Proteus redivivus, or, The art of wheedling or insinuation obtain'd by general conversation and extracted from the several humours, inclinations, and passions of both sexes, respecting their several ages, and suiting each profession or occupation / collected and methodized by the author of the first part of the English rogue.

CHAP. XI. That Passions are the seeds of Vice, from whence the Wheedle receives frequently a plentiful Harvest.

WE must in the first place presuppose, that the sensual appetite is devided into two parts, Concupiscible, and Irascible, one coveting, the other invading, yet are not two faculties, or powers of the Soul, but one only power and facul∣ty, which hath two inclinations; for, as there is but one power of hearing, and seeing, though with two Ears, and two Eyes; so we have one sensual Appetite with a double inclination, one coveting, and desiring, and the other invading, and oppug∣ning; by the former it pursues good, and shuns evil; by the latter, it either complies with, or opposes the difficulties which present themselves. For, as the Universe consists, and is full of things contrary, and opposite one to the other; so there is not any thing can continue in it without meet∣ing with Enemies, which assault and endeavour to destroy it. Wherefore, it was the work of the Providence of Nature to bestow on every in∣dividual thing, not only the virtues which were necessary for the Execution of its ordinary, and

as it were of its Domestick functions, but also those, which should secure it against the attempts of others, and prevent the violences which it might be exposed to abroad.

Upon this account it is, that all things have some qualities conducive to the preservation of their being, and others enabling them to oppose what is contrary thereunto. Man above all the Creatures of the Creation might boast of, and rejoyce in his safety and security, continually guarded by Reason, were it not for the Passions, which (since our ejectment out of the State of Innocency) have revolted from Reason, whence they had their orders, and are become disloyal, no longer acknowledging the voice of their So∣veraign, but obey what first commands them, and take part with a Tyrant, as with their legi∣timate Prince. This is nothing to be wondered at, since the Passions are no farther distant from Vices, than they are from Virtue; as in the con∣fusion of the Chaos, Fire and water were ming∣led together, so is evil with good in the affecti∣ons of the Soul, and from those fatal Mines, Iron is as well drawn out as Gold; Man ought therefore to keep himself always on his guard, and knowing that he carrieth about him in his Bosom both Life and Death, it behoveth him to be as circumspect in his comportments, as those, who walk upon the edge of a Precipice.

These Passions, as they are highly prejudicial, nay, sometimes destructive to every particular person in whom they are disordered; so are the greatest mischiefs in general hatcht, or occasio∣ned by these insolent affections; if Love and Hatred could be exiled from the Earth, Murder, and Adultery, could not there be found. Men may accuse Poets for Fictions, but these Passions have committed more Errors than the others have invented.

An unlawful Love put all Greece into Arms, and the flames thereof reduced the goodliest City of all Asia to Ashes. How infinite is the number of private families, which have been ut∣terly ruin'd by this Passion, instigated by Villa∣nous men, expecting from their fall a rise con∣siderable.

Jealousie between Caesar and Pompey, was the loss of the lives of more than a Million of Men; the world was divided in their quarrel, their Ambition put Arms into the hands of all people, and the world doth yet bemoan this Disaster, the spoils of this Shipwrack are yet seen, and the States of Europe are but so many pieces, which did compose the Body of that Puissant Common-wealth.

Thus Jealousie, when irritated and heightned, becomes destructive to private persons; how many horrid Murders are committed yearly up∣on

that account alone in Italy: where is there a place, wherein men are not strangely agitated by this Passion, in such sort, that at last they prove the fatal Instruments of their own ruin.

What advantage our Wheedle can make of this Passion, I know not, unless perswaded by lust to make a separation between Man and Wife, he hopes thereby to gain the enjoyment and possession of her. The jealous or supersti∣tious man of all men is the unfittest person for him to deal with, being given so much to mi∣strust, that it is impossible for one to make him believe any thing above a quarter of an hour, and if any thing intervene in that time, which seems to contradict that Report, he takes you for his Enemy, and he becomes yours impla∣cable without a cause. No man need to plot mischief against him, for he is one that watches it himself, with a learing eye for fear it should escape him. Much circumspection and caution must be had when you are in his company, how you speak; for most words he takes in a wrong sense, and thinks whatever ill is spoken of another reflects upon him; and not a jest can be thrown, but he will make it hit him; and herein you will find his humour insupportable, he shall stamp, swear, sweat, and chafe, that he is abused, and at last fretting, fling out of the room with a quarrel to every man, stung and gald, and no

men know less the occasion, than they that have given it.

Have a care how you laugh in his company, it is of a dangerous consequence, for he imagins it can be at nothing, but at him; and should you whisper, it is absolute Conspiracy. Such men can never have friends, because they cannot trust so far; they are continually wronging others, be∣cause they think they wrong them, and as they continually accuse others, when they are not guilty, so they are always defending themselves when they are not accused: finally, you were best let them alone, for behave your self how you will, it shall go hard, but that you must abuse them whether you will or no, and not one Bodle for your labour.

Of LOVE.

IT is pity, that Love, which is the holiest Passion of the Soul, should meet with so many impious Persons which corrupt it, and, contrary to its own inclinations, make it deserve their de∣signs, by turning natural Love into self-Love, making the Spring head of good, the Original of all out Evil: For before Adams fall, man had no love save only for good, but since his disobe∣dience, his love changed Nature; he, who look∣ed on another mans advantage, and his own with

the same eye, began to separate them, and for∣geting what he ow'd to God, he made a God of himself, ruling his affections by his own interests, and resolving to Love no longer any thing, but what was profitable and pleasing unto him.

This mischief, like Poyson, disperst it self through the whole Fabrick of Nature, and who is there now (nay amongst the Religious, and Severe Professers) who is not a Philautist, who is so much a self-lover, that he makes most of his designs Pimping Procurers to his benefit and delight. For self-love (which leans always to∣wards the flesh) will have the Slave to govern the Master, and that the Body command over the Soul. Self-love commands us to follow our own inclinations, and to govern our desires only acording to our vanity; flatters our ambition, and to insinuate it self into us, gives us leave to do what we please; it makes a man labour only for his own pleasure, or glory; it makes this the end of all his actions, and doth so bind man up within himself, as that it suffereth him not to consider any other interest than his own; if he does his Country or any particular Person any good, it is to do himself a kindness. Certainly this man must be ingrateful and unfaithful, who is so much in Love with himself.

From this Spring-head of Michief flow three Rivers, which deluge the whole Universe. The first is Venereal Love, or a Love of women, for face, and features, and this is called Inconti∣nency. The Second is the Love of Wealth, and a large Revenue, and this is called Covetousness; The third, and last is the Love of Titles of Hon∣nour, and Splendid preferments, and this is ter∣med Ambition: all these pleasing Enemies of mankind are hardly to be overcome by Reason; for besides their natural Forces, they have Auxiliaries, which they collect from our incli∣nations and habits: Now the Wheedle that knows the operations of these three Passions in himself, and how much they tickle him who is possest with them, understands how to conform to any of them so long, till thereby he hath gratified his own designs.

Of DESIRE.

ONe would think (since in all creatures, as well as men, there is a certain instinct for self∣preservation) man could not harm himself by having his Desires changed into effects; for, it is the ordinary wish which our friends, and nearest Relations bestow upon us, and undoutedly were they well regulated, nothing would be more greateful, and useful in their accomplishment;

and we should esteem our selves (from thence) the happiest of men, if after a long pursuance, we should arrive to the complement of our de∣sires; but, as these wishes are almost always unjust, so their success is frequently injurious. And, here I cannot omit inserting a most incom∣parable saying of Seneca, Bonae animae male precan∣tur, & si vis foelix esse, Deum ora, ne quid tibi ex his quos optantur, eveniat. We must pray to the Omnipotent, that nothing may befal us, which is wished to us; and in this, it is not improbable that our best friends may innocently wish us ill, when they make vows in our behalf: this is a pardon, not so difficult to be understood, if you will but consult the dangerous practices of the Wheelde in feeding, and fomenting that Self-love he discovers in any Person, by indulging (if pos∣sible) all his wishes, and desires, working upon the imagination the more to irritate them, which probable might be quiet enough, did not this embroiling Power put them in disorder.

Nature (of her Self) is contented with a very little, and that mean too; she only makes head, to oppose what either doth molest, or would de∣stroy; she covets not stately structures, and, so that she be but preserved from the injury of the Weather, she values not their ornaments; she minds not gaudy habiliments, and cares not how plain her garments are, so that they hide her na∣kedness,

and fence her body from the rigour of the cold; she hunts not after delights, which are ex∣cesful in meat, and drink, so that they quench Thirst, and satisfy Hunger: but imagination, which seems to have no other employment since the Fall, continually is busied in inventing new delights, and adds dissoluteness to our de∣sires, and makes our, wishes altogether irrega∣lar; tis she that makes the whole Nature labour to satisfie our Pride and Luxury; she dives into the Bowels of the Earth, and into the depths of the Sea, to find out Pearls, and pretious Stones, with what other ornaments they afford to deck the body.

In fine, she inquisitively seeks after curiosity of delicate food, and admits of none, but what is exquisit; she confounds the Seasons to afford man pleasure, and in spight of a sultry Summer, preserves Snow and Ice to cool the Wine, that it may please the better. These things the sen∣sual Wheedle suggests to him by the strength of imagination (to fatten his own carkass) and ha∣ving possest him with an opinion of the excel∣lency of their enjoyment, impatient of delay, and wing'd with desires, he takes his flight, and never desists till he hath seiz'd the Quarry; and at length, by greediness, is either gorg'd, or sur∣feited into an Hospital, having not so much mony left, as will procure him one single Pur∣gation.

How cunningly will this Wheedle insinuate himself into the Society of young Men, and knowing how prone they are to prosecute plea∣sure of all sorts, he hath an Inventory of all pla∣ces of Pleasure and Pastimes; then he tells them of such an excellent New-Spring-Garden; such a Match at Bowls, where so much Mony will be laid; such a Race; such a Match at Hunting, &c. if none of these will take, he hath twenty more; some of which will hit; after this a glass of Wine, over which he discourses of several excellent Beauties, he hath had the honour to be acquainted with, such who were never blown upon by the infectious Air of the City or Suburbs, but fresher than Flora in all her sweet smelling gaiety; these are the Traps he lays, when he hath warm'd their Bloods with Liquors, and poisons them with Wine and VVomen, as men do Rats with Sponge and sweet Malago.

Of HOPE.

HOpe is the next thing our Wheedle makes use of for his advantage, abusing it by an employment contrary to the intent of Nature, and making it serve an unworthy Master, where∣by Cunning or Violence turns it out of the pure Stream, wherein Virtue smoothly glides, and by diverting her from her legitimate Object,

he proposes others unto her incongruous to her Nature. For, according to the opinion of the Learned, this Passion ought to respect good that is absent, difficult, yet possible; wherefore Ho∣nours, Profits, and Pleasures, cannot be true Ob∣jects; for they have only the appearance of good; it is Opinion (that knows not rightly how to name things) hath given them Titles they de∣serve not; for, to say the Truth, Riches and swel∣ling Titles have no other valuation, than what Ignorance or Falshood have bestow'd upon them. Honour depends so strongly upon Opinion, as it is her meer Workmanship. The Pleasures of this life are too pernicious to man to be numbered among his good things; for Shame and Sorrow always attend them, making them bear the pu∣nishment of all their extravagancies they have committed; which our Wheedle takes care to conceal from mens knowledge, lest knowing the fad effects, they should repent, and desist from prosecuting them: he represents them otherwise to the deceived eye of his Bubble, showing him Pictures, which are in effect nothing less than what they appear to his Senses; and thus the poor ignorant Gull, judging of the deceitful work∣manship of those Pictures only by the eye, thinks he sees Birds hovering in the Air, and, standing at a distance, imagins by the crafty Landskip, that he sees Hills, Plains, and Woods of a vast ex∣tent,

but drawing nearer, finds only some few stroaks of a Pencil, drawn on Canvass, which deceived his Senses, and made him see what was not; or had they been real representations, and not painted appearances, he hath a thousand pretences to keep them out of his Clutches, and yet buoy up his Hope still with empty pro∣mises.

All men are apt to flatter themselves with vain hopes, and therefore it is a matter of no great difficulty, to infuse Hopes into the credulous Prisoner for Debt; though he be under never so many Executions of merciless Creditors, yet he promiseth himself liberty, which the Wheedle understanding, cherisheth in him those ground∣less Hopes, by telling him there is nothing im∣possible; that he hath effected more difficult things of the like Nature; further insisting on the great authority he hath over such, and such of his Creditors, and that he questions not, but by his perswasion, he shall work them to a good agreement: this extracts part of the remaining mony out of his pocket, which should have bought him bread, and leaving him, adds more misery to his deplorable condition.

A Criminal condemn'd (though under the Hangmans hands) by Hope perswades himself he shall escape the Gallows, which his Wheedle assures him of, and receives from him the re∣mainder

of his ill gotten mony, but leaves him in his greatest extremity, and thus the Rope puts a period to his Hope. This is certain, that there is none so miserable, who do not (indiscreetly) feed themselves with some imaginary happiness; thinking, that the Stars will club their influen∣cies to do Miracles for their sakes, and that the order of the Universe shall be chang'd to fulfil their desires; these are the men whose compa∣ny he dearly loves, for they are one main Pillar which supports his house, which was built out of the ruins of many others; he leads them by the Nose (as the Bear-heard does Tom-Dove up and down the Town) to this Lords house, and that Noblemans, pretending to help them to Preferments, or what else he can gather from them, they either hope for, or desire, but to less purpose for them, than the pennyless Pilgri∣mage to Scotland; for these deluded Fops see none of these Great men, on whom their hopes depend by his perswasion, nor do I see, how they can by his means; for, he knows them not, and if he hath heard of their names and abode, that is all; now whilst their gaping Hopes gaze on something, they know not what, and never shall attain to, he dives into their pockets, and sends them home pluckt as (Widgeons and Wood∣cocks) founder'd and tired with the travel, and trouble of waiting upon nothing. Nor shall the

old man escape him, who hopes to live a little longer, a man to be pitied more than any other; for though in a Glass, (if he hath any glimmer∣ing sight left) he may see Death lively Pourtray'd in his countenance, doth yet promise himself longaevity; they are sensible, that every day, they lose the use of some part of their body; they see not but by art; they hear not without difficulty; they walk not without pain; and in every thing that they do, they have new proofs of their weak∣ness, yet they hope to live, and, to confirm him in that believe, our Wheedling Sophister tells him how our fore-fathers lived many ages, and why may not he one half Century of years beyond the common custom; it is not so long ago since old Parr lived; it is but having a care of them∣selves, and they may fence their (old, though sound) carkasses from Death, and so taste a fa∣vor that hath not been granted, excepting to such as had not as yet lost all Innocence. He will run up and down the whole Town to find out Wo∣men old and leacherous, (very usually) and soon ingratiares himself into their Society, by telling them they look younger, and younger, (which they believe before he told them so) then per∣swades them to go in Habits more youthful; if Teeth are wanting, he supplies them; if the Head be bald, he hath Tours in store of all sorts; if the Face be pale and wrinkled, he hath Paint

to plaister up the chaps, or fill those deep fur∣rows Age hath plow'd up; if the Breath stink, and the (scarce moving) Carkass be foetid, he hath Pastils to perfume the one, and Essences to swee∣ten the other; by these Artifices he assuredly helps her to an Husband or a Stallion, and is well satisfied for dealing with such rotten Commodities.

By these ridiculous perswasions he wins the heart of these old Dotards to give him a present Boon, knowing, or guessing at least, that they hardly have so much time left, as might be ta∣ken up in writing their last Wills and Testa∣ments.

Of AUDACITY.

MR. Wheedle pretends to an intimate ac∣quaintance with this Passion too, but he mistakes it, by calling or nick-naming Audacity by that of convenient Boldness, as he terms it, which in plain English is Impudence; he will thrust himself into any strange company with∣out enquiry who they are; for the better benefit of exercising his Pride, that he may be thought some great man, or at least a man of some au∣thority; haply he may by his Wheedling and Insinuation, get into some beneficial employ∣ment, and then he straight changeth his face up∣on this preferment, because his own was not

bred to it. His actions and countenance seem to strive which should bespeak how much he is; now, if you chance not to mind him, 'tis ten to one he will mind you, and give you to understand how remiss you are in your non-observance, and will take pains to do it, that all the company may take notice of it, and concludes every pe∣riod with his Place; much like a Constable that was in Office upon his Sacred Majesties Restau∣ration, who for some years after, seldom mist in his Discourse, frequently to repeat what he had seen at such a time, he being then Constable, but mistook most abominably at last, saying, When his Majesty had the honour to come through the City, I was Constable that time.

Whilst you have any thing to use him in, take notice you are his Vassal for that time, and must give him the patience of any injury, which he does to show what he may do. In this con∣dition, whilst you are necessitated for his help, he will snap you up most imperiously, not for any reason, but because he will be offended, and tells you, that you are sawcy and troublesom, and sometimes takes your mony in that language. In short, he is a man of little merit, and makes out in Pride and Impudence, what he wants in worth, fencing himself with a stately kind of Behaviour from that contempt would pursue him.

This is a Fellow, whom I may call more Fool than Wheedle, for he that endeavors to raise himself higher and higher in worldly estimation must wrap up Ambition and Pride in the Mantle of pretended Humility; by seeming to adore Su∣periours, condescending to Equals, and by an even deportment to Inferiours.

If Mr. Wheedle come from Sea, or pretends to have been there; (where note he is Jack of all Trades, and free of most Mysteries, Professi∣ons, and Occupations) I say, if he would have the World believe that he is a Stout man, there is no man truly Valiant will say, he is half so much indued with Fortitude and Audacity as himself, and since he knows not how to give any other proof there of than words, he proclaims himself the invincible Sir Frederick Fight-all, Captain Al-Man-Sir,—By your leave friend H. C: one Paragraph of your Coffee-house Character is so proper to this purpose, and so Satyrical, sharp, and witty, that at first I thought to have turn'd Paper-Pad, and rob'd you; but upon second thoughts I lookt upon that course ignoble to a friend, when he may have the liberty to borrow.

I say, this Wheedling Huff, that needs would be Captain,—I know not what, Is the Man of Mouth, with a Face as blustering as that of Eolus, and his four Sons in Painting, and a voice louder than the Speaking-Trumpet; he begins you the Story

of a Sea-Fight; and though he were never by water farther than the Bear-garden, or Cuckolds-Haven, yet having pyrated the names of Ships and Captains, he perswades you himself was present, and performed Miracles; that he waded Knee-deep in blood on the upper Deck, and never thought Serenade to his Mistress so pleasant, as the Bullets whistling; how he stopt a Vice-Admiral of the Enemies under full Sail, till she was boarded, with his single Arm instead of Grapling-Irons, and puft out with his breath a Fire-ship that fell foul on them. All this he relates sitting in a Cloud of Smoak, and belching so many Cannon-Oaths to vouch it, you can scarce guess whe∣ther the real Engagement, or his Romancing account of it be the more dreadful. However, he concludes with railing at the Conduct of some eminent Officers, (that perhaps he never saw) and protests, had they taken his advice at a Council of War, not a Sail had escaped us.

How ridiculously doth this Fool mistake him∣self, thinking by his bouncing, to leap into the reputation of a valiant Man, whereas on the con∣trary, the wise will look on him no more than a Lyar, and consequently a Coward: True Valour never speaks much of it self. He must then have some other design in the venting of his Rhodomontado's, which this way cannot be great, but creeping on all four like his fortune: it may be the relation of what dreadful things he

hath seen, may squeeze a dinner or a drunken bout out of some, who have spent most of their time in reading Books of Chivalry, and there∣fore love to hear of bloody exploits; dulce bel∣lum Inexpertis: it may be another upon the sup∣position of his being a desperate man may be threatned, or frightned out of the loan of a Crown, but using it too often, the other is forced to be rid of him at last by trying his valour, and in the contest finds him what he is made of, a meer man to look on.

I like his subtlety well in following Natures dictates, making use of what ever tends to self-preservation, knowing what dangers men are cal'd to, who are the true Professors of Fortitude and Audacity; fighting is her ordinary exercise, and she often times bathes her self in tears or Blood; she is always encompassed with dangers, and on what side soever she turns, she sees nothing but ghastly images, fearful apparitions; these are fights his timerous Soul will not permit him once to look on. To conclude, he looks on the actions of the Valiant to be little less than the effects of Madness, and will never venture farther than his safety will permit him.

Of ANGER.

THere are few errors which men commit, but have their excuses attending them, and perrsist in the disorders, not only for the esteem they place upon them, but like wise for the Rati∣onality which seems to back, and justify them: thus the Angry, and Cholerick prosecutes his re∣venge, because it is sweet in the exceution, though bitter afterwards, and he thinks it both Reason and Justice to right himself when wrong'd: the Incontinent excuse themselves upon their weakness, and call their continual active Leache∣ry, an Infirmity. Detractors have their pretences too, for what opprobriums, and calumnies they utter against others: now Revenge and Choler, believing themselves to be grounded upon Reason, demean themselves insolently, and would per∣swade us that all their excursions are as just, as couragious and valiant: This he confidently be∣lieves, and he cannot be his friend that disswades him out of that opinion; he hugs himself in it, and our Wheedle comes, and embraceth them both therein; there is no way for him to bring about his end, but floating with him in that Torrent, which is to no boot to oppose; for it bears down all before it. He subtlely insinuates into his Ear the gallantry, and legality of this un∣just passion: because it is used, and too too much

practised, among Great Ones: he tells him fur∣ther, that it cannot but be noble and generous; be∣cause it frequently dwels in the Breasts of Dukes, Earls, Kings, and Emperours; and then slily commends Alexander, for being so Passionate, and revengful, as not to spare his dearest friends when in his wrath, and imputes all his Victories to that rash Passion; inferring further, that though some condemn him for rashness, yet none can deny, but that he was fortunate in it: these things so tickle that humour, which he can't but follow, that no man pleaseth him more than he that sug∣gests them.

Such like flatteries, and insinuations with great Men make them require from their Inferiours such shameful obsequiousness to their inordi∣nate desires, that they become offended with a just liberty among their Equals. They take good advice for neglect, and rational Counsels for an undermining of their Authority. Fortune hath made them so tender, as Suspitions serve them for proofs to condemn the Innocent. O what excellent work doth the Wheedle make with such a Person; he knows that the truth is odious to him, and he cannot bear with fidelity in his Domesticks; he will not swallow down a Truth unless corrupted, which the Wheedle prepares according to his fancy; and the temper of his mind is so low, and weak, that sincerity in a servant is

able to offend him; for he thinks there is some design against his Honour, when his faults are reprehended, and though it be done in the most circumspect and mildest manner imaginable, yet it is always taken by him for an injury, or affront. To please him in the removal of these faithful Tel-troths, and to serve himself in his future de∣signs, the Wheedle inveighs against them, accu∣seth them of sauciness, ambition, indiscretion, and what not, till he hath rooted them out of the family, in whose places he introduceth flattering insinuating Rascals, who will say, and swear any thing, and are more his Creatures, than their Ma∣sters: thus working on that Choler, which trans∣ports him, he makes him know (it may be when it is too late) that his Greatness, is meet Weak∣ness, and that at length the Man's the Master.

Here by the way, give me leave to tell how the She Wheedle operates, and kneads this Passion, (where know that there are as many female Whee∣dles in their several Functions, and Occupation as Male.)

When she meets with any, who subject them∣selves to her power, and patiently suffer them∣selves to be born away by her motions, she then takes the liberty, and freedom to fly at all, and believes she may promise her self any thing from a Slave, who can refuse her nothing: If she pos∣sess the Soul of a Great Man, or a Man of a great

Estate, who hath neither Resolution nor Courage sufficient to defend himself against her Tyranny, she makes use of the weakness of his mind and the strength of his purse, to execute her designs; the subtlety of her wit penetrates the grossness of his, and makes the Dung-hill of his little understand∣ing manure and fatten her barren Land, and seiz∣ing on his head, she takes Possession of the whole man, and converts him and his appurtenances (as much as she can) to her own proper use and benefit.

Much more might be spoken of such like in∣trigues, which I relate not, as I approve, or would have any imitate the Wheedles endeavours, but condemn their designs; for if he that commits a fault is not innocent, he that provokes one to it, must be faulty; the one commences the Crime, and the other finishes it, and both are alike guilty: the one makes a Challenge (as in this case) and the other Accepts it; the second is not more just, than the first, save that the injury he hath receiv∣ed serves for a pretence to another.

Of Delight or Pleasure.

WHat Epicurus innocently, and with a good intent proposed to men, viz. the enjoy∣ment of Pleasure, our Wheedle following the Example of his debauched Disciples, doth beast∣ly, and knavishly abuse.

The Sect of the Epicureans taking notice of the difficulty which attended Virtue, which made her hated, and condemned by vulgar, lazy, ter∣rene Souls, and that the labour that went to the acquisition thereof, made them lose the longing after her, they strove to perswade them, that she was pleasant, and delightsom; upon their word, some began to court her, and think∣ing to find all manner of delight, and pleasure in her Retinue, they made their amorous addresses to Madam Virtue; but, finding nothing about her which made any impression upon the senses, they chang'd their design, and made Love to Vo∣luptuousness. Of which Sect our Wheedle is Master of Art; not that he was ever a true Dis∣ciple of Epicurus, who would never have propo∣sed Voluptuousness to men, but to make them in love with Virtue; yet, because his design was unhappy, and met not with desired success, he could not avoid calumny; and the Zeal of his Adversaries confounded his Opinion with his Disciples Errour.

This voluptuous Wheedle hath his Disciples too, and are rankt under several Classes; The Whore∣master, Drunkard, Glutton, Gamster, Pimp, Bawd, Whore, Cuff and Kick, Bully, Huff, Bully Ruffin, the Sloathful, the Ambitions, the Conceited, the Lascivious, the Affected, the Coward, the Impudent, the Ignorant, the Insolent, with many more.

For the instruction of his Disciples, he hath many Schools, or Academies, viz. Taverns, Bawdy∣houses, or Coffee-houses, Inns, Ale-houses, Gardin∣houses, Ordinaries, Tennis-courts, &c. and his Desks to write upon are a Pair of Tables, Shuffle∣boards, or Billiard-tables, &c.

When he hath a mind to instruct his Scholars abroad, he then turns Peripatetick, and walks them to Bowling-greens, Bowling-allies, nay Pidgeon∣holes, Nin-pin-allyes, or for further exercise to Whetstones-park; but of these more hereafter.

When he intends to take the fresh air, Hide∣park is no small advantage to him; on a fair May∣day he repairs thither, as to a Mart, where he picks up more Baubles, than at Bartholomew-Fair, or our Ladies in South-wark; and the Lodge is his grand Shop, where he takes up all sorts of Co∣modities upon trust; the Coaches are his Moving∣stands, where he furnisheth some of his Customers with plenty of Linnen, only for taking up; others pay so dearly for it, that it proves their Shrowds, or Winding-sheets. Here he picks out and culls the men on Horse-back, and by slight of hand with wonderful celerity, dismounts their Georgies; or shuffles in among the dusty, sweaty, Rabble, and will venture the defiling of his cloaths, to guild his pockets: not an Apple-woman shall escape him, but he will-reap some Fruit of her. In this promiscuous Rendez-vouz of different people,

he indifferently lays his baits for all, and if he tickle not a Trout, he will infallibly catch some Gudgeon.

His greatest Mart, and longest of continu∣ance, is Epsom, or Tunbridge Wells, where (blind-fold) he cannot miss of Misses enough to mislead, and of Males to unman for his profit. The first he picks up for his amorous Disciples; both pay him Custom for Procuration; he rarely uses them himself, yet no Woman hater, but hates the Woman, that with her Milk will not give down her Mony. On the latter he exercises himself by diving into their humours, and that he may not be lookt upon as unsociable, he shews him∣self conformable unto them. He comes not there only to drink Physical Waters, but inflaming in∣toxicating Wine; not but that he drinks them too, for fashion sake, and to pick up company; and having delug'd their guts with that cold insi∣pid stuff, and dung'd the neighbouring land with yellow Marle, vulgarly called excrement; he tells them of that imminent danger of a Quartan, which attends them if they warm not speedily their chil'd, and benum'd body with a glass of wine, briskly going round.

They agree, and by a general consent the glass doth freely pass about, and none so seeming∣ly free to drink as Mr. Wheedle, but by shifting his Wine, he keeps his head less annoy'd with

fumes, whilst the others, inspired with extrava∣gant fancies, betray their humours to his obser∣vation, and so become a prey to his Stratagems. The Proverb saith, When the Wine is in, the Wit is out, which they find next Morning by wo∣full experience; having nothing left them, but their Ears standing. For when the blood is heat∣ed by the overflowing wine, which the Wheedle observes by the face, or discourse, a game at Ta∣bles is then proposed; if that dislike, then Cards are produced; or formonies quick dispatch, Box and Dice Nicks them infallibly. For variety a Game at Nine-pins must not be despised, where∣in the Wheedle is so dexterous, and so skillful at it, that he will not fail once in five times to knock down a single pin, throwing the Bowl over an house, and, though on horse-back, tip down all Nine so certain, and so often, as to make the Looser swear, the Wheedle hath put false Nine-pins on him.

On Tunbridge-Wells.

AT five this Morn, when Phoebus rais'd his head From Thetis Lap, I rais'd my self from bed, And mounting Steed, I trotted to the Waters, The Rendez-vouz of feign'd, or sickly Praters, Cuckolds, Whores, Citizens, their Wives and Daughters, My squeamish Stomach I with Wine had brib'd, To undertake the Dose it was prescrib'd; But turning head, a sudden noisom view (That Innocent provision over-threw) And without drinking, made me Purge, and Spew. Looking on t'other side a thing I saw, Who (some men said.) could handle Sword and Law. It stalkt, it star'd, and up and down did strut, And seem'd as furious as a Stagg at Rut. As wise as Calf, it lookt, as big, as Bully, But bandled, prov'd a meer Sir Nich'las Cully. A Bawling Fop, a natural Noaks, and yet, He dar'd to censure, as if he had Wit. In short, no malice need on him be thrown, Nature has done the business of Lampoon, And in his looks, his Character hath shown. Endeavouring this irksom sight to baulk, And a more irksom noise his silly talk, I silently slunk down to th' Lower VValk.

But often, when one would Carybdis shun, Down upon Scylla 'tis ones fate to run: So here it was my cursed Fate to find As great a Fop, though of another kind; A tall stiff Fool, who walkt in Spanish guise; The Buckram Poppet never stir'd it's eyes, But grave as Owl it lookt, as VVoodcock wise. He scorn'd the empty talking of this Age, And spoke all Proverb, Sentence and Adage, A man of parts, and yet he can dispence VVith the formality of speaking sense. From hence unto the upper end I ran, Where a new Scene of foppery began, Amongst the serious, and Phanatick Elves: (Fit company for none, besides themselves.) Assembled thus, each his Distemper told, Scurvy, Stone, Stranguery. Some were so bold To charge the Spleen to be their Misery, And on the wise Disease bring infamy. But none were half so Modest to complain, Their want of Learning, Honesty and Brain, The general diseases of that Train. These call themselves Embassadors of Heav'n, And saucily pretend Commissions giv'n, But should an Indian King, whose small command, Seldom extends above ten miles of Land, Send forth such wretched Fools in an Embassage, He'd sind but small effects of such a Message.

Next after these a foolish whining Crew Of Sisters frail were offer'd to my view. The things did talk, but th' hearing what they said, I did my self the kindness to evade. Looking about, I saw some Gypsies too, (Faith Brethren they can Cant as well as you.) Nature hath plac'd these VVretches beneath scorn, They can't be call'd so vil'd, as they are born.

Amidst the crowd, next I my self convay'd, For now were come (White-wash, & paint being laid) Mother and Daughters, Mistress and the Maid, And Squire with VVigg and Pantaloons display'd, But ne're could Conventicle, Play or Fair For a true Medley with this Herd compare. Here Squires, Ladies, (and some say) Countesses, Chandlers, Egg, Bacon-women and Semstresses Were mixt together, nor did they agree More in their humours, than their quality. Here waiting for Gallant young Damsel stood, Leaning on Cane, and muffled up in hood. The VVould-be-wit, whose business was to woo, With that remov'd, and solemn scrape of shoo Advanceth bowing, then gentilely shrugs, And ruffled Foretop into order Tugs. And thus accosts her, Madam, methinks the weather Is grown much more serene, since you came hither. You influence the heav'ns; and should the Sun With-draw himself to see his rays out-done,

Your brighter Eyes could then supply the Morn, And make a Day, before a Day be born.

With mouth scru'd up, conceited winking eyes, And breasts thrust forwards, Lord, Sir, she replyes, It is your goodness, and not my deserts, Which makes you show this Learning, Wit and Parts, He Puzl'd, bites his nail, both to display The sparkling Ring, and think what next to say. And thus breaks forth afresh, Madam, I Gad, Your luck at Cards last Night was very bad. At Cribidge fifty nine, and the next show To make the game, and yet to want those two. Gad Damme, Madam, I'm the Son of a Whore, If in my life I saw the like before.

Tir'd with this dismal stuff, away I ran Where were two Wives with Girls just fit for Man, Short Breath'd, with pallid Lips, and Visage wan. Some Court'sies past, and the old Complement Of being glad to see each other, spent, With hand in hand they lovingly did walk, And one began thus to renew the talk. I pray (Good Madam) if it may be thought No Rudeness, what cause was it hither brought Your Ladyship? She soon replying, smil'd, We have a good Estate, but have no Child; And I'm inform'd these Wells will make a barren Woman, as fruitful as a Coney-warren. The first return'd, for this cause I am come, For I can have no quietness at home:

My Husband grumbles, though we have got one, This poor young Girl, and mutters for a Son. Is't so (quoth t'other) faith, I pity then Your Husband much, and all such sapless Men. Poor foolish Fribbles, who by subtlety Of Midwife (truest Friend to Lechery) Perswaded are to be at pains and charge, To give their Wives occasion to enlarge Their silly heads; for here walk Cuff and Kick, Who wait for Women, or lay wait to Nick. From these the Waters got the Reputation, Of good Assistants unto Generation.

Now Warlike men were got into the throng, With hair ty'd back, singing a Bawdy Song. Not much afraid, I got a nearer view, And 'twas my chance to know the dreadful Crew; Who are (though gaudily they thus appear) Damn'd to the stint of Thirty pound a year. With Hawk on fist, or Greyhound led in hand; The Dogs and Foot-boys they command. And having trim'd a cast off Spavind-horse; With three hard pincht for Guinnys in the Purse; Two rusty Pistols, Scarf about the Arse, Coat lin'd with Red, they here presume to swell; This goes for Captain, that for Colonel. So the Bear-Garden-Ape on his Steed mounted, No longer is a Jackanapes accounted, But is by virtue of his Trumpery, then Call'd by the Name of the Young Gentleman.

Bless me thought I, what thing is man, that thus In all his Shapes he is ridiculous? Our selves with noise of Reason we do please, In vain Humanity is our worst disease. Thrice happy Beasts are, who because they be Of Reason void, are so of Foppery. Troth I was so asham'd, that with remorse, I us'd the Insolence to mount my Horse; For He doing only things fit for his Nature, Did seem to me (by much) the Wiser Creature.

The next things we shall insist upon must necessarily be the Passions, which are opposit to the six former we have already discourst of; the first was Love, and its contrary is

HATRED.

IF the Wheedle were an universal good, he would love every particular good, and were he endued with all the perfections that are found in all men, he would find none that would con∣trary him; but he is unjust, because he is poor, and his aversion takes its original from his Pover∣ty. Hatred then, as it is a weakness in his Nature, so it is a proof of his indigence, and a Passion which he cannot with Reason employ against any of his Fellow-Creatures, nor irritate, or provoke one against the other, for any selfish design.

Self-love is a considerable Propagator of this disorder; for were he more regulate in his af∣fections, he would be more moderate in his aver∣sions, and not consulting his own interests he would hate nothing, but what is truly odious; but he is so unjust as to judge of things only by the credit he bears them, condemning them when they displease, and approving them when they like; he would have them change quali∣ties too, according to his several humours, that, like Chamelions they should assume his Colours, and accomodate themselves to his desires; nay he would be (if it were possible) the Center of the World, and that all Creatures should have no other Inclinations than what he possesseth. Whatsoever is most fair, seems ugly to him, if it likes him not; the bright beams of Virtue dazle his eyes, because that Virtue condemns his faults; and Truth becomes the object of his Hatred, because she censures his Lyings, Flatteries and abominations.

To conclude he loves none, but whom he may gain by, and hates all that any way impede, or obstruct his crafty designs; yet he carries his ha∣tred to all so closely, that Revenge shall be execu∣ted before any discovery can be made, and knows how to excuse it too to the offended, & by throw∣ing the fault on some other of his supposed foes, obtains the benefit of a double Revenge. In

short he loves himself so well that he can be a real friend to none, and the best way to secure your self from him, is to have no correspondence with him; but if you needs must, let him never enter into a familiarity with you, and then like the Adder, losing his forked Sting, his Love, and Hatred will be useless, and ineffectual: The next Passion we treated on was Desire and its opposit, is,

Eschewing, or Shunning.

SInce punishment is more sensible than Vice, it is eschew'd with the greater care and fear, and there are few People who do not rather love to be faulty, than unfortunate. We run from an infected City in such Droves, as if we were going to defend the Fronteers from some Forreign invasion, and a Lord have mercy on us writ on a door, will make us go a mile about to shun the infection, and yet we draw near to all sorts of bad and infectious Company, so long, till the Lord knows what will become of us. Pesti∣lential Infections may work an alteration in our health, but evil Society will tob us of our inno∣cency. Good natures by compliance to com∣pany are frequently depraved, and though they have a natural love to good things, yet the Wheedle by contrary suggestions choaks those

honest desires, for he never gets by Virtue; it is Vice that is the Iackawl which finds him out his sustenance, and to this end he defends Vice, who to enlarge the Empire thereof, endeavours to make it appear lovely and glorious; but he hath a special care not to show her by daylight, he hids her in dark and obscure places, and none but com∣plices are witnesses of her beauty. Sometimes the Wheedle with his other Partakers, will raise her on a Throne, and use their utmost craft to win her glory; they cover it with the Mantle of Vir∣tue, and if it hath any thing of affinity with its Enemy, by changing names, they make one pass for the other; thus Revenge they call greatness of courage: Incontinency, Natures irresistable commands, &c. and no wonder if the ignorant are deluded with these false titles, when the best Wits suffer themselves to be perswaded and led away by their loose and lewd Reasons.

In a word all that the Wheedle can act as to this Passion is to hinder men from loving Virtue, and to stop their desires in seeking after her, and by his evil Counsel lead them a quite different way, teaching them to lay traps for chastity; prompting them to pleasure, exciting to Choler, and at last losing all shame and fear they give freedom to all their Passions, to their utter ruine and destruction.

OF DESPAIR.

MAny are the advantages which men make of Hope, buoying it up in others, for their own particular advantage: but as to the con∣trary Passion, Despair, I know not what use the Wheedle can make of it, unless it be to per∣swade some of his Rich Relations to hang them∣selves, as a Father or an elder Brother, or a perverse peevish wife, whom he would have to quit the stage of the world, that another (whom he hath already unlawfully chosen) may act her part with him in her stead.

But now if we rightly consider the nature of Despair, we shall find it doth as well prompt us to consult our preservation, as precipitate us into destruction; Let others, when threatned with some great disaster, or involved amongst a thousand intollerable Evils, lay violent hands on themselves, this VVheedle will make ano∣ther use of this Passion; for he prudently observes that as this Passion takes men off from the pur∣suit of a difficult good which surpasseth their power, so are there a thousand occasions met withal in mans life, wherein she may be advan∣tagiously made use of, and there is no condition how great so ever in this world, which needs not her asistance. For mens powers are limitted,

and the Greater part of their designs are very difficult, or impossible; Hope and Audacity which animate them, have more of heat than govern∣ment; Led on by these blind Guides they would throw themselves headlong into precipices, did not Despair withhold them, and by know∣ing their weaknesses, divert them from their rash enterprizes: Hope engageth us too easily in a danger, but then we must praise Despair which finds a means to free us from it.

Our Wheedle always implores the assistance of Despair before things are gone too far, and re∣duced to an extremity. If Princes took this course, and so measure their forces before they under∣take a war, they would not be enforced to make a dishonourable peace. If they know their forces inferiour to those of their enemies, where∣by the advantage lyes not on their side, Despair, wisely managed, causeth them to retreat, and this Passion repairing the faults of Hope and Audacity makes them keep their Soldiers till a∣nother time, when they may assuredly promise themselves the Victory; for Despair is more cautious than couragious, and aims more at the safety than glory of a Nation.

In short, these are the two Principal uses are to be made of this Passion. First, Despair in its birth is fearful, and hath no other design than to divert the Soul from the vain seeking

after an impossible good; this is a great piece of prudence and policy, to keep aloof from a difficult good, which we think we cannot com∣pass. Secondly, and lastly, when the mischief is extream, and the danger is so great as it can∣not be evaded, then must we make a Virtue of necessity, and give battail to an enemy, which Hope it self durst not assail, it often plucks the Lawrel from the Conquerours head, and per∣forms actions which may pass for Miracles.

Of FEAR.

NAture seems to have given us two Passions (Hope and Fear) for our Counsellours in the diverse adventures of our life; the first is with∣out doubt more pleasing, but Fear, the second, is more faithful; Hope flatters, to deceive us; Fear frightens, to secure us. For Fear is natural wisdom, which frequently frees us from danger by making us apprehensive thereof; thence we grow shye, and affrightned with the evils she discovers: She studies not what is past, save only to know what is to come, and she governs the present time, only to assure her self of the future, which draws along with it a pro∣digious train of adventures, which cause a thou∣sand alterations in Individual men; so as suturity is the chief object of wisdom, which considers

the other differences of time, only that she may the better judge of this. The time to come is as doubtful, as conceal'd, and therefore it behoves every man to look out sharply to foresee a danger approaching, and to avoid it; to discern a little Cloud, but a hands breadth, which brings a storm with it next akin to an Hurricane.

Much may be said of this prudent, and pro∣vident Passion, but I shall refer you to those who have writ largely upon that subject, and pass to another sort of fear, which some call Cowardise, of which the Wheedle must have a special care he seem not guilty, or tainted therewith: if he be, farewel all plots, and crafty projects, for he will be the contempt of all men, and be like a Foot-ball kickt from Parish to Parish, till they have lost him.

To prevent this insufferable mischief, the Wheedle (though the rankest Coward living) must indeavor by all means imaginable to seem Stout and Couragious; he must look big, and his Speech must be conformable; he must con∣tinually make the Coward the subject of his raillery, and yet have a care of provoking the man that will fight: Amongst innocent harmless things he may thunder where he is sure no danger, or mischief will ensue, and Lighten the reckon∣ing on them in conclusion: this way of hussing (with the dreadful appearance of a Toledo blade)

hath made many a tame Fop go home without ever a penny in his pocket, well contended, and glad he came off so, though they made him swal∣low so many false Dice, as had like to have choakt him, and not satisfied with this, gave him the Box to boot. In the next place I should treat of Choler and Sorrow, which last Passion is in opposi∣tion to Delight, but I shall desist, having spoak already of them in those Chapters which con∣tain the Temperaments.

The Policy of the Passions briefly sum'd up.

SInce Men by Nature are addicted to Con∣versation, and one dependeth upon another, therefore it is a business of importance for a man to know how to second or cross other mens af∣fections, how we may please, or displease them; making them our Friends, or Enemies: but since the Subject is infinite, I will only set down some general Rules, whereby the Wheedle makes his advantage in all Societies what ever.

First all men (commonly) are pleas'd with them whom they see affected with those Passions whereunto they are subject and inclined. The reason of this Rule is this; all likeliness causeth love; it follows therefore that he who would advantagiously please must apparel himself with the affections of them he converseth withal; love,

where they love, and hate, where they hate, no matter whether real or pretended; sooth∣ing of other mens humours (so that it be not discovered to be Flattery) is the path that leads men into an universal friendship, and how ad∣vantagious a general friendship is, I will leave it to any one to judge; out of this Rule may be deduced this

Second, which ought no less to be observed in conversation than the former; that men usu∣ally hate those, who they know to be of con∣trary Passions; hence comes that Proverb, He that hateth whom I love, how can he love me? Fire and fire may, but fire and water will never agree.

Thirdly credulity must be avoided, having danger continually for its attendant, and yet there must be a seeming belief; as we must not be∣lieve every thing, so we must have a care of be∣lieving nothing that is said; there is a mediocri∣ty to be observed, you may hear and say (in a thing that is very doubtful) it may be so, but never conclude any thing to be so, till you have evident demonstrations thereof before your eyes; a crafty proposal (weli backt) may make a man believe things contrary to sense, and reason; where∣fore it behoves every man to stand upon his guard when an overture of advantage is made: every man is for himself, and he that hath attain'd to the greatest height in the Art of Perswasion, is capable

of Out-Wheedling all the rest.

Fourthly, let judgment be suspended where a question is demanded, or evaded, and put off upon some other, by whose arguments you may find his weakness, and means to strengthen your own.

Fifthly, There is no opposing any vehement Passion by reprehension, or indignation; the Whee∣dle always complies with it, or says nothing, or wisely withdraws the matter of anger out of sight.

Sixthly, no man ought to be employ'd to any Office, nor put upon any design, act, or exercise contraty to his humour, passion, and inclination. This observation very much concerns all sorts of Persons, in all Professions, and Occupations; Masters in the employment of Servants; Pa∣rents in the education of their Children; School∣masters in the instruction of their Scholars; Vide Examen d'los Ingenios; the Trial of Wits in En∣glish, &c. and every one knows a Play must be rightly cast, or it cannot be so well acted, as to Merit an Applause.

Seventhly, and this Rule hath a respect to great Persons, who seldom resist their Passions, therefore if a man once understand their inordi∣nate affections, he may be very well assured to have gained much ground in prevailing with them. Whosoever then intends to work upon

such a person addicted to this or that affection, to win upon him, he must foster up such fancies in him; if delighted in Musick, he must furnish him with Voices, or instruments; if Venereally inclined, Pimp for him, and prostitute his Wife, rather than lose an opportunity for preferment; if he delights in riding, he must play the Iockey, and show him horses well shaped, far Fetcht and dear Bought; if in hunting, he must pro∣cure him Dogs; If he disesteems his own Coun∣try-breed, he must present to his View such as are really so, yet must swear that they were stoln from several Noblemen in France, brought hither with great labour and expence, and for no other intent than his Recreation. If his delight con∣sist in books, he must bring him the Annual Cata∣logues of Franckfort Mart, or what are printed elswhere, that out of them all he may pick what is most agreable to his study; and if he have so much ingenie to play the part of a cunning Book∣seller, he may recommend waste paper for com∣mendable pieces, and with a little prejudice to the Buyers time, he shall not only have the large thanks of the Seller, for vending his bad commo∣dities but reap some more substantial benefit to himself.

To these general Rules let me add these cauti∣ons, which ought to be imprinted in all mens memories.

Before the Ingenious, and Judicious, beware of showing either Extravagancy, or Stupidity.

Before the Wise, or Considerate, seem not Heedless or Sottish.

Before the Prudent, and well advised, seem neither Simple, nor Crafty.

Before the Diligent, be neither Slothful, nor over hasty.

Before Just and Honest men, be not Mischie∣vous.

Before the Modest, be not Bold, or Impudent.

Before the Temperate, be not Immoderate.

Before the Religious, be not Profain or Impious.

Before the Faithful, and the down-right man, avoid Flattery.

Before the Affable, and the Civil, show no Rusticity.

Before the Continent, be not Petulant.

Before the Liberal, be not Avaritious, or Co∣vetous.

Before the Compassionate, show no symptoms of Cruelty.

Before the Frugal, be not Prodigal.

Before the Moderate, be not Voluptuous.

Before the Humble, or Ambitious, be not Proud, or Lofty.

Before the Magnanimous, be not Presumptu∣ous, or Pusillanimous.

Before the Cheerful, be not Sowr, or austere.

Before the Serious, play not the Mimick, or Buffoon.

Some Centuries of such like Sentences might be here inserted, which I pretermit for brevity sake; hastning to the discovery of the practices of the several Wheedles of the times, according to each Sex and Profession; but before I enter upon it, I shall conclude the preceding Theory with a short account of Conversation.