Chapter II: Part 2

_~Religion!~ Now a meer fantastick Name,
The ~Heathens~ Glory, but the ~Christians~ Shame;
A Cloak for ~Hyprocites~, the Tool of State,
And, to decoy dull Fools, the ~Levites Bait~;
Thy ~Lustre~ was not tarnish’d in the Time
When ~Vice~ was ill, and ~Virtue~ was no Crime?
When holy Folks from ~Sin~ for Refuge fled,
And no ~Dissention~ in Opinions bred.
In the first ~Infancy~ of humane Race,
The World was overshadowed with ~Grace~;
The very Light of Nature ~Goodness~ taught,
And humble Vot’ries to the ~Altar brought~;
Where ~Hecatombs~, no longer doom’d to live,
Sincere ~Devotion~ did to Heaven give.
Again, the ~Jews~ were not so very blind,
But they in ~Rites~ and ~Types cou’d Blessings find~;
~Mosaic~ Customs, and ~Levitic Rules~,
Was all the Doctrine of the ~Rabbins~ Schools:
In mystic Rites, and ceremonial Laws,
With ~GOD~ and ~Angels~ they cou’d plead their Cause.
But now the ~Temple-Veil~ is drawn aside,
Which did the Truth in ~Hieroglyphicks hide~,
The great ~Messiah~, by a wond’rous Birth,
From ~Heaven~ came, to preach to Men on Earth;
Whose sacred ~Sermons~ shew’d the certain Way,
How all the World ~JEHOVAH~ must obey:
And by his ~seamless Garment~ we may see,
One only ~Faith~ does please the ~Deity~.
So ~Toleration~’s but ~a Wile, to draw
Dissenters~ from the ~Gospel~ and the ~Law~;
But none by such ~Indulgence~ will be shamm’d,
But ~Fools, that will in spite of Fate be d⸺’d~._

THE

Comical PILGRIM,

OR,

_Travels thro’ WALES_.

Having had a Suit of Law in Chancery, which was lost thro’ my Lawyers Mismanagement, at the Charge of twenty five Pounds out of Pocket, I could not forbear making the following Observations on the Unhappiness of those People who go to Law.

Some are so zealous to ruin one another, that _Westminster-Hall_ is every Term made the Place of Destruction. They fasten upon, worry and tear one another; and he that gets the better, generally pays so dear for his Victory that he had better have sat down by the Loss. Not that I would, with the _Socinians_, stretch that Command of our Saviour to his Disciples, to let the Coat go after the Cloak, and make it a Sin against the Gospel, for Christians to go to Law, any farther, than that they should not contend for Trifles. _Christianity_ lays no Body open to be abus’d, and impos’d upon, where a regular Remedy may be had. It forbids doing as we would not be done by, and obliges us to bearing and forbearing, rather than to be litigious; but takes away no Body’s Property, nor gives so much Countenance to Injustice, as to disarm the oppress’d from recovering their Right. Had going to Law been a Crime in itself, it had never been permitted to the _Jews_. They were allow’d it, and had Courts by divine Appointment erected for the Determination, of what belong’d to every Man. And it is too much for a few singular Dissenters upon a Text, to take upon themselves the putting a Bar to _Christian_ Liberty, which in all Ages has been admitted. Nor can we see here that these Precepts of the Sermon upon the Mount, be confin’d as some would have them, to the first Ages only: That what was legal in those Days, it is not the same now. It seems to be from too much Inclination to the World, such Expositions have been set up, that make a Difference in Times and Seasons, as if the Precepts of the Gospel were not always of the same Obligation; and we could excuse ourselves in the Contempt of them, because we are not the Persons they were immediately deliver’d to.

Tho’ the litigious Humour of some Men richly deserve a chargeable Remedy, there is yet a Commiseration due sometimes to their Antagonist. A Man may, whether he will or not, be engag’d in these bloody Conflicts at the Suit of his Neighbour’s Pride or Malice. And since the most peaceable Temper may be oblig’d to complain of Oppression, or answer the Charge of Picque and Revenge; ’tis Pity but Justice were to be obtain’d at a cheaper Rate, and a slight Wound may be cur’d without Amputation, which nothing but a Gangrene can justify. We could wish the Law were less chargeable; that seeking Right were not as bad as suffering Wrong: That the Avenues to Justice were not to be set with Robbers, that a Man must lose one Purse to recover another, and be stript into the Bargain. _Justice_ (we are told) should be blind, and so we think she is, when she can’t see the exorbitant Fees of her Attendants. When to be let in and let out, costs so much Oppression, nothing could have been severer. When the Man that’s summon’d to answer in a litigious Suit, must go thro’ so many Toils, and be so often spung’d in his Passage, he might as well have pass’d for Guilty, as pleaded Innocence: Like the Christians in _Turkey_, who pay double Taxes for their Religion, and hire infidel Moderation to connive at their Patriarch’s Jurisdiction. Why these Imposts were laid upon the Road to Justice, we never could understand. How that can be made out, we are much at a Loss. Which of the liberal Arts or Sciences thrives upon the Fees of Door-Keepers? Is copying and Abbreviation so essential a Point to Learning, a Nation could not have maintain’d a Character without it? Are so many Lines a Sheet, and so many Words in a Line, so Mathematical a Substraction of ones Money, that the Credit of the Nation must rise in Proportion to the Losses of the poor Meagre, wasted _Culprit_? We are told too ’tis upon a politick Account, to prevent Contention: That the more difficult is the Way to Justice, the more People are inclin’d to be quiet. If the Courts were open to every Grievance, there would be Complaints without End. A Hog could not go thro’ a Stone Yard, but the Law must be rais’d against the Trespasser. A Man could not be an Hour without a _Subpœna_ or Attachment, if there was Room for every Body’s Impertinence. ’Twould prevent Contention as effectually, if the Person in Fault were punish’d; if paying sufficient Cost to the Adversary or Fine, were inflicted by the Court upon a litigious Plaintiff, or roguish Defendant.

As the Cause stands, the Law is a Weapon for the Proud, and revengeful. These may be in the Right, at least have their Revenge, if their Purse be the longest. So chargeable have been the Methods of bringing Oppressors to Account, so expensive the Armour to defend the Innocent, that one may think the first Loss had been the best, and the other wish he had let the Coat go to him that had taken away the Cloak. There’s a Revolution indeed of Estates, and where the Law has broke one Family, it has rais’d another. If the Desolation the Law has made, were recorded, and the Ensigns of the Orphans and Widows were hung up, whose forlorn Relations have been press’d into the Service, there would be no Room for those brought from the _Danube_ and _Ramellies_. ’Tis true, much may be said in Favour of a mistaken Client, in Excuse of Ignorance, Passion, and the like: But where a Man engages in a Cause palpably litigious and unjust, he becomes a Party to the Injustice, and deserves at least equal Punishment with him he appears for. _Thou sawest a Thief, and consentedst unto him_, is chargeable upon the Pleader, as a Person concern’d. Should these Maintainers of Learning be mercenary, and like Sergeants at the _Compter_, gape at every Retainer? Should they have an Indulgence to cross-bite an Evidence, to abuse the Adversary, and rip up the Misfortunes of his Family, and belch a few Witticisms instead of Arguments? How shall the World maintain Reverence to their Opinion? How shall we take them for the Guides of Conscience, set aside the receiv’d Interpretation of the Law, and believe them when they say, _The Case is alter’d_? I shall say no more upon this Point, but only use these Words of our Saviour, _Woe unto you also, ye Lawyers: For ye lade Men with Burdens grievous to be born, and ye yourselves touch not the Burdens with one of your Fingers. Wo unto you Lawyers: For ye have taken away the Key of Knowledge: Ye enter’d not in yourselves, and they that were entring in, ye hindred._

Being quite surfeited with seeing the Legerdemain, or _hocus pocus_ Tricks of Madam _Astræa_, _alias_ Justice, the Day after _Trinity-Term_ being, drest with _Aurora_, nay before she had put on her _Indian_ Gown, I set out with the Sun in order to take a Pilgrimage into _Wales_, who bearing me Company but little while, withdrew into an Appartment behind a Cloud, at whose Absence, the Heavens frowning and contracting their Brows, did presently fall a crying, and wept such plentiful Showers of Tears that they moistned my Skin with the Deluge of their Grief. At the End of 8 or 9 Days, I reach’d _Wales_, which is the most monstrous Limb in the whole Body of Geography; for ’tis generally reported to be without a Middle, or if it hath a Navel, it is yet a _Terra incognita_; for I never could find that ever any Man dwelt there, the Natives confessing themselves only Borderers. Surely the Reason why they do so much affect the Circumference of their Country, and abominate the Centre, is, because they are asham’d of the Dominion; and indeed, ’tis a Sign they have but a little Kindness for their Nation, who (like unnatural Sons) run from their Mother their Country, and when out of her Embraces, never return again. A _Welshman_, when once abroad, hath no more Tendency Home, than a Stone an Inclination to fall upward: He will trot o’er the Globe, and rather endure the Affliction of any Exile, than the cruel Punishment of being banish’d Home; if he is once on this Side _Dee_, neither Hunger, nor Husks, nor any Kind of Hardship shall drive him on the other.

No sooner had I set my Feet upon _Welsh_ Turf, but in a little Time I found the Country was tuckt in on all Sides with the Sea, except on the East, on which Part it was ditch’d in from _England_ by that notable Delver, King _Offa_, King of the _Mercians_: Over this Dike, if any _Welshman_ chance to skip with his Sword by his Side, by King _Harold_’s Law, he was to lose a Branch of his Body, _i. e._ his right Arm was lopt off by the King’s Officers. Some think it had its Name from its Godfather _Idwallo_, Son to _Cadwallader_, who with a small Crew of _Britons_, at the Arrival of the _Saxons_, hid themselves in this Corner. Others suppose them to be the Spawn of the _Gauls_, from whom they seem to be but a few _Aps_ remov’d; _ap Galloys_, _ap Gauls_, _ap Wallois_, _ap Wales_.

As for the Inhabitants, they are a pretty Sort of Creatures, which when I saw, I was so far from stroaking them with the Palms of Love, that I was almost ready to buffet them with the Fist of Indignation. They are a rude People, and want much Instruction. Not one _Welshman_ is sharp, unless his Mother happens to pour Vinegar into his Ear, when young. When I consider the Soil from whence they sprang, and the Desarts, and Mountains wherein they wander, I cannot but think, that greater Pains should be taken in cultivating and manuring, in disciplining, and taming them, in Regard ’tis harder for a Bearward to teach Civility to the Beasts of _Africk_, than those who come from a more mannerly Country. I have been inform’d that they were dug from a Quarry, and that they dwell in a stony Land; so that if we compare this Kingdom to a Man, as some do _Italy_ to a Man’s Leg, they inhabit the very Testicles of the Nation. And I pray what are those but the vilest of Creatures that breed as well in the Privities of the greater _British_ World, as those that are hatcht in the _Pudenda_ of the lesser? But whether _Welshmen_ are the _Aborigines_ of their Country, as Crab-Lice are the _Autocthones_ of theirs, and proceed only (like them) from the Excrements of their Soil, I shall not here dispute. They are of a boorish Behaviour, of a savage Physiognomy; the Shabbiness of their Bodies, and the Baoticalness of their Souls, and that, which cannot any otherwise be exprest, the _Welchness_ of both, will fright a Man as fast from them, as the Odness of their Persons invites one to behold them. Some of them are such rude and indigested Lumps, so far from being Men, that they can scarce be advanc’d into living Creatures; nay they are such unmanageable Materials, that they can scarce be hewn into the Shape of Blocks; much Labour and Art is requir’d therefore to make them Statues.

The whole Nation (like a _German_ Family) is of one Quality; for as every Lord’s Son is a Lord in _Germany_, so every one is crown’d with the Title of Gentleman here; so that hur Country is a good Pasture for an Herald to bite in. In their Travels they care not much that their Horses should drink with a Toast, as appears by the which a _Shinkin_ discover’d, whom his quaffing Beast had pitch-pol’d into a River. Udsplutter-a-nails quoth he in great Fury, what cannot hur drink without a Toast? He took it much in dudgeon, that the Jade should be so bold as to make a Sop of his Master.

The Materials of his Apparel are usually a well shagg’d Freeze, so that we cannot call it sleepy, being fleec’d with a Nap like any Sheep-Skin: It affords excellent Harbour to the Vermin of his Body, which whether it be stockt with Store of Joicements of them, he commonly signifies by the Symbol of a Shrug. The Perfection of a _Welshman_’s Equipage, the Cream (as it were) of his Accoutrements, and that which compleats ever his most festival Attire, is (as the Story goes) an old Sword of hur nown breeding, which hur hath brought up from a Tagger: And this he can brandish with much Valour against the tremenduous on-set of dragooning Bees; a kind of Enemy which the Taffy is much afraid of, in Regard he is always arm’d with a Pike in’s Reer, which once upon a Time fastening in his Forehead, broach’d such a Pore in his Physiognomy, that he could never endure those hum-buzzing Gentlemen (as he calls them) in yellow Doublets.

The Country is mountainous, and yields pretty Handsome clambering for Goats, and hath Variety of Precipice to break ones Neck; which a Man may sooner do than fill his Belly, the Soil being barren, and an excellent Place to breed a Famine in. It is reported of _Campania_, that it was the most noble Region in the World, the Air pleasant, the Soil fertil, the Theatre of _Bacchus_ and _Ceres_, where they were at fisty-cuffs for the Preheminence: But I perceiv’d no such Scuffle in _Wales_; for those Deities are so far from fighting there, that I could not discern they were so much as ever there; there being scarce Water and Oatmeal to give a Man Being. I could not expect _Egypt_ and the _Canaries_ Buts and Granaries to give me a well Being: There is no _Canaan_ to be found in a Desart. As for the Diet of a _Briton_, a good Mess of Flummery, and a Pair of Eggs, he rejoyces at, as a Feast, especially if he may close his Stomach with toasted Cheese, for a Morsel of which he hath a great Kindness. You may see him pictur’d sometimes with that Crevice in his Head call’d a Mouth, charg’d at both Corners with a Cresent of Cheese, and himself a Cock-Horse on a red Herring, and his Hat adorn’d with a Plume of Leeks: Good edible Equipage! Which when hunger pinches, he makes bold to nibble; he first eats his Cheese and his Leeks together, and for second Course he devours his Horse. But he never much cared for a Sop, since once upon a Time it drank up all his Drink, and would not club to pay his Shot.

The _Cambro-Britons_ are great Admirers of heroick Actions, and much Honour the Memory of famous Atchievements; insomuch, that rather than a dead-doing Man shall perish in Oblivion, they will eternize his Memory by the Monument of a Straw, or some such inconsiderable Trifle; as appears by the famous Example of that Saint of their Country, Bishop _David_, who being a pert Fighter, and having soundly basted and swadled their Foes, is at this Day consecrated to Posterity by the Trophy of a Leek; and smells as rank of Renown from that vegetable Preservative that embalms his Fame, as they do of a Scallion that carry it about for his Glory. Their Hats are set with this anniversary Badge, and Emblem of Honour and Triumph, on the first of _March_, which Day hath been christen’d by his Name, and being dubb’d an Holyday, hath worn yearly a black Livery in the Almanack.

Nevertheless, the _Welchmen_ being cursedly thick-scull’d, they are so far from being Plotters, that they swear they will never fight for any King upon Earth, but the Prince of _Wales_; because there can be no true Royal Blood running in the Veins of any great Man, but what borrows his Title from their Country, let him be born where he will: And considering what wicked plotting Times we now live in, no Body can blame them for their Cautiousness of being hang’d; for tho’ it is a Death natural to them, yet they say, sleeping in a whole Skin is best. Not that they value hanging, but only they abhor the Death, unless the Office is perform’d a by a _Welch_ Hangman, instead of an _English_ one.

They are much inclin’d to Choler, for hur _Welch_ Plood is soon mov’d, and then hur stamp and stare, and scrat hur Pole, and vent hur Fury in Ud-splutter-a-nails, and will fight for hur Life in Battle at fisty-cuffs. They are polite in nothing but Faction and Sedition, for there are high and low Church Parties among them too, which occasions much Contention and Quarrels.

The Musick a _Welchman_ plays upon, is a Tool stiled an Harp, with which, when Sustenance fails him, he strikes up for a Morsel, and so lives by Sounds, and (Camelion like) hath Alimony from Air. He serenades Victuals in every Village, as the pide Piper did Rats at _Hamel_, and he allures Luncheons after him, as much as the other did Vermin: Here a Nob of Bacon wags after him, for one Strain; and there a Crust follows him, as the Reward of another; one hits him in the Mouth with the Payment of Pottage, another pops him in the Pocket with the Gratuity of a Carrot; all which Variety of Fragments is the most ample Income, and wonderful Revenue of his Skill in Musick. His usual Admirers are Country Milk-Maids, whom Vibration of String doth move and stir into Jigg and Measure; and whom Breeze of Instrument (like those in Tail) do chase and tickle into Dance and Caper.

I could not perceive that the _Welch_ were guilty of much Learning, which made a Man skill’d in Orthography admir’d as a Sophy; and a Writer of his Name, to be term’d a Rabbi. As for the Loves of the _Britons_, the Intrigues of their Amours are not a little remarkable, they being very pretty Animals when disguis’d with that Passion: They are Tinder to such Flames, being quickly set on fire, even by the least Spark, which when it hath catch’d the Match of their Souls (for they have Brimstone in them as well as in their Bodies) they are presently kindled into Transport and Extasy; and these model them into the Shapes of a thousand Anticks, and make them shew more Tricks than old _Preston_’s Bears. Sometimes they are shaking the Globules of their Noddles, and sometimes dancing some Geometry with the Figures of their Feet; now they smite with Clapper of Fist their troubled Breasts, and anon sound out some Knels of dismal Groans; being variously affected as the Weather is in their _Clorinda_’s Faces; if Aspect be clear, then is _Taffy_ serene; if brow be cloudy, then is _Morgan_ Showry. Whilst I was in this Country, I heard of a _Welchman_ that went a wooing with a Gun upon his Shoulder, being resolv’d (it seems) if Love be a Warfare, not to enter unarm’d into the Camp of _Venus_; still as his coy _Daphne_ shifted from his Presence, he march’d musketeering about the Room, and most fiercely pursu’d her, till at last in the brisk Encounter of a close Embrace, this warlike Instrument took an Occasion somewhat unmannerly to go off, and blunderbuss’d the Mistress on her Breech on one Side of the House, and poor _Taffy_ on his Nose on the other; so that being much dismay’d at this unhappy Accident, one scrabled one Way, and the other another, to the utter spilling of a Mess of Love, and total Separation of a Pair of Lovers for ever.

They are pretty devout in their Worship, tho’ the Exercise of Religion is somewhat scarce, and have a pretty glowing Zeal, tho’ their Churches are few, and at a great Distance. ’Tis almost incredible how far they are fain to trudge for a little Homily; which when they have expected, have been mump’d with a Sermon ten Times worse. For on such raw-bone Livings, there cannot be expected very plump Parts. The ordinary Revenue of a spiritual Preferment may possibly be about five Marks _per Annum_; a Bay of Watling for a Dwelling, endow’d with no more Glebe than just what it stands upon, only perhaps it may be how-stall’d with as much Ground as may hold a Sty for the Pig, and a Roost for the Pullen. These divine Cottages are usually situated some Leagues from the Temple, so that the Holy Man with Crab-Tree Truncheon sets out with the Sun, and stretches his Legs with a good handsome Walk, before he arrives at the Pulpit to stretch his Lungs, and wears out much of his Soles before he can reach his Stall to mend their Souls, Their Houses of Prayer are generally thatcht Tabernacles, which are wainscoted towards the East with little Desks, like Pounds, where _Levite_ imprison’d for about half an Hour, fodders the poor _Taffies_ with some _melancholy_ Tear-fetching Story about a grim Fellow call’d Death, who ambles Folks on his Back into another World; a Thing which he heard from the oracular Gums of his edentulous old Granum, as she sate on the Settle in the Chimney-Corner. Some of the most reverend Rectors are dignify’d with a Stipend of six Pounds a Year, besides the Perquisities of a Drum and Fiddle; which well manag’d on a Holiday, make up a very pretty Thing. Others have an Augmentation of a Bull or a Bear, which being solemnly baited about twice in a Quarter, do pick pretty comfortable Tyth from the Spectators Pockets, and makes the poor Parson’s Purse to smile and mantle.

As far as I could perceive, the _Welch_ People love Holiday Fingers, and care not much for encumbring them with that Inconvenience call’d Work. They can (Shepherd like) loll upon a Crook pretty handsomely in the Field, and can discharge a Superintendency over the Goats. They are most accomplish’d Drovers, to which laudable Function they are so naturally prone, that they are apt to drive sometimes more than their own. They are much addicted to the Sin of Nastiness, wallowing in Filthiness like so many Swine; so that the whole Nation seems but a general Sty. The meaner Sort of Women are generally such draggle Tails, that the Cattle in their Bosoms are quag-mir’d in the Filth of their well-gleb’d Attire; so that the frisking Fleas are so far from _Levalto_’s, that I was verily persuaded they can scarce pull out _Proboscis_, and their Feet from the Bogs. The Tenements they live in are suitable to the Guests that possess them; for as these seem to be Dirt moulded into Men, so those are the same Matter kneaded into Houses; they are usually very humble Cottages, and low in Stature, so that a Man may ride upon the Ridge, and yet have his Legs hang in the Diet. I was not so vain as to expect very splendid Furniture in such contemptible Huts; but I soon perceiv’d what Utensils were most necessary, a Dish-Clout and a Besom, and such cleansing Implements are very proper to correct the Filthiness of their Mansions. I found no Apartments in these their Habitations, every Edifice being a _Noah_’s Ark, where a promiscuous Family, a miscellaneous Heap of all Kind of Creatures did converse together in one Room; the Pigs and the Pullen, and other Brutes either truckling under, or lying at the Bed’s-Feet of the little more refin’d, yet their Brother Animals.

But that which I admir’d most of all amongst them, was the Virginity of their Language, not deflowerd by the Mixture of any other Dialect. The Purity of the _Latin_ was debauch’d by the _Vandals_, and hunn’d into Corruption by that barbarous People; but the Sincerity of the _British_ Tongue remains inviolable. ’Tis a Tongue (it seems) not made for every Mouth, as appears by an _English_ Gentleman one Day in my Company, who having got a _Welsh_ Polysyllable into his Throat, was almost choak’d with Consonants, had I not, by clapping him on the Back, made him disgorge a Guttural or two, and so sav’d him. Whether the _Welsh_ Tongue be a Splinter of that universal one that was shatter’d at _Babel_, I have some Reason to doubt, in Regard ’tis unlike the Dialects that were crumbled there. However, ’tis now cashir’d out of Gentlemen’s Houses, there being scarcely to be heard even one single _Welsh_ Tone in many Families; for their Children are instructed in the _Anglican_ Idiom, and their Schools are pædagogu’d with Professors of the same; so that (if the Stars prove lucky) there may be some glimmering Hopes that the _British_ Tongue may be quite extinct, and may be _English’d_ out of _Wales_, as _Latin_ was barbarously _Goth’d_ out of _Italy_.

But in fine, being quite out of Conceit with the short Commons I met with in this Mountainous Country, which was much inferiour to the delicious Dainties of Water-Gruel, Bread and Butter, and Small Beer, allow’d to the poor Lunaticks of _Bedlam_, after they come to pig in Straw, and have their Heads shav’d as an Introduction to Phlebotomy, three or four Times a Week, I e’en bade adieu to the miserable _Taffies_, and made the best of my Way to _England_ again, to recover that Flesh in a plentiful Nation, which I had lost in a Land of meer Poverty and Famine.

THE

Comical _Pilgrim_’s Pilgrimage

INTO

SCOTLAND.

Being returned out of _Wales_ into _England_ again, I was no sooner got into _London_, but thro’ an avaricious Temper, I soon began to haunt most of the Gaming-Houses in Town, which Day and Night were as well cram’d as the Groom-Porter’s Table. In these Schools of inevitable Ruin and Destruction, I lost a great deal of Money, and when too late to recover it, I began seriously to reflect with myself, that let a Man be ever such a good Gamester at Cards or Dice, yet so many Sharpers were always flocking about him, that they would drain his Pockets in spite of all the greatest Favours of Fortune; or else how could these Gaming-Houses clear sometimes 100 Pounds, but never less than 50 or 60 Pounds a Night, besides paying Salaries to the several Officers depending solely on them? For there _Commissioners_ are maintain’d by whom the Weeks Accompt is Audited, _viz._ _Directors_, who Superintend the Room. _Operators_, or Dealers at Faro. _Croupees_, to watch the Cards, and gather the Money for the Bank. _Puffs_, who have Money given them to play, in order to decoy others. _Clerks_, who are Checks upon the Puffs, to see that they sink none of that Money. _Squibs_, who are Puffs of a lower Rank, having half their Salery; _Flashes_, who sit by to Swear how often they have stript the Bank; _Dunners_, or Waiters; _Attornies_, or Sollicitors; _Captains_, who are to Fight any Men that are Peevish, or out of Humour at the loss of their Money; _Porters_, who at most of the Gaming-Houses are Soldiers; _Ushers_, who take care that the Porters at the Door suffer none to come in but those they know; and _Runners_, to get Intelligence of all the Meetings of the Justices of the Peace, and when the Constables go upon the Search: Besides giving half a Guinea to any Link-Boy, Coach-man, Chairman, Drawer, or other Person, who gives Notice of the Constables being upon the Search.

Now to break myself from this bewitched Gaming, I bid adieu to Hazard, Backgammon, Tick-tack, l’Ombre, Picquet, Cribbidge, and Basset, and was resolved to take a Pilgrimage into _Scotland_, where I found the Inhabitants addicted to no sort of Game but _One and Thirty_, at which they are as dextrous as a Milk-Maid at Dancing on _May-Day_, with one Foot upon the Ground, and t’other never off; for from _Fergus_ their first King down to _Charles_ the First, whom they Sold for a Sacrifice to Stratocracy or Army Power, they had Murder’d no less than Thirty One of their Sovereigns, which is just the Game at Regicide: Hereupon to call them Traytors is a Favour, for they will hatch Treason as soon as they do _Chickens_ at _Grand-Cairo_, by the Adoption of an Oven; but now the _Scots_ are bound to their good Behaviour, by a Union, they ought to be as Circumspect in their Loyalty, as the Ambassador that Beds a Queen, with the nice Caution of a Sword between them.

It is said that _Scota_ the Daughter of _Pharaoh_ King of _Egypt_, who was Drown’d in the _Red-Sea_, gave Name to _Scotland_, when she went thither, and betwixt which People and the valiant _English_, a Quarrel continued longer than ever did any between any other two Nations in the World, for they have most obstinately contended (like _Rome_ and _Carthage_) for Empire above 2000 Years; which is the most tenacious Suit that ever depended between any two People in the Court of _Mars_. Since the _Norman_ Invasion, there have been 30 pitcht Battles betwixt us and them; of which the _English_ have obtain’d of the _Scots_ at least four for one, and those of greatest Consequence. The South Part of _Great-Britain_ being Champian, hath been sometimes in its Borders harrass’d, and laid wast by the _Scots_, never possess’d, but their Country, defended by inaccessible Hills, and by two invincible Enemies, Hunger and Cold, hath been wholly reduc’d by the _English_, who have Slain four _Scotch_ Kings, and took two Prisoners; whereas they have never Slain nor took Prisoner one _English_ King, to whom the Kings of _Scotland_ were Homagers for a long Time.

Those _Scots_, who dwell by the Sea, dung their Land with the Weeds which it casts on the Shore; and all Women throughout the Country in Writing use their Maiden Names after Marriage. About the High and Solitary Hills of _Genap_ I saw good Store of Magpyes and Goats; but few Hogs, to whose Flesh they bear as utter an Aversion as the _Jews_; and among all their Flocks of Sheep, where you’ll see one White, there’s ten Black, so that you may soon know a _Scotchman_ from a black Sheep. The farther I Travell’d, I observ’d Geese were not over plentiful; Parsnips very scarce; Venison not to be had for want of Deer; Boys Knitted, and Men, Women, and Children went bare-legg’d.

As for their Coyn, the most remarkable of their Coyning is a _Baubee_, which is the value of our Half-penny, bearing the royal Effigy on one side, and on the Reverse the Thistle and Crown, with this Motto, _Nemo me impune lacessit_. In the Kirk-Yard at _Girvan_ are several Carv’d Grave-stones; and at the Kirk-Door in this Town are fasten’d Jogs or Brad-Irons to Chains three or four Feet long; which are put round Persons Necks, who Swear, get Drunk, or break the Sabbath. Thus by countenancing Religion in allowing their Pastors to have an Authority over Misdemeanors, it is that the tumultuary _Scottish_ Institution has gain’d Ground, and insinuated itself into popular Credit and Esteem: For on every _Sunday_, when the Office of the Day is over, they have a Kirk-Sessions, wherein the Minister, with a Number of his Congregation Elected to that end, is Authoriz’d to meet and take Cognizance, and to punish all Offenders the foregoing Week. So some such Authority, and a few more insulting Priviledges, seem to be some of those _Desiderata_’s aim’d at by our pretended Reformers of Manners in _England_, to make up their Temporal Advantages, under a specious show of designing to restore the more Primitive and _Christian_ Discipline. But I hope this Age will never experience what it is to come under the Pharisaical Constitution of such pious Cheats. Nevertheless, since Knowledge without Virtue has abus’d the World with too much Impiety, I applaud that one Thing of the reforming Societies in _England_, in putting poor Children out to Trades; for of what Use is Learning (any farther than Reading and Writing) to ordinary Vocations? Whatsoever exceeds, is Useless, and makes them Pragmatical: Moreover, as it is not their Happiness to obtain Advantages of a more liberal or academical Education, it will much more commend the Goodness of their small Breeding, that they have learnt to speak Truth rather than _Latin_, which the Masters of our Parish Schools understand not; and that they are more knowing and exact in the Rules of Justice (a transcendent Quality unknown to some of their Benefactors) than the Distinction of Languages.

In my Journey not far from the Town of _Ayre_, many Sales are to be taken on the Sea-Coasts; but on the Land not many Pidgeons, nor great Store of wild Ducks: However, the Country is well stockt with other sort of Foul, as foul Plates, foul Dishes, foul Trenchers, foul Knives, foul Forks, foul Napkins, and by Heavens foul ever thing else, even to their very Women, who you’ll see standing on a _Saturday_ by a lolling Wash-block, which is a Wooden kind of Anvil, where the She-_Vulcans_ are hammering out with Battledore, or else with their Feet in a washing _Tub_, the Filth of Linnen, whose unctious Distillations are the _Nile_ that water’d the little _Egypt_ of their adjacent Gardens. Staring very earnestly with all the Eyes that I had, as if looking thro’ a Perspective Glass, I perceiv’d every _Scotchman_’s Face usually bubbled into Bubbles and Pustulees, besides the natural Hout-goust of Body that breath’d from Oatmeal, which made him send forth an Artificial Smell, which you might wind as far as the extream Unction of 20 _Romish_ Funerals, only the Scent is not so Sweet; besides the bonny _Scot_ smells as rankly of the single Stink of Brimstone, as a Goldfinder, _alias_, Tom-Turd-Man of a Medley; for a scurvey Disease, commonly call’d the Scrubbado, otherwise the Itch, makes frequently an Inroad into his Person, and invades his Body; so that he is forced to choak his Enemy by Stink of Sulphur. ’Tis a Creeping Distemper, whose Progress is checkt by Mortification, so that when he leaves off his Shirt, that is, when it leaves him, and can hang on no longer, it is excellent Furniture for a Tinder-Box, as virtually containing in it both Match and Tinder.

The common People wear Plads and Bonnets, which is a great Fashion in this Country, where the Postman goes a Foot; and poor Folks eat the Stalks of raw Kale. The Elders of the Kirks on _Saturday_ night duly haunt the Ale-houses, which they call Changes, to turn out People to prepare themselves for the _Sabbath_; and Women here ride astride, without any Danger. The Kirks or Places of Worship have all one Bell, rung by an Iron Chain; but put at either End of the House of Prayer, without any Distinction of East or West, so that Travellers must not look upon their diminutive Steeples for the Guide of a true Course to the Compass.

At the University of _Glascow_, which like their other poor Universities has but one College, I saw no other Learning but the insipid Collegians wearing red hanging-sleev’d Gowns; and the Cathedral here was built by one Mr. _Mongou_, I can’t call him Saint, because he was the Son of a Whore begot by a _Danish_ Prince on a _Scotch_ King’s Daughter. Because our main or chief Gallows in _England_, call’d _Tyburn_, hath three Beams, and which is famous for stocking the _Romish_ Calendar for roguish Saints, the _Scotch_ to exceed us will have four Beams on their hanging Places, made in the manner of a _Turn-Stile_; having on each Beam an Iron Hook, on which the Malefactor is to be expos’d in a pendent Posture betwixt Heaven and Earth, as being unworthy of either. The Men for the most part wear Stockings made of Plad-Stuff; and their Quarters are _Candlemas-Day_, _May-Day_, _Lammas-Day_, and _All-hallow Tide_, which are as welcome to their Landlords as our Quarter-Days are among us.

Bad Cooks are every where in this Nation, because they have seldom any Victuals to dress; and the Childrens Cradles here made of old Wainscot without Heads to them. The _Scots_ have several old Ways to distinguish themselves from _Christians_, for their Chimes always ring before the Clock strikes; instead of Candles they burn in most Places the Shavings of Fir dipt in Tallow; their Spoons are generally made of Horn quite circular or round, about 3 Inches Diameter, with the Length of the Handle suitable to its Circumference, which Largeness (I suppose) they take from the old Proverb, _He must have a long Spoon that eats with the Devil_; and those People that can but fill their Bellies with thin Bannock, Sourings, or Bruis, which last sort of Food is only raw Oatmeal put into Water when it’s warm, and thought by them a great deal better than to dine with Duke _Humphrey_. Hemp and Flax for Linnen are the Staple Commodities of this Nation; but the _Scots_ bear a mortal Hatred to the former, because by the Production thereof, a great many of ’em come to an untimely End.

When I came into the City of _Edinburgh_, which is the Capital of the Kingdom, I thought I was got into _West-Smithfield_, for such a Place for Nastiness was not to be found upon Earth, for as the latter was but fill’d with Beasts Dung, the other was more nasty than a common Jakes or Inns-of-Court House of Office, for having a Dung-Tub at the Head of every Pair of Stairs in their Houses, which are 14 or 15 low Stories high, they are emptied a-nights on Peoples Heads without any respect of Persons, so that till 8 or 9 o’ th’ Clock in the Morning, the whole City, which may be a Mile in Length, is scented with the excellent Perfume of _Scotch_ Civit Cats; and all the Woman here look as ugly as the _Four of Clubs_, which some call _Wibling_’s Witch, from one _James Wibling_, who in the Reign of King _James_ the First grew rich by private Gaming, and was commonly observ’d to have this Card in his Hand, so that he never lost a Game but when he mist it.

All the _Scots_ are generally as great Enemies to Gentility and nice Dressing, as _Diogenes_ the morose _Cynic_ was to _Plato_, because of his courtly Compliance with the World; and to be honest would be as great a Mortification to them as _Lent_ to a poor Player. They’ll sit as lovingly about Oaten Cakes and Butter, as a Parcel of Tarpaulins round a Platter of Burgue; and they love Hunger and Ease, as well as a Lawyer does _Term-Time_. Tho’ they hate the solemn Festival of _Christmas_, and other Holy-days, yet they pay some Veneration to St. _Andrew_; and will be as Drunk on the _30th_ of _November_, as any Shoemaker once a Year to the Remembrance of _Crispin_. They hold Fairs in many Places, at which is much Mobbing, Whoring and Drunkenness as at our _Shirking-Fair_ by _Tyburn_: And Mrs. _Cicilia_, they say, is no Saint, but a common Strumpet bred up at a Three-penny Hop in _London_. I never saw the Sign of the _Brats-Tumbler_ any where, which makes me believe every _Scotch_ Woman brings her Urchins into the World, without the Assistance of Madam _Grope_, to save Charges; on a _Sunday_ Morning the _Scots_ will run 4 or 5 Miles to a Conventicle; and in the Afternoon to the Mountains to louse themselves.

It is suppos’d by some, that _Scotland_ is the Land of _Nod_, to which _Cain_ was exil’d a Vagabond for the Murther of his Brother _Abel_; and truly in my Opinion the Supposition may be Very probable, for _Cain_’s being an Inhabitant there, the Ground hath been curst ever since, for it is a most barren Place to this very Day. Had grazing _Nebuchadnezzar_ been here, he would have found but bad Pasture; and _Judas_ as much plagu’d for a Tree to hang himself on. Bag-Pipes they esteem before Organs; there’s as much Hypocrisy in their Pantile-Houses as Irreligion in a _Jews_ Synagogue; and the Dog-Days are not so warm here as in more Southerly Climates, but their Bitches Nights every where are too hot with a Vengeance. Here is every Day an Autumn among the Women; for, for a Noggin of Brandy they will fall as thick on their Backs as the Leaves in St. _James_’s Park do in _September_; and Law and Equity are as great Strangers to the _Scots_, as Honesty to the Justice of Peace that’s lately run from _Clare-Court_ to the _Mint_, and who (when in Commission) was fitter to sit on a Butcher’s Block, as his Father did before him, than in a Magistrate’s Chair.

The Castle at _Edinburgh_ is reckon’d as impregnable as a _Scotchman_’s sear’d Conscience; and their Capital contains but one Broad Street, by which is an University containing one College of Scholars poor both in Purse and Head. Here are no Carts, but sliding Cars; and the highest Number I ever saw on their Hackney Coaches exceeded not 29. The _Scots_ reckon their Children spurious if they have not the Itch; and there’s as much Whoring every Day, as at _Bartholomew_ or _Southwark_ Fair. They Bury the Dead at Noon, to save the Charge of Torches; and as here are no Linkmen, only Boys and Girls light Passengers with Candles in Paper Lanthorns all about Town for a Baubee. Most of the People are generally of the Religion with them who marry without a Ring, Christen without the Cross, and Die without Baptism. Their Pastors, who are of the true Stamp of _Geneva_, endeavour by long extemporary Prayers and tedious Graces, to save the poor Souls of those Mountaineers; but yet their Hypocrisie Damns more than ever _Sampson_ Slew, and with the same Weapon too, _the Jaw Bone of an Ass_. The _Presbyterian_ Government is uppermost here; which Religion being a good quiet Subject, I could not forbear setting forth the Piety of a _Scotch Presbyterian_, in the following Lines.

_~CHRISTIANS~, behold a most pernicious sight,
Which worse than Hell wou’d dying Martyrs fright!
Such Monsters ~Africk~ never did produce;
Nor ~Lucifer~, when all his Imps broke loose,
To win, by force of Arms, celestial Sway,
But, unsuccessful, lost the fatal Day:
And if its Name by any shou’d be ask’d,
It is a ~Presbyterian~ unmask’d.
His Eyes at Vice look sad, and full of Woe,
Yet Heart and Tongue together never go;
His Words in Conventicles virtuous be,
But nauseous, when at Home, to Modesty.
To seem Dovout, he hates all common Whores,
But those which Ply in Private much Adores.
He trembles when a first Rate Oath he hears;
But Perjury his Int’rest seldom fears.
In solemn Leagues and Covenants he takes
Delight; but greater in the Vows he breaks:
And as informing is his darling Trade,
He is a godly Man in Masquerade.
In fine, he’s Born, he Lives, and Dies in Sin;
A Saint without, and Devil all within:
Nay, as his Sanctity’s a pious Fraud,
Which none but Knaves and Villains can applaud,
He is all Hypocrite, and what is worse!
The Scorn of Men, and God’s eternal Curse._

A _Scotchman_’s Tongue runs high Fullams, there is a Cheat in his Idiom; for the Sense ebbs from the bold Expression, like the Citizen’s Gallon in _London_, which the Drawer interprets but half a Pint. As they never speak as they think, their false Tongues may be compar’d to the Cards at _Primiviste_, in which Game 6 is 18, and 7 is 21. The poorer sort have a piece of Linnen peeping out at their Collars for show of a Shirt; but with long wearing it is so black and ragged, that it is going to the Paper-Mill as fast as it can. When the Beasts enter’d into the Ark by _Pairs_, I wonder how _Noah_ coupl’d the _Scots_, for they are strange Creatures both by Sea and Land; and an Ass is scarce to be had in this Nation either for Love or Money, because they put ’em all into Commissions of the Peace. They retain one barbarous Custom still, and that is, if any two be displeas’d they expect no Law, but bang it out, one and his kindred against the other and his; being so implacable in their hatred, that on each side they use a Scale of Destruction, by striving to ruin the Father, beggar the Son, and strangle the Hopes of all Posterity: And this Fighting they call their _Feider_, a Word so barbarous, that was it to be express’d in _Latin_, it must be by Circumlocution.

Their ill Manners make them look more salvage than the Monsters put by _Astrologers_ to the Humane Limbs in _Anatomy_; wherefore it is strange that _Physicians_ do not apply a _Scotchman_ to the Soles of the Feet in a desperate Fever, for he would draw far beyond Pidgeons; and it is thought some of our _English_ Quacks, Empericks or Mountebanks will slice one to try the Experiment. The _Scots_ were ever as great Friends to the King of _France_, as _Don Quixot_ was to _Sancho Pancho_, who fought at all Adventures to purchase the other the Government of an Island which was none of his; and they think themselves as brave Fellows as the _Spanish_ Knight Errant, when he fought a Windmill, to the great Danger of breaking the Necks of him and his Horse _Rosinante_, when it flung ’em both into a Pond. Their Godliness is of the same Parentage with good Laws, both extracted out of bad Manners; and their Teachers live upon the Sins of their Congregations, which verifies the Axiom, _Iisdem nutritur ex quibus componitur_. They dread to be civiliz’d; and they have a great Antipathy against Church Windows which are painted, when a Looking Glass would shew them more Superstition: In fine, a _Scotchman_ is such a Hater of Images, that he hath defac’d God’s in his own Countenance.

THE

Comical _Pilgrim_’s Pilgrimage

INTO

IRELAND.

Having seen too much Villany in _Scotland_ to pay the least Adoration to the Country, I return’d to _London_ again, and after a short Stay there went for _Highlake_ in _Cheshire_, where going on Board the _Seaforth_ Gally, Sail was presently hoisted, and in a few Hours bidding Adieu to the Sight of Old _England_ and _Wales_, we came to Anchor in the Bay of _Dublin_ very early on a _Whitsun-Monday_ in the Morning. Here I went ashore at _Dunlary_, and being got safe in that Part of _Terræ firmæ_, which, I think, is situated _in podice Mundi_, I went Five Miles farther to ~_DUBLIN_~, the Metropolis of _Ireland_, standing on the _Liffie_ River, as well as the Sea. This Country is seperated from _England_ by a very dangerous Sea, in which meeting with a most dreadful Hurricane, as soon as the tempestuous Weather was over, my _Muse_ incited me to delineate the Seamens Devotion in bad Weather, in the following Meditation.

_When Nature shews the Seaman various Forms
Of Death, in Tempests, Hurricanes, and Storms,
The Ship in Danger, Master, or the Mate,
Cries, Reef the Sails before it is too late;
We cannot bear ’em in this Stress of Weather,
Up nimbly, Boys, G⸺ d⸺ you, all together.
A Sailor from the Fore-Mast-Top bauls out,
By G⸺ there’ll be no Calm to Day, I doubt;
Then answers one, who’s on the Main-Yard Arm,
Z⸺ds, Lads, as yet we have receiv’d no Harm.
But next another cries, G⸺ d⸺ my Soul,
How cursedly the rotten Bitch do’s rowl!
Whilst here do’s split a Mast, there rent a Sail,
Another swears, by Heav’n the Ship do’s fail:
Some cry, G⸺ rot us, we shall all be drown’d,
The very Storm do’s rage the Compass round;
For steer which Way we will, the Wind do’s blow
Contrary to the Course we strive to go.
But hark! below Deck next a Man do’s speak,
And briskly swears, the Vessel springs a-leak;
Then how the Seamen helter-skelter jump,
To save the Ship and Cargo by the Pump;
Which useless grown, the Master says, I think
The Vessel founders, we begin to sink.
D⸺n ye, hoist out the Long-Boat, Wind defies
Our Art, the Gunhil under Water lies;
Come, leave the Whip-Staff; Lads, make hast, G⸺’s B⸺
Your Luffs nor Ports can do us now no Good.
Mean while the Chaplain, who shou’d for ’em pray,
Instead of praying, swears as fast as they:
And just on drowning, in one hideous Yell,
They curse their Fate, and swim with speed to Hell._

But being got upon firm Land again, as I said before, I was very glad of visiting the _Irish_ Natives, tho’ they are not yet wholly brought to a civil Course of Life, thro’ the Fathers inflicting an heavy Curse on all their Posterity, if ever they should sow Corn, build Houses, or learn the _English_ Tongue: And the Reason of this inveterate Antipathy is, because heretofore there being but one Freeholder in a whole County, which was the Lord himself, the rest held in Villanage; and being subject to the Lord’s immeasurable Taxations, they had no Encouragement to build, sow, or plant. _Ireland_ is divided into 4 Provinces; namely, _Munster_; _Leinster_, where _Stonehenge_ once stood, but by _Magick_ Art _Merlin_ remov’d those ponderous Stones out of this Territory into _Wiltshire_; _Connaught_, where are some Vines, but rather serving for Shade than Profit, for in these Parts the Sun entring into _Virgo_, causeth cold Gales to blow, and in Autumn the Afternoon’s Heat is so faint and short, that it cannot ripen the Clusters; and _Ulster_, whose antient Custom in making their King was by taking a white Cow, which his _Irish_ Majesty must kill, and seeth the same in Water whole, then must he bath himself therein stark naked; and sitting in the Caldron wherein it is sod, accompanied with the People round about him, he and they eat the Flesh, and drink the Broth (much Good may’t do ’em) without Cup, Dish or Spoon. No sooner was I arriv’d at _Dublin_, but being in Company with some Collegians of _Trinity-College_ there, which is all the Colleges their University contains, they to shew their extraordinary Parts to me a Stranger in a poetick Way, made Verses _ex tempore_, and I to Oblige them writ off of Hand the following Lines.

_When pious ~Israel~, by ~Jehovah~ blest,
Had been four hundred Years and more opprest,
By haughty ~Pharaoh~’s arbitrary Sway,
Which Doom’d the ~Hebrew~ Vassals to Obey,
It pleas’d the Pow’r of an Almighty Hand
To Scourge a stubborn King, and sinful Land,
With ten afflictions, grievous to a Realm,
Where Pride and Superstition sat at Helm.
Yet Wrath Divine was not so much Display’d,
To make a wise Creator be Obey’d,
But that indulging Heaven kept in store,
For ~Ireland~, a dozen Plagues and more.
Nits make their Youths, before they’re Old, look Grey,
And rampant Lice upon their Bodies Prey;
Their Summer Visiters are Swarms of Fleas,
Which Sting the Females that they can’t have Ease.
Poverty Nips ’em, Ign’rance is their Guide,
And Sloth in Triumph thro’ their Cabbins ride.
Misery for lazy Lives they Celebrate;
And Loyalty (which proves their Ruin) hate.
Their chiefest Talent much in Nonsense lies;
And honest Principles they all Dispise.
Devotion is a Stranger to their Thoughts,
And small Temptations make their Women Morts.
But that which adds to their intailed Curse,
Is store of Children, but an empty Purse.
Thus, if these are not Plagues enough, may Pox,
And all the Ails which cram’d ~Pandora~’s Box,
Always severely Torture them; and be
The Portion of their wild Posterity._