CHAP. I.

WHAT the Spirit of a Man is to the Body Natural, That, Publick Spirit is to the Body Politick: When the Spirit is vi⯑gorous, for the moſt part, the Body is ſtrong and healthful; but the Body decays when the Spirit languiſhes, and after it totally departs, diſ⯑ſolves, and returns into the Elements, from which it firſt was taken; as a Nation, when that mighty Spirit that animates it, wholly fails, returns into the Maſs of Nations.

Since Publick Spirit then is that, by whoſe Vigor States are ſtrong and healthful, and by whoſe Lan⯑guiſhment they decay; nothing ſeems to me to be of more Importance to the Good of my Country, than a free and a bold Enquiry, What this publick [2] Spirit is, and in what Condition 'tis at preſent a⯑mong us?

Publick Spirit may be defin'd to be the ardent Love of one's Country, affecting us with a zealous Concern for its Honour and Intereſt, and inſpiring us with Reſolution and Courage to promote its Ser⯑vice and Glory.

Since Publick Spirit then is inſeparable from the Love of one's Country, we come now to enquire, What it is to love one's Country? A bold and a dangerous Inquiſition; which, as it will diſtinguiſh Publick Spirit from private Intereſt, or from Vain⯑Glory, will be to many, a provoking Satyr. But thoſe People, who are engaged by their Pride or their private Intereſt to ſupport the Publick Liber⯑ty, would do well to conſider, that they are oblig'd by the ſame Intereſt to ſecond and encourage any En⯑deavour that is made towards the keeping up, or reſtoring of Publick Spirit; it being certain, that a General Publick Spirit is the only ſolid Baſis of a National Liberty; and that where-ever that Spirit is not, Liberty is but by Accident: For Intereſt may vary, and Pride may change its Object; but the Love of our Country, become habituate and grown up with us from our Infancy, is always ſure to re⯑main.

To love one's Country then, is not ſo much to be fond of one's Soil or Climate, ſince whole Na⯑tions have conſented to leave thoſe with the greateſt Alacrity. The Switzers, in the Time of Julius Cae⯑ſar, were reſolv'd to leave their barren Rocks for the fertile Vales of the Franche Comté; and the Goths and Vandals, ſome Ages after them, forſook the horrid Climate of the North for the lovely Fields of Italy; both the one and the other rightly judging, that where ever their Fellow-Citizens were, there was likewiſe their Country.

[3] To love one's Country then, is to love one's Country-men; but he who loves his Country-men, muſt love them for ſomething that diſtinguiſhes them from other People: For as he who loves his Friend, loves him for ſomething which makes him that Individual Perſon; ſo he who loves his Coun⯑try-men, loves them for ſomething which makes them that peculiar Nation.

But that which makes a People that peculiar Na⯑tion, and diſtinguiſhes them from all other Nations, is their Cuſtoms and Manners. He then who loves his Country-men, loves their Cuſtoms and Manners. Thus the Macedonians, who with the moſt ardent Alacrity, left the Sun and the Soil of Greece to fol⯑low their young Heroe, rather choſe to part with their Lives, than to forſake the Manners of their Country. But as the more Men are diſtinguiſh'd from other Men by their Manners, the greater and the more extraordinary is the Friendſhip that is profeſt between them; the more a Nation is diſtin⯑guiſh'd by its Manners from other Nations, the grea⯑ter is the Love of its Children to it.

And therefore the wiſeſt of ancient Law-givers took Care, that the People of the Common-wealths which they founded, ſhould be moſt illuſtriouſly di⯑ſtinguiſh'd from other Nations by their Cuſtoms and Manners. Thus did Moſes, thus did Lycurgus di⯑ſtinguiſh the Manners of the Jews and Spartans. The Cuſtoms and Manners of the Jews make a conſidera⯑ble part of the Pentateuch, and whole Treatiſes have been writ of the Manners of the Lacedaemonians. What they did for their real Common-wealths, Plato did for his imaginary one. Plato, in his Laws, ſays Montaigne, is of Opinion, that nothing could be more dangerous to the State which he founded, than the granting Licence to the Youth, to alter their Habits, and change their Geſtures, their Dances, their Exerci⯑ſes, and their Muſick from one to another manner, altering [4] their Judgments and their Opinions, ſometimes one way, and ſometimes another, running mad after Novelties, and doing Honour, and giving Rewards to thoſe who invent, and who introduce them. By which Proceding, their Manners are corrupted, and their moſt ancient and ſacred Laws come to be diſdain'd and contemn'd.

It was the Opinion of thoſe ancient Sages, that the Duration of that Publick Spirit, which they knew to be the Soul of their various Politick Bodies, depended upon the Perpetuity of their Cuſtoms and Manners. And indeed we find that the ruder Nations have always conquer'd the more refin'd, as the Per⯑ſians the Aſſyrians, the Grecians the Perſians, the Ro⯑mans the Grecians, and the Goths and Vandals the Romans. Now the Nations which we call rude, are they which retain their old Cuſtoms.

Since it appears from what has been ſaid, that Publick Spirit flows from the Love of one's Coun⯑try; and that to love one's Country is to love one's Country-men; and that the greater Affection any one has for his Country-men, the fonder he muſt be of their peculiar Cuſtoms and Manners. In order to ſhew in what Condition publick Spirit is at pre⯑ſent among us, we ſhall proceed to enquire into the Difference between the Manners of our Anceſtors and our own.

But before we proceed to the foreſaid Enquiry, it concerns us to anſwer an Objection, which is drawn from the very Nature of Publick Spirit, and from the Definition which has been given of it. Publick Spirit is the ardent Love of one's Country, affecting us with a zealous Concern for its Honour and Inte⯑reſt, and inſpiring us with Reſolution and Courage to promote its Service and Glory. Now the Nations retaining their primitive Cuſtoms are rude and bar⯑barous, and by conſequence weak, obſcure, and miſe⯑rable. The Grecians took their Laws, their Learning, [5] and their Philoſophy in a great meaſure, from the Egyptians; and the Romans theirs from the Grecians; and we have taken our Learning and Philoſophy from the Romans and Grecians: Now who can doubt but that That Learning is at once our Defence and Ornament? How could our Navigation have riſen to ſuch a Height; our Navigation, upon which the Honour and Intereſt of this Iſland depends, but by the means of our Mathematicks, which we have ta⯑ken from the Grecians, and without which we could neither take our Enemies Towns, nor fortify and defend our own?

To which we anſwer:

That 'tis impoſſible any reaſonable Doubt can be made, but that a Nation may take any thing from another, that may improve their Reaſon, their Vir⯑tue, their Intereſt, and their Power. Nay, every Nation is oblig'd by Duty, and by the Dictates of Publick Spirit, to do this: But the Manners and Cuſtoms of which we ſpeak, are ſuch as diſtinguiſh one Nation from another. Now as it is not Reaſon that diſtinguiſhes one Man from another, for that is the ſame in all, it cannot by conſequence be Reaſon that diſtinguiſhes one Nation from another.

That which moſt influences the Generality of Peo⯑ple, and makes the greateſt Impreſſion upon them, is ſomething which is the Object of Senſe; and the Manners and Cuſtoms of Nations, which we ſpeak of, are the Objects of Senſe; ſuch as thoſe which Plato mentions, viz. their Habits, their Motions, their Exerciſes, and their Dances.

'Tis indeed our Duty to emulate the Virtue and Knowledge of other Nations; but by imitating their Manners, which are the Objects of Senſe, we come to affect their Vices. And as every thing which is Senſual takes off from that which is Ratio⯑nal; the aping their Manners, which are the Objects of Senſe, diverts us from imitating thoſe good and [6] thoſe great Qualities, which may augment our Rea⯑ſon, and Intereſt, and Reputation, and Power.

But here another Objection may be eaſily ſtarted; for as to thoſe Manners and Cuſtoms which are the Objects of Senſe, ſome may ask, Are we oblig'd to reſume thoſe of our Anceſtors? And as to Habits particularly, would you adviſe us to follow the ſame Form that was us'd in the Beginning of Henry the Seventh's Reign, which time was before the great Alteration of Manners? Why, no; to adviſe that would be perhaps ridiculous. But tho' I am not for reſuming thoſe of our Anceſtors, why may we not as well now fix upon ſuch as are proper and peculiar to us, as we did in the Time of King CHARLES the Second; when, in a general oppoſition to France, we threw off their Faſhions, and put on Veſts, that we might look the more, ſays the late Lord Hallifax, like a diſtinct People, and be no longer under the Servi⯑lity of Imitation. The whole Paſſage is ſo very re⯑markable, that the tranſcribing it, cannot fail to inform and entertain the Reader. 'Tis in the Chara⯑cter of a Trimmer, written, I ſuppoſe, in the Time of King CHARLES the Second.

Among the other Means us'd for the attaining that End (that is, for the getting all Flanders for the French) the ſending over the Dutcheſs of Orleans was not the leaſt powerful. She was a very welcome Gueſt here, and her own Charms and Dexterity, join'd with other Advantages that might help her Pretenſions, gave her ſuch an Aſcendant, that ſhe could hardly fail of Succeſs. One of the Preliminaries of her Treaty, tho' a trivial thing in it ſelf, yet was conſiderable in the conſequence. About this time a general Humour in Op⯑poſition to France, had made us throw off their Faſhions, and put on Veſts, that we might look more like a diſtinct People, and not be under the Servility of Imitation, which ever pays a greater Deference to the Original, than is conſiſtent with the Equality, all Independent Nations [7] ſhould pretend to. France did not like this Be⯑ginning of ill Humours, at leaſt of Emulation, as wiſely conſidering that 'tis a natural Introduction, firſt to make the World their Apes, that they may afterwards make them their Slaves. It was thought that one of the Inſtructions that Madam brought along with her, was to laugh us out of theſe Veſts; which ſhe perform'd ſo ef⯑fectually, that in a moment, like ſo many Footmen, who had quitted their Maſter's Livery, we took it again, and return'd to our old Service. So that the very Time of doing this gave a very critical Advantage to France, ſince it look'd like an Evidence of returning to their In⯑tereſts, as well as to their Faſhions; and would give ſuch a Diſtaſte of us to our new Allies, that it might facilitate the Diſſolution of the Knot, which tied them ſo within their Bounds, that they were very impatient till they were freed from the Reſtraint.

Thus far the late Marquis of Hallifax. But now if the aping them in one of their Habits was inſtru⯑mental in producing ſo conſiderable an Event, as the breaking the Triple League, (for that was the Knot which his Lordſhip ſpeaks of) an Event, which prov'd ſo detrimental to the Peace and Liberties of Europe; what muſt we not think of that Load of Fo⯑reign, and particularly of French Manners, which have been introduc'd among us, to the Oppreſſion of our own, and the Extinction of Publick Spirit, as we ſhall find in the following Chapter.

CHAP. II.

WE come now to enquire into the Difference that there is between the Manners of our Anceſtors and our own; as for Example, between the Manners that were in the Beginning of Henry the Seventh's Reign, and thoſe of our own Time. We ſhall find that the Difference is almoſt infinite: For Religion, which never fails to influence all the Manners, tho' that of our Fore-fathers was a great deal miſtaken, yet was it very ſincere, and conſe⯑quently a great deal better than none. And it was better for Government, of which Religion is the firſt great Hinge, that they were very much miſta⯑ken in Superſtructures, than if they had boldly and impiouſly ſtruck at Fundamentals. As they were ſincere in their Religion, they were ſound in their Morals: The Men were at once both juſt, and ge⯑nerous, ſincere, faithful, laborious; the Women modeſt, obedient, chaſt, and diligent: Both Men and Women frugal, liberal, temperate, hoſpitable. Their Converſation and their Diet were like their Manners ſimple; their Converſation without Fraud, and their Diet without Artifice. Both their Meat and their Drink, for the moſt part, were of the native Growth of their Country, and the coſtly Juice of the Grape was us'd oftner for Phyſick, than it was for Pleaſure. They ſpent a great deal of their Time in the Country among their Te⯑nants, to whom their Hoſpitable Houſes were always open. Their Tenants liv'd under them at eaſy Rates. They were the Tutelary Gods of the Poor, who in Sickneſs had Phyſick from them, and in Health their Food, and in both their Habitations. Their way of Living in the Country, their Diet, their Air, their Oeconomy, and their rural Diver⯑ſions and Exerciſes confirm'd their Healths, and improv'd [9] their Eſtates, and ſupply'd them both with Strength of Body, and with Vigor of Mind. So that their Minds were ſerene, or their Paſſions mo⯑derate; their Diſtempers neither frequent nor vio⯑lent, and their Children healthful, lively, robuſt and nervous. And whenever they unwillingly went to Town, the Occaſion was important, and the Stay was ſhort; and during their ſhort Continuance there, they ſpent not their Time in ignoble Luxury, or in mad Profuſion, nor made themſelves vile in the Eyes of the World, by frequenting Houſes of pro⯑miſcuous Aſſemblies. Their Converſation lay for the moſt part with their Equals both in Birth and Rank, or with ſuch as ſupply'd the Defect of thoſe by true Nobility of Mind: Or if at any time, upon the account of Buſineſs, or Humour, or Variety, they were familiar with their Inferiors; at the ſame time they took care to ſhew, that they knew how to deſcend with Dignity. Their Converſation was ſincere and ſafe; they were true to their Friends, and juſt to their Enemies; nor did they then, as it were by Conſent, by the means of falſe Dice, ſo⯑phiſticated Wine, and more impure adulterate Friendſhip, make War at one and the ſame time upon one another's Perſons, Eſtates, and Reputa⯑tions. Nor did they ſquander away their Lives in thoughtleſs, inglorious Indolence; they were al⯑ways active for the Good of others, yes nobly active for the Good of their Country, for which they were with ſo much Zeal concern'd, that every Perſon or Thing was dear to them, that could promote its Honour, or its real Intereſt; and every Perſon or Thing deteſtable, that threaten'd Danger or Diſho⯑nour to it: For this Reaſon they were Encouragers of Learning and Arts, of the uſefulleſt Learning and the nobleſt Arts; for the promoting and ſpreading of which, they founded Colleges, and erected Schools. But they had at the ſame time an extreme Contempt [10] for ſoft, luxurious, effeminate Arts; they had an utter Abhorrence for foreign Cuſtoms and foreign Faſhions, and for thoſe who introduc'd them. And their Habits, and the reſt of their Cuſtoms and Man⯑ners were ſuch, as very fairly diſtinguiſh'd their Birth, their Age, their Sex, and their Country. The generous Youths were many of them in thoſe Days what the Duke of Argyle and Sir Richard Temple are now; they eſteem'd it infamous to lie idle at home, while their Country was in danger abroad; and aſſoon as ever they became patient of Arms, they made their own laborious Experience their chief Inſtructor in War; and plac'd their Love and their chief Delight, rather in warlike Steeds, and in beautiful Armour, than in wanton Strumpets and luxurious Feaſts. Therefore to Men like theſe, no Labour was ſtrange or hard, no Preparations of the Enemy dreadful, and no Fortreſs impregnable. Their Virtue was ſufficient to conquer all. The great Contention a⯑mong thoſe Britons was for Glory, and not for Pow⯑er; who firſt ſhould march to the Aſſault, who firſt ſhould mount the Breach, who ſhould have the moſt numerous Spectators of their gallant Actions; here lay their Strife, theſe they accounted their moſt va⯑lu'd Riches, this their Fame, and this their high Nobility. Liberal of Wealth, but Uſurers and Ex⯑tortioners of Fame, they were contented with honeſt Fortunes, but aſpir'd to boundleſs Glory. Who knows not what numerous Armies of the French have formerly been overthrown by ſmall handfuls of anci⯑ent Britons? Our Fore-fathers Glory had tranſcended that of the ancient Grecians, had they like them found but Hiſtorians equal to their Actions. But they who had the moſt Capacity among them always were the moſt employ'd; all exercis'd their Bodies and their Minds together; and all the braveſt and the beſt among them, were leſs willing to relate the Deeds of others, than to have others immortalize [11] their own. And therefore both at home and abroad good Manners were cultivated. And as they had nothing of fordid Intereſt, there could be no Fa⯑ction among them; but Equity and Virtue prevail'd more among them by the Force of Nature, than by the Authority of Law. Their Quarrels and Diſputes were with the Enemies of their Country. The ſole Contention that they had with their Country-men, was who ſhould be moſt virtuous. And ſo by theſe two noble Arts; by Intrepidity in War, and by ex⯑act Juſtice in Peace, they made themſelves and the State illuſtrious.

To paint the Manners of our own Times graphi⯑cally, in ſo little Compaſs as that to which I have con⯑ſin'd my ſelf, would require a much greater Maſter than ever I can pretend to be. To ſay that the Coun⯑ter-part of what I have ſaid of our Anceſtors is true of the Manners of our own Times, is to ſay ſomething, but not the hundredth part of what the Subject will bear. Theſe Manners are ſo various, ſo complicated, ſo prodigious, that one might com⯑pile Volumes of them. There is not a greater dif⯑ference between what London was in Harry the Eighth's Time and what it is at preſent, than there is between the Manners of our Anceſtors and our own. This over-grown Town may be ſaid to be a viſible, palpable Proof of the Growth of the Britiſh Luxury.

For Religion, never was there ſo much of it in Talk, never ſo little of it in Fact: Ten thouſand People make it their Pretext, who are the moſt ex⯑traordinary Hypocrites that ever were in the World; for while they make it their Pretext, they neither care for it, nor would be thought to care for it. At the ſame time that they pretend to contend for the Purity of it, they openly maintain and avow Principles that are deſtructive of the Fundamentals of it; and are ſo far from concealing the Lewdneſs of their Practice, that they make their daily Boaſt of it. [12] This was not all; for the Chriſtian Religion, the very Spirit and Being of which lies in Charity, and the Effects of it, Humility, Meekneſs, Self-denial, Concord, Unity, was made the Pretext for the utter Subverſion of all theſe, and ſetting up in their ſtead Hatred, Malice, Rage, Violence, Tumult, Riot, Rebellion, Confuſion, Anarchy, which are contra⯑ry to the very Soul and Being of all Chriſtianity. And what appears more incredible than all the reſt, it has been reported, that a great many Perſons of Condition have made it their Buſi⯑neſs to ridicule and baffle the Chriſtian Religion, and to introduce Deiſm; though nothing is more plain, than that to extinguiſh Reveal'd Religion, is to introduce Anarchy. For there never was from the Beginning of the World to this Day any man⯑ner of Government without Revelation, pretended or true, and never can be as long as the World en⯑dures. The eſtabliſh'd Religion, which is the firſt great Mover of the publick Manners, being in this Condi⯑tion, the latter muſt needs be in a deplorable State.

Where by the way we may ſee, that St. Evremont was miſtaken, when he ſpeaks of the Alieni appe⯑tens, ſui profuſus, as an extraordinary ſingular Turn and Double in Catiline's Nature; for Salluſt affirms the very ſame thing of all the Roman Youth that he does of Catiline, Rapere, conſumere, ſua parvi pen⯑dere, aliena cupere; Riches made them proud and luxurious, Luxury made them neceſſitous, and Ne⯑ceſſity baſe and venal.

Pride, Luxury and Avarice, the legitimate Off⯑ſpring of Self-Love, which is private Spirit, and which are the firſt Cauſes of all Mutation of Manners, [13] have made ſuch a diſmal Havock in ours, that we have hardly any Remains of thoſe of our Fore⯑fathers. Pride makes our Gentry hate and deteſt Solitude, as where they have no Opportunity to ſet themſelves to Show, and drives them from the Country to Crowds and numerous Aſſemblies; where inſtead of courting true Glory by Heroick Actions abroad, or by wholſome Britiſh Councils at home, many of them endeavour to diſtinguiſh them⯑ſelves by Parties, and ſtudy Faction and Diviſion in order to arrive at Power. For to ſpeak freely and impartially, the Perſons who during theſe late Years have made moſt Tumult and moſt Stir in the State, ſome to aſſert the Prerogative of the Crown, and the Authority of the Church, others to ſecure equal impartial Liberty to the People; have all, to the Reſerve of a very few, under the Shelter of theſe ſpecious Pretexts, contended for their own Power.

Others of our Gentry, who have left their Here⯑ditary Seats in the Country to eſtabliſh themſelves in Town, have endeavour'd to diſtinguiſh themſelves, and to outvie one another by their foppiſh Profuſion, in Eating, Drinking, Dreſs, and Equipage; as if Honour were to be acquir'd by ſhaking Hands with Reaſon and with Common Senſe. And the more extravagant the Vanity of our modern Fops has been, the more they have thought to grow remarkable by extraordinary Trifles, and the more fond have they been of introducing Novelties. And becauſe they themſelves have been ſomething dull of Invention, they have moſt humbly condeſcended to borrow from their mortal Enemies, and have valued themſelves upon French Habits, French Diſhes, and French Dan⯑ces, as Sir Martin does upon his Man's Voice and Muſick.

Since then Publick Spirit flows from the Love of one's Country; and to love one's Country, is to [14] love the Manners of it; it is manifeſt, that we can have very little publick Spirit among us; for we have no Manners of our own to love; our Man⯑ners are thoſe of all the neighbouring Nations. And whereas it was formerly a part of the Roman Wiſ⯑dom, whenever they gave to other People the Right of Roman Citizens, to oblige them to throw off their old Cuſtoms, and become conformable to theirs; we at a time of general Naturalization are throwing off the very Remains of our old Cuſtoms, and embracing thoſe of all the Nations whom we de⯑ſign to receive.

Methinks it ſhould mortify all thoſe who pretend to diſtinguiſh themſelves by introducing ſuch emp⯑ty Trifles among us, to conſider what is become of thoſe, who were at the Head of the Faſhions and Cuſtoms thirty Years ago. Are they not as much forgot, nay are they not more, than Jowler, and Rockwood, and Ringwood, that lead the Duke of York's Fox-hounds then.

But Luxury which began by Pride, grew habitu⯑al by Length of Time, and was then improv'd by ſenſual Pleaſures to an amazing Height.

There would be no end of enumerating the ſeve⯑ral Wines which we uſe to debauch us, or the va⯑rious Diſhes, or their unnatural Mixtures, or their high Aromatick Sauces, thoſe fierce Incendiaries of the Blood and Spirits. The Romans in the Times of their corrupted Manners equall'd us perhaps in theſe: But we are not contented, as they were of old, to rifle the Earth, the Air, and the Sea, to ad⯑vance our ſenſual Pleaſures; we have rais'd Recruits from the very Fire, and made e'en that devouring Element, that in the Time of our Fore-fathers con⯑ſum'd all, but produc'd nothing, fertile of a thou⯑ſand Luxuries; witneſs our Brandy, our Uſque⯑baugh's, our Roſa Solis, our Ratifia's, and all the Fa⯑mily of deſtructive Spirits. Theſe Multitudes of [15] People conſtantly uſe to invigorate themſelves, not conſidering that Nature vigorous and undebauch'd draws the beſt and the nobleſt Spirits from the ſim⯑pleſt Liquors, and the beſt and the moſt congenial of all from Water: For ſhe, like ſome other Me⯑chanicks, operates beſt with her own Inſtruments, and uſes but aukwardly thoſe of Art.

But theſe Spirits are grown as habitual to the Women, as they are to the Men; in whoſe tender Conſtitutions they raiſe fierce Ebullitions and violent Emotions, too rude for the delicate Texture of their Fibres: And for half the Year together, they nei⯑ther take any Air, nor uſe any Exerciſe to remove them. From hence Diſtempers of Body and Mind; from hence an Infinity of irregular Deſires, unlaw⯑ful Amours, Intrigues, and Vapours, and Whim⯑ſies, and all the numerous melancholly Crowd of deep hyſterical Symptoms; from hence it comes to paſs, that the Fruit of their Bodies lies in them like Plants in hot Beds; from hence it proceeds, that our Britiſh Maids, who in the Times of our Henries were not held marriageable till turn'd of Twenty, are now become falling ripe at twelve, forc'd to Pre⯑matureneſs by the Heat of adventitious Fire.

Thus has our Luxury chang'd our Natures in de⯑ſpight of our Climate, and our Girls are ripe as ſoon as thoſe of the Indies. Nor has it only chang'd our Natures, but transform'd our Sexes: We have Men that are more ſoft, more languid, and more paſſive than Women; Men, who like Women are come to uſe Red and White, and part of the Nation are turning Picts again. On the other ſide we have Women, who as it were in Revenge are Maſculine in their Deſires, and Maſculine in their Practices; yes, we have Vices which we dare not name, tho' af⯑ter the great Apoſtle of the Gentiles; and to mention which with an open Frankneſs, would require the Boldneſs of a perfect Saint, or an accompliſh'd Li⯑bertine.

[16] Few Conſtitutions and fewer Eſtates are ſufficient to ſuch Luxury: Yet happy were Men, if the want of Money could mortify or ſubdue their boundleſs De⯑ſires; ſuch a Victory were cheaply purchas'd at the Expence of Ruin. But the Miſchief is, that when the Habit of Luxury is grown inveterate, Indi⯑gence does but exaſperate Deſire, and Deſire makes Indigence inſupportable. And therefore a Perſon who has a Thouſand a Year, and who yet cannot live under two or three Thouſand, is ten times more unhappy, and has ten times more want than an ho⯑neſt Beggar, who could live contentedly on twenty: And therefore this latter does only beg, while the other too frequently robs and ſteals, not indeed from particular Perſons, becauſe that cannot be done without Danger of Infamy, or of corporal Puniſh⯑ment, but from the Publick without any Reluctance, where tho' perhaps the Danger to himſelf may be a thouſand times leſs, the Guilt and the Miſchief are a thouſand times greater. Thus private Luſts are too often ſupported by publick Frauds and Rapines; and the ſupporting of theſe makes him, who be⯑fore he conſum'd his Eſtate, retain'd his Honour and his Integrity, fraudulent, venal, rapacious, cruel, oppreſſive; this makes him rack and grind his Tenants, and diſpoſſeſs his inſolvent Deb⯑tors, ſeizing at once upon Body and Goods, to the irrecoverable Ruin of themſelves and their Fami⯑lies, without Compaſſion or Conſideration of their deplorable and inevitable Misfortunes. And this Inhumanity perhaps is ſhewn, not to get Money to diſcharge his lawful Debts, but to ſatisfy forſooth his Debts of Honour, which by being preferably paid to the other, are chang'd to Debts of Infamy. This ſets him upon encloſing Commons, where buy⯑ing out the Rights of the rich and powerful, he tramples upon the Necks of the poor and impotent, and throws them out of their ancient Dwellings by [17] Violence, while the wretched Inhabitant grows a⯑bandon'd, helpleſs, and ſpiritleſs, and only fit for Servitude. 'Tis this that obliges him to let out his Eſtate to Monopolizers, who are capable of advan⯑cing large Sums to ſupply his Profuſions; one of which Monopolizers perhaps ſhall rent two Thou⯑ſand Pounds per Annum; all which Land perhaps be⯑ing graz'd, is manag'd by a few Servants, that for⯑merly maintain'd no leſs than forty Families. And this one Tenant has been known to be a notorious Papiſt, who has ſold his Hereditary Eſtate, and en⯑ter'd upon this new Commerce, to avoid the paying of double Taxes, and to elude the Power of the Laws.

'Tis nothing but Want, occaſion'd by Luxury, that has rais'd Gaming to ſuch a Height, that it has done more Miſchief than a Plague; for the latter on⯑ly conſumes the preſent People, whoſe Kind is im⯑mortal, and therefore muſt ſpring up again; but the univerſal Extravagance of Gaming diſorders the very Form and Being of Government, eſpecially when 'tis carry'd on with ſuch a Rage, that neither Sex ſets any Bounds to it; but Men and Women, in the Fury of their Paſſion, looſe all Government and all Decorum. The Men forget their Birth, their Rank, their Dignity, their Underſtanding, their Virtue, and herd and converſe with mean Wretches, who are often both Fools and Knaves. Men of the firſt Quality keep worſe Company, than Prince Harry does in Shakeſpear's Play, as a Pick-pocket is more ſcandalous than a High-way-man. 'Tis wonderful to ſee People live ſo much above themſelves, and keep Company ſo much below themſelves; to ſee ſo much Pride with ſo little Subordination.

The Women lock themſelves up at Cards whole Days and Nights ſucceſſively, and forget their natu⯑ral Pleaſure of being ſeen, and of being admir'd; and Avarice gets the better of their Pride, as Luxury [18] in ſome of them had done before; and gets the better of their Pleaſure likewiſe, gets the better of that Pleaſure which is ſo natural to them, and makes them ſhew a ſtronger Paſſion than that which they have for Men. Yet Avarice that drew them from their natural Deſires, ſometimes brings them back again; and ſome of them, like the ancient Germans, play for their Perſons after they have loſt their Pelf.

While both Sexes are thus tranſported by ſo fa⯑tal a Frenzy, where can be any Oeconomy; and without Oeconomy, how few can be good Subjects? Great Eſtates are often conſum'd in a little Time, while Avarice and Profuſion, Pride and Baſeneſs walk Hand in Hand together, and Want ſprings up from the Deſire of getting. But by the ſame degrees that a Man grows indigent at home, he often grows clamorous and turbulent in the State; for none are more clamorous than they, who under a pretence of publick Good, are ſtriving for Power and Place; and none more eagerly contend for Power, than they who are urg'd by their preſſing Neceſſities to make their Markets of the State.

But of all the Faſhions that have been introduc'd among us from abroad, none ſhews ſo deplorable a want of Publick Spirit as the Italian Opera, and the extravagant Encouragement that upon the account of that, is at the Expence of all that is good and great among us given to worthleſs Fools, who can pretend to no Merit but Sound. I had once an In⯑tention of inſerting a long Diſcourſe of it here, but I have omitted the greater part of it, out of fear of offending ſome Perſons, for whom I have conceiv'd a more than ordinary Eſteem, and who are truly eſtimable. They have indeed ſuch good and ſuch great Qualities, and which ſhine ſo truly bright, that they want not the Foil of this ſenſeleſs Encou⯑ragement to ſet them off to the World. How much [19] 'tis to be lamented, that the Preſſure of their Af⯑fairs, their Itch of Novelty, and their Pride of ſhewing their Power at too precious an Expence, diverts them from conſidering the Harm which they do both to themſelves and the Publick; and from reflecting on that ſpecious Pretence which they give to their Enemies to call in Queſtion their very Wiſ⯑dom; that Wiſdom which even their Enemies allow to be ſo conſpicuous in the reſt of their Actions. The Proſperity of the Bad, ſay they, and the Suf⯑ferings of the Good, have made Millions doubt of Providence; when they, who by their Quality, their Rank, or their Fortunes influence and ſupport the Pleaſures of the Town; when theſe diſcourage Me⯑rit, and encourage Fools, may we not believe, ſay they, that they are rather govern'd by Fancy and by Humour than by Reaſon? Muſt we not admire, ſay they, the Profoundneſs of theſe Gentlemens Politicks, when we ſee them forſaking their moſt ſerious Af⯑fairs, for a wanton and a ſenſual Trifle, ſo unwor⯑thy of their Gravity, their Rank and their Dignity, that 'tis not worthy of Men. Manly Pleaſures are rational Pleaſures; mere ſenſual Pleaſures are com⯑mon to Beaſts with Men. The Pleaſure that effemi⯑nate Muſick gives, is a mere ſenſual Pleaſure, which he who gives or he who receives in a ſupreme De⯑gree, muſt be alike unmann'd. A muſical Voice is natural only to ſome Species of Birds, but always accidental to Men; for which Reaſon a Cock Nigh⯑tinghale ſings better than Nicolini, nay or than Sy⯑phace himſelf could, without being taught or with⯑out being gelt for the matter; and there is a better Opera in a Kentiſh Grove in the Month of April, than ever there was at Rome, at Naples, or at Venice. Do not the Politicks of theſe Gentlemen, ſay they, turn Mr. Bays's Politicks out of Ridicule? For is not the Conduct of the two Kings of Brentford, become as it were a Precedent to ſome of our modern Politicians? [20] With what Countenance can they hereafter laugh, when they hear the Brother Monarchs ſay as they deſcend from the Cloud.

For can any one, ſay they, give a tolerable Rea⯑ſon, why a Dance is not as proper a Preparation for Council as a Song? But Mr. Bays's Politicians only proceeded from Dance to Council, and there was an End of the Matter; our modern Politicians advance from Song to ſerious Council, and from ſerious Council before 'tis half ended to Song again; and ſo have made it their Buſineſs of late Years to refine upon Mr. Bays's Politicks.

Where, ſay their Enemies, is the Love which theſe Gentlemen bear to their Country; that Love which has been ſo much boaſted of? And when here we urge in their Behalf the important Services which they have done for it; to this their Enemies reply, that they own indeed that they have done their Country important Services, but that there⯑fore they truly love their Country, is not a good Concluſion: A Man, ſay they, may do another ve⯑ry ſignal Service, and may do it heartily, not be⯑cauſe he loves that other Man, but becauſe 'tis his Intereſt to ſerve him heartily, for, ſay they, there are theſe following remarkable Differences between true Friendſhip and a Commerce of Intereſt.

• 1. A true Friend loves the Manners of his Friend.
• 2. He loves thoſe who are Friends to his Friend.
• 3. He hates his Friend's Enemies.
• 4. He appears zealous on all Occaſions for his Friend's Reputation and Intereſt; to which he never fails to ſacrifice both his Intereſt and his Pleaſure.
• [21] 5. He delights to hear of the good Qualities of his Friend, and hates to hear of his Defects.

On the contrary: 'Tis a ſure Sign, ſay they, of a Commerce of Intereſt,

• 1. When a Man appears to be ſo far from loving the Manners of his Friend, that he plainly ſhews a Diſguſt to them, and affects thoſe of his Friend's Enemy.
• 2. When he neglects thoſe who are dear to his Friend, and does good to his Friend's Enemies.
• 3. When in ſome things he diſcovers a great In⯑difference as to what concerns the Intereſt or the Reputation of his Friend.
• 4. When he delights to hear of his Friend's De⯑fects, and appears to be not at all affected with his good and his great Qualities.
• 5. When he appears to be more touch'd with the moſt trifling Advantages of his Friend's Ene⯑mies, than with the moſt glorious Accompliſh⯑ments of his Friend.
• 6. When he never fails to ſacrifice his Friend to his Humour or his Pleaſure.

But now, ſay they, let us conſider the Manage⯑ment of theſe G [...]ntlemen, who have introduc'd the Opera among us, and who have encourag'd it at this extravagant Rate. The introducing of other fo⯑reign Cuſtoms among us, proceeded as it were from a Combination of all ſorts of People; but a few have introduc'd the Opera, in Deſpight and Con⯑tempt of the reſt. If theſe Gentlemen love their Country; why do they ſacrifice its Intereſt and Re⯑putation for a Song? Why do they ſacrifice theſe noble Arts, which may bring Profit and Renown to it, to inglorious ones, which threaten it with Dan⯑ger and Infamy. What Article has Muſick in the [22] Grecian and Roman Greatneſs? What has it in our own? When they have anſwer'd themſelves, let them give themſelves ſo much Trouble as to look into Bayle's Hiſtorical Dictionary, which is now ſpread throughout Europe: Let them ſee there, how much of the Britiſh Greatneſs is owing to theſe no⯑ble Arts, which they have baniſh'd for ſo wanton a Trifle, that 'tis hardly fit for a Woman's Toy.

Since the Opera in ſo ſhort a time has made the old Britiſh Wit a Jeſt, what Security have we that in twenty Years more, it will not make the old Bri⯑tiſh Courage a Jeſt likewiſe? It has already had that Effect in Italy, and perhaps in France too in ſome de⯑gree. And nothing is more plain, than that Effe⯑minacy is much more compatible with Wit, than it is with Courage. Now is not the Opera, ſay they, an effeminate Trifle? Has it not, where-ever it comes, emaſculated the Minds of Men, and corrup⯑ted their Manners? Has it not made good the Accu⯑ſations of Plato and Cicero? Why then, if theſe Gentlemen love their Country, do they encourage that which corrupts their Country-men, and makes them degenerate from themſelves ſo much? If they are ſo fond of the Italian Muſick, why do they not take it from the Hay-Market to their Houſes, and hug it like their ſecret Sins there? Why do they abuſe the Queen's Authority, to enervate and de⯑banch her People, and to diſcourage her Subjects, ſo contrary to her Majeſty's Royal Intention, and the expreſs Words of her Licence? Where, ſay they, is the Gratitude and Juſtice of preferring Fo⯑reigners to Britons, and in a time of a deplorable War, their Enemies to their Country-men? Is there not an implicit Contract between all the People of every Nation, to eſpouſe one another's Intereſt a⯑gainſt all Foreigners whatſoever? But would not any one ſwear to obſerve the Conduct of theſe Per⯑ſons, that they were protected by Italians in their [23] Liberty, their Property, and their Religion againſt Britons? For why elſe ſhould they prefer Italian Sound to Britiſh Senſe, Italian Nonſenſe to Britiſh Reaſon, the Blockheads of Italy to their own Coun⯑try-men, who have Wit; and the Luxury, and Ef⯑feminacy of the moſt profligate Portion of the Globe to the Britiſh Virtue? Why do thoſe exotick worth⯑leſs Wretches fare deliciouſly every Day, and ſleep in Purple at Night, while our own Proficients in more generous Arts, of Arts which alone can wor⯑thily celebrate the Glories of our Country, and the Triumphs of the Queen's victorious Reign, are ſuf⯑fer'd to be reduc'd to the baſeſt Want? A Play, ſay they, is the Imitation of human Life, in order to its Improvement; and yet that is an Art which is about to be loſt among us. But what is an Opera? 'Tis ſo fooliſh a thing, that 'tis impoſſible to give a ſerious Deſcription of it: 'Tis the Imitation, or rather the Burleſque of Catterwawling, where Love and Battle are wag'd together with a perpetual Squawling. And yet this is the thing that is ſo much encourag'd. O noble Encouragement! What, ſay they, can they anſwer to this, but that they are pleas'd with the Opera, and that they are reſolv'd to ſacrifice all things to their own Pleaſure even the Honour and Intereſt of their Country? Now can any thing in the World ſhew a more deplorable want of Publick Spirit than this? Tho' there was little of it in the Nation before, yet many People ſhew'd ſo much Eſteem for it, at leaſt to pretend to it: But theſe Perſons by ſuch a Declaration mani⯑feſtly boaſt of the want of it; they boldly confeſs, that they are not concern'd for the Intereſt and Ho⯑nour of their Country, and ſo prevail upon all thoſe who can be influenc'd by their Example to throw off any Concern for it.

[24] I am ſorry that theſe Gentlemen ſhould have gi⯑ven their Enemies the ſpecious Pretexts to make Ob⯑jections like theſe: I can only ſay in Defence of ſome of them what is known to all Europe, that not only the Services which they have done the Common Cauſe have been moſt conſpicuous, and moſt illu⯑ſtrious; but that they appear'd ſo early in the De⯑fence of their Country, and at a time, when they had nothing but Ruin to expect from their Zeal, that it was undeniably their Love to their Coun⯑try, and not their Intereſt, which engag'd them in the Defence of it. This I can ſay in the Behalf of three or four Eſpouſers of the Opera; and I could wiſh the few deſerving reſt would apologize for themſelves.

But for the numerous Herd of its Encouragers, who have not the leaſt Pretence to Merit, I would not have them think that any part of the preceding Diſcourſe is addreſt to them. They are Perſons whom 'tis very eaſy to contemn, but very hard to ſatisfy, and leaſt of all with Reaſon. 'Tis their Intereſt that the reigning Diverſion of the Town ſhould be that, of which they are often better qua⯑lified to judge, than they are who have Underſtand⯑ing: They are not only pleas'd with the Opera forſooth, they value themſelves upon it, as their Brother Sir Martin did upon his Man's Voice and Muſick. If they were the only Perſons concern'd, I believe no one would give himſelf a Moment's trou⯑ble to put them out of Conceit with themſelves, and with their darling Bawble. A Rattle of one ſort or other is as neceſſary to keep Fools in Order, as it is Children. And therefore let them e'en go on to be us'd as they have been, that is, like ſo ma⯑ny Bartlemew Cockes's, to have the Eunuchs tickle their Ears with a Straw, while they pick their Pockets.

[25] The Ladies, with humbleſt Submiſſion, ſeem to miſtake their Intereſt a little in encouraging Opera's; for the more the Men are enervated and emaſculated by the Softneſs of the Italian Muſick, the leſs will they care for them, and the more for one another. There are ſome certain Pleaſures which are mortal Enemies to their Pleaſures, that paſt the Alps about the ſame time with the Opera; and if our Subſcrip⯑tions go on, at the frantick rate that they have done, I make no doubt but we ſhall come to ſee one Beau take another for Better for Worſe, as once an impe⯑rial harmonious Blockhead did Sporus.

If any one thinks I have been too ſevere, let him only conſider, what Shakeſpear would have ſaid, if he had been now alive. He had not the thouſandth part of the Provocation that we have, and yet he could not forbear crying out, as it were with a pro⯑phetick Spirit.

And thus we have gone through this Draught of the Publick Manners, which is very far from being writ with Malice, or being deſign'd a Libel upon the Britiſh Nation: He who wrote it, loves his Country too well for that; and if he believes the Manners of our Britons corrupt, he believes thoſe of ſome Southern Nations to be ſtill more degenerate. But they have already loſt their Liberty by their Cor⯑ruption; ours is yet entire, and in no Danger at preſent; and it is poſſible for us, if we will mend our Manners, to tranſmit it to our lateſt Poſterity.

[26] However, if I have either exaggerated any thing, or in ſome Particulars have been my ſelf miſtaken, or have been wrongly inform'd by others, I hope the Reader will pardon my Errors for the Sake of my good Intention: For this being a general Satyr, he who wrote it cannot be ſuppos'd to act by Malice or Paſſion. Thoſe Satyrs indeed which deſcend to mention particular Perſons, under Pretence of re⯑forming the Publick, often attack thoſe particular Perſons, and ſometimes the very Miniſters, out of Malice, or Paſſion, or Intereſt. But no Man can bear Malice againſt a Nation, or be angry with a World. He who wrote this is a hearty Lover of his Country; but we have ſhewn above, that he who loves his Country, loves his Country-men, all his Country-men; for he who pretends to affect a Part only, loves only himſelf.

As he who wrote this loves his Country, he will be pleas'd with any Adminiſtration under which it flouriſhes: He is very far from having any reaſon to be angry with the Miniſters; nor if he had, would he ſuffer his Paſſion to get the better of his Reaſon, but would let his private Reſentment be loſt in the publick Tranquillity, and his private Sufferings in the Happineſs of his Country.

Nor are here any bitter envenom'd Reflections upon private particular Perſons, to ruin their Re⯑putations, and undermine their Intereſts. He who writes this, looks upon himſelf as one, who has nei⯑ther Miſſion nor Authority to expoſe any one to pub⯑lick Cenſure; nor can any thing excuſe the doing it, but a Certainty, that the Publick will ſuffer if it is not done.

As this is a general Satyr, and cannot be the ef⯑fect either of Paſſion or Malice, a general Benefit muſt be the chief Deſign of it. The Good which it carries with it, is equally intended to all; even thoſe who happen to be hit by it, are deſign'd to [27] be oblig'd among the reſt, and ſuffer only by Ac⯑cident.

And 'tis for this very Reaſon that a general Satyr is preferable to what is particular, not only becauſe the Deſign is more generous, of obliging all, and offending none, but becauſe there is a greater pro⯑bability of its attaining the End to which it directs its Aim, which is the Reformation of the Reader: For the Pleaſure which we find that the Generality of Mankind takes in particular Satyr, is a certain Sign that the Publick reaps little Benefit from it; for few are willing to apply thoſe Faults to them⯑ſelves, for which they ſee any particular Perſon ex⯑pos'd to Contempt and Infamy. Men will more willingly acknowledge Faults, in the committing which they are join'd with Company ſufficient to keep them in Countenance.

Yet are particular Satyrs, if they are juſt Satyrs, preferable by much to Lampoons or Libels: That only can be call'd a juſt Satyr, whoſe Cenſures are always true; but that which endeavours to decry true Merit, out of Malice, or Paſſion, or Intereſt, is in ſpight of popular Applauſe a Lampoon, and an in⯑famous Libel.

Yet ſeveral Lampoons, both in Verſe and in Proſe, are writ with Wit and Art; and theſe are much better than thoſe thouſand Extempore ones, which are hourly utter'd by Club and Coffee-Houſe Gen⯑tlemen, Petty Merchants of ſmall Conceits, as my late Lord Hallifax calls them; who, ſays he, are always aiming at Wit, and generally make falſe Fire.

Tho' perhaps no one is more truly pleas'd by the Charms of a beautiful Imagination than my ſelf, yet I have always been of Opinion, that there is no one Quality of a human Mind, that makes a Man a more impertinent extravagant Blockhead, than that which they call Wit, when 'tis not corrected by [28] good Senſe, and reſtrain'd by Judgment, as a Doſe of Mercury uncorrected and unfix'd naturally cau⯑ſes Driveling. And that which they call Wit in Converſation without good Senſe, and without Judg⯑ment, is generally without good Nature likewiſe, and vents it ſelf in Slander.

Slander is a Vice which is mightily in vogue at preſent; a ſpurious Brat begot by Pride upon Ma⯑lice, ſo luſty and vigorous a Baſtard, that it often thrives by the ſame means which are us'd to de⯑ſtroy it.

As 'tis begot clandeſtinely, 'tis nurs'd for a time as ſecretly, till it comes at laſt to be openly main⯑tain'd by the Pariſh. 'Tis a Creature, of which they who begot it are afraid or aſham'd, while they who maintain it are both proud and fond of it, till like the young Cuckow brought up by the Hedge-Sparrow, it comes to prey on its Foſter-Father.

'Tis the univerſal Corruption of Manners that makes this Vice ſo current: 'Tis that which re⯑commends pitiful vile Mechanicks to Perſons of Rank and Quality; recommends even Wretches, who have no Accompliſhment either of Art or Na⯑ture, and who are diſtinguiſh'd by nothing but their being univerſal Tale-bearers, and publick Scaven⯑gers of Scandal.

[29] For as Stocks are jobb'd by People in the City, who have no real Stock but their Impudence; ſo Slander is chiefly carry'd on in the Suburbs by Peo⯑ple, who have no Reputation themſelves, and never can have any; by Wretches, who are not only below Fame but Infamy; by thoſe, who will no more be remembred three Days after they are dead, than Flies of the laſt Seaſon: And as, if a Deſign were ſet on foot for levelling Eſtates, all the Beg⯑gars in the Nation would come the ſooneſt into it, and be the deepeſt concern'd in it; ſo in this Project for levelling Reputations, the Scum and Off⯑ſcouring of things is moſt deeply engag'd.

To degrade Merit is their principal Aim; for we have a kind of Oſtraciſm for Reputations eſta⯑bliſh'd by implicit Conſent among us; and nothing is more dangerous than to be too deſerving; and no Deſert is become more unpardonable, than that of the Man who does great Services to the Publick. So that a Briton who does great and publick Actions, muſt have a more than Roman Spirit: For Romans, who acted for the Good of their Country, recom⯑mended themſelves to Romans; but Britons, who have done moſt for the Good of their Country have made thouſands of their Country-men their irrecon⯑cileable Enemies.

This Vice is chiefly carry'd on by Wretches, who are ſo worthleſs and ſo thoughtleſs, that they have neither Senſe nor Thought to conſider, that to bark at Objects ſublime and illuſtrious, is the Quality of a Dog and a Slanderer; that to call a Man Knave or Fool makes him neither, but if he is neither, it makes him who calls him ſo moſt emphatically one or the other. That Slander is grown ſo faſhionable and ſo frequent, that it does not always hurt the Slander'd, but that in the Opinion of a Man of com⯑mon Senſe it always hurts the Slanderer; that it can only be the Intereſt of Men, who want common [30] Honeſty, and of ſuch who ſeem to be ſent into the World on purpoſe to be the Tools of theſe; but that 'tis the undoubted Intereſt of all Men of Honour and of Merit to defend the Slander'd.

That he who ſlanders any one wants not only common Honeſty, but even common Courage: The firſt, becauſe he condemns a Man whom he does not know to be guilty; the ſecond, becauſe he baſely murders a Man's Reputation behind his Back, when 'tis not in his Power to defend himſelf. If a Judge ſhould condemn any one to die, without po⯑ſitive Proof or moſt convincing Preſumption, and eſpecially without hearing him, what a dreadful Out-cry would that formal Murder occaſion? How deteſtable then are they, who upon the moſt frivo⯑lous Appearances condemn and execute as far as in them lies, the Reputations of their deareſt Friends and Acquaintance; thoſe Reputations, which are dearer to every good Man, even than Life it ſelf.

Thus much to the Men, whoſe Buſineſs it is to carry on ſo odious a Vice. I am ſorry that 'tis requiſite to ſay a Word to the Women; who by be⯑ing inſtrumental in carrying on this Vice againſt the Men, have often given too provoking Occaſions for terrible Retalations. Now Slander bears infi⯑nitely more hard upon a Woman, than it can do upon a Man; for a Man may retrieve the Reputa⯑tion of his Courage, his Juſtice, his Honour, or his Eſtate; but a Woman may as ſoon recover her loſt Maiden-head as her loſt Reputation.

In fine, as the Foundation both of inventing and of ſpreading Slander, is in the corrupted Manners of him who invents or propagates it; it follows that Slander being now almoſt univerſal, and raging in all its Height, the Corruption of Manners muſt be likewiſe almoſt univerſal, and at its greateſt Height.

[31] Thus have we endeavour'd to lay before the Rea⯑der a Draught of the Manners of theſe Times, and to place it in as true a Light as we could, that the Reader being convinc'd that Publick Spirit depends upon the Publick Manners, and that we have loſt the Manners of our Anceſtors without making choice of any others peculiar to us, and that we have in⯑troduc'd into this Iſland all manner of foreign Cu⯑ſtoms and foreign Luxury, may likewiſe be ſatis⯑fied that there is very little publick Spirit among us.