To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
THis mysterious word Wheedle, without offence to the signification, in my opi∣nion pleads no great antiquity, neither can it boast it self the legitimate off∣spring of any learned Language. I neither find it registred in the Mouldy Glossaries, nor an inha∣bitant in the new World of Words. Since then the English Expositors give us neither the etymology
nor signification of this word, we must apply our selves to the Canting Dictionary, as the ultimum re∣fugium of our better information; where you shall find the word, Wheedle, imports a subtil in∣sinuation into the nature, humours and inclinations of such we converse with, working upon them so effectu∣ally, that we possess them with a belief that all our actions and services tend to their pleasure and profit, whereas it is but seemingly so, that we may wo••k on them our real advantage. Vid. English Rogue, The Devil's Cabinet broke open, &c. VVheedling, quasi wheeling, inde Wealings near Flushing a refuge in necessity.
THe art of Wheedling is a Science, wherein is taught, by conversation, a general knowledg of the Humours, Passions, and Inclinations of male and female, according to their several Ages, Sexes, Professions and Occupations, whereby the Professors of this profound Art, suiting their de∣signs to the nature of the Person, and Profession, they take effect according to their desires and ex∣pectations. Advantage is the soul or center of
this Art, regarding no other interest but its own, and subservient to none but for present or future profit; the practice hereof is extreamly bene∣ficial to all persons, and in all places, both in Ci∣ty and Country.
This Art of Wheedling, which some would have called Complaisance, is in plain terms, nothing else but the Art of Insinuation, or Dissimulation, com∣pounded of mental reservation, seeming patience and humility, (self-obliging) civility, and a more than common affability, all which club to please, and consequently to gain by conversation.
This profitable (if rightly practised) Art of Dissimulation hath something more in it than bare∣ly wealth, which perswades men to follow its dictates, or directions, for the welfare of the whole body depends, and moves upon its hinges; this admirable Art, by a secret and most power∣ful charm, calms the rage and greatest displea∣sures of the most Potent, disarms our enemies, when in the greatest fury, and wrests the sword out of that hand, that is just about sheathing it in a bloody, fleshy scabberd; this and much more it does by feigned submissions, and by pretending an untainted entire friendship, whereas, if there be not downright enmity, yet there is no other respect for the person than what is in outward ap∣pearance, to engage him either to lay aside his present anger, or perswade, and oblige him to
some kindness extraordinary. VVherefore the Wheedle, as he must have a care of falling into too low a condescention, so in a special manner let him avoid all sharp contradictions, and all his negatives must little differ from his affirmatives. How could the Town-shifts live as they do, were it not for their applauding things done by the glit∣tering Fops, though unworthy of every honest mans approbation, imitating those Greeks, of whom that ingenuous tell-troth Satyrist Juvenal gives so pleasant a relation; these men (says he) will conform themselves to all sorts of company; do you laugh, they will strive to laugh lowder; if you are pensive and sad, and prone to weep, they shall instantly deluge themselves in tears; if you complain of cold, they shiver, as in the extremity of a Tertian Ague-fit; and if you do but say the weather's very warm, they will cry out they are swelter'd with heat.
—Rides? Majore cachinno Concutitur: flet, si lachrymas conspexit amici, Nec doiet, igniculum Brumae si tempore poscas, Accipit Endromidem; si dixeris, aestuo, sudat. Juven. Sat. 4.
If you tell a lye, though never so grosly false, they shall swear to the truth of it, without a Sub∣paena; in the middle of your discourse they shall
say; 'tis so indeed, not in the least understand∣ing what you meant. In short, without feeling any of your passions, or understanding any of your actions, they appear more affected and concerned than your self, and never fail to compose and con∣form their countenances to yours. They are like a fish called a Polypus, of whom it is storied, that it hath the power of converting its colour into that which is nearest it, and most contiguous for self-preservation; these Protei of this loose age can turn themselves into any shape, so that the conversion of the form will produce any profit or advantage.
ANtiquity hath reason to say, that the case is the same with Sciences, as with Seeds, and Plants, which never bring forth any thing, if they meet not with a soil fit for them: it is certain, that there is not any wherein that Truth may be more evident than in this Science, which is not only a bare Art of Wheedling, or dissembling with Men, but likewise an Art or Science, wherein every one is taught the knowledge of Men,
through Conversation, and by their several Tem∣peraments, Inclinations, and Passions; for it will become barren, and of no advantage, if it meets not with a Genius, and dispositions necessary thereto. As few Men are qualified for this Art, so some Mens Professions, and others tender Con∣sciences will not permit, nay, rather absolutely deter them from the Study and Practice thereof. There is no man so fit to make use of this damna∣ble Science, as he that hath Shipwrack'd his Con∣science in the tempestuous discovery of an Estate; whose mind must be illuminated with secret lights, and guides of some invisible Daemon, dire∣cting him through the difficult ways, and various Meanders of this Diabolical Art and Science. This black Hellish Brat must be cloth'd like an Angel of light, and when he prays, it must be to this purpose,
Let me now dissect this Wheedle, or take him in pieces, and you shall find his principal Mem∣bers are, Reservation, Dissimulation, Flattery, pretended Patience and Humility, Civility, Affa∣bility,
Plausability, with other ingredients hereafter mentioned, which make up his composition.
But before I insist upon all these singly, it is requisite to inform you, that it is impossible for a Wheedle, or Town-shift to exercise any of those qualities to his advantage, unless he have a good natural Genius, which must be likewise improv'd, by Experience and Languages, though there are a great many insinuating Rascals, who successfully Wheedle only by common sence, with the help of a little reason; wherefore in the first place I shall discover what Genius a Wheedle ought to have, and how qualified by Art.
IT is not to be call'd in question, that no man is more capable of all manner of business, than he, who having good natural parts, is indued also with a competent stock of Learning, guilt over with forreign speculation and experience.
A good Genius is able to do much of it self, but it will act wonders, when Learning, Lan∣guage, and Experience are inoculated therein. Wit alone, though natural, yet if active, and acute, can apparel it self with more variable delightful colours, and suit it self with more
pleasant resemblances, than the Polypus, or Cha∣maeleon; yet still Learning ought to be the fewel to the fire of this wit; for, if it wants the feeding, it will eat out, and consume it self.
Moreover if this good Genius be not frequently practised with men, and brush'd over with inge∣nious conversation, it will become so soil'd, and dustv, that little shall appear in it legible, but the Characters of Ignorance, and Rusticity.
Excellent parts without Learning, may be said to be in Ore, unwrought, untry'd, which Letters, Time and Experience fashion and refine. Such a man so qualified hath good metal in the inside, though rough, which only wants scowring, and pollishing without; and he that hath these roughet parts made smooth, and filed, out-vies all other splendors of this world, and is the greatest bene∣fit to the Universe, and Himself.
Such a person whose natural and acquired parts contend for ptiority in excellence, scorns these his better parts should play the Bawd to any base action, or that they should Pimp for him by an ignoble Wheedle, or Insinuation for preferment: He is happy enough already in what he enjoys; and his happiness is the greater in this, that he cannot be dispossess'd of what he holds in Capite, which gives him so great a satis∣faction in the contemplation of that perfection he hath brought it to by his indefatigable study and
industry, that no worldly honour or advancement can raise him to an higher pitch of content∣ment.
It is the Pretender to Learning (having an in∣different Genius) of whom I shall discourse, which is the first qualification of our Wheedle; a Fellow, who must so well act the part of a Scholar-Mountebank, that his Art may prove other mens delusions. He must be trick'd up in all the accoutrements of Learning, having the terms of Art of most Sciences, and his mouth stuft with variety of Sentences, (like a Juglers with small Ribbonds of several colours) collected from Classical Authors, as well Poetical as Historical, which he may disgorge upon all occasions to the admiration of the Non-intelligent. And the bet∣ter to perswade some, that he is a very contem∣plative man, and a profound Scholar, when he walks it is near some publick place, where he may be seen with a Book in his hand; if in the Church, he hath a Greek Testament, or Hebrew Bible in his Pocket, which he will not trouble himself to open, unless he observe some stander by look over him.
In Company, more learned than himself, he hath the wit to hold his tongue; for though he hath no real Learning, yet he hath so much cun∣ning not to let the World know it, to avoid being laugh'd at for an Insignifico; thus this poor
Devil fools himself most, by endeavouring to cheat others; for he conceits nothing in Learning, but the opinion, which he endeavours to purchase without it; whereas did he rightly understand himself, he might with less labour cure his igno∣rance, than go about to conceal it.
To the intent he may pre-possess his Auditors with a good opinion of him, he is still citing for himself, That a Candle should not be hid under a Bushel, and for his part he will be sure not to hide his own, though it be but a Snuff, or Rush-Candle.
Some good parts we will allow him to have, of whom he is over-sensible, and is no Niggard in displaying them to advantage; like a Lottery, that shows more than belongs properly to the Master, and is like it to in this, that nothing parts from it, or him, but that the Trumpet sounds, fill'd with the breath of vanity and vain-glory.
By these Artifices, viz. Terms of Art, scraps of Latine, and scrapings from ingenious Com∣pany, he hopes to gain a splendid reputation in the world; he is a great Plagiary of Tavern, and Dramatick wit, which he useth to bring in upon such and such hints; he crowds his memo∣ry with new Songs, witty Sayings, and far fercht A-la-mode words, and seldom fails of an op∣portunity to wind them in.
These are his accomplishments, which (with
the good Armour of his face, which is Cannon proof, for he is dash'd out of any thing, sooner than countenance) he hopes will bring him into the acquaintance of a great many, and Great men too. With whomsoever he gets acquainted he Registers their Names, Lodgings, and Habitations, least he should lose the least hope of doing himself a kindness; for that end he carries a Table book in his Pocket, in which he writes every days ad∣vantageous promise made him, or whatsoever observations he made of any mans words, or actions, which may tend to the future benefit of himself, or friend, if it be possible for him to entertain a friendship for any person.
He carefully observes duely, and seasonably to perform his visits or attendance; and thus at last Preferment stumbles on him, not so much for desert, but because he is still in the way. The third branch of this first (and threefold) qualification of our Wheedle is Travel, with the profits attending.
St. Augustine calls this world a great book, (then Men are the Epitome's) and certainly none study these books so much as the Tra∣veller. They who never stir from home, can hardly be said to have read a leaf of the greater, and are in a manner as ignorant as that Taunton woman, who having never been a mile out of the place of her Nativity, and
being married to one living about twenty miles from that place, as she travel'd to her new home, still cry'd out, John, John, What do'st mean to do? carry me to the worlds end? Bringing her home with much adoe, he told her (according to the best of his knowledge) that the world was a hundred times, at least, as wide, and large as the ground they had rid over; to which she re∣ply'd, John, If thou wer't not my Husband, chud zay, thou art a greater Lyar than the world thou talk'st on.
'Tis true, a man may read men at home, but if he go no farther, he shall never have the repu∣tation of a man generally read, but be like that dull fellow in Pliny, who could never learn to count above five. Homer sets forth &V;lisses, as the wisest of all the Grecians, because he had travel'd much, and had seen Multorum hominum mores, & &V;rbes: thus Seneca saith, Imperitum est animal homo, & sine magna experientia rerum, si circumscribatur Natalis soli sui fine. Man is a raw unskilful animal, and void of experience, who is still confin'd within the narrow limits of his own Country.
As Travel furnisheth man with universal know∣ledge, so it acquaints him with hardship, and so adapts him to indure patiently whatever mean condition perverse fortune hath thrown upon him, till his own wit by Services, and insinuation shall
redeem him from that slavery, and place him to his better satisfaction. It was an excellent saying of Seneca; Malo tibi male esse, quam molliter; I had rather thou shouldst be sick, than soft. It is reported that the Coral Tree is neither red, nor hard, till taken from its Maritine habitation; nor can man, in my opinion, make the best advantage of his knowledge, till he hath in some manner imitated the Romans, in putting out their Chil∣dren to be Nursed by Lacedemonian women, till they were three years old, then they were remo∣ved to their Unckles, till seven, or ten, then they sent them to Tuscany to be instructed in Reli∣gion, and at last into Greece to study Philosophy.
Now what greater advantage can accrue to him that would live meerly by his wits, than di∣versity of tongues, by which he shall understand, and be understood, nay and beloved by all Na∣tions? This advantage travel produceth, in that it doth in some manner take off that aborigenal curse the Confusion of Tongues, which is such a curse indeed, that it makes men who are of one kind, and made to be sociable, so strangely to fly one another, that as an eminent Father of the Church said, A man had rather be with his dog, than with a man whose language he understands not. Nay, this diversity of languages makes a wise man pass for a fool in a strange Country, and a fool to pass for a wise man, when he speaks that language
perfectly to them who understand it but in part, or who have but some small glimmering light to lead them into the depth thereof. This makes the poor wandring Exotick thrive indifferently where e're he comes, and Monsieurs services cour∣ted for the French Tongue, though he hath nei∣ther wit not person to render him more accep∣table, though ragged; this soon metamorphoseth him into the garb of the times, and by a narrow inspection you shall find it his Imprimis, and all the Items; whose fantastical cringes to Ladies are his daily study, and only devotions; and though born with the art of talking idly, yet some female French admirers love him the better for it, being by that the more suitable to their com∣pany. My own experience informs me this; for I knew a Gentlewoman of good quality, who would not admit of the caresses and courtship of her Lover in English, and could not prove suc∣cesful in his love, till he made his addresses in a foreign Dialect. Nay, such is the love and re∣spect we bear all Trades-men what-ever, who speak any other Language than our own, or go under the notion of Out-landish, that we desert our own Countrey-men, though every way as in∣genuous in any Art or Mystery, to follow them, which is the general and just complaint of thou∣sand of Artificers in the City, and through the whole Kingdom.
VVe may farther understand the advantages of knowing and speaking more Languages than our own from the general Itch, which possesseth the better sort of people to be acquainted with them; so that now adays you cannot come into any mix'd Company, where a Pantaloon, or ha∣bit a la mode, endeavours to hide the imperfe∣ction of its Master, but that you must imagine Babel is revived; for every one endeavours to gloss his slender parts by those Languages, he hath learned by Travail, or otherwise; some snuffling out the French, others blustring out the Dutch, as if they intended to blow their Cheeks into Bag-pipes; whilst others are endeavouring to make the lofty High-Dutch to pass for Greek amongst the Ignorant. Now he that can best suit any Language that is spoke in Society, by his good proficiency therein, is sure to make a conquest of one heart at least; if withall he apply himself to his wonted flattery, by possessing the speaker (though what he delivers be imperfect in sence, for want of words, as well as in pronunciation) that he speaks the Language like a Native: This (though false applause) oftentimes so swells him, causing him to look so high that he cannot see the hand of Mr. Wheedle, who by this means, most certainly and securely picks his Pocket.
And here I cannot omit the relation, how one was soundly basted for his arrogance and igno∣rance
upon the like account; This Gentleman was a Grammar Frenchman, who was flatter'd by his Wheedling Master, that he had made a won∣derful, and more than common proficiency in the French Tongue, for so short a time; this unme∣rĭted praise did not only melt the Money in Mon∣sieur English his Pocket, but likewise prompted, and emboldned him to engage with all French Discourses he hapned to meet with, glorying in that courtly embellishment; it hapned unfortu∣nately that he fell into some Company, where was a Gentleman born in France, who could speak little or no English, but speaking all toge∣ther his Mother tongue, he was applauded by this talkative Fop (not knowing justly what Countryman he was) in these words, Monsieur ma foy vous parlez Francois comme un Naturel: which is, you speak French like a Natural: in∣tending to say, you speak French like a Native of France; Monsieur at first, and second time took little notice of it, but the other persisting in that abusive Encomium, in a very great passion, call'd him Bougre, Jean Foutre, and I know not what beside, and not satisfied with that he did so beat and kick him, that he could neither speak French or English for half an hour after.
The French have a significant Proverb to this purpose, Parlez bien, ou parlez rien, speak well, or dont speak at all; which is somewhat like the
Irish, Aber began, aber ghemah; Speak a little, and speak it well; this caution our Wheedle ought to take special notice of; for if he do not, instead of advancing his reputation, he may either lessen or destroy it. Wherefore if he speak to the judicious, let him speak nothing but what is proper, and if prest in a discourse beyond his ability, there are twenty slights by which he may shift his neck out of the collar, by his humble submission, acknowledging his insufficiency to proceed farther; and by this yielding a conquest to others, he may probably gain an absolute victory over their hearts, or at least he shall have the title of a modest man conferr'd upon him.
Though the Italian and Spanish are elegant Languages, and very useful in the building up a structure of Knowledge, yet the French is more generally entertained by our Gentry, who had need to have good lungs; for a long sentence seems by the pronunciation to be but one word: it is my opinion, by a long converse among them one might understand them by the gestures of their body, and motion of their fingers, as well as by their tongue, they abound so much in both whilst they are discoursing; but as for the gen∣tile shrug, (as they call it) it may be mistaken by the Scotch for a lousie remove.
To conclude, besides the aforesaid profits
which attend a Traveller, it makes most affairs succesful he takes in hand; it enricheth him with a world of experimental knowledg; it makes him an hardy and knowing Souldier; it enables him to be a spye in all companies; for by pretending ignorance in the Language they speak, and mingling with them, he finds out their designs, and can cross or cherish them as he thinks it may tend to his advantage.
Lastly, it makes him welcome to all men, sought after by his betters, and listned to with admiration by his inferiors, especially if he have the glib faculty of sliding over his relations and reports, and thus whilst he lugs them by the ears, he hath full hold of their hearts, which by pru∣dence he may form to the assistance of his neces∣sity, or most important affairs.
THE Pilot that steers him steddy in the turbu∣lent Sea of worldly business, and with safety too, amidst the most subtil practices and contri∣vances of men, is his reservation, concealing him∣self from the knowledg of others, whilst he is most busily employed in the knowledg of other mens affairs. He is like a cunning Gamester, who whilst he prudently conceals his own Game,
he hath an eye of his own prying into his adver∣saries hand, or another employed to that pur∣pose, by a stander by, his Confident. Shewing of Cards before they come to be plaid, occa∣sions not only loss to him that so imprudently doth it, but also to those whose interest is twisted and engaged with his; by keeping close his hand, as at Put, he makes you believe his Game is bet∣ter than it is; for without boldness you will sel∣dom win at that sport, putting boldly many times at a (careless) six, or seven, when the ad∣versary, by that confidence, believes it a Duce, or Tray, and not daring to see it, is a loser thereby: thus his good clothes are his Coat∣cards, which he will give you a glimpse of, that you may suspect his hand is better furnished than it is, but fearing the loss of his designed success will permit you to inspect no farther.
He holds this as an undeniable maxim, that no wise man will put confidence in him, who at any rate will discover himself, and fearing from hence, that he may be left to himself, void of ad∣vice in the necessity of his affairs, he will keep his mouth close shut, though he hazard a drown∣ing within, for want of opening the fludgate of his body to give some vent to that ocean of li∣quor he drank, for the glibber carrying on some notable design. If he discourse any thing, it shall be about matters indifferent; and if he pre∣tend
to tell you a secret, engaging you to silence, it is only to try your trust, for it is so well contri∣ved, he matters not what man hears it.
I have often been ready to laugh out-right when I have seen him affronted or abused with expressions more than civil: in bridling of his Cholerick just resentment; Oh how he hath chew'd upon the bit; flesh and blood would not swallow those words; those bitter Pills the stomach rifes against; yet prudence made him do it, though he prick'd his chops, like the Asse eating thistles: reason told him he could not do amiss in hiding the resentment of such af∣fronts and offences; because it gave him not on∣ly the better means of revenge, if the matter de∣served it, but also to prevent a further provo∣cation, lest he who hath offended him, should bury him in greater mischiefs, thereby to dis∣enable him for ever from prosecuting a revenge. Not but that he knows there are some occasions wherein silence would be suspected; for where a great offence is committed, and the person suf∣fering is silent, any rational man will look upon him either as a sensless lump of stupidity, or that his anger is only stop'd for the present, that it may break out with greater violence in the execution of its vengance: wherefore he will sometimes express his displeasure, but in such a manner, that the lightness of the complaint may
make him believe, that for the future, the re∣membrance of it shall be obliterated, and no revenge shall ensue hereafter.
VVhatever he hears material, he treasures up in his breast, and is hardly induced to make any one the Secretary of his intelligence: He never communicates any thing of that stock, but when he sees a palpable advantage will accrue there∣by; for if he discover any thing said, or is to be done to the injury or great prejudice of his supposed Friend, he does it only to insinuate himself into Credit and Confidence, and when the report is found true, if he be a grateful man, he cannot go without reward.
Sometimes he finds it necessary to separate two, by forging Lyes one against the other, so subtilly contrived, that by circumstances they shall believe them real truths: This he does by pretending a real Friendship to both, and no prejudice to either, till he hath made the wounds of their Friendship incurable, and then is his time to step in, and supply the place of him he lately dispossest.
More shall be said hereafter, in what particu∣lar cases this reserved humour stands him most in stead; and therefore I shall pass to the next Member, which is Dissimulation, none of the least requisite Qualifications of a Wheedle.
HE thinks there is as absolute a necessity of dissembling his words, as saying his pray∣ers, and is never better pleas'd with them, than when they look like Janus, with two Faces, or like the Devils Oracles, with a double constru∣ction: And thus he will protest how entirely he loves you, when he hates you mortally; much like a Neopolitan, who will imbrace you with one arm, and with the other hand stab you to the heart. Should he be really a servant to as many as he seems to be, when he crys Your Humble Servant, he would have as many Ma∣sters as London's Conflagration consumed Houses. To all these he vows an absolute Command, but they must be possest of more Rhetorick than ever Quintillian was Master of, if they can en∣treat him to do any thing but what shall tend to his own advantage; if you had followed him as close at the heels as I have done, you would not forbear smiling to observe how many he hath beguiled with his kind proffers, who had not the discretion to distinguish between a general promise, and that which is particular; for all his proffers, as they are universal, so he looks not upon them as binding: For example, he
protests solemnly he will do any thing for you; but come to the push, he will do nothing but what future profit shall perswade him to; ask to borrow money of him, he tells you he was obliged by his VVife, before Marriage, to the contrary; desire him to be bound with you, the Scrivener shall have an Item from him not to take him as Security sufficient; if arrested, en∣treat him by Note to be your Bail, and ten to one he will send you word himself, that he is not within. Never mind his promises; for, as Mr. Earle saith in his Characters, he accounts them but a kind of unmannerly words, and in the expectation of your manners not to exact them, if you do, he wonders at your ill breed∣ing, that you cannot distinguish between what is spoken, and what is meant.
He may be fitly compared to the civil Ghosts Aeneas met with in his descent to Hell, that were Friends to talk with, and Men to look on, but grasping them he found them Air which glided through his Fist. One great part of his time he imploys in the study of pleasing expressions, and fine phrases, of which he is no Niggard, but keeps open house with them for all Comers and Goers; if any one is taken with them, and so mistakes the Broacher of them for a Friend, in∣stead of Juno he grasps an empty Cloud, for these are the baits he catches Gudgeons with, and the
gaudy Artificial Flies the unwary rash Trout is betray'd by to its destruction. If he get any one by the Ear, his breath is so infectious, that it is ten to one he Fly-blows it, and Maggots his un∣derstanding; and from the corrupting of his manners, he works him into what form he plea∣ses, and frames him as he list; and when he hath effected his designs to the utmost, all the Fop-Gallant can say, is, that he was cheated in a very fair obliging manner, and abused with the greatest respect.
Take a view of him as he walks in the streets, and you shall observe his company, if it be not good, yet it shall be gaudy; and who can di∣stinguish men by their out-sides? external ap∣pearances frequently deceive our imaginations, and hood-wink our understandings; goodness of Apparel frequently belyes the greatness of an Estate, in telling the VVorld, that the Globes of the Door-posts being guilt without, the house contains nothing but Gold within.
Sometimes this Wheedling Rascal will insinu∣ate himself into Society that is really Virtuous, and Noble, and then his greatest ambition is to be seen, and useth an hundred stratagems to be publickly taken notice of in that company; for this he knows must pass for a Rule infallible, that men shall go under the same account, and character of the company they consort with: Pares cum pari∣bus
facilimè congregantur; like to like, quoth the Devil to the Colliar; and therefore our Wheed∣ling Polititian will never appear abroad, if he can help it, accompanied with persons, whose ha∣bits do, or actions have rendred them scanda∣lous, or villanous, fearing lest the censure of the people should justly fall on him for such As∣sociation. Mistake me not, he never desired to be good, but he would not seem bad, and for no other reason, than that he finds it a prejudice to business; and therefore he is a constant Hear∣er, and goes to Church, not for any love he bears to it, but for fear of censuring-Neighbours. Oaths he hates, because they are unprofitable; and when he hears them belcht through a profane sulphurous mouth, he flies from them faster, than Satan at the Name of Jesus.
Lyes he looks not on as half so sinful, and some∣times questions whether they are a sin or not, when a round sum hath been the Product of their fal∣sity; yet he hates to tell a Lye so, that every one may take notice of it: He lays his Lyes close, and hath always some pretence in readi∣ness to justifie them; if he fears he shall be de∣tected, he plays the Hocus, and like a Jugler with his Ball, crys Praesto, be gone; then by a quick conveyance tells you he hath none of it, but such a one hath it, and so shifts off the in∣famy to another. By these means, and a thou∣sand
other Wheedling tricks, (too many to insert in this Chapter) doth this crafty Dissembler en∣deavour to palliate his own faults, and by a seeming Sanctity obtain the good Opinion of the people, that he may cheat them more infallibly, and with less suspition.
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
Seipsum nullus fatetur esse malum.
There is another sort of Wheedle, (of whom I shall treat of in his due place) but he is a Fellow than is debaucht in the highest degree, and yet he too would fain have some excuse for his sins and trespasses, though profanely; for if any one tax him with Venery, and condemn him for making his body a Burnt-offering to his in∣flamed Lust, he will seek to justifie, and acquit himself with this Plea, and to seem wittily wick∣ed, asks you, What did David ail when he com∣plained of his bones, and his sore ran down in the nigh? If that won't stop the mouths of his Accu∣sers, but they still reproach him for a common Placket-hunter, whom Plague, nor Pox, no nor the dreadful sight of his late Fluxing Chirur∣geon can stop in the carier of his Lust and VVho∣ring, he then pleads, that though Solomon was the wisest of men, yet was he over-rul'd by VVo∣men, and so addicted to their Society, and de∣lighted
in variety, that the House wherein he kept them for his own use, exceeded in great∣ness the Grand Seraglio, as much as London doth St. Albans: if he build Sconces, and run every where on score; then he pleads that S. Paul pawn'd his Cloak. This is he that is like a Tum∣bler, and dares show tricks of activity upon the very brink and Precipice of Hell, and play at hide and seek with the Devil, till at last he cat∣ches him in his Clutches, as the Cat does her wanton prey, and so spoils his sport on a sud∣den, when possest with the greatest security.
THe next thing we shall inspect is the Flat∣tery of this Philautist, or Wheedle, where∣by he captivates Fools, neither can the wisest at all times escape him; for he is the Picture of a Friend, and by that means is mistaken for what he is not; and as it is commonly observed, that Pictures usually flatter, so he ever shews fairer than the substance; and although there be a vast disproportion between him and a true Friend, yet in all outward appearances of Friendship he is more pleasing, because he seems to love for no other end than advantage; whereas a true Friend, unbyassed by interest, will take the li∣berty
to tell his Friend what faults are observe∣able in him, whereas he dare not do it for fear of offence, and so will not loose his hold, for fear of losing his design.
And that he may not have his labour for his pains, by undertaking any fruitless work, he will never yoke himself with one whom For∣tune hath rendred incapable of losing any thing worth the taking notice of; his aim is at such who stand aloft, or such whose plentiful con∣dition tempt his pains to deceive them. Such men are his Books, which he continually stu∣dies; he plumbs their understanding, then gets a perfect knowledge of their humours, inclina∣tions, passions, &c. having learn'd them so well, that he knows them better than themselves: by this door, by this breach he hath made in their affections, he enters upon their Souls, of which he is able at last to take the very mark, or im∣pression, and fashion his own by it, like a false Key to open all your choicest secrets. Having thus riggled himself into a familiar acquaintance with your inward Faculties, he then makes his affections jump even with yours; nay, he will be so perfectly skill'd in all those he intends to bubble, that he will be before-hand with them with their thoughts, and be able, in a manner, to suggest them to themselves. He never com∣mends any thing to you, but what he knows you
like; and what you like, if not considerable, he will strain his Credit to purchase to make you a Present thereof for his future benefit: A piece of policy I used when I was a Child, to borrow pence of my Brothers to buy my Pa∣rents Fairings, or New-years Gifts, whereby my Pennies multiplied into Shillings. This, as a Juvenile practice to Relations, is not excusable only, but allowable; but where Gifts are o∣therwise bestow'd, as snares to intrap the Recei∣ver, which he takes as men do Vomits or Pills, which undoubtedly will work with him, to the purgation and clearing his Pocket of a sum ten times the value, it is not. Martiall complains ingeniously of such fordid actions to Gargilia∣nus, Epig. lib. 1.
He will borrow money of you to try how good his credit is, and he will be sure to pay it
according to his time, that thereby he may have the opportunity of borrowing a larget sum he ne're intends to pay; and he knows afterwards how to keep out of the danger of an Arrest, by changing Lodgings, as often as VVhores change Names, and Lovers.
To conclude with the Flattery of our Whee∣dle-Master-General; as he takes an Inventory of your humours, inclinations, and passions, so he hath a Catalogue of your Friends and Foes strangely Registred in his Memory, not easie to be eradicated. To your Friends he speaks no∣thing but Panegyricks in your behalf, knowing they will tell you how much beholding you are to him for his good Opinion; to your Enemies all his discourse is nothing but aspersions, and reproaches, and whatsoever he gathers from them, tending to your disrepute and detriment, he hastily runs to inform you, with all the ag∣gravating circumstances the Devil can invent: in requital of this kindness you cannot but esteem him your Friend, especially when you hear him say, I protest I speak not this out of any pre∣judice I have entertain'd against such and such, but only that I hate to hear my Friend abus'd, and I not tell him of it.
He hath one pretty knack in making a man believe himself to be a very wise man, and of a deep judgment, by framing or forging a secret,
which with a strict injunction to silence, he whispers in his ear, and then beseecheth his ad∣vice and counsel, and whatsoever he says, is perswaded. To what he speaks, he listens with as much attention, as a Malefactor recei∣ving Sentence; and if he object any thing, it shall be some trifle on purpose to be confuted, and then with a small elevated cast of the eye, he swears, I never thought of that, which is as good counsel as the whole World can afford; and then with a smiling hug, and a thousand thanks, he vows he will follow it to an hairs breadth; and taking his leave, he never thinks of it after∣ward, unless askt the question.
If he happen to be in the company of VVit∣pretenders, where he espies a fit thing to be made a Friend, and a Fool of, he narrowly watcheth every word which drops from his mouth; and if casually any ingenious Froth should hang at the corner of his Jaw, he bids the whole Company to take notice of it, whilst he is ready to burst with an over-flowing strain∣ed laughter; and left the others treacherous memory should not treasure up this Golden (worthless) saying, he remembers it for him to all Companies, and will laugh longer again than any can laugh with him: Rides? Majore cachinno consutitur. Juven. This causless laugh∣ter puts one in mind of Carisophus the Parasite
to Dionysius, who standing at a great distance, and seeing his Master laugh with some of his Friends, he fell also into so loud a fit of laughter, that Dionysius askt him why he laught; Because (said he) seeing you laugh, I imagin'd you spake something deserving laughter.
Clisophus, another Parasite to Philip of Ma∣cedon, pretended himself lame, because the King had broke his Leg, and being about to be set, made the same gtimaces, or scurvy faces, the pain extorted from King Philip: Suitable to what is storied in our own Country, that because Richard the Third held his Head aside, the Courtiers (he being their President) made it a Fashion. Thus Martial doth describe a Flat∣terer, Epig. lib. 12.
This Flatterer will not adventure to childe you for your Vices, but (which is strange) for your Virtues; as, you are too good, too just, too pious, or too temperate; Religion is not so severe to exact such Penance from you; there is more liberty given you, than you take, &c. His aim in this is to chide you out of your Virtues, which he hath no∣thing to do with, it is your Vice he makes use of, and wherein you may best use him; for he is never more active than in the worst diligen∣ces. Lastly, having dispossest you of your self, you are his, or any mans that will give him a hire to betray you. This Fellow is the Devils Principal Secretary of State, who for his own Advantage, and the Ruin of others, can like the Cameleon, turn himself into all colours but Red and White, the Emblems of Shamefac'dness and Innocency. Thus Alciat in Adulatores, Emb. 53.
A Pretended Patience is none of the least ad∣vantagious Qualifications appertaining to our Wheedle; who if he will be excellent in his Art, must endeavour to bridle his passion upon all accounts: Let him often con that saying of Bion; Magnum malum esse, non posse serre malum, that it is a great evil not to be able to endure an evil.
This Patience is imploy'd two ways, in speak∣ing, and doing; in speaking, when by reproach∣ful provoking expressions choler prompts a man to return an answer suitable; but that is impru∣dence, according to Euripides, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, &c. Altero duorum colloquentium indignante, is, quiuse non opponit, plus sapit. He is the wisest man that
shuns opposition, and controversie; but if he cannot so avoid it, but that he must be ingaged therein, let him discourse as unconcern'd as he may, lest his rash heat may make him lose the opportunity by losing him he did intend to make his Friend: But above all, let him have a care of opposing him in whose power it lyes to do him an injury, but rather suffer all, and not contravert any thing, though it may seem never so contradictory to Sense and Reason. Thus was Lucius Metellus (as you may read in Tacitus) his Wisdom by his Patience seen; when sitting in Senate, and unworthily reviled by a Great Man, he only answer'd, Potentia tua, non pati∣entia mea est accusanda; thy Power, and not my Patience is to be condemned.
Patience may be most advantagiously used, by supporting and dissembling of injuries: There is nothing betrays a man to more folly, than babbling passion, by which men are fre∣quently displaced, and thrown out of very con∣siderable imployments, who when the heat is over, are ready to hang themselves for being so rash and inconsiderate. 'Tis true, the venting of a Splenitick Humour, highly obliges the Fancy for the present, but it is the Cut-throat of all future designs. That Courtier doubtlesly had ne∣ver continued so long in favour of the Court, had he not bridled his passion; who being askt by a
Noble-man what means he used to keep himself thus firm, for so many years, in Courtly e∣steem, answered, It was by a patient support∣ing injuries, and returning thanks in lieu of re∣venge, where he saw he could not effect it to any ad∣vantage: And to avenge a mans self unprofita∣bly, (though it be sweet) is in my Opinion as great a madness, as for an injur'd revengeful Italian to drink up a Pint of the rankest Poyson, so that his Enemy will drink but half the quan∣tity.
Now as our Wheedle must patiently endure all the affronts and contumelies that are thrown upon him by them, from whom he hopes for gain, abandoning his own humour, and giving the full swing to theirs, how ridiculous soever, if not hurtful; so he must exercise his Patience, by being diligent in the management of his af∣fairs, and not to be dismay'd, or desist if he meet with obstacles and repulses, not resting himself on one single event, but with perseve∣rance, and against all opposition, must still carry on his design; but with this caution, that he precipitate nothing, but always wait upon occa∣sion. Of this I shall speak more at large in that Chapter, wherein I shall declare how a Ser∣ving-man, or any other Servant, exerciseth the Art of Wheedling for Self-interest.
IF you will but consider, how ambitious man is, and how much he covets honour, and re∣spect, you will then conclude Humility to be an excellent Trap or Gin to catch such Wood-cocks, who having nothing splendid in themselves, seek, nay dearly purchase sometimes these outward appearances, and submissions from others, to force or extort an Estimation from the people; and never do these Fops more betray how con∣scious they are of the poorness of their own Merit, than when they liberally reward their cringing Admirers. Humility, as it is the low∣est step to the highest Stair-case, so it is always the dirtiest, and yet it is the first step to the top: he that will safely mount, and that securely too, to the summity of Honour, ought gradually to ascend, beginning with the lowest step, Humility, if otherwise, by precipitating, he may endanger the breaking of his Neck.
The wary Wheedle knows this very well, and will not omit any opportunity, wherein he may make use of so gainful, though seeming poor and ragged companion: & though he entertain within never so great a Pride; and Ambition, yet it is prejudicial to show it, and therefore he conceals
that Vice with a pretended Humility, which he makes appear in his outward Behaviour five se∣veral ways; in his Apparel, Countenance, Ge∣stures, Words, and Actions.
First, his garb he suits according to the peo∣ple he is concern'd withal; If this Proteus hath any business with sober Citizens, he endeavors to Cloath himself civilly, not Phantastically A la mode, whose Breeches prevent the question, What, would you have your Arse hung with Points? Yet his Cloaths are not so absolutely out of Fashion, but that they have some Affinity and Relation to what is in present Vogue and Esti∣mation, at least they stand Neuter, or equally concern'd with the present and precedent fashion.
If his business lie among the Saints, (as they call themselves, those perverse and obstinate Dissenters from the Church of England) he then attires himself as contrary to the Mode, as he can find presidents among them, and cares not how ridiculous his garments appear in the Eyes of the Wicked, so that thereby he may Cheat and Cozen the Godly.
As for his Countenance, he frames that accor∣ding to the Nature of the People he is to con∣verse withal that day; if with Merchants, or wealthy Tradesmen, he takes a modest liberty to be chearful, with a moderate laughter, not
loud, not flouting, and if he fears he hath ex∣ceeded his bounds therein, he soon recalls him∣self by a modest regard, and reconciles himself to himself, and the Company by what obsequi∣ous and respectful Ceremonies he can think of, proper to the present occasion.
If he be in a Phanatical Society, he takes spe∣cial cognizance of their countenances, and frames his as like them as he can, which is a hard mat∣ter for him to do, (by reason of the Variety) without a great deal of Practice. As first for his Eyes, they must for a while be fixt, and stand still, as the Sun in Joshua's time, and then on a sudden, lest any should say, black is his eye, there is nothing to be seen but the whites; for his sight is gone, into the Labyrinth of his Brain; in search of his Soul, to ask the Question, whe∣ther she is ready for her Journey to Heaven. Next he imitates the pulling down of the nea∣ther Jaw to make his face look long and lean, the certain indicium of the Mortification of the flesh; the next is the contraction of his Lips, the gathering up of his Chin, the thrusting out of his Head, and the sour Faces he makes, would make one believe, that he is about to make a Close-stool of his Breeches, and being very Costive, he strains hard, but cannot do it with∣out the help of a skilful Midwife, a known Professor.
In the third place we must consider his words, which are very pleasant, and always like blancht Almonds set in white Sugar; when he hath tickled your Ears so long as his Invention will hold out, or the occasion permit, he then will give others leave to speak, and will hearken with profound Reverence and Attention, ap∣plauding every thing that is spoken, not daring to interrupt with the least contradiction, and at the end of the Discourse, concludes he never heard more Reason till then uttered, in so short a time; that each syllable contain'd a whole world of deep wisdom and understanding; and then a little after, takes him aside whom he hath thus ap∣plauded, and by some plausible pretence, bor∣rows an Angel of him to be his Guardian to his Habitation. Sometimes as his necessity com∣pels him, he steps into a Meeting-house, and there takes his Cue to hold forth a while, and being out of breath, he concludes his Non∣sence with the Persecution of the Saints; and by laying open their grievances, he tacitly hints at his own Poverty, and exhorts them to Brotherly love and Compassion, and is then recompenced for his vain Babble by a plain Contribution: but more of this in its proper Chapter of the Non∣conforming Teacher.
Lastly, let us take a view of his Humility in his Actions, and that in a three-fold manner;
first, to Superiors let there be all Reverence and respect shown, that thereby he may give them to understand how well he knows his Duty, and how much he admires, and honours their Dignity and Persons, by this means he invades their Affections, and by the perseverance of this respectful Deportment, he in time so over∣comes, or conquers their former Indifferency to do him good, that now they zealously study how to promote his Interest.
Secondly, where any thing is to be gotten, he will descend below his Equals, filling their Bladder with the wind of vain Applauses, know∣ing when to prick and let it out again when he pleases. This condescention gains him very great Estimation amongst the Sober and Judi∣cious, who look upon him to be a very hum∣ble man indeed that will submit to his Equals; but especially in the third place, when they see he does it even to those who are Beneath him, and are his Inferiors; this gains him cre∣dit, whether a Tradesman or not; for every one Believes as he is no proud Man, he can∣not easily be a profuse Man, and he that hath so much discretion in his humble Carriage, hath so much judgment to manage his business and expence with Prudence and Moderation, by which means the fear of what mony is lent, or goods intrusted, will not be mis-imployed, but
having made proper and good use thereof, the Creditor will in due time be repay'd satisfa∣ctorily, and with gratitude.
Before I conclude this Chapter, it is requi∣site I tell you how cautious our Wheedle is in the practice of his Humility; for he carefully observes a Mediocrity, not debasing himself too low, lest it should render him Despicable, but restraining his Humility within the bounds of Courtesie, and decent Affability; by his gentile Salutations and civil carriage, he obliges all, either Superior, Equal, or Inferior, imitating Caesar, who wone the Peoples hearts by Cares∣sing, and flattering even the vilest that were a∣mong them; and if we will but look home, we shall find several of our Nobles and Gentry have risen to a vast height of popularity, by be∣ing not indebted to the Commonalty for Civi∣lity, but rather making them their Debtors, by giving them such Presidents of an Humble, Sweet, and generous Deportment, that it was impossible for them to imitate; but I must desist from further enlarging this Chapter, ha∣ving unawares fallen into the Seventh Qualifica∣tion of a Wheedle.
CIvility is another Ingredient which contri∣butes to the composition of our Wheedling Proteus; and this is most observable in these four things, Choaths, Countenance, Words, and Actions.
His habit ought to be suited according to the people he is to concern himself withal, never superfluous or Phantastick, yet proper and sometimes indif∣ferently Fashionable, sometimes improper, when (as I have said before) treating of his humility, necessity compels him to joyn with the Brethren for the edification, and building up of the outward man. He must have a special care of his Countenance, it must be full of Kindness, continually smiling, avoiding feigned or affected simpering, for that is utterly destructive discovering the Hypocrisy of his heart too plainly; and all sour looks must be utterly banisht his company; in short his looks much be like the Companies, in every respect conformable.
His manner of speaking must be yielding, ob∣liging, and not polemical, or opposing, conclu∣ding with what every one says, though non∣sense, it is right indeed; your proposition is undeni∣able; or all your Arguments are invincible.
Lastly, his actions seem to aim at nothing more than what is honest, and just, whilst he draws his arrow at profit only; when he is amongst Irreligious persons, who make a scoff at Divinity, he will be then as Debaucht as the worst, Drink, Drab, and draw his Sword, according as the honorable company is inclined; for those three Vices, if he finds them in rich men (into whose acquaintance he hath subtilly insinuated himself) he makes them his Exche∣quer, which suplies him with Money, as necessity requires; for Drinking breeds Surfeits, which call upon the Physitian for remedy, and such a one he knows Skilful enough to kill the Patient, with whom he goes Snips; Whores he hath enough of all Sizes and Complexions, from Female perfection in Epitome, to the largest Volume of the Sex, whom he furnisheth with Customers of his own acquaintance, and they repay the kindness with a Pox to 'em. What more necessary man in this extremity, or fitter to be sent for, than Mr. Wheedle, to consult about the Cure, who is a man of known Secrecy, and will procure an able Chirurgion, who will faith∣fully and speedily perfect the Cure; he need not go far for such a one, having always two or three brace of them at his command, with whom he agrees in gross by the year, by rea∣son of the multiplicity of Patients he helps them
to, and hardly one of them Clapt, but by his Procuration.
Lastly, he is infinitely pleas'd if any of his company in their Cups is so Fool-hardy as to draw, no man then shall be more active than himself to part them, blaming them much for their unadvised rashness, and pretends with his utmost power to make them Friends, whereas in effect, he makes their breach the wider, on purpose in that suddain heat they may challenge each other, and knowing the next day, in cool Blood, they will be sorry for what was done, he hugs himself to think what fine work he will make with them both (especially if inclined to Cowardice) in reconciling them together. He hath-been so often imploy'd in deciding diffe∣rences arising from drunken Quarrels and Chal∣lenges, that he is not ignorant in the way of doing it, but will not stir a foot, unless he is cer∣tain to receive (as the Serjeant doth) Mony on both sides: Sometimes he will seem to espouse the quarrel himself, and Fight for his Friend, (when he is sure there is no fear of danger) and this must pass for such an infinite Obligation, that no satisfaction can be made, answerable to so great a tender of Friendship.
AFfability differs little from Courtesie or Civility, for they both consist in all out∣ward signs and caresses, that may make a man Believe, and that confidently too, there is no person more Esteemed and better Belov'd, than they by this subtle insinuating Wheedle.
To this end, by civil Entertainments, and Treats at Taverns, he encourages his Guests (on whom he designs an advantage) to a free∣dom, and near familiarity with him, and the more to endear them to him, he makes a thousand Protestations of Love and Service, and that they may not doubt this Reality, he will diligently wait, and never be at Rest, till he hath found out some slight occasion to shew them he is as good as his word, and there∣upon saith, he is troubled the kindness is no greater, wishing the occasion of a higher con∣cern might be the Probat of his hearty Ser∣vices.
He hates to interrupt the Discourse of ano∣ther, (especially if it be about business) hoping to gather from thence some advantagious intel∣ligence; besides, interruption or contradiction is no ways grateful to the Speaker, and there∣fore
he gives him his utmost liberty, hearkning attentively with some evident signs of satisfa∣ction and contentment, this cannot but please him, and this provokes him to discourse on, nay, to the discovery of his very Thoughts and Designs, where he finds so much Affability; Thus Mr. Wheedle, by the Practice of this Art, hath got a Gilt secretly to unlock Mens hearts at pleasure.
To speak the Truth, that man who rashly interrupts the Discourse of another with eager reparties, or takes the words out of his mouth, endeavouring to Midwife his Fancy for him, or gives not attention to what is said, but tells a Story, either to that purpose, or to any other, before the person hath ended his, is not only a testimony of contempt, but is a great piece of Ill-breeding, Rudeness, and Unmannerliness.
This Wheedle hath learned so much Prudence, as not to lose his Friend for an inconsiderable Jest, or biting Reply, and is so wise, as not to be strange, or offended at any Jest thrown upon him, because by so doing, he doth in a manner acknowledge the truth thereof; where∣fore like a Cunningham seems to slight it, and so makes others Believe there is nothing in it, thus he knows it passes without leaving any ill, or disadvantagious impression of him in the minds of the Hearers,
Lastly, having received any Pledge of Amity, either in Actions or Expressions, by promises of Kindnesses, &c. he often makes grateful ac∣knowledgments thereof, attributing all to the goodness of the Donors Nature, fraught with every thing that is excellent in Mankind, to which he gives so much the more Credit, by how much every one is apt to be deceived with Philauty or Self-love, and too easily will per∣swade himself, that others believe he possesses those qualities which render him agreeable, and esteemed of all men.
THe Affable and Plausible Man are much alike, whose aim is the general Opinion, and therefore the Wheedle will be acquainted will Plausibility and practise it too, because he makes a Benefit of that esteem his Plausible carriage hath extorted from the Vulgar unde∣servedly; in his behaviour there is observable a kind of fashionable Respect, but no Friendship. He hath an excellent Command over his Pa∣tience (as I said before) and his Tongue, which last he accommodates always to the Times and Persons, and seldom speaks what is sincere, but what is civil. He considers who are Friends
to the Company, and speaks well where he is sure to heat of it again. He hath this admira∣ble Faculty in him, he can listen to a Foolish discourse with an Applausive Attention, and conceals his Laughter at Non-sense, unless he thinks he can conveniently oblige the Fop there∣with, and so blind him with an Erroneous opi∣nion of himself, that he may pick his Pocket with greater facility.
Having thus given you a short, but true Ac∣count of the Nine Cardinal Qualifications of a Wheedle, I shall here insert some other obser∣vations as I gathered them here and there scat∣tered in his subtle Practices and Delusions.
He is one that thrusts himself violently into all Business, most commonly unsent for, un∣fee'd, and usually unthankt; every mans Business he makes his own, and, in his eager bustling, keeps ado, and does nothing in it at all, yet he cryes, I have done what I can. This man is wholly determin'd in himself and his own ends, and his Instrument herein is any thing that will do it. His Friends, which he hath made so by his Specious Delusive Pretences, are a part of his Engines, and as they serve to his Operations and Designs, are either us'd, or laid aside; to tell you the Truth, he knows not what a Friend signifies, as having never put it in Practice, but if he give any the Name, it is
an infallible Sign he hath a Plot upon that Per∣son. Never more Active in his Business, than when they are mixt with some detriment to other mens Estates; and he accounts it his best Play at this Game (as at Boards-end) to strike off, and lie in the place. Succesful he is fre∣quently in these undertakings, because he passes smoothly those Rubs which others stumble at, as Conscience, Religion, and the like, and gratu∣lates himself much in the advantage. Oaths and Falsehood he accounts the nearest cut to a plentiful Estate, and loves not by any means to go about by the tedious way of Honesty, and Plain-Dealing; and holds him to be a Mad∣man or a Fool, who saith, That Honesty is the best Policy. He never hears a man speak in the praise of Plain-dealing, but his Choler is ready to over-swell its Banks, and ready to be suffo∣cated therewith, because he dares not give it vent: in his thoughts he makes a pish at Re∣ligion, yet he uses it too, and it may be as an Elder, or a strict Professor, and is never more dangerously a Devil, than when he Personates a Saint. His deepest endearments is a Com∣munication of Mischief, and in his Conclusion, he either mounts to the height of an Estate, or the top of a Ladder.
This Sordid fellow hath no Esteem for any, but Men of Estates, and such who can and will
do him a courtesie, and when they speak, he takes a world of pains to perswade them they speak nothing but Oracles, when they are hard∣ly guilty of common sense. One that justifies nothing out of Fashion, nor any Opinion out of the applauded way, and therefore will at any time confidently Swear, That the Pope is no man, because the generality call him the Whore of Baby∣lon. He hates the judicious, and men of parts, for no other reason, but because he finds it a difficult thing to circumvent them. Every mans happiness he measures by their Mony, and there∣fore nick-names Thrive-well to do well, and Pre∣ferment he profanely calls the Grace of God. He knows no other content, than when his Plots hit right, purchasing him Mony, Gallantry, and the variety of Town-pleasures; at these Marks all his Studies aim at, and he holds as an idle thing all other speculation.
Thus much of the Wheedle in general; I shall more at large Characterize, or Paint him in his proper Colours, when I shall treat of the several sorts of Wheedles or Town-shifts, in the variety of their Mysterious Practices and Devices.
I Have in the foregoing Chapters, given you an Account of the Nine first requisite Qua∣lifications of our Wheedle; in the next place I shall endeavour to discover what other things he consults for his Advantage, before he puts in practice his Art of Insinuation, which indeed are the principal discoverers in the profitable Science of reading or knowing Men.
Man is a difficult Book to be read, if we only take an outward view of his Person and Actions; for without much caution, and cir∣cumspection, they may both prove dangerously deceitful, though it's said, That the Face is the Index of the Mind, yet Experience tells us, it is no infallible Indicium of the Nature or Disposition of the Person. For which cause Socrates would not believe his own Eyes, but his Ears rather; for, when a Youth was highly commended to him for his excellent Parts, and great endowments of Mind, he did not pry into
his outward Feature, which was admirable, and needed not to have demurred his approbation of him, if that lovely hew, and sweet counte∣nance would have done it, but took a contrary way, by asking him, Loquere puer, ut te videam, which Seneca alluded to in one of his Epistles, Videre, & non eloqui, nec videre est, which puts me in mind of an Italian Proverb, A Lucca te vidi, a Pisa te conobbi, I saw thee at Lucca, I knew thee at Pisa; he had an external super∣ficial View of him at one place, but by converse he gain'd an inward acquaintance with him in another.
Yet it must nor be denied, but that the Eye is the Casement of the Soul, through which we may plainly see it, as one lately saw the Pride of a Rich Phanatick through his thread-bare holy Cloak, as he was going to a Conventicle, upon one of his own Solemn Days of Humiliation.
The Tongue is the truest Touchstone of the Heart, and Herauld of the Mind, but not always; for what is more deceitful and treacherous than it; how sweetly will it Wheedle to obtain its end; lye and flatter to propagate Interest; and hath so full a command, and power over the Heart, that it can utter nothing without her as∣sistance; and when the Tongue pleaseth, will corruptedly speak what the Heart dictated.
Again, (as one well observes) all is not Gold that glisters; and it was well observed by a Phi∣losopher, concerning a young man that was well proportioned and spoke ill, a Leaden Rapier in a Golden Sheath; Nero's Beard in a Golden Box; wrinkled Faces, and rugged Brows, lurk under smooth Paint; a rotten Nutmeg gilt over, or a gaudy outside with a Baudy rotten inside; an old deformed Woman in a New-fashion'd Gown; yet on the other side, when we see a Body well framed, as wrought out of the purest Virgin-wax, as tempered with the cunning hands of beauty and favour, enriched with the very prodigality of Nature; shall we say this golden Mine affords only leaden Metal? This is no wonder, no rare thing to see Wit, Wisdom, and Virtue in fellowship, or in one House-hold with Beauty; wherefore we must not censure too far by the outward resemblance, or else to instruct knowledge it self in this: That always to see, is not to know.
Neither can any see the Deformity of the Soul by the blemishes of the Body; not but that a man may give a shrewd conjecture, and many a hanging look hath presaged his certain going to the Gallows, some years before the approach of that sad Catastrophe.
I cannot deny but that we may gather some∣thing from outward appearances; for men large∣ly
sized are seldom witty Men we find; little Eyes in men betoken crafty, and circumventing Dispositions; in Women, salacity or lechery, with an obstinate selfish humour: a great head, a small wit; goggle eyes, a stark staring fool; great ears, a dull heavy Ass; large breasted, long liv'd; a plain unfurrowed brow, liberal; thick nails, harsh hair, and a gross hard skin, are certain signs of a dull understanding; a fat belly bespeaks a little ingenie, because the subtile Spirits are affected with gross and turbulent Fumes which darken the understanding.
Fat Panches make lean Pates, and grosser bits Enrich th' Ribs, but Bankrupt quite the Wits.
This will not hold good, if you examin the great Wit, notwithstanding the corpulent Body, of Doctor R. W.
Now since these are no certain Signs, which may direct us to the knowledge of Mankind, let us consider what other helps remain, which I find to be four, very important and necessary to be understood by all the Students of this Art or Science, viz. The four Temperaments or Humours, Inclinations, Passions, and Conversa∣tion: of these I shall speak in order.
ALL Natural Bodies have their compositi∣on of the mixture of the four Elements; Fire, Air, Water, and Earth: from the Dominion of any of these, or their qualities, each Temperament or Constitution hath its De∣nomination: thus Sanguine hath its original from Air, Choler from Fire, Phlegm from Water, and Melancholy from Earth; now, the Blood is hot and moist; Choler hot and dry; Water cold and moist; the Earth cold and dry.
The golden Crasis, or Sanguine Complexion, is (as T. W. describeth it at large, with much Learning and Rhetorick) The Pride of Humours, the Paragon of Complexions, and the Prince of all Temperaments: And as a Potentate he continues his Metaphor thus: You cannot but admire him, if you view him in those Princely Scarlet Robes he is always invested with, seated in a Kingly Throne, and placed in the midst of our Earthly City; next take notice of his Officers, (I mean the Veins and Arteries) which are spread throughout his whole Politeia, yea, dispersed in every Angle,
to execute his Commands, and carry the lively influence of his goodness, reviving those remote parts, which without his influence, would be frettished with a chilness, and in a short time be mortified. Then consider his wise subtle Counsellors, which daily consort with him, for the welfare of his whole Kingdom; the limpid Spirits, the very seat of Divine reason it self, the fountains of Policy, &c.
If we poize all these together, with many more, we cannot but imagine that the blood is a Coelestial Majesty, or a Terrestrial Deity, and he that is nearest allied thereunto, comes nearest to that Eucrasia, the best (but only conceited) Temperament, called by Physitions Tempera∣mentum ad Pondus, which never man yet perfect∣ly injoyed. And is it not ten Thousand pit∣ty's, that this excellent Temperament should lye liable to more abuses than any of the rest; that though its Spirits have the most exact temper of all wherewith the Soul, as being in a Paradise, is most delighted, and for wit surpassing all, yet is the disposition so facile, and easy to be wrought on, that our Wheedle finds him a dish of meat made ready to his hands at any time to feed upon; but more of this hereafter.
The External signs by which he is known, are a live look, with a fresh ruddy Complexion; in speech affable, with a graceful delivery: there
are some excellent qualification in him, which are no ways to the purpose for our Wheedle to take notice of, savoring of too much goodness and virtue for him to imitate or profit by, but his other qualities (which are to him as his panis quotidianus) are these.
First as he knows him to be a great Lover of Wit; there is not an applauded Book in that respect newly minted, but that he either pur∣chaseth it for him, or directs him where he may have it; and the more to ingage him, he is his Intelligencer-generall for all manner of witty conceits, which he gleans here and there, either in Taverns, Bawdy-houses, or Wits Coffee-houses, which he bundles up promiscuously together; and loads his memory therewith, or fearing by its carelesness any may be scatter'd by the way, he binds them up safe in his Table-book, which he studiously cons two or three hour's before he gives them vent, that they may the better pass for his own; and in the delivery how through∣ly and eagerly he consults the countenance of this our well featur'd, and good natured Gentle∣man, and if he finds they pleasantly relish the Palate of his Fancy, he gives him more bor∣row'd Sugar-plums of the like nature, till he hath sweetned him for his own swallow.
By daily conversing with him, this Rascal finds him, not only extraordinary kind, and
affectionate to his Friend, but very liberal also; on both of these he works to his advantage; as to the first, he makes it his business to perswade him by some external demonstrations, that he is a real Friend, not only by protestations of Friendship, but by some petty Services which may intimate as much, and having possest him with that Belief, by a pretended present neces∣sity, he may borrow mony of him, or by an Arrest of his own ordering, may draw him in∣to such obligations, that the releif of the one, commonly proves the untimely destruction of the other.
Now, by reason of that lively abounding humour, he knows him to be salacious, or ve∣nereally inclin'd, or a great Lover of Musick and Harmony, and being very sociable, and willing to condescend to any Motion that may make an augmentation to Pleasure, he is easily perswa∣ded to drink plentifully; these are three such knacks the Devil could not invent better to pick mens Pockets with; and what damnable use doth this Wheedling Villain make of them, when he hath got them together. First, the Wench must be procur'd, which is soon done, accor∣ding as he finds out his harmless Bubbles incli∣nation: he carries perpetually about him a Ca∣talogue of all the Whores he can hear of about the Town, ranking them into three Columes
apart, and thus distinguished; the Flamer, Frisker, and Wast-coateer: The two first are new names given the Does, or Bona Roba's (as the Italian calls a Whore) and they are the upper, and middle sort; the last pitiful and mean, who by her incomes, or plying, never could pur∣chase her self cloaths becoming the Society of Gentlemen. This meretricious Catalogue he digests Alphabetically, by reason of the vast quantity of those white Cloven Devils, with large white spaces between to insert the names of such he hath found out by new discovery; and he takes so good a method for finding them out, that though they change their Names and Lodgings ever so often, yet knowing how great a Friend he is to them, they all send him word when occasion serves of such alterations, which he puts down de novo in his Book; and though one of these Whores in a years time may have twenty names, yet she can have but one body, which he suits his Bubble with, according as he finds his inclination bend, either to black, brown, red, flaxen, or any complexion whatever: but present bounds, before I have too far run beyond present bounds before I was aware on't, de∣signing to speak of this more at large in its pro∣per place, when I shall come to describe the subtle Wheedling practices of Bawds, Whores, Pimps, Bully's, &c.
The Wench being brought, which is in a garb always agreeable to the Amorist, and of price according to his ability or desire; this delicate bit will not seem half so palatable without a dish of Musick, which lest the ravishing Consort should convert his Brutish desires into Seraphick Love (for to that the Sanguine too is naturally inclined) Madam Van Harlot takes him aside into another Room, pretending to speak with him about business, and there for a double ex∣pence gives him the opportunity to cool his Concupiscence. Wine he makes use of to winde up the bottom, playing on the freeness of his disposition, and being tired with the ex∣cess of these various delights, Madam and the Musick is dismist, as things no longer perti∣nent to his design, which is in courtesie to wait upon him home, that he may have the better opportunity to pick his Pocket; and if he finds the intoxicated fumes of Wine have not so fully contributed their assistance to his purpose, as he would have them, yet he knows by their heat they have done enough to soften the Wax of his good Nature, that thereby he hath a fair opportunity to make what advantagious impres∣sion he pleaseth upon him.
WEre it pertinent to my Subject, I might here give you a description of Choler, and how many sorts there are of it, which the Latins call Bilis, but I shall only name them, because they have been so much discourst al∣ready; there is bilis vitellina, of a pale yellow, Porracea, greenish; caerulea, azure, or blewish, and aeruginosa, of a rusty colour.
The Signs whereby a man may discern a man of this Cholerick Complexion, are a yellowish countenance, or swarthy, red-hair'd, or of a brownish colour, very meagre and thin, are soon angry, and soon pleas'd, like the Sanguine, but differs from him in this, that he is all fire, in a moment inflamed, and violent in the pro∣secution of his Revenge, and no man obligeth him more, than he that will any way assist him in it,
He then that will insinuate into his affections, must flatter him in his unjust Wrath, prompt him to Revenge, inculcating the sweetness thereof; thus when he hath engaged him in a Quarrel, as the Rat and the Frog in the Fable, he, like the Eagle, may hover aloft out of harms way, and safely make a prey of them both. How easily may such a thing be guld, since his rash
actions, for the most part, put a leg before his Judgment, and most commonly out-run it; for his Passion or hot Fancy is the Signal that sets him forward, whilst his Reason comes lag∣ging in the Rear; by all men that are wise, he is accounted indiscreet, because he is so chang∣able and inconstant in his determinations, ever disliking what he before approved; now, none will deny that mutableness, and inconstancy are the intimates and badges whereby Fools are known, and every one knows, that Fools are the constant Food which Knaves do feed upon, which made a crafty Knavish Broker (whom I knew) say, I will not part with my Fools for an Annuity of two hundred pounds.
But this the Knave must do, if he intend to fit his humour to a hair, to be as precipitate as he, in all attempts or enterprizes: for when any thing comes into his head, which he would have effected, he hates all considerate delays, and will not stay the leisure of a second thought; for the first is his Resolution, and never consi∣ders what the event may be. Have a care Mr. Wheedle how deeply you engage, or con∣cern your self with this Hot-spur, or Furioso; for since the ground he goes on, is, hap what may, something may happen by the way, in which no∣thing shall stop you, till you come to Tyburn: and thus as an obstinate, I will, was his Prologue,
so I would I had not, may be your Epilogue. To conclude, this advantage may be made of him, in a humour of quarrelling, he will grosly abuse a man, and in another humour undo himself to make him amends.
THe External Signs whereby a Phlegmatick man may be distinguished from all other Temperaments, are natural paleness of colour, (Pallor in ore sedet) drowsy headed, weakly con∣stituted by reason of the debility of Nature, oc∣casioned by an extream cold moisture, corres∣pondent to the watry Element, wich extinguish∣eth the Natural Heat in humane Bodies.
There is Phlegma naturale, et non naturale, from whence proceed the Crassum, Gypseum, Salsum, Acetosum, and Tenue, all which contribute to mans dissolution, if not timely hindred in their progression; as to the causes and nature of them distinctly, with the maladies attending, I shall leave to the care of the Physitian, and med∣dle no further with the Phlegmatick man, than to discover how our Insinuator or Wheedle makes his humour an advantagious thing to work upon.
First, it will be requisite to continue my a∣bove commenced description of him, whereby he may be easily known; besides his pallid hue,
drowsie head, and debile constitution, he is dull in conceiving and apprehending: mild natur'd, difficultly incensed, or provoked to Anger, and egregiously Cow-hearted.
There are two qualities in this weakly indige∣sted Phlegmatick person (who always looks like an old Paritan dow-baked) very advantagious for any, who have a mind to practise upon him: first, the dulness of his Apprehension, and Con∣ception; being slenderly furnisht with what makes a man; I do not mean form, or feature, but reason, and understanding; for he is to be dealt withal no otherways than as a child, (for he is always a Boy at Mans estate) and no man questions the facility of cokesing, and cheat∣ing such an ignorant Innocent with any Toy, bearing a glittering outside; or if it make but a noise in his Ear, (as a Rattle) it will either still him for the present, or lull him into such a sleep, that you may run away with the House over his Head, with whatsoever thereunto be∣longs, before he awakes, or if he does, and as in a maze asks you where he is, what he hath done, and what's become of this or that, it is but throwing the Child the other Play-thing, and ten to one he leaves of crying, and goes to sleep again.
Certainly Nature hudled up this thing in hast, and left his better part unfurnisht, or unfinisht;
for every part of him is grown up to a perfect man, only his Brains lag behind; wherefore he wants a Tutor, though he be too old to have one, but our Wheedle thinks it never too late to instruct the simple and ignorant, not caring at what rate they purchase their experience.
I do not hence infer, that all Phlegmatick Persons are Fools, but those who have that hu∣mour over abounding; as they are half a dozen steps above a Fool, so they are a great many below a Wise man: he is a man of a good harm∣less Nature, and well meaning Mind, and want∣ing judgment to distinguish when good or harm is designed, his mistake in either becomes equal∣ly destructive.
The second advantage is made on the mild∣ness of his Nature, and his Cow-heartedness.
He is a man flexible enough, but not given to loquacity, whatever you propose to him, he returns not his answer of liking or disliking; you must take his Silence for Consent, and if you would have it done, you must take him by the hand and lead him to it; if he hangs an Arse, a threat will prick him forward, and if you a∣buse him, no man takes it more patiently; or if he should ill resent it, it is but re-acting it, and then you abuse him into a reconcile∣ment.
He that intends to make him his Creature, must often huff him, or now and then relate what desperate things he hath gone through, how many Duels, how many Skirmishes, &c. though he never saw any other Military Body but the Train'd-bands, nor never a Sword drawn, but in a Cutlers shop; for this is a certain rule, that the Opinion of Valour is a good Protection to those that dare not use it. Thus you may get Courtesies by falling out with him, and as the business is rightly managed, his fear will prompt him to bribe you into a Pacification.
In short he is a dull heavy Animal, who in Company will drink, and smoak as much as any, but speak as seldom as Baalam's Ass, and not half so much to purpose; he is only fit to pay Reckonings, and carry burdens, and if the beast be fat, he is the better for our Wheedle to ride upon; but let him have a care he preserve him for his own use, for lending him out to others will founder and spoil him quite. Cullies and Bubbles must be kept as Spaniards do their Wives, keeping them from the sight of all, and so they have the whole use of them to themselves. Great beauties, and fat Fools must be used alike, the sight of either tempts men to rob us of them, who would never have thought on't, otherwise, but by seeing the Temptation. The Goose may be turn'd out, when the feathers are pul'd, till then,
the rich Fop is dealt with by the Wheedle, as a wife was by her husband, who sware to her, he would make as much of her as he could, and so he did; for, having spent her mony, he sold her very cloaths from her back.
OF all the four Temperaments, this is the great∣est enemy to life and good society; as to the first, because its qualities being Cold and Dry, do most of all disagree from the lively qualities, Heat, and Moisture; either with its Coldness extinguishing natural inherent heat, or with its Dryness sucking up the native Moisture. As to the second, Society, as all Creatures whatever delight in it, so he is averse to it, and seems to be a man, made to be alone. He may curse his Godfather Saturn for his ill qualities; for he had them all from him; a fellow of that malig∣nant nature, that let him be in Copulation with the best (though with Madam Venu••, when she is in a merry pin, and in good humour) yet will he dull, and obscure their benevolent influ∣encies.
A man of his temper, by his contemplative faculty, and by the assiduity of sad and serious meditation may prove a dangerous Machiavili∣an, and may haply invent such stratagems,
whims & policies, as were never put in practice, and which may have a happy success,; but he is no man for a nimble denterical, pregnant, and extemporary Invention; no man at a pleasant Conceit, a Comical Jest, quaint Expressions, varnish'd Metaphors, nor gracefull Delivery; wherefore, he that intends to ingratiate him∣self into his acquaintance, must not think to do it with A la mode Songs, repetition of Witty Verses, as Epigrams, Epithalamiums, &c. nor with culd ingenious Sentences out of Plays; he had rather hear a Wolf howl at Midnight, or a Consort of Screech-Owles, ac∣companied with the scratching Courtship of a dozen Cats promiscuously generating; if you Laugh, and show your Teeth to him, he had rather see a Bear grin at him; and the sound of a Violin is more dreadful to him than the crowing of a Cock to a Lyon. If you intend to win his heart, you must endeavour to look like Lazarus, newly risen from the Dead; or like the Daemoniacks coming out of the Tombs; you must make no noise, not so much as open your Mouth, for fear the Air should whistle through your Teeth, and if you must speak, let it be so, as if you intended never to speak more.
I pity that man that is troubled with this Malignant constitution, for it is the Spring of
all sad and bad Humours, the Aqua Fortis of good Company; for he is a contemplative Slum∣berer, and sleeps waking.
He is distinguished from the other three com∣plexions, by his black swarthy Visage, slow pace, and sad countenance; he entertains hatred a long time in his Breast, and is rarely reconci∣led to his Enemy. It is a long time before he can be made a Friend, yet he is of a kind Na∣ture to them with whom he hath long conversed, and is constant in his affection and Friendship; and he that will obtain it, must humour his ridi∣culous Passions, of which he hath too many; what he Conceits, you must Swear is Real; for he hates contradiction, being so much Wedded to his own fond opinion. If he vainly imagin he is made of Glass, (as I have read of one that did) keep your distance, lest coming too near him, he suspect you for an Enemy, and that by a justle you design his Ruin, breaking his brittle Fabrick into pieces; if as another, he thinks him∣self composed of Butter, you must half starve with him in the cold, rather than injure his con∣ceit, by perswading him to sit by the Fire, and hazard his dissolution; if (as Burton relates of one) he thinks he hath a Nose so big, that the Room wherein he sits is too little to contain it; you must when you give him a visit, squeez your self into it, for fear of hurting his Nose,
till you come to the back of his Chair, there without injury to discourse with him; if as ano∣ther, who thought himself Dead, and therefore would not Eat, you must sit with him in a VVinding Sheet at a Table furnisht with Meat, and confessing your self to be Dead too, fall on, that by your Example you may perswade him to Eat too, since his Brother Dead-man does it; if as another, who took a conceit he was a God, you must seemingly worship his Deity, till by your Knavish dealing with him, you make him confess his Humanity; if as another, he fancy he is so light, that he must wear Iron Shoes to hinder the VVind from tripping up his heels, lay your Politick weights and Stratagems on his Shoulders, till he groan under the weight of your Cozenage and Deceits. In short, you must deal with him as with men of all other complexions, by a congruity, and suiting with the humour of the Person; for without this, the Wheedle shall miss of his intended advantage.
WHosoever intends to insinuate himself into the affection or Friendship of any person, Male or Female, of what Age soever, (propor∣tioning his respects according to the Quality, Riches and Merit of him to whom he doth ad∣dress them) must throughly Study, and perfectly understand the several Temperaments, Inclinati∣ons, and various Motions of the will of that Man, and must practise a conformity and suitableness to his Humours and Passions. VVith a person of a Sanguine constitution, who is of a sweet Nature, you must suit and accommodate your self to the mildness of his Inclinations; you must not prompt him to Revenge, for he is apt of himself to excuse the greatest Injury that is done him, and therefore if you would ingra∣tiate your self with him, you must mitigate offences committed; perswading him, with rea∣son and good advice, to take a moderate satisfacti∣on; this in a very high manner obliges him, as be∣ing so agreeable and consentaneous to his loving and merciful disposition.
With that person, who is agitated and tost to and fro in a turbulent tempestuous Sea of Choler, you must act otherwise; for as it is his humour openly to complain of Injuries receiv'd, so you must amplifie them with what aggrava∣tions you can most properly suggest; as his Cholerick Vessel is full fraught with Revenge, (and being fearless of danger, ready to enter∣prize any thing that may gratifie that destructive Humour) so you must lay aside all considerati∣on, and sailing with him in that desperate Re∣solution, you must be guided by the Compass of his rash will, pursuing all his angry designs with equal precipitation.
If he rails against any one, that hath injur'd or offended him, you must play the Billings-gate against him too; if he intends to procure, or create this man a thousand Enemies, for a small offence, you must endeavour (or seem) to raise him as many more.
In short, he that would accommodate him∣self to him that is transported with Choler, must imitate him in some of his Actions, and seem not only to approve of his Passion as just, and truly grounded, but likewise to give him to un∣derstand, that your Apefying anger proceeded from the same cause as his did, ever accusing and reviling the causer thereof, praising Revenge, and prompting him to a speedy Execution of it.
The Phlegmatick person is generally fearful, and therefore takes into consideration all kind of Dangers, and his fear looking through a Mi∣croscope, they appear to the deceived eye of his judgment much bigger than they are; a small Mite in a Cheese appears as big as a shaggy Bear, and an Ant as large as an Elephant; it is to no boot then to perswade him to be bold and couragious; talk to him of Wars, and you wound him to the Heart; tell him of a great Army that is preparing against his Country∣men, and he fanfies they are already at the Townsend; always the evil seems to approach nearer than it doth, and discovers his distrust and distraction, by his words and countenance.
Now to condemn this man to his Face or otherwise, for his base fear and Cowardize, is to disoblige him; for though he know himself to be a rank Coward, he knows withal, that it is a disparagement to be thought so, and there∣fore you cannot please him better, than to per∣swade the world that he is no such Person, and you must justifie his fears by reason; that his aversion to quarrel and disputes proceeds from prudence; that Wisdom always hinders her Children from fighting for trifles, or were the matter considerable, yet discretion should teach us to put up injuries, and not hazard a mans all in this world for an Airy satisfaction.
To counterfeit an agreeable fearfulness, is the way to win much upon him, and therefore in discourse, Valour, and all bold enterprizes, should be decryed as the effects of rashness and temerity, and that their consequences are al∣ways dangerous, and most commonly destructive. Inculcate frequently the Proverb, and comment upon it, That one pair of legs is worth two pair of hands; That to fly is better than to die, com∣mending Falstaff in the Play, deriding Sir Henry Blunt that was slain; there lies grinning Honour, &c. In short, let safety and security be above all things applauded.
Whereas on the other side, he that hath to do with a bold resolute and confident Person, who never enters into a consideration of any thing that may represent Fear and Danger, must seem couragious and stout, though he be not so, by pretending promptness to prosecute his ha∣zardous designs; and that he may not be suspe∣cted, all his actions, which are the fore-runners to any desperate design, must be accompanied with a cheerful and joyful countenance, as if he was more forward than the other, to enterprize any design whatever, though attended with all the danger imaginable, yet may he use an hun∣dred Stratagems to divert him from putting any thing in Execution which may prove prejudicial to them both.
If this person doth any thing, though never so inconsiderable, the action must be prais'd above measure, whatsoere it be, though bad, it must not want applause, but if others will not forbear speaking of it opprobriously, as it deserves, and coming to his Ear, he seems too sensible of the shame and disgrace, you must then contemn that too great regard that is given to the opinion and censure of men, to which those who sub∣ject themselves, are Slaves, that none but Fools regard what the world saith of them; that there is no heed to be taken of the giddy multitude, who will be talking, though they talk nothing; and therefore perswades him not to be regula∣ted by the measure of censuring severity. Here by the way observe to praise, respect, and seem∣ingly love whosoever is beloved by him, in whom you intend to gain an Interest; and those he hates, you must hate too, and let him know you do it, by aggravating all their ill Offices, rejoy∣cing at any bad, and grieving at any good shall befall them.
If you would accommodate your self to in∣grateful Persons, (which are a sort of Cattle I may call without offence, Hells first Inhabitants) you must then lessen whatsoever kindnesses he receives from others, and magnifie whatsoever he bestows; always inculcating into his Ear, that such a thing was done out of design, or that
he could do no less than to repay one favour, since there was so many due upon sundry occa∣sions.
The Envious must be dealt with after another manner, and that is, when you find him trans∣ported with Indignation and Envy, for the good which happens to any one; then must the worth of this person be vilified, that there is nothing in him which deserves such Boons from the hand of Fortune, but hang't she is blind and incon∣stant, and knows not how to reward Merit and Desert.
And to gratifie the more this Diabolical hu∣mour, there is nothing does it more effectually, than to parallel him who is thus Envious, with him that is Envied, exalting the first, and deba∣sing the last; magnifying the least good quality discernable in the one, and lessening that which is perspicuously good in the other; and that the bad actions in his life may smother and stifle his better qualifications, and virtuous inclinations, all the stains or blots of his whole Life and Con∣versation, must be strictly lookt into, and num∣bered, to be ready for Repetition when the Envious shall maliciously exclaim against this Person.
Lastly, though the Wheedle knows the Tem∣perament of men, with their Inclinations and Passions, yet he is to understand this, that a man
is not always in one humour; he may be Sour, Cross, and Morose in a Morning upon an hun∣gry Stomach, yet may be Pleasant and Cour∣teous after Dinner, when he hath cram'd his Crib; and for the benefit of Concoction, hath warm'd his Stomach with half a dozen glasses of brisk Claret; and therefore some have that Policy or insight into Mens dispositions, that they will not Negotiate or treat about any por∣tant affair with any Merchant, till he hath laid the Basis of his Design on a good Breakfast, or a plentiful Mornings draught.
Moreover, as a man may be out of humour, by reason of that acid humour within, which proves a Canibal oftentimes, and feeds upon the Stomach, for want of other sustenance, so gain and loss, good and bad News, success or crosses in any design, &c. will suddenly and strangely alter a mans humout from Joy to Sorrow, and so vice versa. Sometimes a mans countenance (like the Sun in April) shall look for a while pleasant and chearful, and in an instant, some cloudy discontent obseures its Face, and then it falls a Raining.
Now, since Joy and Sorrow govern different∣ly, Joy being never willing with Venus to ad∣mit Sorrow into her Society, (Non solet in lecto triste venire Venus) there must be therefore a special care had, how the present mirth of o∣thers
be discomposed or diverted, by some un∣seasonable sorrowful action or expression; with the Joyful and Merry there must be a correspon∣ding jollity. On the other side, if one in the depth of another mans sorrowful condition should be exercising his Buffoonry; by this means he would render himself disagreeable and importunate; but he must accommodate him∣self to the parties grief, and suffer with him for a while; and at length by sliding by degrees out of that dumpish humour, you draw him after you, leaving the sorrow to come limping after. Mans nature is more inclined to pleasure, than to any other thing, and therefore is the more willing to embrace it; but then it must be done with a sweet insinuation, and he that hath that excellent faculty, what may not that man effect according to the humour he is to work upon. The Man that is Melancholy, or any ways di∣sturb'd in mind, needeth no other Physician, which he knows; and therefore no mans company more acceptable than his: O for Mr.—such a one (cries the sorrowful) where is he? send for him. Were he here, his pleasant discourse would asswage my sorrow, his company is the Antidote for an afflicted person: and being come, who so wel∣come as he, what thing too good for him; whilst they both live, by this means he is like to have his loving look, and ten to one after Death his large Legacies.
In short the Wheedle, concludes whilst there is a man living on the Earth, there is a necessity for him to imitate the Vices and debauches, as well as the Virtues of those with whom we converse. Alcibiades, who was both on Orator and Philosopher, being at Athens, when he was amongst the Lacedemonians, his conversation was crabbed and austere; when amongst the Thraci∣ans a very spruce Gallant, and would play the Bacchanalian stoutly. Amongst the Jonians, he addicted himself to all those pleasures they most delighted themselves in, being very jovial, and as they were phantastick so was he: When he was among the Persians, he imitated them in their gallantry of apparel, with other Sumptuous and Splendid habits and accoutrements, accord∣ing to the humour of that (then) luxurious Na∣tion.
A man qualified with such a Spirit cannot fail to reap his advantages whereever he comes, but especially at Court, or Princes Palaces, where men must comply, and render themselves easy to conform to all sort of Humours and Man∣ners, as if it proceeded from a natural inclina∣tion, and not from any fawning imitation.
IN the preceding Chapters it is indifferently proved, that the Temperaments are the most general and most eminent causes of the Inclina∣tions of both Sexes, Men being inclined to such and such Passions, according to the quality of the Humours which are predominant in the Body; thus the Melancholick person, as he is sad and serious, so he is commonly Politick and Ingenious: the Cholerick active, angry, and inconstant: the Sanguine jovial and affable: the Phlegmatick stupid and faithful.
Besides these Internal Characters, there are also many that are External, which are as Let∣ters by which man is read and understood; for largeness of the Breast (according to common experience) denotes nimbleness, and strength of the junctures: openness of the Nostrils, and wideness of the Mouth, are Marks of courage and gluttony: a thick Neck, the flesh hard and musculous, and the extremities large, are signs
of bodily strength, and strong judgment: the Square Fore-head, Nose somewhat big, Lips thin, and the Chin of an indifferent largeness, declare magnanimity and greatness of courage: the Stature tall and streight, the Eye-brows ele∣vated, a Majestick gate, and sprightly eyes, sig∣nifie ambition and desire of honour: the Fore∣head and Face of a square figure, and the Head of a convenient bigness, are marks of Wisdom, Constancy and Justice. If you will be further acquainted with these and other external signs belonging to mens Bodies, and would know their signification according to experience, con∣sult that excellent and elaborate Piece of Mr. Sanders, treating at large of Physiognomy and Chiromancy; where you will find, and whence it may be affirmed, that of all the parts belong∣ing to Man or Woman, there is not one, but which denotes some particular Vice or Virtue.
Now, though these aforementioned signs, with these which follow, are admirable disco∣verers of intricate Man, viz. motion of the Body, Gate, Gesture, and carriage of it, Beauty and Deformity, Colour, Air of the Countenance, quality of the Skin, Voice, fleshiness of the Body, figure and largness of the Parts, all which pro∣ceed from External or Internal causes, yet some say, that these signs are not certain; but may fail in sundry respects: first as to the external; a man
may become crooked, or crump Shouldered by a fluxion, or by a fall; a man may squint by imi∣tating another (when he was young) who lookt obliquely; secondly, as to the internal, a man may go slowly, through weakness by sickness; thus the air of the Countenance, the Voice, Skin, and fleshiness of the Parts, may receive alterati∣on upon the same account; an hundred instances I could here insert to the like purpose; which will not much avail my present purpose in hand; there is no rule so general, but it will admit of some exception; yet let me advise the Reader, to take special notice of this caution, Caveto ab iis, quos Deus notavit; beware of them, whom God hath markt, I believe it is meant in Ʋtero, such as come so markt into the world, who are like Parsons Sons, most commonly upon the extreams, either very good, or very bad; some natural marks I have taken special notice of, as mens Eyes of different colours, sometimes one bigger than the other; a tuft of hair white, and the rest black, &c. whosoever deals with such men ought to have much circumspection; for they are generally Crafty and Knavish; where∣ever you see a black or brown hair'd man with a reddish Beard, conclude him no Woman-hater, but a hater of honest Women.
To conclude, he that hath attained to the di∣scovery of the Inclinations, Manners, and designs
of other men we cannot then but acknow∣ledge, that he hath gotten the surest Guide that can be taken for a man's conduct in the whole course of his life, and shall in the right use there∣of, not only avoid a thousand dangers, and incon∣veniences, into which, from time to time he runs the hazard of falling into; but likewise supports himself hereby, though in the most tottering condition. For it shows the opportunities, and favourable conjunctures of time, wherein a man ought to speak or act any thing to the best ad∣vantage, and teacheth him the manner how to do it, and if it be requisite to suggest an advice, to inspire a Passion, or a design, it knows all the Passages through which it is to be derived into the Soul.
In the compleating the study of this Art, there is nothing more requisite, than the right know∣ledge of Physiognomy, which discovers the dis∣position and inclination of men, as much as any thing; now he that hath got a good understan∣ding therein, need not complain against Nature, for not putting a window before mens hearts, that their thoughts, and secret designs might be seen; for those things fall not under the senses; for though the eyes saw the very bottom, and all the windings, and turnings of the heart, yet could they not observe any thing therein, from whence they might derive the knowedge of it: Nature
hath made other provision for this discovery; to wit, not only voice and tongue (the Interpreters of the thoughts) but also lest (out of a distrust) man should abuse them, Nature hath contrived a language in his forehead and eyes, to give the other the lye, in case they should not prove faithful. In short, she hath exposed his Soul to be observed on the outside, so that there is no ne∣cessity of any window to see his motions, inclina∣tions, and passions, since they are apparent in his face, and are there written in such visible, and manifest characters; yet for all this, few have the Art of reading them, for want of humane ob∣servation: let us then pass to things that are more legible, and those are the Passions.
AS the depths of the Earth are obscure places, which are not penetrated by the radiant light of the Sun, where Night and Hor∣ror seem to sojourn, and there have their dwelling; so is the heart of man environed with darkness, which is not to be dissipated, and what∣soever it conceiveth is so hidden, as we can guess thereat but by conjecture, and all the rules, and observations we have, or may lay down are not so infallible, but that they lye liable to mistakes. For words are not always faithful represen∣tations of the hearts conceptions; neither are actions always to be credited. Humane wisdom (which vaunts it self to see far into what is to come) is much troubled to discover mans inten∣tions; and the greatest work a Statesman can undertake, is, when by his dexterity he endeavors to expound a dissembling Hypocritical heart, and there to observe such thoughts, and designs, as are endeavoured to be kept concealed.
Thus our Wheedle by policy arrives to this knowledge, which gives him rules how to sound
these depths, which seem to have no bottom. He judges of mens Meanings, by their Humours and Actions, and reads in the eyes and face, the most secret motions of the Soul, and its inclinati∣ons. He observes their nature by their designs, and studies man so well, that he can give ashrewd guess at their very thoughts, and by one piece of subtil∣ty and cunning, discover that, which they by ano∣ther seek to conceal. But of all these ways I find none more easy, and more certain than that of the Passions; for they escape us against our will and betray us by their Promptness, and likeness, as Seneca saith, nulla vehementior intra cogitatio est quae nihil moveat in vultu. Daily experience tels us this, that it is much more hard to with∣hold a mans Choler, than his hand, and to im∣pose silence to his sufferings, than to his mouth. They mutiny without our leave, and by an impre∣ssion which they make in our countenance, they teach our enemies all that lies within our hearts, and invite the Wheedle to come, and banquet on our follies. Horace terms the Passions Tortures; Vino tortus & Ira; and rightly too; for as they torture us through their rigour, so by Violence they force us to confess the truth. A man must be very faithful to himself, if he do not declare himself, either by hatred, or vanity, and he must have great power, and keep them under, when our Skilful Artist undertakes to move them upon
some Wheedling account. The wisest men fre∣quently forget their prudent resolutions, and of∣tentimes a Praise, or a Reproach draws a truth from them, which wisdom had a long time kept concealed.
Tiberius, the Emperour, is judg'd by the Learned to be the greatest Dissembler that ever sway'd a Scepter, and therefore the Senate trem∣bled as oft as they were to treat with a Prince so close, and so cunning; for all his words were Aenigmas, and his actions so obscure, as that none could discover his intentions; notwithstanding, one word of Agrippina's so incensed him, as to to make him say a thing which so agitated him, that doubtless he would have concealed it, had he continued in his ordinary Temper; thus was the most concealed man in the world betray'd by the heat of Passion, and by an indiscreet answer discover'd the bottom of his heart. Our Wheedle hath a special care of this; for as he he is reser∣ved in his speeches, so he his Master of his affe∣ctions in such sort, as that they appear not in his visage, nor sparkle out in his words, nor actions; all the doors of his Soul are shut up, but one small Postern for Flattery to issue out at, by which means no man shall fathom his depth, and those that will take the pains to know him, must consult Report; which way is very un∣certain; for Fame is fickle, Enemies are Lyars, and Friends are Flatterers.
Whilst he is thus reserved to himself he neg∣lects not to inquire into other mens Inclinations, and reads in those faithful Glasses the most secret motions of their hearts. He diligently examins what Passion is out of order; for if any one be, it is impossible to conceal it, and when it hath discover'd its self, he presently makes use thereof to his own benefit, but their certain prejudice. If women did not discover how much they are delighted with idle discourse, they would not run much danger in their honour; for when this Wheedle hath discovered their Weakness, and shall observe, that they are pleas'd in being prais'd, he insinuates himself into their likings by Flattery, and makes himself beloved by them, by approving of what they love. The ambiti∣ous man hath no fence against him, when he hath discover'd his Passions; as he esteems of nothing more than Vain-glory, he foregoes any thing he hath to acquire it, and thinks to be a greater gainer by the Exchange, wherein he parts with real goods for empty words; and to be brief, the whole World must confess, that our Passions are chains which make us Slaves to all such as know how to manage them well.
When the Paricide, Cataline, had vowed the ruin of his Country, and had resolved to change the Roman Commonwealth into a cruel Tyranny, he corrupted all the young men by
accomodating himself to their desires; he ap∣peased Confederates by flattering their humour; he won their good wills, by following their in∣clinations; and by promising Preferment to such as were ambitious; women to such as were lascivious; and riches to the avaritious.
Thus must the Wheedle act if he intends his design shall prove prosperous; and herein he exactly imitates the Devil, who hath great lights (though he be Prince of darkness;) and as he knows all mens tempers, he fits all his suggestions to their desires, and propounds nothing to them which is not conformable to their inclinations. To the proud he proffers honour, he awakens the Passion which possesseth them, and engageth them in unlawful ways to compass pernicious designs, and endeavours to perswade them, that whatsoever they commit (though never so bad, if reputation may he gotten thereby) is glorious, and praise worthy. He sollicits the voluptuous by infamous pleasures; if he cannot commend their Villanies, he seeks out names to excuse them: he terms that natural, which is irrational, and, as if Nature and Reason were at Enmity, he counsels them to follow the former, and for∣sake the latter. He encourageth the Furious to Revenge; he gives gallant Titles to shameful Passions; he endeavours to make the resentment of an injury pass for an act of Justice and Gallan∣try,
and contradicting all Maxims of Christianity, he establisheth the greatness of courage in hatred and Murder. He perswades the avaritious that there is nothing more generally sought after than Riches: that our Ancestors have reveren∣ced it, that our Successors will honour it; that people who differ in other opinions, agree in the reputation they put hereupon; that Poverty is infamous, that it is the contempt of Rich men, and indeed the scorn of most men.
Non habet infoelix Paupertas durius in se Quam quod ridiculos homines facit——
There's naught in Poverty so bad as this, Applaudits ne'r attend it, but an Hiss.
In fine, these two colloguing Enemies, the Wheedle, and the Devil, undo alike by flattering men; they gain upon their understandings by their affections, so beat them with their own Weapons, and by a dangerous piece of cunning employ their Passions to corrupt their wills. In what manner the Wheedle works upon the Passi∣ons to his advantage, shall be discoursed in some following Chapters.
DIvers are the Opinions of men about the Passions; some will have them placed in the neathermost parts of the Soul; some imagin they are framed in the Body; and thus they differ too about their numbers; some will ac∣knowledge but two, as Aristotle, &c. The Aca∣demicks admit of four principal Passions, Desire and Fear, Joy and Sorrow, and that all others are comprehended by them; thus Hope, Auda∣city, and Choler, are ranked under Desire; De∣spair, and Aversion under Fear, and that all of them together do determine in Joy or Sorrow. The Peripateticks did multiply them, and groun∣ded their Number upon the divers motions of the Soul; for the Soul (say they) hath either an inclination or aversion to the Objects with which she is either pleased or displeased; and this is Love or Hatred; or else she shuns them, and this is Eschewing; or she draws near unto them, and this is Desire; or she promiseth to her self the fruition of what she wisheth, and this is Hope; or she cannot defend her self from the Evil which she apprehends, and this is
Despair; or she endeavours to withstand it, and this is Audacity; or she chears her self up to o∣vercome it, and this is Choler: Lastly, she either possesseth the good, and this is Joy, or suffereth the evil, and this is Sorrow.
Others will have the Passions to be in Number just Eleven, Love, Desire, Delight, Hatred, Abomination, Sorrow, Hope, Despair, Fear, Ire, and Audacity: this may be experimented in most Beasts, but especially in a Wolf preying on a Sheep, and rescued by the Shepheard and his Dogs.
A French Philosopher, and a very witty and wise man, ranks the Passions after this manner, which he calls simple Passions, and thus he de∣fines them.
First, Love, whereby the Soul doth issue out of her self, and is a motion of the Appetite, whereby the Soul is enclined towards a supposed good in order to its union thereunto. Monsieur Senault is of the same opinion with St. Augustine, maintaining, that Love is the only Passion which doth agitate us, or hath operations in us; for all the motions which molest the Soul are but so many disguised Loves; our Fears, and Desires, our Hopes, and Despairs, our Delights, and Sorrows, are countenances which Love puts on, according to the events of good, or bad success, and as the Sea carries diverse names,
according to the different parts of the Earth which are thereby watered; so doth Love change her name according to the different e∣states wherein she finds her self; or as among the Heathen, every perfection of the Almighty past for a several Deity, so amongst Philoso∣phers the different qualities of Love have been taken for different Passions.
Secondly, Hate, whereby the Soul retires into her self, and, separating her self, recedes from the Evil.
Thirdly, Pleasure is a motion of the Appetite, whereby the Soul is dilated, and spreads her self into the Good, in order to her more absolute Possession thereof.
Fourthly, Grief is a motion of the Appetite, whereby the Soul contracts her self to shun the Evil which presses upon her.
Fifthly, Constancy is a motion whereby the Soul is fortified, and grows resolute in order to the resistance of those ills that set upon her.
Sixthly, Consternation is a motion, where∣by the Soul is weakned, and gives way to the violence of the Evil.
Seventhly, Audacity violently bestirs her self against the Evil to overcome it.
Eightly, Fear faintly retreats, and with a certain precipitation shuns the Evil, which she sees coming upon her. The compounded
Passions according to his opinion are, Hope, Arrogance, Impudence, Emulation, Anger, Re∣pentance, Shame, Jealousie, Compassion, Envy, and Agony.
First, Hope is a mixture of the Good, and the constancy a man expresses in opposing the difficulties whereby it is encompassed.
Secondly, Arrogance proceeds from Philauty, or Self-love, and the audacity a man hath to surprize another.
Thirdly, Impudence is framed of the pleasure and confidence a man hath to do unhandsom things.
Fourthly, Emulation is a mixture of grief, unto which man is subject, for not being Ma∣ster of those Perfections, with which he imagins another to be invested, and the hope of being able to acquire them.
Fifthly, Anger consists in the grief which a man endures for an injury received, and the audacity he hath to retort it.
Sixthly, Repentance proceeds from the grief which a man conceives from the Evil which he hath committed, attended by a detestation of it, which may be termed a kind of Audacity.
Seventhly, Shame proceeds from a mixture of Grief, and fear of Infamy.
Eightly, Jealousie is a composition of Love, Hate, Fear, and Despair.
Ninthly, Compassion consists of the grief which other mens misfortunes raise in us, and a fear that we our selves may fall into the like incon∣veniences.
Tenthly, Envy is a mixture of grief, and a certain Despair of coming to the enjoyment of that good which we see happen to others.
Lastly, Agony is a mixture of grief, fear, and audacity.
To give you a particular account of all the Pas∣sions, with their Characters at large, describing all the good and bad uses that are to be made of them, will be a task too remote from my pre∣sent subject; however I shall acquaint you how the Wheedle fingles out some of them, and what large advantages he makes of them, thriving like a Toad, by feeding on what is bad or ve∣nemous.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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,
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.
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.
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.
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.
SOciety is that which is coveted, and desired by all Creatures, nothing in the Creation is averse to it, but the Melancholick, the malig∣nity of whose humour and solitary inclination renders him unfit to live, being so incongruous to the sociable Inhabitants of the Vniverse. Rather than be absolutely alone, Ovid said it was something to live with sharp and cruel winds.
Scilicet est aliquid cum Saevis vivere ventis.
But how dangerous a thing it is to venture in∣to a general acquaintance, every one knows that hath been accounted a Company-keeper. It is not the Multitude of Acquaintance, but the goodness thereof should be coveted, and it is impossible but he must be soil'd with Vice, who runs into all Companies: this was it which made Seneca thus complain; Avarior redeo, ambitiosior, imo crudelior, & inhumanior quia in∣ter homines fui.
But what cares our Wheedle with whom he associates, they cannot be worse than himself; he cares not what their Vices are, so that he can extract the best benefit from them; and the
larger his acquaintance is the better for him, ha∣ving more variety of subiects to work upon, and his comfort is, he cannot want them, since there is nothing easier than to create them; the meer being in company once doth it, and this shall be reason sufficient for him, if he meet the Person some years after, to shake him by the hand, and with a counterfeit countenance of joy embracing him, invite him to the Tavern, where ten to one he makes him pay the reckoning for this unex∣pected salutation: if he will be borrowing money of him, there is no better way for that Person that would be rid of him, than to lend him some; for, this shall keep him at a greater distance with his Creditor, than if his constant Companions were Pox, Pestilential Bubo's, and a thousand Car∣buncles: not but that he will borrow mony some∣time for no other end than to pay it exactly ac∣cording to time prefixt, that by his honest pun∣ctuality he may have a better opportunity of borrowing a greater Sum, of which he never intends to pay a farthing.
Acquaintance is the first draught of those whom he designs to make his friends, and lays them down often before him, as the foul Copy before he can write perfect and true; from hence, as from a Probation, he takes his degree in Mens respects, till at last he wholly possess them: by this means he impropriates, and encloses to
himself what before lay in common to others. The ordinary use of acquaintance is but some∣what a more boldness in Society, a Copartner∣ship in discourse, News, Mirth, Meat, and Recreation; but our Wheedle makes a further advantage by making all these subservient to some design, according to the nature of them. For, as to discourse, the gingling words of others don't delight him so much as their giddy brains; and no talk so pleasant, as that which detects the intrigues of other men; he is then all Ear, and if he speak it is but to provoke others to talk on for further discovery: if he talk himself, it is with submission to the company, and concludes that condescention with Your faithful friend, and Servant, and being gon never thinks of any of them, but when he must use them, or stands in need of their assistance. Next as to News, he finds it more beneficial to him than an Office of Intelligence to others, and picks thence more beneficial matter, than if he had pickt up in the Street Rings, Watches, &c. so often mentioned in the Gazette to have been casually dropt, and lost: as to meat, drink, mirth and recreation he makes them not only satisfy Nature, and please the Senses, but he makes them also instrumental in cloathing the body, and that not meanly, as oc∣casion shall require; and this is a thing so easi∣ly to be done, that in this case, I judge it
needless to demonstrate it in what manner.
Friendship, like Children, is engendred by a more inward mixture, and coupling together; wherefore when the Wheedle intends an invasion on the Secrets of other mens hearts, he first dis∣covers some of his own (of no great consequence) with a thousand injunctions, and engagements not to discover the least tittle thereof to any Soul living; by this he engages the other to a bold discovery of his own faults, Passions, and Vicious inclinations, his fear, shame, and, it may be, something that may tend to the ruin of the Rela∣tor, if it be discovered, which the Wheedle vows shall never be so done by him till death, nor then neither; yet, for this unadvised folly he will be sure to make him his slave all the days of his life, and fear shall so shackle him, that he must neither displease, nor deny him any thing that lyes within the Verge of his estates ability. A Secret, when discover'd, no longer is our own, but his that hears it, and is no longer his than there is a compliance with the humour of that Person: at length being prostituted by two ma∣ny owners, it becomes the shame, and infamy of the first imprudent Guardian.
Much more might be said of Acquaintance, the subject being very large; now to avoid pro∣lixity I shall skip from this, and fall upon the next branch of this Chapter, viz. Conversation,
which renders men sociable, and makes up the greatest commerce of our lives, and therefore we cannot take too much care to render our dis∣course pleasing, and profitable.
It is not my intent to discover the means con∣ducible to make every man (justly) succesful in conversation, but I will only declare (as briefly, as I may) what course the Wheedle undertakes to make his designs hit, according to the nature of those Persons with whom he hath converse. He hath (or ought to have) a Memory inricht with variety of matter, in conjunction with such a Judgment, that may both regulate his speech, and engage him to view with circumspection what he is obliged to observe: for Example sake; would it not be ridiculous instead of amorous courtship to entertain a young Lady with School-boy questions, as what is Latin for a Dripping-pan, and Greek for a Pair of Tongs; or to talk of nothing for an hour together to a Quaker, but what rare sport there was the other day at the Bear-Garden, or, to tell him what excellent Scenes there are in Macbeth, and the late rectified inimitable Tempest? Things as incon∣gruous to some company I have seen brought in by head and shoulders in discourse, but the Whee∣dle taking notice what great offence it gave, and how tedious, and intollerable such talk was to those whose humours were at enmity with such
Conversation, keeps aloof from this dangerous way of speaking, and takes a course not to dis∣please, by talking well upon that subject he un∣derstands, (it not, to be silent) and likewise by taking special notice of the Time, and Place wherein he doth discourse, and in that, as all men ought to have a regard to Truth, he does not, yet loves it well in others: he holds this as one principal Article in his Creed, that none can thrive apace, and prosper without a continual dissi∣mulation, and profession of never speaking his thoughts aright; so far he may be excused, that if he is about some good Employ, or some advantagious design by Bargain or Sale, &c. I hold it not re∣quisit, nay ridiculous, if he proclaim his preten∣tions, or discover the means he intends to use for advantage; for should he be so indiscreet he then would give light to others to anticipate, and pre∣judice his projections. A prudent dissimu∣lation is allowable, especially of some dangerous truth, when the effects of it will be only an unsea∣sonable exasperation, and perhaps draw upon our selves, Envy, Hate, or Contempt. It is the continuallying and dissimulation that must be con∣demn'd, and hated, if for no other Reason, than that in process of time no man will believe its constant Practiser; for though he caress well, promise much, be civil, and obliging; yet, by his frequent lying, he will at length be found
out; then will all his actions be narrowly scan'd, and by them found to be as an Hireling in a Play-house; who says what he thinks not; whose only care is to acquit himself well of that part he hath undertaken to Act, knowing he shall not (when the Play is ended) go without his Re∣ward, with future encouragement.
As he can in other discourse lye, reserve, and equivocate for his own benefit, so by the help of Nature, and his own Labours, he hath treasured up in his Memory, a great number of choice things, which makes him restitution, when he hath occasion to make use of them, which is a great and necessary succour to him when he intends to delight, and win upon the company by his Railery, which by its designed delicacy and fineness, heightens conversation when it is flagging, and infinitely obliges in Society. When he jests himself, he speaks so indifferently, and is so seemingly unconcern'd, that onewould think he understood not what he said; but this is his cunning, that thereby he may the more pleasingly surprize, and by his silence make room for others laughter; but when others jest, there shall be nothing wanting in his face which may not ex∣press a more than common satisfaction. He studies Jokes, Repartees, &c. to no other end than to please in Conversation; for, nothing con∣tributes more to delightful diversion, than returns
which are facetiously surprizing; wherefore he takes special care to muzzle all his biting jests, and never lets them show their Teeth, till he is too Satyrically overwitted, and then, to the rescue of his reputation, he freely lets them run without constraint.
Sometimes the Wheedle (perswaded by his good cloaths, and pusht forward by his confi∣dence) gets admittance into the Society of such as are much above him, where if he hear any vain, effeminate, and impertinent person, eagerly discoursing the conduct of some amorous Fe∣male Conquests, as the Wife of Mr. Fribble, my Ladies Woman, or an Actoress, I say, if it be his chance, or design, that cast him into that Company, he will give all attention imaginable, and with as much astonishment, as at the de∣scription of some Bloody Siege, if in the Rela∣tion, the Amorish borrows Metaphors from War to illustrate the Infamy of that Victory.
To please this Lump of Brutality the more by his words and behaviour, he makes him be∣lieve, that in such an adventure he ought to e∣steem himself the happiest of Lovers, by mag∣nifying his Victory, not depending on Chance, or the weakness of the Sex vanquisht; but to his irristible Person, Wit, and Eloquence, ad∣ding other commendations which may make his Masculine Vigour and Courage look big in his
own Eye, so that he may believe himself to be in no capacity of fear for any Competitor, and an absolute Conquerour when e'er he intends to attaque any Maiden Fortress, or well forti∣fied Old Garrison.
Having possest him with so good an Opinion of his own excellencies in general, he then sin∣gles him out, and for further proof of his pro∣digious Valour, whispers him in the Ear, where lies the perfect pattern of all Beauty, and its concomitants, insinuating withal the greatness of her Virtue and severe Continence; that this admired piece deserves his trial, having tyred all her Assailants by the long continued Siege, and none could ever yet make a breach in her Walls; that if he could (coming last) storm, or enter this Cittadel by a voluntary surrender, he might then conclude the total conquests of all other VVorlds of Women, and sit down at length with Alexander, and weep there are no more to conquer.
The Gallant thus prickt on, and animated to make this bold attempt, is impatient till he enter the Lists; the Wheedle shows him then where this Inchanted Castle lies; what Avenues there are to it; what inestimable Treasures it contains; how guarded and defended by two mighty Gyants, Chastity and Temperance; two Angels her constant Centinels; how deeply
Moated and Intrenched; two Ivory Pillars stan∣ding at the Entrance of the Gate, &c. all these do rather encourage, than dishearten the bold Knight, who without any help (nay, not so much as his Squires) boldly makes an Onset, and in the attempt, surpriseth the Centinels, destroys the Gyants, dams up the Moat, enters the Tren∣ches, and with his single hand makes himself Commander of the place, but endeavouring to find out where the Treasure lay hid, was blown up by a Mine of White-Gun-Powder, which though it made no Report, yet did Execution to his great dammage and dishonour.
But to return to our purpose; let the Wheedle be where he will, and in what company soever, he is very cautious how he speaks to the disad∣vantage of another, but to the advantage; and though some impute this way of speaking to flattery, since it is advantagious, he holds it excusable; thus some are of opinion, That if a lye bring dammage to none, and is of profit to some, it may be dispenced with, if the nature of the Sub∣ject forbid it not.
Superiours, and those from whom he expects some kindness, he seldom or never contradicts, fearing to offend, and so lose them; and the truth of it is, contradictions are seldom grateful and acceptable to any. The opinions of others, though in themselves very extravagant, he glibly
swallows as approved Maxims in appearance, and the little follies, indiscretions and levities, which are committed in his company, he is so far from reproving, that he reproves himself thereby, by approving seemingly of them, and by considering wherein they may be profitable to him, whether for the present entertainment, or future accomplishment of any other design.
There is no remedy but that there must be some indulgence to flattery, but not in all its kinds: for great flatteries sometimes succeed worse, than if there were used none at all; be∣cause, he who is so flatter'd, is apt to enter into an opinion that there is an intention of de∣ceiving.
To sum up all, as well Princes as other men are composed of the four Humours, and are thereby inclined in their affections, according to the degree of the humour which is most pre∣dominant in them, regarding their change by Age, Affairs, and Conversations, so the manner of the Wheedles procedure changeth too, and answers the inclinations of both Sexes, which are various, and almost infinite. To the Volup∣tuous, he is a Pimp to serve his pleasures; with the Drunkard he will drink, so that he may ad∣vance himself thereby, as a mean Scab was pre∣fer'd before many Noblemen of Rome to the Questure, because he had pledg'd Tiberius a whole
Amphora of wine; with the falacious Nero he will be Tigilinus, or a Petronius to be Arbiter of the elegance of his Luxury. I need not pro∣duce more instances how he Insinuates into all humours, but conclude, that he who will (like the Wheedle) gain the favour of all men, and make advantages of them in all respects, must comply with, or second their Inclinations and Passions.
Give me leave to add some few Observations concerning the Age, and Fortune of Men, and I shall conclude the Theorical part of the Art of Wheedling.
He that intends to be skilful in this Art, must well observe the exterior conditions of Persons, which are subservient to the judging of the interi∣or, and whence they proceed, viz. from Age, or from their Fortune; the Age of Man, in which the difference of manners are principally to be observed, are Youth, Man-hood, and Old Age.
The young man is soon led away, ready to execute his desires, ardent in the prosecution, and not easily satisfied in the enjoyment of Plea∣sures, Inconstant, soon Cholerick, Profuse, or Prodigal, as having never tried what want means, Having never had the Black Ox tread on his Toe. he is simple for want of Observation and Ex∣perience, which were enough to lay him too open to the subtlety of the selfish Insinuator,
if the foregoing qualities were left out.
Moreover young men having never been de∣ceived, nor cheated any way by the Wheedling Crafts-Masters of the Town, knows not what it means, and being puft up with Hope, they pro∣mise to themselves Mountains, and are buoyed up by the fair promising pretences of these Town∣shifts, till they have an opportunity to effect their ends. These young mens hopes are great, and being Cholerick to boot, they readily en∣terprise any thing, and the hopes they have of effecting what they propose to themselves, makes them affraid of nothing, and do easily enter in∣to a confidence of themselves and others: Danger is never nearer than when security lies at the Door: and following rather splendid Vani∣ties than what is profitable, they either by the subtle instigations of the Wheedle disable their flight, by singing their wings at the flame of a (glittering) Candle, or being suffocated with Sweets, lie Buried in a Hony-pot.
Love and Friendship is more strong in youth than any other Age, and both of them (without great caution) prove equally destructive.
Old men are of a quite different humour; for by their long aboad in the world, and con∣verse with men of divers sorts, they have been frequently cheated and deceived, and therefore are suspicious and distrustful; the effects of that
fear which freezes their hearts, and the expe∣rience they have of the infidelity of men, makes them love none, and are jealous of all; where∣fore the premises considered, I know not what advantages can be made of him (if he be cove∣tous too, which is natural to all aged people) unless, like the Hog, after decease to feed his Relations, whom in his life time he half starved by his boundless Avarice.
From these two Extremities it is easie to de∣scribe the Age of Manhood, who is at an equal distance from the presumption of the Young, and timerousness of the Ancient; and if there be adjoyn'd unto it all the advantages which are separate from young and old Age, and the de∣fects and excesses of Ages more moderate, so that Age becomes less lyable to the prejudices the Wheedle doth design against it.
From the Ages of man I should proceed to their different Fortunes and conditions, but that is a work I design for the following Section, where I shall endeavour to give you a faithful account of several private and publick Practicers of this mysterious Art and Science.