The gentlewomans companion; or, A guide to the female sex containing directions of behaviour, in all places, companies, relations, and conditions, from their childhood down to old age: viz. As, children to parents. Scholars to governours. Single to servants. Virgins to suitors. Married to husbands. Huswifes to the house Mistresses to servants. Mothers to children. Widows to the world Prudent to all. With letters and discourses upon all occasions. Whereunto is added, a guide for cook-maids, dairy-maids, chamber-maids, and all others that go to service. The whole being an exact rule for the female sex in general. By Hannah Woolley.

THE Introduction.

THE right Education of the Female Sex, as it is in a manner every where neglected, so it ought to be generally lamented. Most in this depraved later Age think a Wo∣man learned and wise enough if she can distinguish her Husbands Bed from ano∣thers. Certainly Mans Soul cannot boast of a more sublime Original than ours, they had equally their efflux from the same eternal Immensity, and therefore capable of the same improvement, by good Education. Vain man is apt to think we were meerly intended for the Worlds propaga∣tion, and to keep its humane inhabitants sweet and clean; but, by their leaves, had we the same Literature, he would find our brains as fruitful as our bodies. Hence I am induced to believe, we are debar'd from the knowledg of humane lear∣ning, lest our pregnant Wits should rival the

towring conceits of our insulting Lords and Masters.

Pardon the Severity of this expression, since I intend not thereby to infuse bitter rebellion into the sweet blood of Females; for know, I would have all such as are enter'd into the honourable state of Matrimony, to be loyal and loving Sub∣jects to their lawful (though lording) Husbands. I cannot but complain of, and must condemn the great negligence of Parents, in letting the fertile ground of their Daughters lie fallow, yet send the barren Noddles of their Sons to the Univer∣sity, where they stay for no other purpose than to fill their empty Sconces with idle notions to make a noise in the Country.

Pagans of old may teach our Christian Parents a new lesson. Edesia, an Infidel, taught her Daugh∣ters Learning and Morality. Cornelia, hers (with the Greek Tongue) piety. Portia, hers (with the learning of the Egyptians) the exemplary grounds of Chastity. Sulpitia, hers (with the knowledg of several Languages) the precepts of conjugal Uni∣ty. These, though Ethnicks, were excellent infor∣mers of youth; so that their Children were more bound to them for their breeding than bearing, nurturing than nursing. Emulation of goodness is most commendable; and though you cannot hang up the pictures of these worthy per∣sons, so that their memories may live with you; however, imitate their Virtues, that their me∣mories may live fresher in you. All memorials, being materials, be they never so durable are sub∣ject to frailty, only the precious monuments of Virtue survive time, and breathe eternity.

Thus as ye take good example from others, be ye Mother-patterns of Virtue to your Daugh∣ters: Let your living actions be lines of their direction. While they are under your command, the error is yours not theirs, if they go astray. Their honour should be one of the cheifest things you are to tender, neither can it be blemish'd without some soil to your own credit.

I have known some inconsiderate Mothers, and those none of the lowest rank and quality, who either out of the confidence of their Daughters good carriage, or drawn with the hopes of some rich Suitors to advance their Marriage, have usu∣ally given too free way to opportunity, which brought upon their Daughters name a spreading infamy. Suffer not then those who partake of your image, to lose their best beauty. Look then to your own actions, these must inform them; look to your own examples, these must confirm them. Without you, they cannot perish; with you they may. What will you do with the rest that is left, when you see a part of your self lost.

There is no instruction more moving, than the example of your living. By that line of yours they are to conform their own. Take heed then lest the damp of your own life extinguish the light of your Childrens. As you are a kind Mother to them, be a careful Monitor about them; and if your busi∣ness will permit, teach them your self, with their letters, good manners. For there is an in-bred, filial fear in Children to their Parents, which will beget in them more attention in hearing, and re∣tention in holding what they hear. But if it be inconsistent with your conveniency, and that

you must commit the Tutelage and education of your Children to a Governess, give me leave to inform you what she ought to be.

The duty and qualifications of a Governess to Gentlemens Children.

THey who undertake the difficult Employ of being an Instructress or Governess of Chil∣dren, should be persons of no mean birth and bree∣ding, civil in deportment, and of an extraordi∣nary winning and pleasing conversation. They should not be harsh in expression, nor severe in correcting such as are under their charge; but in∣struct them with all mildness, cheerfully incoura∣ging them in what they are injoin'd to perform; not suddenly striking, nor startling them with a loud rebuke, which causeth in some an aversness to what they should love, imbittering all the for∣mer delight they had in learning. Whereas if you woo them with soft words, you will soon find them won by the testimony of their good works.

There is so much servility in rigor and restraint, that of consequence there can be no greater ene∣my to Ingenuity and good nature. Fools are to be always bauld upon, and blows are fitter for beasts than rational creatures; wherefore there can no∣thing more engage an ingenious generous soul, than cheerfulness and liberty; not over-frightned. I have often observed the many ill consequences which attends an unadvised severity. A Gentle∣woman of my acquaintance, who was well born and bred, and every way accomplisht for a Tuto∣ress to young Ladies, lost all her employment in

that faulty, by her irresistible passion. Another in Dorsetshire being somewhat aged, and suspecting her strength was not able to grapple with active youth, call'd up her maid to her assistance, with whose help she so cruelly chastised a young Gen∣tlewoman for some fault she had committed, that with grief and shame she died in a little time after. Many more instances I could insert, but I shall forbear to publish further the shame of such inconsiderate rashness.

As I must condemn the insolent severity of such a Governess, so I must not let pass without reproof the tyranny of some Mothers, whose pre∣sence makes their Children tremble, without the commission of a fault; by which means they many times with their imperiousness frighten their love into an abhorrency of their fight; to be sure they make them tell many a lye to excuse their negli∣gence, (which otherwise they would not do) only that for that time they might escape the rigor of their punishment. Yet I would not have any mistake me in my perswading young Gentlewo∣men to be used mildly, and tenderly, that I in∣tend thereby their over-indulgence, so as to let their tender age rust in sloth and vanity; all that I would have a Mother do, is, that she would be moderate in the correction of an offence, lest by correcting one, she commit another, and so transgress that positive command in holy Writ, Parents provoke not your children to wrath.

A Governess is to study diligently the nature, disposition, and inclination of those she is to teach; and so by suiting their humours, make their study the more facile, by how much it is more pleasant

to them; praising such and such of their own age, that are thus and thus qualified, which will breed in them an emulation to tread in their foot∣steps. If she finds any addicted to reading, let her ask the question, What she thinks of such a Book she hath read? by the answer she may easily conjecture at the strength of her Intellect: If she find her a lover of conversation, it will not be amiss to ask what she thinks of such a Gentlewo∣man or Gentleman whose virtues she hath a great esteem for; when she hath return'd an answer to the demand, let the Governess require a reason for her so saying; which in the approving or con∣demning will not only make the Scholar cautious of what she delivers, but give a great insight both into her disposition and understanding.

Whatever she doth, let her have a special care in obstructing the growth of evil manners, and ingraft the good, stifle in the very birth those cor∣ruptions which will grow in the purest natures without an indefatigable circumspection.

Countenance not an untruth by any means, especially if they stand in it; this is a very great vice, and argues an inclination impudently vici∣ous; there is a fault contrary to this, and shall be reckoned in the number of infirmities, when by an over-modesty, and too much bashfulness, a young Maid cannot hold up her head when spoken to; and if askt a question, would blush, as if by some gross miscarriage she had lately contracted a guilt. This sudden alteration of the countenance may breed an undeserv'd suspition, and therefore it ought to be corrected discreetly with good in∣struction. Favour not obstinacy by any means, for

flattery in this case will spoil the Gentlewoman.

Be the incessant tormentor of her sloath, left by proving burdensome to others, she at length be∣comes so to her self, by which means her under∣standing starves, and her body contracts an Hos∣pital of Diseases. This you may remedy by suffer∣ing her not to sleep over long, lest the spirits be over dull'd, as well as by too little rest.

If the season be dry, walk them in the fields; if not, some moderate exercise within doors, which will be instrumental in keeping them from the knowledg of the Physician. And now since Na∣ture only gives us a beeing; and education, a well being; the Parent or Governess ought to have a special care how she seasons youth with what is most conducible to the orderly and prudent ma∣nagement of the concerns of this life; let such a foundation be therefore laid which may sufficient∣ly promise the Parents a happy issue, when their Children shall arrive to maturity of age.

Letters undoubtedly is the first step to the per∣fection of knowledg, by which means they come to improve their own understandings by the help of others: Reading furnisheth them with agree∣able discourse, and adopts them for the conver∣sation of the most ingenious, without which I know not how the fancy can be supplied with what is acceptable to the Auditor. How little would conversation signifie, did not reading on all occasions find matter for discourse. The want of which hath made so many Country-Gentlewomen stand like so many Mutes or Statues when they have hapned into the company of the ingenious; their quaint expressions have seem'd to them Ara∣bian

sentences; and have stared like so many di∣stracted persons, in that they should hear the sound of English, and yet understand but here and there a word of their own language. The consideration hereof is sufficient one would think to make the preposterous suspitions of some to vanish, who vainly imagine that Books are Womens Academies, wherein they learn to do evil with greater subtil∣ty and cunning; whereas the helps of Learning, which are attained from thence, not only fortifies the best inclinations, but enlargeth a mean capacity to a great perfection.

Having thus proved, That the reading Books doth much conduce to the improving the under∣standing of young Gentlewomen, it behoveth the Governess to be careful in her choice of them. In the first place let them read some choice pieces of Piety, which may inflame their hearts with the love of God, and kindle in them ardent desires to be early followers of the Doctrine of Christ Jesus. Let there be a strict watch to keep unviolated the two gates of the Soul, the Ears and Eyes; let the last be imployed on good and proper Subjects, and there will be the less fear that the Ears should be surpriz'd by the converse of such who delight in wanton and obscene discourses, which too often do pleasantly and privately insinuate themselves into the Ear, carrying with them that unwhol∣some air which infects and poysons the purity of the Soul.

I know it will be expected what sort of Books of Piety, I would recommend to the perusal of these Gentlewomen; London affords such plenty of them, I know not which to pitch on; not to trouble

you with too many, take these which follow: Bi∣shop Vshers Body of Divinity. Mr. Swinnocks Christian-calling. Mr. Firmins Real Christian. Mr. James Janeways book, Intituled, Acquaintance with God betimes; and his Token for Children when they are young.

Some may imagin, that to read Romances after such practical Books of Divinity, will not only be a vain thing, but will absolutely overthrow that fabrick I endeavoured to erect: I am of a con∣trary opinion, and do believe such Romances which treat of generosity, gallantry, and virtue, as Cassandra, Clelia, Grand Cyrus, Cleopatra, Parthe∣nessa, not omitting Sir Philip Sydney's Arcadia, are Books altogether worthy of their Observation. There are few Ladies mention'd therein, but are character'd what they ought to be; the magna∣nimity, virtue, gallantry, patience, constancy, and courage of the men, might intitle them worthy Husbands to the most deserving of the female sex. Thus having qualified them for reading, you should so practice them in their pen, as not to be ignorant in a Point de Venice, and all the Productions of the Needle, with all the curious devices of Wax-work, Rock-work, Moss-work, Cabinet-work, Bengle-work, &c. and in due time let them know how to Pre∣serve, Conserve, Distill; with all those laudible Sciences which adorn a compleat Gentlewoman.

Having thus characteriz'd in part, what a Go∣verness ought to be, I shall with your leave and patience give you some account of my self.

A Short account of the life and abilities of the Authoress of this Book.

I Would not presume to trouble you with any passages of my life, or relate my innate quali∣fications, or acquired, were it not in obedience to a Person of Honour, who engag'd me so to do, if for no other reason than to stop the mouths of such who may be so maliciously censorious as to believe I pretend what I cannot perform.

It is no ambitious design of gaining a name in print (a thing as rare for a Woman to endeavour, as obtain) that put me on this bold undertaking; but the meer pity I have entertain'd for such La∣dies, Gentlewomen, and others, as have not recei∣ved the benefits of the tythe of the ensuing Ac∣complishments: These ten years and upwards, I have studied how to repair their loss of time, by making publick those gifts which God hath be∣stow'd upon me. To be useful in our Generation is partly the intent of our Creation; I shall then arrive to the top of the Pyramid of my Content∣ment, if any shall profit by this following Dis∣course. If any question the truth of what I can perform, their trial of me I doubt not but will convince their infidelity.

The things I pretend greatest skill in, are all works wrought with a Needle, all Transparent works, Shell-work, Moss-work, also cutting of Prints, and adorning Rooms, or Cabinets, or Stands with them.

All kinds of Beugle-works upon Wyers, or otherwise.

All manner of pretty toyes for Closets.

Rocks made with Shells, or in Sweets.

Frames for Looking-glasses, Pictures, or the like.

Feathers of Crewel for the corner of Beds.

Preserving all kind of Sweet-meats wet and dry.

Setting out of Banquets.

Making Salves, Oyntments, Waters, Cordials; healing any wounds not desperately dangerous.

Knowledg in discerning the Symptomes of most Diseases, and giving such remedies as are fit in such cases.

All manner of Cookery.

Writing and Arithmetick.

Washing black or white Sarsnets.

Making sweet Powders for the Hair, or to lay among Linnen.

All these and several things beside, too tedious here to relate, I shall be ready to impart to those who are desirous to learn.

Now to the intent I may increase your wonder, I shall relate how I came to the knowledg of what I prosess. When I was fourteen years old, I began to consider how I might improve my time to the best advantage, not knowing at that age any thing but what reason and fancy dictated to me. Before I was Fifteen I was intrusted to keep a little School, and was the sole Mistress thereof. This course of life I continued till the age of Se∣venteen, when my extraordinary parts appear'd more splendid in the eyes of a Noble Lady in this Kingdom, than really they deserv'd, who praising my works with the appellation of curious pieces

of Art, was infinitely pleas'd therewith. But un∣derstanding withall, that I understood indifferent∣ly the smooth Italian, and could sing, dance and play on several sorts of Musical Instruments, she took me from my School, and greedily enter∣tained me in her house as Governess of her only Daughter. Unto this honourable Person I am in∣debted for the basis, or ground-work of my Pre∣serving and Cookery, by my observation of what she order'd to be done. By this Ladies means I came acquainted with the Court, with a deport∣ment suitable thereunto.

The death of this Lady gave me a fit opportu∣nity to be entertain'd by another no way inferiour to the former, with whom I lived seven years. At first I was Governess to those of her Children, whose forward virtue sufficiently declared the goodness of the stock from whence they came. Time and my Ladies good opinion of me, consti∣tuted me afterwards her Woman, her Stewardess, and her Scribe or Secretary. By which means I appear'd as a person of no mean authority in the Family. I kept an exact account of what was spent in the house. And as I profited in Externals; so I treasured up things necessary for my under∣standing, having an happy opportunity so to do, nor only by hearing that ingenious and agreeable discourse interfac'd between my Lady and Persons of Honour, but also by inditing all her Letters; in the framing and well fashioning of which (that I might increase my Ladies esteem) I took inde∣fatigable pains. there were not any who both wittily and wisely had publisht their Epistles to view of the world, whom I had not read, and on

all occasions did consult: those which I placed in my greatest esteem were the Letters of Mr. Ford, Mr. Howel, Mr. Loveday, and Monsieur Voiture.

But that which most of all increast my know∣ledg, was my daily reading to my Lady, Poems of all sorts, and Plays, teaching me as I read, where to place my accents, how to arise and fall my voice, where lay the emphasis of the expression. Roman∣ces of the best sort she took great delight in; and being very well verst in the propriety of the French Tongue, there was not any thing pub∣lished by the Virtuosi of France, which carefully and chargably she procur'd not; this put me upon the understanding of that Language, she was so well experienc'd therein, which is as great an Ornament for young Ladies as those learned Tongues, of which the Academical studioso boasts a more than common understanding.

Here as I learned hourly courtly phrases and graces, so how to express my self with the at∣tendency of a becoming air. And as I gather'd how to manage my tongue gracefully, and dis∣creetly; so I thought it irrequisite to let my hands to lye idle. I exercised them daily in carving at Table. And when any sad accident required their help in Physick and Chyrurgery, I was ready to be assisting; in those two excellent arts in this place I acquired a competent knowledg.

In short time I be came skilful, and stayed enough to order an house, and all Offices belonging to it; and gained so great an esteem among the Nobility and Gentry of two Counties, that I was necessi∣tated to yield to the importunity of one I dearly lov'd, that I might free my self from the tedious caresses of a many more.

In the time I was a Wife, I had frequent occa∣sions to make use of all, or most of my aforenamed qualities; and what I exercised not within my own roof, I used among my neighbours, friends, and acquaintants.

That which qualified me as a Governess for Children as well as any thing yet I have mention'd was the great knowledg I had in the humours, inclinations, and dispositions of Children, having often had at one time above threescore in number under my tuition.

Besides, as I have been the Mistress of many Servants, so I have qualified them with my in∣structions to be Mistress to others; the major part of them living very comfortably in a married condition.

As I have taken great pains for an honest liveli∣hood, so the hand of the Almighty hath exercised me in all manner of Afflictions, by death of Pa∣rents when very young, by loss of Husband, Chil∣dren, Friends, Estate, very much sickness, by which I was disenabled from my Employment. Having already given you an account of the duty, and re∣quisite endowments which ought to be in a Go∣verness, and how qualified I was my self in that troublesome conccrn. I shall now proceed in giving young Ladies such Rules which long ex∣perience and observation hath taught me, which may be as their perfect guide in all ages and con∣ditions, the practice whereof will assuredly im∣balm their names here, let their stedfast faith in Jesus Christ only crown them with glory here∣after.

Good Instructions for a young Gentlewoman, from the age of Six to Sixteen.

I Shall suppose your Parents have not been so remiss in their duties as not to furnish your tender age with what it is capable of understan∣ding; and therefore do not question but that you can read well, sow and write indifferently; but I would have, long before you arrive at your teens, your first age water'd with the wholsome and sound doctrine of fearing God. Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth; that thou mayst have, with David, in thy later days this comfortable testimony of thy self, From my youth up have I loved thy Law.

I cannot bewail enough the careless neglect of Parents in this matter, who think neither God nor Nature doth tye them to further regard of their Children than to afford them food, and make them strut in the fashion, learn them to dance and sing, and lastly lay up a considerable summ for some person whom they value by his greatness, not his goodness; but how far that care falls short of what is required from Parents, I appeal to the sad effects thereof, profaness towards God, and a contempt of his people, and not only a daily breach of his holy Laws, but the Laws of civil Society.

Above all things, let the fear of God be improved in you. Omit not by any means the duty of Prayer, Morning and Evening, and forget not to read some portion of the Sctipture every day.

Be very cautious in the choice of your Compa∣nions,

and when your age adapts you for Society, have a care with whom you associate. If you ten∣der your repute, you must beware with whom you consort, for report will bruit what you are by the company which you bear. Would you then pre∣serve those precious odours of your good name? consort with such whose names were never bran∣ded, converse with such whose tongues sor im∣modesty were never taxed. As by good words evil manners are corrected; so by evil words, are good ones corrupted.

Make no reside there where the least occasion of lightness is ministred; avert your ear when you hear it; but your heart especially, lest you harbour it.

It is proverbially said, Maids should be seen, not heard; not that they should not speak, but that they should not be too talkative. A Traveller sets himself out best by discourse, but a Maid is best set out by silence.

For your carriage, let it be in a Mediocrity, nei∣ther too precise, nor too free. These simpring, made-faces partake more of Chamber-maid than Gentlewoman.

Being grown up, you may possibly be wooed to interchange Favours; Rings or Ribbands may seem trifles, yet trust me they are no trifles that are aim'd at in those exchanges. Wherefore let no∣thing pass from you that may any way impeach you, or give others advantage over you. It is probable that your innocent credulity may be free from the conceit of ill as theirs from the intenti∣on of good; but these intercourses of Courtesies are not to be admitted, lest by this familiarity an

entry to affection be opened which before was closed. It is dangerous to enter parley with a be∣leaguring-enemy; it implies want or weakness in the besieged.

Presuming on your own strength is a great weakness; and the ready way to betray your self to dangers, is to contemn them. Presumption is a daring sin, and ever brings out some untimely birth, which, Viper-like, is the destruction of its Parent. I shall desist here in this place from giving you more rules of caution and good behaviour, having design'd another, wherein I intend a more copious relation.

Advice to the Female younger sort.

INcline not to sloth, and love not to laze in bed, but rise early; having drest your self with de∣cency and cleanliness, prostrate your self in all hu∣mility upon your bended knees before God Al∣mighty, beseeching his Infinite Majesty to forgive you whatever sins you have committed in deed, word or thought; begging protection from the sin and evil of that day, and his holy assistance in the prosecution of good all the days of your life. Having said your Prayers, then on your knees ask your Parents Blessing; and what they shall ap∣point for your Breakfast, do you by no means di∣slike or grumble at; waste not too much time in eating thereof, but hasten to School, having first taken your leave of your Parents with all re∣verence. Do not loyter by the way, or play the truant; abuse none whom you meet, but be cour∣teous and mannerly to all who speak with you.

Leave not any thing behind which you ought to carry with you, not only things you learn in or by, but also Gloves, Pocket-Handkerchiefs; and have a special care of any thing that may mischief you by the way.

When you come to School, salute your Mistress in a reverent manner, and be sure to mind what she injoyns you to do or observe. You cannot but live well if you conform to what you hear. Be not offended if your Governess advise you rather what is most fitting, than what is most pleasing; for such is the property of a good Instructress. And these are to be entertained with such indeared respect, as their speeches (be they never so tart) should not incense you; nor their reproofs, be they never so free distaste you; having done this, salute civilly your School-fellows, and then apply your self to your book, work, writing, or what ever else you are to learn.

Show not your ill breeding and want of man∣ners, by eating in the School, especially before your Mistress.

Mind what you are about, and neglect not what you are to do, by vain pratling in the School: make no noise, that you may neither disturb your Mistress, or School-fellows.

When you are called to read, come reverently to your Mistress, or any whom she appoints; avoid reading with a tone, huddle not over your lesson, but strive to understand what you read, and read so plainly, distinctly, and deliberately, that others may understand; if you are doubtful of a word, carefully spell it, and mistake not one word for an∣other; when you have done, return, shewing

your reverence to your place. Whatever work you take in hand, do it cleanly and well, though you are the longer about it; and have a care of wasting or losing any thing that appertains there∣unto. Sit upright at your work, and do not lean or lol: and forbear to carry Children in your arms out of a wanton humour; for these, whilst you are so young, may incline your body to crooked∣ness. If you write, be careful you do not blot your paper; take pains in the true forming or cut∣ting your letters, and endeavour to write true and well after your copy. Preserve your Pens, spill not your Ink, nor flurt it on your own or others clothes, and keep your fingers from being pol∣luted therewith.

Returning from School, make haste home, not gaping on every idle object you meet with by the way. Coming into the house, apply your self im∣mediately to your Parents; and having saluted them according to your duty, acquaint them with what proficiency you have made in your learn∣ing that day; be not absent when Dinner is on the Table, but present when Grace is said; and sit not down before you have done your obeisance to your Parents, and the company then present. Keep your Clothes from greasing, by pinning or keeping your napkin tite about you; and receive what is given you, thankfully. Be not talkative at Table, nay, nor do not speak, unless you are askt a question. Eat not your meat greedily, nor fill your mouth too full; and empty your mouth be∣fore you drink; and avoid smacking in your eat∣ing. Grease not your fingers as those that are slo∣venly, up to the knuckles. You will show your

self too saucy by calling for sawce or any dainty thing. Forbear putting both hands to your mouth at onee; nor gnaw your meat, but cut it hand∣somely, and eat sparingly. Let your nose and hands be always kept clean. When you have dined or supt, rise from the table, and carry your trencher or plate with you, doing your obeisance to the com∣pany; and then attend in the room till the rest rise.

In the intervals of School-time, let your recrea∣tion be pleasant and civil, not rude and boisterous.

Sit not before your betters, unless you are so de∣sired, and unless you are at meat, working, or writing.

Be no make-bate between your Parents and their servants; tell not a lye in any case, nor mince it into a plausible excuse to save you from the hand of correction.

Going to bed, make no noise that may disturb any of the Family, but more especially your Pa∣rents; and before you betake your self to rest, com∣mit your self into the hands of the Almighty; de∣siring his infinite Majesty not only to watch over you in the night, but preserve you for, and assist you in the duties of the ensuing day.

If the Poor beg at your Father's door, though you cannot your self supply his necessities, yet you may do it by perswading your Father or Mother, which may be the sooner induced to it by obser∣ving your early and forward inclination toCharity.

Get that Catechism the Government has made choice of for you, by heart; by the practice of which you will be enabled to perform your duty to God and man.

Behave your self in the Church reverently, giving an awful regard to what sacred truths the Minister shall deliver for your future observation and practice; and do not proclaim publickly to the whole Congregation your levity and vanity, by laughing, talking, pointing with your finger, and nodding, or your careless contempt of Gods word by drowsiness or sleeping.

Do not despise the aged, but rather honour them for their antiquity; and indeed you have but little reason to contemn old people, if you consider this, that you will be old if God shall think fit to continue your days to the length of theirs, and therefore would not be so serv'd your self.

God inable you to observe and practice what I have here already laid down, and give you yiel∣ding hearts to the exercise of what shall hereafter follow to the glory of God, the unspeakable com∣fort of your Friends, and eternal salvation of your immortal Souls.

Thus I have given you general instructions as to your learning and deportment: Give me now leave to insist in particular on the duty you owe your Parents.

The duty of Children to their Parents.

THE duties of a Child (Male or Female) to Pa∣rents, may be branch'd out into these particu∣lars; Reverence, Love, Obedience, (especially in Marriage) assisting them in their wants, nay all these considered as a due debt to the worst of Parents.

You ought in the first place to behave your self towards them with reverence, respect, humi∣lity, and observance; and although their infirmi∣ties may tempt you into a contempt of them, yet you must not despise them in your behaviour, nor let your heart entertain an undervaluing thought. What infirmities they have, you must endeavour to cover and conceal, like Shem and Japhet, who whilst cursed Cham endeavour∣ed to disclose the nakedness of their Father to publick view, they privately covered from the sight of others, that which they debarr'd their own eyes to look upon. It is a great fault in our days, and too frequently practised, for youth not only to deride the imperfections of their Parents, but forge and pretend more than they have, that their counsel and correction may seem rather the effect of weakness, than good judgment in the punish∣ing their Childrens errors. They think they then best express their wit, when they can most flout and abuse grave Counsel. Let such, if they will not practise the exhortations, yet remember the threatnings of the wisest of men, Prov. 30. 17. The eye that mocketh his Father, and despiseth to obey his Mother, the Ravens of the Valley shall pick it out, and the young Eagles shall eat it.

Thus as your behaviour ought to be respectful to them, so ought you to shew them all the de∣monstrations of love imaginable, striving to do them all the good you can, and shunning all the occasions of their disquiet. This you are obliged unto by common gratitude; for they were not only the instruments of bringing you into the world, but of sustaining and supporting you af∣terwards;

if you could but rightly weigh the fears and cares that are required in the bringing up a Child, you would judg your love to be but a moderate return in compensation thereof.

This love is to be exprest several ways: First in all kindness of behaviour, carrying your self not only with awe and respect, but with kindness and affection, which will encourage you to do those things they affect, and make you avoid what may grieve and afflict them.

Secondly, This love is to be exprest in praying for them. The debt a Child owes her Parents is so great, that she can never make satisfaction un∣less she call God to her aid and assistance, by be∣seeching him to multiply his blessings on them. Do not for any temporal benefit, or to be freed from the severity of thy Parents, wish their death. God in the Old Testament hath denounced death and destruction to the Curser of his Parents, and therefore certainly will not let thy ill wishes to∣wards them go unpunished; certainly they who watch for the death of their Parents, may untime∣ly meet with their own.

The third duty we owe them, is Obedience; this is not only contained in the fifth Commandment, but injoined in many other places of Scripture. This obedience extends no farther than to lawful things; otherwise it is disobedience, and offends against a higher duty, even that you owe to God your Heavenly Father. How little this duty is re∣garded, daily experience makes evident; the careful Mother having her child no longer under her command, than under the rod.

Wherefore think not, though grown up to Wo∣mans

estate, that you are freed from obedience; and let not your motive thereunto be out of worldly prudence, fearing to displease your Parents, lest they should diminish your intended portion, and so be a loser thereby; but let your obedience be grounded upon conscience of duty.

But of all the acts of Disobedience, that of Mar∣rying against the consent of Parents is the highest. Children are so much the Goods and Chattels of a Parent, that they cannot without a kind of theft give themselves away without the allowance of those that have the right in them; and therefore we see under the Law, the Maid that had made any Vow, was not suffer'd to perform it without the consent of the Patent, Numb. 30. 5. The right of the Parent was thought of force enough to cancel and make void the obligation even of a vow; and therefore surely it ought to be so much considered by us to keep us from making any such whereby that right is infringed.

A fourth duty is, To minister to, and assist your Parents in what ever necessities or infirmities God Almighty shall think fit to inflict upon them. It may be thy Parent is weak or decay'd in under∣standing, supply his or her wants according to thy ability, since in thy infancy thou didst re∣ceive the same benefits from them. When an infant, you had neither strength to support, nor understanding to guide your self, but was sup∣ply'd with both by your indulgent Parents; where∣fore common gratitude, when either of these be∣comes their case, obligeth you to return the same offices back again to them.

And as for the relieving their Poverty, there

is the same obligation with the former, it being but just to sustain those who had maintain'd thee.

How then shall those answer it, who will not part with, or circumscribe their own excesses and superfluities for the relief of such to whom they owe their being and well-being? and worse it will be with those who out of pride deny their Parents, being themselves exalted, fearing lest the lowness of their condition should betray the mean∣ness of their birth.

Lastly, that I may conclude this Discourse, as∣sure your self, That no unkindness, fault, or poverty of a Parent, can excuse or acquit a child from this duty. Although the gratitude due to a kind Pa∣rent be a forcible motive to make the child pay his duty; yet though our Parent were ever so unna∣tural, yet still we are to perform our duty, though none of that tye of gratitude lie on us.

Take this for all, Honour and obey thy natu∣ral Parents in what condition soever; for if they cannot give thee riches, yet thy Heavenly Father hath promised thee length of days.

Of a young Gentlewomans deportment to her Go∣verness and Servants in the Family.

IF your Parents have committed you to the care and tuition of a Governess in the house with you, think with your self, that this person whom I must now call my Governess, is one whom my Father and Mother have elected and entertain'd for my education, to lessen their own trouble, but not their tender care of me. Therefore if I obey

her not in all things requisite, I transgress the com∣mands of my loving Parents, and displease God in abusing their kindness.

Next, consider within your self, that this person who is constituted the guide of my actions, is such a one as they are confident either in their own judgments, or those who have recommended her, to be fit in all points to perform this charge committed to her; therefore in obedience to them I must and will obey her and follow those good examples and precepts she shall lay down for my better information.

If she seem somewhat harsh, reserv'd, and a∣bridgeth your freedom, yet let not your green years be too forward in condemning her, nor let not the ill counsel of inferior servants perswade you against her; lest by so doing you betray your want of reason and good nature, and detract from your Parents worthy care for you.

If you have just cause of complaint, yet speak not maliciously against her, but truly and oppor∣tunely impart your grief; by this means she will be either removed from you, or regulated by their commands. Be sure therefore that your complaints be just, lest you should have one in her stead who may more justly deserve your censure, and so make your self unhappy by your Parents fears of having a child that is refractory. Besides, think thus with your self, that too often complaining makes dull and careless the Auditor; and instead of extracting compassion, it creates a jealousie of an ill disposition.

If your Governess be a Woman in years, ho∣nour her the more; if young, you may promise

your self more freedom with her; yet if I may advise, I would not have a person too young to have such a charge, for they will have sufficient to do to govern themselves, therefore the more un∣fit to govern others; besides youth will be the more easily induced to submit rather to their El∣ders than their Equals.

What I now declare, is the fruit of experience, having had too great a charge in this nature, when I was very young; and do know how defective I was then in my duty, since I became a Mother of Children, having now more tenderness to youth; and can speak it knowingly, that a mild moderate way is to be preferred before rigor and harshness, and that correction of words is better than that of blows.

Give me leave, Gentlewomen, to wish you a good Governess, not such a one as I have been, but as I could or would be now. I can now with a greater sense look back upon my faults, than I could discern them when first committed: Thus much to your Governess. Now to your Maid who is to dress you.

Be not peevish or froward to her, but sweet∣ly accept her endeavours, and gently admonish her of her neglects or errors; if she be good natur'd and willing to please, this carriage will oblige and command a constant diligence from her; otherwise you will cause her to serve you only for her own ends, and with an eye-service; and whilst you are making a wry face in the Glass, she will make an∣other behind your back.

Be courteous to all the Servants belonging to your Parents, but not over-familiar with any of

them, lest they grow rude and sawcy with you; and indeed too much familiarity is not good with any, for contempt is commonly the product there∣of.

If you can do any Servant good in any thing, either in mitigating your Parents anger towards them, or presenting their humble petition for them, be not slack in so doing, for by this means you will purchase to your self both love and honour.

If any poor body sue to you to beg in their names that which is not unfit for them to ask, do not deny them, and God will not deny you your requests: Do good to all, and turn not your face away from the indigent, but let your charity ex∣tend to their relief and succour.

Be courteous to all people inferior to your qua∣lity; but in such a way, that they may know you understand your self, and this will be a sweet kind of commanding reverence from them, and will give you the character of a good and humble spi∣rit; assure your self it is better to be good than great. Majesty mixt with modesty and humility forcibly commands the service of all; but pride and imperiousness, though in a great person, breeds scorn and contempt in the heart and tongue even of the meanest Peasant. If God hath blest you with birth and fortune above others, be sure your virtue shine with greater luster than others.

Despise not those who have not so great a por∣tion of wit and wealth as you possess; but think with your self, to whom the Lord, gives much he requires much from. As God made nothing in vain, so he gives nothing in vain. That person is not to be trusted, who doth not endeavour to im∣prove

what he is intrusted withal. If you have wisdom, boast not thereof, but give God thanks, and use it to his glory and your own comfort.

What qualifications best become and are most suitable to a Gentlewoman.

I Have already endeavoured to prove, that though Nature hath differ'd mankind into Sexes, yet she never intended any great difference in their Intellect. This will evidently appear not only from those many arguments learned Cornelius Agrippa hath laid down in a particular Treatise for the Vindication of the excellency of the Female-Sex, but likewise from the many learned and in∣comparable Writings of famous Women, ancient and modern, particularly Anna Comnena who wrote the Eastern History in Greek, a large Folio. Nor can we without great ingratitude forget the memory of that most ingenious Dutch Lady Anna Maria a Schurman, who was so much admired by the greatest Scholars in Europe for her unparallel'd, natural and acquired parts, that there were very few (as the great Salmasius, &c.) who did not fre∣quently correspond with her by Letters. Her Opusucla or smaller works are now extant, printed in Holland in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, in which there is a small tract, proving that a Womans ca∣pacity is no way inferior to mans in the reception of any sort of learning; and therefore exhorts all Parents who are not much necessitated, not to let their Children spin away their precious time, or pore on a Sampler, till they have prickt out the date of their life; but rather instruct them in the

principles of those learned Tongues, whereby they may at pleasure pick-lock the Treasuries of Knowledg contained in those Languages, and adapt them for the conversation and discourse of most Nations.

I need not go out of our native Country to produce you Examples enough of our own Sex for your imitation and incouragement in treading the paths of learning; I shall forbear to speak of the incomparable worth and pregnant parts of some Gentlewomen lately deceased, as Mrs. Phi∣lips the ingenious Translatress of Pompey, &c. since what is extant of hers, or her Contempora∣ries will more at large express their matchless me∣rit; nor shall I eulogize or praise the living, nominating any person, left I be thought one parti∣ally addicted to flattery. Yet give me leave to say, I could instance not a few, who (to the glory of our Sex, and the place of their Nativity if occa∣sion modestly required) would not blush to an∣swer a Capricious Virtuoso in three of the most useful Tongues spoken or understood, that is, Latin, French, and Italian.

I desire not to hyperbolize; it is probable they may not be so expert in the anatomizing an In∣sect, or the discovery of some monstrous produ∣ction, as these Epidemical Wits are; yet for ought I know, may find out many monstrosities in their brain, whilst they are subtilly plumming the depth of their self-admired understanding.

Now since it may hence appear, Ladies, that you have no Pygmean Souls, but as capable of Gy∣gantick growth as of your Male-opponents; ap∣ply your self to your Gramar by time, and let

your endeavours be indefatigable, and not to be tired in apprehending the first principles of the Latin tongue. I shall forbear to give you rules for attaining the perfect knowledg thereof, but leave you to that method your Tutor or skilful Go∣verness shall propound for your observation.

I need not tell you the vast advantages that will accrue hereby, your own experience will better inform you hereafter. However I shall hint some; as first, your understanding the Latin tongue will inable you to write and speak true and good English; next, it will accommodate you with an eloquent stile in speaking, and afford you matter for any discourse; lastly, you will be freed from the fear of rencountring such who make it their business to ransack a new world of words to find out what are long and obscure; not regarding how insignificant, if they carry a ratling sound with them. Thus these Fops of Rhetorick, spawns of non-intelligency, will venture the spraining of their tongues, and splay-footing their own mouths, if they can but cramp a young Gentlewomans intellect.

Our English tongue is of late verymuch refined, by borrowing many words from the Latin, only altering the termination; these you will never per∣fectly understand without the knowledg of the Latin, but rather misapply or displace them to your great discredit, although you should con∣sult all the English Interpreters that were ever ex∣tant.

And as our Mother-tongue hath finified her expressions with the Roman dialect; so to make them the more spruce and complacent, she hath

borrowed some choice words from other Nati∣ons, more especially the neighbouring French, whose tongue you must in no sort be ignorant of, if you intend to speak with the air of the Court, or like the quaint Oratresses of the Court∣air.

It is no small benefit which will accrue to you by learning the Italian; for by reason of our Gentries travelling into foreign parts, occasioned by our late unhappy and inhumane home-bred distractions, these two Languages are generally spoken in England; insomuch that a Court-Lady will not be induced to esteem a friend, or enter∣tain a Servant who cannot speak one of them at least: and that you may not despair of a compe∣tent knowledg of either, or both, without going into those Countries where they are naturally spoken, know there are many excellent Masters who teach here in London those Languages; but more especially that sober and learned natural Italian Seignor Torriano; and that unimitable Master of the French Tongue, Monsieur Mauger; both which have publisht their Gramars; the first a large and useful Italian Dictionary also. Both these Countrys have been happy, and may be justly proud in producing so many learned and ingenious men; so many, should I nominate them with their deserved Encomiums, this small Trea∣tise would swell into Volumes; I shall therefore pass them over, but would not have you their Writings, where you shall find plenty of every thing, which shall either tickle your fancy, or fur∣nish your understanding. Having thus adapted you for conversation, let me next show you your deportment therein.

Of a Gentlewomans civil Behaviour to all sorts of people in all places.

A Painter of old being about a draught of a most absolute beauty, propounded for the accomplishment thereof half a dozen of the most exquisite and wonderful fair Maidens he could find, that he might steal from each those charms and features which he thought were most pow∣erful; but I will assure you, a greater assistance is required in the framing and fashioning of a Woman, whose behaviour should be such as to please in all companies. Whatsoever Nature can afford, or good manners inform, come short of this purpose. In this subject the fairest Ornaments are most necessary; among which what I have al∣ready exprest, are highly to be prized, which with the aggregation of all the best qualities can be de∣sired, are the proper things, which as in their Center, must terminate in conversation.

The first things I judg most necessary, and do wish, with Socrates, were in you Ladies, as he de∣sired in his Pupils, are Discretion, Silence and Mo∣desty. But this is too general; wherefore since con∣versation (after the milk) is the first and chiefest thing, both animal as well as rational creatures do most desire and delight in, I shall first advise, as to choice of company; next, your carriage therein, both in gesture, look, speech and habit.

No wonder all Mankind is so generally inclined to conversation, since Life without Society is more insupportable than Death; it is discourse makes us pass over our tedious hours and days with

delight. What a Desart would this World seem without company! and how dangerous would it prove were we not cautious in our election! For example is more forcible than precept; thus by ill company you may gain a bad custom, which all good instructions shall never root out. But should you be so prudent as not to follow their evil example; yet by associating your self, you will inevitably contract a suspition of being as bad as they; this made the Philosopher say, Shew me thy Companion, and I will tell thee what thou art.

Be not easily induc'd to enter into discourse with strangers, for nothing argueth levity and in∣discretion more than that. Consort your self with your betters as near as you can, yet do not de∣spise your equals, but in a most especial manner avoid all familiarity with your inferiors; if Fe∣male, in a little time they will thereby be drawn to slight you; if Male, they will be incouraged to attack your honour unlawfully, or subtilly insinuate themselvcs into your affection, whereby though you are as high in fortune as honourable in birth, you may stoop to so low a contract, that forget∣ing your self by the incessant importunities of their over-blown desires, you are overcome, and so become a grief to your friends, a shame to your selves, and a lamentable spectacle of reproach and sorrow to that worthy Family, from whence you had your Original.

Affect not the vanity of some, in being seen in publick too frequently. Thus many excellent La∣dies have exposed themselves to the mercy of the Tempter, who otherwise had stood impregnable

in the defence of their Chastities. You think, it may be, and intend no harm in your Promenades or walks; but by so doing, you give too often occasion for licentious Amorists to meet with you, and may thereby be perswaded to throw off the vail of circumspection, to give attention to some wanton smutty story. Consult not too much with youthful blood and beauty, lest they prove too dangerous enemies to be your Privy-Coun∣cellors.

Be not guilty of the unpardonable fault of some, who never think they do better than when they speak most; uttering an Ocean of words, without one drop of reason; talking much, ex∣pressing little. Much like that Woman Dr. Heylin unhappily met withal, in his younger years, with whom he was constrained to travel a long Journey in a Coach: So indiscreetly reserved she was at first meeting, that tendring his devoir of a salute, (as it is customary) she would not admit thereof; so speechless withal at first, as if a vow'd resolution had tied up her tongue to the strict observance of an everlasting silence; but the next day, she so far presumed on the slenderness of the acquaintance, that, though she was so silent be∣fore, she then opened upon their setting forward; and the continual click of her tongue never ceast till the Sun was set; which the motion of her tongue, and the Doctor's watch, kept exact time for eleven hours; and notwithstanding her seeming modesty in refusing a kiss, did now vo∣luntarily prompt him to a close imbrace.

As I would not advise you to be over-reserv'd, so give not too loose reins to liberty, making

pleasure your vocation, as if you were created for no other end than to dedicate the first fruits of the morning to your Looking-glass, and the re∣mainder thereof to the Exchange, or Play-house. Many of our Sex are too blame, who have no sooner ting'd their faces artificially, than some At∣tendant is dispatcht to know what Plays are to be acted that day; my Lady approveth of one which she is resolved to see, that she may be seen; being in the Pit or Box, she minds not how little she observeth in it, as how much to be observed at it. If the novelty or goodness of the Play in∣vite them not, then what Lady Fashion-munger? or what Lord Beauty-hunter?

Shun all affectation in your behaviour; for Virtue admits of no such thing in her gesture or habit, but that which is proper, and not enfor∣ced; native or decent, and not what is apishly introduced. Therefore since nothing better befits you than what is your own, make known by your dress, how much you hate formality. To this end play not the Hypocrite with your Creator, in pretending to go to Church to serve him, whereas it is to serve your selves in the imitation of some new fashion. That which becometh another well, may ill become you: You deserve in your preposterous imitation, suitable correction with the Ass in the Fable, who seeing the Spaniel fawningly to leap on his Master, thought that the like posture would alike become and oblige him; which he adventu∣ring to put in practice, alarm'd the whole Family, and was soundly beaten for his unadvised folly. Affectation cannot be conceal'd, and the indecency of your deportment will quickly be discovered

in publick Societies; wherefore behave your self so discreetly abroad, that you may confer no less a benefit on such as see your behaviour, than you profit such as shall observe your carriage at home. Express in publick such a well-becoming Garb, that every action may deserve the applause and imitation of all that are in your company. Let your conceits be nimble and ready, and not temper'd or mixt with leightness, let your jests be innocent and seasonable, without the least caprici∣ousness; let your discourse be free without nice∣ness; your whole carriage delightful, and agree∣able, and flowing with a seeming carelesness. Thus much in general, let me now come to parti∣culars.

Of the Gait or Gesture.

IT is an easie matter to gather the disposition of our heart, by the dimension of our Gait. A leight carriage most commonly discovers a loose inclination; as jetting and strutting, shew haughti∣ness, and self-conceit. Were your bodies transpa∣rent, you could not more perspicuously display your levity than by wanton Gesticulations.

Decency, when she seeth Women, whose modesty should be the Ornament of their beauty, demean themselves in the streets, or elswhere, more like an Actoress, than Virtues Imitatress; she endea∣vours to reclaim them, by bidding them look back to preceding times, and there they shall find Wo∣men (though Pagans) highly censured, for that their outward carriage only made them suspected. A Vail (no Vizard-mask) covered their face,

modesty measured each step, and so circumspect were they in general of their carriage, lest they should become a scandal or blemish to their Sex.

Their repair to their (prophane) Temples was decent, without any loose or leight gesture; and having entred them, constant and setled was their behaviour. Quick was their pace in the dispatch of oeconomick or houshold affairs, but slow in their Epicurean visits, or extravagant Gossipings. How much more should you in these purer Chri∣stian times, affect that most which most adorns and beautifieth? Eye your feet those bases of frailty, how they who so proudly exalt them∣selves on the surface of the Earth, are but Earth; and are the daily Porters which carry their earthly frame nearer its Earth.

With what apish gestures some walk, to disco∣ver their leightness; others like Colosso's, discover∣ing their ambition and haughtiness? How punctu∣ally these, as if they were Puppets, who are be∣holding for their motion to some secret Artifice? These unstaid dimensions, argue unsetled dispo∣sitions. Such as these, discretion cannot prize, nor sound judgment praise. Vulgar opinion, whose applause seldom receives life from desert, may admire what is new; but discretion only that which is neat. Having thus spoken what is requisite in Gesture, I shall next treat how the Eye ought to be governed.

Of the Government of the Eye.

AS Prudence is the eye of the Soul, so Dis∣cretion is the apple of that Eye; but as for the natural Eyes, they are the Casements of the Soul, the Windows of Reason: As they are the inlets of Understanding, so they are the outlets or discoverers of many inward corruptions. A wanton Eye is the truest evidence of a wandring and distracted mind. As by them you ought not to betray to others view, your imperfections within; so be not betray'd by their means, by vain objects without: This made the Princely Prophet pray so earnestly, Lord turn away my eyes from vanity. And hence appears our misery, that those eyes which should be the CIsterns of sorrow, Limbecks of contrition, should become the lodges of lust, and portals of our perdition. That those which were given us for our Assistants, should become our Assassinates.

An unclean Eye, is the messenger of an unclean Heart; wherefore confine the one, and it will be a means to rectifie the other. There are many Ob∣jects a wandring Eye finds out, whereon to vent the disposition of her corrupt heart.

The ambitious Eye makes Honour her object, wherewith she torments her self, both in aspiring to what she cannot enjoy; as likewise, in seeing another enjoy that whereto her self did aspire. The covetous makes Wealth her object; which she obtains with toil, enjoys with fear, foregoes with grief; for being got, they load her; lov'd, they soil her; lost, they gall her. The envious

makes her Neighbours flourishing condition her object; she cannot but look on it; looking, pine and repine at it; and by repining, with envy, murders her quiet and contentment. The loose or lascivious makes Beauty her object; and with a lecring look, or wanton glance, while she throw∣eth out her lure to catch others, she becomes catcht her self.

Gentlewomen, I am not insensible, that you fre∣quent places of eminency for resort, which cannot but offer to your view variety of pleasing Ob∣jects. Nay, there where nothing but chast thoughts, staid looks, and modest desires, should harbour, are too commonly loose thoughts, leight looks, and licentious desires in especial honour. The means to prevent this malady, which like a sprea∣ding Canker, disperseth it self in all Societies, is to abate your esteem for any earthly Object. Do you admire the comeliness of any Creature? re∣move your Eye from thence, and bestow it on the contemplation of the superexcellency of your Creator.

Put a check to the stragling disposition of your eyes, lest Dinah-like, by straying abroad, you are in danger of ravishing. Now to preserve pu∣rity of heart, you must observe a vigilancy over every sense; where, if the Eye which is the light of the body be not well disposed, the rest of the Senses cannot chuse but be much darkned. Be assur'd, there is no one sense that more distempers the harmony of the mind, nor prospect of the Soul, than this window of the body. It may be said to open ever to the Raven, but seldom to the Dove. Roving affections, it easily conveys to the

heart; but Dove-like innocence, it rarely retains in the breast. The very frame of your eyes may sufficiently inform you how to govern and guide them. For it is observed by the most curious Oculists, that whereas all irrational Creatures have but four Muscles to turn their Eyes round about; Man alone hath a fifth to draw his Eyes up to Heaven. Do not then depress your Eyes, as if Earth were the Center of their happiness, but on Heaven the Haven of their bliss after Earth. To conclude, so order and dispose your looks, that cen∣sure may not tax them with leightness, nor an amorous glance impeach you of wantonness. Send not forth a tempting Eye to take another; nor entertain a tempting look, darting from an∣other. Take not, nor be taken. To become a prey to others, will enslave you, to make a prey of others will transport you. Look then upward, where the more you look, you shall like; the longer you live, you shall love. From the manage∣nagement of the Eyes let us next proceed to Speech.

Of Speech and Complement.

THE Eye entertains it self not with more Ob∣jects than the Invention furnisheth the Tongue with Subjects; and as without Speech, no Society can subsist; so by it we express what we are; as Vessels discover themselves best by the sound. Let Discretion make Opportunity her An∣vil, whereon to fashion a seasonable Discourse; otherwise, though you speak much, you discourse little.

It is true (Ladies) your tongues are held your defensive armour, but you never detract more from your honour than when you give too much liberty to that slippery glib member. That Ivory guard or garrison, which impales your tongue, doth caution and instruct you, to put a restraint on your Speech. In much talk you must of ne∣cessity commit much error, at least, it leaves some tincture of vain glory, which proclaims the proud heart from whence it proceeded, or some taste of scurrility, which displays the wanton heart from whence it streamed.

A well disposed mind will not deliver any thing, till it hath rightly conceived; but its ex∣pressions are always prepared by a well-season'd deliberation. Think not I would have you alto∣gether silent (Ladies) in company, for that is a misbecoming error on the other side; but I would have you when you do speak, to do it know∣ingly and opportunely.

A saying of a Philosopher will not be unworthy of your commemoration, who seeing a silent guest at a publick Feast, used these words, If thou beest wise, thou art a fool; if a fool thou art wise in hold∣ing thy peace. For as propriety of Speech affords no less profit than delight to the Hearer, so it argues discretion in the Speaker.

By the way, let me advise you never to tye your self so strictly to elegancy, or ornament; as by outward trimming, the internal worth of right understanding should be altogether forgotten, and so your expressions savour of some absurd im∣pertinency. This were to prefer the rind before the pith, and the sound of words before solid reason.

That excellent precept of Ecclesiasticus, though it was spoken in general, yet I know not to whom it is more particularly useful than to young Wo∣men. Thou that art young, speak, if need be, and yet scarcely when thou art twice asked. Compre∣hend much in few words; in many, be as one that is ignorant; be as one that understandetb, and yet hold thy tongue.

Volubility of tongue in these, argues either rude∣ness of breeding, or boldness of expression. Gen∣tlewomen, it will best become ye, whose gener∣ous education hath estranged ye from the first, and whose modest disposition hath weaned ye from the last, in publick Society to observe, rather than discourse, especially among elderly Matrons to whom ye owe a civil reverence, and therefore ought to tip your tongue with silence.

Silence in a Woman is a moving-rhetorick, winning most, when in words it woeth least. If opportunity give your Sex argument of discourse, let it neither taste of affectation, for that were servile; nor touch upon any wanton relation, for that were uncivil; nor any thing above the Sphere of your proper concern, for that were unequal. This will make your Discourse gene∣rally acceptable, and free you from prejudicate censure.

Choice and general Rules for a Gentlewomans observation in Conversation with Company.

BEfore I shall direct you in a method for civil converse in Society, it will not be improper to give you an account of Civility, and in what

it consists; next, the definition, circumstances, and several kinds thereof; lastly, the difference of things decent, and undecent according to cu∣stom.

Civility, or gentle plausibility, of which I in∣tend to give you information; is in my slender judgment nothing else but the modesty and hand∣some decorum, to be observed by every one ac∣cording to his or her condition; attended with a bonne grace, and a neat becoming air. It lyeth not in my power to lay you down rules and pre∣cepts for the procuring this charming air, and winning agreeableness. Nature hath reserved this to her self, and will not bestow this inexpressible boon, but to her choicest favourites, and there∣fore I do not see how Art with her utmost skill can imitate it to any purpose.

I confess this very much engageth the Eye, and sometimes doth very subtilly steal into the affections; but we rest too much on a trifle, if we do not endeavour to make our selves more grate∣ful to the eye of Reason. It is not barely the out∣ward ornamental dress, or becoming-address which is the true principle and form of a com∣pleat Gentlewoman; there is something more re∣quired, more substantial and solid, which must discover the disposition of her Soul, rather than the gesticulations of her Body. Were it not for this, alas what would become of a great many to whom Nature hath prov'd an unkind Step∣mother, denying them not only convenient use of members, but hath thrown on them deformity of parts; these Corporal incommodities would make them pass for Monsters, did not the ex∣cellency

of their souls compensate those irrepa∣rable defects; their minds being well cultivated and polite, their actions may be as pleasing as those of the handsomest; that Lady that is so unfortunate in the one, and so happy in the other, may say with the Poet:

Si mihi difficilis formam Natura negavit, Ingenio formae damna rependo meae.

In English thus:

If Nature hath deni'd me what is fit, The want of Beauty I repay with Wit.

But whether you are afflicted with any natu∣ral or accidental deformity, or not, you can ne∣ver be truly accomplisht till you apply your self to the Rule of Civility, which is nothing but a certain Modesty or Pudor required in all your actions; this is the Virtue I shall labour to de∣scribe, which description I hope will be suffi∣cient to direct you towards the acquisition of that agreeable deportment which hath the power to conciliate and procure the applause and affe∣ction of all sorts of people.

The definition of Civility may be thus un∣derstood; it is a science for the right under∣standing our selves, and true instructing how to dispose all our words and actions in their pro∣per and due places.

There are four circumstances which attend Ci∣vility; without which, according to its Rules, nothing can be done exactly.

First, Ladies, you must consult your years, and so accordingly behave your self to your age and condition.

Next, Preserve all due respect to the quality of the Person you converse withall.

Thirdly, Consider well the time. And, lastly, the place where you are.

These circumstances relating to the knowledg of our selves, and all persons in all conditions, having respect to time and place, are of such great consequence, and necessary import, that if you are deficient in any of these, all your acti∣ons (how well soever intended) are the rags of imperfection and deformity. I shall find it some∣what difficult to prescribe the exact rules of Ci∣vility, so as to render them compliable with all times, places, and persons, by reason of variety of Customs: You may fall accidentally into the society of some exotick and forreign person of quality; and what may seem civil and decent in you, may seem undecent and ridiculous to ano∣ther Nation. Nay, should you observe and pra∣ctise in your behaviour what hath been applau∣ded for useful and profitable, and commended to posterity for a Gentlewomans laudible imita∣tion, may decline or grow altogether contemp∣tible in our critical and curious Age. In short, nothing is so intrinsically decorous, but the ex∣perience or capricio of a phantastical Lady will alter or explode. By reason of this variety, I think it altogether requisite to treat of it as it stands at this time in reputation among such who call themselves Christians, and accordingly reduce these Notions into practise.

This Modesty or Civility we speak of, take it according to its truest acceptation, is little else but Humility; which being well practis'd by Persons of Quality, is sufficient to stamp an ever∣lasting impress on them of Virtue and Civility. And this Humility consists not only in a mode∣rate and submiss opinion of our selves, but in pre∣ferring the satisfaction and commodity of other persons before our own; and that so ingeniously, first, by not provoking or disobliging any one; to be of this disposition, is to be not only esteemed modest, but good-natur'd; the benefit that will redound to you hereby, may incite and encou∣rage you to the practise of this shining-Virtue: for as there is nothing will render any one more insupportable, and lessen estimation among all, than Insolence and Vanity; so nothing recom∣mends more strongly to the good opinion and af∣fection of all, than affability and submission.

This virtue of Humility, above all others, hath this great priviledg in extraordinary emi∣nence. I have known some, who having been endued with a more than an ordinary measure hereof, have been so far from being accused for their formal indecencies, and other errors, which otherwise might have been objected to their disparagement, that every one endeavoured to excuse them. I have known, on the other side, a proud and an imperious carriage (though the person was adorned with much breeding, and beautified with all the usual ornaments of Art, yet) was beloved by few, because displeasing to most, and hardly welcome to any. Modesty therefore is the effect of Humility, as Civility

and the gratefulness of our actions is the effect of Modesty. To conclude this Chapter, I shall add the difference or discrimination between things civil and uncivil, convenient and incon∣venient, decent and undecent.

For the better understanding hereof, a good natural judgment is required in a Gentlewoman for the perception and discerning the various qualities of things; for want of this, she may many times fall into a mistake, and commit gross absurdities.

In the next place, it is necessary that you take an exact observation of what is own'd and establisht for civil or uncivil, in the place where∣in you are.

Lastly, You must have a special regard, not to confound Familiarity with Civility. To per∣sons of Quality in a higher rank than your own, be very attentive to what they say, lest you put them to the trouble of speaking things twice. Interrupt them not whilst they are speaking, but patiently expect till they have done. Have a special care how you contradict them; but if finding them in an error, and ne∣cessity obligeth you to inform them of the truth, first beg your excuse; but if they per∣sist therein, contend not, but refer your fur∣ther discourse till another opportunity.

When it comes to your turn to speak to in∣telligent Ladies, entertain them not with things you understand but imperfectly. If you find the company more facetious and witty than your self, leave the discourse to time, and be silent, contenting your self to be an attentive

hearer: if you will run the hazzard, be smart and pithy, comprehending much in few words; and be not the vain imitatrix of those who af∣fect to have the whole talk; and when their mouths are once open, can never shut them a∣gain. If you are obliged to complement any great person, do it as briefly as possible; and return your answers rather in Courtships, than in any prolix discourse. Avoid especially that rudeness that is too frequently practised among some, who think they are never heard, unless they come up so close to the face, as to run a∣gainst your nose; in that case you are to pray heartily their breath be sweet, or you faint ir∣recoverably.

Let not your visits be too long; and when you think it convenient to retreat, and that La∣dy you visited will do you the honour to ac∣company you out of the Chamber, do not seem to oppose it in the least; that would imply she understood not what she went about; but you are only to testifie by some little formality how undeserving you are of that great honour.

When you enter into a room by way of visit, avoid the indiseretion and vanity of a bold en∣trance without ceremony, but do it quietly and civilly; and when you come near the person you would salute, make your complement, and render your devoir modestly, and with some gra∣vity, shunning all bauling noise or obstrepe∣rousness.

The Ladies which do you the civility of ri∣sing when you come in, do not displace, by as∣suming any of their Chairs; but make choice

of another seat; observing still, not to sit down till they are most in their places: it being a great indecorum to seat your self in that case, whilst any person which gave you that respect continues in a standing-posture.

It is an intollerable incivility to enquire what they were talking about; or if you see any two or more discoursing or dialoguing together, to interrupt them by hastily asking what they said last.

If you are in a mixt company, and you are qualified with those Languages (the knowledg whereof I have advised you to prosecute), speak as little as you can: but be sure you do not hold a discourse in that language the rest do not understand.

It is not civil to whisper in company, and much less to laugh when you have done. The generality of Gentlewomen are suspicious, and somewhat conscious, and are apt to surmize what was never intended, and to apply to them∣selves what was meant of another; by which means they have conceived so great a displea∣sure, as never to be irradicated or removed.

I need not put you in mind of those docu∣ments you learned every day when you were children; that is, when ever you answer nega∣tively or affirmatively, to give always the titles of Sir, Madam, or my Lord. It is very unhand∣some, when you contradict a person of quality, to answer him with, It is not so; if you are ne∣cessitated thereunto, do it by circumlocution, as, I beg your Honour's pardon: Madam, I beseech your Ladiship to excuse my presumption if I say

you mistake, &c. If any discourse you complemen∣tally, and run out into some extravagant ex∣pressions in commendation of your person, it is a breach of civility if you should say, Pray for∣bear your jeers, my back is broad enough to bear your flouts; but say, You strangely sur∣prize me, Sir; or, I am confident, Sir, what you now express, is rather to shew your wit and ingenuity, than to declare any thing worth a taking notice of in me. If your love and re∣spect to a Lady's person, obligeth you to re∣prove a fault in her, do not say, Madam, you acted the part of a mad woman, in doing such a thing; but, had such a thing been left undone, you had neither disobliged your self or friends.

Take special care of speaking imperiously to your Superiors, but rather do it in some indefi∣nite manner; as instead of saying, Come, you must, do, go, &c. say, Come, Madam, if you think it con∣venient, or if it stand with your Ladiships plea∣sure, we will go to such a place, or do such a thing; in my opinion such a thing is requisite to be done, if it suits, Madam, with your approbation.

As it is a great argument of indiscretion in a Gentlewoman that would be thought prudent and wise, to talk much in praise of her Rela∣tions in the presence of Persons of Honour; so it is very unhandsome to seem affected or over-much pleased in hearing others speaking largely in their commendations.

There is a certain ambitious vanity that pos∣sesseth the minds of some of the younger sort, who being nobly extracted, think they add to the honour of their Parents, when having oc∣casion

to speak of them in honourable company, they never mention them without their titles of Honour (though we ought always to speak of them with respect), as, My Lord my Father, My Lady my Mother; in my opinion every jot as ridiculous, as for young Gentlewomen of twelve years old to call them Dad and Mam. Avoid, as a thing very improper, to send commendations or messages to any person by your Superior; you may make choice of your equal for that purpose, but chuse rather your inferior.

In relating a story, do not trouble your Audi∣tors with the vain repetion of Do you understand me, mark ye, or obsrve me; and do not accustom your self to the empty cautologies of said be, and said she.

Be backward in discourse of minding any one of any thing which may renew their grief, or perplex and trouble their spirit.

Carelesly to nod, gape, or go away whilst one is speaking, is both an act of incivility and stupidity; to laugh, or express any Tom-boy trick, is as bad or worse; be careful therefore you do not pat or toy with her that sits near you, nor do not that childish or foolish thing which may provoke laughter; left the company, being indisposed for such idle diversious, take distaste at you, and look upon you as the subject of their scorn.

It is very ungentile and indiscreet, to peep o∣ver any Ladies shoulder when she is either writing or reading; or to cast your eye seriously on any one's papers lying in your way.

Let it be your principal care, of not intruding upon persons in private discourse, which will be

discovered either by their retirement, their whis∣pering, or by changing their discourse upon your approach: having observed either of these signs, make it your business to withdraw, lest you in∣cur the censure of indiscretion.

If the person you visit be sick, and in bed, let not your stay be long: for sick perfons are un∣quiet; and being tied up to Physick, and con∣troul'd by its operations, you may offend them by their being offensive to you: you must re∣member likewise to speak low; and urge him not to answer as little as you can.

In company it is ill-becoming to break out into loud and violent laughter, upon any occasion whatever; but worse by far, to laugh always without occasion.

Rules to be observed in walking with Persons of Honour; and how you ought to behave your self in congratulating and condoling them.

If you walk in a Gallery, Chamber, or Garden, be sure to keep the left hand; and without affe∣ctation or trouble to the Lady, recover that side every turn. If you make up the third in your walk, the middle is the most honourable place, and belongs to the best in the company; the right hand is next, and the left in the lowest estimation. If the Lady with whom you walk, hath a desire to fit down, to the intent she may repofe her self; if you pretend any difference between persons, it would be very ridiculous and slighting to leave her to her rest, whilst you continued walking on.

If you understand a person for whom you have any deference or respect, meets with a sub∣ject or occasion of rejoycing or sorrowing; Ci∣vility requires you so to conform your self, that this Lady may be fully perswaded of your affection, and how much you are concerned in all her affairs; and as your countenances, so ought your habit testifie the sentiment of your heart, as well as words and actions. How pre∣posterous would it appear to the meanest ca∣pacity, for any out of a ridiculous non-con∣formity, who hearing of some joyful and suc∣cesful accident which hath befaln some Noble Family of his or her acquaintance, repair thither with all the symptoms of sorrow and melan∣choly in the countenance; and on the contrary, if it be in mourning, or under any eminent af∣fliction, to express all the signs of joy and sa∣tisfaction?

And now since I have toucht on Clothes; I think this a fit place to give you an account of what kind of habit is most necessary for a ci∣vil, sober, and modest conversation.

Of Habit, and the neatness and property thereof. Of Fashions, and their ridiculous apish imitation.

THE neatness and property of your Clothes, may be said to shew a great part of your bree∣ding. Property, I call a certain suitableness and convenience, betwixt the Clothes and the Person; as Civility is the framing and adapting our acti∣ons to the satisfaction of other people. And in∣deed

the suitableness and comeliness of your habit, makes the greatest discovery of your virtue and discretion; for it must consequently follow, that a ridiculous Garb is the most certain indicium of a foolish person.

Now if you desire to be exact, you ought to proportion your Clothes to your shape, condition, and age; and not to run into excesses, stimulated thereunto by too much exactness, or an over∣valu'd conceit. And indeed it is a great fault in our Sex, being very much inclin'd to pride it in sin with what our merciful Creator bestow'd upon us to cover our shame. The fruit of a Tree made Woman first to sin, and the leaves thereof made her first covering.

How careful ought you to be in your Habit, since by it your modesty is best expressed, your dispositions best discovered? As none can probably imagin such to have modest minds, who have immodest eyes; so a Maid cannot be accounted modest whose attire openly proclaims arguments to the contrary. It matters not whether the qua∣lity of your Habits be Silken or Woollen, so they be civil and not wanton.

Pardon me, I am not of that Cynical and mo∣rose temper of some, who affirm all gorgeous appa∣rel is the attire of sin; but if it be a sin, I am per∣swaded the quality of the person extenuates the quality thereof: For I read, that noble and emi∣nent persons were in all times admitted to wear them, and to be distinguished by them; neither indeed is the sumptuousness of the Habit so re∣prehensive, as the phantastickness in respect of form and fashion, which of late hath been so much

affected, that all fashion is in a manner exiled.

I shall not trouble my self with what the glit∣tering Bona-Robas of our times think, but I am confident it is Civility which adds most grace, Decency which expresseth best state, and Comeli∣ness in attire, which procures most love. These misconceived ornaments are meer deformities to virtuous minds. Foreign fashions are no baits to catch them; nor phantastick, rather phanatick dressings, to delude them. Decency is their choi∣cest livery, which sets them forth above others gaudy pageantry.

Those whose erected thoughts sphere them in an higher Orb than this Circle of frailty; those whose spotless affections have devoted their best services to goodness, and made modesty the ex∣act mold of all their actions, will not easily be in∣duced to stoop to such worthless brain-sick lures.

Now such of you whose generous descent, as it claims precedence of others, so should your vertu∣ous demeanor in these four things which I have already spoken of, viz. Gesture, Look, Speech, and Habit, improve your esteem above others. In Gesture, by appearing humbly where ever you are; in Look, by disposing it demurely; in Speech, by delivering it moderately; in Habit, by attiring your self modestly.

Frown not on me, Ladies, that I seem to be thus severe in reproving the excess of Apparel; yet I dot not deny, there is a kind of priviledg in youth for wearing fashionable Clothes, Jewels and Diamonds, which Nature (who doth nothing in vain) hath provided; and whatsoever some

maliciously may whisper to the contrary; the use of Apparel is to dignifie the Wearer, and add more beauty to the Creature, provided the Appa∣rel be not above the dignity of her that weareth it, nor doth exceed the Arithmetick of her Re∣venues.

But whilst I seem to give you (young Gentle-women) some allowance of liberty in your Clo∣thing; for indeed it is impossible there should be youth without some vanity; yet I know not how to excuse the vain custom now so much in fashion, to deform the face with black Patches, under a pretence to make it appear more beauti∣ful. It is a riddle to me, that a blemish should ap∣pear a grace, a deformity be esteemed a beauty: I am confident were any of them born with those half Moons, Stars, Coach and Horses, and such like trumpery, by which a Lady becomes a stran∣ger to her self, as well as others, she would give more money to be freed from them, than a seven years costly expence, in following the fashion, would amount to.

It must not be denyed but that the indulgence of Nature hath left a greater liberty to Women, than unto Men, in point of curiosity in Apparel. A priviledg which men ought not to envy them, because whatever imbellishment she bestows on her own beauty, is to be supposed an effect of that great love she would shew to man, by en∣deavouring and studying how to shew her self most complaisant, grateful, and acceptable to man. And yet Nature hath limited this privi∣ledg of Women with strict Laws. The dictate of this natural Law is, That no Woman use any

habit or form of attire but that which contri∣buteth to her truest beauty. For since the fall of their first Parent hath subjected them to the necessity of apparel, they must ever remember to wear it as an ornament of decency, and not of vanity. But if we shall examine the present fashions by the standard of this rule, we shall find, to the amazement of sober thoughts, a new-born Law of Custom to have defaced the reverend old Law of Nature.

I cannot imagine whence our Ladies bor∣rowed that monstrous and prodigious custom of patching their faces; if they did borrow it from the French, they did ill to imitate such, who it may be made use of the fashion out of pure necessity, and not novelty; having French-pimples, they needed a French-plaister. Meer need taught us at first to build houses, and wear Clothes, which afterwards were used for ornament: Who then can tax their witty-pride (although justly we may the imitation of the En∣glish Gentry therein) which could so cunningly turn botches into beauty, and make ugliness handsome? I know not but that the fashion of wearing Farthingals of old, were politickly in∣vented to hide the shame of great bellies unlaw∣fully puft up; and of late the large-topt stock∣ings with supporters to bear them up, were a good excuse for some hot gallants, in that they stradled so much when they walkt the streets; whereas, poor Gentlemen, they could do no otherwise.

I have read, that the Indians did accustom themselves to print the volume of their bodies

all over with Apes, Monkies, and other Beasts. I know not whether our Ladies have endeavou∣red to epitomize their Works, and abridg them into the narrow compass of the Title-page of their own faces. But sure I am, that they are much beholding to the ingenious Artist, whose skilful hand much exceeded his who writ the Ten Commandments and Pater-noster (to be legibly read) within the compass of a penny. Such a one is able to vie with Wonder it self, since he can pass a Camel through the eye of a Spanish Needle without a Miracle; and contract a Coach and Horses into the narrow dimension of four Gnats.

By the impertinent pains of this curious Face∣spoiling-mender, the Exchanges (for now we have three great Arsenals of choice Vanities) are fur∣nished with a daily supply and variety of Beauty∣spots (with many other things, whose names are only known to the Inventer and Buyer); and these Patches are cut out into little Moons, Suns, Stars, Castles, Birds, Beasts, and Fishes of all sorts; so that their Faces may be properly termed a Land∣skip of living Creatures. The vanity and pride of these Gentlewomen hath in a manner abstra∣cted Noah's Ark, and exprest a Compendium of the Creation in their Front and Cheeks. Add to this the gallantry of their garb, with all the ornamental appurtenances which rackt Inventi∣on can discover, and then you will say, there wanted nothing except it be that which a Ro∣man Writer said was wanting to the accomplish∣ments of Poppaea Sabina (Mistris to bloody Nero), That she was defective in nothing but a vertuous mind.

Mediocrity in most things is the best rule for your observation: As in mode and fashion you are to avoid profusion, so you are to shun sin∣gularity: The one, as well as the other, will render you ridiculous. I would not advise you to be obstinate, and altogether oppose the tor∣rent of the fashion then in being: for exam∣ple, should you now wear a Farthingal, or nar∣row brim'd Hat with a long crown, and a strut∣ting Ruff (it is not long since such things were in fashion), a Jack-pudding could not attract more Boys after him, than would follow you. Or should you always keep in one fashion, you would be laught at for your singularity, almost as much as others for their profuseness.

To avoid this incommodious extravagancy, incline somewhat to the Mode of the Court (which is the source and foundation of fa∣shions); but let the example of the most so∣ber, moderate, and modest, be the pattern for your imitation.

Those who are too remote in the Countrey, or hindred by any other impediment to resort to Court, let them acquaint themselves (if they can) with some prudent person who is fre∣quently there, and by her pattern and directi∣on order your habit with reference, as near as may be, to your quality, age, and estate. Your own wit and ingenuity may so contrive your clothes, as to retrench a great part of the luxu∣ry of a fashion, and reduce it to suit with your convenience, modesty, and Christian deportment.

I have already declared, your habits ought to be adapted to your conditions; it is easie to

judg of the truth of this Rule, if you consider how preposterous you would appear (being no∣bly born) drest in the habit of a Dairy-maid, or for a Scullion to be array'd in the dress of a La∣dies daughter; this would be looked on no other than a Masquerade, or a Christmass Mumming. As it is very unfit to suit your selves unsuitable to your condition, so 'tis likewise as to your age. For an old woman to habit her self as youthfully as a Gentlewoman of fifteen, is as improper as to sing a wanton song at a Funeral. For a young Woman to clothe her self in the habit of a grave and aged Matron is as preposterous as to weep and mourn at a merry Gossiping.

Proportion therefore your Clothes to your bo∣dies, and let them be proper for your persons. I could not forbear to laugh heartily, when here∣tofore I saw a little man lost in a great Band; nor can I now abstain from laughter, when I see a man of small stature with a monstrous broad brim'd Hat; I have often thought the Hat hath walkt alone, and that the narrow Breeches and short Coat shrunk, for fear of the Hats greatness, into an exact fitness for an overgrown Monky or Baboon.

Agreeableness therefore ought to be exact, and adequate both to age, person and condition, avoi∣ding extremities on both sides, being neither too much out, nor in the fashions.

Now lest I have been too rigid concerning Apparel, and so have justly incur'd the displea∣sure of some Ladies I am ever bound to respect for those singular favours they have from time to time confer'd on their poor Servant; I shall endea∣vour

to make them amends for it, without wrong∣ing my Conscience, in this ensuing Chapter.

Of New Fashions.

MAN at first was left at liberty to be his own Taylor, and had the whole World to fur∣nish him with all sorts of Materials, both for Stuff and trimming, and so made his Clothes as he thought fit and convenient.

Hence it is apparent that he was the first fashi∣on-inventer; some of his posterity imitated him, and others them, and we others; since then fashions seem to be left at liberty, I think no wise man should reprehend them, unless inconvenient and ridiculous.

If Womens palats are not confinable to one sort of meat, why should their fancies to one particu∣lar mode? Nature is the Mistress of Variety; shall we then be so ingrateful to her various kindnesses, as to rest in the the enjoyment of one individual? She made all things for strength, use and ornament; and shall we be so slothful and negligent, as not to contemplate their worth, and applaud them in our due use?

It is true, we never heard any thing of Apparel till sin sent man in an errant to seek for it; at first it was chosen for a covering for our first Parents shame; but their progeny beside that, have since found a decency therein. And certainly good Clothes are not displeasing to Heaven; had they been so, God would never have commanded the Garments of his High-Priests to be glorious and beautiful; not only to be rich in the outward Ma∣terials,

but richly wrought with the best eye-plea∣sing colours, and refulgent with precious Stones and Jewels.

The Peacocks starry train we cannot look on, but we must incline to admiration; and that the glory thereof may not be useless, Nature hath given that bird an excellent art to spread it to the best advantage.

I may be bold to say, Ladies, you sin more in the sordidness of your Apparel, than in its splen∣dor; and you will not lose in your reputations, by being cloth'd a little above your rank, rather than altogether beneath it. A Jeweller when he would enhanse the price of his Commodity, sets his pre∣cious Stones to the best advantage; and the richer they are, the greater is his endeavour and care to grace them in the luster. Its true, a Diamond will sparkle in the dark, and glitter, though unpolisht or ill set; yet we think the excellency of the cut, or water, can never cast abroad its rays too much.

Let me ask the gravest and most prudent Ma∣tron living, whether it be not only convenient, but necessary, that as occasion shall require, young Gentlewomen should be finer than ordinary, as upon their addresses and visitings of persons of quality, on days of publick feasting and joy, and on solemn and sacred meetings. Socrates, though a serious and sour Philosopher, being askt the question, Why one day he was so unusual fine and brave? answered, That he might appear handsome to the handsome. We ought in our Clothes to con∣form our selves to those with whom we do con∣verse.

Besides, we commonly guess at the fatness and

goodness of the soil, by the grass which we see upon the ground. Since most then judg by out∣ward apparencies, it is requisite to provide for a good estimation, even from externals.

I have heard of some profuse Gallants, who having spent all their money, yet prudently and for credit, have kept good Clothes to their back, otherwise they might have hoop'd for a Dinner, and look'd sor a Lodging.

If there were not a due respect to be had, ac∣cording to rank and quality, what use would there be of Scarlet, Velvet, Cloth of Tissue, Silk, Satten, Jewels, and precious Stones of all sorts? They would be accounted superfluous, and rather bur∣dens than benefits to the World.

This is a maxim undeniable, That Nature doth nothing in vain. Certainly then she had never pro∣duced such multiplicity and quantity of excellent and inestimable things, but for our use and orna∣ment: Yet withal remember the saying of De∣monax, who seeing a Gallant brave it in the fa∣shion, and insult with his Feather, whispered these words in his ear, The Silk and fine Clothes you boast of, were spun by a worm, and worn by a Beast, before they came on your back, and yet the Worm continues still a Worm, and a Beast a Beast; and the Bird in whose tayl was the Feather you wear, is a Fowl still. There are some persons whose Gallantry of Ap∣parel can never hide the fool from them, whilst others do grace and are graced by every thing they wear. Yet still we must conclude, that come∣ly Apparel is to be prefer'd before what is costly or conceited.

Some choice Observations for a Gentlewomans Behaviour at Table.

Gentlewomen, the first thing you are to observe, is to keep your Body strait in the Chair, and do not Iean your Elbows on the Table. Discover not by any ravenous gesture your angry appetite; nor fix your eyes too greedily on the meat be∣fore you, as if you would devour more that way than your throat can swallow, or your stomack digest.

If you are invited abroad, presume not on the principal place at the Table, and seem to be per∣swaded with some difficulty to be seated, where your Inviter hath chosen in his opinion the most convenient place for you. Being a Guest, let not your hand be first in the Dish; and though the Mistress of the Feast may out of a Complement desire you to carve, yet beg her excuse, though you are better able to do it than her self.

In carving at your own Table, distribute the best pieces first, and it will appear very comely and decent to use a Fork; if so touch no piece of meat without it.

I have been invited to Dinner, where I have seen the good Gentlewoman of the House sweat more in cutting up of a Fowl, than the Cook∣maid in rosting it; and when she had soundly be∣liquor'd her joints, hath suckt her knuckles, and to work with them again in the Dish; at the fight whereof my belly hath been three quarters full, before I had swallowed one bit. Wherefore avoid clapping your fingers in your mouth and

lick them, although you have burnt them with carving. Take these more especial Rules, accor∣ding to the newest and best mode for Car∣ving.

If Chicken-broth be the first dish, and you would help your principal Guest with a part of the Chicken, the best piece is the breast; the wings and legs are the next; and of them, the general opinion of most is, That in all boil'd Fowl the legs are look'd on as chief.

As to all roasted Fowl, those which are curi∣ous in the indulging their pallats, do generally agree, that flying wild-fowl are much tenderer than tame-fowl, and quicker of concoction; such as scratch the earth, and seldom use the wing, the legs are to be preferr'd before any other part; the wings and breasts of wild-fowl are best.

The ordinary way of cutting-up a roast-fowl, is by dividing the four principal members, be∣ginning first with the legs; and be not tedi∣ous in hitting the joints, which you may avoid by well considering with your eye where they lye, before you exercise your knife.

The best piece to carve to the best in the company, of the larger sort of Fowl, as Capons, Turkies, Geese, Duck, and Mallard, Pheasant, Dottril, Cock of the Wood, &c. is the piece on the breast, observing always to cut it long-ways towards the rump. But do not cut your Oran∣ges long-ways, but cross.

Since in Butchers-meat there are few igno∣rant of the best pieces, it will be to little pur∣pose to give you an account of them in this

place; for my design is to treat of that which is not commonly known: however, without deviating from my intention, take these remarks which follow.

In boiled or roasted Beef, that which is inter∣lin'd or interlarded with fat, is most to be esteem∣ed; and the short ribs being most sweet and tender, is to be preferred before any other.

Cut a Loin of Veal in the middle, and pre∣sent the Nut or Kidney as the best part in the whole Joint. Thrust your knife into a Leg of Mutton a considerable depth, above the handle, to let out the gravy; and begin to cut on the inside, as if you intended to split it; in the joint on the other side, is a little bone fit to be pre∣sented, and in great estimation among the Cu∣rious.

I heard of a Gentleman coming from hunting, and falling into a friend's house, complained he was extreamly hungry; the Mistris thereof re∣plied, That she was very sorry she had nothing to accommodate him with but a cold Leg of Mutton. His appetite being very sharp, made him commend that Joint beyond any other; where∣upon it was brought: but finding that choice bone remaining still untoucht, refused to eat a bit: being demanded the reason, Madam, said he, the sharpness of my stomach shall never make me feed uncleanly; for I am confident they must be Bores and Clowns that first handled this Leg of Mutton, or else their breeding would have taught them not to have left untoucht the choi∣cest bit in the whole joint. I cannot but ap∣plaud the jest, but I must condemn the rudeness of the Gentleman.

A Shoulder of Mutton is to be cut semicir∣cularly, between the handle and the flap; the Pope's eye (as it is commonly called) is a choice bit both in Leg and Shoulder.

In a roasted Pig, the dainty most approve the ears and divided Jaws, the neck and middle∣piece, by reason of the crackling. In Hares, Le∣verets, and Rabbets, the most esteemed (called the Hunts-mans piece) is by the sides of the tail; and next to that, is the back, legs, and wings, improperly so termed.

Some who esteem themselves the Virtuosi for rarity of diet and choice provision, esteem (in Fish) the head, and what is near about it, to be the best: I must acknowledg it in a Cods-head, with the various appurtenances, drest Secundum artem, sparing no cost; such a dish in Old and New Fish street, hath made many a Gallant's poc∣ket bleed freely. As also, I approve it in a Sal∣mon or Sturgeon, the Jowles of both being the best of the Fish; likewise in Pike or Carp, where note, the tongue of this last-named is an excel∣lent morsel; but in other Fish you must excuse the weakness of my knowledg. In Fish that have but one long bone running down the back (as the Sole), the middle is to be carved without dispute; there is none so unacquainted with fare, to contradict it.

If Fish be in paste, it is proper enough to touch it with your knife; if otherwise, with your fork and spoon, laying it hansomely on a plate with sauce, and so present it. But should there be Olives on the board, use your spoon, and not your fork, lest you become the laughter of the whole Table.

All sorts of Tarts, Wet-Sweat-meats, and Cake, being cut first in the dish wherein they were served to the Table, are to be taken up at the point of your knives, laid dextrously on a plate, and so presented: and whatever you carve and present, let it be on a clean plate; but by no means on the point of your knife, or fork, nor with your spoon. If any one carves to you, refuse it not, though you dislike it.

Where you see variety at a Table, ask not to be helpt to any dainty; and if you are of∣fered the choice of several dishes, chuse not the best; you may answer, Madam, I am indifferent, your Ladiships choice shall be mine.

Be not nice nor curious at the Table, for that is undecent; and do not mump it, mince it, nor bridle the head, as if you either disliked the meat, or the company. If you have a sto∣mach, eat not voraciously; nor too sparingly, like an old-fashion Gentlewoman I have heard of, who because she would seem (being invited to a Feast) to be a slender eater, fed heartily at home (before she went) on a piece of pow∣der'd-beef and cabbage; by-chance a fleak there∣of fell on her Ruff, and not perceiving it, went so where she was invited; being obser∣ved to eat little or nothing, a Gentlewoman askt her why she did not eat; Indeed, Madam, said she, I did eat (before I came forth) a whole pestle of a Lark to my Breakfast, and that I think hath deprived me of my appetite. The witty Gentlewoman presently replied, I am ea∣sily induced to believe you fed on that Bird, for on your Ruff I see you have brought a

feather of him with you. Thus your nicety may be discovered by means you dream not of, and and thereby make your self the subject of pub∣lick laughter.

On the other side, do not baul out aloud for any thing you want; as, I would have some of that; I like not this; I hate Onions; Give me no Pepper: But whisper softly to one, that he or she may without noise supply your wants.

If you be carved with any thing (as I said before) which you do not like, conceal (as much as in you lieth) your repugnancies, and receive it however: And though your disgust many times is invincible, and it would be insuffera∣ble tyranny to require you should eat what your stomach nauseates; yet it will shew your civility to accept it, though you let it lye on your plate, pretending to eat, till you meet with a fit opportunity of changing your plate, with∣out any palpable discovery of your disgust.

If you are left to your own liberty, with the rest, to carve to your self, let not your hand be in the dish first, but give way, to others; and be sure to carve on that side of the dish only which is next you, not overcharging your plate, but laying thercon a little at a time. What you take, as near as you can let it be at once; it is not civil to be twice in one dish, and much worse to eat out of it piece by piece; and do not (for it savours of rudeness) reach your arms over other dishes to come at that you like better. Wipe your spoon every time you put it into the dish, otherwise

you may offend some squeamish stomacks. Eat not so fast, though very hungry, as by gorman∣dizing you are ready to choak your selves. Close your lips when you eat; talk not when you have meat in your mouth; and do not smack like a Pig, nor make any other noise which shall prove ungrateful to the company. If your pot∣tage be so hot your mouth cannot endure it, have patience till it be of a fit coolness; for it is very unseemly to blow it in your spoon, or otherwise.

Do not venture to eat Spoon-meat so hot, that the tears stand in your eyes, or that thereby you betray your intollerable greediness, by bewraying the room, besides your great dis∣composure for a while afterwards. Do not bite your bread, but cut or break what you are a∣bout to eat; and keep not your knife al∣ways in your hand, for that is as unseemly as a Gentlewoman who pretended to have as little a stomach as she had a mouth, and therefore would not swallow her Pease by spoon∣fuls, but took them one by one, and cut them in two before she would eat them.

Fill not your mouth so full, that your cheeks shall swell like a pair of Scotch-bag-pipes; nei∣ther cut your meat into too big pieces.

Gnaw no bones with your teeth, nor suck them to come at the marrow: Be cautious, and not over-forward in dipping or sopping in the dish; and have a care of letting fall any thing you are about to eat, between the plate and your mouth.

It is very uncivil to criticise or find fault

with any dish of meat or sauce during the re∣past, or more especially at another's Table; or to ask what such a Joint or such a Fowl cost; or to trouble your self and others with perpe∣tual discourses of Bills of Fare, that being a sure sign of a foolish Epicure.

It is very uncomely to drink so large a draught, that your breath is almost gone, and are forced to blow strongly to recover your self: nor let it go down too hastily, lest it force you to an extream cough, or bring it up again, which would be a great rudeness to nauseate the whole Table; and this throwing down your liquor as into a Funnel, would be an acti∣on fitter for a Jugler than a Gentlewoman. If you sit next a Person of Honour, it will behove you, not to receive your drink on that side; for those who are accurately bred, receive it gene∣rally on the other.

It is uncivil to rub your teeth in company, or to pick them at or after meals, with your knife, or otherwise; for it is a thing both in∣decent and distastful.

Thus much I have laid down for your ob∣servation in general; wherein I am defective as to particulars, let your own prudence, discre∣tion, and curious observation supply.

Rules for a Gentlewomans Behaviour at a Ball.

Ladies, it is presumed you know the grounds of Dancing, else your resort to a Ball amongst well accomplisht Gentlewomen, would not only be improper but very much hazzard your repute and good esteem among them; and as you can dance, so I would have you understand the rules and formalities of dancing, which are practised in that place.

If you are skilful in this faculty, be not difficult∣ly perswaded to make a demonstration of your art. A fault is found in many of whom if you re∣quest a Dance or Song, they will be deaf to all your importunities; but may be when you are out of humour, and have left them to their own liberty, will Dance so long till they have tired themselves and the Spectators; and Sing till they have nei∣ther voice, nor their Auditors ears.

I say, if you have skill, be not over-conceited thereof, lest it lead you into the error of engaging in some Dance you do not understand, or but imperfectly.

If you are perswaded to Dance, and though you alledg a great many Apologies to the con∣trary, yet when you find your self obliged there∣unto, by no means refuse. For it is much bet∣ter to expose your self to some little disorder in being complacent, than be suspected of pride.

Rules to be observed by a Gentlewoman in Vocal and Instrumental Musick.

Do not discover upon every slight occasion you can sing or play upon any Instrument of Mu∣sick; but if it be known to any particular friend in company, whom you have a special respect for, and he or she perswade you to sing, excuse your self as modestly as you may; but if your friends persist, satisfie their desires, and therein you will express no part of ill breeding; your prompt and ready compliance thereunto shall serve you against censure; whereas, a refracto∣ry resistance savours of one that makes a lively∣hood of the profession, and must expect to have but small doings if there be no better recom∣mendation than that distastful kind of moro∣sity.

Use not your self to hemming or hauking, a foolish custom of some, endeavouring to clear their throat thereby; nor be not too long in tuning your Instrument.

Having commenced your Harmony, do not stop in the middle thereof to beg attention, and consequently applause to this trill, or that ca∣dence, but continue without interruption what you have begun, and make an end so as not to be tedious, but leave the Company an appetite: As you would desire silence from others being thus applied, be yon attentive, and not talkative when others are exercising their harmonious voices.

Let the Songs you make choice of be modest,

yet witty, and ingenious; and because there are so many, which though they may please the ear, yet may corrupt good manners; let me give you this caution to have a care.

Of wanton Songs, and idle Ballads.

Let your prudence renounce a little pleasure for a great deal of danger. To take delight in an idle vain Song without staining your self with the obscenity of it, is a thing in my mind almost impossible; for wickedness enters insensibly by the ear into the Soul, and what care soever we take to guard and defend our selves, yet still it is a difficult task not to be tainted with the pleasing and alluring poyson thereof.

Physicians endeavour to perswade the wiser sort of men, as well as ignorant and credulous women, That a Mother fixing stedfastly her eye on a Picture, she will secretly convey the Com∣plexion, or some other mark on the Infant; from hence we may be induced to believe, that lascivious and wanton expressions contain'd in some Songs and Ballads may have the same effect in our imagination, and do most frequent∣ly leave behind them some foul impressions in our spirits.

The reading these wanton things do heat by little and little; it insensibly takes away the hor∣rour and repugnancy you ought to have to evil; by this means you acquaint your self so thorowly with the image of Vice, that afterwards you fear it not though you meet with Vice it self.

Licentiousness is not bred in a moment, at one

and the same instant; so the contagion of loose Songs seizeth by degrees on the heart; they may be said to work on the minds of youth as seed in the ground, it first appears only above the sur∣face of the Earth, but every day afterwards adds to its growth till it be fit for the sickle.

Nay more, these Songs of wantonness will breed in you a more than fitting boldness, which will put you on the confidence of practising what you read or sing. Assure your self, if you ad∣mit of a familiarity with these things, your inno∣ceny will be in daily danger.

You may easily believe this to be truth, if you consider the multiplicity of vanity and trumpery which stuff these Ballads; how an amorous or rather foolishly fond Virgin forsook Kindred and Country, to run after a stranger and her Lover. In another you find how craftily two Lovers had plotted their private meetings to prosecute their unlawful enjoyments; and the Letters that pass between for the continuation of their affe∣ction; which straight ways makes the Reader up to the ears in Love. In the one is exprest the Con∣stancy of two Fools one to the other; in the other, what trouble, what hazzard, and what not, they run into, to ruin themselves, distract their Parents, and leave a stain on their own reputa∣tions, never to be washt out.

These are the things which contain cunning Lessons to learn the younger sort to sin more wittily; and therefore no judicious person can comprehend with what reason these dangerous Songs and Sonnets can be justified.

The Lacedemonians prohibited Plays, because

Adulteries were exhibited; then why should such Pamphlets be permitted where such dishonest actions, lascivious examples, and extravagant passions are maintained? Shall it be said, that Christians have less love for Virtue than In∣fidels?

Ladies, accuse me not of too much severity, in endeavouring to take away this too much accustomed delight in singing wanton, though witty Sonnets: I say excuse me rather, since I aim at nothing more than your welfare. I know your inclinations as you are young and youthful, tend rather to these things, than what is more serious; and are apt to read those Books which rather corrupt and deprave good manners than teach them.

Some may be so vain as to delight more in a Comedy than a Sermon, and had rather hear a Jack-pudding than a Preacher: This made a sober Philosopher complain, he had fewer Scho∣lars than such a one of meaner parts, and a greater Libertine; because there are more who haunt the School of Voluptuousness, than that of Virtue, and we love them better who flat∣ter and make us merry, than those who tell us the truth, and the danger, if we follow not her precepts.

Wherefore I cannot allow of any sort of Poe∣try, though it be ever so ingenious, if Vice lurk therein to do you harm; and wheresoever you find Vice, let it be your intention and strong resolution to fight against it, and throw aside all those instruments and implements, which will but learn you to fin with the greater dex∣terity.

This is one vanity the younger sort in∣cline to, and there are a great many more which our Sex (and to their shame) are prone to follow, take a brief account of them.

Of the Vanities some young Ladies and Gentle∣women are too prone to prosecute.

I need not speak of the vanity of Gentle∣women in overmuch affecting bravery, since we find it thorowly ingrafted in most of them; so that we may as easily take off their skins from their bodies, as this vanity from their minds.

If this were to be observed only in some particular Court-Ladies, it were something ex∣cusable; but this is an innate humour, an ori∣ginal sin which Gentlewomen bring into the world with them; the tincture of which infir∣mity their Baptism washeth not off. From hence proceeds the Babel or confusion of Habits, in∣somuch that of late there is neither order ob∣served, nor distinction; a Chamber-maid finifi∣ed on a Festival or Holiday, may be taken for her Mistress, and a Citizens Wife mistaken for a Court-Lady.

Where shall we find any so regular as to follow the dictates of Modesty and Mediocrity, so that the most fevere cannot blame their su∣perfluities, nor the more favourable accuse their defects? A young Gentlewoman well accom∣plisht, is like a Star with five rays, Devotion, Modesty, Chastity, Discretion and Charity; such Women whose composition is made up of these,

seem to have been moulded upon the Coelestial Globes, by the hands of Cherubims; so excel∣lent are their Virtues, and so sweet their de∣portments; they are in their Houses as the Sun in his proper Sphere: Should I attempt to re∣present their worth, I might sooner find pover∣ty in the Center of all the rich Ore and pre∣cious stones of the Earth, than want of merit in this subject.

Were all our Sex of the same temper, by be∣ing inhabitants of this Earth, they would spee∣dily convert it into a Heaven. But alas, too many there are who every day must be dressed up like Idols, as if they intended thereby to be worshipped. Their Filles de Chambre have more to do in attending their Beauties, than some have in fitting and rigging out a Navy. Their Glass with studied advantages takes up the whole morning, and the afternoon is spent in visits.

And indeed should a man come into some Ladies Chambers unacquainted with the Furni∣ture that belong'd to them, and seeing them lie on the Table, having never seen such va∣nities before, would think them the coverings and utensils of some Creature of a monstrous and prodigious bulk, and that there was Mer∣cery enough to furnish a little City, rather than the body of a little Lady. They may be fitly compared to some Birds I have seen, who though they have but little bodies, yet have abundance of Feathers. And though they seem to load themselves with variety of things, yet they do but seem to cover what they should disclose to none; and though they have but

little flesh, they will show as much of it as they can. It was a true saying of one, and very ap∣plicable to this purpose; I know not what may be reserved for the eyes of a chast Husband, when al∣most through all Markets where they go, the secret parts of his Wives body are exposed, as if they were ready to be delivered to the best bidders.

Moreover, how dangerous is it for young Gentlewomen to affect a small Waste, thinking that the most exquisite proportion? endeavou∣ring by strait-lacing to be as slender in the mid∣dle as the Strand-May-pole is tall in its height. I am sure they are big enough to be wiser, who never think themselves finer, than when the Girl with her span can make a girdle. I know, Gentlewomen, that the inconveniences which attend this affectation, do not proceed altoge∣ther from you, or that you are in the fault, but your Mothers or Nurses: but did they know how speedily and wilfully they destroy you by girding your tender bodies, certainly they would prove kinder Mothers, than be your cruel Murderers. For by this means they reduce your bodies into such pinching-extremities, that it engenders a stinking breath; and by cloister∣ing you up in a Steel or Whale-bone-prison, they open a door to Consumptions, with many other dangerous inconveniences, as crookedness: for Mothers striving to have their daughters bodies small in the middle, do pluck and draw their bones awry; for the ligatures of the back being very tender at that age, and soft and moist, with all the Muscles, do easily slip aside. Thus Nurses, whilst they too straitly do lace the breasts

and sides of children on purpose to make them slender, do occasion the breast-bone to cast it self aside, whereby one shoulder doth become bigger and fuller than the other.

Though I would not have too great a re∣striction laid on your bodies, yet I would not have them by inconsiderate loosness run out into a deformed corpulency, like the Venecian-Ladies, who seldom lace themselves at all, ac∣counting it an excellency in proportion to be round and full-bodied: and that they may at∣tain that (meerly supposed) comeliness, if Na∣ture incline them not to be somewhat gross or corpulent, they will use art, by counterfeiting that fulness of body, by the fulness of garments. Thus you see, that in all things (except Piety) Mediocrity, or the Golden-mean, is to be ob∣served.

Of a young Gentlewoman's fit hours and times for their Recreation and Pleasure, and how to go∣vern themselves therein.

THE chief, thing that you ought to con∣sider, is, how to govern and behave your selves in your Pastimes: Wisdom therein must be your guide; and the chief rule it can teach you, is, To shun all pleasures which are vicious; and in the reception of those which are lawful, exceed not the Rule, nor Moderation; which consist, first, in not giving offence, scandal, da∣mage, or prejudice, to your associates or others: Next, that it be without injury to your health, re∣putation, or business. Lastly, Let your Recreation be with moderation.

You must by no means make pleasure your bu∣siness, but by the enjoyment thereof return with more alacrity and chearfulness to your business: Young Ladies may use it, but not abuse it, which they never do more than in the excess thereof; for it softneth and weakneth the vigour both of Soul and Body, it besotteth the best complexi∣ons, and banisheth the principal Vertues.

If pleasure be taken as it was at first provi∣ded, it will be taken without a sting; but if you exceed either in measure or manner, you pollute the purer stream, and drink your own destruction. The Heathen of old did put a check on Men and Women, forbidding them to let loose the reins to all the corrupt and mistaken pleasures of this life, much more should Christians forbear the inordinate enjoyment of them.

Above all, these pleasures are most to be com∣mended, which in every respect are so lawful, that they leave in the Conscience no private check behind them to upbraid the sense for the unlawful using of them. He that plungeth him∣self into a puddle, doth but engage himself there∣by to an after washing, to purge that filth away he contracted by that imprudent action. Or would you be so mad to feed on that you are certain will make you sick in the eating? Almighty God would never have allowed you the desire of pleasure, nor the faculties to enjoy it, if he had not design'd that with decency you should use them. An action of this kind is but natural, and will not be unlawful unless it be found to run into excess attended with unlaw∣ful circumstances.

There is so much corruption adhering to the use of pleasure, by exceeding the measure, mi∣staking the manner, misplacing the time; that al∣though Recreations be lawful in themselves, yet if they be circumstanced amiss, they are not expedient.

Recreations and pleasures are indisputably lawful, if you are not irregular in measure, man∣ner, or time; had they been otherwise our most wise and merciful Creator would never have made them so distinct in their kinds, nor so many in their number. All the several tastes in food and fruit were intended to please the pallate, as well as satisfie the appetite. Of all the beau∣tiful and pleasant fruits in Paradise there was but one only Tree excepted. From hence it may be concluded, Mankind may enjoy those de∣lights which they have a well-grounded inclinati∣on unto, with this proviso, they abuse them not.

Before you do or act any thing, examine well the sequel; if that be clear the present enjoy∣ment will be accompanied with content, otherwise it will end in repentance.

What Recreations and Pleasures are most fitting and proper for young Gentlewomen.

REcreations which are most proper and suit∣able to Ladies, may be rankt under four principal heads, Musick, Dancing, Limning and Reading. Of Dancing I have already leightly treated on in the directions for your deportment at Balls; however this I shall say further of it, that though the Romans had no very great esteem

for it, as may appear by Salusts speaking of Sem∣pronia, She danced better than became a virtuous Lady; yet the mode and humour of these times look upon it not only as a generous and be∣coming property, but look upon Gentility ill bred if not thorowly acquainted therewith; and to speak the truth it is the best and readiest way to put the body into a graceful posture; behaviour must of necisity hault without it; and how will you blush when you come into a mixt society, where each person strives to shew her utmost art and skill in Dancing, and you for the want there∣of must stand still, and appear like one whose body was well framed but wanted motion, or a soul to actuate it.

In the next place, Musick is without doubt an excellent quality; the ancient Philosophers were of the opinion, that Souls were made of Har∣mony; and that that Man or Woman could not be virtuously inclined who loved not Mu∣sick, wherefore without it a Lady or Gentle∣woman can hardly be said to be absolutely accom∣plished.

Limning is an excellent qualification for a Gen∣tlewoman to exercise and please her fancy there∣in. There are a many foreign Ladies that are ex∣cellent Artists herein; neither are there wanting Examples enough in his Majesty's three King∣doms of such Gentlewomen whose indefatigable industry in this laudible and ingenious Art may run parallel with such as make it their pro∣fession.

Some may add Stage-plays as a proper re∣creation for Gentlewomen; as to that (provided

they have the consent of Parents or Governess) I shall leave them to make use of their own liberty, as they shall think convenient.

I am not ignorant that Stage-plays have been much envy'd at, and not without just cause; yet most certain it is, that by a wise use, and a right application of many things we hear and see contain'd therein, we may meet with many excellent precepts for instruction, and sundry great Examples for caution, and such notable passages, which being well applied (as what may not be perverted) will confer no small profit to the cautious and judicious Hearers. Edward the Sixth the Reformer of the English Church, did so much approve of Plays, that he appointed a Courtier eminent for wit and fancy to be the chief Officer in supervising, ordering, and disposing what should be acted or repre∣sented before his Majesty; which Office at this time retains the name of Master of the Revels. Queen Elizabeth, that incomparable Virtuous Princess, was pleased to term Plays the harmless Spenders of time, and largely contributed to the maintenance of the Authors and Actors of them.

But if the moderate recourse of Gentlewo∣men to Plays may be excused, certainly the daily and constant frequenting them, is as much to be condemned.

There are an hundred divertisements harm∣less enough, which a young Lady may find out, suitable to her inclination; but give me leave to find out one for her which hath the atten∣dance of profit as well as pleasure, and that is Reading.

Mistake me not; I mean the reading of Books whose subjects are noble and honourable. There are some in these later days so Stoical, that they will not allow any Books to Womankind, but such as may teach them to read, and the Bi∣ble. The most severe of them do willingly permit young Gentlewomen to converse with wise and learned men; I know not then by what strange nicety they would keep them from reading their Works. There are a sort of Re∣ligious men in forreign parts, who do not de∣bar the people from knowing there is a Bible; yet they prohibit them from looking into it.

I would fain ask these sower Stoicks what can be desired for the ornament of the mind, which is not largely contain'd and exprest in Books; where Virtue is to be seen in all her lovely and glorious dresses, and Truth discovered in what manner soever it is desired. We may be∣hold it in all its force, in the Philosophers; with all its purity in faithful Historians; with all its beauty and ornaments in golden-tongu'd Orators, and ingenious Poets.

In this pleasing variety (whatsoever your humour be) you may find matter for delecta∣tion and information. Reading is of most ex∣quisite and requisite use, if for nothing but this, that these dumb Teachers instrust impartially. Beauty, as well as Royalty, is constantly atten∣ded with more flatterers than true informers. To discover and acknowledg their faults, it is necessary that they sometimes learn of the dead what the living either dare not or are loth to tell them. Books are the true discoverers of the

mind's imperfections, as a glass the faults of their face; herein shall they find Judges that cannot be corrupted with love or hate. The fair and the foul are both alike treated, having to do with such who have no other eyes but to put a difference between Virtue and Vice. In perswading you to read, I do not advise you should read all Books; advise with persons of understanding in your choice of Books; and fancy not their quantity but quality. For why should ye seek that in many which you may find in one? The Sun, whilst in our Hemisphere, needs no other light but its own to illuminate the World. One Book may serve for a Library. The reading of few Books, is not to be less knowing, but to be the less troubled.

Of the guidance of a Ladies love and fancy.

I Suppose you, virtuous Ladies and Gentle∣women to whom I direct this Discourse, yet know, that though you are victoriously seated in the Fort of Honour, yet Beauty cannot be there planted, but it must be attempted. How∣ever I would have you so constantly gracious in your resolves, that though it be assaulted, it can∣not be soiled; attempted but never attainted.

How incident and prone our whole Sex is to love, especially when young, my blushes will ac∣knowledg without the assistance of my tongue; now since our inclination so generally tend to love and fancy, and knowing withal how much the last good or evil of our whole lives depend there∣on, give me leave to trace them in all or most of

their Meanders, wherein you will find such suit∣able instructions as will give you for the future safe and sound direction.

Fancy is an affection privily received in by the eye, and speedily convey'd to the heart; the eye is the Harbinger, but the heart is the Har∣bourer.

Look well before you like; love conceived at first sight seldom lasts long, therefore delibe∣rate with your love, lest your love be misgui∣ded; for to love at first look makes an house of misrule.

Portion may woo a Worldling, Proportion a youthful Wanton, but it is Vertue which wins the heart of Discretion; admit he have the one to purchase your esteem, and the other to main∣tain your Estate; yet his breast is not so trans∣parent as to know the badness of his dispositi∣on; if you then take his humour on trust, it may prove so perverse and peevish, that your expe∣cted Heaven of bliss may be converted into an Haven of insupportable crosses. Themistocles be∣ing asked by a Noble-man, Whether he had ra∣ther marry his Daughter to a vicious Rich man or an Honest poor man? return'd this answer, That he had rather have a man without money than money without a man. Whence it was that prudent Portia replied, being asked, When she would marry? then said she, When I find one that seeks me, and not mine.

There is no time requires more Modesty from a young Gentlewoman, than in wooing-time; a shamefast red then best commends her, and is the most moving Orator that speaks in her behalf.

Like Venus Silver Dove she is ever brouzing on the Palm of Peace, while her Cheeks betray her love more than her tongue.

There is a pretty pleasing kind of wooing drawn from a conceived yet concealed fancy-Might they chuse, they would converse with them freely, consort with them friendly, and impart their truest thoughts fully, yet would they not have their bashful loves find discovery.

Phillis, to willows, like a cunning Flyer Flys, yet she fears her Shepherd should not spy her.

Whatever you do be not induced to marry one you have either abhorrency or loathing to; for it is neither affluence of estate, potency of friends, nor highness of descent can allay the insufferable grief of a loathed bed. Wherefore (Gentlewomen) to the intent you may shew your selves discreetest in that, which requires your discreetion most, discuss with your selves the parity of love and the quality of your Lover, ever reflecting on those best endowments which render him worthy or unworthy of your grea∣test estimation. A discreet eye will not be taken only with a proportionable body, or smooth countenance; it is not the rind but the mind that is her Loadstone.

Justina a Roman Maid, no less nobly descen∣ded than notably accomplished, exclaimed much against her too rigid fate in being married to one more rich than wise: And good reason had she, being untimely made by his groundless jealousie a sad tragick spectacle of misery. For

the whiteness of her neck was an object which begot in him a slender argument of suspect, which he seconded with rash revenge.

Let deliberation then be the Scale wherein you may weigh love with an equal poize. There are many high consequent-circumstances which a discreet Woman will not only discourse, but discuss, before she enter into that hazzardous though honourable state of Marriage.

Disparity in descent, fortunes, friends, do of∣ten beget a distraction in the mind. Disparity of years breeds dislike, obscurity of descent be∣gets contempt, and inequality of fortunes dis∣content.

If you marry one very young, bear with his youth, till riper experience bring him to a bet∣ter understanding. Let your usage be more easie than to wean him from what he affects by ex∣tremity. Youth will have his swing; time will reclaim, and discretion will bring him home at last. So conform your self to him as to confirm your love in him, and undoubtedly this con∣jugal duty, mixt with affability, will compleat∣ly conquer the moroseness of his temper. If he be old, let his age beget in you the greater re∣verence; his words shall be as so many aged and time improved precepts to inform you; his actions as so many directions to guide you; his kind rebukes as so many friendly admoni∣tions to reclaim you; his Bed you must so honour, as not to let an unchast thought defile it; his Counsel so keep, as not to trust it in any others breast; be a staff in his age to support him, and an hand upon all occasions to help him.

If he be rich, this shall not or must not make you proud; but let your desire be, that you both employ it to the best advantage. Communicate to the Needy, that your Wealth may make you truly happy. That is a miserable Wealth which starves the Owner. I have heard of one worth scores of thousands of pounds who bought billets, not for fewel but luggage; not to burn them and so warm himself, but to carry them on a frosty morning up stairs and down, and so heat himself by that labouring exercise. Where∣fore let me perswade you to enjoy your own, and so shun baseness; reserve a provident care for your own, and so avoid profuseness.

Is your Husband fallen to poverty; let his poor condition make you rich; there is certainly no want, where there wants no content. It is a common saying, That as Poverty goes in at one door, Love goes out at the other; and love without har∣bour falls into a cold and aguish distemper; let this never direct your thoughts, let your affecti∣on counterpoize all afflictions. No adversity should divide you from him, if your vowed faith hath individually tyed you to him.

Thus if you expostulate, your Christian con∣stant resolves shall make you fortunate. If your fancy be on grounded deliberation, it will pro∣mise you such good success, as your Marriage-days shall never fear the bitter encounter of un∣timely repentance, nor the cureless anguish of an afflicted conscience.

Now as I would have you, Gentlewomen, to be slow in entertaining, so be most constant in re∣taining. Lovers or Favourites are not to be worn

like Favers; now near your bosom, or about your wrist, and presently out of all request. Which to prevent, entertain none so near your heart, whom you observe to harbour in his breast something that may deserve your hate.

Carefully avoid the acquaintance of Strangers; and neither affect variety nor glory in the mul∣tiplicity of your Suitors. For there is no grea∣ter argument of mutability add leightness. Con∣stant you cannot be where you profess, if change you do affect. Have a care, vows de∣liberately advised, and religiously grounded, are not to be slighted or dispensed with. Before any such things are made, sift him, if you can find any bran in him; task him, before you tye your self to take him. And when your desires are drawn to this period, become so taken with the love of your Choice, as to inter∣pret all his actions in the best sense; this will make one Soul rule two hearts, and one heart dwell in two bodies,

Before you arrive to this honourable condition all wanton fancy you must lay aside, for it will never promise you good success since the effect cannot be good where the object is evil. Wanton love hath a thousand devices to purchase a mi∣nutes penitential pleasure. Her eye looks, and by that the sense of her mind is averted; her ear hears, and by it the intention of the heart is perverted; her smell breathes, and by it her good thoughts are hindred; her mouth speaks, and by it others are deceived; by touch, her heat of desire upon every small occasion is stirred, ne∣ver did Orlando rage more for his Angelica than

these Utopian Lovers for their imaginary sha∣dows.

These exorbitancies we must endeavour to remedy; and that therein we may use the me∣thod of art, we must first remove the cause, and the effect will follow. Let me then discover the incendiaries of this disorderly passion, next the effects arising from them, and lastly their cure or remedy.

The original grounds of this wanton fancy, or wandring phrenzie, are included in these two lines.

Sloth, Words, Books, Eyes, Consorts, and luscious fare, The lures of lust, and stains of honour are.

For the first, sententious Seneca saith, He had rather be exposed to the utmost extremities For∣tune can inflict on him, than subject himself to Slotb and Sensuality. For it is this only which maketh of Men, Women; of Women, Beasts; and of Beasts, Monsters.

Secondly, Words corrupt the Disposition; they set an edg or gloss on depraved liberty; making that member offend most, when it should be imployed in profiting most.

Thirdly, Books treating of leight Subjects, are Nurseries of wantonness; remove them timely from you, if they ever had entertain∣ment by you, lest like the Snake in the Fable, they annoy you.

Fourthly, Eyes are those windows by which death enters. Eve looked on the fruit before she coveted; coveting, she tasted; and tasting,

she perished; place them then on those objects, whose real beauty make, take them, and not on such vanities which miserably taint them.

Fifthly, Consorts are thieves of time, which will rob you of many precious opportunities. Chuse then such Consorts of whom you may have assured hope, that they will either better you, or be better'd by you. Chuse such whom you may admire when you see and hear them; when you see their living-Doctrine, and hear their wholsome instruction.

Lastly, Luscious fare is the fewel of inor∣dinate desires, which you must abstain from, or be very temperate in, if you intend to have your understanding strengthned, virtue nourish∣ed, and a healthy bodily Constitution.

The next thing we are to insist upon, is, the evil effects of this wanton fancy, many may be here inserted, might I not be taxed with pro∣lixity, and terrifie the Reader with examples of too much horror and cruelty. But if you would understand them, our late Italian Stories will afford you variety, for the satisfaction of your curiosity; where indiscreet love closeth her dole∣ful Scene with so miserable an Exit, as no Pen∣cil can express any picture more to life than an Historical line hath drawn out the web of their misfortunes.

Now to cure this desperate malady (though to you, Gentlewomen, I hope the cure is need∣less, being void of all such violent distempers) the best and most soveraign receipt, is to forti∣fie the weakness of your Sex with strength of resolution. Be not too liberal in the bestowing

your favours; nor too familiar in publick converse.

Make a contract with your eyes not to wan∣der abroad, lest they be catcht in coming home. Treat net of love too freely; play no waggish tricks with the blind boy; he hath a danger∣ous aun, though he hath no eyes; sport not with him that may hurt you; play not with him that would play on you. Your sports will turn to an ill jest, when you are wounded in earnest; let the Fly be your Emblem.

So long the foolish Fly plays with the flame, Till her leight wings are sindged in the same.

Be watchful; there are many snares which students in Loves mysteries have laid to entrap Female credulity. How many are there can tip their tongues with Rhetorical protestations, pur∣posely to gull a believing creature, for the pur∣chase of an unlawful pleasure; which no sooner obtained, then the person slighted and left alone to bemoan her irrecoverable Iost honour? With more safety therefore ought you ro suspect, than too rashly to affect; and be sure you check your wild fancy by time, lest a remediless check attend your choice. Repentance comes too late at the Marriage-night.

And yet I cannot commend your extraordi∣nary coolness in affection, flighting all, as if none were worthy of your choice. The ex∣treams of these two indisposed fancies ought to be seasoned with an indifferent temper.

Now the difference betwixt a wise and a wild love is this; The one ever deliberates be∣fore

it loves; and the other loves before it de∣liberates.

There are a sort of wild Girls who com∣pute their riches by the quantity of their Suitors. I have heard of a couple of Maids of different temper, who contending with one another, said the one, I have such and such vertuous and weal∣thy relations. I but (replied the other) I have more Suiters than thou hast friends. More shame∣less you (answered the other) unless you mean to set up an house of entertainment. Such an one as this, never cares for more than to be married; if she may but see that day, it accomplisheth her con∣tent; though she have but one Comical- day all her life: Yea, it is as well as can be ex∣pected from their hands, if they attain unto that stile without some apparent foil. Such as these I could wish, to prevent the worst, they were married betimes, lest they marr themselves before time.

To you then kind-hearted, Gentlewomen, am I to recommend some necessary cautions; the careful observation of which I hope will prevent that danger which threatens the goodness of your Sex and Natures. The Index of your hearts you carry in your eyes and tongues; for shame learn silence in the one, and secrecy in the other. Give not the power to an in∣sulting Lover to triumph over your weakness; and which is worse, to work on the opportu∣nity of your leightness. Rather damm up those portels which-betray you to your enemy; and prevent his entry by your vigilancy. Keep home and straggle not, lest by gadding abroad you fall

into Dinah's danger and mishap. Let not a stray'd thought prove the Traytor to your In∣nocency. Check your roving fancy; and if it use resistance, curb it with greater restraint.

And now a word or two to you cov 〈…〉〈…〉 dies, whom either coldness of nature hath be numb'd, or coyness hath made subtil to dissemble it. You can look and like, and yet turn away your head from what you love most. No ob∣ject of love can take you, till it overtake you.

You may be modest, and spare a great deal of this coyness; yet so conceal and smoothly palliate your love, as your Lover may not de∣spair of obtaining it. Indifferent courtesies you may shew without leightness, and receive them too in lieu of thankfulness.

Have a special regard to your Honour, which is of an higher esteem than to be undervalued. Leight occasions are often-times grounds of deep aspersions. Actions are to be seasoned with discretion, seconded by direction, strengthened with instruction, lest too much rashness bring the undertaker to destruction.

In the Labyrinth of this Life, many are our Cares, mighty are our Fears, strong our Assai∣lants, weak our Assistance; and therefore we had need have the Brazen-wall within us, to fortifie us against these evil occurrents. The scene of your life is short; so live then that your noble actions may preserve your memory long. It was the advice of Seneca to his Friend, Never to do any thing without imagining a Cato, a Scipio, or some other worthy Roman was present. To second his advice (which may

confer on your glorious actions eternal praise), Set always before your eyes, as an imitable mirrour, some good Woman or other, before whom you may live, as if she eyed and con∣tinually viewed you. There is no scarcity of Ex∣amples of such famous Women, who though weak in Sex and condition, yet parallels to Men for Charity, Chastity, Piety, Purity, and vertuous Conversation. It will not be amiss here in this place to insert some few eminent patterns for your Imitation.

The Gentlewomans Mirrour, or Patterns for their imitation of such famous Women who have been eminent in Piety and Learning.

REvisit those ancient Families of Rome, and you shall find those Matrons make a Pa∣gan State seem Morally Christian. Octavia, Portia, Caecilia, Cornelia, were such, who though dead, their actions will make their memories live perpetu∣ally: Nor were Niostrata, Corvina and Sappho, Women less famous for Learning, than the other for blameless-Living. Neither have our modern times less flourished with feminine Worthies, as might be illustrated with several eminent instan∣ces, were there not already of them so many Panagyricks already extant.

It is said of Dorcas, She was full of good works and alms which she did. Yea even the Coats and Garments which she made when living, were shown the Apostle as arguments of her indu∣stry, and memorials of her piety. Hence it was that Saint Jerome counselled the holy Virgin

Demetrias to eschew idleness; exhorting her when she had finished her Devotion, she should work with her hands after the commendable example of Dorcus; so that by change of works the day might seem less tedious, and the assaults of the Devil less grievous. And know, that this De∣metrias was not one whom poverty did enforce to such actions of necessity, but one honourably descended, richly endowed, powerfully frien∣ded.

Devout mention is made of zealous Anna, who made frequent recourse to the Temple. Of whom to her succeeding memory the Scripture recordeth, that after her tears devoutly shed, her prayers sincerely offer'd, her religious vows faithfully performed, she became fully satisfied: thus sighing she sought, seeking she obtain'd, and obtaining she retained a grateful memory of what she received.

Queen Esther, with what fervency and zeal did she make Gods cause the progress of her course, desiring nothing more than how to effect it, which was seconded with a successful con∣clusion? because begun, continued, and ended with devotion.

Neither was Judith backward in zeal, faith armed her with resolution, and constancy strengthned her against all opposition: Prayer was her armour, and holy desires her sole at∣tendants. Nazianzen reporteth of his sister Gorgonia, that by reason of the incessancy of her prayers, her knees seemed to cleave to the Earth. Gregory relates, that his Aunt Thrasilla being dead, was found to have her Elbows as hard

as horn, which became so by leaning to a Desk, at which she usually prayed. Such as these de∣serve your imitation, who prayed and obtain'd what they pray'd for, they liv'd and practic'd what they sought for; they dy'd and enjoy'd what they so long sighed for.

Should you consider what troops of furious and implacable enemies lies in Ambuscado for you; how many Soul-tempting Syrens are warbling notes of ruin to delude you; what fears within you, what foes without you, what furies all about you, you would not let one minute to pass undedicated to some good employment.

The commendable and admired Chastity of Penelope must not be forgot, which suffer'd a daily siege; and her conquest was no less victo∣rious than those Peers of Greece, who made Troy their triumph. Estimation was her highest prize; Suiters she got; yet amidst these was not her Ulysses forgot. Long absence had not estran∣ged her affection; youthful consorts could not move in her thoughts the least distraction; neither could opportunity induce her to give way to any leight action. Well might famous Greece then esteem her Penelope of more lasting fame than any Pyramid that ever she erected. Her unblemished esteem was of purer stuff than any Ivory Statue that could be reared.

Nor was Rome less beholden to her Lucretia, who set her honour at so high a price, that she held death too leight to redeem such a prize.

Though force, fright, foes and furies gaz'd upon her, Those were no wounds but wonders to her honour.

The presence of a Prince no less amorous than victorious, could not win her; though with him, price, prayer and power, did jointly woo her. Well deserved such two modest Matrons the choice embraces of two such heroick Champions as might equal their constant loves with the tender of their dearest lives.

There were seven Milesian Virgins, who at such time as the Gauls raved and raged every where, subjecting all to fire and faggot, deprived them∣selves of life, lest hostile force should deprive them of their honour. I have read of two Maidens living in Leuctra, a Town in Boeotia, who having in their Fathers absence hospitably entertained two young men, by whom made drunk with Wine, they were deflowred that very night; the next morning conceiving a mu∣tual sorrow for their lost Virginity, became re∣solute Actors in their own bloody Tragedy.

We may draw nearer home, and instance this Maiden-constancy in one of our own. It was not long since there lived within the Walls of London a notable spirited Girl, who notwith∣standing she frequented places of publick con∣course boldly, discoursed freely, expressed her self in all assays forwardly, yet so tender was she in the preservation of her honour, that be∣ing on a time highly courted by a spruce and finical Gallant, who was as much taken with the height of her spirit, wherewith she was en∣dowed, as he preferred it before the beauty of an amorous face, wherewith she was not mean∣ly enriched. She presently apprehending the loosness of his desires, seemingly condescended;

so that the business might be so secretly ma∣naged, as no occasion of suspition may be pro∣bably grounded. In order hereunto a Coach is provided, all things prepared, the place appoin∣ted where they shall meet, which for more priva∣cy must be the Country. Time and place they observed; but before she would admit him to her embraces, she told him (calling him aside) that she would never consent to any such thing with any man, unless she had first tried his va∣lour in the field; and to that purpose she had furnished her self with a Sword, and therefore bid him draw, he smilingly refus'd, as thinking she was in jest, but seeing by her home-passes how carnestly she prosecuted his life, he was constrained to draw; but this Virago, which was metal to the back, disarm'd him in an instant, and had like to have made this a bloody com∣bat, instead of an amorous conflict. Our ama∣zed Gallant not knowing what to think, say, or do, was at last compell'd to beg his life of her; in granting which, she bestow'd on him plenti∣fully her Kicks, advising him ever after to be more wary in the attempting a Maidens Ho∣nour.

Excellent was the answer of the Lacedemo∣nian Wives, who being courted and tempted to lewd and immodest actions, made this reply, Surely we should give way to this your request, but this you sue for, lies not in our power to grant; for when we were Maids, we were to be disposed of by our Parents; and now being Wives, by our Husbands.

Lastly, (that I may avoid prolixity) what

singular mirrors of vidual continency and Ma∣tron-like modesty were, Cornelia, Vetruria, Livia and Salvina? Now what may you suppose did these Pagan Ladies hold to be the absolute end whereto this tender care of their reputation as∣pired chiefly, and wherein it most cheerfully rested? it was not riches, for these they contem∣ned, so their honour might be preserved: Cer∣tainly there was implanted in them an innate de∣sire of moral goodness, mixed with an honest ambition, so to advance their esteem during life, that they might become Examples to others of a good moral life, and perpetuate their me∣mories after death.

Your ambition, Gentlewomen, must mount more high, because your Conversation is most heavenly. It is immortality you aspire to, a low∣er orb cannot hold you; nothing else may con∣fine you.

Of Marriage, and the duty of a Wife to her Husband.

MArriage is an holy and inviolable bond; if the choice on both sides be good and well ordered, there is nothing in the world that is more beautiful, more comfortable. It is a sweet society, full of trust and loyalty. It is a fellowship, not of hot distempered love, but endeared affection; for these two are as differ∣ent as the inflamed fit of an high Feaver, from the natural heat of a sound and healthy body. Love in the first acceptation is a distemper, and no wonder then that Marriages succeed so

ill, which have their original from such disor∣dered amorous desires. This boiling affection is seldom worth any thing. There are these two Essentials in Marriage, Superiority and In∣feriority. Undoubtedly the Husband hath pow∣er over the Wife, and the Wife ought to be subject to the Husband in all thing. Although the Wife be more noble in her extraction, and more wealthy in portion, yet being once mar∣ried is inferior to her Husband in condition. Man, of human-kind, was Gods first workman∣ship; Woman was made after Man, and of the same substance, to be subservient and assisting to him.

Though the power of an Husband in this Kingdom extends it self farther than it is com∣monly exercised, yet something more moderate than in forreign parts. Amongst the Romans the Husband had power to kill the Wife in four cases; Adultery, suborning of Children, coun∣terfeiting false Keys, and drunkenness.

It is customary among the Indians (but I do not therefore approve of it as lawful) that when the Husband dies, the death of the Wife imme∣diately follows. This is not only practised by the publick Laws of the Country, but often times with such ardent affection, that the Wives (for they allow Polygamy) will contend one amongst the other who shall first sleep with their depar∣ted Husband. Though this custom I cannot only reject as unreasonable, but cruel and hor∣rible; so I cannot but applaud those Wives (as they are in duty bound) who affectionately and patiently content themselves to accompany their

Husbands in all conditions, in adversity as well as prosperity.

Many Examples hereof we may find at home as well as abroad; though in these late de∣praved and corrupted times there are not so many as may justly be desired. Lentulus being exiled by a Decree of the Roman Senate into Sicily, his loving Wife Sulpitia sold all, and fol∣lowed him thither. Ipsicrates followed her van∣quished Husband and King Mithridates through∣out all extremities, notwithstanding she was ad∣vantagiously perswaded to the contrary.

Theagena Wife to Agathocles shew'd admirable constancy in her Husbands greatest misery; shew∣ing her self most his own, when he was relin∣quisht and forsaken of his own; closing her re∣solution with this noble conclusion, She had not only betaken her self to be his companion in prosperity, but in all fortunes which should be∣fall him.

Conform your selves to this mirror, and it will reform in you many a dangerous error. Thus if you live, thus if you love, honour can∣not chuse but accompany you living; much comfort attend you loving, and a virtuous me∣mory embalm you dying.

The more particular duties of a Wife to an Husband, are first, to have a greater esteem for him than for any other person; and withal, to have a setled apprehension, that he is wife and prudent. That Woman that will entertain mean and low thoughts of her Husband, will be easi∣ly induced to love another, whom she ought not to affect. On this good esteem depends a

great part of the Wives obedience, who will be apt to run into extravagancies when she is once possessed of the weakness of her Husbands understanding: She is to give honour, respect, and reverence to her Husband; so have the wi∣sest ever done; and those which do it not, betray their indiscretion; with reverence she is to express her obedience in all lawful things; and apply and accommodate her self (as much as in her lies) to his humour and disposition.

You must be mindful of what you promised your Husband in Marriage; and the best demon∣stration thereof will be in your carriage; ho∣nour and obey, and love no mans company bet∣ter than his.

Be quiet, pleasant, and peaceable with him, and be not angry, when he is so; but endeavour to pacifie him with sweet and winning expres∣sions; and if casually you should provoke him to a passion, be not long ere you shew some re∣gret, which may argue how much you are dis∣pleased with your self for so doing; nay bear his anger patiently, though without a cause.

Be careful to keep your house in good order, and let all things with decency be in readiness when he comes to his repast; let him not wait for his meals, lest by so staying, his affairs be diorder'd or impeded. And let what ever you provide be so neatly and cleanly drest, that his fare, though ordinary, may engage his appetite, and disingage his fancy from Taverns, which many are compell'd to make ufe of by reason of the continual and daily dissatisfactions they find at home.

Shew respect and kindness to what Friends he brings home with him; but more especially to his Relations; for by this means he will find your love to him by your respect to them; and they will be obliged to love you for your own as well as his sake.

Suffer not any to buz in your ears detract∣ing stories of him, and abhor it in your Ser∣vants; for it is your duty to hide his faults and infirmities, and not detect them your self, or suffer them to be discovered. Take them for your greatest enemies who perswade you against your Husband; for without question they have some dangerous design in it. Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder; Cur∣sed then is that instrument which occasions their seperation.

Breed up your Children in as much or more obedience to him than your self; and keep them in so much awe that they shew no rudeness be∣fore him, or make any noise to his disturbance. Make them shew him all awful regard, and keep them sweet, clean, and decent, that he may de∣light himself in them.

Let him see your love to him in your care for them; educating and bringing them up in the knowledg of Religion, with their Lear∣ning.

Be careful to manage what money he doth trust you with, to his and your own credit; a∣buse not the freedom you have of his purse, by being too lavish; and pinch not the Guts of your Family at home, that you may pamper yours abroad; or throw away that money in

buying trifles, which shall evidence your vanity as well as luxury.

To govern an House is an excellent and pro∣fitable employment; there is nothing more beau∣tiful than an Houshold well and peaceably go∣verned; it is a profession that is not difficult; for she that is not capable of any thing else, may be capable of this.

The principal precepts that belong to the frugal ordering and disposing Houshold-affairs may be compremis'd under these heads.

First to buy and sell all things at the best times and seasons.

Secondly, to take an especial care that the goods in the house be not spoiled by negligence, of servants, or otherwise.

Let me counsel you not only to avoid un∣necessary or immoderate charges, but also with a little cost make a great shew; but above all suffer not your expence to exceed the receipt of your Husbands income. There is a Proverbial saying, That the Masters eye maketh the Horse fat; I am sure the active vigilance of a good and careful Wise is the ready way to enrich a bad Husband.

Of Womens behaviour to their Servants, and what is to be required of them in the house, or what thereunto appertains.

IF by a thorough inspection and experience, you find you have a faithful Servant, give her to understand you are not insensible thereof by your loving carriage, and kind acknowledg∣ment of her fidelity, and frequently find out some occasions to give her some little encouragements to engage her continuance therein; do not dis∣hearten her in her duty, by often finding fault where there is little or none committed, yet be not remiss in reproving where she doth a∣miss.

If you find you have a bad or unfaithful Ser∣vant (as now adays there are too many, more than ever) whom you cannot either by fair means or foul reclaim: Vex not nor fret at what you see is remediless, but first making her tho∣roughly sensible of her errors, give her fair warning to provide for her self, and convenient for your own affairs; and do not (as a great many much to blame) give too ill a character of her, which will raise you little benefit, although it may lay the basis of her utter ruin; but ra∣ther be silent if you cannot speak good, which course I should think was sufficient to work on the greatest stupidity for a future amendment. Though a bad Servant, detain not the wages, nor any part that is justly due, for the Labourer is worthy of his hire.

Be not too passionate with your Servants;

and look narrowly to them, that they wast or lavish nothing, lest thereby you impair your estate, and so purchase the repute of a carelefs and in∣discreet Women.

If you sind that they affect bravery too much, and presume to wear what misbecomes their present condition, rebuke them mildly into a moderation for their future advantage, and the cre∣dit of the Family wherein they are.

Let not the business of the House take them clearly off the service of God, but let them so relieve one the other in their duties, that they may be sometimes hearers of a good Sermon; and do not forget to make enquiry how they improve by what they hear at Church, and in your own house.

Let every Servant, Men and Women have their daily work appointed them, which must be duly exacted, and taken account of, either by your self, or some superior servant constituted by you for that purpose; and let not your con∣stant and painful care of your worldly affairs exclude your greatest concern, the things of Hea∣ven, and therefore appoint certain hours, Mor∣ning and Evening for publick prayers for the Family, and let not any Servant be absent, un∣less some extraordinary occasion hinder.

As near as you can, keep one set and certain time, with good orders observed for the Table, in which be free, yet frugal. Let there be a competent allowance for the Servants, that they may have no just cause to complain; nor so much superfluity as that they may entertain a sort of loose Gossips in corners, the very bane and spoil of Servants.

Invert not the course of Nature (as too many do of late) by converting day into night, and night into day; but keep good hours for your repose, that your Servants may be the better disposed for the next days labour. Observe due times for washing and smoothing up the Lin∣nen quickly, that it may not be thrown up and down, and be mildewed and spoil'd, and so be fit for nothing but the wash again; and forget not to dearn or mend it every week, that it may not run to tatters before it be half worn; and do not suffer any Servant to be idle.

If you have a Dairy, see it be kept clean and neat. Let not the Corn in the Granary muste and spoil for want of skreening and turning.

Let your Servant see that your Beasts and Poultry be fatted in their due season; and that your Stable keep no more Horses than your own.

In the Brew-house, that the first Wort be not drunk up by idle people, and so the small∣ness of your Beer become a disparagement to your Family.

In the Bake-house, that your Dough which should be for the finest Bread at your Table, be not half consumed in making of Cakes. That there be always Bread enough for the Servants before hand, for it is a point of ill Huswifry to eat hot or very new Bread.

In the Kitchin, that there be no Necessaries wanting, nor no wast or spoil made, but that the Meat be salted, and spent in due time.

In the Parlour, let the Fire be made, and the Cloth laid: in due time, that the Cook may

have no excuse for the spoiling of his Meat.

In the Chambers, that every thing be kept cleanly; the Beds often turned, the Furniture often beaten in the Sun, and well brushed.

Every Saturday take an account of every Servants layings out; and once a Month an account of all the expences of the whole House.

In the Buttery and Cellars, that the Butler be careful of not making every idle fellow drunk that comes to the House, and so squander away without credit the Wine, Ale, and Beer.

Now because you will have frequent occasi∣ons for Banquets, in the entertaining of persons of Quality, I think it not unfit for a Gentle-woman to learn the art of Preserving and Can∣dying; of which I shall according to the Pro∣fession I make thereof give you an ample ac∣count or instruction in some Chapters follow∣ing. Frugality will perswade you to learn these cxcellent Arts, for in the constant use of the product thereof, you will save much for Sweet-meats, you will make much cheaper than you can buy them, and more commendable.

Other things you will meet withall worthy of your observation, of which this is no mean one, most requisite and in no wise dishonour∣able; that is, your understanding how to dress Meat as well as eat it, that your Servants may be guided by you, and not you by them.

Gentlewomen, I will appeal to you as per∣sons competent to judg whether the right un∣derstanding of these things be not altogether

requisite and necessary; and as to your diver∣tisements, none carries in it more profit than Cookery; now to the intent I may be instru∣mental to the making up a compleat and ac∣complished Gentlewoman, give me leave here to set you down such A-la-mode instructions, as may perfectly inform you in every thing that belongs to the commendable art of Cookery.

Terms for Carving all sorts of Meat at Table.

BEfore we shall treat of the body of Cookery; I think it fit by way of Prologue or In∣troduction, to acquaint you with those proper terms in Carving, which are used abroad and at home, by the curious students in the art of Carving; take them thus as follows.

In cutting up all manner of small Birds, it is proper to say, Thigh them; as thigh that Wood∣cock, thigh that Pidgeon; but as to others say, Mince that Plover, Wing that Quail, and wing that Patridge, Allay that Pheasant, Untach that. Curlew, Unjoint that Bittern, Disfigure that Pea∣cock, Display that Crane, Dismember that Hern; Unbrace that Mallard, Frust that Chicken, Spoil that Hen, Sauce that Capon, Lift that Swan, Rear that Goose, Tire that Egg. As to the flesh of Beasts, Unlace that Coney, Break that Deer, and Leach that Brawn.

For Fish; Chine that Salmon, String that Lam∣prey, Splat that Pike, Sauce that Plaice, and Sauce that Tench, Splay that Bream, Side that Haddock, Tusk that Barbel, Culpon that Trout; Transon that Eel, Tranch that Sturgeon, Tame that Crab, Barb that Lobster.

Quaint Directions for the Carving all manner of FOWL.

IF you will Lift a Swan, slit her right down in the middle of the Breast, and so clean through the back, from the neck to the rump, and so divide her equally in the middle with∣out tearing the flesh from either part; having laid it in the Dish with the slit-sides down∣wards, let your sawce be Chaldron a part in Sawcers.

You must Rear or Break a Goose roasted, by taking off the Legs very fair; then cut off the Belly-piece round close to the lower end of the Breast; lace her down with your knife clean through the Breast on each side, a thumbs breadth from the Breast-bone; then take off the wings on each side, with the flesh which you first laced, raising it up clear from the bone, then cut up the merry thought, and having cut up another piece of flesh which you formerly laced, then turn your Carkass, and cut it asun∣der the Back-bone, above the Loyn-bones; then take the rump-end of the Back-bone, and lay it at the fore-end of the merry-thought, with the skinny side upward; then lay your Pinions on each side contrary, set your Leggs on each side contrary behind them, that the bone-end of the Legs may stand up cross in the middle of the Dish; and the wing-Pinions on the out∣side of them; put under the wing-Pinions on each side the long slices of flesh which you did cut from the Breast-bone, and let the ends meet under the Leg-bones.

If you would cut up a Turky or Bustard, raise up the Leg very fair, then open the Joint with the point of your sharp Knife, yet take not off the Leg; then lace down the Breast on both sides, and open the Breast-pinion, but take it not off; then raise up the Merry-thought be∣twixt the Breast-bone and the top of the Merry-thought, lace down the flesh on both sides of the Breast-bone, and raise up the flesh called the Brawn, turn it outwards on both sides, but break it not nor cut it off; then cut off the Wing-pinion at the Joint next the Body, and stick on each side the Pinion in the place where you turned out the Brawn, but cut off the sharp end of the Pinion, take the middle piece and that will just fit the place. You may cut up a Capon or Pheasant the same way; but be sure you cut not off the Pinion of your Capon, but in the place where you put the Pinion os the Turky, place there your divided Gizard on each side half.

In the dismembring of an Hern, you must take off both the Legs, and lace it down the Breast; then raise up the flesh, and take it clean off, with the Pinion; then stick the head in the Breast, set the Pinion on the contrary side of the Carcass, and the Leg on the other side, so that the bones ends may meet cross over the Carcass, and the other Wing cross over upon the top of the Carcass.

If you will Unbrace a Mallard, raise up the Pinion and the Leg, but take them not off; raise the Merry-thought from the Breast, and lace it down slopingly, on each side the Breast with your Knife.

Turn the Back downwards, if you unlace a Coney, and cut the Belly-flaps clean off from the Kidneys; then put in the point of your Knife between the Kidneys, and loosen the flesh from each side the bone; then turn up the back of the Rabbat, and cut it cross between the Wings, and lace it down close by the bone on each side; then open the flesh from the bone, against the Kidney, and pull the Leg open soft∣ly with your hand, but pluck it not off; then thrust in your Knife betwixt the Ribs and the Kidney, slit it out, then lay the Legs close to∣gether.

In the allaying of a Pheasant, and winging a Partridge, you must raise their Wings and Legs as if they were Hens.

If you mince your Partridg, sauce him with Wine, powder of Ginger and Salt, and so set him on a Chafing-dish of Coals to keep warm. Use a Quail after the same manner.

Display a Crane thus: unfold his Legs, and cut off his Wings by the Joints; then rake up his Wings and Legs, and sauce them with powder of Ginger, Mustard, Vinegar and Salt: Dismember a Hern in the same manner, and fauce him accordingly; so likewise unjoint a Bittern, but use no sauce, but salt.

I shall now proceed to give you some In∣structions in the art of Cookery; which I shall rank in an Alphabetical order compendiously.

Artichoaks Fried.

Boil your Artichoaks, and sever them from the bottom, then slice and quarter them, having so done, dip them in Butter, and fry them in Butter. For the sauce, take Verjuice, Butter, and Sugar, with the juice of an Orange, lay Mar∣row on them, and having garnisht them with Marrow, serve them up.

Artichoaks Stewed.

Artichoaks being boil'd, take out the core, and take off the leaves, cut the Bottoms into quarters, splitting them in the middle, then put them into your flat stewing-pan, with Manchet∣toasts therein, laying the Artichoaks on them, with an indifferent quantity of Marrow, five or six large Maces, half a pound of preserved Plumbs with the sirrup, Verjuice, and Sugar; let them thus stew two hours, if you stew them in a Dish, stir them not thence, but serve them up in it, laying on some Barberries preserv'd, and such like, so sippet it and serve it up; Instead of preserved Plumbs, you may stew those which are ordinary, and will do near as well, and are much cheaper.

An Almond-Pudding.

Take a pounnd of Almond-paste, some grated Bisket-bread, Cream, Rosewater, yolks of Eggs, beaten Cinnamon, Ginger, Nutmeg, some boiled Currans, Pistaches and Musk, boil it in a Napkin, and serve it in a Dish, with beaten Butter and Sugar scrap'd thereon.

An Almond-Pudding in Guts.

Get a pound of Almonds blanched, beat them very small with Rose-water, and a little

good new Milk, or Cream, with two or three blades of Mace, and some sliced Nutmegs; when it is boiled, take the Spice clean from it, then grate a penny-loaf, and serce it through a Cul∣lender, put it into the Cream, and let it stand till it be pretty cool, then put in the Almonds, five or six yolks of Eggs, Salt, Sugar, and good store of Marrow, or Beef-suet, finely minced, and so fill the Guts.

An Almond-Tart.

Strain beaten Almonds with Cream, yolks of Eggs, Sugar, Cinnamon and Ginger, boil it thick, and fill your Tart therewith.

Almond-Cream.

Take half a pound of Almond-paste, beaten with Rose-water, and strain it with a quart of Cream, put it in a Skillet with a stick of Cin∣namon, and boil it, stir it continually, and when it is boiled thick, put Sugar to it, and serve it up cold.

Apple Cream.

Take a dozen Pippins, or more, pare, slice, or quarter them, put them into a Skillet, with some Claret-wine, and a race of Ginger sliced thin, a little Lemon-peel cut small, and some Sugar; let all these stew together till they be soft, then take them off the fire, and put them into a Dish, and when they be cold, take a quart of boil'd Cream, with a little Nutmeg, and put in os the Apple as much as will thicken it; and so serve it up.

Apricocks green Baked.

When your Apricocks are green, and so ten∣der that you may thrust a pin through the stone,

scald them, and scrape the outside, oft putting them in water as you peel them, till your Tart be ready, then dry them well, and fill your Tart with them, and lay on good store of fine Sugar, close it up and bake it, ice it, scrape on Sugar, and serve it up.

Barley-Broth.

Boil the Barley first in two waters, having first pickt it well, then join it with a knuckle of Veal, and seeth them together, to the Broth add Raisins, sweet herbs, large Mace, and the quantity of a fine Manchet sliced together, then season it with salt.

BISK.

There are divers ways to make a Bisk, but the best is this; Take a Leg of Beef, and knuckle of Veal, boil them in two Gallons of fair water, scum them clean, and put to them some Cloves and Mace, then boil them from two Gallons to three quarts of broth; being boiled, strain it thin, put it into a Pipkin; when it is cold take off the fat and bottom, and put it into a clean Pipkin, and keep it warm till the Bisk be ready; boil the Fowl in the liquor of the Marrow-bones of half a douzen peeping Chickens, and as many peeping Pidge∣ons in a clean Pipkin.

Then have pallats, noses and lips, boil'd ten∣der, blanch'd and cut into pieces as big as a six∣pence; also some Sheeps-tongues boil'd, blanch'd, larded, fried, and stewed in gravy, with some Chesnuts blanched; also some Cocks combs boiled

and blanched, with some yolks of hard Eggs. Stew all the aforesaid in some roast Mutton, or Beef-gravy, with some Pistaches, large Mace, a good big Onion or two, and salt. Then take Lamb-stones blanch'd and slic'd, also sweet-breads of Veal and sweet-breads of Lamb slit, some great Oysters parboil'd, and some Cock-stones: Fry the aforesaid Materials in clarified Butter, some fried Spinnage, or Alexander-leaves, and keep them warm in an Oven, with some fried Sausages made of minced Bacon, Veal, yolks of Eggs, Nutmegs, sweet Herbs, Salt, and Pista∣ches; bake it in an Oven in cauls of Veal; and being baked and cold, slice it round, fry it, and keep it warm in the Oven, with the afore∣said baked things. Having prepared all these things in readiness, take a great eight pound Dish, and a six-penny French loaf, chip it and slice it into large slices, and cover all the bottom of the Dish, then steep it well with your strong broth, and upon that some Beef-gravy; then dish up the Fowl on the Dish, and round about it the fried Tongues, with the Lips, Pallats, Pesta∣ches, Eggs, Noses, Chesnuts, and Cocks-combs, and run them over the Fowls with some of the gravy, and large Mace. Then again run it over with fried Sweet-breads, Sausages, Lamb-stones, Cock-stones, fried Spinnage, and the Marrow over all; next the carved Lemons on the Meat, and run it over with the beaten Butter, yolks of Eggs and gravy beaten up till it be thick; lastly, garnish the Dish with little Pyes, Dol∣phins of puff-paste, Chesnuts, boil'd and fried Oisters, and yolks of hard Eggs.

Gentlewomen, I must crave your pardon, since I know I have tired your patience in the de∣scription of a Dish, which though it be frequent∣ly used in Noblemens houses, and with all this cost and trouble put together by some rare whimsical French Cook, yet I cannot approve of it, but must call it a Miscellaneous hodg-podg of studied vanity; and I have here inserted it not for your imitation, but admiration.

Beef hashed.

In the making of a Hash of Beef, take some of the Buttock and mince it very small with some Beef-suet, or lard, and some sweet herbs, some beaten Cloves and Mace, Pepper, Nutmeg, and a whole Onion or two, stew altogether in a Pip∣kin, with some blanched Chesnuts, strong broth, and a little Claret; let it stew softly for the space of three hours, that it may be very tender, then blow off the fat, dish it, and serve it on sippets, you may garnish it with Barberries, Grapes, or Gooseberries.

Beef A-la-mode.

Cut some Buttock-beef a quarter of an inch thick, and lard it with Bacon, having hackt it before a little with the back of your Knise, then stew it in a Pipkin with some gravy, Clarot∣wine, and strong Broth, Cloves, Mace, Pepper, Cinnamon and Salt; being tender stewed, serve it on French bread sippets.

Beef Carbonadoed.

Steep your Beef in Claret-wine, Salt, Pepper,

and Nutmeg, then broil it on the Embers over a temperate and unsmoaky fire, in the mean while boil up the liquor wherein it was steeped, and serve it for sauce, with beaten Butter.

Beef baked, red-Deer-fashion, in Pies or Pasties, either Surloine, Brisket, Buttock or Fillet, larded or not.

Let your Surloine be boned, and take off the great sinue that lies on the back, lard the leanest parts of it with great lard, being season'd with Nutmeg, Pepper, four ounces of each, two oun∣ces of Ginger, and a pound of Salt, which sea∣soning you must put into the Pye; but first lay a bed of good sweet Butter, and a bay-leaf or two, half an ounce of whole Cloves, lay on your Beef, then put on the rest of the seasoning, and a few more Cloves, good store of Butter, and a Bay-leaf or two, close it up and bake it, it will require eight hours soaking; if you will eat it hot, half the seasoning will serve, and then let your paste be fine, otherwise course.

To this quantity of flesh you must have three Gallons of fine flower heapt measure. But the best way to bake red Deer is in course paste, either Pye, or Pasty; if Rye-meal, it will keep long, otherwise you may make it of Meal, as it comes from the Mill, using only boiling-water, without any other stuff.

Beef Collar'd.

In the right making of a Collar of Beef you must take the flank and lay it in Pump-water two or three days, shift it twice a day, then

take it out, and dry it very well with clean Clothes, cut it in three layers, and take out the bones and most of the fat; then take three hand∣fuls of Salt, and good store of sweet Herbs chop∣ped very small, mingle them, and stew them be∣twixt the three layers, and lay them one upon another; then take an ounce of Cloves and Mace, and another of Nutmegs, and beat them well, and strew it between the layers of Beef, rowl it up close together, then lay some splices about it, and with pack-thread tye it up very close and hard, put it in a long Earthen-pot, which are made on purpose for that use, tying up the top of the pot with cap-paper; set it in∣to the Oven, let it stand eight hours, draw it, and taking it out of the pot, hang it up for use.

Brawn, how to make a Collar.

Take a fat Brawn of two or three years growth, and bone the sides, cut off the head close to the ears, and cut five Collars of a side, bone the hinder leg, or else five will not be deep enough; cut the Collars an inch deeper on the belly then on the back, because the belly will shrink more in the boiling; make your Collars very even before you bind them up, not big at one end, and small at the other, but fill them equally, and lay them a soaking in fair water, be sure that they be watered two days before you bind them up, shift and scrape them twice a day in that time, then bind them up with white tape; having your Boiler ready with the water boiling, put in your Collars of the biggest bulk first, a

quarter of an hour before those which are less. Boil them an hour with a quick fire, keeping the Boiler continually filled up with warm clean liquor, and scum the fat clean off as it riseth. After an hour, let it boil still, but more leisurely; being fine and tender boiled, so that you may thrust a straw through it, draw your fire, and let your Brawn remain till the next morning; be∣tween hot and cold put your Brawn into moulds of deep hoops, and bind them about with pack∣thread; when cold take them out and put them into souce made of boil'd Oatmeal ground or beaten, and bran boil'd in fair water, which you must strain through a Cullender when it is cold, into that thing you intend to lay your Brawn; then put salt thereunto, and close up the mouth of the Vessel from the Air. When you use it, dish it up with a sprig of Rosemary on the top, dipt in the white of an Egg well beaten to froth, sprinkled with flower, or with a straight sprig of Ew-tree.

Brawn made of a Sucking-Pig, otherwise called souced Pig.

Chuse not a spotted Pig for handsomeness∣sake, but one that is white; scald him, and cut off his head, parting him down the back, draw and bone him, the sides being thorowly cleansed from the blood, and soaked in several clean wa∣ters, dry the sides thereof, season them with Nutmeg, Ginger and Salt, rowl them, and put them up in clean Clothes; then take as much water as will cover it in the boiling-pan two inches over and above, and add two quarts of

White-wine thereunto. When the liquor boils, put in your Collars, with Salt, Mace, sliced Ginger, Parsley-roots, and Fennel-roots scraped and picked; being half boil'd, put in a quart of White-wine more, being quite boil'd, put in slices of Lemon to it with the whole peel. Having souc'd it two or three days, dish it out on plates with Vinegar; or serve it in Collars with Mu∣stard and Sugar.

A Calves-head roasted.

Take the Head, and cleave it, and remove from thence the Brains, purge it well from the blood, then steep the Head in fair water warm five hours, in that time shift it twice or thrice, the last time clense the head; then boil the Brains, and with it make a Pudding with some grated Bread, Beef-suet, and some Veal minced small to∣gether, with some Sage; let the Pudding be sea∣soned with Cloves, Mace, Salt, Ginger, Sugar, five yolks of Eggs and Saffron; fill the Head with this Pudding, then close it up, and bind it fast with pack-thread, spit it, and bind on the Caul with some of the Pudding round about it; as it roasts save the gravy; but when you use it for the sauce, blow off the fat, and add there∣unto a little White-wine, a Nutmeg sliced, the juice of an Orange, Salt, and Sugar, and a piece of sweet Butter; before you take up the head, dredg it with grated Bread, beaten Cinnamon, minced Lemmon-peel with a little Salt.

Calves-foot Pye, or Neats-foot Pye.

Take two pair of Calves-feet, boil them tender

and blanch them; being cold bone them, and mince them very small, and season them with Pepper, Nutmeg, Cinnamon, a little Ginger and Salt, and a pound of Currans, a quarter of a pound of Dates sliced, a quarter of a pound of fine Sugar, with a little Rose-water, and Verjuice, stir all together in a Dish or Tray, laying a little Butter in the bottom of the Pye; then lay on half the meat in the Pye; take then the Marrow of three Marrow-bones, and lay that on the meat in the Pye, and the other half of the meat on the Marrow, and stick some Dates on the top of the meat, so close up the Pye and bake it; being half baked, liquor it with Butter, White-wine or Verjuice, and ice it with Butter, Rosewater and Sugar, then set it in the Oven again till it be iced.

Capons Souced.

Take a good young fat Capon, finely pulled, drawn, and trussed, lay it in soak two or three hours, with a Knuckle of Veal well jointed, and after set them a boiling in a deep Brass-pan, or large Pipkin in a gallon of fair water, when it boils, scum it, and put in four or five blades of Mace, two or three races of Ginger sliced, some Fennel and Parsley roots scraped and pickt, season all with Salt. The Capon being tenderly boiled, take it up, and when almost cold put it to your souced broth which you must boil with a quart of White-wine to a Jelly, putting this liquor into a convenient Vessel, place your Capon therein, with two or three sliced Lemmons, cover it close and serve it at your pleasure, garnishing your

Dish with slices of Lemmon, Barberries, and some of the Jelly.

Calves-Chaldron-Mince-Pyes.

Let your Chaldrons or Muggets be boiled tender, and being cold mince them small, with Beef-suet, or interlarded Bacon, some volks of hard Eggs, Veal, Mutton, and Lamb cut small, season it with Cloves, Mace, Nutmeg, Pepper, a little Onion, and minced Lemon-peel, with salt, and Juice of an Orange; then lay on some sli∣ces of interlarden Bacon and Butter, close it up and bake it; and when you draw it, liquor it with White-wine beaten with Butter.

Capon or Chicken in white Broth.

First boil the Capon in water and salt, then take three pints of strong broth, and a quart of White∣wine, and stew it in a Pipkin, with a quarter of a pound of Dates, half a pound of fine Sugar, four or five blades of large Mace, the Marrow of three Marrow-bones, an handful of white En∣dive; stew them very leisurely; having so done, strain the yolks of ten Eggs with some of the Broth. Before you dish up the Capon or Chic∣kens, put the Eggs into the Broth, and keep it stirring that it may not curdle, and let it be but a little while on the fire; the Fowls being dished up, put on the Broth, and garnish the Dish with Dates, large Mace, Endive, preserved Barberries. You may make a Lere of Almond-paste, and Grape-verjuice.

Chicken-Pye.

Truss the Chickens, then season them leightly

with Pepper, Salt and Nutmeg, lay them in the Pye, and lay on them some sliced Dates, with the Marrow of two or three Marrow-bones, some large Mace, a quarter of a pound of Eringo∣roots, some Grapes or Barberries, with Butter, close it up and put it into the Oven; being half baked, liquor it with a Cawdle made of a Pint of White-wine or Verjuice, the yolks of five or six Eggs, with Sugar and Butter, shake liquor well in it, which you may colour green with the juice of Spinnage: It is proper to ice these Pyes; or scrape Sugar on them.

Clouted Cream.

Take a gallon of new Milk from the Cow, two quarts of Cream, and twelve spoonfuls of Rosewater, put these together in a large Milk∣pan, and set it upon a fire of Charcole well kindled, (be sure the fire be not too hot) and let it stand a day and a night, then take it off and dish it with a slice or scummer, let no Milk be in it, lay it in a Cream-dish, with Sugar scraped there∣on, and so serve it up.

Cabbedg-Cream.

Set over the fire six quarts of new Milk, and when it boils, pour it out into half a score of Earthen-pans or bowls, as fast as you can without frothing, set them apart, and when they are a little cold, gather the Cream that is on the top with your hand, rumpling it together, and lay it on a flat dish; when you have laid three or four layers one on the other, wet a feather in Rosewater and Musk, and stroke over it, then

searse a little grated Nutmeg, and fine Sugar, then lay three or four lays more on, as before, thus doing till you have all the Cream in the bowl, and then put all the Milk together and boil it again; and when it boils, do with it as you did before; it will yield thus four or five times see∣thing, with which you must do as before, that it may lie round and high like a Cabbedg. You will do well to let one of the first Bowls to stand till last, that the Cream may be thick and crum∣pled, and that use for the uppermost lay, and so scrape Sugar in it. This must be made over∣night for Dinner, and in the morning for Supper.

Carp Stewed.

Dress the Carp and take out the Milt, put it in a Dish with the Carp, take out the Gall, then save the blood, and scotch with your knife the back of the Carp. If the Carp be large, take a quart of Claret, or White-wine, four or five blades of large Mace, ten Cloves, two large races of Ginger sliced, two sliced Nutmegs, with the tops of Time, Marjoram, Savory, and Par∣sley chopped very small, four great Onions whole, three or four Bay-leaves, and some Salt; Stew them all together with the Wine when the li∣quor boils: put in the Carp, with a quarter of a pound of sweet Butter; being stew'd enough, take a large Dish, and laying the Carp therein, pour the Sawce thereon with the Spices; lay on sliced Lemon, with some of the peel cut small, and run it over with beaten Butter; Garnish the Dish with Manchet grated and searsed, and

carved sippets laid round the Dish. You may, for variety, the Carp being scaled, garnish the body with stewed Oisters, some fried in white Butter, some in green, made by the juice of Spinnage.

Carp Marinated.

Take a Carp, fcale it, and scrape off the slime, wipe it clean with a dry Cloth, and split it down the back, flowre it, and fry it in sweet Sallet∣oyl, or clarified Butter; being fried crisp, lay it in a deep Dish, or Earthen-pan, then take some white Claret-wine, white-wine-Vinegar, and put it into a broad mouth'd Pipkin, with Rosemary, Time, sweet Marjoram, Parsley, Winter-Savory, Bay-leaves, Sorrel and Sage, a like quantity of each, with some large Mace, sliced Ginger, gross Pepper, sliced Nutmeg, whole Cloves and Salt, with as much Wine and Vinegar as will cover the Fish; boil all these together a little while, and then pour it on the Fish hot, and cover it close to detain the spirits from evaporating for an hours, space, and then lay on your Lemon with Orange-peel. Thus you may marinate Soles, Plaice, or any other, whether Sea or fresh-water Fish; if you barrel or pack it up close, it will be as good, and keep as long as Sturgeon.

Carp roasted.

Take a live Carp, draw and wash it, taking away the Gall, Milt or Spawn; then make a Pudding with some grated Manchet, some Al∣mond-paste, Cream, Currans, grated Nutmeg, raw yolks of Eggs, Sugar, Carraway-seed can∣died,

some Salt and Lemon; make a stiff Pud∣ding, and put it through the Gills into the belly of the Carp; then spit it, and when it is roasted, make Sauce with the Gravy that falls from it, with juice of Orange, Sugar and Cinamon; beat up the Sauce thick with the Butter, and dish it up.

Deer, Red and Fallow, roasted.

Take a side or half Haunch, and parboil it; then farce or stuff it with all manner of sweet Herbs minced with Beef-suet; lay the Cawl over, and so roast it; when ready, dish it up with a Gallendine-sauce made with strained Bread, Vine∣gar, Claret-wine, Cinamon, Ginger and Sugar, boil up these with a few whole Cloves, and a sprig of Rosemary.

Deer Baked.

Take a side of Venison, bone and lard it with great lards as big as your little finger, and sea∣son it with two ounces of Pepper, two ounces of Nutmeg, and four ounces of Salt, then make your Pye, and lay some Butter in the bottom thereof, then lay in your flesh the inside down∣ward, coat it thick with seasoning, adding a few Cloves and good store of Butter, so close it up and bake it, first basting it with Eggs.

Egg-Mince-Pye.

Boil your Eggs hard, then mince and mix them with Cinamon, Currans, Carraway-seed, Sugar and Dates, minced Lemon-peel, Verjuice, Rosewater, Butter and Salt, with these fill your

Pyes; when baked, liquor them with Butter, White-wine, Sugar, and ice them.

Florentines on Paste, or without Paste.

Take a Leg of Mutton or Veal, shave it into thin slices, and mingle it with some sweet Herbs, as sweet Marjoram, Time, Savory, Parsley and Rosemary; being minced very small, a Clove of Garlick, some beaten Nutmeg, Pepper, a minced Onion, some grated Manchet, and three or four yolks of raw Eggs, mix all together with a little Salt, some thin slices of interlarded Bacon, lay the Meat round the Dish, on a sheet of Paste, or in the Dish without Paste; being baked, stick Bay∣leaves round the Dish.

Flowers of all sorts Pickled.

Put them into a Gally-pot, or Glass, with as much Sugar as they weigh, fill them up with Wine-Vinegar. To a pint of Vinegar a pound of Sugar, and a pound of Flowers: so keep them for Sallets and boil'd Meats.

Grapes and Goosberries Pickled.

Pick them and put them in Verjuice, and so barrel them up.

Geese Boiled.

Take them being powder'd, and fill their bel∣lies with Oatmeal, being first steeped in warm Milk, then mingle it with some Beef-suet, min∣ced Onions and Apples, season'd with Cloves, Mace, some sweet Herbs minced, and Pepper, fasten the neck and vent, boil them, and serve

them with Brewis, and Colliflowers or Cabbedg, running it over with beaten Butter; thus you may dress any sort of Sea-fowl.

Hashes several ways.

First, of raw Beef, mince it very small with Beef∣suet or Lard, some sweet-Herbs, Pepper, Salt, some Cloves and Mace, Chesnuts or Almonds blanch'd, put in whole, some Nutmeg, and a whole Onion or two, and stew it in a Pipkin with some strong broth two hours, put a little Claret to it, and serve it on Sippets, blowing off the fat; and garnish it with Lemon or Barberries.

Otherways.

Cut your Beef, fat and lean, into Gobbets, as big as a Pullets Egg, and put them into a pot or Pip∣kin with some Carrots cut into pieces as big as a Walnut, some whole Onions, some Parsnips, large Mace, a faggot of sweet Herbs, Salt, Pepper, Cloves, with as much water and wine as will co∣ver them, let them thus stew three hours.

Hashes of Neats-feet, or any feet, as Calves, Sheep, Deer, Hogs, Pigs or Lambs.

Boil them very tender, and being cold, mince them small, then put Currans to them, beaten Cinamon, hard Eggs minc'd, Capers, sweet Herbs minced small, Cloves, Mace, Sugar, White∣wine, Butter, sliced Lemon or Orange, sliced Al∣monds, grated Bread, Saffron, Grapes, or Bar∣berries, so serve them on fine carved Sippets.

Hashing of any Feet.

Mince them small, and stew them with White∣wine,

Butter, Currans, Raisins, Marrow, Sugar, Prunes, Dates, Cinamon, Mace, Ginger, Pep∣per, and serve them on toasts of fried Manchet.

Hares roasted without and with the Skin.

Take an Hare and flay him, then lard him with small lard, stick him with Cloves, and make a Pudding in his belly, with grated Bread, grated Nutmeg, Cinamon beaten, Salt, Currans, Eggs, Cream and Sugar; having made it stiff, fill the belly of the Hare and so roast it. If you will have your Pudding green, colour it with Spinage; if yellow, with Saffron. Let the Sauce be made of beaten Cinamon, Nutmeg, Ginger, Pepper, Prunes, Currans, a little grated Bread, Sugar and Cloves, all boiled up as thick as Water∣gruel.

If you roast an Hare with the Skin on, draw out the Bowels, and make a farsing, or stuffing of all manner of sweet Herbs minced very small, then roul them in some Butter, and make a ball thereof, put it into the belly, and prick it up close, baste it with butter, and being almost roasted, flay off the Skin, and stick on some Cloves on the Body, bread it with fine grated Manchet, Flower and Cinamon, froth it up, and dish it on Sawce, made of grated Bread, Claret-wine, Wine∣vinegar, Cinamon, Ginger, and Sugar, being boiled up to an indifferency.

Ipocras.

To make good Ipocras, you must take a gal∣lon of Wine, three ounces of Cinamon, two oun∣ces of sliced Ginger, an ounce of Nutmegs, a

quarter of an ounce of Cloves, twenty corns of Pepper, an handful of Rosemary-Flowers, three pounds of Sugar, and two quarts of Cream.

Jellies of several colours for all sorts of Soust Meats, and to be eaten alone.

Take four pair of Calves-feet, a knuckle of Veal, a good fleshy Capon, take out the bones and fat, and cast them into fair water, shift them three or four times in a day and night, then boil them in three gallons of fair water till six quarts be wasted, then strain it into an earthen pan, let it cool, then take off the fat a top, and pare the bottom; then dissolve it again in broth, and divide it into four equal parts, every part in a particular Vessel; put a little Saffron into one of them, into another Cutcheneel, into a third Turn∣sole, let the last alone to its own natural white∣ness; let each Vessel have a quart of White-wine, and the juice of two Lemons. To the white Jelly add one race of Ginger pared and sliced, and three blades of large Mace. To the red Jelly two Nutmegs, and the like quantity of Ci∣namon and Ginger. To the yellow or Amber∣colour the same spices, and the like quantity; and to the Turnsole the same with a few Cloves. Then take eighteen whites of Eggs, and beat them with six pound of double refined Sugar, beaten small and stirred together in a Tray, or great Bason; with a rowling pin, divide it equally into four parts, and distribute one to each Vessel, being well mixed with Wine, and a little Musk, or Ambergriece, stir it about with your Jelly. Then set on your Jelly again on a fine Char∣cole

fire, and let it stew near an hour, then make it boil up a little, so take it off; being somewhat cold, strain it, and so let it stand for your use, casting it into what mould you please.

Land or Sea-fowl, how to boil them.

Half roast the Fowls, sticking on them some Cloves as they roast, save the Gravy, and when they are half roasted, put them into a Pipkin with the Gravy, some Claret-wine, as much strong broth as will cover them, Mace, Cloves, Pepper, Ginger, some fried Onions and Salt; stew all well together and serve them on carved sippets.

Land-Fowl, the smaller sort, how to boil, as Plovers, Quails, Blackbirds, Rails, Thrushes, Snites, Wheat-ears, Larks and Sparrows.

Take them and truss them, or cut off the Heads and Legs, and boil them, scum your Pip∣kin, and put therein large Mace, White-wine, Currans well pickt and washt, Dates, Marrow, Pepper and Salt; being well stewed, dish them on carved Sippets; thicken the broth with strai∣ned Almonds, Rosewater, and Sugar; garnish them with Lemon, Barberries and grated bread.

Marrow-Pudding in a Dish baked, garnished with Puff-paste.

Take the Marrow of four Marrow-bones, two French breads, half a pound of Raisins of the Sun ready boiled and cold, Cinamon a quarter of an ounce beaten, two grated Nutmegs, a quarter of a pound of Sugar, the like of Dates, Sack half a pint, Rosewater a quarter of a pint,

ten Eggs, two grains of Amber-griece. Now take a deep large dish, and lay a lay of sliced French-bread therein, and strew it with Cinamon, Nutmeg, and Sugar, mingled together, also sprin∣kle the slices of bread with Sack and Rosewater, and then some Raisins of the Sun, sliced Dates, and good big pieces of Marrow, and thus make two or three lays of the aforesaid ingredients, with most Marrow on the top; then take two quarts of Cream, and strain it with half a quar∣ter of fine Sugar, with about a spoonful of Salt, and twelve Eggs, six of the whites taken away, then set the Dish into the Oven, temperate, and not too hot, and bake it very white, then strew some Sugar on, and so serve it.

Mutton hashed the French way.

Take a Shoulder of Mutton, and roast it three quarters and save the Gravy; slice the one half and mince the other, and put it into a Pipkin, with the Shoulder-blade, put to it some strong broth of Mutton or Beef-gravy, large Mace, some Pepper, Salt, a big Onion or two, a faggot of sweet Herbs, and a pint of White-wine; stew them all together close covered, then take away the fat, and put some Oyster-liquor thereunto; add also three pints of great Oysters parboiled in their own liquor; these Materials being well stewed down, dish up your meat, pouring your liquor thereon, and uppermost lay your stewed Oysters, with sliced Lemon and fine carved sippets.

Marinated Mullet, Bace, Gurnet, or Rochet.

Take a gallon of White-wine-Vinegar, a quart

of fair water, a good handful of Bay-leaves, as much Rosemary, and a quarter of a pound of beaten Pepper, put these together, and let them boil softly, season it with Salt, then fry your Fish in the best Sallet-oyl; this done, put the Fish in an earthen Vessel or Barrel, lay the Bay-leaves and Rosemary between every layer of the Fish, and pour the broth upon it; when it is cold, close up the Vessel.

Mallets Fried.

Scale, draw, and scotch them, after washing wipe them dry, and flowre them, fry them in Clarified Butter; being fried, put to them some Claret-wine, sliced Ginger, grated Nutmeg, an Anchove, Salt, and sweet Butter beaten up thick, but first rub the dish with a Clove of Garlick: Chuse the least Mullets to fry.

Mullets or Bace baked.

Scale, garbedg, wash and dry the Bace or Mul∣let very well, lard it with Salt-Eel, season it and make a Pudding for it of grated Bread, sweet Herbs, and fresh Eel minced, put also the yolks of hard Eggs, Anchove washt and minced very small, some Nutmeg and Salt, fill the belly here∣with, or cut it into quarters, and season them with Nutmeg, Ginger and Pepper, lay them in your Pye, and make Balls, and lay them on the pieces of Mullet, then put on some Capers, Prawns, or Cockles, yolks of Eggs minced, Butter, large Mace, and Barberries, close it up; being baked, cut it up and fill it with beaten Butter, and gar∣nish it with sliced Lemon. This is a very good way for Tench or Bream.

Mushrooms Fried.

Blanch them and wash them clean; if they be large, quarter them, and boil them with Salt, Vinegar, and Water, sweet Herbs, large Mace, Cloves, Bay-leaves, and two or three Cloves of Garlick, then take them up, dry them, dip them in butter, and fry them in Clarified butter, till they be brown; make your sauce for them of Claret-wine, the juice of two or three Oranges, Salt, butter the juice of Horse-raddish-root beaten and strain'd, sliced Nutmeg and Pepper, put these into a Frying-pan, with the yolks of two or three Eggs, with some Mutton-gravy, beat or shake them well together in the Pan, that they curdle not, then rub a dish with Garlick, and lay the Mushrooms therein garnisht with Oranges and Lemons.

Mushrooms stewed.

Take them fresh gathered, and cut off the end of the stalk; and as you peel them, put them in a dish with White-wine; after they have layn half an hour, drain them from the Wine, and put them between two Dishes, and set them on a soft fire without any liquor, and when they have stewed a while, pour away the liquor that proceeded from them, then put to your Mush∣rooms a sprig of Time, a whole Onion, four or five corns of whole Pepper, two or three Cloves, a piece of an Orange, a little Salt, and some sweet butter, with some pure gravy of Mutton; cover them and set them on a gentle fire, so let them stew softly till they are enough and very tender; when you dish them, blow off the fat

from them, and take out the Time, the Spice, and Orange, then wring in the juice of a Lemon, and strew some Nutmeg thereon.

Neats-Tongues boiled.

Salt a Tongue twelve hours, or boil it in water and salt till it be tender, blanch it, serve it on carved Sippets and Brewis, with boiled Turnips and Onions, run it over with beaten Butter, and garnish it with Barberries or Grapes.

Neats-tongues Stewed.

Take a Tongue and put it a stewing between two Dishes, being raw and fresh, put some strong broth and White-wine to it, with some whole Cloves, Mace, and whole Pepper, some Capers, Salt, with Roots, as Carrots or Turnips, and stew them all together leisurely the space of two hours or more, then blanch it, and put some Marrow to it, give it a walm or two, then serve it on Sippets finely carved, and strew on some mined Lemon, Barberries or Grapes, and run it over with beaten Butter: Garnish your Dish with Manchets finely searsed.

Neats-tongues, an excellent way how to dry them.

Take Salt beaten very fine, and salt-Peter, of each a like quantity, rub your Tongues very well with the Salts, and cover them all over with it; and as it wasts, supply them with more, then roul them in Bran, and dry them before a soft fire; before you boil them, lay them in Pump-water one night, and boil them in Pump-water.

Neats-tongues roasted.

Take a Neats-tongue tenderly boiled, blanched, and cold, cut a hole in the butt-end, and mince the meat that you take out, then put some sweet Herbs finely minced to it, with a minced Pip∣pin or two, the yolks of Eggs sliced, some minced Beef-suet, beaten Ginger and Salt, fill the Tongue and stop the end with a Caul of Veal, lard it and roast it, make your Sawce with Butter, Nutmeg, Gravy, and juice of Oranges: Garnish the Dish with sliced Lemon and Bar∣berries.

Neats-tongue-Minc'd-Pye.

Take a fresh Neats-tongue, boil, blanch, and mince it, then mince four pound of Beef-suet by it self, mingle them together, and season them with an ounce of Cloves and Mace beaten, some Salt, half an Orange preserved, and a little Le∣mon-peel, shred with a quarter of a pound of Sugar, four pound of Currans, a little Verjuice and Rosewater and a quarter of a pint of Sack, stir all together, and fill your Pyes.

A Norfolk-Fool.

Take a quart of thick sweet Cream, and set it a boiling in a clear scoured Skillet, with some large Mace, and whole Cinamon; having boiled a little while, take the yolks of five or six Eggs beaten well, and put to it; being off, the fire take out the Cinamon and Mace; the Cream being pretty thick, slice a fine Manchet into thin slices as many as will cover the bottom of the Dish, and then pour on the Cream; trim the Dish

with carved Sippets, and stick it with sliced Dates, and scrape Sugar all over it.

Oysters Stewed.

Take a pottle of large Oysters, parboil them in their own liquor, then wash them from the dregs in warm water, and put them in a Pip∣kin, with a good big Onion or two, and five or six blades of large Mace, a little whole Pep∣per, a sliced Nutmeg, a quarter of a pint of White-wine, as much Wine-vinegar, a quarter of a pound of sweet Butter, with a little Salt, stew them together on a soft fire the space of half an hour, then dish them on Sippets of French-bread, sliced Lemon on that, and Barber∣ries, then run them over with beaten Butter; and garnish the dish with grated Manchet searsed.

Oysters Fried.

Strain the liquor from them, and parboil them in a Kettle, then dry and roul them in Flower, or make a batter with Eggs, Flower, a little Cream and Salt, dip them therein, and fry them in Butter. For the Sawce, boil the juice of three or four Oranges, some of their own liquor, a sliced Nutmeg and Claret; being boiled a little, put in a slice of Butter, beating it up thick; having warm'd the Dish, rub it with some Gar∣lick, and lay therein the Oysters; garnishing the Dish with slices of Orange.

Oyster-Pyes.

Parboil your Oysters in their own liquor,

then take them out and wash them in warm wa∣ter, dry them, and season them with Pepper, Nut∣meg, yolks of hard Eggs and Salt; the Pye be∣ing made, put a few Currans in the bottom, and lay on the Oysters with some sliced Dates in halfs, some large Mace, sliced Lemon, Barberries and Butter, close it up, and bake it, then liquor it with White-wine, Sugar, and Butter.

Otherways.

Take a pottle of Oysters, being parboiled in their own liquor, beard and dry them, then sea∣son them with large Mace, whole Pepper, a little beaten Ginger, Salt, Butter, and Marrow, then close and bake it; then make a Lear with White∣wine, Oyster-liquor, and one Onion; boil these with a pound of Butter, minced Lemon, and a faggot of sweet herbs, and liquor the Pye there∣with.

Oysters Pickled.

Take eight quarts of Oysters, and parboil them in their own liquor, then take them out and cleanse them in warm water, then wipe them dry; then take the liquor they were parboiled in, and clear it from the grounds into a large Pipkin, or Skillet, put to it a pottle of good White-wine, a quart of Wine-Vinegar, some large Mace, whole Pepper, and a good quantity of Salt, set it over the fire and boil it leisurely, scum it clean, and being well boiled, put the liquor into Barrels, that will hold a quart or more, and when it is cold, put in the Oysters, and close up the head.

Ox-cheeks baked in a Pye.

Being first cleansed from the slime, filth and blood, cut them in pieces, take out the bones, and season them with Pepper, Salt, and Nutmeg, then put them in a Pye with a few whole Cloves, a little seasoning, slices of Butter and Bacon over all; bake them very tender, and liquor them with Butter and Claret-wine.

A Calves-head Pye.

Take a Calves-head, soak it well, and take out the brains, boil the head, and take out the bones; being cold, stuff it with sweet Herbs and hard Eggs chopped small, minced Bacon, and a raw Egg or two, Nutmeg, Pepper, and Salt; and lay in the bottom of the Pye minced Veal raw, and Bacon; then lay the Cheeks on it in the Pye, and sliced Bacon on that, then Spices, Butter and Grapes, or a Lemon, then close it up, bake it, and liquor it with butter only.

Puff-paste, the best way how to make it.

Take a pottle of Flower, mix it with cold water, half a pound of Butter, and the whites of five Eggs, work these together very well and stiff, then roul it out very thin, and put Flower under it and over it, then take near a pound of butter, and lay it in bits all over it, then double it in five or six doubles; this being done, roul it out the second time, and serve it as at the first, then roul it out and cut it into what form you please, and for what use, you need not fear the curle, for it will divide as often as you have doub∣led, ten or twelve times is enough for any use.

Panado's.

Boil fair water in a Skillet, put to it grated bread or cakes, good store of Currans, Mace, and whole Cinamon; being almost boil'd, and indif∣ferent thick, put in some Sack or White-wine, Sugar, and some strained yolks of Eggs. Other∣ways, with sliced Bread, Water, Currans, and Mace; and being well boiled, put to it some Sugar, White-wine, and Butter.

Posset of Sack, Claret, or White-wine, the best manner.

Take twenty yolks of Eggs, with a little Cream, strain them, and set them by; then have a clean scoured Skillet, and put into it a pottle of sweet Cream, and a good quantity of whole Cinamon; set it a boiling on a soft Charcolc∣fire, and stir it continually; the Cream having a good taste of the Cinamon, put in the strain∣ed Eggs and Cream into your Skillet, stir them together, and give them a walm, then have in readiness some Sack or other Wine in a deep Bason, or Posset-cup, good store of fine Sugar, and some sliced Nutmeg; the Sack and Sugar being warm, take out the Cinamon, and pour your Eggs and Cream very high into the Ba∣son, that it may spatter in it; then strew on Loaf-sugar.

Pumpion-Pye.

Take a pound of Pumpion, and slice; it an handful of Time, a little Rosemary, sweet Mar∣joram stripped off the stalks, chop them small; then take Cinamon, Nutmeg, Pepper, and a

few Cloves, all beaten; also ten Eggs, and beat them all together, with as much Sugar as you shall think sufficient; then fry them like a Froise; and being fried, let them stand till they are cold: then fill your Pye after this manner: Take Apples sliced thin round ways, and lay a layer of the Froise, and another of the Apples, with Currans betwixt the layers; be sure you put in good store of sweet Butter before you close it. When the Pye is baked, take six yolks of Eggs, some White-wine or Verjuice, and make a Caudle thereof, but not too thick; cut up the lid and put it in, and stir them well together whilst the Eggs and Pumpions are not perceived, and so serve it up.

Pig roasted with the Hair on.

Take a Pig, and draw out his Entrails, Li∣ver and Lights, draw him very clean at vent, and wipe him, cut off his Legs and truss him, and prick up the Belly close, Spit it, and lay it to the fire; have a care of scorching it; when it is a quarter roasted, the skin will rise up in blisters from the flesh, then with your hands or knife, pull off the skin and hair; being cleanly flay'd, cut slashes down to the bones, baste it with Butter or Cream, then bread it with grated white-bread, Currans, Sugar and Salt, all toge∣ther, and thus baste it and dredg till it the Body be covered an inch thick, then the Pig being throughly roasted, draw it and serve it up whole, with Sauce made of Wine-Vinegar, whole Cloves, whole Cinamon, and Sugar boiled to a Syr∣rup.

Pidgeons boiled.

Being trussed, put them into a Pipkin or Skil∣let, with some strong broth, or fair water, boil and scum them, then put in some Mace, a faggot of sweet Herbs, white Endive, Marigold-flow∣ers and Salt, and being finely boiled, serve them on sippets; and garnish the Dish with Mace and white Endive-flowers.

Pike boiled.

Take your Pike and wash it clean, then truss it whole, round, with the tail in his mouth, and his back scotched, or cut it in three pieces, and divide the middle piece into two; then boil it in Water, Salt, and Vinegar, put it not in till the liquor boil, and then make it boil apace, and that will crisp your Pike; but afterwards foftly. For the Sauce, put into a Pipkin a pint of White-wine, sliced Ginger, Mace, Dates quartered, a pint of large Oysters with their liquor, a little Vinegar and Salt, boil them a quarter of an hour, then mince a few sweet Herbs and Par∣sley, stew them till half the liquor be consu∣med; the Pike being boiled, dish it, and garnish the Dish with grated White-bread, or Ginger fine beaten, then beat up the Sawce with half a pound of Butter, minced Lemon or Orange, and pour it on the Pike with Sippets.

Pike stewed.

Take a Pike, slat it, and lay it in a Dish; when the blood is clean washed out, put to it as much White-wine as will cover it, and fet it a stew∣ing; when it boils, put in the Fish, and scum it,

and put to it some large Mace, whole Cinamon, and some Salt; when thorowly stewed, dish it on Sippets finely carved.

Pike Souc'd.

Draw and wash it clean from the blood and slime, then boil it in fair Water and Salt; when the liquor boils, put it to it, and boil it leisurely and simmering, feason it savourly of the Salt, boil it not too much, nor in more water than will just cover it. If you intend to keep it long, put as much White-wine as Water, of both as much as will cover the Fish, some Wine-vinegar, sliced Ginger, large Mace, Cloves, and some Salt; when it boils put in the Fish, Spices, and some Le∣mon-peel, boil it up quick, and not too much; then take it up in a Tray, and boil down the liquor to a Jelly; lay some sliced Lemon on it, pour on the liquor, and cover it up close; when you serve it in Jelly, melt some of the Jelly, and run it over therewith; garnish your Dish with Barberries and sliced Lemon.

Pike Roasted.

Take a Pike, scour off the slime, and take out the Entrails, lard the back with pickled Herring, (you must have a sharp bodkin to make the holes to lard it) then take some large Oy∣sters and Claret-wine; season the Oysters with Pepper and Nutmeg, stuff the Belly with the Oysters, and intermix the stuffing with Rose∣mary, Time, Winter-savory, sweet Marjoram, a little Onion and Garlick, sow these in the belly of the Pike; then take two sticks about the breadth

of a lath, and with packthread tye the Pike to the Spit, tye also along the side of the Pike which is not defended with the Spit, Rose∣mary and Bays; baste the Pike with Butter and Claret-wine; when it is roasted, rip up the Belly, and take out the Herbs quite away, boil up the Gravy with Butter, and dish it up.

Quaking-Pudding.

Slice the Crum of a Peny-manchet, and in∣fuse it three or four hours in a pint of scald∣ing hot Cream, covering it close, then break the bread with a spoon very small, and put to it eight Eggs (but four whites), and beat them together very well, then season it with Sugar, Rosewater and grated Nutmeg; if you think it too stiff, qualifie that fault with cold Cream, and beat them well together, then wet the bag or napkin, and flower it, put in the Pudding, and tye it hard, boil it half an hour, then dish it, and put Butter to it, Rosewater and Sugar, and so serve it to the Table.

Quince-Pyes.

Make choice of fair Quinces to make your Pye withall, pare them very thin, and core them, and lay them within your paste; add thereunto two races of Ginger sliced, as much Cinamon broken into bits, and eight or ten whole Cloves, lay these with the Quinces close packed, with as much refined Sugar as the Quin∣ces weigh, close it up; and having soaked four or five hours in the Oven, take it out and ice it.

You may otherways make a Quince-Pye thus: Take a gallon of Flower, a pound and half of

Butter, six Eggs, thirty Quinces, three pound of Sugar, half an ounce of Cinamon, the like quantity of Ginger and Cloves, and some Rose∣water, then make it into a Pye or Tart; when it is baked, strew on some double refined Sugar.

An excellent restorative for a weak back.

Take Clary, Dates, the pith of an Ox, and chop them together, put some Cream to them, Eggs, grated Bread, and a little white Sanders, temper them all well together, fry them, and let it be the first thing you eat in a morning. You may also take the leaves of Clary, and Nepe, and fry them for Breakfast.

A most incomparable broth or drink for a sick person.

Procure a good fleshy Capon, and take the flesh from the bones, or chop it in pieces very small, and not wash it, then put it in a Rose-Still, with slices of Lemon-peel, Wood-sorrel, with other restorative herbs, being distilled, give it the sick person to drink.

Rice-Tart.

Boil your Rice in Milk or Cream; being ten∣den boiled, pour it into a Dish, and season it with Nutmeg, Ginger, and Cinamon, Pepper, Salt, Sugar, and the yolks of six Eggs; put it in the Tart, with the juice of Orange, close it, and when it is baked, scrape Sugar thereon.

Rice-Cream.

Take a quart of Cream, two handfuls of Rice-flower,

and a quarter of a pound of Sugar, min∣gle the Flower and Sugar very well together, and put it in the Cream, then beat the yolk of an Egg with a little Rosewater, put it to the Cream and stir them all together, set it over a quick fire, and keep it continually stirring till it be as thick as Pap.

Another excellent and rare Cream.

Take a pound of Almond-paste, fine beaten with Rosewater, mingle it with a quart of Cream, six Eggs, a little Sack, half a pound of Sugar, and some beaten Nutmeg; strain them, and put them in a clean scoured Skillet, and set it on a soft fire, stir it continually, and being well in∣corporated, dish it and serve it up with juice of Orange, Sugar, and stick it full of candied Pistaches.

Several excellent Sawces for several Dishes, and first for green-Geese.

Take the juice of Sorrel mixed with scalded Goosberries, beaten Butter and Sugar, then serve it on Sippets. Or fill their bellies with Goos∣berries, and so roast them, then take them out, and mingle them with Sugar, Butter, Vinegar, Cinamon, and served on sippets.

For Land-fowl, take boiled Pruncs, and strain them with the blood of the Fowl, Cinamon, Ginger, and Sugar, boil them to an indifferent thickness, and serve it in Sawcers, with the Gravy of the Fowl.

For roast Mutton divers sorts of Sawces; 1. Gravy, Capers, Samphire, and Salt, stew them

well together. 2. Water, Onion, Claret-wine, sliced Nutmeg and Gravy boiled. 3. Whole Onions stewed in Gravy, White-wine, Pepper, pickled Capers, Mace, and three or four slices of Lemon. 4. Take Vinegar, Butter, and Cur∣rans, put them into a Pipkin with sweet Herbs finely minced, the yolks of two hard Eggs, some Cinamon, Ginger, Sugar, Salt, with some of the meat minced very small, and boiled up with the aforesaid ingredients. 5. Salt, Pepper, juice of Oranges, and an Anchove. 6. Preserve the li∣quor of the Oysters you stuff your Mutton with, and add thereto Onions, Claret, Capers, or Broom∣buds, Gravy, Nutmeg, and Salt boiled together. These for a taste, for brevity, I shall omit a many more for Mutton, which might be here inserted.

For roast Veal several Sawces. 1. Gravy, Claret, Nutmeg, Vinegar, Butter, Sugar and Oranges. 2. Only Vinegar and Butter. 3. All manner of sweet Herbs chopped small, with the yolks of three or four Eggs, and boil them in Vinegar and Butter, a few bread-crumbs, Currans, bea∣ten Cinamon, Sugar, and a whole Clove or two, put it under the Veal, with slices of Orange and Lemon to garnish the Dish.

For Red-deer. 1. The Gravy and sweet Herbs chopped small and boiled together. 2. White∣bread boiled in water pretty thick without spice, and put to it some Butter, Vinegar and Sugar. 3. The juice of Oranges or Lemons, with the Gravy. A Gallendine sawce I have already de∣scribed in the roasting of Red-deer.

For Rabbets several sawces. 1. Beaten Butter, with the Liver, and Parsley cut very small.

2. Sage and Parsley minced, roul it in a ball of Butter, and stuff the belly therewith.

For roast Hens divers Sawces. 1. Take the yolks of three hard Eggs minced small, Salt, grated Bread, Gravy, juice of Oranges, with Lemon-peel shred small. 2. Gravy and Claret boiled with a piece of an Onion, Nutmeg and Salt. 3. Oyster-liquor, an Anchove or two, Nutmeg and Gravy, and rub the Dish with a Clove of Garlick.

Sawces for roast Chicken. Butter and Vinegar boiled together with a little Sugar, then make thin sops of Bread, then lay the roast Chicken on them, and serve them up.

For roast Pidgeons, or Stock-doves. 1. Boil'd Parsley minced, and put amongst some Butter and Vinegar beaten up thick. 2. Vine-leaves roasted with the Pidgeons, minced and put into Claret with Salt, Butter and Gravy boiled toge∣ther. 3. Minced Onions boiled in Claret-wine almost dry, then put to it Nutmeg, Sugar, Gravy of the Fowl, and a little Pepper.

An excellent way to roast Salmon.

Take a Rand or Jole, cut it into four pieces, and season it with a little Nutmeg and Salt, stick a few Cloves, and put it on a small pit, put between it some Bay-leaves, and stick it with little sprigs of Rosemary, roast it and bast it with Butter, save the Gravy, and add to it for Sawce some Vinegar, sweet Butter, and some slices of Orange.

Salmon Fried.

Take a Jole, Chine, or Rand, and fry it in

clarified Butter; being stiff and crisp fried, make Sauce with a little Claret-wine, sweet Butter, grated Nutmeg, slices of Orange, and Oyster∣liquor, stew them all together, and pour on the Sauce, and on that, Parsley, Ellick-sander, and Sage-leaves fried in Butter.

Soust Veal, Lamb, or any joint of Mutton, Kid, Fawn or Venison.

Bone a breast of Veal, and soak it well from the blood, then wipe it dry, and season the side of the breast with beaten Nutmeg, Ginger, some sweet Herbs minced small, whole Coriander-seed, minced Lemon-peel and Salt, and lay some broad slices of sweet Lard over the seasoning, then roul it into a Collar, and bind it up in a white clean cloth, put it into boiling liquor, scum it well, and then put in sliced Ginger, sliced Nutmeg, Salt, Fennel, Parsley; being almost boiled, put in a quart of White-wine, and when it is quite boiled, take it off, and put in slices of Lemon, the peel of two Lemons whole, and a dozen Bay∣leaves, boil it close covered, that the souse may look white.

Taffety Tart.

First, wet your paste with Butter, and cold water, roul it very thin, then lay Apples in lays, and between every lay of Apples strew some fine Sugar, and some Lemon-peel cut very small; you may also put some Fennel-seed to them, let them bake an hour or more, then ice them with Rosewater, Sugar, and Butter beaten together, and wash them over with the same, strew more

fine Sugar over them, and put them into the Oven again; this done, you may serve them hot or cold.

Venison how to recover when tainted.

Take a clean cloth and wrap your Venison therein, then bury it in the Earth one whole night, and it will take away the ill scent or savour.

To make Beef, Ram, or Mutton pass for Venison.

Take your Beef, &c. and dip it in Pigs-blood, or any new blood, then take Small-beer and Vinegar, and parboil it therein, let it steep all night, then put some Turnsole to it; when it is baked, a good judgment shall not discern it from Red or Fallow-deer.

Warden-Tarts.

Take twenty good Wardens, pare them and cut them into your Tart, and put to them two pound of refined Sugar, twenty whole Cloves, a quarter of an Ounce of Cinamon broke into little bits, and three races of Ginger pared and sliced thin; then close up the Tart and bake it; it will require five hours baking; then ice it with a quarter of a pound of double refined Sugar, Rosewater and Butter.

Thus Ladies and Gentlewomen I have cursori∣ly ran through the whole body of the art of Cookery; I have only toucht here and there upon some excellent Receipts, and now much in fashion, leaving it to your industry to supply my deficien∣cy: I shall now proceed to the rest of those ac∣complishments which best become a Gentlewoman.