 

— ——. his ill usage of sir Walter Raleigh's family .... — 391 
, prince, Uie pope's letter to him accounted for - - - viii. 132 

■ his answer, aud account of him at Madrid ... — 13S 

— ■ ■ of Lichtcji'^tein, a favourer of chyniislry ... — 4^ 

— T. th« earl of Strafford'H letter to the king - - - - — 480 

— — — II. assists the king of France -..-- ..ix. 1 

■ makes warm professions of protestantism • ... — f 

,hU partiality aad tenderness for the duke of York - • — <6. 

- .pnnce of Wale^, at the bull,fieht at Madrid .... — fig 

■ II . papers said to be written by him . - . - • — 159 
T. an account of his reign ... .• . » x, 32S 

the narrative of his de*:h - ... ... ^^ Si$ 

11. brought to England in the ship railed, The Naseby - - xi. 17 

— — — .^— the warrior, successor to duke Philip . - - • ri. lOS 

Tt ofSp<iin. his wars with the Fre.nch . • . . . — ^ I06 

— VI. emperor, his various titles .... . . — 276 

- — the ship of that name, sails to Madagascar . . . , — . 535 

— — I. a view of his reign .-...--. x\i. 50 
———, his ill-fattd marriage . -- . .- .•— «5 

, the Hugonots treated as enemies to him ... _ 58. 56 

— , the grievances of his r^ifn stated - - • . • — 69 

————, immorality one of the causes of his murder • . - — fio 

, hypocrisy, a principal ciuso of his mnrder - - • - — 71 

Charles II. an inriut'on to, or. Awake, O EnaUndl . ... vil. 98 

•■ , on his Unding at Dover from the Netherlands - - - .« Ill 

— ■ , on his arrival atCauterburj ar.d Rochester .... — 119 

■ Deptford -..--- . — m 

, an epistle addressed to him ...-..• — sgg 

— — — — , on his encamping at Stirling -.---.-— 88S 

— — — — , his danger of being betrayed by the Dutch . - • . — 5Sf 

, on bis disrlaiming Mrs. Walters ...-•. viiL 511 

, conduct of Tiberius recommended to him .»..«• 014 

■ . bis iMrriaco by Fuller. Msbon of Lincola • « . •• ^. ili 


Charles IT. hb declantion at Breda io the Low CountriM 

— ■, mn account of his re rd . . - . . « . 

Charles V. £niperor, his entrrpriie ai;ainst Algiers failed 

, cardinal Wolsey's second atnbrfssagfl to him 
. — , emperor, came into England, and was well recrived 

— .. - .. , on the mignation of Ins crown • . . . . 
Charles, kioaof France, hi« tnedttaMoo of hostilities ... 
<^amwood forest, on the wonderful breach there .... 
barter, the first and earliest to Uh town of YRrmouth . . . 

■ I of liberty, procured by the bishop of London for the city 

■ of the merchant advrAturers is seixed on ... 
Charters of Newcastle, an account of thf>m . • . . . 
Charthause, a famous monastery of Pavia ..... 
Chatham. Datrh treachery in burninit tha English ships there 
Chatillon's garden, the fort in it rased and demolished . • . 
Cheats of gaming, a discovery of titem --••... 
-- ■ ■ . the Hollanders most notorious ones • . . • . 
Cheddar, senrant to sir John Brooke, on a breach of parliatptBt 
Cbcesa, charted with duty in France - . • ... 
Cbemiiits. taken by duke Bernard of Weimar . * . . 
Cheney* Th< -mas, or the Hermit of fairies, his conspiracy and treason 
Cbese, father le, on the revocation of tlie edict of Nanta 

Cheshire cavaliers blamed 

Chesnay, a follower of Le Clere, interview wiih sir Walter Raleigh 
Chcs«» observations on the game of it • : - • - « 
Chest of silver, in what manner it assuages tempests 
Chester stage coaches, the number of passengers they carry 
— .. ■ ■, on Mt*ry Ilutt's narrow escape there • . • • . 
Cheviot and other hills of the north, a relation of - . . . 
Cheyuell, appointed the head of St John's college, Oxford 
Chichester, bishop of. his Irtter to the archbishop of Canterbnry 
Chickens, on hatching vast qunntities of them by artificial beat 
Cliidley, Samuel, on the punishment of theft, «c. ... 

—— ,hb letter to the judges at the Old Bailey 

— — —— — ■ regulators of the law 

Children, or an account of the countess of Lincoln's nursery 

■ ' , how punished on account of their fathers ... 

■ found, hospital rules tor their regulation .... 
Chilperick, king, his inclosurr of Foumav • . . . . 

■ ■ M was originally visible, &c. . • '. 

Chimay, prince of, general of artillery at Touroay 

China, PhuIus Vcnetus. on transporting the magnet from it • • 

■ — — , the printing of it descril»€<l •-.---. 
— — , the value oJdrirdsacc Ihrte ..--.. 
Chinese m< tliod of gatheiiuc and using Thor or Tea ... 
Chioramontc. the (lestrurtionotit by un eaithquake ... 
Chiozza, a town of Venice, a di-scription of it 

Chippenham, the native place of Mnggleton ..... 
Chmelrica, the synod of, its opposition to Socinus ... 

Chocolate, the natural history of it btated • . . . • 

Choi icks, tobacco clysters recommended for ..... 
C'bolmley, sir Hugh, his preservation of Scarborough fnr the king 
Chorographia, or a survey of Newcastle upon Tyue 
Christening of the prince ot Spain, ceremony attending it - • 

Christenings, how perfornied in Sc<aiand 

Christendom, the earl of rrondamoro termed ihe incendiary of 

, the present state of it «le5cribed 

, the arms of Frtince formidable to it - - . 

■ , the dauRer to it from the ai^grc&sions of France 

Christian rtltgion, the corruption of it bv popes . - . 

■ fiisti, in what manner they ought to h* observed 

■ I elisjiou, i?s persecution under Dioc'ejian . . . . 

blHtCi of Lurope, how (ircumst^incfd in politicks 

— — — burial, the refusal of it for lord Dumferliug 
Mis. Asliton .... 

▼iU. 51i 
X. 9f6 
i. «S1 


a. SSB 

vUi. 176 

, Clovis, th« firM kinij, who*c •lon^ di\idcd France 

Chri^tiauismus (^m istuindtis. H bovok so named . • . 

Christianity, its early cilabhsiiment ill liiil.tin 

■ , introduced into nrilaiu .«fi»'r our Sitviour's d«-uth 

Christians, their grievous peisecutiou from I )iocU siau 

■ , Machiavtl's bold sjecch on itN makim: men cowards 

Christians, whether llic Jrusouqhi to Le received by them 

-, in what manuer it is endangered by war 
Christmas, very fVrquently kept at (iloucestei by William I. 

-— , kept by the kin«j at Norwich ..... 

Chronicle of sir John Oldt.istle, I ly bishop l^ale 

" ■ of Yarmouth or Cerdick sands . - . • 

-■ • of tlie kings of Scotland for nearly 2000 years • • 

, conclusion of the Scotch one - - . 

«-i^— w. , Baker's the parliament of qacta Marj 

- ii. sgr 
• iu. 15C 

V. air 

- xi. 49$ 

• xH. i«r 

viL 5SS 

X- 3ir 

vii. 3(!l 

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T. 8S 

xi. <1S 

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ix. 276 

vi. 19s 

iii. 3RS 

viii. 361 

xii. 125 

vut. 3S 

X. S5 

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vi. 195 

X. 8S 

iii. 324 

▼i. «7« 

— 278 

— eaS 

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vi. 521 

ix. 194 

xi. 117 

— 119-l«l 

— 1«9 
vii. 168 

X. M8 

xii. &3, S4 

xii. 25 

X. ItiS 

xii. Ko 

viii. RS 

vi. 36s 

xii. £5—29 

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xi. 446 

ii. 55S 

vii. 440 

iii. £30 

viii. 105 

— 110 

— Ill 
i. 84 

— 87 
ii. 4fa 

iii. i06 

X. 278 

— C«a 
X. 491 






viii. lit) 

iii. 156 

xi. 384 

i. C45 

ii. Ci)6 

iiu 46t 

vii. 4S5 

viu. 4?6 






Chmoology, iBvcstigation of popish errors in it 
CUrjso^tum, St. i 4l)'»criptioD of iiis thoiif^lics upon gpntlrDCM 
Church, liomisli, ihctr lavs aiul deorees acninsi herettcks 
. of 1 u^laud, danc^ei of it trom po|>i->h intr Qui'S 

, K.oml^h, .•€• ret iirticl* » ot Kome K»r re-eiht'yin^ it 

•— — of Yurk tocioachfd u.on in its rights by Heu^ VIII. 
-- , tTh»t has bet-n dont- »iy 'he rebels lor it - - 

, ni* iiiHiiuuity ai-aiust inuider - - . - - 

• , kingdom uud natioQ. » prescription hov to recover 

, rights or it a:>5ertcd by arcnbishop Laud - - - 

——— of licland, historical coll ctioiis about It 

— ^^— — , ordi-1 for the En^'hsh service there 

- of Home, its foiin ot cxtouimuuicntion, or the pope's cursa 

- iif England, .t> auswf r lo ihw pope's letter 

-, the t n»racter of it ^tiited ..-•-- 
-, increup of ceremouiei in it • • . . - . 

-ofSt. Jonu I.atcrwn .u Rome described ... 
ol M. Peter in Vinculo described 

Churches, monuments and imogrii of kin^^s, See. allowed toreaiain in them 
, oo Ute SpHuiards drinking chi>colate in them . . - . 
Churchill, loru, his letter to king II. ... 

C'hurch\ard, Thomas, his spark of frioud«hip and good will 
Chvmistiy, how favoured by prince Charles of Lichienstein 
Cilley, a deacnption otit-.- -- - -- 

Cinque-poits, ships of, defeated by thfiS* of Yarmouth . . - . 
, Rye, as one of thera, its inferiority to Yarmouth 
, lord Zouch is made lord warden ot them . - - 

■■ the ship so named, touches at Juan Fcrnandes isle 

Ciraera, or ships of burden, the iuTf ution of the Cypriots 
Circumcision ot Mu.stapha, a copiou^ account of It . . « • 

Cirencester, on the St indnrds ta' en there - - . - 

Cities of Loudon and Paris, a dialogue between them • . . - 
Civil conversation on the state of tlie church. between two scholars 
■ wars of Marius and Sylla. and nthers, o^ their effects - • 

. , England's tears tor them ..... - - 

Junsdictiun incompatible with ecclesiastical politj ... 

w«r, on the causes of tlu m by the carl of Clarendon 

Civility money to sheriffs otficeis. the nature of it - • - . 

Clannt kard, earl or, father-iu law to £ssex ..... 
Clans of Scotland, their DHture and operations described . - . 

, lliosc of Dundee, and othen*, rebellion of - - 

Chare, dame Annis, on her unfortunate marriage and exit . . . 
Clarence, the dukt* of, his being drowned in malmsey .... 
Clarcodoo, earl of, his address to the parliament - ... 

. , his two letters ...«.- 

m , causes assigned by, for the eivil war . . . . 

» , his observuiions on the French intrigues 
Clarke, Mary, an assumed name ui Mury Ilutt . . . . • 

Claudius hnnouied as a god by the Britons - - - . - 

Clauserus, his cousenagc as a iianslafor, doubtfully questioned 
Claypole, lord, a creature of Cromwell's, an account of . - - 

Cleaver, Mr. oo cruelty to brutes ...... 

Clemangis, NichoUs, arrhde.icun of Bayonuc on pres'ige of an ewl 

Clement, Mr. Gregory, his confcssiou 

■ ■ ■ , a devoted iool of the papists 

Clere, Ic, sami time agent in Ei gland for the French king 
CJeret, Mr. appointed lo pay the I'rench pensioners in England 
Clergy, Romish, the shocking impurity ot their lives ... 

, reticular or monastic, the pope's jauisaries ... 

, Romish, thtir villainous iutiiznes against England 

— . , on their beiup shaven in pope Joan's days 

^-. , English, on clipping their wings .... 

the decline, of their inilucnce through Anne BuUen 

-, London, on the sequestrations of their livings 
-, English, in what manner degraded by the Conqueror 
-, their decimes or tenths stated .... 
., Romish, Italian proverbs about them 

French proverbs relating to them 

Clergyman, a>lvicc to a young one 

, a nobleman's singular treatment of one . - - . 

. M. Wilh. Em. Ewaldus, a noted one of Altena 

Clerkenwell. a college of Jesuits there - . . . . - 

Clerks of attornies, on the necessity of regi^latiog their number 
Clermont, viscount, taken prisoner at Iloddenfield by the carl of Surrey 
Clifford, bir Robert, his journey to Flanders . - * • 

, is prevailed on to desert Warbcck's party 

Climate, variety of it in different parts of Guiana 
#l«ck, account of the famoas one at Prague . ■ . | 




























































































— 58— 6« 















• • • 






























. 208 


- SI6 




. 6i 


. 58 


. 499 


. 398 


- 404 


• ^ 


. ai« 



Charles IT. hU declaration at Breda io the Low CountriM 
-, an account of hit re gn 

Charles V. Emperor, his entrrpriie against Algiers failed 

, cardinal Wolsey's second ambMssagn to him 
. — , emperor, came into England, and was well recrived 

— - ■ , on the resignation of his crown • . . . 
Charles, king of C'rance, his tnedituMoo of hostilities 
<^amwood forest, on the wonderful breach there ... 
C^aarter, the first and earliest to U|i- town of Yarmouth 
■ I of liberty, procured by the bishop of London for the city 

of the merchant adventurers is seiaed on • - • 

Charters of Newcastle, an account of them 

Charthause, a famous monastery of Pavia - • • . • 
Chatham. Datrli treachery in burning the English ships there 
Chatillon's garden, the fort in it rased aud demolished ... 
Cheats of gaming, a discovery of them -•-•-.. 
-- ■ ■. the Hollanders most notorious ones > . . • . 
Chedder, senrant to sir John Brooke, on a tn«acb of parliaiptBt 
Cheese, charged with duty in France • . • • - . 

Cbemnits. taken by duke Bernard of Weimar . * . . 
Cheney, Th<rmas, or the Hermit of fairies, his conspiracy and treason 
Chese, father le, on the revocation of tlie edict of Nanta 
Cheshire cavaliers blamed ...-.--. 
Chesnay, a follower of Le Clere. interview wiih sir Walter Raleigh 
Chess, observations on the game of it - .■ . • • . 
Chest of silver, in what manner it assuages tempests 
Chester stage coaches, the number of passengers they carry 
— —• ■, on M«ry Ilutt's narrow escape there - - - - . 
Cheviot and other hills of the north, a relation of • . • . 
Chcyuell, appointed the head of St John's college, Oxford 
Chichester, bishop uf, his letter to the archbishop of Canterbury 
Chickens, on hatching vast quitntities of tliem by artificial heat 
Cliidley, Samuel, on the punishment of theft, oec. ... 

^— > , his letter to the judges at the Old Bailey 

— — — — — — '■ regulators of th^ law 

Children, or an account of the countess of Lint-ola's nursery 

■ ■ , how punished on account of their fathers ... 

■ found, hospital rules for their regulation - - . - 
Cbilperick, king, his inclosurr ol Tournay - . . . . 

— — — — — '- ■ was originally visible, &c. . • . 

Chimay, prince of, general of artillery at Tournay 

China, Paulus Vcnetus. on transporting the magnet from it • • 

, the printinp of it described -.---.. 

— — , the value of dried saer ihetc ...... 

Chiuese method of gathering and using Thee or Tea ... 
Chioramonte. the (lestructiouut it by an earthquake ... 

Chiozza, a town of Venire, a description of it .... 

Chippenham, the native place of Mugglcton ..... 

Chmelrica, the synod of. its opposition to Socinus ... 

Chocolate, the natural history of it stated • . . . • 

Cholicks. tobacco clysters recommended for 

Cholmle.y, sir Hugh, his prf5erv;ition of Scarborough for the king 
Chorographia, or a survey of Newcaitle upon Tyne 
Christening of the prince ot Spain, ceremony attending it - - 
Christenings, how performed in Scotland ..... 

Christendom, the earl of (jondamoro termed ilie incendiary of 

, the present sLat«» of it described 

, the arms of France formidaHc to it - - . 

■ ' — , the danger to it from the ai;gressious of France 

Christian rtlmicn, the corruption of it l>t popes - • . 

■ fiusis, in what manner llicy ouijht to h< observed 

reliciiou, ifs I'ersecution unilcr Dioc'c^ian . . . . 

— stales of Europe, how tirtumstiincid in politicks 
burial, the refusal of it for lord Dumferliug 

Mrs, Ashton 

TUi. StU 
X, 9S6> 
i. «S1 


a. SSB 

▼iii. 176 

• ii. sgr 

• iii. 15C 

' zi. i56 

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Tii. 5S$ 

a. 3lf 

Tii- Sfll 

- -. 36s 

▼. 8S 

xi. <1S 

ir. 1^ 

V. 59 

ir. f76 

, Clovis, tin first king, whose sous divided France 

Christi;uiismus Ciiiistiandns, It book bo named 
Christianity, Us early establisninent in lirilain 

— (introduced iuVt Biitnin rtl'tfr our Saviwnri doath 

Christians, their grievous persoi-uliou fuMti DiocU sian 

— , Ma<hi;«vers bold sjeocli on it;, making men cowards 

Christians, whelhor the JcwiOURlit to be nceivcd by them 

■ , in what manner it is eudanj^ered by war 

Christmas, very frftqurn'Jy kept at Gloucester by William I. 
, kept by thf king at "Norwich 

Chronicle of sir Jolm Oldc.isile, l>y bishop Qale 

— of Yarmouth or Cerditk sands ... 

" of tlie kings of Scotland for nearly 2000 years 

, cooelusiou of the Scotch one - - . 

^m^.-,^ , Baker's the parliamcat of qacta Marj 

vi. 19s 

iii. 38ff 

viii. S6l 

xii. 125 

Tiii. 33 

X. 35 

• xi. 468 

vi. 135 

X. 83 

iii. 3£4 

▼i. «7S 

— C78 

— S«6 
iii. 463 
vi. aei 

ix. 194 

xi. 117 

— 119-l«l 

— 1«9 

vii. 160 

X. 508 

xii. £3, 24 

xii. S5 

X. Ij^ 

xii. 8U 

viii. 82 

vi. .168 

xii. S5— fl9 

— 31 
v. 537 

xi. 446 

ii. 553 

vii. 440 

iii. 530 

viii. 1(15 

— 110 

— Ill 
i. 84 

— 87 
ii. 408 

ill. 106 

X. 278 

— e«o 

X. 491 

xi. 1&5 

ii. 90 

— 46il 
ii. 468 

in. 450 

\'\. 433 

viii. lid 

iii. \56 

xi. 384 

i. e45 

ii. CU6 

iii. 463 

vii. 4*5 

Tiii. 4?6 


... _. . ...,„„„,.„ . : . . . K'S 

ninaalagT, i«ci^(iitlBn nf 

« rl»IM> Bj Hf uij vm. 

'cf^JunBUuma KtUunFdaciibtd -' - - - - -^ 109 

BlIK PtUT ViDcuIa dombeJ — IW 

aiflTcbQ,Tnqpiiiii4qtB»iid im-ata 0fk[a[i. Ac. illawvd loramunla Uibib v> Mi 

ChDTcbiiJi Loru, hu leucr [o kinj jAinta II. . _ . . li. m 

c:iiarcb>ud. Thooiu. bli ipirk of friniidtliip and goort will . - ■■- '9 

Ctajnlitii, now taiDuigd'tiy'p'iiiecChxrLH aFLJchleuuiD - - *ni. 4&I 

CUtaj,»ilMr"Kiooofit - - - "- *2 

"o «""• Cyy"ou 

Cltrk»,M»rT M«.ydierti,i,m«uiMi.r>lluti ■- W 

CbudluilDiioBreilu (odb; tlirBliMiii U. M3 

0»unu.lii9'C(UWUiifcu>iiiiiitUlor.ilaiibI(ullT guEiIionctL - - It. M 

tilinol., lord, . iiwhini c.r CiBinxsri'i, III ucouat of - - ■ ri. 40S 

CI«rtr.Hi-™enidl)rMbnHoi •». Jl 

'Cleiiiui^.NU:l»L4i, irdidtKconDrBijonnaaiipni^ic afu titl - i>. IS 

CIminl, Ur.Omsry, hitcimh'utoB Tii. I4a 

CUrr. 1e, mnuIiQiEagcnt in ErgUml FDrUiB Frrncli king - - - lU. 3114 

CErTfj, RointiV bicabockiagliniiurLij of che^rllvet - ' - - i. SK 

|Romllli.>llririilliiiDDiiiiiitn;n«i|>lBtI Eipoliiu.t - ■ - ii. i;0 

: , Englnli'p OB Hipvbithilr-iriiiBB . ^ M< 

, ihericclUmiiftliatrlotliiiiiHthxiuLl: ADDaBuIICD - — i36 

■, LondoD, ItrcAQqDaCrUlfUiaof dieir tiviji;* - - . vii. lai 
.EB|liih,iiiwluiuiiiuillrt-di«n«li'd b;r UiB Cunqotrot ■ it. <6S 

iDt! ubH Triuw-r ■[ IbxTdiDlldd bj lbs eul of Sunfl 

Clarkn trail, (allrgiof Juuiu Ih... 
CWToid, .'ir —„ 



Clodion, kinft of France, tome acconot of bim si. 117 

Clogher, bishop of, Youou'k couourfnt urUers from - - - ' z. X% 

Cionmril, ofiiiiMi lettrr on lUe rapture of It - • - - - - vi. SJ6 

Ciotarius, kioK of Frauce, ttir pitiiuiunof. un'tird in him . . . x. 401 

Clo-b-brPfChes »n< I velrfi-breeches, uie coot est between UiMB • • , ii. Sl5 

-^— , itir mi^rhielB otlulsr tnaking aod kiretciiiDg it . . . . iv. 450 

—^ of bodkin ^i)d oth r rich furuiture uf cardinal WoImj's - - — d38 

-^— workers, tlieir petition supported by lord ilocheibter - - - t. s66 

' — — - Usuicesifui to prfvent unUyed cloth - — 387 

——— makers, an accouitt of their July . .• - . - - ti. 1S4 

•~ — , ^Inxlish, a staple FstAblishtd tor it at Di If Tii. M4 

«— > Imnen, on improving the mauur.i4iur« of il - • - • irtii. liO 
Clothes, ou r}ie mischiefs of fine uues .•.••• •_54 

Ciotliioir and apparel, a disrertatioo upon them ■<•••• ii. dC6 

Cioihwirthy, sir John, his convers«uou with archbishop Laud ou the 

8C4flF>l'l ... .... ..-T. 4M 

Cloud opened, or the description of an English hero .... vii. 40S 

Clovis, tiitt fir>t christian king, whose four %iu% divided FrSwCt . . x. 491 

Ciovne, the bishop of. his letter on aihvisin, Aec. - ••••». 355 

Clubs, Ob the great ironsuniptiou ol timt* th^y occasion • > * ^iii. 6S 

Clyster, intended to destioy sir IIioaas Overbury, effects his denth • t. 384 

Clysters of tobacco recommended ugMiust Choi 'cs • . . • %\i, %\ 

Coach, the first in England, give u to qui«'n Elib^bcth by a Dutchman iv. Clfl 
Coaches, caravans, aud si^grb, ou the necessity of rcsiraioiu^ th«m viti. 17, 5t 

— — and country hOMSf-s, the lun of many tradesmen - . - — 32 

— , the long stages to Yoik, Exeifsr, ^c. ou the number of paMengtrs — 33 

■ — *tag«, the djsadvautMgts of liiem suted ... - .... 39 

, their general injury to ilie health of the people • - — 41 

— ' - ■ — , an impeJimeut to busiu«-s» -• ... ._42 

Coals, the high f rice of them a grievuus abuse upon the public ■ - viu. 50 

* " , how formerly purrhast'd - .- ..--.x. tQS 
Coal trade from Newcastle, on establishing commtssiouer\ for it - - — 17 

— , advantages ot having roinmissiouers - - •— 50 

-—<4ninFS, in vicinity of Newcastle, an Mccouni of inrm . - - »i. 46t 

Coast! of England assailed ami menaced l>y the French > - - — 304 

-■ ■ , tlie supprrssion of them Out liliie iiijuriuus • • . — 44 

- , are destructive of trade . . - - - . _ 43 

Cobham, lord, sir John Oldcastle. his trial stated by bishop Bale • • i. S5S 

Cobieutc, priocev and citirs of the Rheui»h provinces assemble there • v. 4oil 

, several cities uf the euipire resist the detrt cs of - - • — 470 

Cocceias, Michael, on trausfcriinK the empire from Greece to Germany • iii. 408 

Cochen, on the Malabar roust oMnilih, taktn by tlie Dutch • • «ii. 554 

Cock, a question whethei hiH CI owing affrights the lion - . - i«r. ^8 

— — igliiing. the opiaion 0( Mi. Pcrkius, Aud otiiers. on its cruelty • vii. 06 

Cockatrices, account of several amoii(^«l the ue>t of viptTS . . • v. 430 

Cockburn, Mr. his stvrrc ireitliiieui ... . . . - x. 277 

• , Dr. a Scutiiah divniL-. Lis o*iIe aud ircatmrnt bj papis's - — 290 

Cockrao, eolonei, iosiriictioiib lor .legoiabng at ihtf court ot Denmark v. 515 

Codes, M ratio, his exploit Ht r>us Suppiicuin . . • sit. 101 

Cocoa, on thr early state of il iuJuiiuKii ...••. ix. 4£3 

— - unt. or cacaw, a drscripiiou of it ... ... xii. 25 

—— tree. pUces where it glows • — 26 

Codreto. Hanuibal, a .^pauiah ( ncti, ap^jrevrs liie designed murder of the 

queen - .... ...... iii. 5^6 

Codriiipinn. Kobert, his narrative uf the life of the carl of Lsbex • - vi. 5 

Coeur de Liou, Richard 1. of LngUnd, bo ni>med I'ur his valour - • ii. 0^ 

Coffee.huus(. the chMncler of ot.e ilispia>hd .... - viii. 7 

*^~— — .drinking il makes a very uuod ci.nstian of a I urk • - • — 

— —— houiev, declamations Ui, and >um uSAions stiiied - - • — 10 

* — houses, on the I'roprieiy of >uf>pi(&.>iug ii<cm • - - — 17 
*- t the prohibition ol it. how beuetitial to the Lngli&h nation - — S^ 

houses, th«» vindication ot liiom - - • - . . — 75 

— — , the general u^e ot il ... - . - . — 76 

— ^, its commentiaiioiis by lord Vtiulion, Sandys, and Ilowel, &c. - 7- 77 

• > the i.aturi«rhistory of It .... .... xii. £0 

——, its virtues, and etlecis of clrinkicp it to (xcess - • • - — .22 

Cogan, sir Wiiham. and the town olCituilridge, ti.e case of - - - y. 60 

Coin of Adrian, in memoiy of being the restorer of Britain • . . ii. 450 

— ^, on the decay of It in KngUntt iv. 4^ 

-^--, on makinu lifelong toemb«asIeit ..-...- — 457 

-^—, English gold, how its value it! eiihanced .... - x. 37S 

*-~- -: silver, in whai manner to be new coined - - • — Uf, 

——, English, raiding itii value in what respects prejudicial ... — S80 

Coke, lord, his opposition to tlie lord chancellor stated • " * X* '^^ 

. Mr. his narrative of the circumcision of prince Mnstapha • viii. 90 

Cold humours, a common cause of apoplexies - ... vii. 383 

Cole, >Villixm, his rod for the lawyers, or grand robbers of the nation • vii. f5 

C«lcmaii'spackeu, some account of them stated • - . • • is. 300 


Vd. 9t$; 

Colhorn, hit fbrtificaUoBS of Btrgen-ep-Zoom stated .... x\. 138 

Coligni, admiral, an accoant of his massacre -••-•- ijc. 3M 

Collections, historical, for the church of Ireland in Henry VIII.'s reign Tiii. 534 

, historical, on the succnsion of the Enghsh crowUj - • — 271 

, reUtiTP to Ireland from the bishop of Meath ... — 544^ 

———, 00 the impropriety of those for the poor - • • - ia. 48T 

, Rusbworth's, on designs of the Jesuits .... xii. 6I — 64 

College, the English one at Rome, an account of - - • • • ii. 190 

———, on a tub carried into the Jesuits college in Bararia • > • iv. 46 

-, Wolsey becomes fellow of Magdalen, in Oxford . . . . _ 4Q0 

, reasons for making Mr. Harry the head of Trinity in Oxford . vi. 135 

, the model of one to supply students for from Westminster school vii. 60 

, the description of a Scotch one -.-.-- -x. 513 

Colleges, mona<teries, and nunneries of Englbh papists abroad • - — 430 

CoIHds. his merry conceit for deferring to take tiie covenant • - vii. 4S8 

Cologne, passport granted from to convey French stores up the Rhine > — 50T 

, in tne Wesi Indies, thfir rise and progressive increase - • — 403 

Colonirs, an (:stiroate of their advantage to England - • . > ix. 4^ 

Columbus, Mr. llarriogton, author of Oceana, deemed the modern one vii. 83 

Columna, Johannes de, « good writer of chronicles • • • > iv. 14 

Trajana, some account of it --•..-. xii. J06 

Anlooiniaoa, ditto - - - - - •^- - - — ih. 

Comedy of John Biiptisl in the Wildern^*, by bishop Bale . . . i. 80S 

Comet, a blazing one seen at Con&rantinople ••--.-▼. 19$ 

Comines, his history of Lewis XI. referred to . - . . . -viii. 519 

, his account of an English treaty w»lh France • - . xii. 9 

Commencement dinners at Oxford and Cambridge, a comparison to - ii. 9^ 
Commerce, treaties of, their intention and design - • . . - iv. 451 
, on regulating duputes about it by a court of merchants - vii. 31 

■ of India, on the Dutch attempts to exclude others from - — 534 

— , on the PVench attempts at an universal one ... viii, 110 

Commissary general of Turkey's letter to the states of Holland, &c. . iii. £?1 

Commissiou of James I. to sir Walter Raleigh, knt. ..... — 371 

of the earl of Manchester against scandalous ministers - v. 329 

for removing scandalous ministers in the county of Suffolk — 331 

of general Fairfax is surrendered by a manoeuvre of Cromwell vii. 281 

Commissioners of ecclesiastical court, bishop of Rochester's letter to • i. 313 

• of the union of England and Scotland, James I.'s allusion to iii. 11 

Commissioner Fienncs, son of lord Say. his great qualiiirations • . vi. 489 

Lisle, his great qualifications for the upper house - - — 4y4 

• li^nnes, brother, his pliancy and qualibcations • - — iO'i 

of |>rizes, their delays in accounting for them ... xj, 143 

Committee of merchants, forjudging of con mercial subjects • - iv. 461 
, advantages to be expected from it • - - — 46« 

■ ■ for reguUtiog the law. proposals made to them - - • vi. 289 

■ of safely, their receipts and disbursements stated - ■ vii. 147 

of gnevHUccs, a bill drawn up by them for parliament - - x. 179 

Common prayer, Ammidab Blower's lecture 00 it - • - - - iv. 177 

Commoner, fellow of Enijland, the speech of one in the convention - ix. 318 

Commons and peers of EugUad, discourse on their power - - - iv. 355 

, an order agreed upon in the house of----- — 371 

hou^e of parliament, orders, privileges, &c. of ... — 55^ 

and lords, ordinances of, for deuiolishiug organs, &c. * - v. 440 

houi^e of parliament, or account of the plague at Westminster vi. 45 

, a seasonable speech made in it • - — 532 

and lords of parliament, on the king's advising with them • viii. Vii 

■ ■■-, letter to a new meratier of the house of - - - • xi. 140 

.. house of piirliament. on the votes of it - * - - — 144 

letter to lord Fairfax 00 wastes and - • . . . _ 485 

Commonwealth, Leicester's, fully epitomised and stated - « - iv. 470 

, on making men's talents useful in it - . . . vi. l6o 

.-■ ■ , deplorable nt«»te of England under it .... vii. 99 

" , the ready way to establish a free one - « • • -.115 

— , advocates for, the r and the papists* design - • viiL 410 

' denned a lawful government of many families - - — 47t 

Commonwealths, how they generally enlarged their empire ... — 339 

— , weak on<s most commonly want resolution - - . — 343 

— , account of those of Venice and the United Province* ix. 484 

■ , how they make useless pei sons profitable ... — 409 

— , on their care of their people, and that of Lucca stated — 49I 

Communication of judge II'ile> with the Chancellor on lady Jane Oraj i. 3f5 

— — of lady Jane Gray with Dr. Frckenham - . . • — 369 

Companies, trading ones, various sorts of them recounted - . - iij. 313 

. livery, 00 their formerly purchasing corn for granaries > x. 263 

■ , the good effects of their conduct stated ... — ^, 
Company of stationers, their incorporation by queen Mary stated - - Tii. 105 
Compass, or pyxb nautica, the iuTentionof it by John Ooia - - vii. 167 

■ , attributed to the Chinese - - • . — I6i 

■I , tbt variation of it, with itt variatioo dbplayd • • - — 179 



rA Five . 

Compeigne, on Lewis XT. befog thtre .--..-. xii. lo 
Complaynte and Praier of the Ptoweman unto Christ* • . ^ . i. 15S 
Concessions, the empf^ror's, to his protestant tubjectt of Hungaf7 - vili. 511 

Coode, prince of, his re»<»lut« condact dwcribed ----- ix. ti% 

. an account of his being poisoned • - .-—<&. 

Condcniuntion of the Spnnish Lyes, frc. ..---..ii. 118 
Comiurt of the princf-ss of Oranee, the prudence of it • • - - x. 5i€ 
Confy's notorious asaftp by Cromwell, and his counsel imprisoned - vii. 355 

Conffdetacies, (iisregardfd by ihf SpHrtHUS and Athrniiiua ... viii> 339 
Coaterc nee between the two roonarchs of Fr4nre anri Spuin - • • ▼. 118 

■ s about the miirder of sir Thomas Overbury .---.. 370 
Confession of a Jacobin friar of mnrderine Henry IV. of Praare • - ii. 14T 
of Weston of sir Thomas Overburv's bcin? murdered - . t. 301 

. of the counters of Somerset, of sir Thomas Overbary's mntdor — 3^8 
. of Marsiiall and Prynur on the nature uf ihe conquest - • ti. 178 

Confession of murdi r. by lieut. John Strrn, on Mr Thyune . . . -« 9 

■ of Cape. VrKt* n tative 10 the murdrr of Mr. Thynn« • • — 14 

■ of George Korodziik on tijr snme subject - - • - — 44 

of Mitchell, his cxecut'on un tliMt te^ti'nony only • • • x. £37 

■ ■■ and speech of lieebaud on conspiracy to be* ray Holland • — 430 
Coufesssions, the popish tortures to extr it from hereticks ... viii. 4^0 
Confessor, kinK EdwMrd so called, on altcnug the laws - - • vi. 918 

, Edward surnamed. mn actouat of Insh.ippy rrigm - • ix. 457 

Conhdenre of th(> people against lleniy Ilf.'s sheriff's, &c. ... vii. 91 

Conformity in reiigioD. how It bi comes a Pandora • . . • . ^i. 258 
Conyratulatory spferh to ^ir Robert Sherlf-y ------ iii pf 

Concre^ation of propag-iting the faith stated ..-.-- viU. I9O 
Conido. Jnltn d^ Ic, of Bt«c«y, on the Spanish loffl on English c<Mttt ii. 54 

Couisby, sir lirnry, sheriff uf llpr'ford^hire, st-iaed by Cromwell - - Tii. fTT 
Conuin^smark, count, his projected murder of Mr Thynne - - • ix. 10 

— , a letter signed by him is prodnred - - - — 48 

Connivance, justice, natuie of his ait' rement with Lacifer ... iy, jgf 
Conqueror, hi i demand of the English crown from Harold . - • iii. 138 

■i , in what sen^e the name of it was detestable ... ^ri. 101 

, ought to be esteemed king of England by St. Edward's will — 108 

— defeat^ Harold's forces at Hastings ----- ix. 498 
• plunders and impoverishes the English monasteries . . _ 45s 

— , WilliNni, surnamed, on his beine surrounded at Swanescombe — 400 

Conquest of Spanish Amei tea, projeeted by Sir WHlter Raleigh - - lit. 530 

■ — , the right and title of it und'-r Williatit I. discussed • - Ti. 170 

-, dees not authorixe the spoiling the goods of the people . • .— 177 
^ — - ., the mischiefs of it ought to be removed • ....... ]80 

■ ■ -, the effects of it ou our ancient laws ....... 210 

— and the designs ot the Spartans - > .... ^iii. 339 

, on o.>taiDing monarchy by the mode of, ----- Ix. 335 

' ■ , the Daumli one. too violent to be lasting - « - . — 345 

■ , the calamities of a French one considered - . - . — 450 

Conradus Abbas UrspeternMs, on silence about pope Joan - - • iv. 00 
Conscience, Robin, or Cnn^cionablc Robin, a burlesque poem - - i. 03 
of the earl of Somerset becomes his accuser •---▼. 3&3 

■ , a case ofreitoUed, 00 mmisteis meddling with stateraatters vi. 190 

on admikNion of Jews amongst us - - — 438 

a coy and squeMmish one, the greatest remora to grandeur vii. 533 

on the mischiefs of tlie persecution of it - - - • viii. fQB 

, Robin, a reference to the poem so named - - • - ix. 45 

, cases of, and queries upon them . . . - . ^ii. 800 

Consent, enquiry whether to be deemed the foundation of monarchy - ix. 334 

Consistory of presbyters, scene of in the Scottish politick presbyter - x'i. 85 

Conspiracies and insuneetirns, their danerr to government* - • riti. 149 

Conspiracy apninAt queen Elisabeth, how cr>nducted at Rome - - li. 173 

of the earl of Oowrie against king James of Scotland - - — 334 

- of one Alexander and others, as connected with earl Oowrie — Ml 

, the testimony of James Weirais on it .... - — 515 

.■ William Rynd on the same .... — 347 

■■ — ■ Andrew liendersounihereupon ' - - . — 349 

» - »f Absalom ttated. or thetragrdy of treason ... ^\\, 4711 

of b< trayine Holland to the French, aa account of it - • ix. 4i5 

of Mons. de Montmorency stated • - - - - — Sfi£ 

Conspirators, after detection of the plot, attempt to escape ... iii. 3f 
, several of them shot, and the rest taken - - - - — S3 

in the gunpowder plot, an account of them • . Tiii. 150, Szc, 

Constable of Windsor castle, Buckingham is appointed - ... v. 309 

————— particulars relative to the nature of his offiro - - - vi. ]9t> 

of Prance, account of him -.-..-- xii. 9, 14 

Constantine escapes from Rome into Britain to his father ... ii. 4^ 

succeeds his father Constanrius, and becomes sole emperor — 470 

■ — , tlie Thermae Antoninv built by him ..... xii. 103 

Constantinople, Cornelius Haga sent ambassador to .... iii. sis 

, on a blaain^ comet seen there ---..-▼, 191 

' , thajanisanctgcatUiithTfronAdriipoplo • • . . 198 


r«l. Fyt 

CpntUntiuB bnrns th« ships wliicb brooght him to BriUim - - - ii. 4OT 

, hi<» character ttatfd, and death ...... — 470 

Constitotiou of EDi^laod, in what manner ditsolved • - • - ix. 81C 

CoDtuls, oa English ones in the porta of Spam ..... Yili. 40t 

Conuy. M. de, ucrooiuiishes a peace with the duke of Burgundy • xii. 18 

Contemplations of Sir John Fenwick, on life and death • - • - z. 388 
Conteution of the archbishops of Canterbury and York «... iii. 165 

. attorri«y, naturt: of his ai^recment witli king Locifer - - iv. 39^ 

Comiiteot, the 9Utc of it from the restlessness of France . . • viii. IIS 

Contsen, the dread lui plot of him and oihrrn to restore popery - • i. Stt 

Conventirler, a rooked one, bow he repays himself .... viii. 84 

Conventicles, how far lawful to frequent then, auJ forsake cborchef vi. 311 

, were srwtJy haunted by Looowick Muggleton • - viii. 8S 

Convention, a speech in it for settling the government ••-•». 318 
Conversaiion about war in the packet boat from Calais .... ^iii. 148 
Con>ersion of an English cortez-in, by wha' means ... \w. S5S 

Convert, the infatua'ion of a Mug^U-tonian one ..... viii. 85 
Converts, the dreadful cruelties dfthe Kr4'nch,to make them . . ix. 464 

Convicts, on tJie pardon of those in Newgate . . . • > viii. 1£4 

Convocation of clergj in Hem y II. 's time --.«.- t. 234 

f its ad<lress to the king ..-..-.«. I68 

■ . how continued without a parliament .... xii. 6f 

Convoys, on the propriety of Engl sh ones calhng at Tangier * • ruL 40t 

Cooyers, father, the absurdity of his story on sir Edmundhnnr Godfrey ix. 389 

Cook, secretary, his successful opposition to the manoeuvres of CuneiM - vlil* 198 
Cooke. Alt-xauder, his dialogue about pdpe Joan • • . - • W. 9 
Cookery of king James's treat for the devil, a description of - ' WL 448 

Cooper, colonel, a shookeeper in London, his character stated - • vi. 600 

, sir Anthony Ashley, accused before the Rump Parliament, &c. ix. 4j| 

Coo(>ers. the dutjr of them as laid down by serjeant Thorpe • • vi. 185 

Cope. flarpsfielJ, on St. Patrick's expelling veui^mous beasts from Treland iv. 44 
■, hjs der.laraiion on as<«ertions founded on more reports — 40 

Coperoican hypothesis, how to be cousiderrd with the scripture . . v. 508 

Copies, ancient oa*^ of writers, on judeing of them • • . . iv. 48 

. omissions in ancient ones, how to be acrounted for • * * — 48 

Copper-box, an account of one found in tlie monastery of Bruna • - viii 465 

■ ■ , how secured on Wcnccslaus being sent to a dungeon . . -. 46O 

■ ■ " bow secured on the death of an old father there . . . _ 494 
Copy of faculties transmitted by cardinal Bromio .....— 457 
Coquetry of maJamoiselle Kamboalet displayed • - . . - ix. 88P 
Corbet, Mouniford, and others executed for Warbeck*s treason <• • xi. 418 
Corbett,Miles, esq. his learned speech in the House of Commons • • vi. S6 

i , Mr. appointed orntur of the university of Oxford - - — 135 

Cordwainers, on their duty as stated by Serjeant Thorpe's chaii^e • vi. 183 

Corker, I. his letter on sir Edmundbary Godfrey's murder ... viii. 440 

Corn, benefits of its purchase by livery companies . • • . > x. 868 
Cornish, the reasons assigned by the earl of Pembroke for succeeding Dr. 

Wall vi. 135 

, in what manner wheedled to a gibbet • - - • • ix. 310 

■ people, on their denouncing the archbishop of Canterbury • xi. 4S2 

. , how they advanced to Salisbury and Winchester - — 485 

- ■ ■ , on arrival at Blackheath in Kent - - • — 4^ 

Cornishmen, on their resisting the subsidy for war — 488 

. -, tlirir arnval at Salisbury -..-.,-— 4^5 

m. — , the deience made against them by the city of London • -7- 4S6 

Cornu Copia. or a Miscellaneum of experiments and observations • vi. 540 

Cornwal. proceedings of the parlinmeot forces there .... v. 564 

———, on tlie lunding of Peter Wnrbeck in that county - - . xi. 4.13 

Cornwallis, Sir Charles, Ids letter to lord Digby on tlie Spanish match iii. 39f 

■ , his account of f-rince llcnry • ... — 51^ 

Coroner, the duty of one as stated in serjrMnt Thorpe's charge at York vi. 180 

Corporations, powor of many to chuse oHiccrs without speiial writs • vii. 98 

, London deemi-d the gcneml pattern for other - - • x. 856 

Corpus Christ! day. the king of Spain's procession on it - • - * ii. 5dtf 

Corracles, or Corroghs, a dnscnption of these among the Irish • • vii. l65 

Correspondence of Je&uits, the mi aiuro of it stated • - - viii. 208 

Corries. Hugh, is conhccrated archbishop of Dublin .... — <^ 

Corrigidor. an account of the office of one - • - . - • x. 483 

of a wise wanton into a modest matron, how effected • — — 858 

Corrupt methods of executing or conniving at laws among the great • iv. 814 

. laws, the rules of them investigated and stated . . . _ S15 

Corruption, jailor, the nature of his asreemcnt with king Lucifer - • iv. 394 

and deficiency of the Enitlish laws discovered . . . vi. 518 

Cortex, on being e.ttertained by Montexuma with chocolate • • . xii. 86 

Corunoa, or the Groyne, the misconduct of an English sailor there • ii. 543 

Coryat, John, an account of his curious travels on the continent - • xi. 4B5 

Cosmus, his pillar for the victory of Siena .... . . xi'u 80 

, on the cup presented by him to pope Gre^ry .-..•-- 97 

CosBok, the laird of, bx» boast converted to a garriSMi -.•.«• Mi 



Co0S«dts, tli« manner of thfir encaxnptnentt «nd modes of atUck 
— — — , in wh«t manner they overmaUhcd the Turkish, troops 
Cottam, Rdw4rd, a Jesuit, his account of plou agaiust the English 
Cottinfton, lord, hit ceii»uie of Bastwiik, Burton, and Frjinne 

, the Oxford incendiary's ridicule of him and Bristol 

Cotton, Air Robert, en ihf iinliquity and digutty of parliaments 
' ofUie \Ve»t InuifS, the nature of its produce 

— — , the mode of m.tnaging it in general 

CottOQ-trees. very larce ones Ht the isle ot .Tuan Frrnandcs 
Covenant, some articles of the solemn league stated ... 
- - Dr. Collin's m« rry obsrrvalisu on taking it - - 

CoTcnantar, the discussion of a vow made by one . . . 

Covouanters of Scotland, tht« marquis of Huntlev't rep^y to them 

— , vermin so dcf me^i iu Scotland by Uic English people 

CoTf otry and Litchfifld, bi^hup of, speecli by him to the Commons 
— ■ ■ , frandsot Robert Youne on Mr. dld» therf 
— ^— ^, Joseph Olds of that city, his iutormation about Toaog 
Cover, an account of the decay of its port - . . • 

Covetous maa, no benefit from him iu the present life - . . 
Coveiousuess, the u«r of it to the godly - • . . . 

Councellors, a description of some plixnt ones, abuse of 
Council, the assembly of one f«r investigating the guupowder plot 
— — — of Jews, a narrative of a great one by Brett 

for tlic army, eulonrl Pride's proposals to stated 

— of stale. Chidiey's petition to it 

— of Cromwell, the salaries ^nd places possessed and occupied bj 
-^. the king of Spam's letter to the preMdent of the English 

— of Trent unmasked bv father Paul . . . • . 
', Aulic, an account of it slated 

Council house of the Romans, uamed Campodorlio - > . • 
Counterfeit kills, the danger of them how L'Uiirded against 

•- king of Poitugal, Sebastian called one - - . . - 

Counties, on rcKistering deeds in the in •.•.... 

— >■■ , the sherifls of, writs i^'^ued to them - • . • . 

County alms-houst:s, observations upon them - - . . • 

•■ ■ ■■ , publick granaries on establishing for them 

Country clergyman's letter to his brother on the duties of his office 
Courage, an animated apostrophe to excite it in the breast of Englishmen 

■ , on tlie means of exercising it, ^mply illustrated . ■ • 

, aipe^U to the valorous Romans, &c. for piomotingit 
■ , tiiC p»'rtinence of it from the examples of their ancestors 

— —— of sir Philip Stapleton, an account of it - - . - • 

■■ , the firm valour and boldnets ot miijor Skippon - . - 

■ — , the true nature of it investtghted .-...- 
-■ , the iinportancc and necessity of it in a member of parliament 
Court of parliament, a description of it by king James . . . • 

, the various places where it usually kept th#* festivals 
— — , moths and uii<-e of it, their calumn> of prince Henry - - - 
■ ■. a sec;et embassy from France about peace to tlie English court 

■ of England, r»'novation in. auguring Wolsey's fall • . • . 
~^—leet, the original designs of its i/isriiution M<>ted • . • • 

, on the countess of Somerset being banished from it - - - 

— , on Mrs Swinuerton being reprove«l for impudence in one 
■copbowrds, in what manner they are >frveu by joiners - . - 

— — • of requeslf in Westminster and other places, mischiefs of - - 
——^^ favourite, the chanuter of an ill on»! . - - 

■ of James II. alter abdication, at St Germain's in France 

■ — , petitioning for redress of abuses, a niilliiy there . . « 
Courtcuise, Robert, eldest son of the eooqueior, j'urcefded in Normandy 
Courtier, an upr-tart one, or a qu;iint dispute humourously decided 

■ , a disbanded one, the character of • - . - . . 
Courtiers and their opponents, aecount of, in the reign of Richard II. 

, advantaces gained by thf-m acainst the conspiratois 
Courts of law. how altered and changed in the conqu* ror's time 

■ of jusiice. their constant lemoval with the king and his family 

— — — , on the impropriety of counsellors in making motions in - - 

' , on the intrigues of those who attend I hem - . - - - 

-■- . of Europe, ttie intrigues of France in Uiem .... 
— — , on filing afhdavits in the offices of the several ones ... 
Courtship, a strange one of a clergyman stated ..... 
Couseniog,the great use of it, to the godly - • . 

Cowardice, trial of colonel Kirkby for it, with others ' • ... 

■ caplaio Samuel Vincent, aud others for it 

■■ ■ ■ Christopher Fogg and others for it 

Cowley, Abraham, a copious account of his vision on Cromwell 
Cewper, Spencer, and others, their trial for the murder of Sarah Stout 
Crab, Roger, the English hermit, an account of him .... 
f , dedication of his namtif e to Oodbold 


































— . 

























































































































• • 


jCrabbsts, Isolani, general of, lost his life at the battle of Latsen • « iv. igo 

Cracovia, on Sociuas*s ill treatmeut there • • . . • • vi. 366 

Creation, on the destsQ of the Creator io forming creatures of passage - t. 501 

■ of knights of the bath, in what manner performed in peace - Tli. 151 
Creator of the gout, the devil exculpated from being - • • • x. 39t 
Credit of the detection of Mary, queen of Scots, a letter aboat • - i. 382 
^ , the little which is due to many of the popish writers • ' ir. 86 

, nature of a bank of that description ...... x. 375 

—^—, on the utility of bills of that description ..... — 376 

, bills of, on the value of them in Holland • . . . 1. — yj^ 

Creed of St. Athanasios, some brief notes upon it ..... xii. 130 

Cremona, the city of it described ... .... . — igg 

Creqoi, marshal, on besieging Luxcmboorgh • . «... ix. 88 

Cressy, an appeal to the batiie of to animate Englishmen ... ii. lot 

- ■ , account of the battle of it---- .». ^iii. 1(J5 

——> the king of Bohemia slain at the battle ef it .... ... 167 

— , on the battle there, and its fatality to the French • • . z. fiOJ 

Creswell, provincial of the English Jesuits in Spain .... ^iii. 150 

Cretching, one of the anabaptist r^ls in Germany seised • • • ▼. S6S 

■ , on his being delivered over for ounishment by the chril power — 476 

Croce, Santo, 00 the damage -done there Dy an earthquake ... x. IQB 

Croesus, on Solon's wise saying to him - • . • • • rii. 86 

—— ^y on ttie speaking of his son, who was dumb • - . • xi. 5 

Croissy, Colbert de, the French ambassador, his manoenvres • • ix. S 

, his dealings against the Hollanders . - • — S 

, procures a secret treaty wita tlie English court - — lb, 

Croker, sir Christopher, one of the nine wortliies of London • > xU. 184 

Cromwell, Uicbaid, his speech to both houses of parliament • • i. 25 

- — , his leiter of resignation of government ^ - • — 88 

, Thomas, his conversation with cardinal Wolsey - - • iv, §39 

— , iuveiehs against articles of treason against Wolsey - 54o 

, lord general, his indignation against lieutenant colonel Joyce ▼. K( 

— — ^ ..^ , his protestation of ignorance of Joyce's conduct — tb, 

, Joyce's remonstrance to him which excites hatred — ib, 

• • , his base and unworthy languace against Joyce — 558 

- , his artful duplicity atiout Finckley park . . — . *^ 
f lady, on her parliament with queen Fairfax .•.▼!. lyd 

, madam, her curious dialogue with queen Fairfax . . _ 15^ 

■ , lord general, his speech in July, 1653 — 331 

>' » , on the manner of chusing his parliament ... — 4^ 

, on the members excluded from his parliament . - . — . 457 

■, the salaries and emoluments of tiia council stated . • _ 4^ 

■ ■ — , the lawyers recounted in his garbled parUament . . _ 451 

, officers of foot regiments in Scotland in the same parliament — 465 

— — ■' iu Scotland, in parliament, an account of . — 466 

, civil officers of Scotland in the same parliament stated - — 468 

, an account of the kinglings who voted for his being king - — 473 

1 the second narrative of his Ute parliament - . . — 4^2 

, his hasty dissolution of the late purliament, an account of • — 485 

, Richard, some account of him and h<9 proceedings • . _ 403 

, Oliver, his dispute about precedence in hell with pope Alexander VI. — 5t9 

»■ , io what manner he abused the confidence of parliament vii. 51 

, an abstract of traitors and tyrants ... - — joq 

. , the historv of his life and death - - • — 273 

, Kccouni of his debaucheries, turning paritan, &c. • — 275 

'■ , seizes sir Henry Conisbj, sheriff nf Herts . . — J77 

, is made lieutenant general under sir Thomas Fairfax — 278 

,his ?reat and successful cicrtioos at Naseby - - ~~ ib. 

.^_ , account of his storming Tredagh in Ireland - . — 280 

- — • , the artifice practised by him to subvert Fairfax . . — jsi 

. , how he made himself protector of Enftland • - — S82 

— , his gaibled parliament, and account of his death - — 283 

, his death, a public benefit - - - • • ix. 285 

, a comparison of him with Dionysius the tyrant . > -. S}^ 

— — ■ — ' , his lenrned sermon .■...- .. x\. 544 

■' ■ — , sir Philip Warwick on hid army ... . xii. 71 

. , a portraiture and description of him - • . — 72 

Crookbaurk, Edward, an account of pretences for superseding him • • iv. 477 

Cropshin, a speci»s of red-herrinc. humourously described • > . ii. 328 

Cross, on bishop Jewel's preaching at Paules, on the nails of Christ • — igo 

Crosse, ins mission to attack tiie Jesuit's college in Clerkenwell xii. 6I 

Crown of England, conditions of, succession to it • - - • i. 55— M 

- , on Voidras laying claim to it ... .. — gg 
, promised to William, and acceded to by Harold « iii. 129 

- • , IS usurped br Harold, but claimed by William - — 130 

Crownof England awarded to king William by the pope > - - iii. 132 

" , the. history of its succession ..... ix. £43 

•—>^-» the French, the duke of Exeter sent to demand it • - - x. S05 

•f England, 4cc. asuipcd by Akbard IU. - • • ^ • — Sl« 

xxviii XVOKX. 

CrownofSimin, tbeduke of Ai\jo«MCC»ttds toit . • • . ^ 4|8 

■ of bQRland, the claim made to it by the dudieM of Burgandj - — 479 
— ~— of Sfwin, is devised to tliehou^of Boarboa • ... — 00o 

, oo Walker, landlord of a pubtick boose so named • . . xi. 40T 

Croycery, in thu bishop of Norwich's possession, account of • • nii* 2S8 

Cnieicies of the duke d'Altra io the 14 ctherlands. ao account of - v. 179 

— . . . of the Dutch at Amboynit in the East Indies - • • vii. 5M 

» . ■ and barbarity or the Dutdi to the English at Amboyna • - — SGH 

— — — of the papists to protestants stated Tiii. 414 

— of the French to make converts to popery - - - - ix. 46% 

Cruelty of the gunpowder plot, stated by king James to parliament - iii. 7 

• of the Spanish court projected against England by the uivasion — 517 

■■ of Paul 1 1 . pop*-, against Platina stated • - > • iv. ^ 

■ .., the excessive nature of the duke d'Alva's exemplified • • ▼. 177 

to brutes, Mr. Perkins's essay upon it .... - rii. 71 

._ of the duke d'Alva in the Ketheriands to protestants • - — SSS 

Crying sin, a cry against it .•-••--- • in. 87< 

Cuckow, obserrations on its being occasionally found in aommer - • ▼. MS 

■I . , on the short flights made by this and other birds • . . _ fl(k5 

's nest at Weatminster liissected .... . . vi. 135 

. ■ '■ s, the cannibal ones described .... ..... uf 

Culpepar, lord, the earl pf Glamorgan's letter to him from Watarfird * ▼. 678 

Cummin, Kobert. destroyed at Durham ix. 408 

Cuneus, legate of the pope, a display of his artifice .... ^lij. j^ 

, is opposed by the archbishop of Canterbury — 197 

■ ■ Mr. Secretary Cook - - — igs 

Cuno-belin, the governor of the Trinobantes, resided at Camalodunum . ii. 409 

Cupboards, court ones, how Joiners serve them .'•... ^. 7f 

Curate of Domfront, an anecdote concerning him .•..•.. 393 

Curatrs coisference between two scholars, on their hard eonditioo • ir. Sjt 

Care of Margaret Jesaop b]f a pretended miracle discussed • . - It. S4 

V— - for tyranny, patience insuffideut tor it • • • • . • ix. 90t 

w— , an humourous one proposed for madness - • • • • x. 401 

Curfew bell, rung in the evening, to put out lights, and prevent conspiradea iii- ]5t 

Currents, reasons assigned why they are no principle of tides - • viii. 4 

Curriers, the nature of their duty stated ...... ^. xgj 

, the duty of them farther described ...... — 12% 

Cursing and swearing, on necessity of punishing them - , . . - xi. IS 

Curteen, sir William, on his seisure of two ships vii. 5SS 

Curtesan, an English one, an extraordinary way of converting - . iv. CSS 

Curtius, an appeal to him to animate loyal Englishmen - • . - ii. lot 

*—-, Marcus, on his leaping into the gulf - » . . . xii. lit 

Cushion, on the scheme of delivery devised at Dudleyosstle • . it. 475 

, the mockery practised at the pretended interment • . . _ ^, 

Custom of Denmark has a near affinity to the laws of England - . Ti. tl8 

", various instances stated of beio^ supported by the laws . viii. 389 

Customs, language, and manners, diffcreui-e in, disadvantage of . iii. 154 

, ancicut oue^ of Kogland copiously staled - - - > iv. 3^9 

■ , with the orders aud laws of swans ... vii. $91 

■ of i-rance, a de'trripiion of tlieir nature * - • . • x. gl4 
Cutting. Shuffling, aud Dealing, or n Game at picquet .... ^jj, ^ 
Cuttios ot DersfUhiie. his promotion for merit stnted - - • « xi- 16 
Cutts, lord, and niHuv others, dis^ust^d with the conduct of king James x. 531 
Cypher, the three fold one ot the pope's lefiate ..... Yiii. 205 
Cyprian, archbishop of Carthage was beheaded ..... y, 490 
Cypriote, the inventors ol the ciraera, or ships of burden ... rii. 16$ 
Cyrenians, invented the lembi, frigates, or light hwrks - - . . — ^. 
Cyriacu^, left out of the rer.ister of popex, with the reason . • • iv. 6S 
Cyril, St. obtains leave from the pope for Muravian service in their own 

language . , .^ 4$ 


K. D. his general character stated, being no changeling • • - iv. 71 

Dsdalus, the inventor of masts and sails tor ships : . . . vii. 164 

Dagger of Rhud, proposed as a remedy agaiuit a t> rant - • • ix. S9t 

Dagon, on the necessity of pulling down thi» political idol . • . — 304 

Daintry, a letter of Iting Charles trom It to the qureu > ... x. 576 

Pamage in Norwich and iu Noifolk by ihuudcr aud lightning - . Ti. 423 

at Palfrmo, by an earthquake in Sicily . . - • x. L(i3 

» at Cefaroero, by the same calamity ...... — jy« 

'■ done at Whiteluilby tiie fire tiiere ...... — ^ 

Damaacs done by the anabaptists at Munstcr, reparation of demanded • v. 475 

Damian>i«, P^ter, his letter ---....., Jij. 301 

Danby. the «Mrl of, impeached of high-treason ..... yjii. jgji 

Paucing. a severe censure upon tlie mischievous effects of it - • - li. 5i5 

— — and balls, oa their being supported 10 exeats ... xdu M 

iin>Bz. sdx 

Pants, Uie battle of Keadingy wfaea fought afain'st them - • - iv. oT 

■ », archbishop Laad oq Elfegus losing his head by them . . . t. 479 

- ■ -. on their luUoff Eogland till the restoration of the Saxoof - ri, £l6 
]>anger of the king and parUameot intimated by a private letter • - iii. 17 
»-^—, interpretation or it by the kinc, of some secret design ... — is 
•^——, Thomas Winter's confession of the whole plot and extreme - — £t 

- of the West Indies from sir Walter Raleigh ....... 535 

of the Oitotnaa empire, in Osman'i advancement - • • ▼. ISf 

of Viliiers, duke of Buckingham •..-••... 318 

of king Charles I. in the city of Oxford • - • • - tI. 29 

of Faustus Socinus from his opponents •....•_ SOO 

•^— of king Charles II. tliat the Dutch would betray him « - tU. 5JS 

- of popery, the quaker's remonstrance upon it • • • - ix. 37S 

■ of the ^»eace with France discussed xi. IBS 

- of the town of Ulm in Germany from the French • . • — 194 
Dangerfii-Id, his temptation to murder the earl of Shaftesbury • • ix. 50 
Daniel, the historiaa, a quotation from him on the eonqnest r - v>* 09 
Danish preparations for the invasion of England by Canotus « • iii. 14T 

■ ■ , in what man.ier ihey were counteracted - - — <ft. 

■ negotiation for the service of Charles T. by colonel Cockran - v. 5if 

-^ intruders, people of the same oriijinal with the Englikh' - • vi. 98 

"■ treachi>ry occasioned the practice to pledge in drinking • « viii. llf 

—— conqurst. on its being too violent to continue .... xi. 54^ 

Dante, the Italian poet, only takes notice of six of the popes <• * • iv. 59 

Dantxick, the small trade of the English thither stated .... iii. 294 

Darling of England, prince Edgar Atheling so named .... ▼>• 99 

Dates dried, a substitute for bread near Jerusalem . - . . . iii. 341 

Davenant, bishop of Salisbury, a nursing father of the English church • ri. 30S 

- - ■ ■-, his argument to prove an heretick - - — 308 

■ ■ , on the civil jurisdiction of ministers • viii. 314 

D'Avenant, his observations on the balance of power .... xii. 5^ 

David, observations on his being appointed and elected king • . . ix. S89 

■, his defence a^aiust Saul investisated and considered . . — 327 
-, some account of the nature and necessity of his guard • • — S5^ 
———, his situation at Keilah, with his danger, considered ... — 357 
Davidis, Frauciscus, the manner of his beini{ associated with Socinus • vi. 36$ 
Davirs, his pretended ig' for refusing the oath of abjuration ■ iii. 61 
Davrbney, William, his bfing beheaded for Warheck's rebellion - >• xi. 404 
, lord Giles, rhninbcrlain and lieutenant general - . - — 4«1 

■ , maiche* agaiust the Cornish rebels . . . «« 424 

• , is taken priHoner, and afterwards released - - — 426 

— , invests the sanctuary at Bewdley ... — 439 

Day Fatality, a curious statement of lucky and unlucky days > • viii. 300 

monkish rhymes upon them ..... — jiQj 

Days, which liavr been fat^I, a particular account of - • • • — 305 

Deucon, John, his account of James Naylnr, the qoaker of Biistol • vi. 424 

Dead, a voice from the state of, thf oration of Hoetius to the emperor viii. 5ST 

Dealing, the dnuble one of St. Paul, the tricking constable - . . xii. 14 

Dean, an admiral under the parliament ---■*•• xi. 11 

Death, the terrible and deserved one of Francis Rauiiliack for regicide iii. I09 

- ■ of km;; William at Roan in Normandy ..... — i^ 

— . the manner in which his body was afterwards treated • . — 16I 

bed, the precepts of Walter earl of E-isex to his son when laid on his — 506 

, Gondomar's account of prucutiii;> sir Walter Ilsileigh'd - • — 535 

- ■ of pope AnastHsius II. was <>uddon and unexpected • - • iv. 38 

- of the icin;^ of Bohemia at Lutzen .... . . — igg 

• of the earl of Eisex, an account of -. ---. — 474 

■ Henry VII. stited — 4^3 

■ " - ot cardinal Wolsey at Leirester-abbcy, in his way from York - — 557 

■ of colonel sir Kdward llarwood, with an account of his life - v. J98 

■ of sir Tlioma^Overbury a ceitaiu result ofSon)ers4t*s marriage - — 380 

■ of lord "Northampton , with an account of him .... — 3^ 

of sir Ihoiiias Overburj is investigated • .... — _ 3^ 

"<- - - of Canterlmry insured by S'rafibr«rs fall - . . • - — 55^ 
of the martjuis of VUvile ar Auburn hiils in Wiltshire - - - vi. 24 

- of Anthony Ascham, resident at tlto court of Spain - - - — 035 

— ' and execution of persons f.>riheff, Chidley's discussion on - — 27£ 

■ of Oliver Cromwell, an account of - . . ... ^ii. 28.t 
, on punishtns adultery with it, and propriety of sufh a law - viii. 68 

- ■ of queen Elisabeth susoeods the popi;>li plot against England - — 150 

- fc vcr described as ti»e lieutenant general of it .... — .385 

■ 01 Heury V. at Vincennes -....-.-x. 306 
, sir lohnFenwiek's contemplations on it in prison ..... 393 

of tnide. an clefiy or mourning ejaculation 00 it ... — 331 

and unnatural war of prince John of Avesnnes • - - - xi. p8 

P^ha^katinn of the rabels at Foodray near Lancaster . - . . — 3H5 

Debt of the Dotch to Queen Elisabeth stated > - ... vU. 525 

Debtor, the nmcUief or confining aa insolveat OM . • • . . i^ 460 


Debu, how to discharge the poblick ottts of tht kiagdoa . - . tUU M 

, proposal of « land*Ui for that purpose • • . - ... 15 

Decay of coin aod trade, observations upon it - - • • - ir. 490 

Decass, on his coming to the relief of the island of St. Martin • - ix. 50 

Decemviri, on their unprosperous manaKement of the Roman affairt • — SQC 

Decepliun. intended by cooot Schlick Mgainkt Wenreslaas - . . Tiii. iCs 

Dettmes of the clergy, some account of them suted .... x, 215 

Decks of ships, an improvement of the Egyptians • - • • • vii. lOs 

Declaration of war, and attack of Phil lipsburg i. 75 

, on the examination of tfMltoars, and their &lsitifts • - — 514 

I of Francis Throckmorton, on plot against ^een Elisabeth — > 536 

of the Scottish king in 1585 — 5Sr 

'— .^ of great troubles pretended against the realM by jesnits • ii. 209 

• of Don Sebastian, king of Pertogal. on leaving Paris, Ike. — .199 

— — — .^-— a f«rther one on various snbjeets — 405 

. of sir Walter Raleigh's demeanour and carriage • > iii. SfiB 

■ ■■ of king Jkmes I. oa the subject of lawful sports on saadaya iv. toi 

■— , the con6mrationof it ... — foj 

■ ■ , the blasphemous one of Knlpperdoliiut the anabaptist • - v. S59 

■ of the apprentices and young men or London for peace • •— S9f 

. of the prophet of Monster, with his missionary preachoa - — > 466 

■ of tlie archbishop of Canterbury before hia death ... __ 43^ 

- of kii!g Charles I. renouncing the intention of war - - — 555 
. on the subject of Irish papists. ^. • — 536 

- of the protector against the Stuart family and church of England vi. 460 
-»— - of king Charles IT. at Breda in the Netherlands ... viii. 518 

■ of James 11. explained and illustrated • - • • x. \S^ 

of the marquis of Montrose - - xi. 4dO 

Decrees ofRomish church against hereticks ---••• i. 30 

and edicts ef Lewis X TIT. respecting Francis Rauilliack - iii. lit 

Dedication ef the English hermit, Roger Crab, to Mr. Oodbold of Uxbridge vi. 39s 

' of a curious treatise on the gout x. 40^ 

Deeds, on tht-ir beinc registered in counties, Philpot's reasons . . vii. 468 

—— — , the lion. Wm. Pierrepoint's reasons sgainst registering deeds - — 493 

Defacinc monuments of superstition and idolatry commanded . • t. 441 

Defeat of the French in the narrow seas by the English fleet ... iii. 517 

-■ of the enemies of Henry III. in Norrnandy, iiz. ... — 54^ 

of Walstein t-y the king of Sweden's forces Iv. 183 

of the French by king Edward 111. ...... riii. 107 

■■■ — Gonsalvo ... .-..»« 5^5 

■ ■ ■ of Philip of Macedon by the Romans -.--.. — jjq 

of lord Torrington lu Ireland, by the French fleet - - • x. 557 

Defence of our roantry. an exhortation to Kngli&hmen for it ... ii. 85 

—^— of king Jam«-s, and pieservation from Cowrie's conspiracy • — .144 

of England, Ueclaration of Esiex*? fjhost on it .... iij. 511 

of Weruerus on Germans beine eligible to the popedom • - iv. t6 

of tlie city of Gloucester by colonel Masscy, the governor - - vi. 2t 

—^ of the conduct of the army in refusini; to disband . • . — 6€ 

——,the gallant one of the town of Haddington suted « • • x. 318 

-■ , -.- of Newhaven by the earl of Warwick . - — 321 

of London against the Cornish rebels under Warbeck - . xi. 42C 

. the galUnt one. of Norham castle by the bishop of Durham - — 438 

Dcfioitiou of i;reatue9S •---•----• iv. 50 

— — ~ of a commonwealth vj,i^ 4^2 

Dfgeaeracy of the Roman soldiers in Britain • - - - - . ii, 446 

Degradation of the CHfl of Goodomar, by Raleigh's ghost ... iii. 53^ 

~. by the inquisition, in what manner perfoimcd . • viii. 4v^ 

Decn es of resistance severally stated ----••..i. 7 

Dfircsn of the kings of France, what it is .---... x. £14 

Delay of the commissiooeis of prijscft to account - . • • xi. 143 

Del«ys of the law, reasons assigned for a bill to prevent them • • — 49 

Delegation, the nature of it illustrated and explNined - - - xii. t4i 

Drlf, appointed to be a staple town for F.nplish cloth .... vii. 524 

Delgades, Pedro, is killed by DomioRO Goosalr-s xi. 514 

Delinquents, on sequestration of their (States .--... — 13^ 

, on ihe sale and appropriation of their lands . . . _ 1^ 

Deliverance of the English church and state, a prayer for - - • ii. 107 

— — — of John Reynard aod »ome olhersfrom the Turks • - iii. 's^ 

■ , he finds means to destroy the warders — 4i 

." of Mustapha from prison, and danger of famishing • • v. 182 

Democracy, the nature of it stated - --i. 45 

Demolition of Haimn castle, subsequent to its siege and surrender • xi. 4?9 

Demostheue% his advice to the people of Athens - - . . . xii. 245 

Denbigh, countess of, her ominous presage to tiir duke of Buckingham's fall v. 321 

, receives a letter from the duke of Buckingham - — ib, 

Deobighshira, the account of an old womaa resident there ... ^iii. 127 

Denmark, colonel Cockran's instructions for negotiation there . . v. 544 

, ft nditioM of lh< ueaty and negotUtioa wiik . ; . - — 541 


rdL Pagt 

Btnmvk, on the inppliei and resources ti can produce • - . . . is. 48f 
- prince George of, is lord high admiral - - — . xi. jg 

DejiTil. sir Gilbert, the reason of his taking up arms - - - . i. gji 

DenuiiciatioQs of Moggleton, on being forced to recant them - • viii. 86 
I>epopaUtioa of the New Forest in Hants by king William sut«d • iii. 151 

Deposinc a popish king in Sweden, observations upon it ... \^^ 2^ 

Deposition of James Weitnis of Bogie on the Gowrie conspiracy - - ii. S46 

_^ of Guido Fiiwkes, respecting the gunpowder plot - . iii. fl 

-.— — — of Thom«s WiDirr. on the subject of the powder plot - . — tS 

of Richard II. from the government of England, reason of - ir. isf 

Depredations 00 trade, how coma<itted by pirates — 4^0 

Deptford, account of ChHrles II.'s arrival thrre from Flanders - - vii. lis 

, an account of a curious she-wedding there * - - - ix. 84 

Deputt«>s from the Netherlands to qaeen Elisabeth . - • . rii. 55t 

Desborottgh. colonel, a description of his character and merits - • Ti. 4go 

Descent or invasion from France considered • . . . . ^ii. it 

Description of Borough castle, anciently the city of Cnober • - • it 381 

, ■ of a British town, as it existed in the time of the Romans — 4g8 

of Caiaue and other places on the coast of Guiana - . iii. i84 

of the various people inhabiting the several provinces - — 185 

■ - of the kingdom of Macaria • - -•.... iv. 389 

of Japan by Francis Coron vii. 5M 

Design of magistracy stated and enforced ^......j^ g 

■ the plot agunst queen Elisabeth - ' - . • . _ <^gg 

— of assassinating Henry of France sUted - • - - • iii. MS 

of the French king against the British town of Rocbel - - — 550 

of the earl of Leicester to marry queen Elisabeth • - • iv. 474 

of Arbeda to counteract and defeat Huntingdon . • 4 — 477 

of parliament to remove the king'a counselloi a - . -v. sgs 

-—— of takiug away the penal laws against catholicks - . . — 5^1 

. and intrigue, natural and habitual to the French * . • viit. 146 

— — — of the French, and their attempts of universal monarchy • . — S5t 
, the original one of the high«commission court • • - • xii. 67 
Designing and drawing recommended in the education of the poor - ri. 144 

Designs of Spain upon England, as communicated to Don Bern. Mendosa ii. 60 

and conquests of the Spartans considered . - . . Tiii. 3J9 

..- of France against England and Holland ... . - ix. 164 

of Jesuits sUi ted in Rush worth's collections .... zli. 6I, 64 

D'Estrees Mons, his doubtful assistance to thr. English ... viii. I4t 

Destruction of the Roman ships causes the British to revolt ' - - ii. 4SS 

■ - of Canalodunum by the British revolters .... — 44Q 

- of Verulamiuro and other towns by the Britons ... — 443 

■ — , the NeUier landers menaced with it • - . . . v. 176 
— of the Englith town of Quabao)^ described ... ^iii. 74 

Detection of the doynges of the Ladle Mane of Scotland, in a letter • i. )8< 

Devereuz, sir Walter, created viscount Hereford and earl of Essex • vi. 7 

Device of Leicester, sir Christopher Hattou's remarks upon it • - iv. 47b 

Devil, on a counterfeit one killed in Germany ..... viii. gg 

•-, not the creator of the gout • x. 39t 

Devils, account of white and black ones, ice ..... — 40^ 

, England sometimes called the isle of xi. 4ttC 

Devotion, observations on ignorance being asserted as the mother of it viii. 2()7 

Diacoaus. Johannes, wrote only of two popes -••••- iv. 55 
Dialogue of Alexander Cooke on pope Juan ...... — g 

on the truth or falsity, titat such a person ever existed . . _ 1 j 

between two foysts, 00 the dexterity of their actions . • — S4<) 

■ between Busy-body and Scrape-all, on their conditions . — 4ig 

lamie and Willie, or the Northern Discoverie . •. 4vf 

- ■ of archbishop Laud and his physicians • ' - * • v. 41 

■ ■ of two London orphans *-'-•-•• tx. 451 
. between the cities of Loudon and Paris ..... x. 494 

- -. - on Matrimony, or, the Levellers .---.. xii. igs 

Dialogues of the ferryman, bargeman, &c viii. 488 

-, farthf r ones on the same subject ... ... — K04 

Diamonds, their value uuknown in Madagascar isle ... - xi. 537 
Diana, the temple of. burnt by Ero^ratus • • - . . . y. IQt 

, allusion to the burning of tlie temple • • - - • - xi. 371 

Diary of tlie siege of Lyxemburgh • .-•... ^ix. 88 

Limsrick -.-•••--.x, 1^7 

Dick Tator.rolooel Pride's learned account of him • • . . viii. .W5 

Dickens, Mr. Guy, English resident at Berlin • • • - • xi. S3f 

Diego, black servant to Domingo G ^nsales. accouut of . • . • _ 51f 
Dieppe, account of Charles II. landing there ...... vi. f5i 

Diet at Worms, called by Ferdinand ..... ..y, 4^^ 

, thf: expediencv of suitable food with Tunbridge waters • . vii. 464 

Dighy, sir Everard, knt. unites with others in the gunpowder-plot . iii. £8 

• , his hoQse at Dunchurcb, a retreat of the conspirators — .ia 

, executed as a traitor la St. Paari church yard • — 4T 

', \9t4, his SfMclkto parltaaeat . • • . j W* 

ma nrtixx. 

I^lf^i lord, hit tpMch, en grierAftcet -••••••▼. 10 

-, G«orge, • portrtitnre and descriptaon of him • • • • .mi. 949 

-, »ir Eveiard, his pfomise of money to carry on the plot • • viii. IdS 

-, B«t«9. Grant. Thomas Wintrr, and other conspirators taken- • — > IM 

, and the oUier aonspirators executed .... ... tSQ 

• ■■. ■- , sir, his being a sworn papist •> •• •-••_ tOf 
-i , sir Kenaim. some account of him - - • • . . » 90$ 

■ ' lord, the impolicy of liis advice - • • • • • xii. 5C 
2>lfgs, sir Dudley, his rtmarlts on se»>ports • ••...«. 4M 
P^ity of a secretary of state seriously considered - • — - t. 109 

■ ' - and antiquity of parhsments stated . . • • • vW. tltf 
Dilheren^s way to happii.ess, aeconnt of it - - • • • • i*» $ 
2>iA(leCu»he, account of Spanish ships lost there - - • • • ii. M 
IXnhani, lord John, treasurer of EoglaBd, masters fbreea at Durham «- jti. M4 
Dinners iu universities at commencement • - • • - - H. €09 
Bio's relation of theisland of Britain • - •.....-. 414 
Pioelesiani therma;, or Dioclesian's baths •..••. xii. 114 
XKoelesian, account of hb severe persecution of Qiriitiaii^ - • • ii. 40K 
Diogenes* his opinion uf the best time to marry • - • • - iii. f6i 
Dionysius, in what manner he used his friends . • • • - is. JOS 
Directory, one of the characters in the Scottish politick presbyter • vi. 81 
■■ ' ■ ■, 00 the detection of the said churacter in the act ofaduttery - '— 89 
Disadvantages of stage-coaches on the public described . . • vili. 90 
Disborough, a quaker, an account of him .--••• irl. 4ST 
Disbursements of the committee of safety stated - ... . - vii. 14T 
Disclosure of the great Bull, an account of it - - . • • - i. 
Discontents, in all ages, and amoogpt all sorts of people • - • lit. 
Discoverie, the Northern one, or the Vox Borealis > - - • - iv. 
Discovery, th e wonderful one of the gunpowder plot - • - - iii. 

— ■ , the surprising incidents and corresponding facts of it - - — 14 

— , the astonishing one by the confession of Ouido Fewkea * —-19 
' -' " ■ , the king's perseverance and conviction alone led to it • >- 90 

• ■ of the t)ishop of Ely, and prevention of his escape • • !▼. 40S 

— ■ of the league between the English and French ...... 509 

-■ ' of plots and Jesuitical intrigues, an account of . • . ▼. lOS 

■■ '■ , the laws, en ors, and abuses in law stated in it > - ' vi. 9f€ 

'• 1- , the ship of that name burnt at Jamaica - - • • . — 587 

1. .-.I I of gunpowder secreted under the parliament'house • • viii. 156 

— of the plot against the king and kingdom ....... 188 

■ ■, letter to the archbishop of Canterbury upon it - ..... 11^ 

, more letters to ditto upon it - - - - - — 1$^ 

Diseourse on the nobility -••-••. •••!{. Mf 

■ on the nature and properties of perfumes .... — SSB 

■ ' i , a curious one on mitmage and wiving • - • • • iii. £Sl 

— of a Fr< nchman on tiie nature of treason stated . . . _ sgg 

*• on Henry, prince o( Wales, descri^Mog his qualities, &c. - — 519 

•'^— ~ on the stHte, and condition ofthe three kingdoms . • . iv. 48J 

— ■ , on the actions of former parliaments - . . - - v. £41 

— , a satyr ical one upon quacks and quackery - • . . riii. 135 

-*■- In a parquet bout upon the subject of a French war - - — 139 

, on the necessity of a war with France . - - - - — 148 

Discourses on Uie modern atfairs of Europe - - ... — S50 

■ the first on publick affairs between a ferryman, A:c. - - — 488 

■ ■■ ■ the second ou the same subject - . - . . - — 504 
Discussion of the nature of apparel or cloathing . - . . . ii. 5/26 

of tliemeausafdiscoveriug genuine authors ... iv. 38 

— on the nature and modes of committiBg treason ... — 4^1 

-i , a very important one on the law of treason - - - . v, 53 

— - ■ on the subject of tht; king's negative in parliament - . vi. lit 
■ on the nature of an othce of publick address ... — ijg 

of the UMture and performance of a covenanter's vow - - — S08 

— on the flux of spirit to support abstinence .... v'u. SSt 

of the history on the authoritative word of imprimatur viii. 89I, 294 

of the nature of ambition - ..--. . — 3^ 

— of the nature of courage .... ...__l 358 

on the DMiurc of the mad parliumcnt ... j - — 4^ 

— on the management of the Loudon orphan fund - - - ix. 451 

-'-t on the subject of the pragmatick sanction - - - • x. 490 

— on the nature of appenagcs .- — 491 

— — on the emhenlemcnt of revenues xi. 140 

Diseases, the nature of those for which Bath waters are good • • iv. lit 

— , what sort may expect relief from Tunbridge waters - . vii. 4ST 

Disguise of a French agent, in the character of a merchant ... viii. 144 

Disgust entertained by Felton against the duke of Buckingham . . v. 319 

Disorders, a conous account of exbtingoues in ail trades ... ij. 527 

♦ of ct urch ministers, act of Elbabcth for reforming . . v. 4OQ 

Dispensatory of London, the design of publbhing iC by autliority - vii. 475 

Disputation on the secular jurisdiction of ministers .... yiii. sio 

DisputatiousofFaustusSocinus, at Zurich stated ••-••¥{, 30C 

Pispwte, aa tccoiiat of Cromwell's viUi pope Alexander VI. ... H(f 

IVDEX. acxxiii 

Dispatrs betnre«o T>«ncaster and York, the oeeuioD of them - - !▼. 477 

li»*eu9ion tiod emul.tiiou, in whiit manner productive of raia of atates ii. 97 

I>Uj«Diers, are greal!j curessed bj thr English cuurt > - •• • iz. 2 

Dis:«utu)g ministers, uii MCtempt to riotiicate them froa re(ieid« - - ▼!. I89 

' , Uieir solemn protestation agaiost the charge - — l^i 

Di«»ertatiou on the naturt: and proppities of beauty . . . • U. 580 

Dissirouliitioii, an accouut of Its operation and eflects . - • . _ 530 

Oisvulutiou of the eitrth in Charn wood forest, with tlie caoae of it - <viii. 828 

Dutaucc of places in Uie vicinitj of Jemsalrm stated - - • • iU. 939 

Districts of Moravia, know it by the name of toparchiea - • - xU flgo 

DistMrbances. bow created bj the popes in England ... • ii. 87 

between Cliarles I. and his qneao, bow fbmeotad - - aii. 57 

DiversioQ, hunting affevou rite ene of ibepiiaca of Orange • • • s. M9 

Divartiuii^ Post, a paper so culled . ..*•.-. zi, 2{| 

Divine Instil uiiun ot monarchy stated •--•-•• ix. M-ft 

i^iviairs, character ot' the asseablj of them inrettigeted - * - ▼.37 

Division our destruction, an essay to prove • . . - • • ,x, M3 

— - , the study of tite French fitctioa to excite in England - * — 538 

Divorce from qunen Ca'Jianne, narrative of the proceedtags oa - • iv. 588 

, the countess of Essex's schemes to procnre one - - • ▼. J©f 

— — her complaiat to effect one • • • vL 9 

Doctor of divinity, bis strange oooitship and owrriage ... aU. gos 
Doctrine. &c. of Garnet, thejesuit ..-•.•.•i«39 

Dectnaes of anabaptists, denying the baptism of cbildrea • - - ▼. 855 

— — ^* and absurd practices ot many of them stated . • • — 955 

Dogm Englaud some times called the isle of > • • - • > si. 488 

— — , the isleof, a dissertation upon it • - ii. 891 

DooBesday-day-book. tlie nature of it stated, and lor what pvrpotet made iii<§[153 

Domtjront, a curious anrcdoie of tl>e osrate there . . ^ . vii. 393 

Pomingo, St. narrative of tiMi English proceedings' in the isle of • - vi. 379 

Dominican friars, tueir artful policy ...*... %iii. 99 

Domitiau, -the rmpcror, his envy at Agridola's soccese in Britaia • . iL 457 

Domitius. some account of hts sudden death • - • - > vi. 398 

buucaster, account ot cardinal Wolsey's coming thitber ... ir. 551 

Dnoui of protectants in the times of popery ...... t, 36 

Uoirnick or Doorowick, alias Tliomtown, some accooDt of . • - ai. lid 
U'orleaos. See Orleans 

Dorchester, the king's forces attacked there by colonel Middleton • vi. Si 

Dorset, marquis of, his sou at Magdalen coUegA school •> • • iv. 490 

, Cuttins a native of, promoted for his merit - • • . xi. 16 

Dorsetshire, on the very heavjT oppre%stons experienced there - • v. 89 

Douay taken from Spain in l(jo7 by Lewis king of trance - - • xi. 130 

Dover, account of Charles II landing there on his restoration • - Vit. Ill 

, sir Waller Kaleijl)'* discourse on it as a sea-port - • • x. 434 

, the security, convenieuce, and utility of it stated . . - — 436 

■ cajttle, on Ferkin Warbeck's coming against it .... xi. 412 
Dowdat I, archbishop of Armagh, his censure of the English service - viii. 541 

, recalled by queen Mary ... — 54s 

Downing, sir Oeorjie, his recai from Holland •.-•-.ix. 6 

Dragon, an acconut of our. or some otlier strange monster in Susses . iii. 687 

Dragons, ou the character aud description of ilying ones - • - ▼. 437 

DruAtt, sir Francis, the Spiint^li ami Enijlish account of bis conduct • ii. 188 

,accuuntui his disabling several Spanish sliipt • • ^ — 155 

•■ ' failme against Panama - - - ix. 487 

and Kaleijth's ghosts, or effusions of ioyaltv ... - xi. 88 

— - ■■ , (he ghost of, his speech, or Newafor England .... -~ 85 

■ , on Kngliind's trade to the new world • . - — 84 

-—^■». nir Francis, brought tiie seed of tobacco to England - - xii. 89 

Drama of the Scottish poliiick presbyter, liturgy a character in it * vi. 81 

, anarchy a character lu the iscoitish politick presbyter . • — 88 

' ■ - , money leM. anuilicr character in ditto . . . - — 8S 

, a consistory of prestiyiers in It .-...--— 85 

DraAio?. cecumnieiuied as an accomplishment to yonth ... «i« 144 

iiiaykoi, Mrs, Alice, the manner of ber being poisoned • . - iv. 474 

Diiisikirchen or Traskirchen in Germany «lesciibed • . . . xl. 851 

DraMrbacii on goods exported, remarks on superseding it • • • xU. 855 

Dream, account of oue of Ariotie, the skinnar's daurl|ter ... iii. II9 

, the account of ibe sultan Achmet's about Mttstapha - . . v. 184 

■ , a winter onedescnbed at luige ..•..-.xi. 478 

, the -description of the dreamer's awaking from it - -* - — 488 

———, of O^man. tlie grand seiguor of Turkey, and others . • . ._ 494 

Dreams, a curious account of the manner how they are genefated • ii> 317 

Drrsdep, a description of it by Euglish travellers • . . . - xi. 381 

Dire^s, ,«n estimate of the expeuces of it • * • • • • • iii. 656 

Drewde, Robert, the arraignment and trial of him . - . • • — -58 

iDrewry, sir Drew, &:c. the persecution of ....-- iv. 4I7T 

Drink, the nature of what is u<ked in 8eotJaad ..... ^. 444 

Drinking chocolate, Mr., Gage's account of it ••«..« xii. 88 

Jtroitwlch, some letters irem U.ce^«d . • . j> ^ • • 4r« .58|| 



Promedary, a cl«»rTiption « f one ...•-.- • hi. 3KJ 

Druusiey, ur. MccdliaruN rerominrndiition of ridei*btiTir« for • • xU. SS 

Drovrri.ob^nrattons Oil tlirtr duty ----...-vl. J€J 

Diutdt, the ch«ii<cter of them reprrtuntpd a«d ditplajrd - • • H. 499 

Drum. objwrvatiOD'^ on Zisca't tkin beinv onuverted into on« - - vil. 410 

Onimmond, lieutenant geoarftl, his impriaonm^ot • • • - - x. tS5 

Drunkards, a aatyr upon thrm. a represeotittioo of Bacrhut Beunti« - U. fl64 

■ ■ , tatjncal remarks upon ilie condn<>l of thein • •' • iii* 654 

— ', tlie ka} logs of various wise men about tbem . . . -~ 555 

, » cnrioua address to Ibam ix. 94 

DrunkeniieM, a most curious mid ironical defence of it - - - > ii. Sfit 

■ , the dtftnitionsof Galen and others concemiog It • * iii* A5B 

■ ■ , irs derided condemnntioD . • - . . . vi. 74 

Duaren, the nature of his tektimony upon ancient MSertioBS • . • W. 45 

Dublin, the trensonof iu citixcos iles<Tib<d • ->•••▼. T5 

•''——, the earl of Glamoritaa confined in the castle there - . • «» 500 

, Browne, archlnshop of, his letters, Ace. .... viii. 5S4, 5>1T 

■ «' , title of ha pi ioMcy revoked ... — 549 

, queen Mary's letMr to th«s rity of •..-..— 544 

'—— — bay, attack upon the French ships in it x. 556 

Dudli-y ca»tle. curious account of a rhild born there - -••!▼. 475 

— — >• — and Rmpson, in whet aenner tliey enhanced EiisaU>eth*s reign • v. 35 

Duellint, entirely discarded ns mean and vulgar by the French - • vili. 996 

Dugdale. his copious preface to the narrative of Gontlamore's plots - — tSt 

, his account of popish crurlties against protestauts • . — 414 

Duke Humphrey, the nature of his ordinary considered • . - iii. 79 

Dnmbartou castle converted hito a prison - • • • • • x. SS5 

, an account of its state after the ioTasioD • - -. xi> 79 

. ■ . -. another scrount of the same stated • - - • — 76 

DumferliiMt, lord, is refused christian burial, with the reason ' • x. S78 

Dunct-'s directory, or. an arademy for quacks, &c. - - • • viii. 199 

Dunchurch, a place to which the guufiowder conspirators fled - - liL 99 

Duodas. his treacherous stie 01 Isoiubunh castle .... rb. IBl 

Dungeon, account of T-veius's r«le«w; Irom one • • - - - ii. 405 

Dunkirk, the heavy expeuceaud incumbrance of it to England > • viii. 999 

■ ■, to be possessed by the Bogiikh. by treaty with FraiKe - - x. 409 

■ besieged hy sir Thomas Moiaan and marshal Turenne ..... 411 

— - — is surrendered to the united forces of EuglMad and France > — 417 
■■ ■ ■ , observations on tlic %a»t loriifications of France there .... 440 

■■'-, a trip to. or a summary Nccount of • • • • • • xl. 60 

■ ■ , a desanption of it -— 170 

, account of nuns in the FnttHsb cloister there . . • . — 177 

■ , the maoner of bnryiag the dead tlx-re > ...... 17s 

, on exposing the host or water there ••...... 179 

Duakirkers. h«w blamed tor the injury dene to trnde of Tarmoulb - ii. 901 

, in what manner inimicul to Nashe's Ijenten stuff - - — 9SS 

Duplicity of MHnoury. a Frenchiuan, r^iatixe to sir Waiter Raleigh > iii. 981 

- • • tlie princess 01 Parma wgjinsi the NftheilHuders - « - v. 176 

■ ' in icmporisiogwilh Uiem - . - .- mo 

— ~. ■ , the infernal con«<uct of the viscount Hochister ..... syg 

, tht; iufaiiujus, of urince Charles of L^chsteust^io • . viii. 46l 

■ ot the t-Veochexrmplified ....... xi. 19g 

Duppa. a ridicule of him .-.-y. 94t 

Purundus, on the fact of the Roman priests being shaven • . • iv. 31 

Durham, account of Robert Cummins beimr desiioyed there • • ia. 4tit 

Dnry's case ot rouscicure iititrd and resolved • - . • - vi. 439 

Dutch defeated neiirCalHis bv ailmiiiti BUke .•••.. — gft) 

——, tlie pu Ht arlvaitagc* ol th'ir fishing staled ..... ^ji. 403 

■ lisurpMtion. Wiliiain dr Britaioe*s iiistorv of .... — 4g| 

. their entire and exclusive mooopuly of the spice trade • • — 5f9 

. their infMmous evasion to |my the l^uglish troops ..... ^^ 

, their acknowledsemrnt by foreigners »f tteiua tree states .... stb 

, account of their execrable conduct in the K«st Indies ...... 590 

• scandalous treachery at Poloroone ..... jjg 

, thci; exclusion of othrr nMtious from the l%asl India trade . . — 534 
, their bold and daring vtolatioDS of ueutiaiity ...... 535 

, their insiduous iometitiog the English disturbances in l64i - — &97 

, their artful design to betray Charles II. to his enemies • . — 538 

, their unwarrantable I ibf'rties upon the British seas ..... 340 

, their infrmal policy to deceive the cautious Japanese .... ^ 

, an account of a malicious edict issued by tbem ...... 595 

, an eocouiagement to resist their scandalous encroachments . — dd6 

, their tortures and punishments on the English at Amboyna - ~— 56i 

■ - fleet attacked by sir Thomas Allen, on iu return from Smyrna viii. jfC 

, the insults and alrucities committed by Uiem stated • • - ix. 1 
— ... fleet is opposed by sir Robert Holmes ..... ...g 

at Batavta, give assistance to the Tubanitet - ..... 4^ 

->—., account of thei^manntacture of sugar • - . . - -• 4St 

their custom of bttrniAg all superflooat spieei • • • • — 191 


Dutrh boon, a detcription of them . . - • . 
, their alUrk or the English ship* off Leghorn 

, M sttniUr impaiient attack by their shius off Dover 

• , CD the little services rendered to England by them 

, the great assieunce rendered them by the English 

sailor, a minute detail of the miterable safferings of 

• protext^nts, on their being encouraaed in England 

Daiton and Wilks, in what manner treated ny presbyteriana' 
Duty of a parliament man described and displayed 

•>, articles of food which are charged with it ia Erance 

Dyeing, in what manner the Bath waters hav0 this efftct 











— . 















Earls, the orlglual change of andeatoaes on their creation • . . v. 

Berth, the dissolution of it in Leicestershire, with tne caose ' • viii. 

Earthqaake in England, an account of one - -•>••• ili. iQf 

• ■■■ , on what accounts deemed ominous - - - • - ▼. 101 

— , account of a dreadful one in Sicily - - - - - x. 187 

, the destruction of Noto, Sec. by one • « - - - — igi 

, Lentini and Augusta destroyed by it • . - , — jgj 

— — .effects of it at Specafurno in Sicily - - - . . — ipj 

, the partial destruction of Bomochin by it - - . - — ly^ 

, Chiaromonte Mod Viasini destroyed by one - . - — 195 

, Carlontini and other nlaces are destroyed by it - • • — 195 

■ ■■ , Scichilo and Scodia, a araage done by it there . . . _ 19^ 
Easement, the stool of, in what manner nsed at a popeS election • - iv. 17 
East India trade, the nature of it considered • - • • - iii. tgS 

indies, hew they contiibute to the increase of trade . . - .^ 996 

India ships, obserrationsrelatire to the size of them . • . .. sgB 

— company, reflections upon them as monopolisers - . . .« 31s 

Indies, on the TilUioies of Uie Dutch there vii. 5.10 

, estimated loss incurred by the Dutch cruelties • .... fiSl 

, the key of the Chma seas secured by the Dutch - - - _ 534 

, Dutch arts to exclude all nations from the trade . . - — 534 

•^ , Oondaniore's opinion ot the nature of the trade to it • viii. £41 

Easter, on being usually kept by the court at Winchester • . . iii. 255 

Eater, Marriot. of Qray*sinn. an enonnousone - • - - • vL 39< 

Ebelus, a stone no called, with the use of it xi. 5SC 

Ecclesiastical court, the bishop of Rochester's letter to the lords of • i. 31S 

Ecrleniasticks, popish ones, ou the expediency of castrating them - • x. 445 

Ecrlyii, major general, his regiment stationed in Scotland • - • xi. 71 

Edgar Ath( ling, ou his havioit neither age nor authority . . • jji. 134 

. rallfd the (iMrliuK of Epglaad - - - - - vi. 99 

' , for what ctuses said to be disliked by the people • - ix. 345 

— — . how »npir5e'1ed by the u8UT)ter Harold - - . - — 457 

Edjsecumb. mount, in 1>«von»hire, account of its surrender - • • ▼, 56S 

Edgehill, on the kingS forces, and the battle there • • • • ▼!• 15 

~ ■ . the lord Aubigny slwiu in the battle of - . - • - — ij- 

Edict of Mxntrs, If ttem patent upon it • •> • • • - • iii. 114 

Edicts and decrees on Lewis XIII — 112 

Edinburgh castle, on Koth wen being governor there • • - iv. 439 

1 . on its being treasouably sold by Dundas - - • vli. 5281 

— — — — , an inl'-restinc description of it - - - ..-— 43§ 

■ , one of Pride's fantoiis brewhouses there • . • • viii. 384 

' on persons declared as incapable of trust in it • > - x. 5234 
~— , account of lord Cardross being imprisoned at • • • — £35 

■ , the earl of Leven's letter from it - - - • • xi. 69 

Edmond. brother to Edward III. in what manner executed • • • i. 91 

Eilmuiidsbuiy. St. Henry III. king of England died there - - * • x. fi04 

Education of archbishop Laud and cardiul Wolsey considered • - iv. 408 

— — ^— youth considered at large by W. P. - • - • vi. 141 

— ^— — — the poor, obserrations respecting its utility- . . . _ 144 

— —: , a college for, and how to be supplied • - . — 148 

-> the prrtended prince of Wales stated . . • • . x. £82 

■ ■ . the faults of it elucidated and declared «... xii. 199 

Edward, St. or Coufessor, and Edwin are expelled from England • - iii. 168 

•*. , pledges for his safety demanded by bis onde iii. l£9 

■ ■ promises the English kingdom to his und^ . .^ |fr. 

-—^ , on the bishop of London's confirming the privUegM 

of the city - -- iii. 1S9 

— — ——, the ghost ef him vi. 90 

. . ■, gave England to William of Nonnandy «... 100 

-, apffppoialforrevivio|bitUwf • • « •» 10$ 

VXXfl THl^CX. 

Uwvd.St. orConfeMor, lonui-aceovntof hisexrellaatlavi • • • vi. StS 

— - — « , Mccount •# til* f0lkin«(« ©f • • • wi. 90 

' ', hUf^imrtbe >uo c — l i oo to Willfaun L • • U. 34S 

— ■ -■ ■ . BD accovBt vf hi> happf reiga - - . - — 4S7 
Edv*ff>d. I. au necouBt of h t radncwn W«le« to Us coTtnuBMit • - s* fl^A 
•— ^-— II. kin« of eaglMMi.«ro0«»t «niM life L 9* 

■ VnirfFM haoKed f»r « •'•ndiaf lo tlMcrova io hit nifk - — (B 

— !■■ " hit rula occatlonr^ by his lacfaargte 4i*pontioa • - • ir. Mf 
■ « ■ - ■, thr conduei of tlM seotCiMis lonkt* cc. aAauMt km • viU. #f5 

> , Mortimer's sdvicp t« put hira to il««th frimiUJjr • • i. IfS 

— ,«n aocoantof hbdinolttlelift 4escrike4 - • - - Jb 4|§ 

• -~ I II. i» elected king by the psriisneut in hb fiither't lifelia* • I. ISO 

, sccountof his dcfestofthe trsDch .... - ^lii. 107 

, his seirare of the e«rl of March •••••- x. igS 

■ * . king of England, his visit to Mons - • • - • xi. f9 

, the Black prince, an account of his wart in S|inin • • • ii. lOS 

■ ■ — -^ life and death - - ^L Jtfl 

■ , ■ , ftrst goes to France in his youth ... — 154 

«■ -, .■ ■ , accoaot of his reccpUon at Ply piowth • . _ 1^4 

, , sBoedily restores the Uog of OaMlle . . — fjf^ 

■ ■ I , , Ms message to tin kiag of Vjnuiee • . .-. ^^ 

* ■ , , account of his deedti tt Guifearlrary .... ly^ 

■ ■ IV. repudiates Elinor Talbot • • --•••» M5 

, M account of theoecaiieucee of his reign -^ -■>-«• iOf 
, b upbraided hjf the duke of BuxfuudY ' - • • sE. t% 

■ ~, an eecount of hb interview witiiXnrls XI. - • -> • — IS 

■ , eardinnl d« Bourbon proposed es hb Goafeseor - - • — 1# 
-, befriends the duke of Briteny ---.. ••..-.0, 

* V. acconnt of hb short fuigp -••••. jr. 909 

VI. hb letter in behdfef^a«|jHWHIottcl>bj • - iU. ^ 

^ " ■ >n account of hb reign - • - • ---x. Sif 

SdwtemndEdvard expelled by Ceautut out of Eeglaad • IH. MB 

Effects of fine doaths, their pemicioas teadeary eUrted • ' - vEL 94 

iKngheni, lord, seme aecooat of him - ....v. lit 

Eggloston, his libd on the dake of BnokinchaMa — 910 

EgKs, in what msoner they are charged with duty ia Frsace - - - a. tt3 

E^isham, doctor, on the poisoning king Jaaici • - . • • v. fli 

Egypt, on Che manner of hatching chickens there in oveas • • • Hi. lt# 

acquainted with shit'|Ang befoce the Oreciaat .... ^. j^g 

Sgypllau killed by Moses, the ruse of it considered - • - - ia. 108 
Egyptians, the first who added decks to shipe - - • • • n^ ]0s 

- ' - ' -, s description of their boats .... .. •._. f^g 

■* ■ ■ , thrir plagues transferred to Scotland - - •,•..— 4$$ 
Ehud's dagger, on employing it against a tyrant - - • - - ia* fl9B 
EldeHiemes. Dr. Keedham's opinion of them against dropiles • • xiL SS 
Elect among the arm Tde9cril>ed, and who meant by them •..«*. 189 
Elected, on the popes being admitted at varions ages • • - ir. Tl 

- , the various ye»rs. as differently stated, of being so - - — $1 

ElectioD.sayiog of a rardinal on Oregory's to be pope .... — 45 
Electors Palstiae, « circumstantiHl account of • • . - - — iflS 

. Rudolph I. - - — 1^9 

•— Rudolph ir. and Rupert I and IT* - . - . — 293 

■ Rupert III. • ^ 101 

'— of parliament men, reasons offered le them ... ^m, f^n 

Elegy on the death of trade ... . ••-••x. tfl 

Eleutherius, bishop of Rome, a letter fiom to Locios, king ef Britain - ii« ' 400 
ElfJegns, arrhbishop. lost his head by the Danes • • ... v. 4^9 
EKsabeth, the manner in which she obstructed oniversal monarchy - i. 34 

•«-, que«>n nf England, on arming her subjects in ]56€ . • - .- 3^4 

, the trmson aizainst her by Fnincis Throckmorton - — flfft 

, «n act for protecting her person ftrom injorr - - ii. T 

, falsely charged with executing people for religion - — 9f 

- - ■ , inimical to foreicners for her reform of reliiHoa - ~. 90 

■ ■ — ■ , the retontiation of religion renders tiic pope hestMa ' — 149 

■ ■ , arcount of trewtoos hatching abroad against her • — 17t 

' , intimation of the most dreadful treason against - — Jf4 

, Issut-s a prosUmation against seminary priests • - ... g09 

• , a sprrch of hers in partiament on Spanish invasioa • — fdt 

— «■ , her speech to her last parliament .•.-.. jgg 

reforms the base money of her reiga . • -> . -.- ^ 

, the bull of pope Pius Qnintusagaiast her • - - iii. 9t9 

, her answer to the thundering bull of pope Pius Qolatas ~- fil4 

.the treason of William Parry against aer . . . -» 5t9 

■ , Ibarra's plot and Dr. Lopes*s and other designs agahott — 919 

, the traitors to her pensioned by the Speabh kiaf - -» 045 

, in what manner and by whom tier reign was extolled ^» SS 

, a particular and minute deserlption bfher ■ • -> • — > 191 

.— — , not the fevourer of the earl of Leicester eoly * . *« iff 

-, Leieetter, the eari of. aiaeter of tke lienata her »- tSf 

■i» , the carl of Sastex lord chaaibariaitt to her ^ * - — 199 


EKubeth, qu«»n» in what manner Uic took care of her anbjecu • - ▼. soi 

, pnaccM. married to the Palscrave - - ---•.— SOi 

, qatgn of England, send* aaawfamce to theDwteh • • vii. MS 

— — — — , Ik)w the retbted the king of Spoin - - — 5QJ 

— » the DttUh supplicate her atsiatamo • - — 50§ 

, the Dutch foiMthilDcas and tngraiilodo — A66 

i how h«r doMh procrastinittea ct>Btpiracy viii. IM 

■ - — » an act of parliament to presrrre her - - — 0)7 

, honour of pariiaaenU in her reign - - — Ma 

, how >he rottsed her ■ubjecta - - - ii. 491 

, an epitomised account of her reign • • ». MO 

■ , an arcnnnt of her deatfi at Richmond • — 3M 

— — . net of the «7th of, what made treatoii - — 46S 

I an aorount of her court and ministry - xi. ^ 

renders assistance to the autes of UoHaad — 149 

— ^— — — • ^» how she curtailed Ely btshoprick • - xii. 60 

EIHs'snarratieeof Perkins and others on cock -flghtihg .... ^ii. (5 

Eliwis, sir Jarvis, heutenaut orthetower, speoahofbis^ost • • iii. 169 

Elwayes. or Telvis, account of his execution on Tower bill * • • vi* 9 

Ely, bishop of, an account of his pride Mod tyranny • > • • Mr. 469 

a discoTcry ma<te of his attempting to esc^ie - - . — <^ 

pnjs a riiit to the countess of Denbigh • - • ip. 9ti 

' ' '• f hancellor of England .---•-- »4i, 14 

, bishoprick of, Imw curtailed by aneen Elisabeth • - . • •« 69 

Embaaaies, account of, to various continental co«rta • • - - v. 9S§ 

Embassy of the earl of Nottinglwm to Spain • - • • . il. MS 

of Cornelius Haga from th* I>«td) to Constantiaopio - - iii. 919 

of cardinal Wolaey to the emperor Chart ea V. - • . i^. 499 

, account of the duke of Buckmgham'a to Holl— d • • . v. ais 

■ ia declined by sir Thomas Overbury, which afiscta kif nda • — 97S 
Bmbealement of reveuues, an aceottut of it ••-«•<> si. M0 

■ ■ of treasure, a statement of -----.—. 14^ 

Bnblera. Vaoa the true one of a Jesuit . • . • • ^. S0§ 

Zmms, Dr. his proposed resurrection in BnahMll-fields • - • « xi. • it 

^ ■ , preparations to be made for witnesaing it • • • . «» 8§ 

■■ ■ , the failure of the resurrertion, an account of • - ... #4 

» reasons assiRned by Lacy for tho Aulnre • . • • .. 69 

Smperor, a letter of Leopold's to king James II. at St. 0«rmids*» - • i. 19 

——, an epistle to him from Henry Till, king of England - . — . gg^ 

. , Charles V. account of hia enteritrise against Algiers - • — fji 

, DomiUan. his envy at Arricola's good fortune - - • ii. 40f 

, Adrian defeats the Caledonians, and stamp on hl$ coia - — ' 46^ 

<———, pope Gregory'a letter to him - ------ iii. dOfl 

- Alexander Ill's insolence to hiro - - . - • iv. 49 
, on his Investiture of bishop Waitram ----.«.»5^ 

, on cardinal Wolsey's quick embassy to Mm • . • • — 4g| 

—— second embassy to him --•.-. 4M 

■ of the Turks, Achmet is elected tobc -- -• ▼. |8§ 

■ hb dream about Mnstapba - - •- 114 

his rereptir>n of Mnstapba • . • — 194 

— — — — Mostapha is proclaimed .--.-— ig^ 

.. Hberated and again proclaimod — 199 

, the concessions of him to ti>e Hungarian protestaatt - - viii. 511 

, the titles of Charles VI . enumerated . • • . • xi. S7# 

-^ of Oermany, tlie authority or Ureely stated - - - . — gy^ 

- Adrian, an account of his mausoleum . • - • . di. ^ 

Emperors, Volaterran*s observation on their powers - • - - i v, 5f 

Empire, on pope Leo's reo^oving the seat of it, by Mlcbnol Cocceiva - iii. 499 

, on the duke of Bavaria's diaaffection to it - - . • viti. 189 

, on the extended one and dominion of ITrance . . • . i_ 994 

•———, the electorate of Bavaria always danserous to it - - • xi. 186 

Empiricks, in what manner to be counteracted • - . • • Tit. 479 
Kmporina for English rebels, an account of -•- .•-_ 53^ 

Empson and Dudley, how they enhanced the reign of Elisabeth • • ▼. 35 

Encierro, or Spaniahbnll-baiting* an account of . - . • • ix. 04 

Encooragenient of the fishing trade, its importance to England • - viii. 17 

■ poor, the best means of, by employing them - —59 
Jbiemles, the Groaowajea ought so to h« declared . • . « _ 924 

•—- , the impolicy and danger of treating them rontemptuoosly • — 559 

Bafield chace, Catesby and Fawkea at White-Webbes near it • • iii. 28 

Bngland, a nuncio from the pope received in by king James II. - i. 10 

■ , the plots of Jesuits to brin^ it quietly to the Komish religion — 34 

'> ■ ■ ■, the present state of it considered and discussed • • — 41 

*- ■, the excellence of its government described and illustrated • -.44 

*- ■, the manceuvres uractised to make men hostile to government of — 51 

— , the mischiefs or which such mangunes are productive . . _ 5g 
f ■ ■■ , Boldock, a man of no birth, drc. ma>le lord chancellor of ... ]o6 

» I , Mortimer returns with the queen of, from France to • — Hi 

«"^ 1— > Spanub nnnadt fcat to Bwk« an invauoa »poa it • - - ii. 49 


— , ibv (bvEAivdi prtijiBcCml auil di^aignr^ to ifduie utotU 
— , UlB eca''»l dulurbiincM cr»1*d toj iIib popc4 in it 

, iU in'Mloiitil H»rfi*M,_fciinof Niir»i 

.UiirDfianlUilli} ibt kinf otSvxli: 

■ it>> «r«>d BiMisw ofiu •ianlDf wb 

^^ ^1 the prvptiaj cif Lit Abf^pprUvi th« K» 
■ , « rorewttTQIUg Ka it ta v^cb ■.fjjntl 1^ 

— IM 

"-, priatjiixlBtRfduce(iii.tDit by WilLuin t 

irf H r. Wil itilillurliDii ou hliigturii u 
■I inuiiicriiMscUillif Pinitli IhvIjibh 

—4 Dia Ujtinvjiu flf impiatliiBLuaikauriicliitu 

— M 

E is 



£aitl«nd, Gondamore*! account of other iatrigaing designs • . via. ihS 

——.thrpopt's authority in it discarded - 304 

— — — , observiitiooi on the study of its laws ..... §jy 

. ou the uoverninent of Fratice being afraid of - - . . .^ ^44) 

, 00 tlie league of Holland with it ------^ J43 

. on the uature aud qudificitions of its soldiers • . - -_ 343 

, tlii^ strength of It consists in its yeomanry .... — 349 

-. the imporiaDce of Tau^^ier to it -..-,. ^pg 

■ , Dunkirk in wiiat I espccis an incumbrance to it ... 3^19 

, an intercps^iou. or litany for it .---.. 44^ 

————, Ui« kuig of, IS disgusted uiih the Hollaj\ders ' • • - ix. 5 

~* '■ ■■ — — , is ill whiii of money '.....-..(^ 

- — . the ilesigns of th^ kiog of Fr-ince against it .... jg^ 

f the pr.>ttstaot religion iiicorpoiated with government . . — _ gn 

. by whiit means its constitution is dissolved . . . • _ 2k'i 

f the prn e of Or«uge's expedition to it ..... ju 

, the churcii of, its answer to the pope's letter .... £4^ 

, account of the succession of iu crown . - . . , 248 

-— , Tefferies becomes the cliaocelljr of --.--.-« 30^ 

, a Jesuit's letter from it to Brussels .--.-._ 391 

, the great advantage of colonies to it - - - - - . — 427 . 

— ——. the calamities of it dibcovered - - • - • • x. g64 
-" t on the wars between it and France .-.--.— 284 

., Mew, on the impolicy of fixing a nominal value on cola • — 380 

— — , Simoo Islip's, the first printing press in it - . - . _» 5^5 

, on the prince of Orange's monntiug the throne of . - - — 553 

, mischievous practices of a factious party in it - . - - — 535 

, on the prince of Orange's landing in it ----- 54^ 

•"— ■-, the importance of Muhon to it as a naval port * • • xi. 6 

- -•, an account of the port of Mubon, w a station for ... (|r 

■ -f News for it, or the animating speech of Drake's ghost ^ . «- 33 
— , account of money raised in it for I9 years • . . . , ..^ j^ 

— ■ -, another account of money raised for i8 years ... — 101 
— " — , on its preservins Uie balance of power -.-•-—. ihq 

, Gerald ine, on his being lord chancellor of > - - . — 377 

— lord John Dinham is treasurer of------ — 424 

~ -. a description of its state and condition ..--.-_ 47^ 

~- , 00 Uie various names it has had at various times ... — 4^2 

— — — , the duke of Burgundy is in hlliaore with ----- xii. 9 

, the kiuff of, is honoured with a nickname - • - . -_ 13 

— — — , chancellor of, the bishop of Ely is appointed • - - - — jg 
, the French pensioners in it paid by mons. Clerct ... — ig 

■■-, sir Francis Drake broaiebt tobacco seed to it • - - - — 89 

■ , on the encouragemcni afforded to the Walloons . - • _ 5^ 

■ -, the great resort of iesuits to it — 60 

-, account of its revolutions, &c. by d'Orleans - - . • xii. 6g 

— tha parliament of, described by Mr. May . . . . .^ (jg 
English, the life of the students of that nsti-n at Rome . - • ii. 167 

f—~ Koman college, the sanctified candles sent to at Candlemas • — 175 

— , an account of their clergy, designed to be hanged. See, - — ijf 

■ seminary or college of je&uits at Rome, the orders for it . - — 179 
— - students, the addcess of cardinal Morone to them ... — goo 

, the bauisliment of them from Rome, and recai . - _ 203 

, an account of the various popish attempts to convert them - — 811 

aud Scotch herrings, an humo irous distinction of tliero - - _ 332 

■ hbtory durinelhe government of England by the liomana - — 411 

——, by sir Thomas More, the character of it ... — 412 

, parliament, king James I. 's speech to it -..---. 334 

sailoi, punishment of one at the Groyne for miscondoct . - — 543 

, pledges demanded of, for safety of Edward - - • • iii. I89 

— — ^ crown is promued to William duke of Normandy by Edward - — i6, 
, the title of William to it discossed .... — 432 

', on their being dissatisfied with Harold's usurpation • • — > 134 

■ , on their being routed by duke William at Hastings . — ■ 144 
', the oppressed refuKees of, received by the king of Scotland - — 147 

—— , castles erected by king William the Conqueror to overawe them — 150 

■, fair promises are made to them by William Rufus . . . .— 134 

, observations on the nature of their trade to Bourdeaux • • .. 293 

■ , some considerations on their trade to Hambarf{h . - . _ 294 

, remarks on their trade to Iceland and Newfoundland - • — 895 
, estimate of the number of their mariners -..-__ 309 

— — — , account of the oilgrimage of some to Jerusalem - - . — 303 

—^ — are supplied witn provisions at (he Isle of Rhee from Rochel • — fijii 

— curtesan, an account in what manner she was converted • iv. 85.1 
■■■ ■ foragers, the manner of their being served at Berwick descnhed — 4sis 
soldier, the will of one recited .- - — 437 

■ merchants, in what manner the Hollanders harass them • — 460 

■ clergy, observations on the expediency of clipping their wings — 466 
. ■ court, John Jokiu's secret embassy to it * — 60J 

D 4 

fd, rag* 
BiigKsh iMKuafc* th* fMtfectif»M of it dtoplajed ----- t. 4ta 
■ king*, OQ tha fate of many of them • . . • . _ 4M 

•ffktis io Denmark, aoaccoont of Mmoi • • • • f .. 545 

-, forced to retirOt are reeehred by the ktng* frc. of Bohcaift • vi. 10 

— 9ubj^ct», the great lerricea of the rebel* for . . • • — 41. 

— described as a mrrober of the Tevtooick nation ... — 92 
, obserratioct on Daniel, tI«o hiatorlan ..... — g^f 

— • king, St. Edward the last rightfol one b^ore William I. • • —> lOU 

— laws under Edward, a proposal for reviving tliem ..... 103 

, statement of the corruption of them - . . . . — tli 

, fisttlty ones, on what mie groooded ..... — . siu 

- ambassadors, answer to them •.••...— £5fi 

— army in the West Indies, a disnstrons account of It • • • — 37S 
■ , a description of it, at CasUe>bay in Barbadoet • • — 377 
, their proceedings at Sc Demlnto ... . — 379 

' the island of Jaouicn .... S8S 

— hermit, an account of Roger Crab, by bimtelf ..... sfo 

— Hero dcKribed, or tlie Cloud opened - . • . rii* 4as 

— cloth, a staple for it esublisbea at Delf - - - . — 5M 

— troops ou til c Dutch evasions of paying thrm ....... 525 

— , on their numerous loss« in the Eaat Indies .... — 5S1 

— settlement at Poioroone in the East lad^ .... — 43c 

— ships, account of their being seised by the Dutdi , - • - — 5SS 

— rebels, An>st«rdam in Hotiaad, a grand empoiiui for • . _ 537 
— , how foreign merchants ara enabled to underMU tlwm • vHi. 55 
.— , the French description of their cliaracier . . • • _ |oy 
— , the vassalage of the Ftaaeh abhorred by them - • • — > 117 

— captain, his remarks on the eondnct, kc of tbo ttwath - - — 141 
— ,on Mons. D'Eatree's doebtfni aid ta them - - • — 14t 

— , on their taking Maestricht **^liS 

— jesttiu, on Henry Garnet the pmviaeial of tboB • • • — 150 

— account of the Soame river being fbrdod by them . . • — 164 
— , on Limoisin's revolting ftom them ......... ijj 

— , on their possessing Kieoport •.-...... S15 

— , the propriety of having consuls in Spanish ports ... — 40ft 

— church service, on its being directed for Ireland « • • — r 640 
— • court, partiality thewn to tlie dissenters by it • . • • ix. t 
•.- aid IS doubted by the king of France ....... 7 

—, on their being ^vonred at Bantam .••...^.45 

— crown, account of the succession of it ....... £49 

— court, on the number of Ahitbophels abont it .... .1— ggx 
forces, account of tiioie sent to the Caribbee islaade . . «. 516 

, m what manner they irere barawed at AnguiUa — il8 

— ~ , on their landing at St. Bartholomew - . • . . .^ 519 

, the surrender of St. Bartholomew's to their forcea • - — A£0 

, account of theii pluudermg Marigalanta .... - — 521 

, their arrival at the bland of Ooree ..... — 5St 

— > , niasiifT, Ciipt. Tyrrell considered aa a brave one ... — 55s 

■ ■ - ■, the capture of Lyons by them .......x. 9^ 

■■ . -, ihe French navy destroyed by....... — 537 

crown, its usurpation by Richard ITT. ....._ 3iO 

-., account of their exploits in Flanders, Szc. • - . . _ 409 

, their triumphant shouts on facing th< ir enemies . . • .- 414 

■ — , a saying of the prince de Ligny upon them • • . • — 4Sl 

papists, an account of Eogiishonea in vanoua countries . . _ 430 

crown, the duchess of Burgundy lay» claim to it ... — 479 

, the policy of Masarine, dtc. to foment (iivi»ions among tliem — 5^ 

■ ■ ■— fleet, on its being a terror to Rome «>-..• xi. 7 

ships attacked by the Dutch off Leghorn > - . • - —17 
— — mc' I with a similar attack off Dover - - - - — la 

- , the occupiers of Toumay for five years — K4 

— — — gentlemi!n, a copious and minute account of their travels - — '2lit 

, on the number of in Amiens >ii. 15 

-~- , temperancp deemed one of their cardinal virtues ... — x\ 

—^^-^ religion, a Venetian's account of it . . ^ . . . — 70 

- ■ ■ rebels, tlie French king's deciaraiion sgainst them .... $.18 
Englishman, account of the martyrdom of one at Rome . • - • ii. 807 

- ■ , the will of one related --.-..- iv. 457 

, the first bishop of Utrecht was one v;i. 5C4 

, the French description of one in their writings - - viii. 107 

, the gross mistake of the French concerning . . . _ 109 

, not to be estimated merely as a Williamite ... xii 245 

Englishmen at Rome, in what manner tliey live there • - • • ii. I67 

ami Wflrhmen, their differance in college at Rome - - — lyrt 

— — , a mode proposed by which ttiey may win woaltii - - ili Sns 

— — , five of tnem arrive from Alexaudria at Jerusalem - - — .W7 

m»<le to fight the battles of the Conqueror • . - . ix. 461 

, sir Walter Raleigh's observations upon them • • . x. 285 

Enquiry on tiiids of passage, in a dissertation on Jereni. viii. 7. - - v. 498 

> ■ about na is e a o e s , obsrvations oa it • vi. IC7 



Eaqniry, a curloM en* into Idckj Aod OBladty days ^ ^ 

iuCo public affairs, aad the causa of naval mbnniage 

EoUrprtaa against Algiers, a lamentable aceoont of its fcilure 
EDiertainment of Charles I. by the City of London described 
Entries of France, a description of them * . . • 

Envy, malice, and other vices, the nature of than ditciMMd 
Ensersdorf, a desciiption of it •---•'•• 
Epigrams, teraral Tery curious ones on women's tonfnea 
Epi&e of lady Jane Gray to a person apostatising from reUfioa 

• or exhortation of lady Jane to her sister Catharine 

Co Charles I. - - . - . . - - 

Epitaph of bishop Bonner, stated at large . - • . . 

£pita|4is, account of some in antieot times .... - 

, Hugh Peters's, on sir Edward Harwood - - - - 

■ ■ of Armand, cardinal of Richlieo - . - . - 

■ of Edward, the black prince, at Canterbory . - - 

-, the Terses following it, a translation of - - - . 
, a curious one for Lewis 3tlV. of France ... 

Equipment of the invincible armada of Spain 

of a voung grniieman on a courting expeditido 

Equity, a plan for preventing delajs in courts of . . • - 
Equivocations of papists in what manner to be explained ■> • 
Erbury, Dorcas, the examination of her - • - • « - 
Ergastnlnm liierariura, acoount of a projects of • • * * 

Erostratns burned Diana's temple to get a name . • • • 
Errors and abuses in the Laws distovery stated . . • • 

Erskine, sir Thomas, his resolute and vidoaroas defence of king Jaaet 
Esardns, H. a bigotted CathoUck, some account of htm 
£«Iiog, on the meeting there of the cities of the empire 
Espinoy. the princess of, her magnanimous soirit . • • . 
£s|irit, St. a ship of the French seised in the Texei - • . . 

Essart, a German, is acquainted with Sterne 

Essay, a philosophical one on the cause of the tides . . • 

— — on the theatres, or the requisites for an artor - - • 

Essex, the ghost of, the commonalty of England described by 
-, a large description of^ 


-, account of the death of earl Walter In 1570 

-, liobcrt, earl of, burnt Cadia in 1596 
-, the eari of, goes into Ireland as general of the forees 
-, the ghost of, the second part of it . . . - 

-, in what manner the earl of it tempted by Spain 
, the earl of, account of his defeating the Spaniards at Roaa 
chases rebellion out of Y^rmandy 


v4U. 900 

xl. 141 

i, 831 

▼. 99 

X. £1« 

ti. «10 

xl, £8S 

iv. «75 

i. 96* 

- ^ 

vii. 90S 

i. aer 

iv. 7S 

V. 801 

— 39t 
via. ITT 

— 17a 
xi. 199 
iti. blB 
xii. 813 

xi. 4g 

viri. 444 

ri. 43S 

- IM 
xi. 371 
tI. 388 
ii. 344 
at. 339 

V. 4ro 

xl. 188 

id. 5n 

ix. ik 

viH. 1 

xH. 140 

iL 117 

ill. 304 

- 300 

— 30ff 

lord, an account of his death related 

the earl of, an account of him stated ... 

, his instructions received - - - 

-, his breach and quarrel with the eountest 

-, the countess of, becomes acquainted with Mrs. Tomer 

her farther proceedingf with her 

becomf's acquainted irith Dr. Forman 

-, her conversation with the eari 
-, sends a letter to Dr. Forman 
- complains, and tuts for a divorce 
-, a motion made for marrying Rochester 
-, discussions on the subject of Uie divorce 
her nsarriage with viscount Rochester 

-, the earl of, his plot and rebellion in queen Elisabeth's reign 

, his opinion of taking an army stated 
-, Robert, earl of, an account of his life and death • 

-, Devereux. sir Walter, created earl of .... 
-, the countess of, her seeking a divorce .... 

>, colonel Charles it mortally wounded 

•, the earl of, besteget Keadini;, and winters at Windsor 

-, -^— — raises the sie«e of Gloucester 

moJestf d in his march hy prince Rupert 
— — , ■ is joined by the train bands of London 

. — _^ : attacks and possesses Weymouth 

■ ' ■' -, ■-' officiously injures sir T. Bodley 

■, ■, his powerful opposition to Perkin Warbeck 

L* Estrange, Roger, on the advantages of good husbandry 
sir Roger, account of some intrigues at Lyno 

*, his annals of Charles 1. 

Evander in Virgil, a pattern of the Moors ..... 

Everett, George, hb observations on mariners, &e 

Evidence, how fNrto be admitted on the authority of Bellannine 
■ , on Bellarmine's questioning that of Anastarius 

— — , whetiier BellannineN may be admitted against Marcellinus 

, how Bellarmine's is contradicted by papists themselves 

' ' , how far variable on the time of pope Joatt*s liip 

— fllS 

— 318 

— 348 
— id, 

1^. 474 

▼. 140 

— 800 

— 334 

— 330 

— 338 

— i». 

— 30O 

— 301 

— 300 

— 3or 

*- lb. 

— .t79 

— 407 

"^ *'i 

VI. 3 

— 7 

— 9 

— 17 

— 80 

— 83 

— «r 

— 88 

— no 

— 35 
xi. 424 

▼iii. 62 

ix. 57 
xii. 37 

viii. 409 

X. 881 

iv. 45 

— 80 

— <6. 

Xlii IKDBX. 

Kvil of ttted, clabs dtsrn^sed and liive«tig»ted • . • . . viii. 69 

Evgeoe, prioce, an account of him - • ai. t78 

Xarope, the protestant iiiirrest in it considered - • • - i. 41 

, discoarse on the nodern affairs of ic i^ii. 390 

, danger of Fraace to ittn qneen Elisabeth's rtign . • . _ 9sq 

■' t , on tlie danger to it vlien at praee with France . - . . _ 940 

^——, the preM:nt state of it explained ••----- U. 299 

■ ■ , a slaTe, a dissertation upon it - zi. 189 

Eustace, St. is attacked and captured --••-••U. 539 

Rastathius, the name of, how abused • tI. fo 

EatrojAus, St- remarks and observations OD the name -^ • • - Tiii. 908 

Ewalaos, M. a noted clrrs^jman, some account of ------ xi. 3di 

Ewrc, lord, a curious sec oil < it of bira - vi, 604 

Examination of Piei re Cane, lohn Greehwood, &c« ^ • • r H* S7 

' lohn Pearie ---.-•--•— 91 

————— F'maiioal Fremosa, the first .-.--. jyo 

— — 1 — ' Francisco -----••-— 53 

■ Firemoaa, the second — 57 

' Marha Sjmonds - - -• -.- -ri. 491 

Haunali Stranger on foilowing H aylor - , - . — 43s 

— : Margaret Fell yii. £Q6 

" — George Fox, the noted Qoaker - - - • — &. 

Examples for kinga, a representation of Aeveral -••••▼. 161 

Excessof apparel, buildinf,^c. how deemed M>JQi^o» to nations - • ii. 97 

■■ and ambition of bishopn described ... • • vi« 1€ 

Exeeaset of a monarch, bj what means to be judged • - - • ix. 392 

Exchange, on a very singttUr occurrence there • • • - ri. 9S5 

', on its being a rendexvous for merchants i^ London - - viii. C9 

Excise, in what manner injured by stage coaches • • • viii. 34 

■' , how and in what res^ecu adTisablo -•-••• ix. 498 

, the de» aides of France similar to one ..... . x. 8O9 

Excommnnication of the church of Rome, or pope's cnrfe • . . viil. 559 

Excuse of the dissenting minuters against a cnarge of regicide - • tI. It9 

-—_ , their names recapitulated ... --.- — 13^ 

Execution of a Jacobin friar for murder of Henry IT. of France - - ii. 147 

■ the traitots, an account of, in the gunpowder plot - - lit 145 
' ■ sir Ererard Digby in St. Paul's chnrch.yard • - — 47 

- Guido Fawkes in Palace-yard -..--- — 48 

■ Humphrey Lody for treason and murder - . - - —69 
• the lieutenant of the Tower, with his speepb - r • — 9ld 
' of several statesmen at Fragae in Bohemia . . . — . 4^^ 
— ~— of the sentence on Dr. Bastwick, Burton, and Prynne • iv. tStt 
■' of Bradshaw for treason ------•▼. 59 

— ^-— — of the rebels agaias( Hichard II. account of ... — 927 

1 at Monster, of Cretching, servant to John of Leyden - — 4T7 

of sir Everard Digby, Sec. in St. Paul's church-yard - viii. 158 

of the Jesuits provincial. Garnet, for treason ... — 15^ 

■ of Humphrejf Winter, Littleton. &c. for conspiracy - - — 100 

• of Uie earl of Argyle, an account of it .... ». 3£7 

of Humphrey Stanord, an account of - - • . xi. 374 

■ the cause of Burdet*s stated • ...--— 40^' 

of Walker, landlord of Uie Crown in Cheapside - - — 424 

■ of lord Audley. and others, abettors of Perkin Warbeck - _ 427 
Ezecutiuner of the ioquisitions, a description of him • - - • viii. 420 

Executive power, is vested in the king -• ix. £09 

Exercise, on the kind to be used with Tunbridge water • • • vii. 46t 

Exeter, the king obliged to hiilt there for provisions • - • - vt. 92 

— — , the native city of sir T. Bodley ..... * •— 51, 5f 

, stKge coaches, remarks on the number of passengers • . viii. 39 

•—, account of the priuce of Orange entering it .... ix. 2l6 

, the (iuke of, makes a demand of the crown of France • • <• x. 305 

,the prince of Orange's march to it descritted • - • . — 54^ 

, account of CU:tiUs I.'s maicli tq it - - - . - • xi. 497 

ExIiO'tHtinn, iiu earnest one for the defence of our country • • • >L 85 

Exile, various cases of it stated - .-.--..v. 20 

Expedient, a good one fur innocence and peace ..... xii. 25!8 

Expedition to the isle of Rhee. an account of -..•.• v. 917 

Expences for 19 years to 1659 staie.d - ...--. xi. 157 

12 years to 2100 related — I61 

Experiments ot Weoceslans, the witnesses to them - . - viii. 464 

Explauade, or pomoFrium of Moiis described • • > - • - xi. 94 

Exploit of Horatio Codes at Pons Supplicum . .... xii. lo] 

Exploits, glorious ones of the English in Flanders • • . • • x. 409 

Exportation of raw materials, propriety of prohibiting .... xii. 251 
Extortion, a description of its nature -• •- 'Vi.lia 

Extract from Mr. May's account of the battle of Creasy . • • viii. 171 



yd. ptft 

Fabias, Axcellcnce of his cautioos conduct fegauiftt Hannibal 

F^bricius, SfDt to the German Auabaptistt to reform them ... 

, i» diallonged to a ditputatioo with the Anabaptists 

, Df. a more particular account of him . - . • - 

Faction, account of a French one in England -••>•• x. 
'^— — of Barnerelt, references to it ....._ 

Faculties granted to John Locet, the pope's agent or emissary 
Failure .of sir Francis Drake in his design upon Panama 

r Dr> Sn>in&*t resurrection, Lacj's reasons for it ... 

Fair sex, the Indifference of Lewis XIII. towards them ... 

F^urbonmv, sir Palmes, his prudent retreat by means of pikes 
Fairfax, a P*cket of letters seised bj him at radstow in Corowal 
^ , sir Tbomaa, appointed commander In chief by pwliamant 

, oueen. and lady Cromwell, the parliament between them 

, the dialogue between them, wiin the sudden exit • • . 
- ■, on the juggle between him and the citisens of London 

sir Thomas, is made peneral of the farces .... - 

, is inveigled to surrender his commissioa - • 

lord, s letter to htm on tlie use of commons .... 

Faifies, Thomas Cheney called the hermit of the queen of them > • 
Faith, on the popish maxim of not keeping it with hereticks - • . 
Falkland, the residence of king James of Scotland • ... 

Fal) of Wolsey and archbishop Laud, in what manner pre'«ignified 

-, Mrs. Anne Boleyn the original inatroment of it ' . 
Falsehood overcome by truth, and triumph of learning - . • 

Fame, worldly, the mirrour of it displayed on various subjects 
Familiars, the character of them, and their artful conduct ... 

, their occupations relative to the puidshment of prisonen 

Families^ on the vast numbers about London destroyed by plagues 
, great numbers impoverished aad rained by coacoes 
-, allied to the house of Howard 

•, ancient ones of the north siatod 

their ancient castles and mansions described 

Family of love, a sect so called, the djsscription of it 

■ Howard, a minut« and distinct account of it 
Famine, a dreadful account of one in the north of England 

, occasioned by excess of rain, and a consequent mortality 

, account of a heavy one in the city of Constantinople • 

of the city of Munster, possessed by the Anabaptists 

Fanatic Anabaptist^, on their proceeaings at Munster 

, another account of them stated 

Faoatica Bibliotheca, or I he Faoatick Library • . 
Fanatick, the character of one by a person of 90^t^ 

' ; the Assembly's Catediism, the divinity ofone . 

-, represents a perfect Samaiitan 

Fanaticks, a parallel between ancient and modern ones ... 
Fano in Italy, account of a particular custom there .... 

Fans, by whqm invented, and when introduced into England 

Fanshaw, sir Henry, read the indictment against the countess of Somerset 

Fardaosi, Hakin, the eastern poet-Uure«t ...... 

Faria. Fraociscode, on his being a party in murder .... 

Faritios, on his delivering up a treacherous slave • - • • .. 
Farmer, the country one in what manner he was served at Lopdon • 
Fanners, in what manner ruined by increase of buildings ... 

, thousands of them obliged to leave their farms . • . 

Farnesii Palatiuro, a description of 

Faruesio, cardinal, account of his palace at Caprarola • . . . 

Palatio, some account of it 

Farriers, on convening physicians into them . . . • 

Farrington, an account of the manner ot its relief from the rebels 
Farihiogs. lord Harrington obtains a patent for brass bones 
Fasciculus Temporum, the author of, commended and approved 
Fashions, Uie foolish and cosil)^ habit of changing with tnem 
Fasting of Martlia Taylor described, an instance of great abstinence 

.communicated to Mr. Reynolds 

Fasts, that they do not consist in ahstainiog from flesh only • 
Fatally, on observing lucky and unlucky days . • . • 

FatA of sir Cloudesley Shovel, the doubts entertained of it 

Father, Morton a nursing one to the church 

Fathers, their iniquities and crimes punished in the children - • 

Faulronbridge. lord, married to a daughter of Cromwell 
Favourite, Leicester not the only one of queen Elisabeth