Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) Transcriberâs Note: The spelling in this text is appropriate for the period in which it was written and published. The text has been checked for errors and a list of changes that have been made appears at the end. Where there was any doubt, the original wording was kept. Italicised text is indicated _like this_, text that is upright within italic passages or spaced for emphasis ~like this~. [Illustration: _G Thorton Scul._] THE Comical _PILGRIM_; OR, TRAVELS OF A Cynick PHILOSOPHER, Throâ the most Wicked Parts of the WORLD, Namely, ENGLAND, }{ IRELAND, WALES, }{ and SCOTLAND, }{ HOLLAND. WITH His _Merry_ Observations on the _English_ Stage, Gaming-Houses, Poets, Beaux, Women, Courtiers, Politicians, and Plotters. _Welsh_ Clergy, Gentry, and Customs. _Scotch_ Manners, Religion, and Lawyers. _Irish_ Ceremonies in their Marriages, Christenings, and Burials. And _Dutch_ Government, Polity, and Trade. BEING A General SATYR on the Vices and Follies of the Age. The Second Edition. _LONDON_, Printed for _S. Briscoe_, at the _Bell Savage, Ludgate-Hill_, and the _Sun_ against _John_âs Coffee-House _Swithin_âs-Alley, Cornhill, 1722 [Illustration] THE PREFACE. _As Prefaces now are become common to every Production of the Press, I am resolvâd to be in the Fashion likewise, to let my Reader understand that I am not an Ascetick, or one of those devout Pilgrims, who will travel on Foot to see the holy Sepulchre, the Chapel of ~Loretto~, or some strange Relique; but a comical merry Traveller that would take a Perigrination, on Horseback or by Water, beyond the ~Devil~âs ~Arse~ iâthâ Peak, to see the Religion, Customs, and Manners of foreign People, as well as knowing those of my own Country; contrary to the Sentiments of ~Claudian~, who mentions it as a Happiness, for Birth, Life, and Burial, to be all in one Parish._ _Some Pilgrims may brag of their having seen a Vial full of the Virgin ~Mary~âs Milk; another Vial full of ~Mary Magdalen~âs repenting Tears; the Pummel of the Sword with which the Ear of ~Malchus~, the high Priestâs Servant, was cut off; the Bill of the Cock which crowâd after Saint ~Peter~ had denyâd his Master, set in Silver; an Ell ~Flemish~ of the Cord with which ~Judas~ hangâd himself; a Linnen Apron worn by our Saviourâs hÃ¦morrhoidal Patient; a Piece of the seemless Garment, for which the ~Jewish~ Soldiers cast Lots; one of Saint ~John~ the Baptistâs Eye-Teeth, set in Gold; Saint ~Paul~âs Cloak, which he left at ~Troas~, never the worse for wearing; and talk also of their often meeting with the wandering ~Jew~ in their Travels; these, I say, were Curiosities I valuâd not seeing; but in all Places wherever I came, I made general Observations on the Folly and Vices of the Inhabitants, thereby to correct my own Manners, which, indeed, is a very fine Thing, in either Man or Beast._ _In Order hereto, I have travellâd in three Parts of the World; namely, ~Europe~, ~Africa~, and ~America~; and thoâ Wickedness reigns in all Parts of the World, yet must I needs say, that it is not so predominate in any Place as in ~England~, ~Wales~, ~Scotland~, ~Ireland~, and ~Holland~; where it is as hard to find Religion, Honesty and Virtue walk Hand in Hand, as it was for ~Diogenes~ to find an honest Woman in ~Athens~. This Dearth of good Manners obligâd me, with the abovesaid Philosopher to turn ~Cynick~; and if by these Lucubrations, I can so far put Folly and Vice, out of Countenance, as to reclaim a wicked Age, it is all the Author desires for the Fatigue of taking a Pilgrimage, by Land and Sea, of above Eleven Thousand Miles, which is more than half the Circumference of the whole Earth._ [Illustration] THE Comical PILGRIM, OR, _Travels throâ_ England. As _London_ is the Metropolis, or capital City in the World, for Pride, Luxury, and all other Vices; I was very curious of making some Observations on them. In Order hereto, I frequented several Taverns, where was nothing but Drunkenness, and young Rakes vomiting about the Room, and in their _Bacchanalian_ Frolicks (which made them think, with _Copernicus_, the Earth turnâd round) breaking Pipes and Glasses, to inflame a great Reckoning to a larger Sum. I also haunted Jelly-Houses, where was no other Diversion, than seeing proud conceited Coxcombs eating Jellies, with a gilded Pap-Spoon, for Provocation to venerial Sports; which by lighting on a Fire-Ship, might bring them to the Charge and Misery of Pills, Bolusses, Electuaries, and Diet-Drinks; so that these gallanting Stallions, need no other Injunction of Penance, from the most rigid Confessor: And at every common Gaming-House about Town, the Gamesters are as lavishing of their Oaths and Curses, as they are at the Groom Porterâs. One is cursing the Dice, another biting his Thumbs, and another scratching where it doth not itch, whilst others are flourishing their Swords in the midst of twenty Gâ¸ºdâ¸ºs, to have their lost Money again. Think I to myself, the frequenting of these Places, will return to no better Account towards a Reformation of bad Manners, than if a Man should go to a Bawdy-House, to keep out of ill Company. So having heard that a deal of good Manners and Morality, might be learnt, in seeing Plays acted on the _English_ Stage; I then flung away many a Half Crown at the Theatres in _Bridges-Street_, and _Lincolnâs Inn Fields_, but by the immoral, profane, and impious Expressions usâd in the dramatick Writings, whether tragical or comical, I could reckon the Play-Houses, no other than Schools of Iniquity, the Sinks of all Wickedness, and Markets for the Devil. âTis out of doubt, that even the Theatres of _Greece_ and _Rome_, under Heathenism, were less obnoxious and offensive, yet nevertheless they stood condemnâd by the primitive Fathers, and general Councils. The detestable lewd Expressions in the _English_ Plays, can do no less than debauch the Minds, and corrupt the Manners of the Audience; but it must needs strike every good _Christian_ with Horror, to hear on the Stage Almighty God blasphemâd, his Providence questionâd and denyâd, his Name prophanâd, his Attributes ascribâd to sinful Creatures, and even to heathen Gods, his holy Word burlesquâd, and treated as a Fable, his Grace made a Jest of, his Ministers despisâd, Conscience laughâd at, Religion ridiculâd, the Catholick Faith and Doctrine exposâd, the sincere Practice of Religion, represented as the Effect of Vapours and Melancholly, Virtue discountenancâd, Vice encouragâd, Evil treated as Good, and Good as Evil; and all this highly aggravated, by being done in cool Blood, upon Choice and Deliberation. The Infidelity and Loosness of the present Age, is very much owing to the Play-Houses, where the Infection of most abominable Wickedness, spreads among the Spectators, from the Lady in the Front or Side-Box, to the tawdry Chambermaid in upper Gallery. Men and Women who frequent the Theatre, are, instead of learning Virtue, surrounded with inordinate Temptations, which incite them to unlawful Desires and Actions, which soon end in the utter Ruin, both of Body and Soul. Where Lewdness is represented, in all the Dresses that can vitiate the Imagination, and fasten upon the Memory; and where Pride and Falshood, Malice and Revenge, Injustice and Immodesty, Contempt of Marriage, and false Notions of Honour are recommended, no Good can be learnâd, either by old or young; and this not among _Mahometans_ and _Infidels_, not at _Rome_ and _Venice_, not in _France_ and _Spain_, but in a _Protestant_ Country, and upon the _English_ Stage, without any Fear that the Judgments of God will fall upon them. The _Players_ exposing (as they pretend they do) Formality, Humour, and Pedantry, is not an equivalent for their insulting sacred Things, and their promoting to so high a Degree, the Prophaneness and Debauchery of the Nation. Those who frequent the Play-House, say (to palliate the sin) a great deal of Morality is to be learnt from Plays; but I cannot perceive what good Morals can be obtained from such Expressions as these. âSure, if Woman had been ready created, the Devil, instead of being kickt down to Hell, had been married. _Leonora_âs Charms turn Vice to Virtue, Treason into Truth; Nature, who has made her the supreme Object of our Desires, must needs have designâd her the Regulater of our Morals. Sheâs mad with the Whimsies of Virtue, and the Devil. Damnâd Lies, by _Jupiter_ and _Juno_, and the rest of the Heathen Gods and Goddesses; for I remember I paid two Guineas for swearing _Christian_ Oaths last Night.â As may be seen in several of the comick Writers. However, the Admirers of the Stage must have some Excuse for their Folly, and thus the Devil too, to support Vice, hangs out the Colours of Virtue. Again, we cannot see what Morality can be learnt in, there Expressions in the following Tragedies of _Ådipus_ and _Theodosius_. _Thoâ round my Bed the Furies plant their Charms, Iâll break âem, with ~Jocasta~ in my Arms: Claspt in the Folds of Love, Iâll wait my Doom, And act my Joys, thoâ Thunder shakes the Room._ Act 2. _Nor shall I need a Violence to wound, The Storm is here that drives me on the Ground, Sure Means to make the Soul and Body part, A burning Fever, and a broken Heart._ Act 5. Scene 2. In which Lines abovesaid may be seen the Lover pursuing his Amours in Defiance of Heaven; and _Varanes_ dying a natural Death, or else he had been so wicked, as to have laid violent hands on himself. Neither are the _Greek_ and _Latin_ Dramatists without their prophane Flights, and wicked Rants: Nay, hear how _Augustin_, that great Father of the Church, in these Words, _Non omnino per hanc turpitudinem verba ista commodius discuntur, sed per hÃ¦c verba turpitudo ista confidentius perpetratur_. Confes. lib. 1. cap. 16. condemns the following Lines of _Terence_âs Eunuch, Act 3. Scene 5. _Suspectans tabulam quandam pictam, ubi inerat pictura hÃ¦c, Jovem Quo pacto DanaÃ¦ misisse aiunt quondam in gremium imbrem aureum Egomet quoque id spectare cÅpi, &c._ In short, no good Manners can be acquirâd on the _English_ Stage, by seeing an Actor going a Tiptoe, in Derision of mincing Dames; sometimes speaking full-mouthâd, to mock the Country Clowns; and sometimes upon the Tip of the Tongue, to scoff the Citizen? that thus, by the Imitation of all ridiculous Gestures, or Speeches, in all Kinds of Vocations, they may provoke Laughter. When Stages were first set up in _Rome_, it was accounted infamous to frequent them; and in _England_, Players, both Men and Women, are reckonâd so scandalous, that thoâ they stile themselves his Majestyâs Servants, yet the Statute Law terms them Vagabonds: âIndeed they are so infamously wicked, that one who never saw them in this Life, may nevertheless at the Resurrection, know their Bodies and Souls are Fellows; insomuch that as the Play-House in _Drury-Lane_ has been burnt once already, it would be a Mercy rather than a Judgment, if God vouchsafed to smite them once again.â The Audience in the Upper-Gallery is generally composâd of Lawyers Clerks, Valets de Chambre, Exchange-Girls, Chamber-Maids, and Skip-kennels, who at the last Act are let in _gratis_, in Favour to their Masters being Benefactors to the Devilâs Servants. The Middle-Gallery is taken up by the midling Sort of People, as Citizens, their Wives, and Daughters, and other Jilts, who make it their Business to let out their Commodities in Fee-tail, to the first Cully she picks up, after Play is over, for a small Treat, and twelve Pence dry. The Boxes are fillâd with Lords and Ladies, who give Money to see their Follies exposâd by Fellows as wicked as themselves. And the Pit, which lively represents the Pit of Hell, is crammâd with those insignificant Animals called Beaux, whose Character nothing but Wonder and Shame can compose; for a modern Beaux (you must know) is a pretty neat, phantastical Outside of a Man; a well digested Bundle of costly Vanities; and you may call him a Volume of methodical Errataâs bound in a gilt Cover. Heâs a curiously wrought Cabinet full of Shells and other Trumpery, which were much better quite empty, than so emptily full. Heâs a Manâs Skin full of Prophaness, a Paradise full of Weeds; a Heaven crammâd full of Devils, or _Satan_âs Bed-Chamber, hung with Arras of Godâs own making. He can be thought no better than a _Promethean_ Man; at best but a Lump of animated Dirt kneaded into Humane Shape; and if he has any such Thing as a Soul, it seems to be patchâd up with more Vices than are Patches in a poor _Spaniard_âs Cloak. His general Employment is to scorn all Business, but the Study of the Modes and Vices of the Times; and you may look upon him as upon the painted Sign of a man hung up in the Air, only to be tossâd to and fro with every Wind of Temptation and Vanity. As for his Apparel, he endeavours to that all should appear new about him, except his Vices and Religion; heâs too much in Love with these to change them; besides, the latter of them he cannot change, because he never had any. When you look upon his Cloaths, you will be apt to say, he wears his Heaven upon his Back; and truly (âtis much to be fearâd) you see as much of it there, as He ever shall. He is trickâd up in such Gauderies, as if he was resolvâd to make his Body a Lure for the Devil; and with this Bravery would make a Bait should tempt the Tempter to fall in Love with him. By this Variety of Fashions he goes nigh to cheat his Creditors; who for this Reason, dare never swear him to be the same Man they formerly had to deal withal. His Draper may very well be afraid to lose him in a Labyrinth of his own Cloth, which fits, or hangs (shall I say?) for the most part so loosely about him, as if it were ever ready to fly away, for Fear of a Bailiff. His Language and Discourse are altogether suitable to his Garb and Habit, all affected and apish, but indeed, far more vile, sinful, and abominable. When he talks, why then his Time-observing Hand and Foot do so point, accent, and adorn all his phantastick Flourishes, that his Words are often as much lost in his Actions, as his Sense in his Words: Withal using foolish Expressions, as stab my Vitals, run me through the _Diaphragma_, pasitively (not positively) it is so and so; speaking as effeminately, and Molly-like, as the _Ischnotes_, who say, as you may see in _Lilly_âs Grammar, _Nync_ for _Nunc_, _Tync_ for _Tunc_. By Degrees he steps from Idleness and Emptiness, Foolery and Drollery, to Scurrility and Obloquy; so that if his black Breath could blow out, or eclipse those Lights that shine brightest, we should not have one Star left in Virtueâs Heaven; and those Lights which were once sent into the World, to guide him timely and truly out of it into a better, he first endeavours to extinguish, that so he may, without Check or Shame, wander throâ all the Works of Darkness into Hell. Alas! he sees no such Loveliness in the Things above, as may oblige him to the submissive Courtship of saying his Prayers below; and yet is so confident to enjoy Heaven at last; as if he thought God would be beholden to him for accepting his Blessings; or (as some foolish Lovers take Occasion to double their Addresses from the Unkindness of a coy Mistress) God would the more earnestly importune him to be savâd, the more disdainfully he looks upon Salvation. If ever he appears at Church, it is but to meditate upon the Ladies, as they sit in their Sundayâs Beauties; and then he returns from the House of God, as most who go thither with no better Intentions, nay ten Times more an _Athiest_ than he went. The Theatre in the _Hay-Market_ is his sole Delight, where half a Guinea is given for an _Italian_ Song, sung in a new Opera by some foreign Eunuch, or Jilt, with such Quivering, that the Words are lost and confounded with more affected Noise than Harmony. Or else he passes his Time away (as above hinted) at the Play-Houses in _Drury-Lane_, or _Lincolnâs-Inn Fields_, to ogle an impudent Actress, or some female Dancer, who craneâs her Neck with such various Motions, that one would think she was going to break it without the Assistance of a Hangman. Or if he is not at these Places of Pollution and Wickedness, the Tavern he then makes his Exchange; where he endeavours to drink himself so far into a Beast, as if it was his Design to become thereby incapable of Damnation, except he be forcâd to sleep out the last Nightâs Intemperance; and thinks himself a Champion, when he can kick two down Stairs at once, the Drawer and his Bottle; and sound the Alarm to the Skirmish, in a loud Peal of new-fashionâd Curses. After all is done there, he walks the Streets as light in his Head, as his Purse; and much oftner salutes the Pavement than the Passengers. The Beau hates no Name so much as that of a _Christian_, he is afraid it would make him melancholy: He travels over the wide World of Sin, till he hath as little Money as Religion, and no more Credit than Money; whereby he is usually at last constrainâd either to lie hid, and so become his own Prisoner, or to pawn his Body to the Marshal of the _Kingâs Bench_ Prison in _Southwark_, or the Warden of the _Fleet_, for his Chamber; or else, to become a Citizen of the World, and so at last is every where at Home, because he is indeed at Home no where. In fine, I never saw an affected Beau have any Bravery; which makes me think they are related to a certain Attorney, who once resenting my sending an affronting Letter to his Sweetheart, had not the Courage to draw his Tilter, when I _ex tempore_ spoke to him the following Lines: _Know, Sir, that I was really bred and born To lash the Vices of the Age; and sworn To lampoon ~Beaux~, and ~Jilts~; and to condemn What ~Pulpits~, nor the ~Stage~ dare not contemn: So Anger, ~Frank~, can no Redress afford, For to defend my Pen, see hereâs my Sword._ Now think I with myself, if this be the Way of _London_, Drinking, Gaming, and Whoring; Iâll eâen retire into the Country, where I thought was more Simplicity and Honesty among the Rusticks than the Citizens; but I found myself mistaken, for going to _Deptford_, I perceivâd as much Drunkenness among the _Tarpaulins_, as among the Admirers of _Geneva_, at the _Frenchman_âs Bob-Shop, or _dirty-Face Dick_ in the _Strand_; but however, the _Tarpaulin_âs Froes of this Place, as well as at _Wapping, are pretty virtuous, throâ their Husband_âs _making them go without Smocks, to prevent their Neighbours from taking up their Wives Linnen_. From hence, I went to _Greenwich-Park_, where I found as many Assignations made betwixt Whore and Cully, as in _St. James_âs, or _Hyde-Park_. Here was as much Lying by the Fops in Praise of their Mistresses, as is among Lawyers; as much Flattering, as there is at Court; and as much Dissembling, as in a _Presbyterian_ or _Anabaptist_ Meeting-House; a Folly, which I must own, I have been formerly guilty of myself, when I sent to a young Gentlewoman this amorous Petition, for Flattery is the only Bait to decoy the coyest Virgin in _England_. _Harmonious Numbers now my Muse does find, To sing the choicest of your precious Kind. Thy Wit, as well as Beauty, lovely Dame, Who first my Breast, and more than Wealth, or Fame, Exerts my Soul, and is my constant Aim. The genuine Blushes that your Cheeks adorn, Were ravishâd from the Rose, or crimson Morn; The ~Persian~ Insects labrâing, wrought with Care The slender silken Threads that form your Hair; The clear, quick Lustre of your piercing Eyes, Was shot from Diâmonds, or the spangled Skies; Vermilion ~Coral~ left its ozie Bed, To flush your balmy Lips with glowing Red; To frame your Teeth, choice Pearls did crowding come, Each from its secret Cell in ~Oceanâs~ Womb: ~Arabian~ Sweets did all their Stores transfer, And fed from Home, to breath in you, bright Star. ~Eden~ once flourishâd like your blooming Face, Your Shape, your Mein, and unaffected Grace, From Heavân the first of Females once possessâd, Created as a Pattern to the rest: From Spring your Gaiety, from calmest Brooks Was wafted the Sereneness of your Looks; Sweet ~Philomel~, as she departing, sung, Bequeathâd the Musick of your silver Tongue; The Down of Swans, and Lillies, or the gay And fragrant Bloom that crowns the youthful May, To frame your Skin, did gracefully unite Their yielding Softness, and unblemishâd White: The vast Cerulean Sky, Earth, Sea, and Air, Did then combinâd, and various Stores prepare (At Heavenâs commanding Call) to frame you fair. They framâd you of their rarest Treasures joynâd, And in the Mould an Angelâs Soul unshrinâd Therefore, fair Virgin, whose most dazling Charms Can Saints and Anchorites bring to your Arms, Let us this Day, for itâs a Law divine, Offer our mutual Hearts on Cupidâs Shrine; Revel, whilst living, in the Joys of Love, Like thundâring Jove, and other Gods above; For if we slight bright ~Venus~ while weâve Breath, Thereâll be no Thoughts of loving after Death._ But being soon tirâd of _Greenwich_, I proceeded on my Pilgrimage to _Gravesend_, where, (and at _Stroud_, _Rochester_, and _Chatham_) the Vintners, Innkeepers, and Victuallers, are more extortioning than any Pawn-Broker, who has the Honesty to take no more than _Cent. per Cent._ for what Money they lend. Hereupon, bidding adieu to the County of _Kent_, I rambled through the County of _Surry_; but it being Assize-Time when I arrivâd at _Kingston_ upon _Thames_, I found I was leapâd out of the Fryingpan into the Fire, for Provisions and Lodging were then as dear as a Suit of Law in _Chancery_; so that I rid forthwith into the County of _Sussex_, where I saw nothing but a Parcel of Bumpkins and Milk-Wenches returning all home, as drunk as _David_âs sow, from a Country-Wake. Thence, I went into _Hampshire_, where Rusticks are as fat as their Hogs and as liquorish as those who buy their Honey. In this County is _Southampton_, where the Sword of Sir _Bevis_ is held in as much Veneration by the Towns People, as a Piece of Paper worn by âPrentice-Boys, and Servant-Wenches on _Valentine_âs Day. Hence, I went to _Portsmouth_, betwixt which Place and Hell, the Soldiers garrisonâd here say, there is but only a Sheet of brown Paper; however, it is honourâd by giving the Title of a Dutchess to _Squintabella_, _alias_ Madamoiselle _Louise de Querouaille_. At this Sea-port, crossing the Water, I reached at the Distance of three Leagues, the _Isle of Wight_, and proceeded to _Carisbrook_ Castle, which inwardly, (as well as outwardly) is much out of Repair, especially the Room in which King _Charles_ I. was confinâd a Prisoner, a little before the horrid Murder perpetrated on him, the then prevailing Party, who under a Stratocracy or Army-Power, brought him to the Block, and then conspirâd to overthrow the well settled Constitution of this Kingdom with Anarchy, and Confusion which unparalleled Piece of Villany incited me to write _ex tempore_ on the Wall of that fatal Place, the following Lines. _What dismal Horror, and as dismal Gloom, Invades the hallowâd Silence of this Room! Where Majesty in Mourning sat, to wait The wreched News of his more wretched Fate; Curst Spawn of Schism! to give the fatal Shock, Which sent a King a Martyr from the Block. The barbarous Act, which smote his Royal Head, Our Calendars shall ever die with Red; To paint the Overthrow of thâ Church and State, In the rebellious Times of Forty Eight. My Muse, with the shrill Eccho of these Walls, For Vengeance on the bloody Nation calls; And weeps, till fruitful ~Albion~ is freed From the ~Fanaticks~ pestilential Breed; An Offspring sprung from that most odious Race, Whose Hanging would the ~Tripple-Tree~ disgrace. The Royal Captive here remained in Tears, Till ~Bradshaw~ doomâd a Period to his Years; But now the injurâd Saint in Peace does dwell, While those that judgâd him, burning are in Hell._ Getting cross the Water again, from this dismal Isle, I no sooner set Foot upon _Terra firma_, but I made the best of my Way for _Berkshire_; where I took a Survey of _Windsor_ Castle, and then thought myself as well Qualifyâd as any Knight of the Garter, to take a Pilgrimage whither I pleasâd: So with a full Body, and an empty Stomach, (for you must know, we Pilgrims live not very daintily) I went into _Wiltshire_, where I as much admired the Cathedral of _Salisbury_, (as an Antiquary, doth an old Tomb; who will go forty Miles, and more to see it) because it containâd as many Windows about it, as a _German_ Countess did once Children in her Womb, which were just three hundred sixty five, the precise Number of Days in the Year, unless it happens to be _Bissextile_ or Leap-Year, which has one Day more. Hence, I went with a light Heart, and a thin Pair of Breeches into _Dorsetshire_; where being nothing remarkable to take Notice of, it came into my Noddle to make the following Acrostick on Nothing. _N othing was the first Matter made the World; O n Man eâer since nothing but Plagues are hurlâd. T he Tye of Wedlockâs nothing but a Snare: H onourâs like nothing but the empty Air. ~I rishmen~ are nothing but Fools void of Sense N othing is Sin but publick Insolence. G old! Gold! and nothing else quits the Offence._ Next, I went a pilgramaging into _Devonshire_, which might be properly callâd _Devilshire_, for seeing how the Inhabitants would eat White-Pots red hot in a Manner, a Stranger would be apt to conclude, they came from whence they have nothing else for their Food but Brimstone and Fire. Hereupon, I galloped strait into _Cornwal_, a County very plentiful of Wood-Cocks, not only flying in the Air, but you should also see them smoaking or tipling in every Chimney-Corner, in Winter. Thence, I rambled into _Somersetshire_, where, at the _Bath_, I saw so much Whoredom committed, that I thought the Men, or Women neither had Occasion to wash themselves in hot Water, when their Bodies were all on Fire before; unless it was to make an Experiment of that Aphorism in Physick, which says, one Heat drives out another. Not liking this Place, I took a Pilgrimage (I canât say Tour, or Progress, because Pilgrims are not Noblemen) into _Gloucestershire_, where I saw the Sins of the People were as red as the Scarlet they die; so I soon shook the Dust off my Shoes, as a Testimony against their Wickedness, and went to _Oxon_. No sooner was I enterâd into _Oxfordshire_, but I was in as longing a Condition, as the big-bellied Woman was for a bite of a Butcherâs Arm, to see the most famous University of _Oxford_; thinking that in that Academy and Nursery of Learning, I should see Piety, and Virtue, climb up to the very Apex of Glory; but too soon were my Hopes frustrated, for instead of Religion and good Manners, I beheld nothing but Irreligion and Prophaneness; for the Scholars were so far from being religious, that they were ashamâd of nothing so much as that any should have the Charity to think them so. They seemâd to cry out upon _Eve_, for a lazy and dull Sinner; whilst in every Oath they loudly swore, that Soul not worth damning, that could not sin without a Temptation. By their horrible and hideous Oaths they shewâd, as if indeed they had this desperate Design upon Almighty God, to render his sacred Name odious to the World, by taking it often in their profane Mouths. Their chief Delight was to dwell upon the sore Place of an obscene Poem; at the same Time never commending the Poet, but for his Infirmities. Those Sparks callâd Gentlemen Commoners, were so fantastical and prodigal, that they walkâd as if they went in a Frame; next as if both Head and every Member of them turnâd upon Hinges. Every Step they took, presented me with a perfect Puppet-Play; and _Rome_ itself could not in an Age have shewâd more Anticks, than one of these Blades was able to imitate in half an Hour. Here those who have Money enough allowâd them by their Friends, learn first of all to make Choice of their boon Companions, how to rail at the Statutes, and break all good Orders; how to wear a gaudy Suit, and a torn Gown; to curse their Tutors by the Name of _Baal_âs Priests, and to sell more Books in half an Hour, than they had bought them in a Year; to forget the second Year what, perhaps for want of Acquaintance with the Vices of the Place, they were forcâd for a Pass-Time to learn in the first, and then they think they have Learning enough for them and their Heirs for ever. Thought I to my self, if this is _Oxford_, the Devil take the Collegians and Citizens too, for there was never Barrel the better Herring betwixt either of âem; one was full as bad as the other, so I eâen made the best of my Way into _Buckinghamshire_, where, at _Eaton_ College, finding the Scholars to have more Guts than Brains, and less Learning and good Manners than either of the two, _Utrum horum mavis accipe_, as you may see in _Syntaxis_. I ramblâd through _Oxfordshire_, again into _Worcestershire_, where I observâd nothing material, but poor Skeletons of Men and Women, knitting Mittins and Stockings; and Children, both Boys and Girls, smoaking Tobacco, in Pipes as black as their Faces, and about an Inch in Length, for a Breakfast. Hence I went into _Herefordshire_, where I thought myself under the same Punishment, as _Tantalus_ was when in Hell, for the Hedge-Rows all along the Roads, being full of Apple-Trees, the Apples would bob at my Mouth, but I could not catch âem, which I think was tantalizing me with a Vengeance. I had not been long in this County, before I steerâd my Course for _Warwickshire_, where in the City of _Coventry_, I was shewâd the wooden Picture of a Cobler, which (as the People told me) was made to perpetuate the Memory of one of _Crispin_âs Occupation, whose Mouth watering to peep throâ his Garret Window, to see the Lady _Godiva_âs _Ay-forsooth_, as she rid naked on Horseback through the City, to release the Inhabitants from heavy Taxes laid upon them by her Husband _Leofric_, he was struck blind for his Sauciness of presuming to look at lacâd Mutton. But above all, this County glories much in that it gave Birth to _Guy_ Earl of _Warwick_, who killing a fierce dun Cow upon _Dunmoor-Heath_, by _Dunchurch_, both which Places (I suppose) take their Names from this heroick Bravery; and for this Piece of Service and other Exploits, as killing a wild Boar; his Memory is also still perpetuated, as well as the abovesaid Coblerâs, in many Victuallers Signs, to this Day. Next, going into _Northamptonshire_, and Night beginning to creep upon me, I began to be mighty Melancholly, as being all alone; but as good Luck would have it, I overtook a Cordwainer, who (as he told me) was newly recoverâd from a sad Mischance; for walking carelesly one Day, he happenâd to have a Fall, and to squat his Breech upon a Hedge-Hog, which he carryâd away as cleverly (it clinging to his Buttocks) as if he had sate upon a Ball of his Wax. Whether there is a Sympathy between a Shoemakerâs Tail, and the Skin of an Urchin, or whether the Bristles of the Creature enterâd the Pores of his Backside, I list not to decide that Controversy now; but however, the Mortal complainâd, that it was an uneasy Cushion, and that that Spinny of Awls, had made a Cullender of his Backside. But being not much concernâd at the Cerebrosity of his scievy Bum, the Eyelet-Holes whereof being not very deep, we went together, till we came to a Church, standing like an Ace, and moping by itself, at some Distance from a little Village; which, whether it ran from the Parish, or the Parish from it, I was not then informâd; though I have most Reason to suspect the latter, in Regard as to outward Appearance the weak Constitution of the Fabrick seemâd not much to be addicted to run. It seemâd to be very crazy, and had a Muffler of Ivy, which I presume was instead of Crutches; for whereas that feeble Vegetable is usually upheld by the Walls it clings to, I believe it was a Buttress here to support the Walls. But having saddenâd our Aspect with the melancholly Looks of this desolate Temple, we took our leave of it, and shot directly into the Village; at our first Salutation whereof we chancâd to pop into a dapper Ale-House, mightily stuft with a huge Hostess, whose Moisture distilling through the Pores of her Body, and being somewhat turnâd through excessive Heat, struck our olfactive Nerves with so great a Sowerness, that we had quite been overcome with this Vessel of Vinegar, had she not too much joggâd herself by an unhappy Fall, and spilt a great Quantity of her unctuous Liquor. The Shoemaker conjecturâd she had lost about five or six Pounds Avoirdupois, from her Rear, and presently concluded she was in great Danger of hanging all a-one-Side, unless some charitable Person should help her with Thrust of assisting Nose. We had scarce primâd our Pipes, but in comes a Law-Jobber, accompanied with a Bum-Brusher, or School-Master of the Place, who, after some Time, took Occasion to try their Skill and Breeding at Fistycuffs, but (Thanks to the Stars) without any Danger to their Professions; for they did not so much Aim at the Head, as level their Fury at each others Heels, where their Knowledge was not supposâd to lie, thoâ some there held that they had as much Learning at one End, as they had at tâother. At this blind Alehouse, I and _Crispin_âs Disciple lay one Night, whence, we sojournâd together into _Bedfordshire_, till we came to _Dunstable_, a Town builded by King _Henry_ I. to bridle the Outrageousness of one _Dun_, a notable Thief, from whom it takes its Name. Here, Mr. Snob having a Mistress, and being almost within the Atmosphere of her Presence, began to wind her, and had a great Tendency to the Place were she was; so that I might as soon expect a Stone to fall beyond the Centre, as that this Gentle-Craftsman should budge further; wherefore, nothing was expected now, but an immediate Divorce from each others Company; but before we parted, he obligâd me with the Prospect both of her Person and Fortune. As for the first, as soon as I saw it, I had greater Reason to congratulate my Eye-sight than before; for she was blest with the most ravishing Aspect, and a snug Face, most prodigiously gracâd with a dainty fine Nose, fastenâd in the Middle; which was not like some Snouts that look more upon one Cheek, than they do upon the other, but shewâd equal Prospect to both, not at all disobliging the Right, by fleering too much on the Left. And then for her Eyes, they are excellent at twiring, and would (I warrant you) be sure to keep the Nose safe, for one lookâd one Way, and the other, another. The Woman had a Mouth too, which was somewhat bigger than that of a Blunderbuss, thoâ not twice as big as the capacious Bore of a _Winchester_ Quart-pot. This Mouth, she put but to one Use, and thatâs the same we put ours to, that is, to eat three or four Meals in a Day; for it seems, whereas other Women often use theirs in Prating and Twatling, we perceivâd, that this savâd her Mouth, and spake through the Nose. As I have given you the Picture of her Person, so now Iâll present you with a Landskip of her Fortune. As for her Lands, that is, Pasture-Ground, and Meadow, we could not discern, but that (like a Spot upon the Globe) they took but little Room upon the Surface of the Earth; and (like the Possessions of _Alcibiades_) were but a little Speck to the World. A little Muck would dung her Fallow; one high Table Tâ¸º (to speak in the _Oxford_ Dialect) would much enrich it, and an Ear of Corn would go near to sow it: âTis like, she had Grass enough for a Couple of Rabbits. Having surveyed the Paramour, and the Portion of this snivelling Cobler, after a Treble go-down out of a Tin-Pot, a right Line Scrape with Left-Leg, and uncouth Doffing off a bad Bonnet, I returnâd his Coblership Thanks for his Society, and solemnly took Leave of my Fellow-Traveller. After this Departure, I was forcâd to beguile away the Time in the shady Solitude of silent Thoughts, which, before, I spent in the brisker Entertainments of Discourse and Dialogue. At length I came into _Cambridgeshire_, some Parts whereof seemâd to be a little _Arabia_ of Sand, enough (as I thought) to supply all the Hour-Glasses in the County; nay, perhaps, and that of Time too, till the last Minute. Arriving at the University of _Cambridge_, I lay at _Jesus_ College, in the Garden of which Place, I discoverâd among some Ruins, the Snout, and some other Limbs of a murderâd Dial; yet it was not so defacâd, but that I could discover in its Physiognomy, some martyrâd Figures, that were yet legible, and there were some Reliques of Lines, that were not quite obliterated by Time, who, I presume, being vext that it should observe his Motions, had out of Envy and Malice, thus far set his Grinders in it, to deface it. Here, the Students, at _Oxford_, would be as drunk as any Woman, outswear a Life-guard-Man, or Horse-Grenadier; and eat, drink, and lie with any Body. But when I saw whole Shoals of great hulking Fellows, in such ragged Gowns, that our _London_ Bunters would scorn to pick âem up, flocking about the Kitchen-door, some with Basons, some with Porringers, some with Pipkins, some with Pans, some with Chamber-Pots, and some with their very Caps, to beg College Broth; I thought the Scene a very lively Resemblance of poor Lazarus, begging for the Crumbs which fell from the Table of _Dives_. Hence, I went into _Huntingdonshire_, which is a very proper County for unsuccessful Lovers to live in; for upon the Loss of their Sweethearts, they will here find an Abundance of Willow-Trees, so that they may either wear the Willow green, or hang themselves, which they please; but the latter is reckonâd the best Remedy for slighted Love. Passing through _Godmanchester_, I rambled to _Watford_ in _Hartfordshire_, near which Town, formerly stood _Langley-Abbey_, the Birth Place of _Nicholas Breakspear_, who in the Year 1154, being advancâd to the Papal Dignity, assumâd the Name of _Adrian_ IV. and thoâ he had been a poor Servant, was so proud, as to excommunicate an Emperor of _Germany_, a _Sicilian_ King, and the Senators of _Rome_; for these Popes are sawcy Fellows, when they come to wear triple Crowns, as Kings of Heaven, Earth, and Hell; which last Place, they have enjoyâd by Hereditary Right and Succession, many Ages before the Reign of Pope _Joan_. Going next into _Essex_, which is as subject to Agues, as the Hundreds of _Drury_ is to the Pox, and the whole County much noted for its excellent Calves, but the biggest of that Sort of Cattle are the Inhabitants. I passâd through _Colchester_, and crossing the County, got into _Staffordshire_, where being informâd at the City of _Lichfield_, that the Thief-taker-General of _England_ first receivâd his damnâd stinking Breath in that County; I did not care for staying long there, for Fear, the Change of this Air should make me as vile, and double corrupted a â¸º as himself. In case it should be this Fellowâs good Fortune to dance at _Tyburn_, betwixt Heaven and Earth, as being unworthy of either, the Ordinary of _Newgate_ may give this Account of him in his dying Speech; how that his Parentage was very obscure and mean; his Livelihood at first was obtaining Charity from Milk-Maids, and other Country Lasses, by squeezing pretty Ditties out of the Womb of a Bladder, with a Piece of Packthread; and if he should prove so hardenâd at the Gallows, as to make no larger Confession of himself, set him down (like _Paul Lorrain_) obstinate. In fine, he had such a bad Character among his own Country-Men, that some said, it was great Pity he had not been hangâd as soon as he was breechâd; whilst others replyâd, that he ought never to die, but be tossâd from Dâ¸ºl to Dâ¸ºl, till there was no Hell left to toss him in any longer. I soon made the best of my Way into _Shropshire_, where, at a little Town, or rather Village, callâd _Woor_, happenâd a sad Misfortune; for a certain Glass-Case, by Reason of the Rudeness of two lusty Pusses, but whether affrighted at their Catterwauling, or it being not able to bear them in the Acts of Love, I cannot tell which, but certain it was, it let go its Hold, and after a dismal Manner, came blundering down, attended with the Ruin of several Jiggumbobs, and Jimcracks, as the Ivory Gums of a toothless Comb, a little bottle-breechâd Glass replenishâd with Love Powder; a Brace of blind Needles, that lost their Eyes in the Fall; a double Scut of a Hare tyâd up with a single Packthread; the latter End of an old Broomstick; the Butt End of an old Sugar-Loaf; the true Lovers Knot made in Wire, a square bit of Tin, the Margin of a broad Hat, one Finger-Stall, two Taggs, a Fescue made of Brass Wire, a crackâd Glass with a Club-Foot, the Skin of an Onion stuft with Arsenick, and one Whisker of a bearded Arrow. But as one Misfortune seldom comes alone, so this was attended with another, for a young _Salopian_ Lass who was the Proprietor of these Things, took the Accident of them so much to Heart, that she very decently hangâd herself, to the no small Comfort, to be sure, of her Parents, who had six or seven Children, besides this unhappy Daughter, whom nobody could blame for this Piece of Rashness; for is it not a sad Thing to lose so commodious a Place, to lay pretty Things in, and all by the Misdemeanour of two unmannerly Cats? For where could this poor Creature afterwards have laid her Gally-Pots, Gums, and Pomatum? Had these Mousehunters only easâd Nature there, and then jingerly departed, they had been very excusable, but first to come slily into a Ladies Chamber, and then to squabble and fall out there, and in the Midst of their Quarrel to pursue one another to the Top of a Shelf, and there to renew the Battle again, and to box one another âtill they fell themselves, and demolishâd that very Thing which supported them in their bickering, as the Fool in the Fable sawâd off the Bough he sat on, Oh! this is a very sad Thing indeed, and would make any other young Woman, who had no more Sense then she, hang herself likewise. But bidding Adieu to the proud _Salopians_, I went into _Cheshire_, where the Towns ending much upon the _Wich_, as _Nantwich_, _Middlewich_, _Northwich_; I thought they affected the _Dutch_ Way of putting one Name to the End of their Towns, as _Rotterdam_, _Schiedam_, _Amsterdam_, and so forth. In the City of _Chester_, I happened to lie at a Physicianâs House, whose Pretences to Learning were very great, but by our Conversation, I found him to have more Stomach than Brains, and therefore was more like to have more Consolation in the Kitchin, than in a Study; for there, perhaps he might find a Jobb of Work for his Grinders; whereas he knew not what to do with his Books, unless he should act the Moth, and eat them. I perceivâd his Parts to lie more towards the Powderingtub, than his _Pharmacopeia_; for whilst he was busy in the former, he might keep himself alive, but when he read in the latter, he would kill his Patients. We had some roast Beef for Supper; and I commonly found him within an Inch of the Dripping-pan, with an Acre of Bread in his Hand, which he callâd a Sop, and with it, when my Back was turnâd, he usually spungâd up the Dripping, whereby he cheated Sir-Loyn, and robbâd his Knighthood of its due Moisture. Hence, I went into the County of _Northumberland_, where I found _Newcastle_, almost entirely surrounded with Coal Pits, whence seeing Myriads of Men, as black as _Old Nick_, ascending out of the subterranean Shops, upon the Surface of the Earth, I imaginâd them to have been so many _Cyclops_ who had been helping _Vulcan_ to forge Thunderbolts for _Jupiter_. Not liking the Conversation of these _English_ Negroes, I stept over the River _Tine_ into the County of _Durham_, where, in the City bearing the same Name, I lay one Night; and next Morning taking my Leave of my Landlady, about half a Mile from the Town, I saw a Church-Yard, where was a whole Herd of Swine a routing, as if they had been turnâd in on Purpose to root up _Christians_, as they are in the Fields in _Italy_, to dig up Turfles. A little Wall lay sculking about this Territory of the dead, which I suppose, was placâd there as a Bulwark to their Ashes; but it provâd but a feeble Fence against the Intrusion of the Lambs, who made frequent Capreols into this silent Dormitory: The Mound was raisâd a little, capt with Turf, and environâd with the Hollowness of a good handsome Ditch; but yet, neither Cap, nor Ditch could keep these Animals from leap-frogging over them, from grazing in a Charnel-House, and from turning a CÅmitery of Shades, and Ghosts into a feeding Pasture of hungry Beasts. At last, I got into _Yorkshire_, where, beyond _Northallerton_, meeting with a Herdsman, I was almost frighted out of my Wits, for this Fellow was a strange Creature, wonderfully _Gothâd_, and be-_Vandallâd_, even to Barbarity itself. He was really a Clown in grain, an uncultivated Boor, a Beast of the Herd in Humane Shape. I proposâd a Query or two about the Genius of the County; he told me the Soil was cold, and big with Clay, and would doubtless yield a good Harvest of Tobacco-Pipes; and as for the Inhabitants, he said, they were a Pap-Pudding Sort of People, much addicted to that vile Sort of Creature. As he said, I saw a whole Table at a Christening, spread with a Yard of Pudding, and a Balk of Beef, a Ridge at one End and a Furrow at the other; which did so wonderfully work upon the Chaps of the Gossips, and make their Mouths water, that the Godfathers and Godmothers fell furiously to Snouting for some few Morsels; mean while the two earâd Pitcher, that stood upon the Bench, was Mr. _Prynnâd_ in Scuffle, that is, lost a Lug in the Fray; and as I was afterwards informâd, the Distaff lost a Lock or two of its flaxen Perriwig. The Women of this Country are very coming, and are as great Breeders, as any of our _English Quakers_; and as for the Men, they are naturally born Thieves, being as dextrous Rogues at Horse-Stealing as a Serjeant at the _Poultry_, or _Woodstreet-Compter_ in selling Minutes dearer than a Watchmaker. But among rational Wonders in a Village, where I say, the most remarkable ~WONDER~ was an eminent Cot-Quean, a meer Woman in the Habit of a Man, a Kind of _Mol Cut-Purse_ Creature, an Epicene Animal of a twisted Gender, who had a Petticoat Soul in a trunk-breechâd Body, and scandalizâd Virility, by Skill in Housewifery. He spun (the Neighbours said) like a Spider, and made his Wheel giddy by a swift _Vertigo_. He was a learned Craftsman in the making of Diet, a notable
{'title': 'The Comical Pilgrim; or, Travels of a Cynick Philosopher... by Anonymous', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}