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THE HISTORY OF The Robinhood Society. IN WHICH THE ORIGIN OF THAT ILLUSTRIOUS BODY of MEN is traced; The Method of managing their DEBATES is ſhewn; The MEMOIRS of the various Members that compoſe it are given; And ſome ORIGINAL SPEECHES, as Specimens of their Oratorical Abilities, are recorded. Chiefly compiled from Original Papers.

I will a round, unvarniſh'd Tale deliver;
—nothing extenuate,
Nor ſet down aught in Malice.
SHAKESPEARE.

LONDON: Printed for JAMES FLETCHER and Co. at the Oxford Theatre in St. Paul's Church-Yard. M.DCC.LXIV.

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TO THE Truly Honourable and Highly Reſpectable BODY of MEN, CALLED, The Robinhood Society, THIS HISTORY, WITH The moſt perfect ADMIRATION of Their UNRIVALLED ABILITIES, AND With the Profoundeſt Reſpect, Is moſt ſubmiſſively DEDICATED, BY

The Author.

TO THE PUBLIC.

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SEVERAL Pamphlets having from Time to Time been publiſhed concerning the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, ſome in Vindication of it, and others againſt it, the public Attention has been awakened; and many have deſired to know the [vi] Origin of this Society, and to be acquainted with its Proceedings, from it firſt Formation to its preſent State. But no Work hitherto printed, has related theſe Particulars. Indeed, they have all been ſo remarkably ſilent on theſe Heads, that, like the brave Iriſhman, who, born of a common Proſtitute, and unable to learn who was his real Father, concluded he had none at all, many People imagine, either that this Society had no Origin, or that it is ſo obſcure and uncertain, that no Traces of it can now be diſcovered.

BUT this is a Miſtake. A true and impartial Review of theſe [vii] Particulars may be expected in theſe Memoirs; and it is not doubted, but it will amply gratify the Curioſity of the Reader. If he deſires to know from whence theſe Materials have been drawn, I ſhall inform him, that they were from Manuſcripts of my Grandfather and Father; the former of whom was not only a Member, but the Promoter of ‘"THE SOCIETIE FOR FREE AND CANDYD ENQUIRIE,"’ for ſo were they at firſt called; and indeed, they have retained the Title ever ſince.

AS to the Hiſtory of the Members of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, for 1764, that, indeed, is intirely [viii] my own Work. I have been obliged to no one for Anecdotes, but to the Members themſelves; and I have, with no ſmall Pains and Induſtry, as well as Time and Expence, collected from them ſuch Accounts as the Reader will here meet with. Indeed, in a Work of this Nature, ſome Anecdotes, not founded on Facts, muſt be expected; Anecdotes invented by the Envy or Vanity of the Relater. But it is hoped, the Number of theſe is but few: For the Author, or rather Compiler, has, when he ſuſpected the Truth of any Relation, not contented himſelf with having ſomething new to ſay, as too many of our Biographers and Hiſtory-Writers [ix] do; but has made the moſt diligent Enquiries of different People, to whom the ſeveral Members were intimately known, and ſome as School-fellows; and from them he has learnt their real Parentage and Education, Life, Character and Behaviour: So that, in general, theſe Memoirs may be deemed as authentic and genuine, as, perhaps, any that have been ever given to the World, though they may not be ſo gaudily dreſſed.

THE Speeches I have given on different Subjects, as Specimens of the Members Abilities, are, in the ſtrict Senſe of the Word, Original; for they were taken [x] down in Short-Hand, at the very Time they were ſpoken.

THE Reader may now diſcern what he has to expect in this Work. And, without the Imputation of Vanity, I think I may affirm, that the Public will be both inſtructed and entertained in the Peruſal of it. The ROBINHOOD SOCIETY has, of late, greatly attracted the Notice of the World; and is now ſo much frequented, that, almoſt every Monday Night, Numbers are robbed of the Entertainment they expect, becauſe it is ſo crowded, that no more can be admitted.

[xi] TO thoſe who have often attended the Society, and are acquainted with the Nature of it, the Author of theſe Memoirs appeals for a Character of Candour and Impartiality; and he is confident they will allow, that his Deſcription of the Debates is true and faithful, his Portraits of the Members juſt and ſtriking, and the Speeches he has ſelected authentic and original.

HE will only add farther concerning this Work, that he believes no other MSS. but thoſe he has in his Poſſeſſion, containing the Origin of the Society and its Proceedings, till it was removed [xii] to the Butcher-Row, are now extant.

AS then no other Perſon is able to trace the Original of the Society, and relate its Progreſs for no leſs a Term than 151 Years, (for ſo long it has ſubſiſted) he doubts not but his complete Hiſtory will favourably be received.

THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.

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THE Engliſh have been characteriſed by many ingenious Foreigners, as a People that delight greatly in Clubs and Aſſemblies; which they impute to a ſocial and good-natured Diſpoſition, and to a Love of Science. It is owing to this Diſpoſition, and to this affection for Knowledge, that there is ſcarce a Town or Village in our Kingdom, but [2] what has its Clubs, or Places of nocturnal Entertainment; where, after the Fatigues of the Day, Men of various Occupations in Life, meet to diſſipate the Gloom which has been ſpread by Study, or any intenſe Application; and, by a mutual Communication of Sentiment, either in Flaſhes of Wit, or ſolid Argument, to improve their Judgments, and entertain their Imaginations.

SUCH is the favourable Point of View in which judicious Foreigners behold our natural Propenſity of forming and frequenting Clubs; and ſuch their Deſcription of the good Effects reſulting from them.

BUT, I am afraid, that though ſome Clubs produce theſe Effects, the Generarality of them produce the Reverſe; and may be deemed Receptacles for the Idle and the Diſſolute, where Modeſty is thrown aſide, like their Great Coats, and where Impiety, Obſcenity, and Licentiouſneſs prevail to the greateſt Degree; where a Love of Lazineſs, and an Averſion to honeſt Induſtry are contracted; where the keeping ill Hours is encouraged, to the great Detriment of Individuals, and to the Prejudice of the Community; and [3] where, in ſhort, no uſeful Subject employs their Thoughts or Tongues, but mere Noiſe and Nonſenſe, obſcene Songs or Tales, and large Draughts of Liquor, form their Savage Happineſs.

BUT, however true this Deſcription may be of Clubs in general, it cannot be ſaid, that the particular Kind of Club, reſembling that of the ROBINHOOD, is of their Nature, or produces their Effects: Thoſe are Drinking Clubs; this is a Diſputing one. At thoſe Places, Men meet to feed their Bodies; at this, they aſſemble to feed their Minds. At thoſe, Intoxication is very frequent; at this, very rare. I could heighten the Contraſt, but it is needleſs. The Peruſal of theſe Sheets will ſufficiently acquaint the Reader with the Nature and Tendency of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, and of Diſputing Clubs in general; and therefore, without ſtriving to biaſs his Judgment, or preclude his Remarks by any of my own, I ſhall proceed to my Account of ‘"THE SOCIETY FOR FREE AND CANDID ENQUIRY",’ from its infant State, to its preſent mature Growth, at the ROBINHOOD and LITTLE JOHN, in Butcher-Row.

[4] IN the Year 1613, when that fine Piece of Work, equally honourable and uſeful, the New River was completed, Sir HUGH MYDDLETON, who had a great Affection and Regard for my Grand-father, WILLIAM G********, Eſq being in Company with him one Day, lamented it as a great Infelicity, and a vaſt Obſtruction of human Knowledge, that light and trivial Subjects alone generally found Admittance into polite Companies, while important and weighty ones were excluded. My Grand-father acquieſced with him in Sentiments, and propoſed it as his Opinion, that a Society might be formed to conſiſt of a certain Number of Gentlemen, of liberal Education and acquired Accompliſhments, to meet Weekly, at ſome convenient Room, to diſcourſe on Subjects that would contribute to their mutual Inſtruction and Entertainment. Sir HUGH declared it was a lucky Suggeſtion, and he would think of it at Leiſure, and let him know his Opinion of the Practicability of putting ſuch a Scheme into Execution the next Time he ſaw him.

THE Intimacy that had, for many Years, ſubſiſted between Sir HUGH and my Grandfather, [5] would not permit their being abſent for any conſiderable Time after this Meeting, and the Starting of a Subject which had ſuch Charms for both. My Grand-father was a good Speaker, and no bad Writer. In the juvenile Part of his Life, he had been engaged in mercantile Buſineſs in a very extenſive Manner; and conducting his Affairs with Skill and Prudence for about ſeven-and-twenty Years, he had amaſſed no leſs a Sum than forty-ſeven thouſand Pounds; with which, contrary to a great Number of Merchants, being contented, he retired from Buſineſs, and lived on the Intereſt of his Fortune. As to Sir HUGH, he was a Man of extreme good natural Parts, heightened and embelliſhed by the Acquiſition of the uſeful and ornamental Parts of Learning; and having, at the Expence of the greateſt Part of an opulent Fortune, completed his darling Project of bringing Water from Ware, through various Turnings and Windings, to London, thereby ſupplying that great Metropolis with one of the greateſt Neceſſaries of Life, he had now Leiſure to conſider of other Employments, and partake of other Amuſements, not leſs ſuited to his Taſte, and for which he was not leſs qualified. At the Meeting [6] my Grand-father and Sir HUGH had at the oldeſt Tavern in London, the London Stone, in Cannon-Street, over a Bottle of ſound Red Port, and, while ſmoaking a Pipe of the new-found Plant, Tobacco, (which had been introduced into England by Sir WALTER RALEIGH, but about twenty-five Years before) they diſcourſed at large of the Advantages that might be reaped from a Society of judicious Perſons, meeting once a Week to debate on Subjects of Importance. For an Account of the Inſtitution and Nature of the Society, I am indebted to a Folio Book, which I have now in my Cuſtody, in my Grand-father's own Hand-writing, and from which I have tranſcribed the following Paſſages.

IT was here (ſays the good old Man) that wee fully diſcourſed of the Affaire. Sir HUGH declared the Number of Perſons that were to compoſe our Societie ought to be limitted, and that they ſhoulde not exceede twentie; and in fine, wee both agreed in this Point, that wee woulde forthwith looke out and ſearch for proper Perſons to belonge to the Societie, and whoſe Names wee woulde enter into a little Booke: And after that we had gained our propoſed [7] Number of Perſons, which wee alſoe agreed ſhoulde be noe more than twentie, nor leſs than twelve, wee would aſſembel oureſelves once in a Week, at a Houſe of one of the Societie, and the next Week, at the Houſe of another, and ſo on 'till wee had been at each other's Houſe. After wee had ſpoken of theſe Things, and fully agreed thereon, as I have here amply related, wee parted; Sir HUGH going to a Countrie Houſe he had latelie rented at Mile-end, and I going to mine in Norfolk-Street.
ABOUT one Moneth after this, wee had gotten the Number of fifteen Perſons, all of whome were Men of goodlie Parts and diſcreete and worthie Conduct; and at the Intreatie of my verie good Friende Sir HUGH, wee met all of us at the London-Stone, of a Wedneſday Night, to write downe our Names in a Booke, and to abide by, and agree to, a few Articles, which were drawne up by Sir HUGH, which conteined all the Rules that wee would be ſubject to, and which I think meet here to ſet down.

[8] LET not the Reader think me too circumſtantial for giving him the Articles which this Society of Diſputants drew up and ſigned: Any Thing relative to the Inſtitution of a Society which has ſince that Time made ſuch Noiſe in the World, cannot be unintereſting; on the contrary, it may afford greater Pleaſure to a curious Perſon, than the Peruſal of the trifling Anecdotes that the moſt eminent Hiſtory-Writers often ſwell their Works with, or even than many Papers that are obtruded on the World by a certain Society, who yet deem themſelves great Philoſophers.

ARTICLES and RULES Which WEE, The undernamed PERSONS, Do hereby agree to abide bye, and to performe.

Firſt, THAT we do agree to compoſe and forme a Societie, which ſhall be ſtyled and called, [9] THE SOCIETIE FOR FREE AND CANDID ENQUIRIE.

Second, That wee will aſſemble and meet at each other's Houſes or Places of Abode Weeklie; that is to ſaye, at the Houſe of Sir HUGH MYDDLETON, the firſt Weeke, at the Houſe of THOMAS VENNE, Eſquier, the ſecond Weeke, and at the ſucceeding thirteene Gentlemens Houſes, whoſe Names are hereunder ſet, in the Order they there appeare, the thirteene next Weekes.

Third, That the Daie of our Meetinge ſhall be a Mondaie, and to meete at Seven of the Clock in the Eveninge, and to breake up at Tenne of the Clocke.

Fourth, That to anſwer the Ende of our Intentions, wee do agree, each and all of us, to write downe ſuch uſeful Queſtions as maye from Time to Time occur to us, which ſhall be [10] copyed into a Booke, and ſhall bee debated on in the Order wherein they are ſet downe.

Fifth, That the firſt Thinge to bee done every Mondaie Night ſhall be to read the Queſtion which is to bee diſcourſed off that Eveninge, and then everie one that deſireth to ſpeake to it maie do it, but he ſhall not bee allowed to ſpeake more than ten Minutes, nor ſhall he ſpeake again 'till it cometh to his Turn.

Sixth, That wee do agree that noe Queſtion that is profeſſedlie on, or ſavoureth of Religion or Affaires of State bee propoſed or diſcourſed off; for wee all are of Opinion, that the firſt is of divine Origin, and pure and undefyled, as ſet forth in our excellent Liturgie, and the taking on us ſuch unwarrantable Libertie as to cenſure or to call in Queſtion the Conduct of thoſe whom the Kinge hath appointed to manage the Affaires of [11] his Kingdome, is not a fit Matter for us to handel, nor a proper Objecte for the Enquiryes of ſtudious Men, who wante onlie to cultivate and to mende their reaſonable Faculties. Beſides, it is flying in the Face of the Kinge himſelf, whoſe ſole Buſineſs it is to ſee his Kingdome hath proper and fit Miniſters to manage the Affaires thereoff, and in Effect cenſuring him that he doth not ſee public Affaires better conducted.

Seventh, That it ſhall and maye bee lawfull to and for any Member of this Societie to propoſe any Perſon to belonge to it, but that the Name of ſuch Perſon ſhall be delivered in Writinge to all the preſent undernamed and ſubſcribinge Members; but no more than five ſhall bee admitted this preſent Yeare.

In Witneſſe of theſe our Articles, Rules, and Agreements, we have hereunto ſet our Names in our own Hand-Writinge [12] this fiveteenth Daie of the Moneth of October, and in the Yeare of our Lord 1613.

  • HUGH MYDDLETON.
  • THOMAS VENNE.
  • WILLIAM G********.
  • JOSEPH LEWIS.
  • SAMUEL READ.
  • JOHN DOWDING.
  • SAM. COOKE.
  • BEN. JERVIS.
  • RICHARD PALMER.
  • WILL. SOMERVILLE.
  • WILL. WHITAKER.
  • JOHN WHITAKER.
  • JOHN SLADE.
  • RICHARD READ.
  • JOHN GRANT.

[13]THE firſt Meeting which this Society of Gentlemen had, was the Monday ſubſequent to the Drawing up and Signing the foregoing Articles, being the 20th Day of October, 1613. At Seven o'Clock in the Evening, preciſely, they all met at Sir HUGH MYDDLETON'S Town Houſe, which was in the Strand; and, after congratulating each other on their propoſed Undertaking, and drinking two Glaſſes of Wine each, Sir HUGH got into a large Elbow Chair, and officiated as Preſident, the reſt being ſeated in common Chairs, placed there for that Purpoſe.

SIR HUGH then read the Queſtion to them, for their Night's Debate; which was as follows:

Whether the common Methods of educateing Youth, in this Nation, are not very defective, both with reſpecte to Morals, and a Knowledge of the Engliſh Tongue?

THIS Queſtion, the Reader will perceive, was a very good one, and worthy the Conſideration of the moſt reſpectable Society. I might be thought unpardonably [14] prolix, were I to tranſcribe the long Account which my Grand-father has given of the Debate upon this Queſtion, and the many learned and ingenious Arguments produced by the ſeveral Members; yet it would be equally unpardonable, to omit the capital Arguments, and paſs over in Silence the Manner in which this firſt Queſtion of The Society for Free and Candid Enquiry, was handled.

Sir HUGH, after he had read the Queſtion, aſked if any of the Gentlemen preſent choſe to deliver his ſentiments of it to the Company. On which Mr. WHITAKER got up, and in a learned Speech pointed out the many errors, which, he apprehended, prevailed in the then defective Syſtem of Education. He expatiated on the Folly of the major Part of Parents of the lower Claſs, in ſending their Sons to School, to learn many Parts of Education, which it was almoſt impoſſible, and highly improbable, from their ſituation in life, they could poſſibly ever have any Occaſion for. He then pointed out the erroneous Methods that Schoolmaſters in general made Uſe of, to introduce Youth to the Knowledge of the Languages; diſtinguiſhed with great Propriety and Preciſion, the various Qualifications that [15] ought to centre in that Perſon, that took on him the arduous Buſineſs of faſhioning the juvenile Mind, and inſtilling the Principles of Science; and ſhewed how theſe various Qualifications ought to be exerted towards thoſe committed to their Care, if any Fruit was to be expected from the young Nurſery. He then conſidered the Buſineſs of Education, ſo far as it related to the Morals of Youth: And here he lamented, that the moſt important ſhould be the moſt neglected Branch of Education; that the inculcating the great Duties of Religion and Morality, ſhould be look'd on as of ſuch ſmall moment, as to be totally diſregarded; and, in fine, that the Syſtem of Education in general, left the Minds of Youth unfurniſhed with real Knowledge, and their Hearts uninfluenced by the great Principles of Chriſtianity.

MY Grand-father enforced this Speech of Mr. WHITAKER by ſome additional Arguments, and placing the others in a ſtronger and more ſtriking Light. But the beſt, and moſt remarkable Speech, is that which was made by Mr. JERVIS, who was, as appears by my MS. at that time poſſeſſed of a Place at Court, which produced him upwards of thirteeen hundred [16] Pounds a Year; an immenſe Sum at that time! This Speech, in my Opinion, is ſo good, and the Complaint he makes of the defective Methods of Education in thoſe Days, ſo well adapted to the modern Method of Education, that, I think, I cannot do better than give his Speech at full Length.

THIS Queſtion, Mr. Preſident, is certainly of the laſt Importance, and worthy of the moſt ſerious Conſideration. The forming of the Minds of Youth, and implanting in them ſuch Seeds as, when ripened to Maturity, may bring forth much good Fruit, is, in my Opinion, of more Moment than any other Subject about which we may intereſt ourſelves; and therefore deſerves to be fully ſpoken to.

THE human Mind has been compared, by antient Writers, to a Piece of Wax, that may be moulded to any Form, and is capable of receiving any Impreſſion, while it is young and pliable; but when it grows old and ſtiff, it is with the utmoſt Labour, and at a vaſt Expence of Time, that we can imprint the Shape of what we deſire, on it. [17] From hence we may and muſt infer, that it is the Duty of every Parent to train up his Child to ſuch Learning, as may in time qualify him to be a worthy Member of that Community to which he belongs: And let it be conſidered too, that Youth is the beſt Time for doing this, for the Reaſon before aſſigned, and alſo, becauſe ſuch Principles both of Religion, Morality and Learning, which are inculcated, or, as it were, engraved on his Heart, will grow with his Growth, and ſtrengthen with his Strength, and at length will be written on the Tablet of his Soul, in ſuch deep and legible Characters, as Time itſelf ſhall not be able to eraſe. Conſider too, Gentlemen, it is far eaſier to learn good things, than to unlearn bad ones, which, I apprehend, there is ſome Neceſſity of doing, according to the preſent Syſtem of Education prevailing in this Kingdom, and which I ſhall now endeavour to prove.

IN the firſt Place then, I think, that the true End of Education is both groſly neglected, and manifeſtly perverted by the Profeſſors of it, not duly conſidering the Difference of Genius in Boys, [18] the different Conditions of Life in which they are placed, and the different Profeſſions and Trades they are deſigned for. Education is like a vaſt Baſon of fine Water, which belongs to a large Town, and to which every Inhabitant has an equal Right; but every one that would receive the Advantages of it, muſt furniſh Conduit-Pipes to direct it to his own Houſe, in like Manner as our worthy Preſident firſt planned, and has now compleated, the Current of Ware Water, to the Houſe of every Inhabitant in London. But if our Profeſſors of Education do not duly conſider the Capacities of thoſe intruſted to their Care, but furniſh the Heads of intended Taylors, Barbers, and Shoemakers, with ſuch Branches of Learning, as are not only ornamental, but abſolutely neceſſary in Divines, Lawyers, Phyſicians, or Gentlemen of Rank, who want to make a Figure in the World, then Education may be truly ſaid, like Water running to Waſte, though extremely good in itſelf, to be of no real ſervice to any one, but rather a Misfortune to the educated Perſon; ſince the Length of Time employed in gathering Chaff, [19] might have been much better employed in reaping Corn; by which, I mean ſuch Parts of Education as are neceſſary for ſuch particular Perſon.

When a Perſon, like that I have been deſcribing, arrives to an Age, when Reaſon begins to exert itſelf, and to blaze forth with a conſiderable Degree of Luſtre, he finds he has miſerably miſpent his Time, in learning Things which can poſſibly be of no Service to him, and neglecting thoſe which are neceſſary to his going through life with Credit to himſelf, and Utility to Society in general. Before he can furniſh himſelf with Pieces of uſeful Knowledge, it is neceſſary that he diveſt himſelf of ſome Prejudices which he muſt have contracted, and ſome Things which he muſt have learnt, while at School: And it is not leſs difficult to do theſe Things, than to gain new and uſeful Acquiſitions, in travelling the Road of Science, and rambling in the Fields of Learning. Since then Subſtances, not Shadows, Things, not Sounds, deſerve the Attention of a wiſe Man, it is highly neceſſary, that Wiſdom and real Learning, ſhould be taught in our public Schools and Seminaries. [20] But it may be aſked, what are Wiſdom and real Learning? I anſwer, a thorough Knowledge of the Principles of the Chriſtian Religion, and of the great Duties of Morality, and a competent Knowledge of the Engliſh Tongue. But neither of theſe, I apprehend, are taught. The dead Languages only engroſs the Attention, and excite the Care of Tutors and Schoolmaſters: And, indeed, if a Knowledge of thoſe Languages would facilitate the Attainment of Wiſdom itſelf, and mend the Morals of thoſe that learn them, it would be a uſeful and an ornamental Part of Education to every one; not only to the Prince, but Peaſant; not only to the Nobleman or Divine, but to the Tradeſman and Artificer. But I will be bold to ſay, theſe Things are not ſo, nor do they produce theſe effects. A Knowledge of the Languages, is not Knowledge itſelf, but a Key only, that being in the Hands of People of Rank and Fortune, or thoſe of the learned Profeſſions, may by them be made an Inſtrument to unlock and open the Cheſts of Knowledge, from whence they may load themſelves with Treaſure; but the ſame Things taken from [21] theſe Cheſts of Knowledge, are not only of no Value to Men in mean Trades, or to low Artiſans, but abſolutely an Incumbrance.

NAY, we may go ſtill farther, and aſſert, that the learning of ſome particular Branches of Literature, has manifeſtly a bad Tendency to encourage in the Minds of thoſe Youths intended for Trade, ſuch Notions of Things as will abſolutely diſqualify them from excelling in their Buſineſſes; for, inſtead of endeavouring to become eminent in their Trades, they will be ambitious of being thought great Scholars; though, after all, perhaps, the Rudiments and firſt Principles of Learning only they have Capacities for acquiring. Hence a miſtaken Notion of their Superiority over others in the ſame humble Stations of Life will ariſe; and the Pride and Vanity they poſſeſs, and which lead them to diſdain their Fellows, will infallibly draw down on them their Contempt and Indignation, and the Laughter or Pity of the reſt of Mankind. By theſe Means, Men that might have become uſeful Members, turn Peſts of Society, or, at leaſt, mere excreſcences; [22] and thus is the Community robbed of the Induſtry and Genius of many Individuals, whoſe Talents, if diverted into a proper Channel, and exerted on proper Objects, might have brought Honour to their Country, Improvement to their particular Trade, and Profit to themſelves and Family.

THE Care and Attention of a Schoolmaſter ought to be immediately directed to theſe Points. He ſhould endeavour to diſcover the particular Genius which every Boy poſſeſſes; for there is no Boy but has a Genius for ſome Art or Science more than another; and it ought to be cheriſhed, and cultivated to the utmoſt. Many a Man, for Want of a due Attention to this Rule, now cuts a deſpicable Figure as a Poverty-ſtruck Phyſician, who might have proved an ingenious Painter, and have acquired great Fame and Wealth: And many a dull Clergyman now thumps a Cuſhion, or reads a dull Compoſition to a drowſy Audience, who might have proved an excellent Cutler, and furniſhed the World with ſuch Wares as might have engroſſed the Trade in that Branch of Manufacture [23] to Britain alone, which is now ſhared by other Nations.

BESIDES, conſider too, Gentlemen, that the Time we are at School is by far too long, and too precious to be thrown idly away; which it moſt certainly is, if not properly employ'd. No leſs than ſeven or eight Years is thought ſufficient to lay in a proper Stock of Learning, even for the loweſt Rank of People; and what that Learning is, I have before told you. For my Part, I muſt pronounce it a moſt ridiculous Piece of Vanity, in the loweſt Order of People, to have their Children taught Latin, Greek, French, the Mathematics, or any other Branch of Literature, which is not immediately neceſſary and requiſite to them in the Trades they are deſigned for: And I would gladly know, whether, to weigh a Pound of Raſins or Sugar, to make a full-bottomed Peruque, to cut out a Suit of Cloaths, or to ſell a Pair of Shoes, a Man that is illiterate is not as well qualified as he that underſtands Algebra or Greek?

[24] I AM not, Gentlemen, ſpeaking againſt the Utility of ſuch Branches of Learning; but I am for confining them to their proper Learners: nor am I to be underſtood as an Enemy to Tradeſmen and Artiſans partaking of the common Advantages that flow from Literature; but I am for limitting them to ſuch Branches of it as may be for their own Good. What theſe Branches are is very evident; a Knowledge of their own Tongue, ſo as to be capable of reading and ſpeaking it with Propriety; a Knowledge of the Principles of their Religion; and a Knowledge alſo of Writing and Arithmetic: And theſe, in my Opinion, are ſufficient for People intended for mean Trades.

I SHALL now, Gentlemen, ſhew you another Defect in the Conduct of our Schools; and that is, an improper Choice of Books. Sure I am, that a great Number of Books now univerſally made Uſe of, are a Diſgrace to Humanity, and a Scandal to a Chriſtian Nation. It has ever been an Opinion of mine, that without a Peruſal of [25] HORACE, JUVENAL, CATULLUS, MARTIAL, in our tender Years, we might attain a thorough Knowledge of the Latin Language; and we might underſtand Greek without learning ARISTOPHANES. All theſe Authors were great Libertines, and ſpeak of a deteſtable Vice, that reflects Diſhonour on Human Nature, in ſuch Terms, as ſhew their Approbation and Practice of it; and I muſt declare it as my Opinion, that had ſuch Authors not have mentioned it in the Manner they do, the Vice itſelf would have been unknown to, and unpractiſed by ſucceeding Ages. Were there no other Cauſe but this, thoſe Authors ought never to enter a School; and ſurely, the Impoſſibility of learning Latin or Greek without them, can never be pleaded, when we have Chriſtian Writers that have written on the moſt important Subjects, in a pure and claſſical Style, in ſuch great Numbers.

THE Knowledge of the Engliſh Tongue is of the laſt Importance to every one; but this great Branch is almoſt entirely neglected. We do not learn to ſpeak it at all; and how we are [26] taught to read it, I leave to every one's own Experience. In Latin and Greek, which, perhaps, we have no Occaſion to make Uſe of above once a Year, no Pains, no Expence, is thought too great to make us Adepts; but to make us ſpeak Engliſh well, which we have Occaſion to do every Day of our Lives, no Expence, no Pains are beſtowed on us.

In theſe ſeveral Particulars I have mentioned, I think the common Methods of educating Youth in this Nation, are very defective; and, I think, that Man who would point out a proper Remedy for theſe Diſeaſes, would deſerve well of Society, and be juſtly conſidered as a Friend to Mankind in general. I ſhall mention one, which, I think, would contribute not a little to cure the Diſorders that muſt inevitably enſue from the preſent defective Syſtem; for he muſt be a bad Man who ſhews us our Unhappineſs, and does not in ſome Meaſure endeavour to remove it.

THE remedy then which I imagine would be ſerviceable in the literary Diſeaſe [27] I am ſpeaking of, is, to compel all thoſe who ſet up public Schools for the Education of Youth, to wait on four or five Clergymen of Integrity and Learning, to be examined with Reſpect to their Abilities, and to receive under their Hands, duly atteſted, proper Certificates of their being capable of undertaking that great Work, previous to their actually engaging in it. Were this to be done, the Number of Schoolmaſters would be greatly reduced; but it would excite a ſufficient Number of able Men to engage in the Buſineſs of Teaching, as the fewer there were of them, the greater would be their Profit.

I COULD point out more Methods, Mr. Preſident, to advance Education, but I have been already too prolix, and therefore ſhall treſpaſs no more on your Time at preſent, but propoſe a Queſtion on that Subject for our debating ſome future evening.

How far theſe Complaints of one of the firſt Members of the Diſputing Society, made one hundred and fifty one Years ago, were juſt, appears by the unanimous Applauſe my Grand-father has obſerved was [28] given to his Speech: And how far applicable his Obſervations on the defective Syſtem of Education then in Vogue, are to the preſent, I leave to the Determination of every learned Reader.

THE ſubſequent Monday, being the 27th of October, 1613, the Society met for the ſecond Time. This Meeting was held at the Houſe of THOMAS VENNE, Eſq a Man of an immenſe Fortune, and great Erudition, at his Houſe in St. James's Square.

THE Queſtion debated that Evening, was,

Whether, notwithſtanding the Complaints made both by the Clergye and Laitye of the Degeneracye of the Age, the Moderns are not more virtuous and wiſe than the Ancients?

IN diſcuſſing this Queſtion, many learned and ingenious Arguments were produced by the Members, in Support both of the Affirmative and Negative Sides of it: But the major Part of the Society were for the Affirmative, and evidently demonſtrated the Superiority of the then preſent [29] Age to any former, both with Reſpect to their Knowledge of the Arts and Sciences, and their leading more exemplary Lives. They proved theſe two Opinions, by the infallible Evidence of Scripture, drawing a Compariſon between the Principles and Manners of the People of old, with the preſent, wherein the latter appeared infinitely more wiſe, and not near ſo wicked as the Holy Writings inform us the World antiently was. They then enquired into the Cauſe of public Speakers and Writers repreſenting the Degeneracy of the Age in ſuch lively Colours, and their being ſunk deeper into the Pits of Iniquity and Ignorance than any former Ages; and they ſuppoſed it to ariſe from the Want of a Reliſh for innocent Gratifications, in thoſe public Speakers and Writers; from their having been diſappointed in their Purſuits and Expectations, which ſowered their Minds, and gave them a Diſguſt to the World; and from Pride and Vanity, which ſwelling their Souls, and intoxicating their Imaginations, made them look down with Contempt from their own fancied Height of Excellence, on thoſe they imagined ſo far beneath them.

[30] THE next Time of their Meeting was on Monday the 3d of November, at my Grand-father's Houſe near Charing-Croſs; but I ſhould be too prolix, were I to relate the Particulars of this Meeting, and the ſeveral Arguments which this ingenious Set of Gentlemen made Uſe of in the debating of their Queſtion. I ſhall however inform my Reader what that Queſtion was, and mention a few others, which were debated in their Turn at the Houſes of the other Members.

Whether, from the various Accounts given to us in Hiſtorie, we may not reaſonablie conclude, that Demoſthenes was a greater Orator than Cicero?
Whether the Manufacture of Broad Cloth might not be carried to a ſtill greater Degree of Perfection?

THIS Queſtion was agreed by the Society to be debated on again the next Monday Night, which was the 24th of November; and the Subject being, in their Opinion, of the greateſt Importance, and not exhauſted, after they had again diſcuſſed it [31] that Evening, it was agreed that it ſhould be a Subject for their Entertainment a third Night.

Whether Emulation in brave and noble Minds, and Envy in cowardly and baſe ones, are not Acquirements in the Poſſeſſors own Power?

ON this Queſtion I muſt remark, that, however intelligible it might be at that Time of the Day, it is not ſo now; nor do I ſee what Purpoſe the propoſing it could ſerve—no Debates appear by my Manuſcript to have been made upon it.

Whether the Improvement of our Heads and the Improvement of our Hearts, do not go Hand in Hand?
What Kind of Education is the moſt proper for a Nobleman, a Gentleman, and a Tradeſman?
What Regulations or Improvements are needful to be made, in Order to advance the great Work of Education in this Kingdom?
[32]Whether, if a Committee or Number of Gentlemen of acknowledged Abilities, were appointed either to draw up, or to alter the Epitaphs which, according to the preſent Method, diſgrace our Church-Yards, it would not reflect Honour on the Nation, and excite a higher Opinion of our Wiſdom in the Minds of judicious Foreigners?
Whether the Stage, under proper Regulations, might not be made an Aid to Wiſdom, an Enforcer of Virtue, and a Supplement to the Pulpit?
Whether a Spendthrift or a Miſer, is the moſt uſeleſs Member of the Community?

ON this Queſtion, my Grand-father made a Remark, which I cannot forbear tranſcribing.

A Spendthrift, ſays he, is like a Graſhopper, and a Miſer like a Jackdaw. The former diſſipates his Subſtance, and ſings away his Time, in his Summer of Life, regardleſs of what may happen to him in Winter, and [33] not conſidering that wilful Waſte brings woeful Want; and the latter hides the Treaſure he has collected, and which he can never enjoy. They both are Fools, and unfit for Society; but the Miſer, I think, is moſt ſo. The Miſer is a mere Muckworm, a Dunghillmaker, that has brought together a Quantity of Manure, which, if properly diſtributed, would enrich the national Soil; the Spendthrift, however an Enemy to himſelf, is the generous Hand that ſcatters the rich Dung, that doth Good to Thouſands.
Whether the Difference of Genius, obſervable in the People of different Nations, is owing to the Climate, Soil, Form of Government, or Education?
Whether an hypocritical Sinner, or an open and audacious one, be the greateſt Enemy to Society?

SUCH were the firſt thirteen Queſtions debated by the then infant Society, at their Meetings at the Members Houſes; the laſt of which was held at the Houſe of my Grand-father.

[34] I SHALL now take a Liberty frequently uſed by Biographers, and other Writers, that of ſkipping over a long Space of Time, in which nothing material happened in the Society, ſave that it increaſed in Numbers and in Fame.

FOR no leſs than eight-and-twenty Years was it continued on the ſame Principles, and conducted in the ſame Manner, as at its firſt Eſtabliſhment, during all which Time my Grand-father belonged to it, who has not only preſerved in a large Folio Book all the Queſtions propoſed, but alſo the Debates on thoſe that were more particularly intereſting, or which more forcibly excited his Curioſity.

FROM whatever Cauſe it was owing, I know not, but for half a Year the Society was adjourned, which was the Summer of 1641. I have been ſometimes tempted to impute it to the particular Severity of the Uſurper's Government, and the critical Exigency of the Times; but that could not be the Caſe, as the Meetings were again held in October, being at the Time of the dreadful Iriſh Maſſacre, when no leſs than 45,000 Souls were cruelly murdered; [35] though ſome Writers, for ſome ſiniſter Views, or Reaſons beſt known to themſelves, have diminiſhed the Numbers that fell by the Hands of the Murderers, more than two-thirds.

SHORTLY after their aſſembling together again, a great Number of Gentlemen of Rank and Fortune, having heard of their Fame, and approving their Scheme, offered themſelves as Members: But the Society imagining that it would be extremely inconvenient for a greater Number of Members to meet together, refuſed admitting them, and declared they would not alter, or break in on their original Plan.

IN this Manner they continued 'till the Reſtoration of King CHARLES II. in 1660; and to ſhew in what Eſteem they were held, I ſhall tranſcribe the following curious Anecdote, which the Reader may depend on as a Matter of Fact.

OUR Society now began to attract the public Attention in a very particular Manner, and was ſo much diſcourſed of, and ſo univerſally applauſed, that it even excited Majeſty itſelf to pay [36] us a Viſit. He was introduced to us by Sir HUGH, who inform'd us he was a diſtant Relation of his; that coming lately from the Country, and hearing of our Fame, as he expreſſed it, was deſirous of hearing himſelf thoſe Debates which the World talk'd ſo loudly of. Now ſeveral of us would have known the King, had he appear'd in propriâ Perſonâ, but he had put a Piece of black Silk over his left Cheek, which almoſt cover'd it; and his Eyebrows which were quite black, he had by ſome Artifice or other, converted to a light brown, or rather to a flaxen Colour, and had diſguiſed himſelf in his Apparel and Looks ſo effectually, that none of us knew him; and of this Circumſtance my good Friend, Sir HUGH, was entirely ſilent 'till two Years afterwards, being, no Doubt, ſo caution'd by his Majeſty.

THIS little Anecdote throws a farther Light on the Character of that facetious Monarch, who, as we may gather from Hiſtory, lov'd a Frolic at his Heart, and was never happier than when at ſome public Entertainments, or Aſſemblies, of his Subjects, where he might throw off the [37] cumbrous Robes of Majeſty, and give a free and natural Vent to his humorous Diſpoſition. I find that he was ſo well entertain'd with the Debates of the Society, that he came there three Times more, and expreſſed himſelf greatly ſatisfied with an Inſtitution, which, he declared, had ſo great a Tendency to enlarge the Mind, and to refine the Taſte.

THE Society had now exiſted forty-ſeven Years, and of the Members that firſt form'd it, two only ſurviv'd, my Grandfather and Sir HUGH. But it being like the immortal Regiment of FREDERICK II. King of Pruſſia, ſupplied with new Members as the old ones dropp'd off, there was no Doubt of its Diſſolution, eſpecially as they took Care to elect ſuch Men only as were poſſeſſed of Integrity and Abilities; for it was an invariable Maxim with them that none but ſuch ſhould be admitted, let their Station in Life, Age, Connections, or Fortune, be what they would.

FIVE Years after this Time, the dreadful Plague happen'd, which carried off no leſs than ſixty-eight Thouſand five Hundred and eighty-ſix Souls, Men, Women, and Children. Among them was my Grandfather, [38] who, after being ſeized with it, and continuing exceſſively ill for eleven Days, departed this Life in the eighty-ſeventh Year of his Age, having for the laſt fifty-two Years been a Member of the Society for free Enquiry, of which he was the firſt Propoſer and Promoter, and, with the Aſſiſtance of Sir HUGH MYDDLETON, the chief Eſtabliſher.

End of the FIRST PART.

THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.
PART II.

[39]

HITHERTO we have been enabled to compile this Hiſtory by the Manuſcript of my Grand-father. He has been, as it were, our Polar Star, by whoſe Light we have directed our Courſe; and if that Light ſhall be adjudged ſufficient to reflect a Splendor on ſo obſcure a Subject as that which we have attempted, [40] (a Subject whoſe Original, Riſe, and Progreſs cannot, I believe, be traced with greater Fidelity, involved as it is in the Darkneſs of Time) and to ſatisfy the Expectations of the Reader, we ſhall think ourſelves very happy. It is true, that we could have been more minute in the Deſcription of ſeveral Things; could have tranſcribed many Speeches of various Members on different Subjects, which we have entirely omitted; and have given all the Queſtions that were debated by the Society from their firſt Eſtabliſhment in 1613, to the Time of my Grand-father's Death in 1665. But the doing theſe Things we have conceived unneceſſary, ſince it muſt have been very dry and inſipid to our Readers, a very diſagreeable Taſk for ourſelves, and would have ſwelled this Hiſtory to an enormous Size.

WE ſhall now, in this Second Part, continue our Hiſtory from my Grandfather's Death, till the Removal of the Society to the Eſſex-Head in Eſſex-Street, when its original Plan was alter'd, and its Conduct became very different; and ſhew its various Fortune, till its laſt Tranſmigration to the Robinhood in Butcher-Row, where it now continues to be held.

[41] MY Father, for ſome Years before my Grand-father's Death, had been admitted a Member of the Society, and was looked on as a very intelligent and worthy Man. He was not leſs fond of it than my Grandfather, and no leſs particular in tranſcribing from the Club-Book the various Queſtions that were inſerted there, and the ſeveral Arguments that paſſed pro and con on the Subjects, when they came to be debated. This he performed in the ſame large Folio Book my Grand-father made Uſe of for the ſame Purpoſe; and which being now in my Poſſeſſion, enables me to compile this Work.

IN the Year 1667 the Society had ſome Thoughts of enlarging their Plan, and admitting more Members. They had received Applications from ſeveral Men of Quality, and great Numbers of others diſtinguiſhed for Wit and Judgment, for their being admitted to partake of the Inſtruction and Entertainment which their Debates afforded; but ſo general an Admiſſion was deemed impracticable, on Account of the great Inconvenience the Members would all be put to, in their Turn, to entertain ſo many Perſons, and [42] therefore ſuch Applications were to no Purpoſe.

OCCASIONAL Viſitants had been, however, allowed the Liberty of being preſent at the Debates, and to ſpeak themſelves to the Queſtion if they thought proper. Reſtraint irritates Deſire, and Things forbidden have greater Charms for Mankind, than thoſe they are at free Liberty to enjoy. So proved it with thoſe Gentlemen, who, though they had been preſent at the Debates of the Society, were not Members of it. Enraged to find they had not the Liberty of becoming Members, they deviated from the Queſtions they ſhould have ſpoken to; and complained, that a Society that was not free for the Reception of every one in general that had an Inclination to frequent it, could have no good Effect, and that, ſuppoſing its Influence on the Manners and Principles of thoſe that attended it ever ſo great, the Public in general could reap no Advantage from it.

IN this Manner the Society went on for ſome Time, and the Debates were a motly Mixture of angry Cenſures and ſolid Arguments, Animadverſions on the Queſtions propoſed, and Complaints of the [43] narrow Spirit of the Society: So that the original Intention of the firſt Members was entirely fruſtrated, and the Satisfaction and Pleaſure which muſt always ariſe from a reciprocal Communication of Sentiments between learned and ingenious Men, gave Way to private Cabals and perſonal Invectives; which will ever check the Growth of Knowledge, and choak up the Paths of Truth.

TO put a Stop to theſe Proceedings, one of the Members, a Man of a violent Spirit, and boiſterous Diſpoſition, propoſed it to the Conſideration of the Society, whether it would not be adviſeable to refuſe Admittance, for the future, to any Gentleman whatever, that might deſire to be an occaſional Viſitant, and to make ſuch an Order in their Book. And he gave it as his Opinion, that without doing it, the Society muſt ſoon fall to the Ground, by the Uproar and tumultuous Proceedings which frequently prevailed there.

HE was ſeconded in his Motion by another of the Members, a Man of like Temper with himſelf; who alſo gave it as his Opinion, that no Perſon whatever, let his Fortune or Rank in Life be what it would, [44] ought to be admitted as an occaſional Viſitant. He obſerved, that their Society was of a private Nature; and that, for People to inſiſt on puſhing into their Company, and hearing their Sentiments of Men and Things, whether they would or not, was an unparallelled Piece of Aſſurance, and equally unmannerly with a Beggar, that, cloathed in Rags and Wretchedneſs, yet, full of a true Hibernian Impudence, would force his Way into a Gentleman's Parlour againſt his Conſent. He expatiated largely on the Folly of firſt permitting any Gentleman to attend there who was not a Member, and obſerved, that though it was a Cuſtom to grant ſuch Permiſſion, yet the Breach of fooliſh Cuſtoms is better than the Obſervance of them: And concluded, by remarking, that if they had, in that Reſpect, travelled on in a wrong Road for fifteen Years laſt paſt, there was no Reaſon they ſhould ſtill travel in it, eſpecially as they had then experienced the Inconveniencies that aroſe from it.

THE many Debates and Arguments they had at various Times on this Topic, at laſt produced the following Queſtion:

[45]Whether it is proper to allow any Gentleman, who is not a regularly choſen Member of this Society, a Liberty of attending it?

THIS Queſtion gave Riſe to many Arguments on both Sides, and produced no ſmall Commotion. The two hot-headed Members I have juſt mentioned, were of Opinion, that no Man, however dignified or diſtinguiſhed, ought to have Liberty of coming there; and urged all the Arguments they were Maſters of to ſupport their Opinions; which they did not do with the calm Demeanour of a venerable and pacific NESTOR, whoſe Words fall from him like Flakes of Snow, that melted as they fell, but with all the Fire and Fury of an enraged AJAX.

AS the Iſſue of this Debate produced a Revolution in the Society not leſs remarkable, in Proportion to the Numbers that were affected by it, than the Revolution in the State that happened but two Years afterwards, I ſhall tranſcribe the Speech that my Father made on the Occaſion, and which, he declares, made ſuch an Impreſſion on them, that they followed his Advice, [46] in the Alteration and Enlargement of their Plan.

I LOOK on this Queſtion, Gentlemen to be of no ſmall Importance; as not only the Well-being, but the very Exiſtence of our Society muſt depend on the Determination we make concerning it, and the Influence ſuch Determination muſt neceſſarily have on our Conduct. It has been allowed, ye all know, for Gentlemen, recommended by any Member of our Society, to be preſent at our Debates. How long it has been allowed, I cannot ſay; but it has been ſo ever ſince I have had the Honour of belonging to it. The Advantage our Society derives from this Permiſſion is not inconſiderable. It receives a Luſtre and Character from the Reports which our occaſional Viſitants make of it to their Friends; and thus Men of real Genius and Learning are induced to viſit us, and by their hearing our Debates, and liſtening to our Sentiments on Subjects of Importance, or Matters of Controverſy, they are excited to give us theirs; and thus we are mutually improved, and mutually obligated. Beſides, conſider that very [47] frequently not one Half of the Members attend, and if occaſional Viſitants were not then to come among us, the Debates would grow languid, and no Argument could ſubſiſt. Thoſe Gentlemen that are for having no Perſons to partake of the Entertainment they may expect, and ſeek for here, but Members, ſeem to reſemble an avaritious, covetous old Miſer, that hoards up his Bags, and would have no one the better for them. Let us not be miſers in Knowledge, but deſpiſe the Character as much as we do him that cloſets up his Gold. The worſt Avarice is that of Wiſdom; and if we really poſſeſs any, let us act like the generous Man, and the good Chriſtian, that will communicate to others the good Things that he hath, and give unto him that wanteth: If we have not that Wiſdom which we may imagine, and without Vanity imagine, People think we have, and which they come here to partake of, they will, perhaps, give us ſome. Ye all know, Gentlemen, that in the Diſtribution of Things of this Kind, he that gives away the moſt is never the poorer for it; his Treaſures are not the more exhauſted: Then let us not [48] be afraid that ours will be ſo, but rather hope that we ſhall be enriched by the Treaſures of thoſe that often viſit us, and frequently come to us very opportunely in the Abſence of ſome of our Members.

ONE Gentleman has obſerved, that fooliſh Cuſtoms ought to be broke through; and that if we have travelled in a wrong Road for ſome Time, it is proper to quit it, and travel in a right Road. I allow it, Gentlemen; but he ought to have proved theſe two Things: He ought to have ſhewn that our Admiſſion of Viſiters was a fooliſh Cuſtom, and that the Road we had hitherto travelled in was a wrong one; but he has not done theſe Things; he has only given us his mere Ipſe Dixit.

HE has obſerved likewiſe, that for People to puſh themſelves into our Society, to hear our Debates, is as unmannerly as for a Beggar to puſh, without Permiſſion, into a Gentleman's Parlour. This I deny. Gentlemen that come here, do it by the Liberty that is given to each Member, to bring one Friend with him; and therefore, [49] that is not a Caſe in Point. As to the Inconveniencies that have ariſen, and the Tumults that have been raiſed, they have not been owing to our admitting Viſiters, as that Gentleman has aſſerted, but to our not admitting more. And really, I am of Opinion, that a Society for free and candid Inquiry, ought to be a free rnd candid Society. But how can it be a free one, if Gentlemen are denied Entrance? How can it be a candid one, if we obſtruct the Propagation of Knowledge?—In ſhort, Gentlemen, I think our Plan might be improved, and a very neceſſary Reformation take Place; a Reformation that will put a Stop to all Manner of Diſturbances, and increaſe our Reputation by the Acceſſion of more Members.

YOU experience very clearly, Gentlemen, that the chief Inconveniencies we are put to, is the Want of Room. Could we but get a larger Place, capable of holding conveniently a larger Company, we ſhould neither be ſo crowded, nor would the Debates meet with ſuch Obſtructions. Beſides, to ſpeak my Sentiments plainly, I don't [50] think that meeting at each other's Houſes is at all proper. We put ourſelves to many Inconveniencies we might avoid; we ſuffer many Perplexities we have no Occaſion to ſuffer; and we diſorder our Family Affairs, when we might avoid doing it.

I AM confident, Gentlemen, there is not a Man among ye, how attached ſoever he is to the Intereſt of the Society, but dreads the Approach of that Monday, when, perhaps, no leſs than fifty People are to aſſemble; and ſome of us perfectly tremble at it. For my Part, I muſt conteſs, that on the Monday Evening the Society meets at my Houſe, I am the unhappieſt Creature imaginable; my Wife diſlikes it, and my Servants deteſt it. I doubt not but this is the Caſe with ye all, Gentlemen, though your Reſpect for the Society, and for one another, has prevented your making Mention of it. The Method of Meeting at each other's Houſes might be extremely proper for the Society in its Infancy; but I don't apprehend it is ſo now. The ſame Reaſons do not now exiſt as might then; and [51] therefore we are not under the ſame Obligation to follow the ſame Method of Procedure in this Reſpect.

WHEN this Society was firſt inſtituted, which was fifty-three Years ago, there were only fifteen Members that compoſed it; and no more were added to it for ſome conſiderable Time. No Member then brought a Friend with him; ſo that the Society might then be, with great Propriety, ſtiled a private one. But that is not the Caſe now. Our Number of eſtabliſhed Members doubles theirs, and the Number of occaſional Viſitants that come among us, allowing for the Abſence of ſome Members every Monday Night, at leaſt trebles it. The Inconveniency that ſuch a Number of People occaſion to a Family I have before ſet forth; and therefore ſhall now deliver it as my Opinion, that this is a Grievance that wants a ſpeedy Redreſs, and demands our Attention much more than, whether it is proper to allow Gentlemen, not Members of our Society, a Liberty of attending it.

This Speech was received with univerſal Applauſe. Even the Gentlemen that oppoſed [52] my Father in the former Part of his Speech, could not but join with him in the latter; and they all came to a Reſolution, that their meeting at one another's Houſes to debate, threw their Families into great Confuſion, was improper in itſelf, and required an Alteration.

IN Conſequence of this Opinion, the Society came to a Determination, of having their Meetings at ſome Tavern or Coffeehouſe, where they might be accommodated with a Room ſufficient to hold a large Number of Gentlemen, and where every one, whoſe Curioſity excited him to attend the Debates, might have a Liberty of entering.

IT may eaſily be imagined, that in a City like London, it could not be a very long Time before a Houſe poſſeſſed of ſuch a Room was diſcovered. Indeed, many ſuch occurred to the Minds of the Members; but that which ſeemed moſt commodious, and beſt adapted to their Purpoſe, was the Eſſex-Head in Eſſex-Street.

TO this Houſe, therefore, ſeveral of the Members went; and having examined it very attentively, reported to their Brethren, [53] on their Return, that it would, with ſome Alterations, anſwer their Purpoſe extremely well; that they had ſpoken to the Landlord concerning it; and that he had promiſed to do every Thing in his Power to make it agreeable to them.

THE Society received this Account with general Approbation; and informing the Landlord of the Nature of their Club, he fitted up the largeſt Room in his Houſe, fixing Benches therein, ſo as to make it contain upwards of an hundred Perſons.

THE Rules and Orders the Society had before obſerved, were now altered. Before, every Member had, in his Turn, defray'd the whole Expence attendant on the Meeting held at his Houſe; but now, they ordered, that every Member, and every Perſon that came to the Society to hear their Debates, ſhould, previous to his Admiſſion into the Club-Room, take a Ticket at the Bar, for which he ſhould pay Six-pence: That every Six-pence ſo paid would be received by the Landlord; in Conſideration of which, he ſhould furniſh them with as much Porter and Lemonade as would amount to the Sum total received: That the Price of both thoſe Kinds [54] of Liquors ſhould be rated at Four-pence a Pot: That if any Gentleman choſe other Liquors, he ſhould pay for them ſeparately: And that if any Money remained in the Landlord's Hands, after he had deducted, from the whole Money received, the Price of the Porter and Lemonade he had furniſhed the Society with, it ſhould be paid to his Servants, in proportionable Shares, in Conſideration of the Trouble they were put to.

THEY likewiſe formed ſome new Rules with Reſpect to the Conduct of the Society, and their Methods of Debate; of which the following are the moſt remarkable.

  • Ordered, THAT the Society for free and candid Inquiry, be a free one, and open to any Perſon that thinks proper to attend it.
  • Ordered, THAT that no Perſon be admitted a Member of the Society, unleſs he is elected by a Majority of Voices; and that no Meeting be held for the Election of new Members, but once a Quarter, which ſhall be in a private Room, after the Debates of the Night are over.
  • [55] Ordered, THAT Religion and Politics ſhall be debated on in this Society, provided Decency and good Order be obſerved, both in the wording the Queſtion on thoſe Subjects, and in the Diſcuſſion thereof.
  • Ordered, THAT more than one Queſtion be debated of a Night, if there is Time ſufficient for ſo doing.
  • Ordered, THAT no one ſhall be allowed more than five Minutes to ſpeak to the Queſtion.
  • Ordered, THAT no Queſtion ſhall be propoſed to the Conſideration of the Society, nor admitted in the Book as a Queſtion, unleſs it is ſigned by ſome Name.
  • Ordered, THAT no Perſon ſhall be obliged to ſign his own Name to any Queſtion he ſhall think proper to propoſe, but a fictitious one, if he thinks proper.
  • Ordered, THAT in the debating any Queſtion, the Propoſer ſhall not be [56] obliged to father it, or to open it by explaining the Terms, and the Manner he would have it conſidered in, unleſs he thinks proper: But if no Perſon owns the Queſtion, it ſhall go from the Preſident, and be deemed as his; after which it ſhall be debated in due Order; the Perſon that ſits on the Left Hand of the Preſident to ſpeak to it firſt, and ſo on.

THESE are the moſt material new Regulations which the Society made on their removing to the Eſſex-Head, their other Rules and Orders being the ſame as before.

IT is impoſſible to conceive what Numbers of People attended the Society as ſoon as it was declared a free one, and Liberty was given to every Perſon to enter it, on paying Six-pence. No one Topic for Converſation ſo univerſally prevailed as this. It became a general Subject of Debate without Doors, as much as Philoſophy, Metaphyſics, and the Belles Lettres did within. From the Courtier down to the Peaſant, from the hoary Sage down to the playful School-boy, Curioſity had extended her Influence, and excited Deſires in every [57] one to viſit an Aſſembly of Men that had rendered themſelves ſo famous.

IN Conſequence of ſuch an univerſal and eager Curioſity, Multitudes of People aſſembled at the Eſſex-Head every Monday Night, ſome as Orators, and ſome as Auditors; ſome to be inſtructed, ſome to be entertained; ſome to ſee, and ſome to be ſeen; ſome to ſhew their fine Cloaths, and delicate Perſons; and ſome to criticiſe the Speeches of the Eſſex-Head Orators, and entertain their Miſtreſſes with an Account of the Debates, and diſplay their own Sagacity in diſtinguiſhing their Merits, and their Defects.

IT is not more wonderful for Critics to congregate at ſuch Places, than for Rooks and Jackdaws to meet in the Fields of human Slaughter. A Critic that has not the Power of ſpeaking a ſingle Sentence in Public, is yet able to diſſect the fineſt Orations of the fineſt Orators; he can diminiſh the Graces of Elocution and Action, and exaggerate little Defects, with all the petulance of Pedantry, and Rage of Cenſure.

[58] SUCH Critics are like Eunuchs: They have not Vigour nor Courage to act manfully themſelves, and they envy and cenſure thoſe that do. When they come into a public Aſſembly, it is not to partake of its Entertainments, but to ſeek Occaſions of finding Fault, and giving an ill-natured Turn to the moſt harmleſs Amuſements. They are like ſo many Hounds at a Carcaſe, devouring their Prey as faſt as they can, and growling all the Time they are eating.

THERE was likewiſe a Number of theſe Gentlemen of a higher Claſs, the Writing Critics, who attended the Society, in Search of freſh Topics to exerciſe their Abilities, and amuſe the Public. They knew that the Paſſion for Novelties muſt be gratified; and when almoſt every Subject had been exhauſted, and every Field been ſo much traverſed, as to render the Whole a common, beaten, and highway Path, it was neceſſary for thoſe Sportſmen to turn out of the common Road, where nothing but common Objects, and Things that have been a thouſand Times deſcribed, meet the Eye, and ſtrike into bye Lanes and covert Places, where, perhaps, [59] Plenty of original and curious Game might he ſtarted, hunted down with Sport and Pleaſure, and be at length cooked, and ſerved up as a choice Diſh for the public Taſte.

THIS was the Caſe of the Eſſex Head Society. While it was confined within the Bounds of each Member's Houſe, the Public in general knew but little of it, and the venal Authors of thoſe Days, not having Intimacy and Intereſt enough with any of the Members to gain Admittance, were of Courſe diſabled from informing the World of the Nature of the Society, and ſignalizing themſelves, by ſtriking into a new Species of Writing, and entertaining the Public with a new Subject. Not but of late Years the Race of Writing-Critics is greatly improved. Formerly, thoſe Votaries of Dullneſs never attempted to write on Subjects of which they had no Knowledge; but now, grown more vivacious, and cultivating the finer Powers of Imagination, they can traduce Men whom they never knew, refute Arguments they do not underſtand, and pronounce Sentence on Books they have not read.

Nay, the Writing-Critics of the preſent Age, are ſo ſagacious, that even the raw [60] and undiſciplined can form a right Judgment of every new Production, by reading only the firſt ten Lines; and as to Veterans, the Cooks of Monthly Haſhes for the public Palate, they can diſcover an Author by his Style, and of Courſe know, in ten Minutes, whether they are to praiſe or cenſure his Piece: Though, indeed, to their Credit it muſt be obſerv'd, that they are not abſolute Slaves to malignant Obduracy; for, after they have vowed to damn a Work and its Author to Contempt and Obſcurity, a Beef-Steak and a Bottle of Wine have had a wonderful Efficacy in ſoftening the Severity of their Diſpoſitions, making them adore and cheriſh that very Work, which, without the Interpoſition and Agency of the Wine and the Beef, they would have butchered without Decency, and devoured without Remorſe.

SO much for Critics of every Species.—I ſhall now return to my Hiſtory, and as I am too poor to give a Beef-Steak and a Bottle to ſecure it from the Reviewer's Place of Torment, it muſt of Courſe be —, but no Matter.

[61] AS the Society was now declared to be free, and Religion and Politics, thoſe inexhauſtible Topics of Converſation, were allowed to be handled, the Room was crowded every Night, and Orators, like Muſhrooms in a foggy Morning, ſtarted up from every Seat. The Excluſion of theſe Subjects from their Debates before, had, in the general Opinion of the Society, robbed them of much Entertainment and Knowledge. They, therefore, departed from the Maxims of the original Members, who had declared, that the Chriſtian Religion being of Divine Original, could not but be pure and holy, and therefore not a fit Object for the Debates of Diſputing Clubs; and that for Philoſophers and ſtudious Men, who wanted only to cultivate their rational Faculties by the Diſcuſſion of uſeful Subjects, to wade into the Depths of Politics, and to take on them the Liberty of ſcrutinizing into the Meaſures of State, would be an unwarrantable Action, and productive of no Good.

NAY, as it is uſual not only with private Men, but with public Aſſemblies, to run into Extremes; ſo our Society now debated [62] very few Queſtions, but what were religious, or political.

TRUE Religion, they obſerved, like Silver ſeven Times purified in the Fire, appear'd the brighter the more it was examined into; and it was the indiſpenſible Duty of every Man, to ſearch the Scriptures, and to endeavour to give an Anſwer to him that aſketh a Reaſon for the Hope that is in him. Nay, without doing it, every Man muſt be extremely criminal; ſince, if the only Reaſon a Man can give for his being of any particular Perſuaſion with Reſpect to his Religious Principles, is, that his Father and Mother were of the ſame Religion he was, and that he profeſſed that Religion, becauſe he was educated in it; then, by a Parity of Reaſon, a Hottentot, or a Mahometan, a Jew, or a Pagan, has as ſtrong Reaſons for his Mode of Religious Worſhip, and is as juſtifiable in the Continuance of it, as the Chriſtian. As to the ſeeming Impropriety of debating on Religion in a Public Houſe, and examining into its Principles over a Pot of Beer, they concluded, it was not only warrantable, but laudable, and infinitely better than doing it in private [63] Houſes, where they could not have an Opportunity to inſtruct their Minds and refreſh their Bodies at the ſame Time: For they inſiſted, that in all Debates whatever, more eſpecially on Religion, the Converſation grows languid and inſipid, in Proportion as the Speakers grow hungry and thirſty; and therefore, a Welch Rabbit and a Pot of Beer, were as neceſſary Requiſites for a profeſſed Orator, as Knowledge and Elocution, or even a Subject to harangue on.

AS to the Admiſſion of Political Queſtions, they obſerv'd, that in this Land of Liberty, where the Goddeſs herſelf reigns with ſo much Luſtre, and infuſes her chearing Influence into every Breaſt, it is abſolutely neceſſary for every one who has the Good of his Country at Heart, to ſcrutinize into, and examine the Meaſures which are from Time to Time taken by our State Pilots, in the Management of, and ſteering the Political Veſſel: That it is a Duty incumbent on every Man in a free State, in a Rank of Life, and poſſeſſed of Abilities beyond the Vulgar, to fathom the Depths of Government, and to point out and expoſe the hidden Rocks [64] and dangerous Shoals, on which Stateſmen often ſplit: That as we are all Links of one great Chain, we are all intereſted in the Fate of each other, and bound by the moſt ſolemn Ties of doing our utmoſt, for the Support and Welfare of that Community to which we belong: And, that though to direct the Helm of State requires an able Head and an incorrupt Heart, Practice and Experience, Courage and Prudence; yet, it has been found, that as a Pigmy mounted on the Shoulders of a Giant, may be able to ſee farther than the Giant himſelf, ſo People not converſant with State Affairs, may ſtrike out ſome Road, that, being purſued, may lead to Glory and Happineſs, and make ſome Obſervations, of which thoſe that have the Direction of public Affairs, may avail themſelves.

FOR theſe, and ſome other Reaſons equally cogent, they determined, that Religion and Politics ſhould find a Place in their Debates, and employ their Attention as much as any other Subjects.

THE firſt Queſtion they had of a religious Nature, was the following; which the Reader will perceive was as ingenious [65] as it was modeſt, highly emblematical of that Freedom of Enquiry which afterwards prevailed in that free Society.

Whether Faith and Belief are not one and the ſame Thing? And, if ſo, Whether it is in the leaſt meritorious to believe what we cannot help upon the Conviction of the Senſes? ANTI-FIDELIS.

MANY Arguments were urged on both Sides, and Religion and Reaſon were bandied to and fro by the various Diſputants, as a Foot-ball is by a Company of Soldiers, or a Shuttlecock by the alternate Strokes of ſounding Battledores.

THE Affirmatives ſtrongly inſiſted that Faith was nothing but a Conviction in the Mind, of the Truth of any particular Doctrine, or Thing; that we could not help, from the internal Evidence we have of Things, to believe or diſbelieve them; that in Conſequence of our examining them, we form our Opinion, or in other Words, our Faith; and that ſince the Evidence produced within every Man's Mind, is more or leſs forcible, in Proportion as it ſtrikes the Imagination, it is no [66] Wonder that the Opinion, or Faith of Mankind, ſhould be ſo greatly different, and that one ſhould firmly believe what another ſo ſtrenuouſly denies. They alledged, that if a Man did all in his Power to arrive at a due Knowledge of Things, and in Conſequence of his gaining the beſt Information he could, grounded his Belief, he was not culpable, let that Belief be what it would; but any one that ſits down contented with Things as he finds them, and believes them without a free and impartial Examination of their Nature and Tendency, is extremely culpable; ſince he only believes what he has been taught, as a Parrot may prate what he has been inſtructed in. That to examine into the Truth of any Doctrine before we aſſent to it, is our Duty; that implicit Faith is a Monſter in its Nature, and worthy only of Papal Regions, where the Mind is fettered and Credulity and Ignorance ſtalls at large.

MANY other Arguments were produced, in Support of the Opinions of thoſe ingenious Gentlemen, which it would be too tedious to enumerate; the Reſult, however, of their Enquiries, and the Inferences they drew from their Propoſitions, [67] were, that Faith, of whatever Kind or Nature ſoever, was not in the leaſt meritorious, and of conſequence not neceſſary to Salvation; ſince it depended only on the Formation of our Minds, and their Capability of diſtinguiſhing with Preciſion and Accuracy, the Nature of Things, which accordingly influenced us to reject or admit, to believe or diſbelieve any Propoſition or Doctrine which came under the Examination of our Senſes; and that an Infidel and a Chriſtian, are alike acceptable to God, and uſeful Members of the Community.

I SHALL not give the Subſtance of what was ſaid on the other Side of the Queſtion, for the greater Part of the Speakers were thoſe who diſbelieved the Truth of the Chriſtian Religion; and thoſe who ſpoke in its Defence, injured the Cauſe they ſhould have ſupported, and betrayed the Fort they ſhould have defended, by their feeble and ridiculous Arguments. To refute, therefore, the Obſervations before made, would not be to record the Proceedings of the Society, but to give my own Opinion.

[68] ONE Obſervation I muſt, however, be permitted to make. An ignorant Chriſtian that pretends to defend Chriſtianity againſt the Attacks of Infidels, is the greateſt Enemy it can have. The Shafts of Ridicule pointed againſt it by its Foes, are too blunted, and the divine Shield of Truth, which Chriſtianity has to defend her, is too ſtrong for any Impreſſion to be made on it. It muſt not be concluded therefore, that if, in public Societies, Chriſtianity is not always defended with a cool and intrepid Spirit, againſt the hot Aſſaults of a whole Legion of Adverſaries, that it is not defenſible. Let but the pretended Friends of Chriſtianity hold their Tongues, and it will defend itſelf; but if they open the Gate to its Foes, it is no Wonder that they ſhould enter, and triumph without a Victory.

TO give the Reader as ſatisfactory Account of the Society as I can, and to enable him to form an adequate Idea of the Members that compoſed it, I ſhall tranſcribe a few of the Queſtions they debated, and give a brief Hiſtory of a few of the principal Speakers.

[69] SOME of the Queſtions that adorn the Book of Debates, and called forth the Oratorial Abilities of the Members, are as follow:

RELIGIOUS QUESTIONS. ‘Whether the Ceremonies and Practice of Mankind, relative to Marriage, under the Moſaic Diſpenſation, were ſuperſeded, or ſet aſide by the Chriſtian Revelation? JUDAEUS. ‘Whether the Character of the Man after GOD's own Heart, is proper for the Imitation of People in theſe Days? TITUS. ‘Whether a Plurality of Wives, practiſed by the firſt Race of Men, is not juſtifiable by the preſent, as the Doctrine and Practice were not abrogated by the firſt Chriſtians? ANGLICANUS. ‘Whether the Doctrine of the Trinity can be juſtified either by Reaſon or Scripture? ANTI-TRINITARIAN. [70]Whether a poſitive Command to believe in Doctrines we have no Conception of, and cannot compel our Reaſon to ſubmit to, has not a manifeſt Tendency to hoodwink our rational Faculties, and to put us on a Level with Beaſts, whom we command to perform our Wills without giving them any Reaſons for our ſo doing? PHILO-LIBERTATIS. ‘Whether the Doctrines of Chriſtianity are not irreconcileable to the Reaſon, and repugnant to the Intereſts of Mankind? DRACO. ‘Whether the Exerciſe of our rational Faculties, independent of any ſupernatural Aſſiſtance, be not ſufficient to guide us to Salvation? And if it is not a groſs Affront to the Wiſdom of the Great Firſt Cauſe to ſuppoſe the contrary? BRITANNICUS. ‘Whether it is conſiſtent with the Common Senſe of Mankind to believe, that the Divine LOGOS, or Word, or Supreme Being, could be born of a Virgin? NEGATIVUS. [71]Whether any one is accountable to any Body of Men whatever for his religious Sentiments? CHRISTIANUS. ‘Whether the Variety of Religious Syſtems, all pretending to have the Divine Authority of the Sacred Writings for their Foundation, does not warrant an unprejudiced and a rational Perſon to ſuſpect the Authenticity of thoſe Writings? Or, if not, to decline being a Member of any viſible Church? CHUBB.

As theſe Queſtions are ſufficient to ſhew into what Extravagancies Men may be led by the Freedom of Enquiry, ſome, though not expunged from the Book of Debates, are yet omitted here, as too impious and blaſphemous to be repeated.

POLITICAL QUESTIONS. ‘Whether the Power lodged in a Prime Miniſter, be not too great to be entruſted with any Subject; and if, in [72] Time, it will not ſap the very Vitals of our Conſtitution? ARISTARCHUS. ‘Whether, if it can be undeniably proved, that a K— has broke his Coronation Oath, the Subjects are not diſcharged from their Allegiance? DUBITOR. ‘Whether a Monarch, who loads an undeſerving Favourite with Treaſures, and who hears and ſees every thing with HIS Ears and Eyes, merits the glorious Title of a Patriot King, notwithſtanding the fulſome Adulation and ſervile Compliments paid him by dependent Sycophants and venal Authors? REPUBLICANUS. ‘Whether the great Snow we had ſome time paſt*, attended with a ſmart Froſt, has not had a wonderful Effect in freezing [73] and congealing the Senſes of ſome certain Miniſters? SARCASTICUS. ‘Whether a King, who, in a Speech he makes from his Throne, ſolemnly declares he will perform certain Actions which he never does perform, aſſerts manifeſt Falſehoods that are evident to the whole Nation, and endeavours to make his Subjects believe that black is white, and that two and two make five, is a better Monarch than Alfred or Conſtantine? ANTONINUS. ‘Whether the Smiles of a Monarch can purify the Heart of a Gameſter, or the Bed of a Counteſs ſanctify Lewdneſs and Adultery, notwithſtanding both the UTOPIAN Monarch and Counteſs are bedawbed over by venal Pens, and repreſented as Pious, Good, Great, and every Thing that is excellent? DUN SCOTUS. ‘Whether the notorious Practice of the Miniſtry's interfering with the Election of Members of Parliament, and the Arts of Bribery and Corruption, ſo univerſally known to be made Uſe of on thoſe [74] Occaſions, do not reflect Diſhonour on the — that permits or connives at thoſe illegal Practices, which manifeſtly tend to deſtroy the Freedom of the Subject? MARCUS AURELIUS. ‘Whether triennial Parliaments would not be for the good of this Nation? AUGUSTUS.

THESE are ſome of the Religious and Political Queſtions debated by the Society, and from their Nature and Tendency the Reader is enabled to judge of the reſt. He may obſerve, that the moſt abſtruſe, and the moſt eaſy Subjects, are alike debated on; thoſe that the greateſt human Faculties cannot reach, and thoſe that the verieſt Blockhead can underſtand.

THE Abſurdity of ſuch Queſtions muſt appear to every one. What can be more ridiculous, than for a Society of Philoſophers and Chriſtians to endeavour to explain Myſteries, to fathom what is unfathomable, and to conceive what is inconceivable? Such is the Pride of human Wit, and ſuch our Delight in reconciling Paradoxes, and fighting with Shadows, that we neglect the Study of Subjects that are of [75] the laſt Importance, and eaſy to be underſtood, and employ our Thoughts on thoſe that are out of the Reach of finite Capacities, and which, could they be explained and underſtood, would ceaſe to be myſterious; for, as an eminent Divine has juſtly obſerved, a Myſtery explained is a Contradiction in Terms, ſince, being explained, it becomes no Myſtery at all.

NOR leſs abſurd and ridiculous is the debating on Subjects that can admit of no rational Debate, or the leaſt Doubt. Why ſhould an Aſſembly of Men, whoſe profeſſed Intention is to improve one another, propoſe a Queſton, Whether Vice is Vice or not? For that is the whole Purport of the ſixth Political Queſtion before ſet down. That Vice is intrinſically Vice, in Subject or in King, can admit of no Diſpute: No Power, no Rank, no Fortune can alter the Eſſence of Things, however they may gild them over, and conceal their native Horror. As to the other Queſtions, both Religious and Political, I forbear commenting on them: But I muſt needs obſerve, that I think the firſt are extremely indecent, and the latter vaſtly bold, to be diſcuſſed in a public Society; to ſay nothing of the Application [76] that every one cannot help making when attentively conſidering the laſt.

I COME now to perform the Promiſe I before made, of giving a conciſe Account of a few of the principal Speakers in this illuſtrious Society: But as ſome of them are ſtill living, inſtead of their real Names, I ſhall characteriſe them under fictitious ones.

POMPONIUS ATTICUS was a young Gentleman of Genius and Judgment, of a graceful Preſence, and ready Elocution. But Fancy frequently got the better of ſober Reflection, and hurried him into Inconſiſtencies and Paradoxes, which all his Wit and Learning could not ſupport. He was, according to the received Meaning of the Word, a Deiſt; but, according to a true Expreſſion of that Character, an Unbeliever of the Truth of the Chriſtian Religion, and the Divinity of its Author. He had an Eſtate left him by his deceaſed Father, of ſeven hundred a Year, which he had mortgaged to almoſt its full Value at different Times, and diſſipated the Produce in the Purſuit of faſhionable Vices and Follies; ſo that, at the Age of twenty-ſeven, when he firſt became a [77] Member of the Eſſex-Head Society, an Annuity for Life of ſixty Pounds only remained. A looſe and diſorderly Life generally brings on ſome Rebukes of Conſcience, and ſome alarming Reflections. To prevent their Influence, returning Appetite and ſtrong Temptation preſent themſelves, and enliſting the Will under their Banners, Reaſon is ſeduced, and Conſcience ſmothered. But, as under the moſt mountainous Oppreſſion, theſe rigid Monitors will call ſorth, with a loud Voice, and bid their Maſter beware of the gilded Poiſon that preſents itſelf to his View, and daſh the unbleſſed Cup from his deſiring Lips; ſo, POMPONIUS feeling the dreadful Conſequences of Vice, and attending to the Monitors within, reſolved to reform his Life, and to forſake the Companions of his Wickedneſs. But this Reſolution was but tranſitory: The firſt fine Woman he ſaw diſarmed him, and he fell from his Heroiſm. A Continuance in Wickedneſs debilitates the Faculties, and urges us to defend what we practiſe. Inſtead, therefore, of leaving off the Practice of Vice, POMPONIUS began to extenuate it—to juſtify it—and to admire it. He now commenced a philoſophic Rake, defended his Actions by Figures of Speech, and harangued [78] on the Expediency and Utility of Fornication, with the choiceſt Metaphors. He was now ſurpriſed at his former Puſillanimity and Doubt; and was clearly of Opinion, that the Practice of Whoredom was juſtifiable by Reaſon, that great Lord Chief Juſtice in the Court of Man, and tended greatly to the Support of the Common-Wealth. The Tranſition of this State of Mind, into a perfect Compoſure and Serenity in the Practice of Vice, is very quick. Before we have deviated from the Path of Duty, indeed, Conſcience, that ill-natured Snarler, that Enemy to our Happineſs, ſuggeſts a thouſand Reaſons for our Continuance in the ſame Road, and pretends to aſſert, that the pleaſant Views, and delightful Proſpects we ſee on each Side of us, are unreal, and a mere Mockery of the Senſes; and warns us, with an an earneſt and a loud Voice, not to forſake the Road we are in, to graſp at Shadows, or to catch Butterflies. Nobly diſdaining to be controuled by ſo rigid a Monitor, we quit the Path in which we ſafely trod, and turn towards the Bowers of Bliſs, and Beds of Roſes, where Syrens ſolicit our Approach, and urge us to recreate our jaded Senſes, and refreſh our tired Limbs. We comply with the kind [79] Invitation: We are lulled to reſt by the ſoft Melody of enſnaring Voices: We enter the Bowers of Bliſs; we throw ourſelves on the Beds of Roſes, fully perſuaded we ſhall there be happy—But, ah! what Horror invades us, when we find Harpies and Furies are the Inhabitants of thoſe Bowers, and that Adders, and Vipers, and Scorpions, lurk beneath the Roſe Beds!

So was it with POMPONIUS. But of the latter Pa t of this Deſcription he experienced not the Truth, 'till Conviction came to him on a Death-Bed—Frequenting the Eſſex-Head Society, he was conſidered by all as a fine Speaker, and cloſe Reaſoner. No Chriſtian dared enter the Liſts with our Unbeliever; but if, raſh and impetuous, by Chance any one attempted it, he was ſure of being foiled.

IN this Manner he went on 'till he arrived at the Age of Forty, happy in his Vices, and perfectly convinced of their Innocence. His deiſtical Notions were confirmed by the Authority of many Writers of the firſt Note, and many Speakers of the ſame Sentiments, that attended the Society; and they encouraged [80] each other in them, and from Time to Time entertained the World with their Productions, in Order, as themſelves obſerved, that the Cauſe of Truth ſhould be propagated, and Bigotry and Superſtition be baniſhed from the World.

A MELANCHOLY Sequel remains to complete the Story. Shall I relate, or leave the Imagination to gueſs at the Power of Sickneſs, and the Proſpect of Death?—No; there is no Occaſion. Suffice it to ſay, that the witty, the facetious, the learned POMPONIUS, retracted the Opinions he had eſpouſed, and declared that he felt Chriſtianity was no empty Name, no Juggle or Trick put upon Mankind by artful Prieſts, to fetter Reaſon, and impoſe on the Senſes, but a ſubſtantial Good, which its Profeſſors may poſſeſs, but of which he could entertain no Idea, but from the Deſpair and Horror he felt from the Want of it.—Theſe Things he now declared; but where declared them? Alas! on a Bed from whence he never more aroſe into this World: His immortal Spirit freed from its Impriſonment in the Body, entered the Regions of Eternity.

[81] A VERY different Kind of Being was that whoſe Hiſtory I ſhall now give. GRIPUS was born of very mean and poor Parents at Shiffnall in Shropſhire, who, with great Difficulty, brought him up to a Knowledge of Reading and Writing. At the Age of thirteen, he was put Apprentice to a Peruke-maker, and on his Arrival to his twenty-ſecond Year, with eleven Shillings and nine Pence only, he ſet out for London. On his coming to this great City, and examining into the State of his Finances, he found he had one Shilling and three Pence Halſpenny left. With that Sum he determined to try his Fortune, and looked out for a Place in the Capacity of a Journeyman Barber. His Endeavours were crown'd with Succeſs: He found a Place, and he was happy. Nine Months he continued here, and ſaved up the Sum of ſeven Pounds nine Shillings. It was a Fortune to him, and he reſolv'd to improve it; but not in the Buſineſs he was bred to, for he found it would not anſwer his Purpoſe. With ſeven Pounds and nine Shillings only, GRIPUS enter'd the Alley, and took on him a Buſineſs he knew nothing of; but he had heard that ſmall Sums had produced [82] immenſe Fortunes in it. He was ignorant and illiterate to the laſt Degree; had no Accompliſhments that could recommend him to the Notice of the World, or reſcue him, according to all Probability, from that low and mean State he had been bred in, and was then ſubject to.

AS Fortune is hoodwink'd, and regardleſs of the Merits of her Suitors, it frequently happens, that the Unworthy are admitted into her Temple, and receiv'd as her peculiar Favourites, while the Learned and Ingenious languiſh in Obſcurity, or drag a heavy, galling Chain, condemn'd to Penury and Want. GRIPUS experienced the Truth of this Obſervation. With not a ſingle Qualification that could intitle him to the Regard of any one, or reſcue him from the ſervile and ignominious State he had been uſed to, he met with great Succeſs, and abounded in Affluence; Wealth flow'd in faſt upon him, while Men of infinitely greater Merit were ſinking beneath a Load of Misfortunes, and patiently enduring the Frowns of Fortune. The Alley prov'd a real Friend to him, and his Subſtance continually increaſed. As he grew more wealthy, he was more parſimonious; and he [83] ſeldom or never ſpent more than three Half-pence for his Breakfaſt, three Pence Half-penny for his Dinner, and three Half-pence for a Nipperkin of homebrewed, either at the Crooked Billet in Shire Lane, or the Welch Harp in Fullwood's Rents.

IN about twenty Years he had amaſſed together the Sum of Twenty Thouſand Pounds, with the greateſt Part of which he purchaſed an Eſtate in Shropſhire, and laid out the Remainder in the Stocks. His Subſtance, like a Snow-ball, was continually increaſing, and with it the Deſire of more. Like the Grave, his Luſt for Money was boundleſs, and he endeavour'd to obtain it by all the Means in his Power.

ON his Arrival to his forty-ſeventh Year, Curioſity brought him to the Eſſex Head, and Avarice kept him there. Six-pence a Night was, indeed, more than he had made it a Rule to ſpend; but for that Six-pence he might drink a Gallon or two of good Porter, and on the Days he went there, he took Care to drink none any where elſe; ſo that he juſtly [84] conſider'd, that if he drank but three full Pots, he was Three-pence Gainer.

IT can ſcarcely be expected that ſuch a Genius as I am deſcribing, could be an Orator; but he was as good a Drinker as any of them, and though he could neither ſpeak to a Queſtion, or comprehend the Force of any Argument, yet while the Debates were held, he could amuſe himſelf with his Tankard, and ſmoke his Pipe; and after they were finiſhed, could for two or three Hours longer, ſmoke his Pipe, and amuſe himſelf with his Tankard—and all for Six-pence.

IN this Manner old GRIPUS went on 'till the laſt Day of his Life, the Jeſt of Fools, the Contempt of Coxcombs, the Pity of Men of Senſe, and the Deteſtation of his Relations; though, indeed, theſe latter being needy, paid him ſome Court, and ſhewed him ſome Reſpect, which his Wealth, not his Merit, extorted; mere ‘"Mouth-Honour, which the poor Heart would fain have denied."’

GRIPUS had many Relations, who ſtood in Need of his Bounty; but, inſenſible [85] to every Thing but the Luſt of Money, dead to all the ſocial Feelings of the Soul, he cared not a Straw if his Kindred and all Mankind were at the Bottom of the Sea, ſo that he could ſtand ſafely on Land, ſurvey the Scene, and, like a Suſſex or Corniſh Savage, pillage the Wreck.

A LENGTH of Years, however, weigh'd him down at las;t, and he fell ill. Death was written in his Face, and he was pronounced incurable. The Landlord, in whoſe Houſe he had for many Years lodged by Way of Cheapneſs, had Two Hundred Pounds in his Hands belonging to GRIPUS; and this Sum, he determin'd, by ſome Artifice, to appropriate to his own Uſe. How this was to be obtain'd, was the grand Queſtion, and well worthy the Contriver's Genius. WILL was no leſs a Miſer than GRIPUS, and had, by keeping a mean, beggarly Coffee-Houſe, in a dirty Lane, ſaved up Three or Four Thouſand Pounds; but he conſider'd, that Two Hundred would be a good Addition to it. The Scheme being at length duly adjuſted, WILL made his Appearance before GRIPUS, attended by two Witneſſes, who were to ſtand concealed, hear the Diſcourſe, and, if neceſſary, give [86] in Evidence of it. ‘"I have Two Hundred Pounds of yours in my Hands, Mr. GRIPUS, ſaid WILL, and I want to know what I muſt do with it."’ GRIPUS, rack'd with Pain, and ſcarce ſenſible of any Thing, replied, ‘"Keep it yourſelf."’ A Wink of the Eye, and a Projection of the Hand, now were neceſſary, to bring the two Witneſſes forward. They came. ‘"What muſt I do with the Two Hundred Pounds, Mr. GRIPUS? As you are now, in all Probability, on a Death-bed, it is beſt to ſettle theſe Affairs."—’ ‘"You may keep it yourſelf, anſwer'd the ſick Man."’ ‘"Then you give and beſtow the Two Hundred Pounds on me, don't you?"—’ ‘"I do, reply'd he."’ This was ſufficient. WILL haſten'd down Stairs, had an Affidavit drawn of the Legacy given him, and in a ſhort Time after GRIPUS expired; That GRIPUS who lived deſpiſed and hated, and died unlamented.

ANOTHER Member of the Society, was Father MURTAGH O'FLAHERTY, a Popiſh Prieſt. Ireland gave him Birth, St. Omer's Education, and England a good Income. He had for a long Time, [87] after his Return from St. Omer's, reſided in the North of Ireland, and was look'd on as a very learned and able Divine. The Aged revered him for his Judgment; and the Youthful for his gay and lively Diſpoſition, freed from the Auſterity and Rigour that frequently make Wiſdom odious. MURTAGH would demonſtrate with the greateſt Clearneſs, that Mirth and Chearfulneſs were not in the leaſt inconſiſtent with Religion; that a Bottle of good Claret fortified the Body, and raiſed the Spirits; and that the Joys which a good Tavern and boon Companions afford, were not to be deſpiſed by Men of Senſe.

IN Conſequence of this natural Propenſity, this longing Deſire to be happy, and to make others ſo, Father MURTAGH would frequent Clubs, and ſing Catches, ſpeak Speeches, drink Toaſts, break Glaſſes, and tell merry Stories, with any one: And though ſome rigid Prieſts, and ſevere Moraliſts, would cenſure him behind his Back for his immoral Conduct, as they term'd it, yet, when he appear'd before them, he had ſuch a pretty Way, ſuch a forcible Method of vindicating his Behaviour, and winning their Affections, that [88] they could not find in their Hearts to blame him.

BUT, with ſuch Accompliſhments, if he was a Favourite of the Men, what muſt he be with the Women? They perfectly idolized him, and, in Return, Father MURTAGH had no leſs Paſſion and Veneration for them. Indeed, there was another Circumſtance, which, though it may be deem'd a Trifle by ſome Folks, had a wonderful Effect in forcing the Affections of the Fair. As he acted in the Character of a Confeſſor, to rivet the Eſteem of his Penitents, he uſed Lenity inſtead of Severity, and in Caſes where ſome Confeſſors would have ſcourged with a Rod of Iron, he rebuked with the Mildneſs of a Father, and exhorted them to a contrary Conduct, if they would avoid his juſt Indignation. Theſe lenient and gentle Methods prevail'd where rough and violent ones would not. The human Mind is rather won by Entreaty, than dragged by Force, and receives Conviction from a Friend that ſoothes its Anguiſh, and makes Allowance for its Frailties; when, by a contrary Conduct, venial Error might riſe to Guilt, and youthful Indulgence [89] terminate in confirmed Wickedneſs and obſtinate Villainy.

FATHER MURTAGH being ſuch a profeſſed Admirer of the Fair, and treating them with ſuch Mildneſs, he had ſo won their Hearts, that they reſounded his Praiſes continually. They inſiſted on it, he was the beſt Prieſt in the Kingdom, the moſt learned and judicious Man, and infinitely the beſt qualified to be a Confeſſor. In ſhort, they would confeſs to no one but Father MURTAGH. Father MURTAGH was the univerſal Cry.

THIS Trade continued ſo long, that a Conſpiracy was formed by his envious Brethren againſt his Monopoly, and by Force of Bribes and Numbers, he fell a Victim to popular Wrath, and prieſtly Artifice.

FOR a long Time the good Man, poor and friendleſs, wandered about, a melancholy Proof of the unhappy Fate that may attend Men of the greateſt Parts, and of the Want of Gratitude for paſt Favours, when the Power of continuing them is taken away.

[90] FINDING he could ſcarcely ſupport himſelf in Ireland, he came to London, and ſoon formed an Acquaintance with many People of his own Religion. An Iriſh Roman Catholick Prieſt need never fear wanting a Beef-Steak and a Pot of Porter for his Dinner in London: Nay, he need not fear wanting Veniſon or Ortolans, and good Claret. There are Abundance of Papiſts in this City, who regard their Prieſts as ſo many Demi-Gods, and who will think themſelves as highly honoured with their Preſence at Dinner or Supper, as BAUCIS and PHILEMON thought themſelves by the Preſence of their heavenly Gueſt; and in conſequence of this Opinion, the Markets are ranſacked for the choiceſt Viands, and the Wine Vaults for the beſt Wines, to entertain them. As ſtolen Interviews between Lovers are the ſweeteſt, ſo the Neceſſity the Roman Catholic Clergy are under to keep themſelves concealed, in order to gain Proſelytes, and pervert the People to their Religion, give a Reliſh to their Entertainments which they would otherwiſe want.

FATHER MURTAGH ſoon ſaved up a good deal of Money, and lived as elegantly [91] as his Heart could wiſh. He attended every Monday night at the Eſſex-Head, ſpoke to the Queſtions in the Character of a Proteſtant, yet could not help betraying the cloven Foot on ſome Occaſions. After the Debates of the Evening were over, and the Company entered into private Conferences with each other, Father Murtagh would ſingle out that Perſon whom he conceived moſt fit for his Purpoſe, and uſe the greateſt Induſtry and exert all his Abilities, to depreciate the eſtabliſhed Religion of this Kingdom, and extol that of the Roman Catholic, and his Endeavours were often ſucceſsful.

HE is now very old, and having for many Years attended at the Eſſex-Head Society, he comes to the Robinhood; but not conſtantly, on Account of his Age and Infirmities.

BOB SCAMPER was a Man very different from the three I have been deſcribing: BOB was born in the Weſt of England, and was reckoned a Youth of enterpriſing Genius, and ready Parts. At the Age of eighteen he came to London, and having ſpent the five Guineas he brought up with him on Women of the Town, [92] was greatly at a Loſs to what to betake himſelf. Poverty ſtared him in the Face, and tho' he had ſome good natural Parts, and a great Aſſurance, yet having no Learning, he could get no genteel Employment. His Female aſſociates, however, ſoon furniſhed Hints, which a Lad of his ready Wit and enterpriſing Spirit, eaſily underſtood, and as intrepidly executed. He turned Collector on the Road, and having Succeſs, rioted in the Spoils he had taken, and with his Girls enjoyed all the Happineſs he deſired: Not but that ſometimes it was daſhed with ſome Remorſe, and the Dread of the fatal Conſequences that might enſue. But Exceſs of drinking, the Company of Libertines, and the Converſation of his Women, diſperſed the Clouds that obſcured his Happineſs, and confirmed him in the Reſolution he had taken to plunder and rob the Public, and to gain a Livelihood by the bold Hands of Violence.

A CONTINUANCE in Wickedneſs familiariſes the Mind to it, and what at firſt a Man would ſtart even to think of, he at length practiſes without Horror. All Guilt is progreſſive: We go not at once, but Step by Step, into the Extremes of Vice; and tho' it is impoſſible to ſilence the Cries [93] of Conſcience, and to ſtifle the Dictates of Reaſon all at once, yet an habitual Violation of their Admonitions, brings us to an Inſenſibility of the Horror of our Crimes, and renders us quite callous to the Senſe of Shame, and deaf to every Thing but the importunate Cravings of ſenſual Appetite.

BOB SCAMPER experienced the Truth of theſe Obſervations. In the Day-Time he mounted his Horſe, and robbed on the Highway with the ſame Compoſure, as any other Man follows his cuſtomary Occupation, and at Night he ſpent the illgot Treaſure among Whores and Thieves, the Encouragers of his Wickedneſs, and the Sharers of his Spoils.

THIS was a worthy Member of a Society that met to improve themſelves by free and candid Inquiry; but Captain SCAMPER, as he was intitled, was well received by all. He was a tall handſome Fellow, endued with a Power of Face that diſdained a Bluſh, and though not wiſe was witty, though not learned was ingenious, and had a Power of impoſing on the Underſtandings of thoſe he converſed with, and making them believe him to be what he was not. He dreſſed well, had a free [94] and degagée Air, wanted not Words, and addreſſed the Paſſions of thoſe he converſed with, with ſuch Skill and Succeſs, that you could not help giving him Credit for much more Underſtanding than he poſſeſſed.

THERE are two Kinds of People that are better thought of in moſt Companies, than their intrinſic Merit deſerves: Theſe are the ſolemn Prig, and well-dreſſed Coxcomb. The firſt, by the Help of a fulltrimmed grave Suit, and a large Peruque, a ſagacious Look, and a ſlow Delivery, ſhall make you take him for a ſecond SOLON. The moſt unmeaning Speech, the triteſt Obſervation, the moſt ſuperficial Hint, delivered in a dry, yet important, ſlow but ſolemn Tone, and enforced by ſome ſhakes of the Head, ſhrugs of the Shoulders, and ſignificant Hand-Oratory, ſhall be received as the Dictates of Wiſdom, and procure the Speaker the Character of the SOLOMON of the Age.

THE other, aided by his Taylor, Millener, and Barber, tho' he gives Vent to the Fulneſs of his Soul only by dry Jokes, and inſipid Remarks, is yet liſtened to with [95] Attention, and heard with Pleaſure. No one will dare to contradict the Aſſertions of a Wit, with laced Cloaths, Bag-Wig, and a Sword; and thus Folly is received for Wiſdom, and vivacious Impudence for Genius.

SCAMPER was to be ranked in this ſecond Claſs of Orators. He ſpoke to every Queſtion, and tho' what he ſaid had no great Depth or much Meaning in it, yet being delivered from the Mouth of a Man that was extremely well dreſſed, and with no bad Accent or ill Grace, it was always well received, and the Speaker was conſidered as a very great Genius, and an Ornament to the Society.

BUT this Ornament of the Society did not laſt above five Years and a Half. He had committed a Robbery on Hounſlow-Heath, and taken a Booty of no leſs than three Hundred Guineas. The Gentleman he had robbed, happened accidentally to come to the Eſſex-Head one Monday Evening, and the Moment he entered the Room, Captain SCAMPER had got up to ſpeak to the Queſtion. The Queſtion was

[96] Whether the Doctrine of Repentance taught by the Chriſtian Religion, has not a manifeſt Tendency to encourage Wickedneſs?
DEISTICUS.

SCAMPER, after deſiring the Preſident to read the Queſtion again, ſpoke to it in the beſt Manner he could. He vindicated Chriſtianity in general, and demonſtrated that all its Doctrines tended to the Support of Morality, by diſcountenancing all Manner of Vice. He ſhewed its ſuperior Excellency over all the Religions that had ever appeared in the World; he proved the Authenticity of the Sacred Writings, and defied the Deiſts, with all their Ingenuity, to point out any Defects in them. He obſerved of our Saviour's Sermon on the Mount, that as it comprehended in one conciſe View, all the Doctrines and Precepts of Chriſtiany, ſo it was the moſt ſublime Syſtem of Ethics in the World. He took Notice, that not only the Philoſophers and Sages of the Heathen World, conſidered abſtractedly, were unable to form a complete Syſtem of moral Duties, but that all their Writings put together were inſufficient to form ſuch a Syſtem, and that if all their Morality was [97] to be extracted, that is, all their Excellencies to be reduced into a Syſtem, it would ſtill be an imperfect one. He then ſpoke more immediately to the Queſtion, and delivered it as his Opinion, that the Doctrine of Repentance, as taught by the eſtabliſhed Church, of which, he ſaid, he was not aſhamed to own himſelf a Member, ſo far from encouraging Wickedneſs, had the greateſt Tendency imaginable to annihilate it; for he obſerved, that the Repentance taught in the Goſpel, is not merely a Sorrow for our paſt Sins, but likewiſe a Reſolution of reforming our Conduct for the future. As to the Objection that had been brought by a Deiſt, who obſerved, that Repentance was no Atonement, he ſaid, it was very true, if we ſpeak as Deiſts, but if we believe as Chriſtians, it muſt be looked on as an Atonement, ſince GOD, in thoſe Books which Chriſtians believe were written by his Inſpiration, has been graciouſly pleaſed to declare, he will receive it as ſuch. Our Duty he obſerved, without Doubt, it was always incumbent on us to practiſe; and after the Commiſſion of the greateſt Sins, and our ſincere Repentance of them, we perform no more than our Duty, by living a Righteous and a Holy Life: But as the Deity had declared to [98] every one, even the greateſt of Sinners, that though his Crimes were as red as Scarlet, yet by Repentance the ſhould be made as white as Snow; it is certainly a Doctrine that encourages the Soul, and ſupports it under the Reproaches of Conſcience, that would otherwiſe whip us with her Scorpions, and throw us into the Agonies of Deſpair and Horror. He concluded, by drawing a Contraſt between the Repentance of the Proteſtant, and the Abſolution of the Roman Catholic Church; and inſiſted, that the former tended to our ſpiritual and temporal Welfare, and the latter to the Deſtruction of both.

DURING all the Time this great Advocate for Religion and Morality was ſpeaking, the Gentleman eyed him attentively, and thought he had ſeen him ſomewhere before. He went up cloſe to him, and after a minute examination of his Perſon and Manner, at length recollected that it was on Hounſlow-Heath he had the Miſfortune to have ſeen him. Without ſaying any Thing to him, or to the Company, he withdrew, and in about a Quarter of an Hour returned with his Servant, who was preſent at the Robbery, and with a Conſtable, who was to take Care of SCAMPER, [99] if the Servant agreed with his Maſter in the Identity of the Perſon.

THE Servant had no ſooner entered the Room, than, without his Maſter's pointing the Object out, he ſwore that the tall Gentleman in laced Cloaths, near the Preſident, was the Man that robbed his Maſter on Hounſlow-Heath. This was ſufficient. The Conſtable went up to him, and tapping him on the Shoulder, ſaid, he ſhould be glad to ſpeak to him. The Captain obeyed, and they withdrew out of the Diſputing-Room, attended by the Gentleman and his Servant. They had no ſooner reached the Stairs, than SCAMPER wanted to know the Gentleman's Commands. ‘"Oh, ſays the Conſtable, there is a Coach waiting at the Door, and if you'll enter it, you'll know preſently."’ SCAMPER declin'd it, but the Conſtable was importunate, and being ſomewhat irritated at his Obſtinacy, told him he muſt enter it. The Captain ſtared, bit his Lips, and was mute. The Gentleman and his Servant now came up, and the latter opening the Coach-Door, waited for his Maſter to enter. But he was too complaiſant to go in before the Captain, and bowing to him, aſked him to go in [100] firſt. The Captain ſtill declin'd it, and they inſiſted on it in a higher Tone, and declar'd that he ſhould go whether he would or not. Already was half the Captain's Sword out of the Scabbard, and he had reſolv'd to reſiſt their utmoſt Efforts, when a Whiſtle from the Conſtable made him ſtare, and of a Sudden ſuſpend his Action. Immediately three ſtrapping Fellows came up, and the Conſtable pointing to SCAMPER, and telling them to do their Duty, they took away his Sword, hurried him into the Coach, the Gentleman, his Servant, and the Conſtable following, and drove off to Juſtice DE VEIL'S.

I SHALL not multiply Words. The Gentleman and his Servant ſwore poſitively that he was the Perſon that robb'd them on Hounſlow Heath. He was ſearch'd. A Powder Horn, a Pair of Piſtols, a Maſk, and ſome other Things were found on him. His Mittimus was made, and he was ſent to Newgate.

IN a Fortnight, Abundance of People ſwore to their being robb'd by him; and by means of ſome of his Girls, three of his Confederates were taken, and ſent to bear him Company. In due Time, their Trials [101] came on at the Old Baily, and they were found guilty, and ſentenced to be hang'd.

SCAMPER had very little Hopes of gaining a Reprieve, yet did not prepare for Death in the Manner he ought. His favourite Doctrine, Repentance, he hardly thought of, at leaſt he did not practiſe it. He drank to ſuch Exceſs, that when the Hour came that he was to ſuffer an ignominious Death in the Sight of a numerous and gaping Populace, he ſeem'd quite inſenſible of his Fate.

HE was put into the Cart with his Companions, and they were driven to Tyburn. The fatal Rope was faſten'd round their Necks—the Ordinary told them they were going to another World—the Cart was driven away—and they were left ſuſpended in the Air.

THUS periſh'd BOB SCAMPER, a Man of no mean Abilities, but who proſtituted them to infamous Purpoſes, and lived an immoral, vicious Life, though ever haranguing in the Society, on the Beauty of Holineſs, and the Neceſſity of Repentance.—I wiſh this were not a common Caſe in the World.

[102] ANOTHER Member of the Society, not leſs worthy than this, was TOM RAKEWELL. TOM, after having receiv'd an Education, that barely enabled him to read and write, was ſent from the Weſt of England to London, and there bound Apprentice to a Grocer. But TOM'S Genius was not to be confin'd within ſo narrow a Channel. He ſoared to higher Things, and was ambitious enough to attempt getting on the Stage, where all his Deſires were placed, and all his Hopes terminated. He offer'd himſelf to FLEETWOOD, the Manager, and was refuſed. Not daunted, however, at this Repulſe, he ran away from his Maſter in the third Year of his Apprenticeſhip, went to Norwich, where a Company of Strollers were then performing, made a Tender of his Services, and was accepted. The pitiful Income of a ſtrolling Player was too ſcanty for our Hero, and the Debts he had contracted were ſo numerous, and his Creditors ſo preſſing, that Norwich became quickly too hot to hold him. He, therefore, ſet out from that Place for Newcaſtle upon Tyne, where there was another Company of Players: But, to enable himſelf to travel with greater Conveniency, he took with [103] him as large a Bundle of the Manager's Cloaths as he could carry, and ſet out early in the Morning in a Poſt-Chaiſe.

HE quickly converted his Effects into ready Money, and reach'd Newcaſtle in two Days. But he was ſoon forced to decamp. The News of his being there, having reached his quondam Companions at Norwich, a Hue and Cry was raiſed, and two of the Actors were ſent to Newcaſtle to apprehend him. RAKEWELL, by ſome Means, had Intelligence of their Arrival, and gueſſed their Errand; but declin'd the Honour of their Company, by leaving the Town ſo precipitately, that he had not even Time to pay the Landlord of the Inn he had ſet up at, a Score of thirty-ſeven ſhillings.

FROM hence he went to Exeter, at which Town he was born; and going to his Father, told him a long Story of his Maſter's ill Uſage, and of the Impoſſibility of his living with him. His Father produced a Letter from his Maſter, informing him of his Son's running away without any Cauſe, but of his Readineſs to pardon him if he would return. The Father and Son had now a great Conteſt, and the Maſter's [104] Letter had greater Weight with the old Man, than the Son's Aſſertions. He, however, promiſed RAKEWELL, that he would write to his Maſter in his Favour, and that 'till he could receive an Anſwer, he might ſtay with him. The Son acquieſced with the Propoſal, ſeem'd pleaſed with it, and the old Man immediately wrote, extenuating his Son's Guilt, and apologizing for the Miſconduct which the Weakneſs incident to Youth had drawn him into.

THREE Days after, TOM got up at One in the Morning, and opening a Bureau, found a Purſe with no leſs than fifty-ſeven Guineas in it, being the poor old Man's whole Fortune, and which he had been hoarding up ever ſince his Son was firſt ſent to London, out of the ſmall Profits that accrued to him from a little Trade he had as a Peruke-maker. This was a Fortune to the over-joyed Youth, and putting it ſafe in his Pocket, he took his Stick, and walk'd 'till Seven in the Morning very briſkly, when he had reach'd ****. Here he breakfaſted, and the Stage-Coach coming by, he agreed with the Driver for his Paſſage to London.

[105] HE had no ſooner arriv'd at the Metropolis, than the Scenes he had before been engag'd in, were renew'd, and the ſame Pranks play'd over again. While he was in his Apprenticeſhip, an indulgent Maſter had permitted him, after the Buſineſs of the Night was over, and Shop was ſhut, to ſpend his Evenings abroad. A Youth of ſuch a Diſpoſition as TOM had, it may naturally be imagin'd, did not ſpend them in very good Company, nor very innocently. The Houſes he frequented were either Brothels, or Night-Houſes, and the Company conſiſted of wild, and thoughtleſs young Apprentices like himſelf, or thorough-paced Rogues, who initiated the young ones into all the iniquitous Schemes and Arts they were Maſters of. Tutors of Villainy like theſe, for whom Tyburn groans, abound in Houſes of this Sort, and young Scholars attend there in great Numbers.

TOM keeping very bad Hours, was frequently lock'd out; but after he had the Experience of three Weeks Learning from a Veteran, he knew how to ſeduce his Maſter's Maid, and to prevail on her to let him in at any Hour. This Kindneſs went not unrewarded: To diſcharge his [106] Obligations to her, TOM robb'd his Maſter of Tea, Sugar, Spices and Snuff.

THIS was a pretty Life, which he now not only renew'd, but improv'd. He became a complete Buck and Blood, ſallied out every Night in Queſt of Adventures, beat the Watch, bullied Conſtables, demoliſhed Lamps, kicked Waiters, bilked Bawdy-Houſes, and went Home reeling to Bed.

ABOUT the Time he return'd to London from Exeter, he attended the Eſſex-Head Society. Their Debates charmed him, and he thought if he could be admitted a Member of ſo reſpectable and learned a Body, he ſhould be quite happy. If Happineſs conſiſted in being a Member, he was ſoon in Poſſeſſion of it, for he was choſen Nem. Con.

RAKEWELL had a great Talent for Diſputation. He had a ready Wit, great Volubility of Speech, and wanted not for a conſummate Aſſurance. Theſe Accompliſhments muſt have endeared him greatly to the Society, and he was look'd on as a valuable Acquiſition. It is true, there was no Solidity of Judgment, no Depth of Knowledge in him, any more [107] than in his Friend SCAMPER; but he had no leſs Art in exciting the Admiration of the Superficial, and the Ignorant, (a vaſt Body of Men!) and in making his Tinſel Ornaments paſs for real Plate.

RAKEWELL's chief Fort was Religion. He diſtinguiſh'd himſelf greatly on Subjects of this Kind, and was thought to be as good an Orthodox Member as any in the Society. He combated the Deiſts with the invincible Armour of Revealed Religion, and played off the great Guns of Myſteries againſt them with no little Succeſs. As the Doctrine of occult Cauſes is the greateſt Friend of Metaphyſicians and natural Philoſophers, and ſerves as a Retreat for them where no Foes can enter; ſo, when preſſed by Argument, or urged by Authority, the Deiſts would demand Reaſons for Aſſertions, and Proofs for Ipſe Dixits, RAKEWELL would prudently retire from the Charge, and tell them that where Faith begins, Reaſon ends—that the Natural Man cannot comprehend Spiritual Subjects—that what is an Object of Faith, cannot be intelligible by Reaſon—and that though Revealed Religion may ſeem above Reaſon, yet it is not againſt it. Theſe, and many other Anſwers of the like Kind, he gave to the Heterodox [108] Gentry, and ever ſhew'd an inviolable Reſolution to defend Religion in general, and the Eſtabliſh'd Church in particular, againſt all the Attacks of their Foes: In Conſequence of which, the Society look'd on him as an honourable Member, and a very learned and ingenious Man. After Debates on ſuch Subjects, and Holy Arguments alledged in Favour of his Opinions, our Orator would leave the Society, and proceed to his uſual Night Entertainments, of breaking the Lamps, and going Home to his Girls, where he rioted in Exceſs of Wickedneſs.

BY ſome Means or other, RAKEWELL had got acquainted with an old Maiden Lady, worth no leſs than Thirteen Hundred Pounds. After paying his Addreſſes to her for ſome Time, he gain'd her Heart, and a Day was propoſed for Marriage. The antiquated Virgin, not doubting the Honour of her Lover, the Day before the intended Marriage, transferr'd over her whole Fortune to him. The Lover was now happy. He ſold out the Thirteen Hundred Pounds Old South Sea Annuities, and Three per Cent. Bank Annuities, immediately. With the Money theſe produced, he ſet up a Chariot and Pair, took genteel Lodgings in Pall-Mall, [109] and appear'd in every Reſpect as a Man of Fortune, quite regardleſs of the Attempts that might be made on him by the Sons of Law, and hoping to find out ſome other wealthy Dame, with whom he might meet with equal Succeſs.

BUT though RAKEWELL was ſafe with Reſpect to the Revenge threaten'd him by the Lady he had tricked, and her Friends, yet his high Living and Extravagance ſoon diſſipated his Subſtance, and he was at a Loſs what to do. Paying ready Money for ſome Time, however, induced Tradeſmen to give him Credit; and having run in Tick to the Amount of Three Hundred Pounds, with various People; and being dunned, and threatened ſeveral Times by the moſt Importunate of them, he was induced to ſhift his Quarters, to go away from his Lodgings without ſettling with his Landlord or his Footman (for he kept one to the laſt) and ſet out again for Exeter.

ON his Arrival there he told his Father a miſerable Story, of his having been robbed of Five Hundred Guineas, of his having a Combat with the Highwaymen that had robbed him, and of his having employ'd ſeveral active Fellows to go in Search of them. His Father ſeeing him [110] well-dreſſed, and appear more like a Lord than his Son, teſtified his Joy at his Return. RAKEWELL then voluntarily mentioned his having robbed him of fifty-ſeven Guineas; and, putting a Bill in his Hand, drawn on the moſt eminent Banker in London, for One Hundred Pounds, told him, he was not to look on that as a Recompence in full, but as an Earneſt only of what he ſhould receive. He then informed him of his having married a Lady worth Twenty Thouſand Pounds but a Fortnight ago; that he was then going to Penzance to ſettle Affairs with her Guardian, and would return to London in five Days, where his Lady impatiently expected him.

THE good old Man was ſo overjoy'd at hearing this Account of his Son's good Fortune, that he fell on his Neck, and kiſſed him, and with Tears in his Eyes told him, that he was glad to hear of his Succeſs in Life; but that he had no Occaſion for the Hundred Pounds he had given him, he having, by his Care and Induſtry, ſince his leaving him laſt, ſaved up Twenty-ſeven Pounds; and therefore he begged him to take back again his generous Gift of a Hundred Pounds, as, till his Affairs were ſettled, he might have Occaſion for it.

[111] BUT this RAKEWELL declined, and obſerved, that the Trifle he had given him, he could well ſpare; that he inſiſted on his keeping it; and that in a Fortnight he might have the Pleaſure of trebling it to him. The old Man, filled with Joy at ſeeing ſuch a Son, ſeemed perfectly happy; went about to his Friends—told them of his Son's good Fortune—invited them to his Houſe—bought the greateſt Dainties he could poſſibly procure—and at Eight at Night the Houſe was full of Gueſts, drinking Wine, Punch, and Beer, while roaſt Geeſe were at the Fire, Fowls in the Pot, and ſome other ſubſtantial Diſhes provided, to entertain the Friends on the Prodigal's Return; a Prodigal, that had been guilty of ſome Errors, that had been bred in Obſcurity, and was now raiſed to great Grandeur.

THE Evening was ſpent in great Jolity, and all but RAKEWELL were perfecty intoxicated. After all the Company was gone, the old Man, whoſe Heart was now quite merry, went to a private Cloſet, took out a Bottle of excellent Citron Water, and deſired his Son to take a Glaſs. The Son obeyed him, and the Father followed the Example. One Glaſs introduced [112] another, another followed, and, in ſhort, the Duumvirate emptied the Bottle. The Son was now what they call half-ſeas over; but the old Man was ſo intoxicated, he could heither ſit or ſtand. With ſome Difficulty RAKEWELL got him to-bed, took the Key out of the Door, locked it, and then—went down Stairs.

HE began now to ranſack the Houſe, immediately ſeized the old Man's twenty-ſeven Pounds, and took every Thing away he could conveniently carry. He then went to the Inn he had put up at on his firſt coming to Town, ordered a Poſt Chaiſe, and told the Driver to go on as faſt as he could.

A CHANGE of Chaiſes ſoon brought him to London; and it happening to be on a Monday Night, he attended at the Eſſex-Head Society, and ſpoke to the Queſtion, which was;

Whether, even in this World, a vicious and immoral Man, is not ſeverely puniſhed? And if Virtue diſtreſſed, does not feel greater Happineſs than exalted Vice? PLATO.

[113]RAKEWELL took the Affirmative Side of the Queſtion, and proved, beyond all Manner of Contradiction, that Vice and Immorality met with its Puniſhment, by inflicting the Stings of Conſcience at preſent, and the Dread of future Pain. Not that this Doctrine, he obſerved, tended in the leaſt to ſet aſide that of a future Retribution of Rewards and Puniſhments in another State; where, as we are taught by the Chriſtian Religion, that Suffering Virtue will meet its ample Reward, and Triumphant Vice be ſuitably puniſhed: But the Commiſſion of good Actions, and the Conſciouſneſs of our having performed our Duty, gave a placid Serenity to our Minds, and a Compoſure to our Thoughts: A Felicity which the Huzzas of applauding Thouſands could not give, nor the Hiſſes of detracting and bitter Enemies take away. He took Notice alſo of the Diſtreſſes and Agonies of Mind a wicked Man always laboured under, through a Fear of being expoſed, and his Wickedneſs revealed to the World; which would conſequentially draw on him the ſevere Penalties of the Law, and the juſt Deteſtation of Mankind. He inſiſted on it, that the continual Apprehenſions of Diſcovery a wicked Man muſt be under, and [114] the Terrors of an abuſed Conſcience, muſt prevent the Approaches of Happineſs, and daſh the Cup of Pleaſure with a great Degree of nauſeous and bitter Herbs. He then launched out into the Pleaſures of Virtue and Religion; and made it appear, that their Votaries reaped greater Satiſfaction, and taſted a more home-felt Pleaſure than could poſſibly reſult from the higheſt Gratifications of ſenſual Appetite, or mere Animal Bliſs. To prove theſe Aſſertions, he quoted a few Authors he had either read or heard of, as Enforcers of his Sentiments, and as Authors of his Doctrine: A great Name frequently proves more than a ſound Argument; and People, with whom Learning and Reaſon have no Sort of Weight, are yet prevailed on to reſign their Judgments, and to give up their Opinions to an Antient whom Time has ſanctified, or to an illuſtrious Orthodox Writer, whoſe Notions and Sentiments have been honoured and embraced by the World.

THE Speech RAKEWELL delivered was well received, and the Society thought no one could excel him in Propriety of Thought, or Regularity of Conduct. After the Debates were over, RAKEWELL left the Society, and traverſed the Streets, [115] till he met with a Female he liked, and with whom he went to the moſt convenient Bagnio.

IN this Manner he continued for ſome Time, an unaccountable Aenigma, which none was able to ſolve: But being at ength diſcovered to have robbed a Gentleman of Eminence in Groſvenor-Square, he was tried, convicted, and condemned, and executed at Tyburn, at the very Time that his Colleague and Companion, the facetious BOB SCAMPER ſuffered.—Thus was the Society deprived of two of their beſt Members, the moſt powerful and ornamental Pillars of their Fabric.

FOR ſome ſhort Time after this the Society was obſerved to dwindle away, and its ſtaunch Advocates and firm Friends began to fear that its Diſſolution was nigh. Some imputed it to the Abſence of two of their beſt Speakers, and the Deſpair the Public in general had of hearing any Thing debated on by able Orators, now the beſt were gone: Some imagined, that the melancholy Fate of thoſe two Members deterred People from attending a Society on which they had once reflected ſuch Honour, and which was now diſgraced by [116] their ignominious Death; and ſome were earneſtly wiſhing for its Annihilation.

IT was not long, however, before the Fears of the one Party, and the Hopes of the other were turned into Certainty. The Society triumphed, their Friends rejoiced, and their Enemies were diſappointed.

To give a long Detail of every Event that happened in this Society, to particularize all their Proceedings, and to characterize all their Members, would exceed the Bounds I have preſcribed myſelf, and would be uncommonly tedious: I ſhall therefore only obſerve, that from the Time the Society was removed to the Eſſex-Head, it increaſed both in Numbers and in Reputation; and ſo well was it known, that Gentlemen who lived in the Country, as well as Foreigners of all Nations, if in the leaſt curious, learned, or ingenious, reſorted to it to hear Debates that had ſo much attracted the Attention, and extorted the Admiration of the World.

End of the SECOND PART.

THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.
PART III.

[117]

IN the Year 1747, the Society was removed to the Robinhood in Butcher-Row, at that Time kept by Mr. HALL. The Room here was vaſtly more convenient than the other: New Benches were made, in order that a greater Number of People might be admitted; a Branch for eighteen [118] Candles was ſuſpended from the Ceiling; a large Chair for the Preſident, curiouſly gilt, was erected; a Box to keep the Book of Queſtions, was provided; a Hammer was purchaſed for the Preſident; and, in ſhort, every Thing that was neceſſary to reflect Splendor on the Society, and to accommodate its Viſitants in the beſt Manner, was obtain'd by the induſtrious Landlord, who had formed great Hopes of adding a Reputation to his Houſe, and enriching himſelf, from the vaſt Concourſe of People he expected would aſſemble there.

IN order to convey the beſt Idea I can of this famous Society to the Mind of the Reader, I apprehend it is neceſſary for me to give a fuller Account of the Management of it, than I have before done.

EVERY Perſon that attended it, was to pay Six-pence; and that while theſe Diſputants were enriching their Minds with the Treaſures of Knowledge, they might alſo practiſe the God-like Virtue of Charity, they agreed, that out of every Six-pence the Landlord ſhould be paid Four-pence for each Quart of Lemonade and Porter; Three Half-pence ſhould be [119] ſet by, and appropriated to charitable Uſes, to be agreed on by a ſelect Committee appointed for that Purpoſe; and the remaining Half-penny ſhould be paid to the Clerk, as a Recompence for the Trouble he was put to, in receiving each Perſon's Ticket, and taking Care that the Society in general, and the Diſputants in particular, were duly ſerv'd with Liquor.

A PERPETUAL Preſident was alſo appointed, whoſe Name was JEACOCKE, who was to act as Moderator, and who had, indeed, given great Satisfactio nin that Character at the Eſſex-Head, for four Years. His Duty conſiſted in reading whatever Queſtions were propoſed for Conſideration, and offering them ſeparately to the Choice of the Members: Thoſe who choſe that a Queſtion, ſhould be admitted, and enter'd in the Book, were to ſignify it by holding up their Hands; and thoſe who did not think it a proper Queſtion, were to ſignify their Opinion in the ſame Manner; and the Majority carried it. After this Part of his Duty, he was to read the Queſtion for the Night's Debate, and then aſk the ſeveral Members whether they choſe to ſpeak to it, beginning [120] with the Perſon who ſat next to his left Hand, and proceeding all round the Room 'till he came to the Perſon who ſat next his right Hand. When any Perſon got up to ſpeak, he was alſo to take Minutes of what he conceiv'd to be of particular Importance, and by thus collecting the different Sentiments of different People, he was enabled, when it came to his Turn to ſpeak, to enforce the Arguments that ſtrengthen'd his own Opinion, and invalidate thoſe that were againſt it. If no Perſon thought proper to own a Queſtion, or to confeſs himſelf the Propoſer of it, then the Preſident was the adopted Father, and he open'd the Queſtion, by explaining the Terms of it, and concluded the Debates on it, by a Speech of his own; but if the Author of the Queſtion own'd it, then the Perſon next to his left Hand ſpoke to it, and it was to go round in due Order, and the Propoſer concluded it. The Preſident was likewiſe to keep Order and Decorum in the Society; to prevent any perſonal Altercations, or mean Invectives; to make them ſtick to the Point; to bring them back when they went aſtray; to ſee likewiſe with the Clerk, that the Society was well ſupplied with Liquor; and, in ſhort, to do every Thing that was for [121] the Intereſt of the Society, and the Good of the Members preſent.

BY this Account of the Duty of the Preſident, it will appear that his Trouble every Night was not little. It is always difficult to keep a promiſcuous Company in good Order; and a Society, like the ROBINHOOD, where every one is admitted for his Six-pence, muſt be liable to many Irregularities. But though the Preſident's Trouble was ſo great, yet his Attachment to, and Veneration for, the Society was ſuch, that, unlike the intereſted Conduct of moſt other Preſidents, he acted Gratis, contenting himſelf only with the Honour of the Office.

ONCE a Year a Paper was publiſh'd by the Society, containing a Juſtification of it from the Sneers of Witlings, and the Sarcaſms of ſome ſatirical Authors, and ſetting forth its Nature and Tendency; and underneath it, was an Account of the Number of People that had attended it all the Year, diſtinguiſhing the particular Number that met each Monday Night. This was thought more likely to vindicate their Conduct, and wipe off the Aſperſions that had been thrown on them, than [122] an elaborate Defence; ſince by ſeeing what a vaſt Number of People attended each Night, amounting in a Year's Time to upwards of Five Thouſand, on a moderate Computation, the Public might perceive that no leſs than Five Thouſand three Half-pennies were diſtributed in Charity, amounting to 31l. 5s.—And even ſuppoſing that the Society could not vie in Splendor with the ROYAL SOCIETY, or in Dignity with the ANTIQUARIAN, or in Numbers with the SOCIETY FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF ARTS, MANUFACTURES AND COMMERCE, and even granting their Antagoniſts Aſſertions to be true, that it was a Receptacle for the Illiterate and the Impious, where horrid and blaſphemous Notions were defended and propagated, and where Religion and Virtue were trodden under Foot; yet ſtill, it may be urged from great Authority, that Charity covers a Multitude of Sins.

THE Society now advancing in its Reputation, and ſome of the moſt diſtinguiſhed Wits and Scholars frequenting it, it greatly excited the public Attention. There was ſcarce a public Paper, but in the Courſe of its Animadverſions, the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY was taken Notice [123] of. Doctor HENLEY vindicated it from his Roſtrum, and comparing it to ſome of the famed Aſſemblies of Yore, where a CICERO, or a DEMOSTHENES harangued, he affirm'd it to be of the moſt eminent Service to Mankind, by mending their Morals, enlarging their Knowledge, and refining their Taſte; that it was infinitely preferable, conſider'd as a School of Oratory, to the Bar, or the Senate; and that it excell'd the Pulpit, both with Reſpect to the Advancement of TRUE RELIGION, and the ſpreading of Human Knowledge. Nay, he affirm'd it to be the Sun of the intellectual and moral World, that with its radiant Beams enlighten'd, chear'd, and vivified the Spiritual Syſtem, as the Firmamental Sun doth the Natural.—In ſhort, he undertook to vindicate it from his Roſtrum in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, from all the Calumnies and Aſperſions, that ever had been, or could be raiſed againſt it, and inſiſted on its being the moſt perfect human Inſtitution that was ever form'd, except—his own Oratory.

ON the other Hand, the Pulpits every where diſplay'd its evil Tendency, and reſounded with its Infamy. The Clergy were ſo much againſt it, that, Surgeonlike, [124] they diſſected and cut it up without Mercy. They averr'd, that the Houſe itſelf could not ſtand long; that it was a ſecond Pandemonium, or Aſſembly of evil Spirits; that though they at preſent triumphed, yet they would ſhortly be defeated; and that every one of the Members that compoſed it, would infallibly be d—d. Nay, one Reverend Gentleman in particular,* propheſied, ſome Years after the Period I am now deſcribing, that as it was abſolutely certain, that the Merchants that were ſettling their Books at the Earthquake in Liſbon, in the Year 1749, were ſwallow'd up, and immediately conſign'd to the Care of the D—l; ſo the ROBINHOOD would ſhortly meet the like Fate, or be torn from its Foundations, whirled through the Air by the Prince of it, be carried, like OUR LADY OF Loretto, Thouſands of Leagues, and at Length, with its whole Cargo, thrown down to H—ll.

THE Society, however, in Spight of theſe Denunciations, maintain'd its Ground, [125] and increaſed in Fame. The Names of the Members had been written in their Book of Queſtions, and new ones were continually added. The Regulations they were under, were likewiſe copied out fair; and theſe, with the Liſt of the Queſtions that ſucceeded them, were open to every one's Peruſal.

THE Preſident diſcharg'd his Truſt with Fidelity and Honour, and the Society in general thought themſelves much oblig'd to him for the Care he had taken of their Intereſt, and the good Order and Regularity he preſerv'd.

TO make this Hiſtory compleat, and to perform my Promiſe made in the Title-Page, of giving Memoirs of the moſt remarkable Members, I ſhall, in this third Part, as is moſt fit, begin with the Preſident, [124] [...] [125] [...] [126]

Mr. CALEB JEACOCKE, Or, As he is more frequently called, The BAKER.

MY Intention in giving a few Memoirs of this Gentleman, is not to ſurpriſe the Reader, by a Relation of uncommon or intereſting Events, but merely to reſcue a Character, greatly traduced, and viely miſrepreſented, by all the Authors, as far as I have ſeen, who have employ'd their Pens on this Subject.

IN the Lives of the Generality of Men, there is nothing remarkable enough to ſatisfy the Curioſity of Readers, unleſs the Imagination of the Author is exerted, to feign Events that never happen'd, and employ his Hero in Scenes he was never engaged in. This is the Caſe with Mr. JEACOCKE. His Life has not been chequer'd with thoſe variegated Hues that make ſo pleaſing an Appearance in the Biographer's Page, nor did he ever run [127] through ſuch a Variety of Adventures, as in the Recital excite alternately the different Paſſions of the Mind.

HE was born in London, and having receiv'd ſuch an Education as enabled him only to read, write, and caſt Accompts, he was put Apprentice to a Baker. He behaved extremely well in his Apprenticeſhip, and was pointed out as an Example for others in the ſame Station of Life. As ſoon as his Apprenticeſhip was expir'd, by the generous Legacy of a good old Aunt, he was enabled to ſet up for himſelf, and pitch'd upon St. Giles's for that Purpoſe. He was remarkably diligent in his Buſineſs, punctual in his Engagements, and, in every Reſpect, approv'd himſelf a truly honeſt Man; ſo that he was valued and eſteemed by every one to whom he was known.

HAVING a perfect Knowledge of Accompts, and being bleſſed with ſuch a clear Judgment, as could almoſt intuitively diſtinguiſh and ſeparate Truth from Falſehood, he was requeſted by many Merchants and Tradeſmen, whoſe Accompts were long, embarraſſed, and intricate, to adjuſt and ſettle them: And this he perform'd [128] with an Expedition and Correctneſs, that few could equal, and none excel; even after ſome of the moſt eminent Accomptants in London had deſpaired ſettling them, and pronounced them impoſſible to be made out clear and evident.

PROVIDENCE ſmiled on his Undertakings, and he got Money apace. His being appointed Preſident of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, made him univerſally known, and THE BAKER has been talk'd of, I believe, in every City and Town in England. JEACOCKE was not averſe to Popularity, nor in Love with it for its intrinſic Worth, but for the Benefit that accompanied it, in making him known to ſome of the greateſt Men in the Kingdom, and ſome of the moſt reſpectable and wealthy Merchants, whoſe Accompts he ſettled, and for which he was paid very large Sums.

IN this Situation he continued, increaſing his Wealth and Fame, 'till the latter End of the Year 1761, when he thought proper to reſign his Office of Preſident of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, having continued in that honourable Station nineteen Years: And in a few Months afterwards, [129] he was appointed one of his Majeſty's Juſtices of the Peace for the County of Middleſex, in which Capacity he now acts with an Integrity and Honour, with a Clearneſs of Judgment, and a Fervour of Humanity, excell'd by none. He is conſider'd by the Rational and Judicious, as a tacit Satire on the Practice of ſome trading Juſtices, who ſell their Judgment and Mercy, as a Grocer ſells his Raiſins and Sugar, at ſo much per Pound.

THOUGH JEACOCKE has never receiv'd, what we term, a liberal Education, yet his Mind is ſtored with a greater Stock of real Knowledge, than nineteen Parts out of twenty of thoſe who have breathed a College Air for many Years. But though his Judgment is clear, and his Knowledge extenſive, yet his unbounded Humanity, his amiable Chearfulneſs, his diſcreet Complaiſance, his incorruptible Integrity, are ſtill ſuperior. His Philanthropy is ſo great, that Miſery and Diſtreſs never applied to him in vain. His Advice and Purſe were ever open to the Indigent; but his Knowledge of the World teaching him to diſtinguiſh between real and pretended Diſtreſs, between honeſt Poverty and artful Villainy, whenever he found [130] Examples of the latter, he was as rigorous in inflicting Puniſhments, as in the former he was ready to afford Relief. In his Deportment he is grave, but not auſtere; ſerious, but not melancholy; chearful, but not merry; reſerved, but not hypocritical. He poſſeſſes Judgment without Oſtentation; Humility without Meanneſs; and Worth without Pride. Ever open to Conviction, in his Office of Preſident, he never obtruded his Opinions on his Auditors for certain Truths, but retracted them, and own'd his Miſtakes, if pointed out. Slave to no Sect, but a Friend and Member of the Church of England, he vindicated her from the rude Aſſaults of Deiſts and Unbelievers, not by poſitive Dogmas, and mere Ipſe Dixits, but by candid Reaſoning, and fair Argument. When unacquainted with the Subject of Debate, he ſought not by retailing the Sentiments of others, to paſs as an intelligent Man, or to take up their Time by delivering a String of Words without Meaning, but left the Queſtion to be debated by thoſe whoſe Inclination or Situation in Life put it in their Power to ſpeak to it properly. By theſe Means, and having a retentive Memory, and a fine natural Genius, and being remarkably [131] attentive to whatever was ſaid on every Subject, there are few he has not now a general Knowledge of, and a great many he is particularly converſant in. His Reaſoning is cloſe, but not void of Perſpicuity; and his Elocution free and natural, but not rapid and verboſe. He ever ſtrives rather to convince the Mind, than to excite the Paſſions, and to deliver wholſome Truths and uſeful Precepts, than to charm the Imagination with Paradoxes, and lead the Soul to Fairy Ground, by the Pomp of Words, and the Richneſs of Imagery; ſo that his Eloquence rather reſembles a ſmooth and gentle Current that glides ſoftly along, than the foaming and majeſtic Tyber, or the rapid Tagus, that rolls its golden Waves in Diſdain of Limits, overbearing and ſweeping every Thing before it.

JEACOCKE being ſuch a Perſon as I have deſcribed, it is no Wonder that he ſhould be revered by the Society. He He had a prodigious Influence over them, and kept them in more Awe, than a Pedagogue doth his Scholars, or even than the Speaker of a great Aſſembly can frequently keep the Members, as Mr. A—R [132] O—S—W himſelf once owned to Mr. JEACOCKE.

ANOTHER Member of the Society at its firſt Opening at the ROBINHOOD, was the NOTORIOUS

Mr. Orator HENLEY.

SOME Account of this Phenomenon may not be unacceptable to the Public. But as a better than I can give of him, has been already given in one of the Notes to Mr. POPE'S Dunciad, I ſhall extract that Paragraph, and then hazard a few Remarks of my own on this ſingular Genius.

J. HENLEY the Orator; he preach'd on the Sundays upon Theological Matters, and on the Wedneſdays upon all other Sciences. Each Auditor paid One Shilling. He declaimed ſome Years againſt the greateſt Perſons, and occaſionally did our Author that Honour. WELSTED, in Oratory Tranſactions, No. I. publiſh'd by HENLEY himſelf, gives the following Account of him: [133] He was born at Melton Mowbray in Leiceſterſhire. From his own Pariſh School he went to St. John's College in Cambridge. He began there to be uneaſy; for it ſhock'd him to find he was commanded to believe againſt his own Judgment in Points of Religion, Philoſophy, &c. for his Genius leading him freely to diſpute all Propoſitions, and call all Points to Account, he was impatient under thoſe Fetters of the free-born Mind. Being admitted to Prieſt's Orders, he found the Examination very ſhort and ſuperficial; and that it was not neceſſary to conform to the Chriſtian Religion, in order either to Deaconſhip or Prieſthood. He came to Town, and after having for ſome Years been a Writer for Bookſellers, he had an Ambition to be ſo for Miniſters of State. The only Reaſon he did not riſe in the Church, we are told, was the Envy of others, and a Diſreliſh entertain'd of him, becauſe he was not qualified to be a complete Spaniel. However, he offer'd the ſervice of his Pen to two great Men, of Opinions and Intereſts directly oppoſite; by both of whom being rejected, he ſet up a new Project, and ſtiled himſelf the [134] Reſtorer of antient Eloquence. He thought it as lawful to take a Licence from the King and Parliament at one Place, as another; at Hick's Hall, as at Doctors Commons; to ſet up his Oratory in Newport Market, Butcher Row. There (ſays his Friend) he had the Aſſurance to form a Plan, which no Mortal ever thought of; he had Succeſs againſt all Oppoſition; challeng'd his Adverſaries to fair Diſputations, and none would diſpute with him: Writ, read, and ſtudied twelve Hours a Day; compoſed three Diſſertations a Week on all Subjects; undertook to teach in one Year, what Schools and Univerſities teach in five; was not terrified by Menaces, Inſults, or Satires, but ſtill proceeded, matured his bold Scheme, and put the Church, and all that in Danger. WESLTED, Narrative in Orat. Tranſact. No. I.
AFTER having ſtood ſome Proſecutions, he turn'd his Rhetoric to Buffoonry upon all public and private occurrences. All this paſs'd in the ſame Room; where ſometimes he broke Jeſts, and ſometimes that Bread which [135] he call'd the Primitive Euchariſt.—This wonderful Perſon ſtruck Medals, which he diſpers'd as Tickets to his Subſcribers: The Device, a Star riſing to the Meridian, with this Motto, AD SUMMA; and below, INVENIAM VIAM AUT FACIAM. This Man had a Hundred Pounds a Year given him for the ſecret Service of a Weekly Paper of unintelligible Nonſenſe, call'd the Hyp-Doctor. POPE'S Works, Vol. V.

THE Doctor was indeed a Compoſition of Inconſiſtency and Singularity. He wanted not Senſe or Learning, but perverted both to the moſt unworthy Purpoſes. He underſtood the Principles of Religion very well; but his chief Delight was in making it appear ridiculous, by the ludicrous Light in which he view'd it himſelf, and repreſented it to others. As to any fix'd Principles, with Reſpect to political Notions, he had none, but employ'd all his Talents to laugh at, and make all Government appear a mere Joke. But though the Doctor underſtood Religion tolerably well, and could, when he thought proper, compare the different Sects, and exhibit their various Excellencies in a ſtriking and pictureſque [136] Manner, yet he was more diſpoſed to cull out their ſeveral Defects and Imperfections, ſo as to make all of them appear mere human Inventions, and the Creatures which intereſted Prieſts and artful Knaves had dreſſed up, to impoſe on, and frighten the Vulgar. His chief Talent lay in Buffoonery, and making the moſt amiable Things appear mere Monſters, and hideous Caricatures. Thus Religion was vilified, her Miniſters traduced, Morality laugh'd at, Merit treated as a mere Non-Entity, and the greateſt Characters in the Kingdom taken to Pieces and anatomiſed with all the Licentiouſneſs imaginable, every Sunday, when the Ollio of Scandal and Nonſenſe was ſerv'd up to the Public. He was of an over-bearing Temper, inſolent to his Inferiors, and unmannerly to his Superiors. His Pride, which was exceſſive, taught him to deſpiſe every one with whom he converſed; and his Self-Love, which was inordinate, and reign'd over him with a deſpotic Sway, led him to ſuppoſe, that every one was inferior to himſelf in Point of Judgment. Hence that ridiculous Vanity which was viſible in his every Action, and prompted him to enforce his own Arguments with the moſt indecent Noiſe and violent Geſticulations, [137] to diſregard the Sentiments of others, and to be continually interrupting them in the Courſe of their Reaſoning. As a Companion, therefore, he was odious; as a Clergyman, indecent; as an Orator reprehenſible; as a Chriſtian, culpable; and as Man, contemptible.

THE Doctor being ſuch a Perſon as I have deſcrib'd him, it may be wonder'd that his Oratory ſhould be ſo prodigiouſly frequented: But, I apprehend, it is no Wonder at all. Novelties will always attract; Scandal has Charms for many Appetites; and an unreſtrain'd Licentiouſneſs of railing againſt Religion and Government, will always draw vaſt Numbers of Infidels and Libertines to hear their Patron and Advocate ſounding the Trumpet of Sedition. Not but that others of a different Caſt attended the Oratory: Some came to laugh with the Orator, and ſome to laugh at him: Some, to unbend their Minds, and forget the rigid Rules of Morality they had juſt before heard in our Places of public Worſhip; and ſome to confirm themſelves in Infidelity and Impiety, and enable themſelves to become Diſputants.

[138] THE Orator, with various Succeſs, ſtill kept up his ORATORY KING GEORGE'S, or CHARLES'S CHAPEL, as he differently term'd it, 'till the Year 1759, when he died. At its firſt Eſtabliſhment it was amazingly crowded, and Money flowed in upon him apace; and between whiles, it languiſhed and drooped: But for ſome Years before its Author's Death, it dwindled away ſo much, and fell into ſuch an hectic State, that the few Friends of it fear'd its Deceaſe was very near. The Doctor, indeed, kept it up to the laſt, determin'd it ſhould live as long as he did, and actually exhibited many Evenings to empty Benches. Finding no one at length would attend, he admitted the Acquaintances of his Door-Keeper, Runner, Mouth-Piece, and ſome others of his Followers, gratis. On the 13th of October, however, the Doctor died, and the Oratory ceaſed; no one having Iniquity or Impudence ſufficient to continue it on; ſince which it is turn'd into a Tradeſman's Warehouſe.

I SHALL now give a brief Account of the moſt conſiderable of the Oratorical Members from its firſt Eſtabliſhment at the ROBINHOOD, to the preſent Time.

[139]

Mr. B*RR***T*N.

FORMERLY a Governor of one of our Plantations. He was a Man of tolerable good Parts, had been engaged in various Scenes of Life, was a cloſe Reaſoner, but very deficient in oratorical Abilities; his Delivery being ſlow, and accompanied with a Thickneſs of Voice, and an ungraceful Demeanor, which greatly prejudiced the Audience againſt him. He was a rank Deiſt, and, on all Occaſions, ridiculed the Chriſtian Syſtem, with an Aſperity and Acrimony that denoted his extreme Averſion to it; but, it is ſaid, that on his Death-bed he owned the beauty and Sanctity of that Religion, which alone can enſure an happy Immortality to thoſe who ſquare their Lives agreeable to its holy Precepts, and, in pathetic Terms, bewailed his own Infelicity, in being deprived of that Comfort and that Light which can enable the Righteous to triumph over the Grave, and make Death loſe its Sting.

[140]

Mr. B*DD**PH.

A VERY Proteus in Principle and Conduct. This Day of one Opinion; the next of a different. He changed his Sentiments much oftner than he did his Cloaths; an extravagant Life, and an Itch for Diſputing, having reduced him from an honourable Situation in Life, to a very mean one, with one Suit of Cloaths only to his Back. He is deſcended from noble Anceſtors; has a Barone, for his elder Brother, but is now in the Service of the Eaſt-India Company, in the Character of a private Soldier. He is endued with excellent Faculties, diſtinguiſhes Things with a Clearneſs and Preciſion few can excel him; has a ready Wit, ſound Judgment, and an eaſy Delivery; but he has a ſqueaking diſagreeable Tone, and, on Account of his changing Sides ſo often, whatever he ſays has little or no Effect on his Auditors. He has diſtinguiſhed himſelf in the Republic of Letters by many ingenious Productions; but what made him more particularly remarkable as an Author, was, the uncommon Pains he took in the Affair of CANNING and SQUIRES, [141] ſearching and diving into that myſterious Tranſaction, and giving the Reſult of his Enquiries, and his own Conjectures, in ſeveral Pamphlets and Eſſays he wrote on the Subject. He was promiſed to be amply rewarded for his Trouble, by the Magiſtrate who employ'd him in the Affair, but who, it is ſaid, never gave him one Penny on that Account.

Mr. G*NT**M*N.

A VERY ingenious Gentleman, the Son of a Colonel of the Iriſh Eſtabliſhment, Author of SEJANUS, a Tragedy, and many other well-wrote Pieces. He is now a Lieutenant on Half-pay, and lives at Worceſter. As an Orator he was excellent; having an Energy of Expreſſion, a Facility of Utterance, and a Reach of Thought few can equal. Fortune, who, in the Diſtribution of her Favours, proves herſelf a blind and ignorant Judge of Merit, has been peculiarly ſevere to this Gentleman. He was promiſed, by a late deceaſed worthy Lord, to be provided for; but nothing has been done for him, and he now lives upon a ſcanty Pittance; a deplorable Inſtance that Men of the [142] greateſt Merit, Learing, and Genius, may ſit ſighing in Rags and Poverty, while pliant Knaves, Fools, and Coxcombs, baſk in the Sunſhine of a Court, and almoſt bend beneath the Load of Fortune's Favours. He has not unfrequently wrote in Conjunction with

Mr. D*RR**K.

A MAN no more fit to ſtand in Competition with G*NT**M*N, than a Pigmy with Hercules. This Gentleman, however, as an Author, and a facetious Companion, is not without ſome Merit. His Merit, however, is tinctured with no ſmall Degree of Self-Conceit, and his Converſation with unpardonable Egotiſms. He was born in Dublin, and, by his Aunt, put Apprentice to a Linnen-draper; but, inſtead of minding his Buſineſs, he was ever reading Plays, and compoſing Madrigals. In Conſequence of this Propenſity, he ran away from his Maſter, came to London, and commenced Author; in which honourable Vocation he continued, with various Succeſs, till about two Years ago, when he was choſen Maſter of the Ceremonies at Bath; but was lately diſcharged [143] from that Office, and Monſieur CAULETT choſen in his Room.

Mr. FOOTE.

THIS very ingenious Gentleman is ſo well known to the Public, that any Account of him would be needleſs. The ſame Thing may alſo be obſerved of

Mr. MACKLIN,

WHO is now exhibiting his Abilities, both as an Author and an Actor, at the Theatre in Smock-Alley, Dublin.

Mr. GR***S.

A PAINTER by Trade, and a Deiſt in Principle. He was a ſtrenuous Advocate for the Society; but the very Houſehold Abilities he poſſ ſſed, put it out of his Power to be eminently ſ rviceable to it. His Character is drawn with no unſkilful Hand by the Author of THE ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, a Satire. To which I refer, and ſhall therefore ſay no more of him here.

[144]

JOHN H**KE, Eſq

A GENTLEMAN of Genius and Judgment, a firm Friend, and an agreeable Companion. He poſſeſſes a Solidity of Thought, and a Vivacity of Imagination, that ſeldom unite in the ſame Perſon. He is deſcended from a reſpectable Family, had high Expectations from a wealthy Uncle, but was greatly diſappointed, and barbarouſly treated, by his leaving his Fortune from his Nephew, to People he was not allied to. Mr. H**KE, however, by the Exertion of his Talents, has gained a very pretty Fortune, and was lately choſen Member for M****n in Eſſex. In this Capacity there is no Doubt but he will behave properly; for he has all the Faculties and Accompliſhments requiſite to form the complete Senator; and, in the Editor's Opinion, poſſeſſes an Integrity of Soul, not any ways inferior to the Judgment of his Head. He is likewiſe a Member of the Society for the ENCOURAGEMENT of ARTS; but has not for ſome Years belonged to the ROBINHOOD.

[145]

Mr. M*R*Y.

A TAYLOR by Trade, formerly a Quaker, now a Deiſt; and a very merry Fellow he is. He has no great Abilities, nor very contemptible ones. If an Attempt to entertain is meritorious, this merry Fellow poſſeſſes a great Share of Merit; for all his Speeches are calculated for that End.

Mr. WILLIAM C**TY.

FORMERLY a Cabinet-maker in the Strand. There was nothing very remarkable in this Perſon, but that his Conceptions of Things were ſo dull, and the Succeſſion of his Ideas ſo rapid, that his Tongue could not give Utterance to them. He was ſo ſenſible of his Deficiency in this Reſpect, that in the Courſe of his Speechifying, he was ready to quarrel with himſelf, for not being able to give a Vent to the Thoughts with which he was almoſt ready to burſt. Whether he was more happy in expreſſing his Sentiments in Writing, than in extemporaneous Diſcourſes, [146] I know not, never having ſeen any of his Compoſitions, though I am told he wrote a good deal.

GEORGE B**DG*S.

A Noted Bug-Doctor near Hatton-Garden, Author of ſeveral unintelligible Pamphlets, full of pious Rants, enthuſiaſtic Jargon, and unmeaning Stuff. He is a Quaker, and has often held forth as a Preacher, in which Character he muſt certainly appear to Advantage, as he has a Facility of Utterance, and can harangue for half an Hour together in ſuch a Style and Manner it ſhall be impoſſible for any Mortal to fathom his Meaning. Fine Accompliſhments theſe for a Quaking Preacher!

Mr. S**ND**S*N.

A SURGEON of ſome Eminence in Great Queen Street, near Lincoln's Inn Fields. He is of the eſtabliſh'd Church with Reſpect to his Religion, and a ſtrenuous Advocate for it. As a Scholar, he is by no Means contemptible; as a [147] Surgeon, ſkilful; as an Orator, middling; and as an Author, indifferent. He is a Man of great Integrity, and is reſpected by all who have the Pleaſure of his Acquaintance. He is of an open, chearful Temper, and extremely good-natur'd. He belongs to a Society, not unlike that of the ROBINHOOD, held at the Devil Tavern, near Temple-Bar. He is a great Admirer of the Moderns, and thinks they excel the Antients, in the Goodneſs both of their Lives and Writings. How far this Opinion of his is juſt, it is not our Buſineſs to enquire into here, though ſuch an Enquiry would be both pleaſant and profitable.

Mr. R*B**S*N.

A GENIUS truly ſurprizing: A perfect Phenomenon. He is characteriſed in the Satire on the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, under the Name of BIBO; and, indeed, that Name ſuits him very well. It is a common Saying, that ‘Poets are born, but Orators are taught.’

[148] THE Meaning of this muſt be, that without a natural Genius, no Man can excel in Verſe; but without any Genius, a Man may be capable of ſhining as a Speaker: This, however, is by no Means applicable to BIBO, for he was neither born, nor made an Orator; and it is really aſtoniſhing, that without having any Thing to ſay, he yet ſpeaks his five Minutes at the ROBINHOOD without Intermiſſion, after which he ſits down, and with a ghaſtly Grin ſmiling his own Applauſe, proceeds to his darling Buſineſs of quaffing Porter.

Mr. B**C**Y.

THIS Gentleman is Maſter of an Academy at Tottenham High Croſs, and has lately taken Holy Orders. He is a Native of North Britain, and is a Man of Learning and Integrity. Were it not for a ſtrong Scotch Accent, he would be a very good Orator, ſince his Sentiments are always orthodox and juſt, his Diction pure and elegant, his Elocution free and graceful, and his Action ſpirited and eaſy. I know of no Perſon to whom I would [149] entruſt the Education of a Son, ſooner than to him; for while he takes Care to improve their Heads, he neglects not to mend their Hearts. He was one of the Candidates for the Lectureſhip of Whitechaple Church not long ſince; and if Piety and Virtue, Learning and Good-Senſe, had been preferr'd, perhaps Mr. B**C**Y had been choſen Lecturer: But it is no uncommon Thing to ſee Merit diſregarded, and Ignorance exalted.—Intereſt now-a-days, is the Empreſs of the World.

Mr. C**WF**D.

THIS Gentleman is alſo of the ſame Country, and of the ſame Profeſſion as the laſt mention'd, but not poſſeſſed of equal Abilities. He is, however, a Man of good common Senſe, but has no great Depth of Learning. What his Merit may be as a School-maſter, I pretend not to ſay; but as an Orator, he is by no Means contemptible. He is rather too diffuſe in his Reaſoning, and his Expreſſions are frequently vague and undeterminate; but there is a Vein of Piety, and a Zeal for the Intereſts of Religion, diſcoverable in all his Diſcourſes.—In [150] ſhort, he is a Man of ſome Abilities, but they are not ſo great as he imagines them to be.

Mr. WILLIAM W**Y.

THIS Gentleman is a facetious Companion, and poſſeſſes a conſiderable Share of Learning and good Senſe. He was bred to the Profeſſion of the Law, but that dry Study not agreeing with his gay and volatile Diſpoſition, he frequently indulg'd himſelf in a Correſpondence with the Muſes, and improv'd it to ſuch Advantage, as ſhortly to get them with Child, as COLLEY CIBBER humorouſly expreſſes it. What ſort of Offspring he has, appears by his SHRUBS OF PARNASSUS, his BLOSSOMS OF HELICON, and the POETICAL CALENDAR in twelve Volumes, in which laſt Work he was aſſiſted by Mr. FAWKES. He is now Steward to a noble Lord, and behaves in that Character with incorruptible Integrity, and great Judgment. As an Orator, we pretend not to give our Opinion of him, as he never ſpoke at the Society above twice or thrice.

[151]

Mr. RICHARD L***S,

AUTHOR of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY a Satire, The Adventures of PATRICK O'DONNELL, the Adventures of CHARLES CARELESS, and a Multitude of other Works. This Gentleman, as well as his Friend Mr. W**Y, was bred to the Law, but, like him, inſtead of ſtudying COKE UPON LYTTLETON, or VINER'S Abridgment, was ever reading SHAKESPEAR and POPE, and compoſing Madrigals. As an Author, we decline giving our Opinion: His Works muſt ſpeak for him. As an Orator, he muſt be ranked in the third Claſs, having a weak Voice, a harſh and untuneable Accent, and an ungraceful Action. He has not ſpoke in the Society for many Years; and, indeed, if he had never ſpoken there at all, it would have been no Matter; for as during the Time he belong'd to the Society, he was no Ornament to it, ſo now he has withdrawn himſelf from it, he is not miſs'd.

[152]

Mr. PETER A*N*T.

THIS Gentleman has made himſelf very notorious. He has been pilloried, fined, and impriſoned, ſeveral Times, for his ardent Zeal in inculcating the true Religion, and his laudable Endeavours to prove MOSES a Bl—h—d, and the Chriſtian Religion a mere Ch—t, intended to affront the common Senſe of Mankind. Strange! that ſo zealous a Reformer ſhould be puniſh'd, inſtead of being rewarded! and that Mankind are ſtill blinded by Prejudice, which this Gentleman would remove, and ſtill hamper'd by the Shackles of Religion, which he would knock off! He was formerly a School-maſter, after that Clerk to a Merchant; then, he had ſome Employment in a public Office, and for theſe twelve Months laſt paſt, he has enjoy'd a Place in Bridewell. What he intends to do now, I know not. He was for ſome Years a main Pillar of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, and uſed to read his Productions to the Members, inſtead of ſpeaking extempore. As an Orator, he is to the laſt Degree contemptible, having a tame and [153] lifeleſs Pronunciation, and a mean and inſipid Action. His Abilities are, however, far from indifferent, but it is a Pity that Age and Experience ſhould not have taught him Diſcretion enough—to refrain from inſulting the Religion of his Country.

Mr. WILLIAM R*D*R.

THIS Gentleman enter'd into Holy Orders about five Years ago, ſince which he has not frequented the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY. Before that, he uſed to be a conſtant Member, and ſpoke to every Queſtion that was debated, with an Extent of Knowledge, and a Clearneſs of Preciſion, that evinced, there were few Subjects he was unacquainted with. But if his Judgment is very great, his Integrity is ſtill greater. He is a faithful Huſband, an affectionate Father, a good Chriſtian, a firm Friend, a chearful Companion. His Expoſition of the BIBLE, is a ſtanding Proof of his Piety and Learning; his DICTIONARY, a noble Monument of critical Accuracy; and his HISTORY of England, an undeniable Evidence of his Candor and Judgment. As a Preacher, he is deſervedly admir'd. His Compoſitions, [154] abſtracted from the Charms of his Delivery, will bear the ſtricteſt Scrutiny; but when heighten'd and enforc'd by the Beauty of Pronunciation, and Energy of Action, it is no Wonder they ſhould extort the Admiration, and ſecure the Eſteem of the enraptured Congregation. As a Scholar, he is greatly celebrated, being thoroughly converſant with both the learned and modern Languages, and which all his Works in general, but his BIBLE and DICTIONARY in particular, irrefragably prove. The laſt contains a Fund of Knowledge beyond any other I know of; and I dare pronounce it to be the beſt and moſt uſeful of any we have in this Dictionary-making Age.

Mr. R*BL*S.

A JEW, a Deiſt, a Stock-broker, and an Author, united in one Perſon. What an Hachis! What a ſtrange Mixture!—He wrote a Pamphlet ſome Time ſince, intituled, SUPERSTITION WORSE THAN ATHEISM, which he had the Diſcretion to vend privately, for Fear of the Cenſure of the Civil Magiſtrate. His Notions of Religion exactly correſpond [155] with thoſe of Mr. PETER A*N*T, and his Oratory is not unlike his; he has a thick, mumbling, liſping Voice, a Heſitation of Speech, confuſed Ideas, and an ungraceful Delivery. It is not a little to the Honour of the Chriſtian Religion, that it has for its Enemies ſuch contemptible Beings.

Mr. S*****S.

A VERY ingenious Gentleman, a good Writer, and a fine Speaker. He was ſome Time Amanuenſis to Mr. JOHNSON, and wrote many fugitive Pieces on temporary Subjects, that are now forgotten, as well as ſome that are now juſtly eſteem'd.

Mr. RICHARD AC***D.

HE kept a Lottery-Office not many Years ago, after which he was Deputy Commiſſary at Belleiſle. He is now a Gentleman at large, and keeps Company with Bucks and Choice Spirits. He is of a dry, ſaturnine, ſarcaſtic Diſpoſition, but wants not Senſe, though poſſeſſed of [156] little ſcholaſtic Knowledge, or oratorical Abilities. He takes great Delight in making perſonal Infirmities Objects of Ridicule, and of viewing the moſt ſerious Subjects with an Eye of Levity. However eſteem'd theſe Qualifications and Diſpoſition may be by his Companions, they are not regarded by Diſputants; and therefore, we apprehend, Mr. AC***D is much better formed to ſhine in a modern nocturnal Meeting of Bloods, than in a Society of Philoſophers.

Mr. THOMAS M**T*M*R.

THIS Gentleman was formerly a Linnen-Draper, but meeting with Miſfortunes, to which every Man in Trade is liable, was oblig'd to compound with his Creditors; after which he turned Stockbroker, being induced thereto, as himſelf tells us, by the Repreſentations and Perſuaſions of a Set of Men, who endeavour'd to make him believe that he might acquire a large Fortune in a ſhort Space of Time. He found himſelf, however, miſerably miſtaken, being egregiouſly duped by thoſe Vultures, who preyed upon his Subſtance, 'till he had loſt his All. He [157] then ſet up a Lottery-Office in Conjunction with the laſt-mention'd Gentleman, but met with no great Succeſs. However, he hath ſince that Time repaired his Fortune, and is now his Majeſty's Vice-Conſul for the Auſtrian Netherlands. He is a Perſon of excellent Senſe, and great good Nature. As an Orator, indeed, he never ſhone much, a Heavineſs of Aſpect, and a Thickneſs of Utterance, ſtill accompanying him. What he ſaid was always worth hearing, but how he ſaid it, was not worthy Imitation. His Piece, intituled, Every Man his own Broker, diſcovers him to be well verſed in that myſterious Buſineſs, and to underſtand the Genius of our Language very well. He is now compiling a Hiſtory of England.

Mr. THOMAS FL**D.

THIS Gentleman is a fine Scholar, an able Orator, a judicious Writer, and a good Chriſtian. Not long ſince he took on him the ſacred Function, and behaves with that amiable Dignity, and chearful Gravity, as reflects an Honour on the Cloth, and ſhews how worthy he is to wear it. Were the Number of ſuch [158] Clergymen greater, it would not be ſo common as it now is, to hear Chriſtianity ridiculed, and its Miniſters treated with Contempt. He has not for ſome Years frequented the Society; but formerly was very often there, and was an Ornament to it. The Speech which the Author of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, a Satire, has put in the Mouth of this Gentleman, whom he calls OTHO, on the Excellency of the Chriſtian Religion, is ſo good, that I cannot refrain tranſcribing it.

HAIL, noble Preſes! Guide of Reas'ners, hail!
With thee my Speech begins, with thee ſhall end:
For Reaſon gave that Sceptre to thy Hand,
And eke her ſacred Laws, that thou might'ſt ſtill
The Voice of Infidelity, and check her Friends.
'Tis thine to ſpeak the Dictates of thy Soul:
'Tis thine to lend an Ear when Juſtice bids
Another ſpeak, and to enforce his Thoughts.
Thy Smile is Truth, and Error is thy Frown:
Yet will I ſpeak what right my Soul eſteems.
Fix'd is the Thought, and rivited by Time;
By Time, which gives to Truth increaſing Charms,
And ſteals from Error all her borrow'd Plumes.
RELIGION, hail! thou Guardian of our Lives;
Foundreſs of States; of Law, Protectreſs fair;
Virtue's ſtrong Rock, and Reaſon's nobleſt Guide!
[159] Without thy Aid each ſocial Tie is loſt:
Without thy Aid the Laws would threat in vain:
Without thy Aid this World were drown'd in Blood.
Freed from the Fear of Hell, or Hope of Heav'n,
Life were a Load, and Being were a Curſe.
When Miſery, with Hope-deſtroying Stake,
Impales the Wretch, and Horror wings the Soul,
Thy Balm affords Relief, allays the Pain,
And bids the harmleſs Weapon quit the Wound.
When Fortune and when Plenty load the Board,
Thou on the Altar of the human Heart
Doſt light a Flame, that, tow'ring to the Clouds,
Exhales an Incenſe grateful to the Skies.
If Foes increaſe, thou bidd'ſt their Rancour end:
If Dangers preſs, Faith lends her ample Shield,
Defies their Threats, and frowns them into Bliſs.
E'en Death, that plucks the Planets from the Skies,
Owns thy ſuperior Might, foregoes his Sting,
And the proud Grave, victorious o'er our Clay,
At thy Command his laurell'd Chaplet quits,
Returns the Shrowd, and, growling, leaves his Prey.
SAY, mighty Reas'ners, Infidels baptiz'd,
Who dreſs in Folly's Garb, yet idly dream
That Wiſdom's Robe upon your Shoulders ſhines;
Say, when tempeſtuous Paſſions tear the Soul,
Cloud Reaſon's Beam, and put out Wiſdom's Light;
Can the thin Cobweb, ſpun by ſubtle Brains,
Out-live the Storm, and dare the Tempeſt's Rage?
[160] Yet, when to Reaſon's Aid Religion joins,
And in her Left Hand gives the redd'ning Bolt,
Or in her Right eternal Bliſs conſigns,
Nor Life nor Death can move the ſtable Soul;
Nor Life nor Death impart, or Hope or Fear;
Unmov'd, we paſs as Iſrael's Patriarch erſt,
And make this World a Ladder to the Skies.
WORSHIP, whatever purblind Deiſts deem,
Worſhip's the nobleſt Converſe of the Soul;
It opens Heav'n's irradiating Doors,
Admits us to the Audience of the GOD,
Makes him our Friend, and makes us truly great.
Is it an Honour for the ruſtic Swain
To ſit in Council with the ſceptred Chief?
How great the Honour then to talk with him,
Who is the King of Kings, and Lord of Lords!
RELIGION ſhortens Sorrow's thorny Road,
Plucks from the Heart the Arrow of Deſpair;
Matures the Seeds of Virtue in the Soul;
Gives Reaſon Wings, and bids her ſcale the Skies.
MORE would I ſpeak, but who, alas! can ſound
This vaſt Abyſs, or half its Stores exhauſt?
Yet, in Obedience to thy ſceptred Nod,
I ſtop the flowing Current of my Speech,
And glory in the Thoughts I have not ſpoke.

[161]

Mr. JOSEPH C*L***R.

THIS Gentleman is poſſeſſed of great good Senſe, and many amiable Qualities. Fortune has not been very kind to him, but has reduced him to the mortifying Neceſſity of writing for Bookſellers. Were there any other MECAENAS'S to be met with, it is probable that ſo much Merit would not go unnoticed and unrewarded. He is not very eminent as an Orator, an invincible Timidity ſtill hanging on him, and preventing a Diſplay of thoſe Abilities, and that good Senſe he is Maſter of. One would naturally imagine, that Knowledge ſhould inſpire a becoming Aſſurance; and a Conſciouſneſs of our being thorough Maſters of a particular Subject, ſhould make us ſpeak to it, with an intrepid Spirit: But we often ſee the Reverſe, and that Ignorance bolts forth its Dictates with a free and unconſtrained Air, while Learning and Wiſdom are ſhackled by the Fetters which awkward Baſhfulneſs puts on them. Mr. C*L***R has not belonged to the Society for ſome Years; but after having attended it often enough to diſcern its Nature and Tendency, he thought he [162] could neither be inſtructed or entertained, by going to it any more.

Mr. S**TT.

THIS Gentleman is a Phyſician of no ſmall Eminence. He is a Man of great Erudition, a nervous Writer, and a fine Speaker; though, in the Pronunciation of many Words, he deviates from the eſtabliſhed Cuſtom ſo much, as has ſubjected him to the Cenſures of many Critics, particularly the ingenious Authors of the Connoiſſeur, and the Gray's-Inn Journal; the former by BONNEL THORNTON, Eſq and the latter by ARTHUR MURPHY, Eſq As a Specimen of his Oratory, and Turn of Thinking, we ſhall give a Speech he made ſome Years ſince, on the following Queſtion.

How are we to be certain of the Incorruptibility and Freedom of a Parliament? Sign'd, ARISTARCHUS.

THIS Queſtion is undoubtedly, Mr. Preſident, of no ſmall Importance; though whether it can be properly debated [163] in a Society like this, I much doubt. I don't inſinuate by this Obſervation, that ſuch Gentlemen of Genius and Judgment as honour us with their Company, are incapable of determining this Queſtion, and aſcertaining the Marks whereby we may judge and diſtinguiſh a free and incorrupt Parliament from a venal and corrupt one; but am afraid, very much afraid, that thoſe Marks are not ſo eaſy to be pointed out in any extempore Speech. To ſpeak to a Queſtion of this Nature properly, requires a previous Conſideration of the Subject, and a deliberate Thought of what we are to utter, leſt a haſty Judgment, or crude Conjectures, might miſlead inſtead of informing a candid Searcher after Truth. I ſhall, however, attempt to point out ſome Criterions to judge of a free and incorrupt Parliament, which, I apprehend, may be looked on as infallible; though I muſt neceſſarily omit others, perhaps not leſs important, which the Brevity of Time allowed me, will not permit my mentioning.

A FREE and incorrupt Parliament the People will ever repoſe the utmoſt Confidence [164] in, and though their Deciſions may be ſometimes erroneous, they will never be unjuſt. When this is the Caſe, it will appear evidently by the following Marks, viz.

WHEN the Members of Parliament act with a viſible Independency, and will not ſuffer any one Man to lead them by the Noſe, or brow-beat them into Compliance with his Schemes, and thereby deſtroy that Equality which is eſſentially requiſite to preſerve the Liberty of theſe Aſſemblies.

WHEN all the Acts and Reſolutions of Parliament are manifeſtly calculated for the public Good, and not to ſerve any dark and private Purpoſes.

WHEN the Conduct of Gentlemen in Employment makes it evident, that they are under no Reſtraint in the Houſe, but are left at full Liberty to give their Votes, upon all Occaſions, according to their Conſciences and Opinions.

THIS is, indeed, the ſtrongeſt Mark of a free Parliament, and we may certainly [165] conclude it to be the Caſe, when the Members, who are in Office, do not conſtantly run in Herds, and ſlaviſhly follow a Miniſter in all his Propoſals; but when it is obſerved, on the contrary, that they frequently divide againſt, what is called, the Court Party, and are not turned out of their Places, at the End of a Seſſion, without any viſible Reaſon, but giving a Vote, perhaps, againſt ſome favourite Queſtion, or to make Room for others, whoſe only Merit is a ſordid, pliant, and proſtitute Compliſance.

IN ſhort, Gentlemen, a Parliament cannot be truly denominated free, which lies under any Reſtraint or Diſcouragements whatſoever; nor will their Reſolutions have any other Weight than what Force gives them; for I will venture to aſſert, that the moſt inconſiderable Minority, or even one honeſt Man, of the meaneſt Underſtanding, is a better Judge of political Affairs than the largeſt Majority, which is packed together, and bribed to ſerve the Purpoſes of a bad Miniſter.

[166] BY viewing our own Parliament, and having an Eye to the Marks and Tokens I have pointed out, we may be enabled to judge whether it is ſuch a one as mentioned in the Queſtion. I hope, I truſt it is, and that it is quite oppoſite to one I well remember, a few Years ago, when the grand Corrupter preſided at the Helm. Under his Adminiſtration Bribery and Corruption were reduced to a Suſetem, Election-Jobbing was carried on as openly as any other Trade, all Virtue and Morality were laughed out of Countenance, the intereſts of Religion were diſregarded, and its ſacred Foundations underminded, and ſapped by Vice and Venality. Nay, the great Engine of Corruption had ſo deſpicable an Opinion of hooman Nature, that he laid it down as an inconteſtible Truth, that no Man could, in the true Senſe of the Word, deſerve the Appellation of Patriot, for every Man had his Price. I ſhall cloſe theſe Remarks with a beautiful Paſſage from our great Poet, deſcribing the Situation of Things at this Juncture, remarking, by the Way, that every Thing was ſubſervient to the Cauſe of [167] Venality, and contracted, like the various Rays of the Sun, into one Focus, to feed this dark and infamous Paſſion.

VIRTUE may chooſe the high or low Degree,
'Tis juſt alike to Virtue and to me;
Dwell in a Monk, or light upon a King,
She's ſtill the ſame belov'd, contented Thing.
VICE is undone if ſhe forgets her Birth,
And ſtoops from Angels to the Dregs of Earth.
But 'tis the Fall degrades her to a Whore;
Let Greatneſs own her, and ſhe's mean no more.
Her Birth, her Beauty, Crowds and Courts confeſs;
Chaſte Matrons praiſe her, and grave Biſhops bleſs.
In golden Chains the willing World ſhe draws,
And hers the Goſpel is, and hers the Laws;
Mounts the Tribunal, lifts her ſcarlet Head,
And ſees pale VIRTUE carted in her ſtead.
Lo! at the Wheels of her triumphal Car,
Old England's Genius, rough with many a Scar,
Dragg'd in the Duſt! his Arms hang idly round:
His Flag inverted trails along the Ground!
Our Youth, all liv'ry'd o'er with foreign Gold,
Before her dance: behind her crawl the Old!
See thronging Millions to the Pagod run,
And offer Country, Parent, Wife, or Son!
Hear her black Trumpet thro' the Land proclaim,
That NOT TO BE CORRUPTED IS THE SHAME!
In Soldier, Churchman, Patriot, Man in Pow'r,
'Tis Avarice all, Ambition is no more.
See all her Nobles begging to be Slaves!
See all her Fools aſpiring to be Knaves!
[168] The Wit of Cheats, the Courage of a Whore,
Are what ten thouſand envy and adore:
All, all look up, with reverential Awe,
At Crimes that 'ſcape, or triumph o'er the Law:
While Truth, Worth, Wiſdom, daily they decry—
NOTHING IS SACRED NOW BUT VILLAINY.
Yet ſhall this Verſe, if ſuch a Verſe remain,
Shew there was one who held it in Diſdain.

Mr. W**TE.

A SCOTCH Schoolmaſter, that has the Brogue on him as ſtrong as an Highlander juſt arrived from the bleak Mountains of the North. He lives in C—l-Street in the Strand, and advertiſes to each a juſt and graceful Pronunciation; for which he is indiſputably well qualified—we mean, of his native Erſe, but not of the Engliſh, which he cannot himſelf pronounce ſo well as a Teague in the County of Fipperary. He is, however, a Man of good Senſe, and poſſeſſes no ſmall Share of Learning; but as an Orator, he may be compared with the Scotch one mentioned by Mr. FOOTE, in his laſt Farce; and, indeed, it is not improbable, but that in expoſing the Abſurdity of a Schoolmaſter, with a braod Scotch Accent, teaching an [169] elegant and graceful Pronunciation of Engliſh, the ingenious Satiriſt had Mr. W**TE in his Eye.—It has frequently been obſerved, with ſurpriſe, that, in general, Schoolmaſters are extremely ſubject to Vanity and Self conceit. But, I think, it is no great Wonder. They aſſume ſuch a ſupercilious and haughty Air in their Schools, where, without Doubt, it is, in a great Meaſure, neceſſary, and contract ſuch an Opiniatetry and Conceit of themſelves, and their own Importance, as are not eaſily to be ſhaken off when they leave their native Dominions. The Force of Habit is very ſrong, and, without great Difficulty, cannot be conquered: But ſurely a Schoolmaſter, when he leaves his School, ought to leave his ſtiff-ſtarched Airs, and imaginary Conſequence behind him, and come into Company with the Eaſe and Deportment of a Gentleman.—I mention theſe Things becauſe the Perſon, whoſe Character I am now attempting, is a profeſſed Votary to Self-Conceit; and imagines he is intitled to the ſame Reſpect and Homage without the Pale of his School, that he has an undoubted Right to exact within—But this, as I have before obſerved, is the Caſe with all of the Profeſſion.

[170]

Mr. H**H*M.

AUTHOR of Genuine and authentic Memoirs of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, and an Oration in Praiſe of the LAW, pronounced there a few Years ago, by one PITTARD, a ſtrolling Actor. He is a Perſon of ſome Senſe, but not half ſo much as he thinks he has. He has not attended the Society for ſome Years, nor, indeed, is the Loſs of him very great; for, as he is to be ranked in the middling Claſs as an Author; ſo, as an Orator, he is a very mean one, unfurniſhed with Ideas, and deſtitute of a graceful Delivery.

End of the THIRD PART.

THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.
PART IV.

[171]

WE have thus brought down our Hiſtory of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, from its firſt Eſtabliſhment, to the Time of the Death or Seceſſion of ſeveral of its chief Members: To render it therefore entirely complete, we ſhall now give Memoirs and Characters of its principal ſpeaking Members for the Year 1764.

[172] THE Reader muſt conſider, that we are now arrived at a very tender and delicate Part of this Hiſtory: Living Characters are to be exhibited, and muſt therefore be drawn with ſo much Caution, that while the Reader is enabled to diſtinguiſh to whom the Features belong, the Perſons themſelves may have no juſt Cauſe to complain of our Severity. If, however, in ſome of our Portraits, the Features are homely, and in others very deformed, let it not be imputed to us as our Fault: We create not Features, or Characters, but paint them as we find them.

WE ſhall begin with

Mr. P*TT.

THIS Perſon is conſider'd of ſo much Importance in the Society, that he has frequently acted as Preſident, in which Character he has appeared in a very ſingular Light. To draw a Compariſon between J**C**KE and him, might appear invidious, and is certainly unneceſſary; ſince every one that has ſeen each of them in the Chair but once, muſt have perceiv'd [173] the Difference. He is by Trade a Cabinet Maker, and lives in L—g A—e. He was born at Falmouth in Devonſhire; and tho' he has been ſettled in London ſome Years, he retains much of his Country Dialect. Whether he ſcorns the ignoble Path of Imitation, or whether having no Senſe of what is proper and improper in the Conduct of others, he is an Original without Deſign, we are not enough acquainted with his Principles of Action to determine: But his Manner of opening and conducting the Debates of the Night, is, in all Reſpects, different from that of every other Preſident of every Diſputing-Club that we have either heard of, read of, or ſeen.

HIS firſt Movement is a very ſingular Manoeuvre, or rather Doit-O Euvre: It is a deliberate Extenſion of the Fore-finger and Thumb of his Right-hand to that Part of the Candle which is inflam'd, and which he ſuddenly compreſſes between his ſaid Fore-finger and Thumb, giving it a certain Pull, call'd by the Romans, Vellicatio: and by this Doit-O Euvre, he ſevers the ſaid inflamed Part of the Candle exactly in the Middle, juſt as a School-boy ſevers a Half-penny Cake, for a Moiety of which [174] he has received a Farthing from one of his School-fellows; or, as a facetious old Gentleman divides and ſub-divides the Fragments of a Tobacco-Pipe, while with circumſtantial Exactneſs he relates ſome amorous Adventure of his youthful Days. After the uſeleſs Excreſcence of the Candle is thus nicely vellicated, the worthy Preſident caſts it on the Floor, with a Grace ſimilar to that, which one Poet ſays another exhibits with his Dung; and then, while Mirth ſits on every Face, and ſparkles in every Eye, wiping his aforeſaid Fore-finger and Thumb upon his Leathern Breeches, or Black Everlaſting Waiſtcoat, he cries out, ‘"Will you be pleaſed, Gentlemen, to order?"’

THE ſecond Part of his great Work is, to open the Book of Queſtions, and acquaint the Society, that the firſt Queſtion on the Book is the next Queſtion they are to ſpeak to for their Evening's Entertainment. As a Specimen of his Oratory on this important Occaſion, we have inſerted the following Speech, which he made in February 1764.

[175]
GENTLEMEN,

THE next Queſtion on the Book for our Evening's Debate, is a Thing of Importance; and it is this: Whether a Lawyer or a Sollier is the moſt reputableſt Perſon?—Pray, Gentlemen, don't laugh; it is worded ſo in the Queſtion: Whether a Lawyer, or a Sollier—Gentlemen, you may laugh, if you pleaſe, but it is ſo here (pointing to the Book)—Whether a Lawyer or a Sollier is the moſt reputableſt Perſon? There is no Occaſion for my explaining the Terms of the Queſtion, for it is eaſy of themſelves. The Queſtion, Gentlemen, is ſign'd Britannius.—Pray, Gentlemen, don't laugh—It is againſt Order—Britannicus! Well; that's the ſame Thing. Is Mr. Britannius here? If he is not, the Queſtion is to go from me as if 'twere mine. Pray, Gentlemen, is Mr. Britannius here, Gentlemen?—Pray, Gentlemen, to Order! This is againſt Rule, Gentlemen, for Gentlemen to laugh, and to ſhew their Mirth here. [176] Pray, Gentlemen, will you be pleaſed to Order—Well, Gentlemen, as Mr. Britannius is not here, it oft for to go from me; and the Terms of it are very eaſy, Gentlemen: You all know, Gentlemen, What is meant by the Queſtion, which is, to know, which is the more reputabler Profeſſion, that of the Lawyer, or the Sollier. Now, as to a Lawyer, Gentlemen, I think, the Term needs no Explanation, and therefore I ſha'n't treſpaſs on your Time to tell you what it is: And as to a Sollier, it is as eaſy to underſtand as the other; and therefore the Queſtion may be thoft to be an Enquiry only, which is the preferabler, a Lawyer, or a Sollier. Now, there is no Doubt but ſome Gentlemen will think the Lawyer is the eminenter Man, and others will think the Sollier is ſo; but that will appear by the Debates. Now, Gentlemen, I muſt needs ſay, that for my own Part, I think a Sollier is the moſt cruelleſt Man; becauſe as why; he carries Deſtruction and Ruination with his Sword, when he is order'd by the General: But ſo you may ſay, the Lawyer does likewiſe. It's [177] true; but then People may avoid going to Law, but not to War: And therefore, I include, the Sollier is the moſt cruelleſt, and his Profeſſion froft with the greateſt Miſchief in general. A Sollier is poſſeſſed with Enthuſiam—I ſay, Enthuſiam—Pray, Gentlemen, don't laugh.—I ſay, a Sollier is toft the Dictates of Enthuſiam, and he is a worſer Character than a Lawyer, though ſome People may ſay, that bad's the beſt. The moſt commoneſt Thing in the World is to hear both theſe Characters traducified—Pray, Gentlemen, don't laugh. Gentlemen, pray, to Order—You are guilty of great Irregulation—Gentlemen, if you don't behave better, I ſhall deſire your Company out of the Room—Well: Does any Gentlemen here chooſe to ſpeak to the Queſtion? Do you chooſe to ſpeak to it, Sir? Does any Gentleman on this Side of the Way chooſe to give us his Sentiments? What No-body ſpeak to it, Gentlemen! Why, Gentlemen, it's not a difficulter Queſtion than we uſually have for our Diſcuſſation—Pray, Gentlemen, to Order—I ſay, it's not a more difficulter Queſtion [178] than many are that are propoſed for our Diſcuſſation—Why, Gentlemen, you ſhould n't laugh; you know what I mean; beſides, I am a Falmouth Man; from Falmouth, Gentlemen, in Devonſhire; and you muſt not expect my Pronunſation to be the moſt perfecteſt, for they all talk there as I do here—Pray, Gentlemen, don't laugh!—Does any one chuſe to ſpeak to the Queſtion? Oh, a Gentleman is up—Pray, Gentlemen; be ſilenced.

WE ſhall next give a Character of a Gentleman very well known in the Society, by the Name of

Mr. S**TH.

THIS Gentleman is by Trade a Dyer, and in Religion a red-hot Antimonian. When he bellows forth his peculiar Notions, his Eyes are inflamed, and his whole Body ſeems to be the Manſion of ſome turbulent Spirit. He is no tame Orator, nor wants for Choice of Words, but is ſo unhappy in the Application of them, that he conveys a quite different Meaning [179] to the Minds of the Auditors from what he himſelf underſtands: Let the Queſtion be what it will, he lugs in Religion by the Head and Shoulders, and the moſt carnal Propoſition is ſpiritualized into the moſt divine Meaning: Thus, the ſecret Parts of Religion are all peeped into and expoſed, and Diſcourſes in the Style of the Canticles, propoſed as proper for Imitation. S**TH is a great Admirer of WHITFIELD, and thinks him one of the greateſt Men in Europe. If Regard is extorted, and Eſteem rivetted, by a mutual Sympathy of Minds, and a ſimilar Turn of Thinking, it is no Wonder our Orator ſhould have conceived an high Opinion of his Brother Orator: And, indeed, their Oratory is not much unlike, for Orator S**TH is as ranting, as unintelligible, and as enthuſiaſtic, as Orator WH**F***D.

AS to the Abilities of this curious Gentleman, they may be eaſily gueſſed at from what we have ſaid, and to dwell longer on ſuch a Character, would be to intimate he was of more Importance than he really is. However, we ſhould ill diſcharge our Duty of giving competent [180] Ideas of our Orators, did we not draw their leading Features; though we pretend not to be ſo particular as to paint all of them.

Mr. B**K*R.

THIS Gentleman is a Phyſician, and lately lived at Trowbridge in Wilts, but now reſides in London. He is a Man of extenſive Knowledge, and ſtrict Probity, and is almoſt the only Orator in the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY that ſpeaks to a Queſtion; the Imagination of the major Part of thoſe Gentlemen being either ſo exalted, as to carry them into the Clouds, or ſo groveling, as to put them on a Level with Coblers and Tinkers: The Queſtion itſelf is ſeldom adverted to; and the End of their ſpeaking during the ſix Minutes allow'd them, ſeems to be merely to ſhew that they are endued with one Faculty, which other Animals do not poſſeſs.

[181]

Mr. RICHARD M*C**L*Y.

A PROFESSED Deiſt, and an Orator without Ideas, and with a very affected and vicious Pronunciation. His Notions of Religion are intirely borrowed from COLLINS, HOBBES, and TYNDALL, and his Oratory from Billingſgate. He was formerly a Tobacconiſt, but is now Clerk to a Linnen-Draper.

Mr. C**D**L.

A BRAZIER in Buſineſs, and a Deiſt in Principle; illiterate to the laſt Degree, and as void of good Manners as of good Senſe. His Voice reſembles a Sowgelder's Horn, or a Crier of wild Beaſts at a Country Fair. Need I ſay more of ſuch a worthy Member of ſo worthy a Society?

[182]

Mr. V*N*B**S.

AN Attorney, or an Attorney's Clerk, that pours out Vollies of Nonſenſe, as faſt as a London Militia Platoon fire their Muſkets. He is a profeſſed Advocate for all miniſterial Meaſures, and endeavours to prove, by Logic and Noiſe, that Miniſters, like Kings, can do no Wrong. If his Opponents inſiſt, that if they can do no Wrong, they muſt be infallible, and Infallibility only is the Attribute of GOD; he anſwers, they are infallible, and are appointed by GOD; ſo that the divine indefeaſible Right of Kings, with all its concommitant Circumſtances of Non-Reſiſtance and Paſſive Obedience, are ſtrongly enforced by this ingenious Quill-driver in every Political Debate. If it is objected to him, that the Jure Divino is a Doctrine that ſtrikes at the Vitals of our preſent Conſtitution, by tacitly declaring the glorious Revolution to be an Uſurpation, and the preſent illuſtrious Houſe of Hanover, to be mere P**t**d**s to the Throne, he will not diſpute the Inference, but maintain his Poſition.—So much for his Political Notions. As to his religious ones, [183] he is not leſs ſtrenuous. He thinks the Church, eſtabliſhed by Law in this Kingdom, not only the beſt viſible Church on Earth, but that it is abſolutely without Spot or Blemiſh; and he would have as implicit a Regard paid to all human Ordinances and Ceremonies as to the moſt divine Precepts; and in conſequence of theſe very orthodox and very charitable Opinions, he thinks all who diſſent from the eſtabliſhed Church, ſhould immediately quit England, and reſide elſewhere: But to what Place they are to retire he does not inform us. As to the Deiſts, he laſhes them without Mercy, and pronounces it impoſſible for them to be uſeful Subjects, or honeſt Men; and therefore, as they cannot be ſerviceable in a State, they ſhould be baniſhed from it, or broke upon the Wheel, or, at leaſt, be kept in Priſon to hard Labour, till their Minds are open to Conviction, and prepared to believe the glorious Truths of the Goſpel.

IT is with no ſmall Difficulty we have fathomed theſe Sentiments of our Man of Law; who brings together ſuch a Cloud of unmeaning Words, that it requires a very penetrating Eye to ſee through the Obſcurity: That Eye we think we poſſeſs.

[184] AS an Orator, he is extremely contemptible: His Action is forced, violent, and unnatural, and his Pronunciation, which is very vicious, is made more diſagreeable by his ſtammering. His Mind ſeems ſtored with very few Ideas, and thoſe few, very wrong ones. His mental Optics are extremely defective, and he views Things by ſuch broken and refracted Rays, as render them ſcarcely viſible. It is no Wonder, therefore, that he ſhould not be able to make his Auditors fully perceive what he does not clearly behold himſelf. In a Word, his Character is well expreſſed in Mr. POPE'S Parody of a Paſſage in DENHAM'S Cooper's-Hill, deſcribing the River Thames:

Flow, Welſted flow! like thine Inſpirer, Beer,
Tho' ſtale, not ripe, tho' thin, yet never clear;
So ſweetly mawkiſh, and ſo ſmoothly dull:
Heady, not ſtrong; o'erflowing, tho' not full.

A Specimen of his Oratory is given in the following little Speech which he made on this Queſtion, [185]Whether the Robinhood Society has not a viſible Tendency to improve our Morals, and refine our Taſte! BRITANNICUS.

Mr. PRESIDENT!

I REALLY muſt be of the affirmative Side of this Queſtion, though—aw—aw—the Gentleman yonder in the Cut Wig has—aw—aw—declared himſelf—aw—aw—of a contrray Opinion. A contrary Opinion, I ſay, Mr. Preſident. Mr. Preſident,—aw—aw—I really think—aw—aw—that this Society—aw—aw—this Society I ſay,—aw—aw—does tend—aw—to refine our Morals, and—aw—aw—to improve our Taſte. To improve our Taſte—aw—aw—is a noble Work, and—aw—aw—uſeful to Society. Society is benefited by it; that is, Mr. Preſident. But aw—aw—there is another Advantage—aw—aw—our Society has, and that is, that we acquire Eloquence, and with that—aw—aw—get Wives; becauſe we—aw—aw—charm them with the Muſic of—aw—aw—our Tongues, and they cannot—aw—aw—reſiſt us.

[186] WE muſt inform the Reader, that tho' the Speaker of this Speech has attended the Society ſeveral Years, his Eloquence has not yet procured him a Wife. We can alſo aſſure him, that the Speech itſelf is genuine, having taken it down verbatim, in Short-hand, at the Time of its Delivery.

WE ſhall dwell no longer on this Gentleman than juſt to obſerve, that he is extremely culpable in ſpeaking out of Turn, entering into perſonal Altercations, and anſwering every Obſervation that glances on himſelf, which greatly obſtructs the Debates, throws the Society into Diſorder, and only manifeſts the Author's Petulance of Temper.

Mr. A. M. E. C**KE.

SOME Readers will wonder what Myſtery is couched under the Letters A. M. E. and ſome will ſuppoſe that they are no more than the Initials of Mr. C**KE'S Chriſtian Names—His Chriſtian Name is THOMAS; but ſince a certain Operation he perform'd on himſelf, he [187] has, in his numerous Writings, intitled himſelf A. M. E. C**KE; Letters, which though unintelligible to the Public, are yet full of Meaning to us, who have a great Intimacy with this Gentleman; and they ſignify ADAM, MOSES, EMANUEL.—So much for his adopted Name.

HE was born in Northumberland, receiv'd a liberal Education there, and from thence was ſent to Oxford: In due Time he enter'd into Orders, return'd to his native County, and was ſoon after preſented with a pretty good Living. A Turn for Myſteries led him to a Peruſal of ſome of our myſtic Writers, and he caught the ſame enthuſiaſtic Flame which warm'd them. A recluſe and ſedentary Life greatly cheriſh'd his Notions, and it was not long before Parſon C**KE was look'd on by all the Country as a ſecond JACOB BEHMEN. But he had ſome Notions peculiar to himſelf. He maintain'd in his Sermons, and in his private Converſation, that the Jewiſh Ceremonies were not abrogated by the Chriſtian Diſpenſation, but were ſtill of univerſal Obligation. In particular, he inſiſted on the Neceſſity of Circumciſion, and ſupported his Doctrine by his own Practice. Such novel Notions, [188] and ſuch extravagant Behaviour in a Proteſtant Clergyman, ſoon reached the Ears of the Biſhop of the Dioceſe, and he was deprived, and his Living given to another. Our Jewiſh Chriſtian then came to London, and commenced Author; but his unintelligible Jargon not ſelling, he was reduced to great Diſtreſs. In this Dilemma he knew not what to do; but, at laſt, put in Practice another odd Notion, that the Goods of Fortune ought to be ſhared in common by all God's Creatures..

AMONG various Expedients for ſatisfying his Hunger formed upon this Plan, one was, to reſort to ſome well-frequented Coffee-houſe, and placing himſelf at a Table, to appropriate to his own Uſe the firſt buttered Muffin and Pot of Coffee that was brought to it. This he would often be permitted to do, without any Interruption from the Gentlemen that ſat near him, ſome of whom were diverted, and ſome aſtoniſhed, to ſee a Clergyman thus familiarly regale himſelf with a Breakfaſt that was not provided for him. As ſoon as it was finiſhed, however, he would riſe from the Table, ſay a ſhort Grace, and very unconcernedly make towards the Door; and, when queſtioned by the [189] Maſter of the Coffee-houſe, about the Impropriety of uſing that which he did not order, and the Injuſtice of not paying for it when he had done, he would prove by Mode and Figure, that the good Things of this World ought to be in common. The Bucks and Bloods enjoyed the Joke, and a Ring was uſually formed for the two Diſputants, the Parſon and the Coffee-man; but the Coffee-man being unable to invalidate the Teſtimonies brought out of the Talmud, and many learned Writings, which were quoted in Hebrew, Greek and Latin, the Parſon always came off victorious.

ANOTHER Practice by which this Gentleman ſignalized himſelf, was Street-Preaching; and having for ſome Time before let his Beard grow, he was generally known by the Name of The Bearded Prieſt. In this extravagant Manner he went on for ſome Time, 'till ſome Clergymen made Intereſt for him to be ſent to Bedlam, where he was confined for about two or three Years. As ſoon as he was releaſed, he took a Reſolution of going to Scotland, and actually travelled over that Country on Foot, with not a ſingle Farthing in his Pocket, ſubſiſting, [190] as himſelf informs us in one of his Pamphlets, by the Contributions of the welldiſpoſed. From thence he went to Ireland, and travelled over a great Part of that Kingdom; and on his Arrival at Dublin, in 1760, was entertained by ſome Gentlemen in Trinity College, who, compaſſionating the melancholy Caſe of a Clergyman in Diſtreſs, gave him his Board and Lodging gratis. After he had ſtaid here a few Months, and publiſhed ſome very original Pieces, which no one could underſtand but himſelf, he return'd to England, viſited Oxford, and then came again to London, where he now reſides, but intends going to America, as ſoon as his Finances will enable him.

Mr. ST***T.

A YOUNG Surgeon, that poſſeſſes much Knowledge, and ſpeaks with uncommon Propriety and Correctneſs. He has not long frequented the Society, and comes there, apparently, more with a View of being diverted, than the Hopes of being edified.

[191]

Mr. W**L**GS.

A JUDICIOUS, humane, and honeſt Man. He is a Druggiſt by Profeſſion, and lives in the Poultry. As an Orator, he is neither excellent, nor contemptible. His Reaſoning is cloſe, nervous, and always to the Point. His Sentiments are judicious, orthodox, and pure, and breathe the true Spirit of Chriſtianity, which inſpires an unreſtrained Benevolence towards the whole human and animal Species, and is not angry with thoſe who differ in ſpeculative Opinions, that little intereſt the moral Conduct of Mankind. This Gentleman, however, ſeldom comes to the ROBINHOOD, but is a conſtant Attendant at the Queen's Arms Society in Newgate Street, a Society formed on much the ſame Plan, but conducted with infinitely greater Decorum. He is alſo a Preſident of that Society, and fills the Chair with Honour.

[192]

Mr. W**H***LL.

COMMONLY called the good-natured Calviniſt. Why he is called ſo, I own, is to me a Myſtery; as his pious Fury is breathed forth with an unextinguiſhable Spirit againſt thoſe who differ from him in Opinion; particularly the Roman Catholics and the Deiſts. I need not ſay more of him, than that with Reſpect to his Oratory, and many of his Sentiments, he is a ſecond Edition of Mr. S**TH, the Antinomian. He is an Exciſeman by Profeſſion.

Mr. BR**M*N.

A RED-hot Papiſt, with little Judgment, and leſs Charity, whoſe Yorkſhire Wife perverted him to the Roman Catholic Religion. Furious, perſecuting, and revengeful, he is himſelf an Epitome of his Church, and exhibits a true Picture of a rigid Roman Catholic. By Profeſſion he is a School-maſter, and lives in Little Ruſſel Street, near B—y S—; but if the Pedagogue does not excel the [193] Orator, he is contemptible to the laſt Degree.

Mr. G**D***TH.

A MAN of Learning and Judgment, Author of An Inquiry into the modern State of Literature in EUROPE, and many other ingenious Works; a good Orator, and a candid Diſputant, with a clear Head, and an honeſt Heart. He comes but ſeldom to the Society.

Mr. W*LK*R.

A COMEDIAN belonging to the Theatre in Covent Garden, a Man of extreme good Senſe, Erudition, and Candor. He greatly excels as an Orator, having a full, round, and ſtrong Voice, a Facility of Utterance, a graceful Pronunciation, and a beautiful Action. If Wit, as it has been defined by a great Poet, conſiſts in a quick Conception, and an eaſy Delivery, Mr. W*LK*R has a great Share of it. We have been much ſurpriſed at the low Eſtimation this Gentleman is held in here, as an Actor. We have ſeen him perform [194] very capital Characters at the Theatre-Royal in Crow-Street, Dublin, with great Judgment and Execution, and with univerſal Applauſe; and muſt own we are at a Loſs to what to impute his being placed on Covent-Garden Stage in a different and inferior Walk.

Mr. WILLIAM H****S.

THE Clerk of the Society, who takes Care that the Diſputants are duly ſupplied with Porter and Lemonade, to refreſh their Spirits, and enable them to ſpeak with Clearneſs and Energy. He lives in Barbican, keeps a Chandler's Shop there, is a Porter alſo at the India Warehouſe, is a very honeſt Man, and is poſſeſſed of good natural Abilities.

Mr. B**D**GT*N.

A DEIST with Reſpect to his irreligious Notions, of tolerable good Senſe, and full of Words; ſo that though he cannot be ſaid to be a deep Philoſopher, he may be conſidered as a flaſhy ROBINHOOD Orator.

[195]

Mr. P**E.

A MAN that, by his Oddity of Aſpect, and Peculiarity of Expreſſion, has attracted the public attention in a conſiderable Degree; for he has been frequently honoured by being made the Subject of ſome Eſſays in our daily Papers.

HE was born at Exeter about fiftyeight Years ago, of poor, but, as it is ſaid, honeſt Parents, who ſent him to School, where he learnt both to read and write. At the Age of thirteen he was apprenticed there to a Shoemaker, and during his Apprenticeſhip, took great Delight in reading the delectable Poems of WITHERS, QUARLES, HERBERT, CLEVELAND, and other very great Authors, and read them ſo frequently, that he got many of them by Heart. At the Expiration of his Apprenticeſhip, he came to London, and having received ſome ſmall Pittance from his Friends, ſet up for himſelf in the Strand, took unto him a Wife, and had four or five Children by her. So far we ſee the bright View of his Life's Hiſtory. But the World ſoon frowned [196] on him; and though he was continually ‘"ſupplying his Knowledge-Box with Furniture,"’ as himſelf elegantly expreſſes it, by reading the before-mentioned Authors, and attending conſtantly at Mr. Orator HENLEY'S Chapel, to whom he was Mouth-Piece, running on his Errands, praiſing his Oratory, and doing him other Services, yet his Stock in Trade, his Houſhold Goods, his Cuſtomers, and his Reputation, were decreaſing daily. Altho' Poverty now not only ſtared our Orator in the Face, but was his conſtant Companion, yet was he indefatigable in the Improvement of his Mind, and bore his Miſery with great Patience. But his Rib poſſeſſed not the ſame Fortitude. She lamented her Infelicity in very pathetic Terms, and Tears ran from her Eyes in copious Streams. P*** beheld her Diſtreſs with the Apathy of a Stoic; he anſwered her Complaints and Remonſtrances with ſome Verſes of QUARLES, and her Tears he endeavoured to dry up with ſome Sentiments from HERBERT or CLEVELAND: but all would not avail; her Tongue ſtill ran on, and her Tears ſtill flowed. She wanted more ſubſtantial Food, than dull Lines of Jingle; and had rather ſee ſome Bread and Cheeſe, and ſmall Beer [197] on the Table, for herſelf and Children, than hear the beſt Arguments in the World, to prove that whatever is, is right. Upbraidings and ſevere Reproaches followed, and the Wife inſiſted, that the Huſband was an idle Fellow, who neglected his Buſineſs, and the moſt important Concerns, merely to prate about Things he did not underſtand, and to attend the Atheiſtical Orator, whoſe Diſcourſes he could never be benefitted by. After living ſome Years in this uncomfortable State, the Wife and Children left the Huſband to his Fate, and purſued their own. The Wife took decent Lodgings, ſought out for Buſineſs in Waſhing and Plain-Work, and ſucceeded ſo well, that ſhe bred up her Children properly, wanted for nothing, and lived happily. As to our Son of CRISPIN, he took a paltry Lodging, and went on in the ſame idle Manner as before, getting what Work he could, and putting it out to be performed. In this Manner he has continued for ſome Years.

As to the Oratory of this Poetical Cobler, as he is uſually called, it is,

—Rudis, indigeſtaque moles,
Non bene junctarum diſcordia ſemina rerum.

[198] HIS Speeches do not conſiſt of his own Sentiments on the Queſtion, but only of an Application of the Sentiments of thoſe polite Authors he is moſt converſant with. He is, indeed, a mere Retailer of other Men's Opinions, and his Orations are like an Harlequin's patched Coat; and yet he has Vanity enough to think himſelf a Man of great Knowledge; and takes the Laugh of Contempt, which he frequently hears at the Society, for a Proof of their Approbation.

HIS Speech on this Queſtion, ‘Whether Eloquence is of Uſe to Society? CICERO. exhibits a very ample and ſtriking Specimen of his Oratory.

Mr. PRESIDENT!

THAT there Gentleman, on this Side of the Way, ſeems to want a Light to be ſtruck into his Knowledge-Box: If he had opened the Trap-Doors of his Mind, it might have entered in. But I find it has not; and therefore, [199] his Underſtanding wants ſnuffing. He has really ſpoke like a Crabb-Lantern, and a Snap-Jack; ſo I have done with him. Howſumdever, I ſhall now take Notice of the other rum Gentleman, who thought I was a Man of Fortune, in his ſpeaking to the laſt rum Queſtion, in ſo rum a Manner.

But tho' I in this Scarlet Coat appear,
I am not worth a ſingle Groat a Year.

So much for him—As to the Queſtion, Mr. Preſident, I think it is no Queſtion at all; for every one that has not Detraction in the Head, and Prejudice in the Heart, muſt own and confeſs,

That Words alone can Harmony impart,
To charm th' Attention, and command the Heart

And that is Eloquence, Mr. Preſident, and ſuch as muſt be admitted by all who do not ſeek the Indulgence of their voracious Appetites: And

Which Heads refin'd alone by Reaſon know,
Where Senſe and Judgment do together flow.

Reaſon, Mr. Preſident, is King Nature's [200] Privy Counſellor; and Eloquence is to teach us

To reaſon down the Fever of the Blood,
And ſooth with Words the Tumult of the Soul.

I wiſh the Gentleman in his own Hair, yonder, who is now picking his Teeth, and who looks with three Eyes at me, had marſhalled up his Thoughts, harmonized his Underſtanding, regulated his Ideas, and informed his Judgment; then he might

Blow away, and ſpeak at large,
And with a holy Violence ram down the Charge.

Inſtead of which he has taken hold of the Muzzle inſtead of the But-End of the Doctrine, and hurried a half-formed Production on the Public.

He has launch'd forth quite into wild Extremes,
Of ſenſeleſs Noiſe, and undiſtinguiſh'd Themes.

Howſumdever, Mr. Preſident, I forgive him for his Fun-Dawſit on me; eſpecially, as his Thoughts is ſtagnated, [201] and an Embargo laid on his Underſtanding: For,

Forgiveneſs to the Injur'd does belong;
They never pardon that have done the Wrong.

Eloquence, Mr. Preſident, may be defined to be, as it were, as when a Man is eloquent; and to be ſo, he ought to do as I do; that is, drink a good deal of Gin, and avoid eating Onions. A great Poet ſays;

Immortal Gin! ſince I have ſung thy Praiſe,
Crown me with Juniper inſtead of Bays,

And that is Eloquence itſelf, Mr. Preſident; and no one will diſpute it that has poiſed their Underſtanding, and not violated the Dignity of human Nature. Thoſe who diſpute it, like my Wife's Relations,

May the Curſe of G— then light on one and all,
To d— their Bodies, but preſerve their Soul.

As to that Gentleman that ſaid Eloquence is hurtful to Society, becauſe Poets are eloquent, and, in conſequence [202] of it, poor, it by no Means follows; howſumdever,

If Thought alone the Appetite can clay,
Could Poets live, Camelion-like, on Air;
If neither Thirſt or Hunger could annoy,
The pooreſt Poet never need deſpair.

So that this Gentleman's Speech was a falſe Motion, Mr. Preſident, and the Queſtion topped his Underſtanding; howſumdever, he choſe to ſpeak to it, leſt he ſhould over-gorge himſelf, and burſt at the Touch-hole. Another Gentleman, who ſaid as how Eloquence was pernicious, ſeems to have contracted all his Senſes into his Bowſprit, to have loaded his Head with Argument, and then to have primed, cocked, and fired away; howſumdever, I excuſe him, becauſe I find he is one of the croſs-legged Knights of the Steel-Bar, and a Wit. But Mr. POPE ſays,

A Wit's a Feather, and a Chief's a Rod;
An honeſt Man's the nobleſt Work of GOD.

Eloquence, Mr. Preſident, is the Gift of the SUPREME; and we oft not to deſpiſe any of his Gifts: Now, if I had [203] the Wiſdom of ULYSSES, the Arms of ACHILLES, the Riches of CROESUS, and the Wiſdom of SOLOMON,

I'd ſcower the Univerſe from Folly and from Vice,
And make this World a ſecond Paradiſe.

But I fear it's impoſſible for me to do this, though, with Eloquence, one might almoſt do any Thing, even if one were attacked both in Front and Flank, and knocked down in the Rear. But I think that thoſe ſhould,

Who ſtrive to diſcompoſe th' exalted Mind,
Be to eternal Baniſhment confin'd.

And ſome of theſe there are in this Society, who are for interrupting me in my Diſcourſe very often; but they had better open the Caſements of their Bodies to let in Light to their Minds, as I do; for I always

Do much deſire and long to know,
The Wit that from Choice Spirits flow.

Mr. Preſident! I ſee your all-ſilencing Hammer is lifted up to knock me [204] down; but I ſhall juſt deſire to relate a Fact, which I know to be true, of the public Crier at Topſham in Devonſhire, which I conſider as a very good Piece of Eloquence. He had no leſs than ten Children; and they becoming chargeable to the Pariſh, he was required by the Church-wardens to get no more, and uſed barbarouſly for thoſe he had; whereupon he went into the Marketplace, took his Bell in his Hand, rung it, and then ſaid, O Yes!—O Yes!—O Yes!—This is to give Notice,

That when Breeches and Petticoats do come near,
Fleſh and Blood cannot forbear.

This was wielding the ſacred Weapon, and making the Muſe to flow, and I think he acted right in all Reſpects; for Mr. POPE ſays,

The Goods of Fortune variouſly are giv'n;
A Wife is the peculiar Gift of Heav'n.

He doesn't ſay two, Mr. Preſident. But I ſee the uplifted, all-ſilencing Hammer again fills your Hand, and threatens my Head; and therefore I [205] muſt conclude. But, Mr. Preſident, give me Leave to mention a bad Cuſtom in this Society, which is to ſhew Marks of their Approbration or Diſapprobration: Now, Mr. Preſident, I never clap the Speakers, for fear of p*x**g their Underſtandings; and yet, I'll work, walk, or talk, as much for a Shilling, as any Lawyer or Parſon in England will for a Guinea.

WITH this Character we ſhall cloſe our Account of the principal Speakers of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY; an Account, that though written without Embelliſhment, is not deſtitute of Fidelity and Candour. Uninfluenced by any private Views, we have neither indulged Reſentment by wanton Cenſure, nor, for the Sake of perſonal Attachments, proſtituted Praiſe.

OF the general Character of the Society, and its Influence on the Minds of young Perſons, little has been ſaid: And while we were lately ruminating on the Manner in which we ſhould conclude this great Work, a Friend, who had peruſed our Manuſcript, came in; and, after knowing the Subject of our Meditations, thus warmly expoſtulated upon it.

[206]

THERE can be no Doubt in what Light the Society muſt appear to every Mind, whoſe Judgment is not determined by Fancy and Paſſion, but by the Nature and Tendency of Principles and Actions demonſtrated by Facts. From the Hiſtory you have given of the Society, it is evident, that it maintained its Uſefulneſs and Honour no longer, than while it faithfully adhered to that fundamental Law of its Inſtitution, by which all religious Queſtions were excluded from the Subjects of Debate.

WHEN, for the Diffuſion of uſeful Knowledge, it was thought expedient to admit every Perſon that choſe to come, and, for that Purpoſe, to aſſemble at a Public-Houſe; if two or three Hours had been ſet apart for the Buſineſs of the Night, and no eating drinking or ſmoaking had been permitted in that Interval; and, if the Subjects of Debate had been confined to the Trade and Manufactures of Great Britain, to Natural Hiſtory, the Mathematics, and the Liberal Arts; how poorly would the Meetings of the Society have been attended! Though its Credit might [207] have remained, its Number would not have been much increaſed. But, as ſoon as it was known, that the Drunkard and the Glutton might regale themſelves at the Expence of the Temperate, and that every illiterate Prater might diſplay his Oratory, and ſignalize himſelf as the Champion of Deiſm or Chriſtianity; the Society was immediately crowded with noiſy Butchers, Tinkers, and Coblers; with ſelf-conceited and frontleſs Infidels; with thoſe not leſs profane, though more inconſiſtent, Arians and Socinians; and with the moſt contentious, and yet the worſt Diſputers about Chriſtianity, Calviniſts and Antinomians. The firſt Principles of Religion, and the eſſential Doctrines of the Goſpel, were called in Queſtion every Night in the Preſence of young People, who unhappily deviating in their Search after Truth and Goodneſs, were here betrayed into Error, and ſhut up from the Sight of That, by which alone Sin can be deſtroyed and Holineſs reſtored.

THE Book of Queſtions, as you have repreſented it, is itſelf a ſufficient Proof of the licentious and even wanton [208] Levity, with which the moſt ſacred Doctrines and Characters have been treated: In the Specimen of Religious Queſtions which, you ſay, you have ſelected from that Book, there were two, which I was compelled to ſtrike out, to ſave myſelf from being a Partaker in the Guilt of the moſt horrid Blaſphemy. And he, who, by his Preſence, has contributed to ſupport a Society, in which ſuch Queſtions are ſuffered to be propoſed, regiſtered, and debated, has ſo far contributed to the Support of Profaneneſs and Impiety. From this Charge I exempt not even THE BAKER himſelf, who is intitled to no higher Honour from his long Preſidentſhip, than that of keeping a rude Multitude in ſome external Order, and preſerving the Regularity of an Infidel-Diſputation.

MANY Things, indeed, are called Religion that do not belong to it; but that which is eſſential in Religion, is private and perſonal, ſubſiſting not in diſputable Notions and refined Arguments, but in the Senſibilities and Perceptions of the Heart: For who, in his Senſes, can diſpute a Moment [209] whether he is a Sinner? and who, that feels himſelf a Sinner, can diſpute a Moment whether he ſhould receive or reject the Pardon that is offered him? and who can depend upon the Pardon of Sin, any further than he feels in his Heart a Principle diſapproving, diſowning, reſiſting and ſubduing the Power of Sin? And yet what is more prevalent in all our Societies for Free Debate and Inquiry, than the Folly and Madneſs of attempting to deſtroy theſe Senſibilities, to ſtifle theſe Convictions, and to prove, by Logical Diſputation, that Man is now as he was originally made; that he is, therefore, no Sinner; and that, conſequently, he needeth no Redeemer. But he, who abandons that penitential and humbling Senſe of Sin, and that endearing Senſe of pardoning Mercy, which the Chriſtian Redemption awakens in every Heart; and endeavours to perſuade himſelf, that he can be ſet free from his Evil and Miſery, and made good and happy, by Definitions, or Axioms, or Forms, or Syſtems, or any Thing leſs than the Renovation of a Divine Life; abandons that for which the [210] whole Creation cannot yield him a Recompence.

OF the Nature and Tendency of all theſe Societies for free Debate and Inquiry, the Writer of THE ADVENTURER has expreſſed his Sentiments with juſt Indignation.

NOTHING (ſays he) has offended me more, than the Manner in which Subjects of eternal Moment are often treated. To diſpute on Moral and Theological Topics, is become a Faſhion; and it is uſual with Perſons, of whom it is no Reproach to ſay they are ignorant, becauſe their Opportunities of gaining Knowledge have been few, to determine with the utmoſt confidence upon Queſtions to which no human Intellect is equal. In almoſt every Tavern and every Alehouſe, illiterate Petulance prates of Fitneſs and Virtue, of Freedom and Fate; and it is common to hear Diſputes concerning everlaſting Happineſs and Miſery, the Myſteries of Religion and the Attributes of GOD, intermingled with Lewdneſs and Blaſphemy, or at leaſt treated with wanton Negligence and abſurd Merriment.

[211] FOR Lewdneſs and Blaſphemy, it is hoped no Apology will ſeriouſly be offered: And it is probable, that if the Queſtion in Debate was, which of the Diſputants ſhould be hanged on the Morrow, it would be conducted with Decency and Gravity, as a Matter of ſome Importance: That viſible good Humour, and that noble Freedom, of which they appear to be ſo fond, would be thought not well to agree with their Subject; nor would either of the Gentlemen be much delighted, if an Argument intended to demonſtrate that he would, within a few Hours, be ſuſpended on a Gibbet, ſhould be embelliſhed with a witty Alluſion to a Button and Loop, or a jocular Remark, that it would effectually ſecure him from future Accidents, either by Land or Water: And yet the Juſtice and Mercy of OMNIPOTENCE, the Life and Death of the Soul, are treated with Ridicule and Sport; and it is contended, that with Ridicule and Sport, they ought always to be treated.

BUT the Effect, as well as the Manner of thoſe faſhionable Diſputes, is [212] always ill: They tend to eſtabliſh what is called Natural Religion, upon the Ruins of CHRISTIANITY; and a Man has no ſooner ſtiled himſelf a Moral Philoſopher, than he finds that his Duty both to GOD and Man, is contracted into a very ſmall Compaſs, and may be practiſed with the greateſt Facility. Yet, as this Effect is not always apparent, the Unwary are frequently deluded into fatal Error, and imagine they are attaining the higheſt Degree of Moral Excellence, while they are inſenſibly loſing the Principles upon which alone Temptation can be reſiſted, and a ſteady Perſeverance in well-doing, ſecured.

AMONG other favourite and unſuſpected Topics, is the EXCELLENCY OF VIRTUE. Virtue is ſaid neceſſarily to produce its own Happineſs, and to be conſtantly and adequately its own Reward; as Vice, on the contrary, never fails to produce Miſery, and inflict upon itſelf the Puniſhment it deſerves; Propoſitions, of which every one is ready to affirm, that they may be admitted without Scruple, and believed without Danger. But from hence [213] it is inferred, that future Rewards and Puniſhments are not neceſſary, either to furniſh adequate Motives to the Practice of Virtue, or to juſtify the Ways of GOD: In Conſequence of their being not neceſſary, they become doubtful; the DEITY is leſs and leſs the Object of Fear and Hope; and as Virtue is ſaid to be that which produces ultimate Good below, whatever is ſuppoſed to produce ultimate Good below, is ſaid to be Virtue: Right and wrong are confounded, becauſe remote Conſequences cannot perfectly be known; the principal Barrier by which Appetite and Paſſion are reſtrained, is broken down. The Remonſtrances of Conſcience are overborne by Sophiſtry; and the acquired and habitual Shame of Vice is ſubdued by the perpetual Efforts of vigorous Reſiſtance.

THE Paper which contains this Paſſage, ſeems to have been written as an Introduction to the Story of poor DICK FREEMAN, related by himſelf under the aſſumed Name of OPSINOUS. And as that Story is a forcible Inſtance of the unhappy Influence of Diſputing-Clubs, and may ſtrike thoſe whom [214] Perſuaſion will not reach, I think you cannot do better than print it as a Concluſion to your Hiſtory of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY.

THUS ended my Friend, whoſe Opinion upon this Matter I have made public, as the beſt Reaſon for my taking his Advice. The Story he recommends, is as follows.

To the ADVENTURER.

SIR,

OF all the Expedients that have been found out to alleviate the Miſeries of Life, none is left to deſpair but Complaint: And though Complaint, without Hope of Relief, may be thought rather to increaſe than mitigate Anguiſh, as it recollects every Circumſtance of Diſtreſs, and imbitters the Memory of paſt Sufferings by the Anticipation of future; yet, like weeping, it is an Indulgence of that which it is Pain to ſuppreſs, and ſooths with the Hope of Pity the Wretch who deſpairs of Comfort. Of this Number is he who now addreſſes you: Yet the Solace of Complaint and the Hope of Pity, are not the only Motives that have induced [215] me to communicate the Series of Events, by which I have been led on in an inſenſible Deviation from Felicity, and at laſt plunged in irremediable Calamity: I wiſh that others may eſcape Perdition; and am, therefore, ſolicitous to warn them of the Path, that leads to the Precipice from which I have fallen.

I AM the only Child of a wealthy Farmer, who, as he was himſelf illiterate, was the more zealous to make his Son a Scholar, imagining, that there was in the Knowledge of Greek and Latin, ſome ſecret Charm of perpetual Influence, which, as I paſſed through Life, would ſmooth the Way before me, eſtabliſh the Happineſs of Succeſs, and ſupply new Reſources to Diſappointment. But not being able to deny himſelf the Pleaſure he found in having me about him, inſtead of ſending me out to a Boarding-School, he offered the Curate of the Pariſh ten Pounds a Year and his Board, to become my Tutor.

THIS Gentleman, who was in Years, and had lately buried his Wife, accepted the Employment, but refuſed the Salary: The Work of Education, he ſaid, would agreeably fill his Intervals of Leiſure, and [216] happily coincide with the Duties of his Function: But he obſerved that his Curacy, which was thirty Pounds a Year, and had long ſubſiſted him when he had a Family, would make him wealthy now he was a ſingle Man; and therefore he inſiſted to pay for his Board: To this my Father, with whatever Reluctance, was obliged to conſent. At the Age of ſix Years I began to read my Accidence under my Preceptor, and at fifteen had gone through the Latin and Greek Claſſics. But the Languages were not all that I learned of this Gentleman; beſides other Science of leſs Importance, he taught me the Theory of CHRISTIANITY by his Precepts, and the Practice by his Example.

AS his Temper was calm and ſteady, the Influence which he had acquired over me, was unlimited: He was never caprieiouſly ſevere; ſo that I regarded his Diſpleaſure not as an Effect of his Infirmity, but of my own Fault: He diſcovered ſo much Affection in the Pleaſure with which he commended, and in the tender concern with which he reproved me, that I loved him as a Father; and his Devotion, tho' rational and manly, was yet ſo habitual and fervent, that I reverenced him as a [217] Saint. I found even my Paſſions controuled by an Awe which his Preſence impreſſed; and, by a conſtant Attention to his Doctrine and Life, I acquired ſuch a Senſe of my Connexion with the inviſible World, and ſuch a Conviction of the Conſciouſneſs of DEITY to all my Thoughts, that every inordinate Wiſh was ſecretly ſuppreſſed, and my Conduct regulated by the moſt ſcrupulous circumſpection.

MY Father thought he had now taken ſufficient Care of my Education, and therefore began to expect that I ſhould aſſiſt in overlooking his Servants, and managing his Farm, in which he intended I ſhould ſucceed him: But my Preceptor, whoſe principal View was not my temporal Advantage, told him, that, as a Farmer, great Part of my Learning would be totally uſeleſs; and that the only Way to make me ſerviceable to Mankind, in Proportion to the Knowledge I had acquired, would be to ſend me to the Univerſity, that at a proper Time I might take Orders. But my Father, beſides that he was ſtill unwilling to part with me, had probably many Reaſons againſt my entering the World in a Caſſock: Such, [218] however, was the Deference which he paid to my Tutor, that he had almoſt implicitly ſubmitted to his Determination; when a Relation of my Mother's, who was an Attorney of great Practice in the Temple, came to ſpend part of the long Vacation at our Houſe, in conſequence of Invitations which had been often repeated during an Abſence of many Years.

MY Father thought that an Opportunity of conſulting how to diſpoſe of me with a man ſo well acquainted with Life, was not to be loſt; and perhaps he ſecretly hoped, that my Preceptor would give up his Opinion as indefenſible, if a Perſon of the Lawyer's Experience ſhould declare againſt it. My Couſin was accordingly made Umpire in the Debate; and after he had heard the Arguments on both Sides, he declared againſt my becoming a Farmer: He ſaid it would be an Act of Injuſtice to bury my Parts and Learning in the Obſcurity of Rural Life; becauſe, if produced to the World, they would probably be rewarded with Wealth and Diſtinction. My Preceptor imagined the Queſtion was now finally determined in his Favour; and being obliged to viſit one of his Pariſhioners that was ſick, he gave me a Look [219] of Congratulation as he went out, and I perceived his Cheek glow with a Fluſh of Triumph, and his Eye ſparkle with Tears of Delight.

BUT he had no ſooner left the Room, than my Couſin gave the Converſation another Turn: He told my Father, that though he had oppoſed his making me a Farmer, he was not an Advocate for my becoming a Parſon; for that, to make a young Fellow a Parſon, without being able to procure him a Living, was to make him a Beggar. He then made ſome witty Reflections on the old Gentleman who was juſt gone out: ‘"Nobody (he ſaid) could queſtion his having been put to a bad Trade, who conſidered his Circumſtances now he had followed it forty Years."’ And after ſome other ſprightly Sallies, which, though they made my Father laugh, made me tremble, he clapped him upon the Shoulder, ‘"If you have a Mind your Boy ſhould make a Figure in Life, old Gentleman, (ſays he) put him Clerk to me: My Lord Chancellor King was no better than the Son of a Country Shop keeper; and my Maſter gave a Perſon of much greater Eminence many a Half-crown, when he was an [220] Attorney's Clerk in the next Chambers to mine. What ſay you? Shall I take him up with me or no?"’ My Father, who had liſtened to this Propoſal with great Eagerneſs, as ſoon as my Couſin had done ſpeaking, cried, ‘"A Match;"’ and immediately gave him his Hand in Token of his Conſent. Thus the Bargain was ſtruck, and my Fate determined before my Tutor came back.

IT was in vain that he afterwards objected to the Character of my new Maſter, and expreſſed the moſt dreadful Apprehenſions at my becoming an Attorney's Clerk, and entering into the Society of Wretches who had been repreſented to him, and perhaps not unjuſtly, as the moſt Profligate upon Earth: They do not, indeed, become worſe than others, merely as Clerks; but as Perſons who, with more Money to ſpend in the Gratification of Appetite, are ſooner than others abandoned to their own Conduct: For, though they are taken from under the Protection of a Parent, yet, being ſcarce conſidered as in a State of Servitude, they are not ſufficiently reſtrained by the Authority of a Maſter.

[221] MY Father had conceived of my Couſin as the beſt natured Man in the World, and, probably, was intoxicated with the Romantic Hope of living to ſee me upon the Bench in Weſtminſter-Hall, or of meeting me upon the Circuit, lolling in my own Coach, and attended by a Crowd of the inferior Inſtruments of Juſtice. He was not therefore to be moved, either by Expoſtulation or Intreaty; and I ſet out with my Couſin on Horſeback, to meet the Stage at a Town within a few Miles, after having taken Leave of my Father, with a Tenderneſs that melted us both; and received from the hoary Saint his laſt Inſtructions and Benediction, and at length the parting Embrace, which was given with the ſilent Ardour of unutterable Wiſhes, and repeated with Tears that could no longer be ſuppreſſed or concealed.

WHEN we were ſeated in the Coach, my Couſin began to make himſelf merry with the Regret and Diſcontent that he perceived in my Countenance, at leaving a Cow-houſe, a Hog-ſtye, and two old Grey-pates, who were contending whether I ſhould be buried in a Farm or a College. I, who had never heard either my Father [222] or my Tutor treated with Irreverence, could not conceal my Diſpleaſure and my Reſentment: But he ſtill continued to rally my Country Simplicity with many Alluſions, which I did not then underſtand, but which greatly delighted the reſt of the Company. The fourth Day brought us to our Journey's End; and my Maſter, as ſoon as we reached his Chambers, ſhook me by the Hand, and bid me welcome to the Temple.

HE had been ſome Years a Widower, and his only Child, a Daughter, being ſtill at a Boarding-ſchool, his Family conſiſted only of a Man and Maid Servant, and myſelf; for, though he had two hired Clerks, yet they lodged and boarded themſelves. The horrid Lewdneſs and Profaneneſs of theſe Fellows terrified and diſguſted me; nor could I believe that my Maſter's Property and Intereſt could be ſafely intruſted with Men who, in every Reſpect, appeared to be ſo deſtitute of Virtue and Religion: I therefore thought it my Duty to appriſe him of his Danger; and accordingly one Day, when we were at Dinner, I communicated my Suſpicion, and the Reaſon upon which it was founded. The formal Solemnity with which I introduced this Converſation, and the Air of [223] importance which I gave to my Diſcovery, threw him into a violent Fit of Laughter, which ſtruck me dumb with Confuſion and Aſtoniſhment. As ſoon as he recovered himſelf, he told me, that though his Clerks might uſe ſome Expreſſions that I had not been accuſtomed to hear, yet he believed them to be very honeſt; and that he placed more Confidence in them, than he would in a formal Prig, of whom he knew nothing but that he went every Morning and Evening to Prayers, and ſaid Grace before and after Meat; that, as to ſwearing, they meant no Harm; and, as he did not doubt but that every young Fellow liked a Girl, it was better they ſhould joke about it than be hypocritical and ſly: not that he would be thought to ſuſpect my Integrity, or to blame me for Practices which he knew to be merely Effects of the Bigotry and Superſtition, in which I had been educated, and not the Diſguiſes of Cunning, or the Subterfuges of Guilt.

I WAS greatly mortified at my Couſin's Behaviour on this Occaſion, and wondered from what Cauſe it could proceed, and why he ſhould ſo lightly paſs over thoſe [224] Vices in others, from which he abſtained himſelf; for I had never heard him ſwear; and as his Expreſſions were not obſcene, I imagined his Converſation was chaſte; in which, however, my Ignorance deceived me, and it was not long before I had Reaſon to change my Opinion of his Character.

THERE came one Morning to enquire for him at his Chambers, a Lady, who had ſomething in her Manner which caught my Attention, and excited my Curioſity: Her Cloaths were fine, but the Manner in which they were put on, was rather flaunting than elegant; her Addreſs was not eaſy nor polite, but ſeemed to be a ſtrange Mixture of affected State and licentious Familiarity: She looked in the Glaſs while ſhe was ſpeaking to me, and without any Confuſion adjuſted her Tucker; ſhe ſeemed rather pleaſed than diſconcerted, at being regarded with Earneſtneſs; and being told, that my Couſin was abroad, ſhe aſked ſome trifling Queſtions, and then making a light Curtſey, took up the Side of her Hoop with a Jerk, that diſcovered at leaſt half her Leg, and hurried down Stairs.

[225] I COULD not help enquiring of the Clerks, if they knew this Lady; and was greatly confounded when they told me, with an Air of Secrecy, that ſhe was my Couſin's Miſtreſs, whom he had kept almoſt two Years in Lodgings near Covent-Garden. At firſt I ſuſpected this Information; but it was ſoon confirmed by ſo many Circumſtances, that I could no longer doubt of its Truth.

AS my Principles were yet untainted, and the Influence of my Education was ſtill ſtrong, I regarded my Couſin's Sentiments as impious and deteſtable; and his Example rather ſtruck me with Horror, than ſeduced me to Imitation. I flattered myſelf with Hopes of effecting his Reformation, and took every Opportunity to hint the Wickedneſs of allowed Incontinence; for which I was always rallied when he was diſpoſed to be merry, and anſwered with the contemptuous Sneer of Self-ſufficiency, when he was ſullen.

NEAR four Years of my Clerkſhip were now expired, and I had never yet entered the Liſts as a Diſputant with my Couſin: For tho' I conceived myſelf to be much [226] his Superior in Moral and Theological Learning; and though he often admitted me to familiar Converſation, yet I ſtill regarded the Subordination of a Servant to a Maſter, as one of the Duties of my Station, and preſerved it with ſuch exactneſs, that I never exceeded a Queſtion or a Hint, when we were alone, and was always ſilent when he had Company; tho' I frequently heard ſuch Proſitions advanced, as made me wonder that no tremendous Token of the Divine Diſpleaſure immediately followed: But coming one Night from the Tavern, warm with Wine, and, as I imagined, fluſhed with Polemic Succeſs, he inſiſted upon my taking one Glaſs with him before he went to Bed; and almoſt as ſoon as we were ſeated, he gave me a formal Challenge, by denying all DIVINE REVELATION, and defying me to prove it.

I NOW conſidered every Diſtinction as thrown down, and ſtood forth as the Champion of Religion, with that Elation of Mind which the Hero always feels at the Approach of Danger. I thought myſelf ſecure of Victory; and rejoicing that he had now compelled me to do what I had often wiſhed he would permit, I obliged [227] him to declare that he would diſpute upon equal Terms, and we began the Debate. But it was not long before I was aſtoniſhed to find myſelf confounded by a Man, whom I ſaw half drunk, and whoſe Learning and Abilities I deſpiſed when he was ſober; for as I had but very lately diſcovered, that any of the Principles of Religion, from the Immortality of the Soul to the deepeſt Myſtery, had been ſo much as queſtioned, all his Objections were new. I was aſſaulted where I had made no Preparation for Defence; and having not been ſo much accuſtomed to Diſputation, as to conſider, that in the preſent Weakneſs of Human Intellects, it is much eaſier to object than to anſwer, and that in every Diſquiſition, Difficulties are found which cannot be reſolved, I was overborne by the ſudden Onſet, and in the Tumult of my Search after Anſwers to his Cavils, forgot to preſs the poſitive Arguments on which Religion is eſtabliſhed: He took Advantage of my Confuſion, proclaimed his own Triumph, and, becauſe I was depreſſed, treated me as vanquiſhed.

As the Event which had thus mortified my Pride, was perpetually revolved in my Mind, the ſame Miſtake ſtill continued: [228] I enquired for Solutions inſtead of Proofs, and found myſelf more and more entangled in the Snares of Sophiſtry. In ſome other Converſations which my Couſin was now eager to begin, new Difficulties were ſtarted, the Labyrinth of Doubt grew more intricate, and as the Queſtion was of infinite Moment, my Mind was brought into the moſt diſtreſsful Anxiety. I ruminated inceſſantly on the Subjects of our Debate, ſometimes chiding myſelf for my Doubts, and ſometimes applauding the Courage and Freedom of my Enquiry.

WHILE my Mind was in this State, I heard by Accident that there was a Club at an Alehouſe in the Neighbourhood, where ſuch Subjects were freely debated, to which every Body was admitted without Scruple or Formality: To this Club in an evil Hour I reſolved to go, that I might learn how knotty Points were to be diſcuſſed, and Truth diſtinguiſhed from Error.

ACCORDINGLY, on the next Club-Night, I mingled with the Multitude that was aſſembled in this School of Folly and Infidelity: I was at firſt diſguſted at the groſs Ignorance of ſome, and ſhocked at [229] the horrid Blaſphemy of others; but Curioſity prevailed, and my Senſibility by Degrees wore off. I found that almoſt every Speaker had a different Opinion, which ſome of them ſupported by Arguments, that to me, who was utterly unacquainted with Diſputation, appeared to hold oppoſite Probabilities in exact Equipoiſe; ſo that, inſtead of being confirmed in any Principle, I was diveſted of all; the Perplexity of my Mind was increaſed, and I contracted ſuch a Habit of queſtioning whatever offered to my Imagination, that I almoſt doubted of my own Exiſtence.

IN Proportion as I was leſs aſſured in my Principles, I was leſs circumſpect in my Conduct: But ſuch was ſtill the Force of Education, that any groſs Violence offered to that which I had held ſacred, and every Act which I had been uſed to regard as incurring the Forfeiture of the DIVINE FAVOUR, ſtung me with Remorſe. I was, indeed, ſtill reſtrained from flagitious Immorality, by the Power of Habit: But this Power grew weaker and weaker, and the natural Propenſity to Ill gradually took Place, as the Motion that is communicated to a Ball which is ſtruck up into the Air, becomes every [230] Moment leſs and leſs, 'till at Length it recoils by its own Weight.

FEAR and Hope, the great Springs of Human Action, had now loſt their principal Objects, as I doubted whether the Enjoyment of the preſent Moment was not all that I could ſecure; my Power to reſiſt Temptation diminiſhed with my Dependance upon the GRACE OF GOD, and Regard to the Sanction of his Law; and I was firſt ſeduced by a Proſtitute, in my Return from a Declamation on the BEAUTY of Virtue, and the Strength of the MORAL SENSE.

I BEGAN now to give myſelf up intirely to Senſuality, and the Gratification of Appetite terminated my Proſpects of Felicity. That Peace of Mind, which is the Sunſhine of the Soul, was exchanged for the Gloom of Doubt, and the Storm of Paſſion; and my Confidence in GOD, and Hope of everlaſting Joy, for ſudden Terrors and vain Wiſhes, the Loathings of Satiety, and the Anguiſh of Diſappointment.

I WAS, indeed, impatient under this Fluctuation of Opinion, and therefore I [231] applied to a Gentleman, who was a principal Speaker at the Club, and deemed a profound Philoſopher, to aſſiſt the Labours of my own Mind in the Inveſtigation of Truth, and relieve me from Diſtraction by removing my Doubts: But this Gentleman, inſtead of adminiſtring Relief, lamented the Prejudice of Education, which he ſaid hindered me from yielding without Reſerve to the Force of Truth, and might perhaps always keep my mind anxious, though my Judgment ſhould be convinced. But as the moſt effectual Remedy for this deplorable Evil, he recommended to me the Works of CHUBB, MORGAN, and many others, which I procured and read with great Eagerneſs; and though I was not at laſt a ſound Deiſt, yet I perceived with ſome Pleaſure, that my Stock of Polemic Knowledge was greatly increaſed; ſo that, inſtead of being an Auditor, I commenced a Speaker at the Club: And though to ſtand up and babble to a Crowd at an Alehouſe, 'till Silence is commanded by the Stroke of a Hammer, is as low an Ambition as can taint the human Mind; yet I was much elevated by my new Diſtinction, and pleaſed with the Deference that was paid to my Judgment. I ſometimes, indeed, reflected, that I was propagating [232] Opinions, by which I had myſelf become vicious and wretched: But it immediately occurred, that though my Conduct was changed, it could not be proved that my Virtue was leſs, becauſe many Things which I avoided as vicious upon my old Principles, were innocent upon my new. I therefore went on in my Career, and was perpetually racking my Invention for new Topics and Illuſtrations; and among other Expedients, as well to advance my reputation, as to quiet my Conſcience, and deliver me from the Torment of Remorſe, I thought of the following.

HAVING learned that all Error is innocent, becauſe it is involuntary, I concluded that nothing more was neceſſary to quiet the Mind, than to prove that all Vice was Error: I therefore formed the following Argument: ‘"No Man becomes vicious, but from a Belief that Vice will confer Happineſs: He may, indeed, have been told the contrary; but implicit Faith is not required of reaſonable Beings: Therefore, as every Man ought to ſeek Happineſs, every Man may lawfully make the Experiment: If he is diſappointed, it is plain that he did not [233] intend that which has happened; ſo that every Vice is an Error, and therefore no Vice will be puniſhed."’

I COMMUNICATED this ingenious Contrivance to my Friend the Philoſopher, who, inſtead of detecting the Difference between Ignorance and Perverſeneſs, or ſtating the Limitations within which we are bound to ſeek our own Happineſs, applauded the Acuteneſs of my Penetration, and the Force of my Reaſoning. I was impatient to diſplay ſo novel and important a Diſcovery to the Club, and the Attention that it drew upon me, gratified my Ambition to the utmoſt of my Expectation. I had, indeed, ſome Opponents; but they were ſo little ſkilled in Argumentation, and ſo ignorant of the Subject, that it only rendered my Conqueſt more ſignal and important; for the Chairman ſummed up the Arguments on both Sides, with ſo exact and ſcrupulous an Impartiality, that as I appeared not to have been confuted, thoſe who could not diſcover the Weakneſs of my Antagoniſts, thought that to confute me was impoſſible; my Sophiſtry was taken for Demonſtration, and the Number of Proſelytes was incredible. The Aſſembly conſiſted chiefly of [234] Clerks and Apprentices, young Perſons who had received a religious, though not a liberal Education; for thoſe who were totally ignorant, or wholly abandoned, troubled not themſelves with ſuch Diſputations as were carried on at our Club: And theſe unhappy Boys, the Impetuoſity of whoſe Paſſions was reſtrained chiefly by Fear, as Virtue had not yet become a Habit, were glad to have the Shackles ſtruck off, which they were told Prieſtcraft had put on.

BUT however I might ſatisfy others, I was not yet ſatisfied myſelf; my Torment returned, and new Opiates became neceſſary: They were not, indeed, eaſily to be found; but ſuch was my good Fortune, that an illiterate Mechanic afforded me a moſt ſeaſonable Relief, ‘"by diſcuſſing the important Queſtion, and demonſtrating that the Soul was not, nor could be immortal."’ I was, indeed, diſpoſed to believe without the ſevereſt Scrutiny, what I now began ſecretly to wiſh; for ſuch was the State of my Mind, that I was willing to give up the Hope of everlaſting Happineſs, to be delivered from the Dread of perpetual Miſery; and as I thought of dying as a remote Event, the [235] Apprehenſion of loſing my Exiſtence with my Life, did not much interrupt the Pleaſures of the Bagnio and the Tavern.

THEY were, however, interrupted by another Cauſe; for I contracted a Diſtemper, which alarmed and terrified me, in Proportion as its Progreſs was ſwift, and its Conſequences were dreadful. In this Diſtreſs, I applied to a young Surgeon, who was a Speaker at the Club, and gained a genteel Subſiſtence by keeping it in Repair: He treated my Complaint as a Trifle; and to prevent any ſerious Reflections in this Interval of Pain and Solitude, he rallied the deplorable Length of my Countenance, and exhorted me to behave like a Man.

MY Pride, rather than my Fear, made me very ſolicitous to conceal this Diſorder from my Couſin; but he ſoon diſcovered it rather with Pleaſure than Anger, as it compleated his Triumph, and afforded him a new Subject of Raillery and Merriment. By the Spiritual and Corporeal Aſſiſtance of my Surgeon, I was at Length reſtored to my Health, with the ſame diſſolute Morals, and a Reſolution to purſue [236] my pleaſures with more Caution: Inſtead, therefore, of hiring a Proſtitute, I now endeavoured to ſeduce the Virgin, and corrupt the Wife.

IN theſe Attempts my new Principles afforded me great Aſſiſtance: For I found that thoſe whom I could convert, I could eaſily debauch; and that to convert many, nothing more was neceſſary than to advance my Principles, and allege ſomething in Defence of them, by which I appeared to be convinced myſelf; for not being able to diſpute, they thought that the Argument which had convinced me, would, if they could underſtand it, convince them: So that, by yielding an implicit Aſſent, they at once paid a Compliment to their own Judgment, and ſmoothed the Way to the Indulgence of Appetite.

WHILE I was thus gratifying every inordinate Deſire, and paſſing from one Degree of Guilt to another, my Couſin determined to take his Daughter, who was now in her nineteenth Year, from School; and as he intended to make her Miſtreſs of his Family, he quitted his Chambers, and took a Houſe.

[237] THIS young Lady I had frequently ſeen, and always admired; ſhe was therefore no ſooner come home, than I endeavoured to recommend myſelf by a thouſand Aſſiduities, and rejoiced in the many Opportunities that were afforded me to entertain her alone, and perceived that ſhe was not diſpleaſed with my Company, nor inſenſible to my Complaiſance.

MY Couſin, though he had ſeen the Effects of his Documents of Infidelity in the Corruption of my Morals, yet could not forbear to ſneer at Religion in the Preſence of his Daughter; a Practice in which I now always concurred, as it facilitated the Execution of a Deſign that I had formed of rendering her ſubſervient to my Pleaſures. I might, indeed, have married her, and, perhaps, my Couſin ſecretly intended that I ſhould: But I knew Women too well to think that Marriage would confine my Wiſhes to a ſingle Object; and I was utterly averſe to a State in which the Pleaſure of Variety muſt be ſacrificed to domeſtic Quiet, or domeſtic Quiet to the Pleaſure of Variety; for I neither imagined that I could long indulge myſelf in an unlawful Familiarity [238] with many Women, before it would by ſome Accident be diſcovered to my Wife; nor that ſhe would be ſo very courteous or philoſophical, as to ſuffer this Indulgence without Expoſtulation and Clamour; and beſides, I had no Liking to a Brood of Children, whoſe Wants would ſoon become importunate, and whoſe Claim to my Induſtry and Frugality, would be univerſally acknowledged; though the Offſpring of a Miſtreſs might be abandoned to Beggary, without Breach of the Law, or Offence to Society.

THE young Lady, on the contrary, as ſhe perceived that my Addreſſes exceeded common Civilities, did not queſtion but that my View was to obtain her for a Wife; and I could diſcern that ſhe often expected ſuch a Declaration, and ſeemed diſappointed that I had not yet propoſed an Application to her Father: But imagining, I ſuppoſe, that theſe Circumſtances were only delayed 'till the fitteſt Opportunity, ſhe did not ſcruple to admit all the Freedoms that were conſiſtent with Modeſty; and I drew every Day nearer to the Accompliſhment of my Deſign by inſenſible Approaches, without alarming her Fear, or confirming her Hopes.

[239] I KNEW that only two Things were neceſſary; her Paſſions were to be inflam'd, and the Motives from which they were to be ſuppreſſed, removed. I was therefore perpetually inſinuating, that nothing which was natural, could be ill; I complained of the Impoſitions and Reſtraints of Prieſtcraft and Superſtition; and, as if theſe Hints were caſual and accidental, I would immediately afterwards ſing a tender Song, repeat ſome ſeducing Verſes, or read a Novel.

BUT, henceforward, let never inſulted Beauty admit a ſecond Time into her Preſence the Wretch, who has once attempted to ridicule Religion, and ſubſtitute other Aids to human Frailty, for that ‘"Love of GOD which is better than Life,"’ and that Fear ‘"which is the Beginning of Wiſdom:"’ For whoever makes ſuch an Attempt, intends to betray; the contrary Conduct being without Queſtion the Intereſt of every one whoſe Intentions are good, becauſe even thoſe who profanely deny Religion to be of DIVINE Origin, do yet acknowledge that it is a Political Inſtitution, well calculated to ſtrengthen the Band of Society, and to [240] keep out the Ravager, by intrenching Innocence and arming Virtue. To oppoſe theſe Corrupters by Argument rather than Contempt, is to parley with a Murderer, who may be excluded by ſhutting a Door.

MY Couſin's Daughter uſed frequently to diſpute with me, and theſe Diſputes always favoured the Execution of my Project: Though, leſt I ſhould alarm her too much, I often affected to appear half in Jeſt; and when I ventured to take any Liberty, by which the Bounds of Modeſty were ſomewhat invaded, I ſuddenly deſiſted with an Air of eaſy Negligence; and as the Attempt was not purſued, and nothing farther ſeemed to be intended than was done, it was regarded but as Waggery, and puniſhed only with a Slap or a Frown. Thus ſhe became familiar with Infidelity and Indecency by Degrees.

I ONCE ſubtily engaged her in a Debate, whether the Gratification of natural Appetites was in itſelf innocent, and whether, if ſo, the Want of external Ceremony could in any Caſe render it criminal. I inſiſted that Virtue and Vice were not influenced by external Ceremonies, nor founded upon human Laws, which were [241] arbitrary, temporary, and local: And that as a young Lady's ſhutting herſelf up in a Nunnery, was ſtill evil, though enjoined by ſuch Laws; ſo the tranſmitting her Beauty to Poſterity was ſtill good, though under certain Circumſtances it had by ſuch Laws been forbidden. This ſhe affected utterly to deny, and I propoſed that the Queſtion ſhould be referred to her Papa, without informing him of our Debate, and that it ſhould be determined by his Opinion; a Propoſal to which ſhe readily agreed. I immediately adverted to other Subjects, as if I had no Intereſt in the Iſſue of the Debate; but I could perceive that it ſunk deeply into her Mind, and that ſhe continued more thoughtful than uſual.

I DID not fail, however, to introduce a ſuitable Topic of Diſcourſe the next Time my Couſin was preſent, and having ſtated the Queſtion in general Terms, he gave it in my Favour, without ſuſpecting that he was Judge in his own Cauſe; and the next Time I was alone with his Daughter, without mentioning his Deciſion, I renewed my Familiarity; I found her Reſiſtance leſs reſolute, purſued my Advantage, and compleated her Ruin.

[242] WITHIN a few Months ſhe perceived that ſhe was with Child; a Circumſtance that ſhe communicated to me with Expreſſions of the moſt piercing Diſtreſs: But inſtead of conſenting to marry her, to which ſhe had often urged me with all the little Arts of Perſuaſion that ſhe could practice, I made Light of the Affair, chid her for being ſo much alarmed for ſo trivial an Accident, and propoſed a Medicine which I told her would effectually prevent the Diſcovery of our Intercourſe, by deſtroying the Effect of it before it could appear. At this Propoſition ſhe fainted, and when ſhe recovered, oppoſed it with Terror and Regret, with Tears, Trembling and Intreaty: But I continued inflexible, and at Length either removed or over-ruled her Scruples, by the ſame Arguments that had firſt ſeduced her to Guilt.

THE long Vacation was now commenced, and my Clerkſhip was juſt expired: I therefore propoſed to my Couſin, that we ſhould all make a Viſit to my Father, hoping that the Fatigue of the Journey would favour my Purpoſe, by increaſing the Effect of the Medicine, and accounting for an Indiſpoſition which it might be ſuppoſed to cauſe.

[243] THE Plan being thus concerted, and my Couſin's Concurrence being obtained, it was immediately put in Execution. I applied to my old Friend the Club Surgeon, to whom I made no Secret of ſuch Affairs, and he immediately furniſhed me with Medicaments, which he aſſured me would anſwer my Purpoſe; but either by a Miſtake in the Preparation, or in the Quantity, they produced a Diſorder, which, ſoon after the dear injured unhappy Girl arrived at her Journey's End, terminated in her Death.

MY Confuſion and Remorſe at this Event, are not to be expreſſed: but Confuſion and Remorſe were ſuddenly changed into Aſtoniſhment and Terror; for ſhe was ſcarce dead before I was taken into Cuſtody, upon Suſpicion of Murder. Her Father had depoſed, that juſt before ſhe died, ſhe deſired to ſpeak with him in private; and that then, taking his Hand, and intreating his Forgiveneſs, ſhe told him that ſhe was with Child by me, and that I had poiſoned her, under Pretence of preſerving her Reputation.

[244] WHETHER ſhe made this Declaration, or only confeſſed the Truth, and her Father, to revenge the Injury, had forged the reſt, cannot now be known; but the Coroner having been ſummoned, the Body viewed, and found to have been pregnant, with many Marks of a violent and uncommon Diſorder, a Verdict of Wilful Murder was brought in againſt me, and I was committed to the County Gaol.

AS the Judges were then upon the Circuit, I was within leſs than a Fortnight convicted and condemned by the Zeal of the Jury, whoſe Paſſions had been ſo greatly inflamed by the Enormity of the Crime with which I had been charged, that they were rather willing that I ſhould ſuffer being innocent, than that I ſhould eſcape being guilty; but it appearing to the Judge, in the Courſe of the Trial, that Murder was not intended, he reprieved me before he left the Town.

I MIGHT now have redeemed the Time, and, awakened to a Senſe of my Folly and my Guilt, might have made ſome Reparation to Mankind for the Injury which I had [245] done to Society; and endeavoured to rekindle ſome Spark of Hope in my own Breaſt, by Repentance and Devotion. But, alas! in the firſt Tranſports of my Mind, upon ſo ſudden and unexpected a Calamity, the Fear of Death yielded to the Fear of Infamy, and I ſwallowed Poiſon: The Exceſs of my Deſperation hindered its immediate Effect; for, as I took too much, great Part of it was thrown up, and only ſuch a Quantity remained behind, as was ſufficient to inſure my Deſtruction, and yet leave me Time to contemplate the Horrors of the Gulph into which I am ſinking.

IN this deplorable Situation I have been viſited by the Surgeon, who was the immediate Inſtrument of my Misfortune, and the Philoſopher who directed my Studies: But theſe are Friends who only rouze me to keener Senſibility, and inflict upon me more exquiſite Torment. They reproach me with Folly, and upbraid me with Cowardice; they tell me too, that the Fear of Death has made me regret the Errors of Superſtition; but what would I now give for thoſe erroneous Hopes, and that credulous Simplicity, which, though I have been taught to deſpiſe them, would [246] ſuſtain me in the tremendous Hour that approaches, and avert from my laſt Agony the Horrors of Deſpair.

I HAVE, indeed, a Viſiter of another Kind, the good old Man who firſt taught me to frame a Prayer, and firſt animated me with the Hope of Heaven; but he can only lament with me, that this Hope will not return, and that I can pray with Confidence no more: He cannot, by a ſudden Miracle, re-eſtabliſh the Principles which I have ſubverted. My Mind is all Doubt, and Terror, and Confuſion; I know nothing but that I have rendered ineffectual the Clemency of my JUDGE, that the Approach of Death is ſwift and inevitable, and that either the Shades of Everlaſting Night, or the Gleams of unquenchable Fire are at Hand. My Soul, in vain, ſhrinks backwards: I grow giddy with the Thought: The next Moment is Diſtraction! Farewell.

OPSINOUS.
FINIS.

Appendix A Lately publiſh'd, Printed for H. PAYNE, at Dryden's Head in Pater-noſter Row.

[]
  • 1. A New Tranſlation of the Three Books of Thomas à Kempis, OF THE IMITATION OF CHRIST; and the Book of the Sacrament. With a Preface on the Ground and Nature of Chriſtian Redemption. In one Volume Octavo, Price 3 s. 6 d. ſew'd.
  • 2. Evangelical Diſcourſes. In one Volume Octavo, Price 2 s. 6 d. ſew'd.
  • 3. A Letter occaſioned by "The Lord Biſhop of Glouceſter's Doctrine of Grace:" Containing, A Defence of the Writing and Character of the late Reverend Mr. William Law, and of the Office and Operations of The HOLY SPIRIT. In one Volume Octavo, Price 3 s. ſew'd.

    By JOHN PAYNE.

    Theſe three Pieces may be had together in two Volumes, Price 8 s. ſew'd.

    *⁎* A few Copies are printed on fine Paper, and may be had of the Author, at the Herald's-Office, or at the Bank, Price 10 s. ſew'd in Marble Paper.

  • [] 4. NEW TABLES of INTEREST: Deſigned to anſwer, in the eaſieſt and moſt expeditious Manner, the common Purpoſes of Buſineſs, particularly the Buſineſs of the PUBLIC FUNDS. By the Author of the above Tracts.
  • 5. A new Edition of The TATLER: or, Lucubrations of Iſaac Bickerſtaff, Eſq with a Frontiſpiece to each Volume; deſigned by Hayman, and engrav'd by Grignion.
Notes
*
The great Snow here alluded to happened in 1674, and continued without Intermiſſion eleven Days. Great Damages were occaſioned thereby, Huts and little Houſes were intirely covered, the Current of our Rivers was ſtopped, and Multitudes of People miſerably periſhed.
*
That very popular Gentleman, the candid, the ingenious, and ingenuous Mr. R—M—NE.
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TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4959 The history of the Robinhood Society In which the origin of that illustrious body of men is traced the method of managing their debates is shewn and some original speeches are recorded. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-6115-F