&Hic;OW Fruitless and Empty the Requests of the Poor have return'd at Court, whether they have been for Justice or Mercy, is apparent from a Thousand Instances: And one I'll relate to you, without Peevish design of Reflecting upon any particular Court, for the Pauper's Petition is alike neglected (by what I've Seen, Hear'd, or Read) in every Court. A Gentleman (fitly Qualifi'd) who by permission had Purchased an Imploy for Life, under a King, and to his Successors, was, upon a Successor's coming to the Crown (tho' he had taken Oaths of Allegiance, and done what was requisite, according to Law, for Qualification) to feed the Avarice, or gratify the wicked Bounty of a certain Person, to whose care the Managery was intrusted, was turn'd out, with only the Madmans humourous Reason, Sic Jubeo, sic Volo. By which unjust (at least unkind) usage, he had very little left to maintain himself, Wife, and four Children.

By this true Relation is evident, the little success that is to be expected from the poor unhappy Man's Petitioning against a Man in Power; for when he pleases, he Blackens and Misrepresents an Under&rehy;ling; and what a Favourite says, is easily believ'd.

In such a Case, a Prince is the easiest Man in the World to be Im&rehy;pos'd on, considering the vast multitude of Affairs that Center in His ordering and Manage, the particular Cognizance of all which, 'tis impossible for Him to take; for upon a kind of Necessity He is oblig'd to have His knowledg of several Affairs from the report that those about Him are pleas'd to make; and what Man will tell a Story to his own disadvantage? And who can tell it but the Favo&rehy;rite, whilst the poor Petitioner is debarr'd Access?

&Qic;Uis Pauper? Avarus: An admirable and proper Answer to the Question; because the Covetous Man wanteth that which he hath, as well as that which he hath not, as proves true by the following relation. A Friend of mine (if a Co&rehy;vetous Man can be so) of Gentile Extraction, and sutable Education, having a competent Estate of four hundred Pounds per Annum, and a thousand Pounds in Money left him, which Revenue as far excee&rehy;ded his desire of Living, as it came short of his desire of Acquiring; for he no sooner had the Possession, but he retrench'd the usual Ex&rehy;pences of the Family; he sav'd Charge, by putting away the Mouths that caus'd it; and the only Servant that he kept, liv'd almost like a Bear in Greenland, on the Nourishment he had got in the Summer of the Fathers Life time. In short, no Anchorite liv'd more sparing than he, unless it were upon anothers cost, and then 'twas a covetous hu&rehy;mour made him Eat and Drink like a Glutton and a Drunkard. In all his Actions he was Base; He would Steal his own Goods, to make his Servant pay for them: By such sorbid ways his Wealth was accu&rehy;mulated; he sold the Mansion-house, because the Purchase-Money would yield a greater profit than the Rent amounted to; and retir'd from a great House (not from Plenty and Abundance) to a less, that he could not Rent out: By such Niggardly Methods, in process of time, he had heap'd up a very great Treasure.

There was a Young hopeful Gentleman, his Nephew, who expected to reap the fruits of his Covetousness, that often came to visit him; and was always Complaisant, sooth'd, and commended every Humour, which I take to be the right way of Pleasing; for certain (at least during the time of prevailing Fancy, or Action) every Man is pleas'd with his own Sentiments, or Doings; so consequently loves to have them approv'd, and applauded.

He gratifi'd the Misers Appetite at his own Expence, his Pantrey and his Cellar were always ready to gratify his least motion of desire, his Coach and Horses attended his occasions; he baulk'd his own Humour, neglected his pleasant and facetious Companions, and con&rehy;fin'd himself to Oblige his Sordid Temper. Tho' it must be confess'd Self-interest mov'd him, yet it pleas'd the Wretch, when he advised him to secure his Treasure, that no Rachel, or other, might Steal his God. He Christned his Son of the Jew's Name, he did, what not? to Oblige him. He defended him from Robbers at the peril of his own Life: Nay more, He justify'd his base Principles, contrary to his Conscience: But all the Returns that were paid to these Services, were Mountain-Promises, whilst in his Cups; but Molehills, or no Performances, when Sober.

Afterwards this Obliging Gentleman fell by misfortune into Straits and Necessities, so that his Family wanted convenient Sub&rehy;sistance; yet the other pitiless, and unconcern'd, return'd no good Nature, no Charity, no grateful Act, for all his generous Obligations; not so much as even common Humanity would out of Mercy oblige a very Jew to show to a Stranger in Misery. After the Miser had Bought what he had left, for half the value, he forbid him his House, and whenever he met him, he pass'd by him as a Stranger. At last, Intestate, the miserable Rascal Dies; for the very Thought of dispo&rehy;sing of his Riches, would have been as Mortal as a Cannon Shot: So Volens Nolens, what he left, fell to this Gentleman. But I had almost forgot to tell you, That his Jealous Temper (which must ac&rehy;company the Covetous, let their Avarice be fix'd on what it will) made him Bury a great part of his Money and Writings, so that a great deal was lost for want of the knowledge of the Concealments.

A Covetous Desire is properly applicable to self, for even when I seem to desire the Advantage of another, there is something of self in the matter; and it must be allow'd that he I wish well, is my Friend; tho' anothers being my Enemy, only makes him so; so by my desire, I gratifie my own Inclination in my Friends Advantage, or please my Anger, in my Enemies Disadvantage; a Covetous Mans Thoughts center in his own profit, and what good goes besides him, he counts by Providence wrong apply'd; then 'tis Idle to expect, that he that Covets all, should frustrate his vast design, by giving me a part; as Covetousness is a Selfish humour, 'tis impossible it should be diffusive.

&Tic;He mutual Disapointments that commonly thwart, and hinder the Happiness expected by the Marriage of an Old Man to a Young Woman, the following Story sets forth: An Anci&rehy;ent Gentleman, whose head Age had Powder'd like a Beau's, who in his Sprightly Youth could at Sight answer the Expectations of the most Lascivious Female, as Doctors Commons and Parish-Books could Witness, he had liv'd a Libertine Life, and had never thoughts of Marriage, till he was Three Score and Ten, when he happen'd into the Company of a Beautiful Young Woman, whose Charms, and Behaviour blew away the Ashes that covered the Fire that remain'd in the Brands end, so that it made a Faint Blaze, which (of late un&rehy;accustom'd) warmth made the (willing to be Deceiv'd) Senior fancy that there was yet a great Stock of Vigour in his Veins, that would answer the ends of Marriage; thus when Lechery had left his Tail, and agitated only by Desire, fancy'd mighty Peformances in his Lustful Brain, he Courts this Lady for his Bride, who had not the Charms to renue an old Æson's Age, sensible that his expiring Flame could not long last, he was Impatient of delay; so by continual Court&rehy;ship he try'd to watch his Mistress, like a Hawk, into Compliance; but 'twas perswasive Money that made her Consent to endure a Len&rehy;ten Pennance, in Expectation of an happy Easter after his Death. In short, for filthy Lucre Married him, and submitted herself to his Feeble Threescore and Ten Years Attempts, after his fluttering all the Wedding Day, they were put to Bed, (I think that word suitable to his Age) and after Sack-Posset Eat, and Stocken thrown, the Company withdrew, and left them to themselves. When he fail'd in Performance, she was frustrated in her Expectation, so that their Marriage signified Little or Nothing.

The Answer I make, to those that will say, Every Body knew this Story before, is, That tho' I pretend to Write Novel's, I don't No&rehy;velties, but to dress up something that for one Meal may be Pleasing, and of grateful Gust; and perhaps some Observation may be made from this Story worthy Self-Application: But tho' the Reader do not, I will, to continue the Method I first Design'd.

To Attempt any thing, which nothing but (almost) a Miracle can make Successful, is Folly and Madness; and little less, can move a Man of Threescore Years and Ten to do &horfill; to any purpose. An Old Man Marrying a Young Woman, is like laying down a good Joynt of Meat, to an almost Consumed Fire, which will blaze a while, but by the sudden decay, for want of Fuel, will make it but luke Warm: He is counted a Blockhead that pretends to set up a Trade, when he is past Labour, without he takes an able Journeyman; and I be&rehy;lieve in this Case, no Man will willingly admit of a Journeyman to manage his Commodity, and without one (by effects may be judg'd) the Marriage will signifie little towards Procreation. Dis&rehy;appointments must happen to the Man from Natural Consequence, notwithstanding the mighty belief of his Abilities. I have known from Powerful Fancy, when a Child has been tyred with Walking, yet Imagining he Rode when he had a Switch between his Legs, would Imitate the Trot and Gallop, for a small while, without complain&rehy;ing; but presently the weakness and Imbecility of his Feet, made him sensible his Natural Strength (tho' agitated by Desire) could not carry him to his desired home: So the Old, whose Vigorous heat is Spent, may imagine if he get a Cock Horse, how furiously he'll Ride; but like the tyred Child, his Natural decay will appear.

The Man being deceived, by Consequence the Woman must; and what sad Effects do such Disappointments cause, are Evident from the future carriage of both Man and Woman: He grows Jealous, un&rehy;willing another should Feed, tho' he himself can't make use of the Dainties; then the Poor abused Woman is watch'd, perhaps confin'd, and her whole Life made uneasie.

Like a poor Man (cajoll'd by mighty Promises) transported to the West-Indies; when he comes there, finding himself a Slave, to the Beck and Rod of an Imperious Patron, being fast bound by Con&rehy;tract, has no hopes of Liberty, but from the Expiration of time; such is the Condition of a Young Woman, who flatter'd with the belief of Fond Doting Dalliance, and Plenty, is betray'd into the Slavery of Marriage, with an Old Fellow, she has no hopes of Deliverance from, but by the Expiration of her Disagreeable Husbands Life; her Youthful heat meeting with the Icy coldness of his Age, causes thun&rehy;der in the House: Continual Jars forbid all hopes of Peace.

The Reverse of this Story, which is an Old Woman Marrying to a Young Fellow, is to the full as ridiculous, and signifies as little to a mutual Content.

&Tic;HE present Age is not so very Vertuous, but that we may meet with examples in almost every Company and Con&rehy;versation, that demonstrates the little Efficacy the well de&rehy;sign'd Writings and Publick Teaching of Good Men have had, to&rehy;wards Reformation of Manners, and the Practice of Vertue. But not being willing to expose particularly the Insensibility that appears either in my own Life, by not Amending, and Correcting my re&rehy;prov'd Actions, or in the general Practice of any Fellow-Country&rehy;men; I have pitch'd upon the History of Socrates, so far as it agrees with my Design; that is, to show how little the good Documents he Taught, signified to the Reform or Benefit of the Athenians, and the Odium they caused from those he endeavour'd to Amend.

Socrates, who was Born in a small Village called Halopex, under the Athenian Jurisdiction; is commonly called the Athenian, to distin&rehy;guish him from several others, of that Name, one of which Wrote the History of Argos, another was a Bathynian, &c. This Socrates the Athenian, was taught Philosophy under Anaxagoras, he was a Man of great Temperance, of a strong Constitution, one who enquir'd into the Nature of Sublime things, Studied Humanity, Practised and to poor and Rich Publickly Preached Vertue and Good Manners; to be silent, and not to reprove Wicked Men, he counted a Crime against the Gods; to Discourse of Vertue, he esteem'd as a great Happiness; and imploying himself almost constantly in instructing of the Citizens, he neglected mightily his private Affairs, so that he was Poor, and told the Athenians, that he ought to be Maintained out of the Prytaneum, or Publick Store-House: That he ought to be Rewarded more then a Victor, for the Conqueror could but make them appear to be Happy, when by his Instructions in Vertue (if Practi&rehy;sed) they would really be so, not only from present Serenity of Mind, but in Futuro; for he believed an Immortality of the Soul, and the very day he Died, he imploy'd in Discoursing of, and by Convincive Arguments to his Friends prov'd the Souls Indivisibility, and Con&rehy;sequently Immortality; he Taught as he Believ'd, that nothing of Evil could happen to a Good Man, his Concerns being taken Care of by the Gods; but notwithstanding his Eloquent, perswasive Spee&rehy;ches upon so Noble a Subject, as Vertue, which for its own Sake, ought to attract Mens Inclinations, and Affections; the Athenians were so far from Reforming from their Accustom'd Immoralities, that Miletus, Anytus, and others, accused him, as Guilty of a Capital Crime, for Instructing the People in the ways of Vertue, and for Reproving them, when they Acted contrary to Morality and good Manners: They were so Exasperated aganst him for his Good En&rehy;deavours to introduce Honesty and Piety, Inconsistent with their Practice, that without a Confronting Witness, they Condemn'd him to Death; which Sentence was put in Execution by a Draught of Poyson. By which Barbarous usage, 'tis Apparent that all his Teach&rehy;ing signified little towards the Reformation of the Lives of his Fellow Citizens.

Tho Licentiousness is more agreeable, and facile to the deprav'd Nature of Mankind; yet almost every Age hath produc'd a Preach&rehy;ing Experienc'd Solomon, a Socrates, a Plato, or some such Good Men, who have Endeavour'd by Writing and Teaching, back'd with the Inducing Reasons of a present Serenity of Mind, that must upon Necessity Accompany Vertuous Actions, or the Glorious Prospect of an Unconceivable Reward hereafter; to perswade Men by Argu&rehy;ments, Conducing to self Interest, (which in all other Cases is prevai&rehy;lent) to Practice Piety, Honesty and Civility, yet what poor Crops have the Stony Soil produc'd, every Age against it self is Witness. The Libertinism of an Heathen, I don't so much wonder at, because he has no Thoughts of Futurity to Check his Mad Career; but that Men who are dayly Taught, and Instructed in Piety, and Morality, and who upon a Self-query, will own that they really Believe to do Good, is for their Advantage, should Act directly contrary to their Belief, is an Extravagant Madness, not to be parallell'd: Is there no Remedy for so Great, and Contagious an Evil to be found? Yes, an Heathen teaches me one, Trahimur Exemplis Plus Quam Præceptis; for if those in Power and Greatness Practised Vertue, the Underlings would Imitate; if 'twere Customary, every one would be in the Fashion: But whilst Vice and Immorality are Countenanc'd by the Great, Or&rehy;ders for keeping the Sabbath, and against Prophanness, are of little Efficacy; for when the great Fish break the Net, the little ones will go out at the Rent. Tho' arguing for Vertue, and good Manners, is highly to be Commended, yet the little Reformation we find, shows that hitherto it has signified Little or Nothing.

&Oic;NE, who out of Good Manners, I must stile a Gentleman, because he justly Claims that Title from his Ancestors; and it must be allow'd him now, even in his Adversity, since his Accounted Crimes of Omission, in not actually complying to the Laws in force, proceed from the Dictates of his Conscience, and not from an Obstinate Spirit of Contradiction; for tho' this Gentle&rehy;mans Opinion will not permit him to comply in the Active part, yet out of Submission to the Laws of his Countrey, without re&rehy;fractoriness, he's Obedient in the Passive. This Gentleman (as many others) is at this time term'd a Jacobite, as being the title Custo&rehy;marily used, in Opposition to Williamite; concluding, that he that is not for me, is against me.

Upon the Revolution in the Year 1688, (which by Unfathom'd Providence was brought about, so contrary to Rational Appearance, that after Ages will hesitate at the Belief of the Heroick Attempts of the present King, and the Unaccountable Manage of the last) this Man was turn'd out of several Considerable Imploys, (or rather he turn'd himself out, for it cannot be expected, that any will be Master (unless by Power to those that will not serve them) strip'd of his Incomes, he for a while handsomly subsisted; but feeding con&rehy;stantly upon last Years Crop, without Sowing for another Harvest, his Granary was Empted without hopes of Replenishing, without a Miracle, Reduc'd; he herded with those of his own Opinion, that by the Benevolence of Fortune were able to relieve him, and did Generously for a time; but continual Dependance made him sensi&rehy;ble of the Bitterness of the Curse: The Undervaluing Slights, the tyring Attendance, often Refusals, beggarly Loans, Reprimands, Ad&rehy;vice too late given, all which, with appearing Patience, by force he was oblig'd (if he would Eat) to undergo, made him almost distract&rehy;ed in his Thoughts. The impending Misery of want by its near ap&rehy;proach, appearing Dreadful and Afrightning, put him upon the Studious Thoughts, how to subsist for the future. He considered the many reasons drawn from self Interest, and other Powerful Motives, for Conforming to the present Government; the general Consent, and Practice of many, whose Learning and Integrity he could not call in question (unless he should Contradict his own Experience) made him bring his Manage into Examination, and his Rational Arguments made him often Waver, and query the Prudence of his Opinion; so far, that he had some thoughts of Conforming to what the Representatives of the Nation had agreed; but having so long stood out, he could have no hopes of being received with that fa&rehy;vour, so as to be trusted in any considerable Imploy; either Civil, Military, or Ecclesiastical; he was too Poor, and of too little Inte&rehy;rest, to expect an Honourable Title; too Illiterate to be made a Dean, too well known to be trusted with the Managing of a Secret in National Affairs; so he struck to his old Principals tho' he reap'd no Ad&rehy;vantage by them, for Poverty like Ivie twines to the Jacobite, and spoils his Growth; his Opinion Contradicting in general, to the Sen&rehy;timents of the greatest part of the Nation, was so far from being any ways Advantagious to him, that it expos'd him to want; and debar'd him from the hopes of repairing his Ruined Fortunes.

&Tic;HIS Story is equally applicable to Jacobite, Williamite, Wigg, Tory, or what other Name of Distinction is given to a&rehy;ny Man, who Rows not with the common Stream that the Ri&rehy;ver of his Country runs; he tugs against the Tide, and makes very little Progress. To oppose the General Sentiments of a Country, is drawing up-hill by choice, and gives just cause for People to call a Man's Judgment in Question, since there is a nearer, and down-hill beaten Path at Hand; 'tis something like going in the Strand, towards the Horse-Guard, on a Sunday in the Evening, when one has the trouble of meeting the Current of the City Gentry, going from the Park; he that complies not to the Practice of a Nation, appears like one in a Sad-colour&rehy;ed Coat, bearing Arms amongst the Guard at White-hall, he is star'd at; and if observ'd by a Superior, will be Punished.

Relating to a Man's Compliance, or Non-Compliance, ought to be considered; whether what required be consonant to Ju&rehy;ice, and Self-Preservation, argued Pro and Con, in refference to Spiritual, and Temporal Affairs, the last not contradicting the formers positive Commands. And sure I am, or must appear to be, by rational Men, much Wiser, or more Blockish, than the rest of the Nation, in a General Council consenting, if I oppose, or refuse Conformity to its Agreement. Parallel Examples ought to be search'd for, and the method of Proceedings, that have been commonly taken by others, approv'd by future Allowance to have been Just, and fitting to be done, ought to Guide, and mightily Sway me to concord to such approv'd Precedents; for if a Man disagrees out of a particular Opinion, or Interest, he, as far as in him lyes, calls the discretion of a great many in Question, and battles a number with his opiniated Reason, from such Proceeding, one can expect no Benefit, or Reputation. No Advantage, because none will trust another (in any thing of Weight) that is of a contrary Perswasion; because 'tis reasonable to believe, that every Man is inclinable to act what sutes best to his Fancy, and most conducing to bring to effect his desired Aim: So, instead of serving that Interest by which in&rehy;trusted, to gratify his real Sentiments, he'll betray the secrets to him committed.

What is in Vogue carries a present Reputation, (than being a Jacobite) must consequently cause an undervaluing, and so Sig&rehy;nify Little, or Nothing.&rehy;

&Aic; Grave Citizen, an Alderman's Fellow, by Losses and Cros&rehy;ses, and GOD knows what, was reduc'd to the necessity of leaving his House, and moving himself and Effects into the Sanctuary for Bankrupts, White-Fryars; where, for a while he confin'd himself to his Chamber, and when he went out, the Company seasoned to the Place, who were no proud Men, but would quickly be acquainted without Ceremony, made him asham'd, and blush like a young Sinner, the Curtains undrawn; with care he soon cast up his Books; and substracting his Deb&rehy;tors from his Creditors; he found a greater Ballance due than he was able to pay; but willing (as 'tis natural for all Crea&rehy;tures) to be at Liberty, he summoned his Creditors, and of&rehy;fered them ten Shillings for every Pound, reserving for him&rehy;self but a small Pittance to subsist on, or lay a new Founda&rehy;tion for fresh Credit: But some (Jews in Practice) refus'd a Compliance to any Abatement, and resolved to make Dice of his Bones: Their Cruelty griev'd and afflicted him so much, that his Sorrow and Concern was apparent in his Face; and being ask'd the Reason, he told that his Creditors Non-com&rehy;pliance was the cause of it; upon which, a Doctor in the Ci&rehy;vil Laws of the Place, took him to Task; told him his Secu&rehy;rity there; brought Examples and Precedents how Tom such an one, and Sir John such an one, had us'd their Creditors, and brought them to Compliance: Unmerciful Rogues! What? Refuse to take Ten Shillings in the Pound? If I might advise you, they should not have above half a Crown; I intend to give mine but Eighteen Pence; sure you are not such a Fool to part with all, and suffer your self and Family to want: Such Company, such Examples, such Documents have wash'd a&rehy;way the honest first Intents of many a Man, but it could not flote his; for he still design'd, to his Power, to satisfy every Body; but unwilling to be Caged in a closer Prison, he there Liv'd; and spending upon the main Stock constantly, it wast&rehy;ed so fast, that at his next Proposal to his Creditors, he could offer but Five Shillings, which was also rejected: And some time after not being watchful of his Ways, the Catchpoles siez'd him at the Suit of an old protesting Friend of his, a Neigh&rehy;bour, for whom he would sent, hoping Mercy from their for&rehy;mer intimate Acquaintance; but the Officers telling him 'twould be to no purpose, since that Warrant which they nam'd to him, was but one amongst Twenty they had against him; so after squeezing him out of Twenty Shillings for Dinner, Ale, and Brandy, they lodged him in the Compter; where his Fellow&rehy;Prisoners flock'd about him, some pulling this way, some that, like Water-men at turn of Ebb at Billinsgate, all calling for Garnish, which clamorous demand never ceased till he had paid it. The want of Liberty made him value it more than ever, and desiring next to Life his Liberty; he with Prayers intreated his Creditors to accept of all that he had, but they refused it, and would not believe that he gave a true or just account, though he offer'd to make Oath of it; so, be lying there, the poor Man for Necessaries consumed, what merciful men would have been contented with, when the Parliament, out of Consideration of the Misery that many (not able to pay their Debts) in Pri&rehy;son endured, ordered a Discharge upon such and such Condi&rehy;tions, under the which he was comprehended, and consequent&rehy;ly discharged, without paying one Farthing; whereas, if the Creditors had formerly comply'd, they might have had half their Debts, and the Man his Liberty; so their confining him prov'd their Detriment. And the like happen to others, when the Insolvent Die in Custody; for where 'tis not to be had, the King must loose his Right.

&Sic;UCH have been the Fate of many Insolvent Debtors; and such have prov'd the Return to many uncharitable and cruel Creditors; and I believe all merciful Men will think the last deserv'd it: Expectation to recover Debts by confining an insolvent Man, whereby he is debar'd of opportunity to acquire wherewithal to pay his Debts, is an Ægyptian Proposal, To make Brick without Straw, quod ultra posse, now est esse.

'Tis a very good Law in the Signiory of Biscay, that no Na&rehy;tive Biscayner shall be Imprisoned for Debt above Forty Eight Hours; but the Creditor in that time shall have Judgment a&rehy;gainst whatsoever Effects shall be found to be his, or what af&rehy;terwards he either by Labour, Art, or otherwise shall acquire, yet upon giving Security, not to depart the Signiory, he shall be discharged out of Custody, to get his Livelihood.

&Tic;HO' I could produce variety of Instances out of Ancient History suitable to this Subject, yet I have chose one which has come to the knowledge, and is still fresh in the Memory of almost every English Man, to show the little Trust and Con&rehy;fidence that is to be given to the solemn Promises of Secrecy in a Conspiracy, or wicked Design.

In the Year 169 several angry discontented Men club'd to the hatching a Plot or Conspiracy for subverting the present Government; and for the more certainty of effecting it, de&rehy;signed, contrary to Honour, and common Humanity, to take off the present Head, that the Limbs might be in Confusion, want&rehy;ing an immediate Director for their Motion, so in the hurly burly to have Proclaimed one, who unhappily has too much Pro&rehy;claimed himself.

There is no need of mentioning their Design at large, or the Progress they had made, every Man knowing the drift of their Conspiracy, and the Conspirators; so I'll only take No&rehy;tice, that after their Plot was laid, the Assassinators agreed on, and Secrecy sworn to, at the Sun-Tavern, and other Places, some of them (false, first to their Country, then to their Adherents) discovered the Conspiracy. I wish 'twere done out of a repen&rehy;tant Principle, and believing a Promise to do Evil ought not to be kept; but their covetous siliciting for Rewards induce me to believe, that the Principle of Self-interest was the chief Mo&rehy;tive of their Discovery; but let it proceed from what cause soever, 'tis apparent, that the Obligations under which they were engaged, were not of Force to keep the Secret undisco&rehy;vered; The like Discoveries have been made at Venice, at Rome, at Genoua, and in almost all the the Kingdoms on the Earth; tho' the greatest Cautions and Securities that Self-pre&rehy;servation, or aspiring Ambition could invent, to tye up the confessing Tongue, have been made use of; he that will be a Villain in attempting a great Evil, is not to be trusted; for 'tis probable he will be so in a lesser, especially if he expects ro reap advantage by it.

&Sic;ELDOM any Resolution is so fix'd, but that apparent be&rehy;nefit, as Self-preservation, or Riches, will alter it, especially when the Resolve is evil, for no Man, though never so much prompted by Ambition, Avarice, Lust or Revenge, but has a Moni&rehy;tor within, which Dictates to him, that his Resolve and Attempt is Evil in it self; and from what one's Reason informs to be bad, a Man is easily drawn from Effecting: So we find many Men who dare undaunted, look Death in the Face in a just Cause, will Recant and appear Cowards, when Ill is to be attempted, from whence has proceeded many Discoveries of Plots and Conspiracies, to the Se&rehy;crecie of which, Men have Oblig'd themselves by all the Tyes that are counted Sacred and Binding; such are to be counted Repent&rehy;ants, because they discover the Design out of an Odium to the Evil. But some, without Considering Good or Evil, in Relation to Futu&rehy;rity, discover the secret Conspiracies with them intrusted, not for Conscience, but for Lucre sake, others when their first Heat is over, grow Pusilanimous, and confess to save their Lives; sometimes infi&rehy;nite Wisdom confounds their Councils and Devices, lead them into Errors and Mistakes, and by ways unimaginable, bring to Light the hidden things of Darkness.