THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.

THE Engliſh have been cha⯑racteriſed by many ingenious Foreigners, as a People that delight greatly in Clubs and Aſſemblies; which they im⯑pute to a ſocial and good-natured Diſpo⯑ſition, and to a Love of Science. It is owing to this Diſpoſition, and to this af⯑fection 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 Commu⯑nication of Sentiment, either in Flaſhes of Wit, or ſolid Argument, to improve their Judgments, and entertain their Imagi⯑nations.

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

BUT, I am afraid, that though ſome Clubs produce theſe Effects, the Genera⯑rality 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 Li⯑centiouſneſs 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 em⯑ploys 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, re⯑ſembling that of the ROBINHOOD, is of their Nature, or produces their Effects: Thoſe are Drinking Clubs; this is a Diſ⯑puting one. At thoſe Places, Men meet to feed their Bodies; at this, they aſſemble to feed their Minds. At thoſe, Intoxi⯑cation 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 Re⯑marks 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, WIL⯑LIAM G********, Eſq being in Com⯑pany 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 Sen⯑timents, and propoſed it as his Opinion, that a Society might be formed to conſiſt of a certain Number of Gentlemen, of li⯑beral Education and acquired Accompliſh⯑ments, to meet Weekly, at ſome conve⯑nient Room, to diſcourſe on Subjects that would contribute to their mutual Inſtruc⯑tion and Entertainment. Sir HUGH de⯑clared 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 Grand⯑father, [5] would not permit their being ab⯑ſent 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 Pru⯑dence for about ſeven-and-twenty Years, he had amaſſed no leſs a Sum than forty-ſeven thouſand Pounds; with which, con⯑trary 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 ex⯑treme good natural Parts, heightened and embelliſhed by the Acquiſition of the uſe⯑ful 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 Employ⯑ments, and partake of other Amuſements, not leſs ſuited to his Taſte, and for which he was not leſs qualified. At the Meet⯑ing [6] my Grand-father and Sir HUGH had at the oldeſt Tavern in London, the Lon⯑don 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, meet⯑ing once a Week to debate on Subjects of Importance. For an Account of the In⯑ſtitution 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.

[8] LET not the Reader think me too cir⯑cumſtantial 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.

[13]THE firſt Meeting which this Society of Gentlemen had, was the Monday ſubſe⯑quent 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 con⯑gratulating 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:

THIS Queſtion, the Reader will per⯑ceive, 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 Ac⯑count 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 Can⯑did Enquiry, was handled.

Sir HUGH, after he had read the Queſ⯑tion, aſked if any of the Gentlemen pre⯑ſent choſe to deliver his ſentiments of it to the Company. On which Mr. WHI⯑TAKER got up, and in a learned Speech pointed out the many errors, which, he apprehended, prevailed in the then defec⯑tive 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 Educa⯑tion, 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; di⯑ſtinguiſhed with great Propriety and Pre⯑ciſion, 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 Prin⯑ciples 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 Educa⯑tion; that the inculcating the great Duties of Religion and Morality, ſhould be look'd on as of ſuch ſmall moment, as to be to⯑tally 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 pro⯑duced 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 Me⯑thod of Education, that, I think, I can⯑not do better than give his Speech at full Length.

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 Ap⯑plauſe my Grand-father has obſerved was [28] given to his Speech: And how far appli⯑cable his Obſervations on the defective Sy⯑ſtem 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,

IN diſcuſſing this Queſtion, many learn⯑ed and ingenious Arguments were produ⯑ced 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 demon⯑ſtrated 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 infi⯑nitely 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 Pur⯑ſuits and Expectations, which ſowered their Minds, and gave them a Diſguſt to the World; and from Pride and Vani⯑ty, which ſwelling their Souls, and in⯑toxicating 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 how⯑ever 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.

THIS Queſtion was agreed by the So⯑ciety to be debated on again the next Mon⯑day Night, which was the 24th of Novem⯑ber; and the Subject being, in their Opinion, of the greateſt Importance, and not ex⯑hauſted, after they had again diſcuſſed it [31] that Evening, it was agreed that it ſhould be a Subject for their Entertainment a third Night.

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.

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

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 particu⯑larly 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 criti⯑cal 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 mur⯑dered; [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 toge⯑ther 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 ex⯑tremely inconvenient for a greater Number of Members to meet together, refuſed ad⯑mitting 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.

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 pub⯑lic 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 Diſ⯑poſition. I find that he was ſo well en⯑tertain'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 Grand⯑father and Sir HUGH. But it being like the immortal Regiment of FREDERICK II. King of Pruſſia, ſupplied with new Mem⯑bers 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 dread⯑ful 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 Grand⯑father, [38] who, after being ſeized with it, and continuing exceſſively ill for eleven Days, departed this Life in the eighty-ſe⯑venth 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 MYDDLE⯑TON, the chief Eſtabliſher.

THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.
PART II.

HITHERTO we have been enabled to compile this Hiſto⯑ry 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 ſuffi⯑cient to reflect a Splendor on ſo obſcure a Subject as that which we have attemp⯑ted, [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 in⯑ſipid to our Readers, a very diſagreeable Taſk for ourſelves, and would have ſwel⯑led this Hiſtory to an enormous Size.

WE ſhall now, in this Second Part, continue our Hiſtory from my Grand⯑father'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 Tranſ⯑migration 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 Grand⯑father, and no leſs particular in tranſcri⯑bing from the Club-Book the various Que⯑ſtions 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 re⯑ceived Applications from ſeveral Men of Quality, and great Numbers of others di⯑ſtinguiſhed for Wit and Judgment, for their being admitted to partake of the In⯑ſtruction and Entertainment which their Debates afforded; but ſo general an Ad⯑miſſion was deemed impracticable, on Ac⯑count 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, how⯑ever, allowed the Liberty of being preſent at the Debates, and to ſpeak themſelves to the Queſtion if they thought proper. Re⯑ſtraint irritates Deſire, and Things forbid⯑den have greater Charms for Mankind, than thoſe they are at free Liberty to en⯑joy. So proved it with thoſe Gentlemen, who, though they had been preſent at the Debates of the Society, were not Mem⯑bers 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 Incli⯑nation 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 mot⯑ly Mixture of angry Cenſures and ſolid Arguments, Animadverſions on the Que⯑ſtions 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 Invec⯑tives; 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 Admit⯑tance, for the future, to any Gentleman whatever, that might deſire to be an occa⯑ſional Viſitant, and to make ſuch an Order in their Book. And he gave it as his Opi⯑nion, that without doing it, the Society muſt ſoon fall to the Ground, by the Up⯑roar and tumultuous Proceedings which frequently prevailed there.

HE was ſeconded in his Motion by ano⯑ther of the Members, a Man of like Tem⯑per 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 Viſi⯑tant. 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 Gentle⯑man to attend there who was not a Mem⯑ber, 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 Re⯑ſpect, travelled on in a wrong Road for fif⯑teen Years laſt paſt, there was no Reaſon they ſhould ſtill travel in it, eſpecially as they had then experienced the Inconveni⯑encies that aroſe from it.

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

THIS Queſtion gave Riſe to many Ar⯑guments 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 Argu⯑ments 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 remark⯑able, 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 Impreſ⯑ſion on them, that they followed his Ad⯑vice, [46] in the Alteration and Enlargement of their Plan.

This Speech was received with univerſal Applauſe. Even the Gentlemen that op⯑poſed [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 re⯑quired an Alteration.

IN Conſequence of this Opinion, the Society came to a Determination, of having their Meetings at ſome Tavern or Coffee⯑houſe, where they might be accommoda⯑ted 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 en⯑tering.

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 Mem⯑bers; but that which ſeemed moſt com⯑modious, and beſt adapted to their Pur⯑poſe, 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 Bre⯑thren, [53] on their Return, that it would, with ſome Alterations, anſwer their Pur⯑poſe 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. Be⯑fore, 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 recei⯑ved: 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 fur⯑niſhed 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.

THESE are the moſt material new Re⯑gulations 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 Num⯑bers 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 pay⯑ing Six-pence. No one Topic for Con⯑verſation ſo univerſally prevailed as this. It became a general Subject of Debate with⯑out Doors, as much as Philoſophy, Meta⯑phyſics, 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 aſ⯑ſembled at the Eſſex-Head every Monday Night, ſome as Orators, and ſome as Au⯑ditors; 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 criti⯑ciſe the Speeches of the Eſſex-Head Ora⯑tors, 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 Ora⯑tions of the fineſt Orators; he can dimi⯑niſh the Graces of Elocution and Action, and exaggerate little Defects, with all the petulance of Pedantry, and Rage of Cen⯑ſure.

[58] SUCH Critics are like Eunuchs: They have not Vigour nor Courage to act man⯑fully themſelves, and they envy and cen⯑ſure 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 Car⯑caſe, 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 Sub⯑ject 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 deſcri⯑bed, 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 Plea⯑ſure, 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 entertain⯑ing 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 Judg⯑ment of every new Production, by read⯑ing 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 malig⯑nant 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 wonder⯑ful 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 in⯑exhauſtible 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 Reli⯑gion 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 ſtu⯑dious 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 Li⯑berty 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 deba⯑ted [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 exa⯑mined into; and it was the indiſpenſible Duty of every Man, to ſearch the Scrip⯑tures, 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 Rea⯑ſon, 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 infi⯑nitely 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 Rab⯑bit and a Pot of Beer, were as neceſſary Requiſites for a profeſſed Orator, as Know⯑ledge and Elocution, or even a Subject to harangue on.

AS to the Admiſſion of Political Queſ⯑tions, 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 poſſeſ⯑ſed 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 Com⯑munity 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 Re⯑ligion 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 reli⯑gious 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.

MANY Arguments were urged on both Sides, and Religion and Reaſon were ban⯑died 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 Propor⯑tion 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 al⯑ledged, 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 im⯑partial 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 in⯑ſtructed 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 fet⯑tered and Credulity and Ignorance ſtalls at large.

MANY other Arguments were produced, in Support of the Opinions of thoſe inge⯑nious Gentlemen, which it would be too tedious to enumerate; the Reſult, how⯑ever, of their Enquiries, and the Inferen⯑ces they drew from their Propoſitions, [67] were, that Faith, of whatever Kind or Nature ſoever, was not in the leaſt meri⯑torious, 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 Pro⯑poſition or Doctrine which came under the Examination of our Senſes; and that an Infidel and a Chriſtian, are alike accepta⯑ble 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 re⯑fute, therefore, the Obſervations before made, would not be to record the Proceed⯑ings of the Society, but to give my own Opinion.

[68] ONE Obſervation I muſt, however, be permitted to make. An ignorant Chriſ⯑tian 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 pre⯑tended 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 tri⯑umph without a Victory.

TO give the Reader as ſatisfactory Ac⯑count of the Society as I can, and to en⯑able him to form an adequate Idea of the Members that compoſed it, I ſhall tranſ⯑cribe 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 ſuper⯑ſeded, 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 juſti⯑fiable 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 ſub⯑mit 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 Fa⯑culties, 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 Su⯑preme Being, could be born of a Vir⯑gin? NEGATIVUS.’ ‘[71]Whether any one is accountable to any Body of Men whatever for his religi⯑ous Sentiments? CHRISTIANUS.’ ‘Whether the Variety of Religious Syſtems, all pretending to have the Divine Au⯑thority of the Sacred Writings for their Foundation, does not warrant an un⯑prejudiced and a rational Perſon to ſuſ⯑pect 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 en⯑truſted 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 unde⯑ſerving Favourite with Treaſures, and who hears and ſees every thing with HIS Ears and Eyes, merits the glorious Title of a Patriot King, notwithſtand⯑ing the fulſome Adulation and ſervile Compliments paid him by dependent Sy⯑cophants 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 freez⯑ing [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 bet⯑ter Monarch than Alfred or Conſtan⯑tine? 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 re⯑preſented as Pious, Good, Great, and every Thing that is excellent? DUN SCOTUS.’ ‘Whether the notorious Practice of the Mi⯑niſtry's interfering with the Election of Members of Parliament, and the Arts of Bribery and Corruption, ſo univer⯑ſally 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 Sub⯑ject? 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 Soci⯑ety, 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 de⯑bated 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 Philoſo⯑phers and Chriſtians to endeavour to explain Myſteries, to fathom what is unfathom⯑able, and to conceive what is inconcei⯑vable? Such is the Pride of human Wit, and ſuch our Delight in reconciling Para⯑doxes, and fighting with Shadows, that we neglect the Study of Subjects that are of [75] the laſt Importance, and eaſy to be under⯑ſtood, and employ our Thoughts on thoſe that are out of the Reach of finite Capa⯑cities, and which, could they be explained and underſtood, would ceaſe to be myſte⯑rious; for, as an eminent Divine has juſt⯑ly obſerved, a Myſtery explained is a Con⯑tradiction in Terms, ſince, being explained, it becomes no Myſtery at all.

NOR leſs abſurd and ridiculous is the de⯑bating on Subjects that can admit of no rational Debate, or the leaſt Doubt. Why ſhould an Aſſembly of Men, whoſe pro⯑feſſed Intention is to improve one ano⯑ther, propoſe a Queſton, Whether Vice is Vice or not? For that is the whole Pur⯑port 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 For⯑tune 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 Poli⯑tical, 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 So⯑ciety; 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 Judg⯑ment, 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 recei⯑ved Meaning of the Word, a Deiſt; but, according to a true Expreſſion of that Cha⯑racter, 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 re⯑mained. A looſe and diſorderly Life gene⯑rally brings on ſome Rebukes of Conſci⯑ence, and ſome alarming Reflections. To prevent their Influence, returning Appe⯑tite and ſtrong Temptation preſent them⯑ſelves, and enliſting the Will under their Banners, Reaſon is ſeduced, and Conſci⯑ence ſmothered. But, as under the moſt mountainous Oppreſſion, theſe rigid Mo⯑nitors 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 dread⯑ful 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, there⯑fore, 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 ha⯑rangued [78] on the Expediency and Utility of Fornication, with the choiceſt Metaphors. He was now ſurpriſed at his former Puſil⯑lanimity 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 Com⯑mon-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, Conſci⯑ence, that ill-natured Snarler, that Enemy to our Happineſs, ſuggeſts a thouſand Rea⯑ſons 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 Moc⯑kery of the Senſes; and warns us, with an an earneſt and a loud Voice, not to for⯑ſake the Road we are in, to graſp at Sha⯑dows, 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 Sy⯑rens 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 en⯑ter the Bowers of Bliſs; we throw our⯑ſelves on the Beds of Roſes, fully perſua⯑ded 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 Vi⯑pers, and Scorpions, lurk beneath the Roſe Beds!

So was it with POMPONIUS. But of the latter Pa t of this Deſcription he ex⯑perienced not the Truth, 'till Conviction came to him on a Death-Bed—Fre⯑quenting 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 at⯑tempted it, he was ſure of being foiled.

IN this Manner he went on 'till he ar⯑rived 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 ob⯑ſerved, 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 face⯑tious, 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 Rea⯑ſon, and impoſe on the Senſes, but a ſub⯑ſtantial 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 de⯑clared them? Alas! on a Bed from whence he never more aroſe into this World: His immortal Spirit freed from its Impriſon⯑ment 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 Ap⯑prentice 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 pro⯑duced [82] immenſe Fortunes in it. He was ignorant and illiterate to the laſt Degree; had no Accompliſhments that could re⯑commend 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 re⯑gardleſs of the Merits of her Suitors, it frequently happens, that the Unworthy are admitted into her Temple, and re⯑ceiv'd as her peculiar Favourites, while the Learned and Ingenious languiſh in Ob⯑ſcurity, 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 ignomi⯑nious State he had been uſed to, he met with great Succeſs, and abounded in Af⯑fluence; Wealth flow'd in faſt upon him, while Men of infinitely greater Merit were ſinking beneath a Load of Misfor⯑tunes, and patiently enduring the Frowns of Fortune. The Alley prov'd a real Friend to him, and his Subſtance conti⯑nually increaſed. As he grew more weal⯑thy, 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 home⯑brewed, either at the Crooked Billet in Shire Lane, or the Welch Harp in Full⯑wood'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 conti⯑nually increaſing, and with it the Deſire of more. Like the Grave, his Luſt for Money was boundleſs, and he endea⯑vour'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 him⯑ſelf 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 Tan⯑kard—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, inſen⯑ſible [85] to every Thing but the Luſt of Mo⯑ney, 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 pro⯑nounced 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 Ad⯑dition to it. The Scheme being at length duly adjuſted, WILL made his Appear⯑ance 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 Hun⯑dred 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 Pro⯑bability, 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 Diſpo⯑ſition, freed from the Auſterity and Ri⯑gour that frequently make Wiſdom odious. MURTAGH would demonſtrate with the greateſt Clearneſs, that Mirth and Chear⯑fulneſs 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 Propen⯑ſity, this longing Deſire to be happy, and to make others ſo, Father MURTAGH would frequent Clubs, and ſing Catches, ſpeak Speeches, drink Toaſts, break Glaſ⯑ſes, 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 Beha⯑viour, 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 per⯑fectly idolized him, and, in Return, Fa⯑ther 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 Af⯑fections 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 Er⯑ror might riſe to Guilt, and youthful In⯑dulgence [89] terminate in confirmed Wicked⯑neſs and obſtinate Villainy.

FATHER MURTAGH being ſuch a pro⯑feſſed 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 Confeſ⯑ſor. 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 Bre⯑thren 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 melan⯑choly 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 him⯑ſelf 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 them⯑ſelves by the Preſence of their heavenly Gueſt; and in conſequence of this Opi⯑nion, 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 Ca⯑tholic 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 eve⯑ry Monday night at the Eſſex-Head, ſpoke to the Queſtions in the Character of a Pro⯑teſtant, 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 de⯑preciate 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 con⯑ſtantly, on Account of his Age and Infir⯑mities.

BOB SCAMPER was a Man very different from the three I have been de⯑ſcribing: 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 Learn⯑ing, he could get no genteel Employment. His Female aſſociates, however, ſoon fur⯑niſhed 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 Suc⯑ceſs, 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 fa⯑miliariſes 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 Viola⯑tion 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 ill⯑got Treaſure among Whores and Thieves, the Encouragers of his Wickedneſs, and the Sharers of his Spoils.

THIS was a worthy Member of a So⯑ciety 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 ingeni⯑ous, 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 poſ⯑ſeſſed.

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 Cox⯑comb. The firſt, by the Help of a full⯑trimmed grave Suit, and a large Peruque, a ſagacious Look, and a ſlow Deli⯑very, 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, Mil⯑lener, 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 Ge⯑nius.

SCAMPER was to be ranked in this ſecond Claſs of Orators. He ſpoke to eve⯑ry 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 con⯑ſidered as a very great Genius, and an Or⯑nament 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 Gentle⯑man 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

SCAMPER, after deſiring the Preſi⯑dent to read the Queſtion again, ſpoke to it in the beſt Manner he could. He vindi⯑cated Chriſtianity in general, and demon⯑ſtrated that all its Doctrines tended to the Support of Morality, by diſcountenancing all Manner of Vice. He ſhewed its ſu⯑perior 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 compre⯑hended in one conciſe View, all the Doc⯑trines 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 un⯑able to form a complete Syſtem of moral Duties, but that all their Writings put to⯑gether were inſufficient to form ſuch a Syſtem, and that if all their Morality was [97] to be extracted, that is, all their Excellen⯑cies to be reduced into a Syſtem, it would ſtill be an imperfect one. He then ſpoke more immediately to the Queſtion, and deli⯑vered it as his Opinion, that the Doctrine of Repentance, as taught by the eſtabliſhed Church, of which, he ſaid, he was not a⯑ſhamed 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 Sor⯑row for our paſt Sins, but likewiſe a Reſo⯑lution of reforming our Conduct for the fu⯑ture. 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 writ⯑ten 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 Scor⯑pions, and throw us into the Agonies of Deſpair and Horror. He concluded, by drawing a Contraſt between the Repen⯑tance of the Proteſtant, and the Abſolution of the Roman Catholic Church; and in⯑ſiſted, that the former tended to our ſpi⯑ritual and temporal Welfare, and the latter to the Deſtruction of both.

DURING all the Time this great Advo⯑cate for Religion and Morality was ſpeak⯑ing, 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 Miſ⯑fortune 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 Con⯑ſtable, who was to take Care of SCAM⯑PER, [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 Gen⯑tleman in laced Cloaths, near the Preſi⯑dent, was the Man that robbed his Maſter on Hounſlow-Heath. This was ſufficient. The Conſtable went up to him, and tap⯑ping 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 Gentle⯑man 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 Fel⯑lows 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 igno⯑minious Death in the Sight of a nume⯑rous 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 ha⯑ranguing 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 RAKE⯑WELL. 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 Ap⯑prentice 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 get⯑ting 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 per⯑forming, 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 pro⯑duced 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 ac⯑quieſced 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 Bu⯑reau, 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 Metro⯑polis, 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 inno⯑cently. The Houſes he frequented were either Brothels, or Night-Houſes, and the Company conſiſted of wild, and thoughtleſs young Apprentices like him⯑ſelf, or thorough-paced Rogues, who ini⯑tiated 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 fre⯑quently 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 be⯑came a complete Buck and Blood, ſallied out every Night in Queſt of Adventures, beat the Watch, bullied Conſtables, de⯑moliſhed 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 Hap⯑pineſs 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 Re⯑ligion. 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 Spi⯑ritual 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 Ar⯑guments alledged in Favour of his Opi⯑nions, our Orator would leave the Society, and proceed to his uſual Night Entertain⯑ments, 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 Hun⯑dred 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 Ho⯑nour 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 An⯑nuities, and Three per Cent. Bank An⯑nuities, 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 Tradeſ⯑men 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 in⯑duced 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 rob⯑bed of Five Hundred Guineas, of his ha⯑ving a Combat with the Highwaymen that had robbed him, and of his having em⯑ploy'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 Re⯑turn. RAKEWELL then voluntarily men⯑tioned 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 Re⯑compence in full, but as an Earneſt only of what he ſhould receive. He then in⯑formed 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 Guar⯑dian, and would return to London in five Days, where his Lady impatiently expect⯑ed 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 Occa⯑ſion for the Hundred Pounds he had given him, he having, by his Care and Induſtry, ſince his leaving him laſt, ſaved up Twen⯑ty-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 Fort⯑night he might have the Pleaſure of treb⯑ling 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 Er⯑rors, 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 in⯑toxicated. After all the Company was gone, the old Man, whoſe Heart was now quite merry, went to a private Clo⯑ſet, took out a Bottle of excellent Citron Water, and deſired his Son to take a Glaſs. The Son obeyed him, and the Father fol⯑lowed the Example. One Glaſs intro⯑duced [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;

[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 pre⯑ſent, and the Dread of future Pain. Not that this Doctrine, he obſerved, tended in the leaſt to ſet aſide that of a future Retri⯑bution 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 applau⯑ding 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 Wicked⯑neſs revealed to the World; which would conſequentially draw on him the ſevere Penalties of the Law, and the juſt Deteſ⯑tation of Mankind. He inſiſted on it, that the continual Apprehenſions of Diſco⯑very 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 De⯑gree of nauſeous and bitter Herbs. He then launched out into the Pleaſures of Vir⯑tue and Religion; and made it appear, that their Votaries reaped greater Satiſ⯑faction, and taſted a more home-felt Plea⯑ſure 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 Doc⯑trine: 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 Ortho⯑dox Writer, whoſe Notions and Senti⯑ments 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. Af⯑ter 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 conveni⯑ent 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 Gentle⯑man 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 So⯑ciety was obſerved to dwindle away, and its ſtaunch Advocates and firm Friends be⯑gan 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 Mem⯑bers deterred People from attending a So⯑ciety 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 particu⯑larize all their Proceedings, and to cha⯑racterize 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 Num⯑bers 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 De⯑bates that had ſo much attracted the At⯑tention, and extorted the Admiration of the World.

THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.
PART III.

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 or⯑der 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 en⯑riching 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 Manage⯑ment 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 Com⯑mittee 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 Diſpu⯑tants in particular, were duly ſerv'd with Liquor.

A PERPETUAL Preſident was alſo ap⯑pointed, 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 ad⯑mitted, and enter'd in the Book, were to ſignify it by holding up their Hands; and thoſe who did not think it a proper Queſ⯑tion, 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 De⯑bate, and then aſk the ſeveral Members whether they choſe to ſpeak to it, begin⯑ning [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 Mi⯑nutes of what he conceiv'd to be of par⯑ticular 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 invali⯑date 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 De⯑bates 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 Pre⯑ſident was likewiſe to keep Order and De⯑corum 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 ad⯑mitted for his Six-pence, muſt be liable to many Irregularities. But though the Pre⯑ſident's Trouble was ſo great, yet his Attachment to, and Veneration for, the Society was ſuch, that, unlike the inte⯑reſted 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 Aſper⯑ſions 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 mo⯑derate Computation, the Public might perceive that no leſs than Five Thouſand three Half-pennies were diſtributed in Cha⯑rity, 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, MANU⯑FACTURES 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 diſtin⯑guiſhed 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 Ora⯑tory, 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 Fir⯑mamental 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, Surgeon⯑like, [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 de⯑feated; and that every one of the Members that compoſed it, would infallibly be d—d. Nay, one Reverend Gentleman in parti⯑cular,^* 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 Earth⯑quake in Liſbon, in the Year 1749, were ſwallow'd up, and immediately conſign'd to the Care of the D—l; ſo the ROBIN⯑HOOD 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 Regula⯑rity he preſerv'd.

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

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

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.

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THE HISTORY OF THE Robinhood Society.
PART IV.

WE have thus brought down our Hiſtory of the ROBINHOOD SOCIETY, from its firſt Eſta⯑bliſhment, to the Time of the Death or Seceſſion of ſeveral of its chief Members: To render it there⯑fore 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 deli⯑cate Part of this Hiſtory: Living Charac⯑ters are to be exhibited, and muſt there⯑fore 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

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

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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. Un⯑influenced by any private Views, we have neither indulged Reſentment by wanton Cenſure, nor, for the Sake of perſonal At⯑tachments, proſtituted Praiſe.

OF the general Character of the Socie⯑ty, 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.

THUS ended my Friend, whoſe Opi⯑nion upon this Matter I have made pub⯑lic, as the beſt Reaſon for my taking his Advice. The Story he recommends, is as follows.