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This text has been proofread but is not guaranteed to be free from errors. Corrections to the original text have been left in place.
Title: The Gentlewoman's Companion: or, A Guide to the Female Sex, an electronic edition
Author: Woolley, Hannah, fl. 1670
Publisher: Printed by A. Maxwell for Edward Thomas
Place published: 
Date: 1675
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The Epistle Dedicatory   To all Young Ladies, Gentlewomen, and all
Maidens  whatever. I have formerly sent forth amongst you two little books; the first
called,  The Ladies Directory   the other,  The Cooks Guide   both which have found very good
acceptance.   It is near seven years since I began to write this book,
at  the desire of the Bookseller, and earnest intreaties of very many
worth  friends; unto whom I owe more than I can do for them.  And when
I  considered the great need of such a book as might be a   Universal Companion and Guide to the Female Sex, 
in all relations,  Companies, Conditions, and states of Life even from
Childhood down to Old  age; and from the Lady at the Court, to the
Cook-maid in the Country:  I  was at length prevailed upon to do it,
and the rather  because I knew not  of any Book in any Language that
hath done the like.  Indeed many  excellent Authors there be who have
wrote excellent well of some  particular Subjects herein treated of.
But as there is not one of them  hath written upon all of them; so
there are some things treated of in  this Book, that I have not met
with in any Language, but are the Product  of my Thirty years
Observations and Experience.I will not deny but I have made some use of that Excellent Book,
The  Queens Closet; May's Cookery; The Ladies Companion; my own
Directory and Guide; Also,  the second part of Youth's Behaviour, and
what other Books I thought pertinent and  proper to make up a Compleat
Book, that might have an Universal Usefulness; and to that  end I did
not only make use of them, but also of all others, especially those
that have  been lately writ in the French and Italian Languages.  For
as the things treated of are  many and various, so were my Helps.I hope the Reader will not think it much, that as the famous Limner
when he drew the Picture of an Exact Beauty, made use of an Eye from
one, of a Mouth from  another; and so call'd what ware rare in all
others, that he might present them all in  one entire piece of
workmanship and Frame: So I, when I was to write of Physick and
Chirurgery, have consulted all Books I could meet with in that kind,
to compleat  my own  Experiences.If any shall wonder why I have been so large upon it, I must tell
them, I look upon the end of Life to be Usefulness; nor know I wherein
our Sex can be more  useful in their Generation than having a
competent skill in Playsick and Chirurgery, a  competent Estate to
distribute it, and a Heart will thereunto.The like Apology I have for my Prolixity about Cookery and Carving,
which being essential to a true Housewife, I thought it best to dwell
most upon that  which they cannot dwell without, unless they design to
render themselves  insignificant, not only in the world, but in those
Families where they are.As for what concerns Gentlewomans Behaviour, I have the concurrent
advice and directions of the most able Professors and Teachers, both
here and beyond  the Seas; yet durst not be so airy and light in my
Treatise about Ladies Love and  Courtship as some of the French
Authors have been, but have taken out of them what I found  most
taking with our English Gentry.  The like I may say for Habits and
Gesture; I am not  ignorant of the vanity of some Mens stiles upon
these Subjects; and that young Ladies are  too apt to take what may
gratifie their Fancies, and leave what may better their  Judgments
about true Behaviour.I know I may be censured by many for undertaking this great Design,
in  presenting to all of our Sex a compleat Directory, and that which
contains several Sciences: deeming it a Work for a Solomon, who could
give an account from the Cedar to the  Hysop.  I have therefore in my
Apology to the Bookseller, declared ho I came to be of  Ability to do
it, reciting to him the grounds of my knowledg in all those Sciences I
profess and also what practice and experience I have had in the World,
left any should think I  speak more than I am able to perform.  I
doubt not but judicious persons will esteem this  Essay of mine, when
they have read the Book, and weighed it well; and if so, I shall the
less trouble my self what the ignorant do or say.I have now done my Task,  & shall leave it to your candid Judgments
and Improvement; your Acceptation will much encourage  Your Most
humble  Servant, Hannah Woolly. The Introduction The right Education of the Female
Sex, as it is in a manner everywhere  neglected, so it ought to be
generally lamented.  Most in this depraved later Age think a  Coman
learned and wife enough if she can distinguish her Husbands Ben from
anothers.  Centainly Mans Coul cannot boast of a more sublime Original
than ours, they had equally  their esslux from the same eternal
Immensity, and therefore capable of the same  improvement by good
Education.  Vain man is apt to think we were meerly intended for the
Worlds propagation, and to keep its humane inhabitants sweet and
clean; but, by  their leaves, had we the fame Literature, he would
find our brains as fruitful as our  bodies.  Hence I am induced to
believe, we are debarred from the knowledg of humane learning,  left
our pregnant Wits should rival

to wring conceits of our insulting Lords and Masters.Pardon the Severity of this expression, since I intend not thereby
to  insose bitter Rebellion into the sweet blood of Females; for know,
I ould have all such  as are enter'd into the honourable state of
Matrimony to be loyal and loving Subjects to  their lawful (thought
lording) Husbands.  I cannot but complain of, and must condemn  the
great negligence of Parents, in letting the fertile ground of their
Daughters  lie sallow, yet send the barren Noddles of their Sons to
the University.  Where they stay for  no other purpose than to fill
their empty Sconces with idel notions to make a  noise in the
Country.Pagans of old may reach out.  Christian Parents a new lesson.
Edesia,  an infidel, taught her Daughters Learning and Morality.
Cornelia,  hers (with the Greek Tongue) piety.  Portia, hers (with the
learning of  the Egyptians) the exemplary grounds of Chastity,
Sulpitia, hers (with the knowledg of several Languages) the precepts
of  conjugal Unity.  These, though Ethnicks, were excellent informers
of youth; so that their  Children were more bound to them for their
breeding than bearing, nurturing than  nursing.  Emulation of goodness
is most commendable; and though you cannot hang up the pictures  of
these worthy persons, so that their Children were more bound to them
for their  breeding than bearing, nurturing than nursing.  Emulation
of goodness is most  commendable; and though you cannot hang up the
pictures of these worthy persons, so that their  memories may live
with you; however, imitate their Virtues, that their memories may live
fresher in you.  All memorials, being materials, be they never so
durable, are subject to  frailty; on the precious monuments of Virtue
survive time, and breath eternity.  
Thus as ye take good example from others, be ye Mother-patterns of
Virtue to your Daughters: Let your living actions be lines of their
direction.  While  they are under your command, the error is yours not
theirs, if they go astray.  Their honour  should be one of the
chiefest things you are to tender, neither can it be blemish'd without
some soil to your own credit.I have know some inconsiderate Mothers and those none of the lowest
rank and quality, who either out of the confidence of their Daughters
good carriage, or drawn with the hopes of some rich Suitors to advance
their Marriage, have usually given too free way to opportunity, which
brought upon their Daughters name a spreading infamy.  Suffer not then
those who partake of your image, to lose their best beauty.  Look then
to your own actions, these must inform them look to your own examples,
these must  confirm them:  Without you, they cannot perish; with you
they may.  What will you do  with the rest that is left, when you see
a part of your self lost.There is no instruction more moving, than the example of your
living.   By that line of yours they are to conform their own.  Take
heed then lest the damp of  your own life extinguish the light of your
Childrens.  As you are a kind Mother to them  be a careful Monitor
about them; and if your business will permit, teach them your  self,
with their letters, good manners.  For there is an in-bread, filial
fear in Children  to their Parents, which will beget in them more
attention in hearing, and retention in  holding what they hear.  But
if it be inconsistent with your conveniency, and that

you must commit the Tutelage and Education of your Children to a
Governess, give me leave to inform you what she ought to
be. The duty and qualification of a Governess to  Gentlemen's
Children
They who undertake the difficult Employ of being an Instructress or
Governess of Children should be persons of no mean birth and breeding,
civil in  deportment, and of an extraordinary winning and pleasing
conversation.  They should not be  harsh in expression, nor severe in
correcting such as are under their charge; but instruct  them with all
mildness, cheerfully incouraging them in what they are injin'd to
perform; not  suddenly striking, nor startling them with a loud
rebuke, which causeth in some an oversees to  what they should love,
embittering all the former delight they had in learning.   Whereas  if
you woe them with soft words, you will soon find them won by the
testimony of their  good works.There is so much servility in rigor and restraint, that of
consequence  there can be no greater enemy to Ingenuity and good
nature.  Fools are to be always bald  upon, and blows are fitter for
beasts than rational creatures; wherefore there can  northing more
engage an ingenious generous soul, than cheerfulness and liberty; not
over-frightened.  I have often observed the many ill consequences
which attends an unadvised severity.   A Gentlewoman of my
acquaintance, who was well-born and bred, and every way
accomplisht for a Tutoress to young Ladies, lost all her employment in

that faulty, by her irresistible passion.  Another in Dorsetshire
being  somewhat aged, and suspecting her strength was not able to
grapple with  active youth call'd up her mail to her assistance, with
whose help she so  cruelly chastised a young Gentlewoman for some
fault she had committed,  that with grief and shame, she died in a
little time after.  Many more  instances I could insert, but I shall
forbear to publish further the  shame of such inconsiderate
rashness. As I must condemn the insolent severity of such a Governess, so I
must  not let pass without reproof the tyranny of some Mothers, whose
presence makes their  Children tremble, without the commission of a
fault, by which means they many  times with their imperviousness
frighten their love into an abhorrency of their fight, to  be sure
they make them tell many a lye to excuse their negligence, (which
otherwise they  would not do) only that for that time they might
escape the rigor of their punishment.  Yet  I would not have any
mistake me in my perswading young Gentlewomen to be used mildly, and
tenderly, that I intend thereby their over-indulgence, so as to let
their tender age rust in sloth and vanity; all that I would have a
Mother do, is, that she would be moderate  in the correction of an
offence, left by correcting one she commit another, and so  transgress
that positive command in holy Writ, Parents provoke not your children
to wrath.A Governess is to study diligently the nature, disposition, and
inclination of those she is to teach; and so by suiting their humours,
make their study the more facile, by how much it is more pleasant 

to them, praising such and such of their own age that are thus and
thus  qualified, which will breed in them an emulation to tread in
their  footsteps.  If she finds any addicted to reading let her ask
the  question, What she thinks of such a Book she hath read: by the
answer she  may easily conjecture at the strength of her intellect: If
she find her a  lover of conversation, it will not b amiss to ask what
she thinks of such  a Gentlewoman or Gentleman whose Virtues she hath
a great esteem for,  when she hath return'd an answer to the demand,
let the Governess require  a reason for her so saying, which in the
approving or condemning will not  only make the Scholar cautious of
what she delivers, but give a great  insight both into her disposition
and understanding.Whatever she doth, let her have a special care in obstructing the
growth of evil manners, and in graft the good, still in the very birth
those corruptions which will grow in the purest natures without an
indefatigable circumspection.Countenance not an untruth by any means, especially if they stand
in  it; this is a very great Vice and argues an inclination impudently
vicious: There is a fault  contrary to this, and shall be reckoned in
the number of infirmities, which by an  over-modesty, and too much
bashfulness, a young Maid cannot hold up her head when spoken to;  and
if askt a question, would blush, as if by some gross miscarriage she
had lately  contracted a guilt.  This sudden alteration of the
countenance may breed an underserv'd  suspition, and therefore it
ought to be corrected discreetly with good instruction.   Favour not
obstinacy by any means, for flattery 

in this café will spoil the Gentlewoman.Be the incessant tormentor of her sloth, left by proving burdensome
to  others, she at length becomes so to her self, by which means her
understanding starves,  and her body contracts an Hospital of
Diseases.  This you may remedy by suffering her  nor to sleep over
long, left the spirits be over-dull'd, as well as by too little
rest.If  the season be dry, walk them in the fields; if not, some
moderate  exercise within doors, which will be instrumental in keeping
them from  the knowledg of the Physician.  And now since Nature only
gives us a  being; and Education, a well-being; the Parent or
Governess ought to have a special care how she seasons youth with what
is  most conductible to the orderly and prudent management of the
concerns of this  life; let such a Foundation be therefore laid which
may sufficiently promise the Parents a  happy issue, when their
Children shall arrive to maturity of age.Letters undoubtedly is the fist step to the perfection of knowled,
by  which means they come to improve their own understandings by the
help of others: Reading,  furisheth them with agreeable discourse, and
adapts them for the conversation of the  most ingenious, without which
I know not how the fancy can be supplied with what is  acceptable to
the Auditor.  How little would conversation signifie, did not reading
on all  occasions find matter for discourse.  The want of which hath
made so many Country  Gentlewomen stand like so many Mutes or Statues
when they have hapried into the  company of the ingenious; their
quaint expressions have seem'd to them 

Arabian sentences; and have stated like so many distracted persons, in
that they should hear the sound of English, and yet understand but
here  and there a word of their own language.  The consideration
hereof is  sufficient one would think to make the preposterous
suspitions of some to  vanish, who vainly imagine that Books are
Womens Academies, wherein they  learn to do evil with greater subtilry
and cunning; whereas the helps of  Learning, which are attained from
thence, not only fortifies the best  inclinations, but enlargeth a
mean capacity to a great perfection.Having thus proved, That the reading Books doth much conduce to the
improving the understanding of young Gentlewomen, it behoverth the
Governess to be  careful in her choice of them.  In the first place
let them read some choice pieces of  Piety, which may inflame their
hearts with the love of God, and kindle in them ardent  desires to be
early followers of the Doctrine of Christ Jesus.  Let there be a
strict watch  to keep unviolated the two gates  of the Soul, the Ears
and Eyes; let the last be imployed  on good and proper Subjects, and
there will be the less fear that the Ears should be  surpriz'd by the
conerse of such who delight in wanton and obscene discourses, which
too often do  pleasantly and privately insinuate themselves into the
Ear, carrying with them that  unwholsome air which infects and poysons
the purity of the Soul.  I know it will be expected what sort of Books of Piety, I would
recommend to the perusual of these Gentlewomen; London affords such
plenty of them, I know  not which to pitch on.  Not to trouble you 

with too many, take these which follow: Bishop Ushers Body of Divinity
Mr. Swinnocks Christian calling.  Mr. Firmins Real Christian.
Mr. James  Faneways book, Intituled, Acquaintance with God be-times;
and his Token  for Children when they are young.Some may imagine, that to read Romances after such practical Books
of  Divinity, will not only be a vain thing, but will absolutely
overthrow  that fabrick I endeavoured to erect: I am of a contrary
opinion, and do believe such Romnaces which treat of  Generosity,
Gallantry, and Virtue, as Cassandra, Clelia, Grand Cyrus, Cleopatra,
Parthenissa, not omitting Sir Philip Sydney's Arcadia, are Books
altogether worthy of  their Observation.  There are few Ladies
mention'd therein, but are character's what they  ought to be the
magnanimity, virtue, gallantry, patience, constancy, and curage of the
men, might intitle them worthy Husbands to the most deserving of the
female sex.  Thus  having qualified them for reading, you should so
practice them in their pengas nor to be  ignorant in a Point de
Venice, & all the Productions of the Needle, with all the curious
devices of Wal-mark, Rock-work, Moss work, Cabinet-work, Beugle-work,
etc. and in due time let  them know how to Prserve, Conserve, Dissil;
with all those laudable Sciences which  adorn a compleat
Gentlewoman.Having thus characteriz'd in part, what a Governess ought to be, I
shall with your leave and patience give you some account of my
self. A Short account of the life and abilities of
               Authoress of this Book: I would not presume to trouble you with
any passages of my life, or  relate my innate qualifications, or
acquired, were it not in obedience to a Person of  Honour, who engag'd
me so to do, if for no other reason than to stop the mouths of such
who  may be so maliciously censorious as to believe I pretend what I
cannot perform.It is no ambitious design of gaining a Name in print (a thing as
rare  for a Woman to endeavour, as obtain) that put me on this bold
undertaking; but the meer  pity I have entertain'd for such Ladies,
Gentlewomen, and others, as have not  received the benefits of the
tythe of the ensuing Accomplishments.  These ten years and upwards, I
have studied how to repair their loss of time, by making publick those
gifts which God  hath bestow'd upon.  To be useful in our Generation
is partly the intent of our  Creation; I shall then arrive to the top
of the Pyramid of my Contentment, if any shall profit  by this
following Discourse.  If any question the truth of what I can perform,
their trail  of me I doubt not but will convince their infidelity.The things I pretend greatst skill in, are all works wrought with a
Needle, all Transparent works, Shell-work, Moss work, also cutting of
Prints, and adorning Rooms, or Cabinets, or Stands with them.All kinds of Beugle-works upon Wyers, or otherwise.  

All manner of pretty toyes for Closets.  Rocks made with Shells, or in
Sweets.  Frames for Looking  glasses, Pictures, or the like.  Feathers
of Crewel for the corner of Beds.  Preferring all  kind of Sweet-meats
wet and dry.  Setting out of Banquest.  Making Salves, Oyntments,
Waters,  Cordials; healing any woulds not desperately dangerous.
Knowledg in discerning the  Symptomes of most Diseases, and giving
such remedies as are fit in such cases.  All  manner of Cookery.
Writing and Arithmetick.  Washing black or white Sarsnets.   Making
sweet Powders for the Hair, or to lay among Linnen.  All these and
several  thing beside, too tedious here to relate.   I shall be ready
to impart to those who are  desirous to learn.  Now to the intent I may increase your wonder, I shall relate how I
came to the knowledg of what I profess.  When I was fourteen years
old, I  began to consider how I might improve my time to the best
advantage, not  knowing at that age any thing but what reason and
fancy distated to me.  Before I was Fifteen I was intrusted to  keep a
little School, and was the sole Mistress thereof.  This course of life
I  continued till the age of Seventeen, when my extraordinary parts,
appear'd more splendid in the  eyes of a Noble Lady in this Kingdom,
than really they deserv'd, who praising my works  with the appellation
of curious pieces 

of Art, was infinitely pleas'd therewith.  But understanding withal,
that I understood indifferently the smoth Italian, and could  sing,
dance and play on several sorts of Musical Instruments, she took me
from my School, and  greedily entertained me in her house as Governess
of her only Daughter.  Unto this  honourable Person I am indebted for
the basis, or ground-work of my Preserving and  Cookery, by my
observation of what she order'd to be done.  By this Ladies means I
came  acquainted with the Court, with a deportment suitable
thereunto.The death of this Lady gave me a fit opportunity to be entertain'd
by  another no way inferiour to the former, with whom I lived seven
years.  At first I was  Governess to those of her Children, whose
forward virtue sufficiently declared the goodness  of the flock from
whence they came.  Time and my Ladies good opinion of me, constituted
me  afterwards her Woman, her Stewardess, and her Scribe or Secretary.
By which means I  appear'd as a person of no mean authority in the
Family.  I kept an exact account of  what was spent in the house.  And
as I profited in Externals; so I treasured up things  necessary for my
understanding, having an happy opportunity so to do, not only by
hearing  that ingenious and agreeable discourse interfac'd between my
Lady and Persons of Honour,  but also by inditing all her Letters; in
the framing and well fashioning of which  (that I might increase my
Ladies esteem) I took indefatigable pains.  There were not any who
both wittily and wifely had publisht their Epistles to view of the
world, whom I had not  read, and on 

all occasions did consult: those which I placed in my greatest esteem
were the Letters of Mr. Ford, Mr. Howel, Mr. Loveday, and Monsieur
Voiture.But that which most of all increast my knowledg was my daily
reading  to My Lady, Poems of all sorts and Plays, teaching me as I
read, there to place my  accents, how to raise and fall my vice, where
lay the Emphasis of the expressions.   Romances of the best sort she
took great delight in; and being very well verst in the  propriety of
the French Tongue, there was not any thing published by the Virtuosi
of France,  which carefully and chargeable she procur'd not; this put
me upon the understanding of that  Language, she was so well
experienc'd therein, which is as great an Ornament for young  Ladies
as those learned Tongues, of which the Academical studioso boasts a
more than  common understanding.Here as I learned hourly courtly phrases and graces, so how to
express  my self with the attendency of a becoming air.  And as I
gather'd how to  manage my tongue gracefully, and discreetly; so I
thought it irrequisice  to let my hands lye idle.  I exercise then
daily in carrying at Table.  And when any fad accident required their
help in  Physick and Chyrurgery, I was ready t be assisting; in those
two excellent arts in  this place I acquired a competent knowledg.In short time I became skilful, and stayed enough to order an
house,  and all Offices belonging to it; and gained so great an esteem
among the Nobility and  Gentry of two Counties, that I was
necessitated to yield to the importunity of one I  dearly lov'd that I
might free my self from the tedious caresses of a many more.
In the time I was a Wife, I had frequent occasions to make use of all
or most of my aforenamed qualities; and what I exercised not within my
own roof, I used  among my neighbours, friends and acquaintants.That which qualified me as a Governess for Children as well as
anything yet I have mention'd, was the great knowledg I had in the
humours, inclinations, and  dispositions of Children, having often had
at one time above threescore in number under  my tuition.Besides, as I have been the Mistris of many Servants, so I have
qualified them with my instructions to be Mistress to others; the
major  part of them living very comfortably in a married condition.As I have taken great pains for an honest livelihood, so that hand
of  the Almighty hath exercised me in all manner of Afflitions, by
death of Parents when very  young, by loss of Husband, Children,
Friends, Estate, very much sickness, by which I was  disenabled from
my Employment.  Having already given you an account of the duty, and
requisite, endowments which ought to be in a Governess, and how
qualified I was my  self in that troublesome concern; I shall now
proceed in giving young Ladies such  Rules which long experience and
observation have taught me, which my be as their perfect  guide in all
ages and conditions, the practise whereof will assuredly imbalm their
names  here: let their stedfast faith in Jesus Christ only crown them
with glory hereafter. Good
Instructions for a young Gentlewoman, from  the age of Six to
Sixteen. Shall suppose your Parents have not
been so remiss in their duties as not  to furnish your tender age with
what it is capable of understanding; and therefore do not question but
that you can read well, sow and write indifferently; but I would have,
long  before you arrive at your teens, your first age water'd with the
wholsome and found doctrine  of fearing God.   Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, 
that thou mayst have, with David, in thy later days, this comfortable
testimony of thy felt, From my youth up have I loved
thyLaw. I cannot bewail enough the careless neglect of Parents in this
matter,  who think neither God nor Nature doth tye them to further
regard of their Children than to  afford them food, and make them
strut in the fashion, learn them to dance and sing,  and lastly lay up
a considerable sum for some person whom they value by his greatness,
nor  his goodness; but how far that care falls short of what is
required from Parents, I  appeal to the sad effects thereof,
profaneness towards God, and a contempt of his People  and not only a
daily breach of his holy Laws, but the Laws of a civil Society.Above all things, let the fear of God be improved in you.  Omit not
by  any means the duty of Prayer, Morning and Evening; and forget not
to read some portion  of the Scripture every day.Be very cautious in the choice of your Companions, 

and when your age adapts you for Society, have a care with whom you
associate.  If you tender your repute, you must beware with whom you
consort, for report will bruit what you are by the company which you
bear.  Would you then preserve those precious odours of your good name
consort with such whose names were never branded, converse with such
whose tongues for immodesty were never taxed.  As by good words evil
manners are corrected; so by evil words, are good ones corrupted.Make no reside there where the least occasion of lightness is
ministred; avert your ear when you hear it, but your heart especially,
left you harbour it.It is proverbially said, Maids should be seen,
not  heard; not that they should not speak, but that they should
not be  too talkative.  A Travelier sets himself out best by
discourse, but a  Maid is best set out by silence.For your carriage, let it be in a Mediocrity, neither too precise,
not  too free.  These simpring, made-faces, partake more of
Chamber-maid than Gentlewoman.Being grown up, you may possibly be wooed to interchange Favours;
Rings on Ribbands may seem trifles, yet trust me they are no trisles
that are aim'd at in  those exchanges.  Wherefore let nothing pass
from you that may any way impeach you, or give  others advantage over
you.  It is probable that your innocent credulity may be  free from
the conceit of ill as theirs from the intention of good? But these
intercourses of Courtesies are not to be admitted, left by this
familiarity an entry 

to affection be opened which before was closed.  It is dangerous to
enter  parley with a beleaguring-enemy; it implies want of weakness in
the  besieged.Presuming on your own strength is a great weakness; and the ready
way  to betray your self to dangers, is to contemn them.  Presumption
is a daring sin, and  ever brings out some untimely birth, which,
Viper-like, is the destruction of its Parent.  I  shall desist here in
this place from giving you more rules of caution and good behaviour
having design'd another, wherein I intend a more copious
relation. Advice to the Female youngersort:
Incline not to sloth, and love not to laze in bed, but rise early;
having  drest your self with decency and cleanliness, prostrate your
self in all humility upon your  bended knees before God Almighty,
beseeching his Infinite Majesty to forgive you  whatever sins you have
committed in deed, word or thought; begging protection from the sin
and evil of that day, and his holy assistance in the prosecution of
good all the days of  your life.  Having said your Prayers, then on
your knees ask your Parents Blessing; and what  they shall appoint for
your Breakfast, do you by no means dislike or grumble at;  waste not
too much time in eating thereof, but hasten to School, having first
taken  your leave of your Parents with all reverence.  Do not loyter
by the way; or play the  truant; abuse none whom you meet, but be
courteous and mannerly to all who speak with you. 
Leave not any thing behind which you ought to carry with you, not only
things you Learn in or by, but also Gloves, Pocket-Handkerchiefs; and
have a special care of any thing that may mischief you by the way.When you come to School, salute your Mistress in a reverent manner,
and be sure to mind what she injoyns you to do or observe.  You cannot
but live well if you conform to what you hear.  Be not offended if
your  Governess advise you rather what is most fitting than what is
most  pleasing; for such is the property of a good Instructress.   And
these  are to be entertained with such indeared respect, as their
speeches (be  they never so tart) should not incense you; nor their
reproofs by they never so free distaste you;  having done this, salute
civilly your School fellows, and then apply your self to your book
work, writing, or whatever else you are to learn.Show not your ill-breeding and want of manners, by eating in the
School, especially before your Mistress.Mind what you are about, and neglect not what you are to do, by
vain  pratling in the School: make no noise, that you may neither
disturb your Mistress, or  School-fellows.When you are called to read, come reverently to your Mistress, or
any  whom she appoints; avoid reading with a tone, huddle not over
your lesson, but  strive to understand what you read, and read so
plainly, distinctly, and deliberately, that  others may understand; if
you are doubtful of a word, carefully spell it, and  mistake not one
word for another; when you have done, return, shewing your 

reverence to your place.  Whatever work you take in hand, do it
cleanly  and well, though you are the longer about it; and have a care
of waiting  or losing any thing that appeartains thereunto.  Sit
upright at your  work, and do not lean or lol: and forbear to carry
Children in your arms  out of a wanton humour; for these whilst you
are so young, may incline  your body to crookedness.  If you write, be
careful you do not blot your  paper; take pains in the true forming or
cutting your letters, and  endeavour to write true and well after your
copy.  Preserve your Pens,  spill not your ink, nor slurt it on your
own or others clothes, and keep  your fingers from being polluted
therewith.Returning from School, make haste home, not gaping on every idle
object you meet with by the way.  Coming into the house, apply your
self  immediately to your Parents, and having saluted them according
to your duty, acquaint them with what  proficiency you have made in
your learning that day, be not ablent when Dinner is on the  Table,
but present when Grace is said, and sit not down before you have done
your  obeisance to your Parents, and the company then present.  Keep
your Clothes from  greasing, by pinning or keeping your napkin rite
about you; and receive what is given  you, thankfully.  Be not
talkative at Table, nay, nor do not speak, unless you are askt a
question.  Eat not your meat greedily, nor fill your mouth too full;
and empty your mouth  before you drink; and avoid smaking in your
eating.  Grease not your fingers as those that  are slovenly up to the
knuckles.  You will show yourself 

too faucy by calling for fawce or any dainty thing.  Forbear putting
both  hands to your mouth at once; nor gnaw your meat, but cut it
handsomely,  and eat sparingly.  Let your nose and hands be always
kept clean.  When  you have dined or sup, rise from the table, and
carry your trencher or  plate with you, doing your obeisance to the
company; and then attend in  the room till the rest rise.In the intervals of School-time, let your recreation be pleasant
and  civill, not rude and boisterous.  Sit not before your betters, unless you are so desired, and unless
you  are at meat, working, or writing.Be no make-bate between your Parents and their Servants; tell not a
lye in any café, nor mince it into a plausible excuse to save
you  from the hand of correction.Going to bed, make no noise that may disturb any of the Family, but
more especially your Parents; and before you betake you self to rest,
commit yourself  into the hands of the Almighty; desiring his infinite
Majesty not only to watch over you in  the night, but preserve you
for, and assist you in the duties of the ensuing day.If the Poor beg at your Father's door, though you cannot your self
supply his necessities, yet you may do it by perswading your Father or
Mother, which may be the  sooner induced to it by observing your early
and forward inclination to  Chairty.Get that Catechism the Government has made choice of for you, by
heart; by the practice of which you will be enabled to perform your
duty  to God and man.
Behave your self in the Church reverently; giving an awful regard to
what sacred truths the Minister shall deliver for your future
observation and practice; and  do not proclaim publickly to the whole
Congregation your levity and vanity by laughing,  talking, pointing
with your finger, and nodding, or your careless contempt of Gods word
by  drowsiness or sleeping.Do not despise the aged, but rather honour them for their antiquity
;  and indeed you have but little reason to contemn old people if you
;  consider this, that you will be old if God shall think fit to
;  continue your days to the length of theirs, and  therefore would
;  not be so ferv'd your self.God inable you to observe and practice what I have here already
laid  down, and give you yielding hearts to the exercise of what shall
hereafter follow, to the glory of God, the unspeakable comfort of your
Friends, & eternal salvation of your immortal  Souls.Thus I have given you general instructions as to your learning and
deportment: Give me now leave to insist in particular on the duty you
owe  your Parents.The
duty of Children to their Parents.   The duties of a Child (Male or Female) to Parents, may be
branchèd out  into these particulars; Reverence, Love,
Obedience (especially in  Marriage) assisting them in their wants, nay
all these considered as due  debt to the world of Parents.
You ought in the first place to behave your self towards them with
reverence, respect, humility, and observance and although their
infirmities may tempt you into a contempt of them, yet you must not
despise them in your behaviour, nor let your heart entertain an
undervaluing thought.  What infirmities they have, you must endeavour
to  cover and conceal, like Shem  and Faphet, who whilst cursed Cham
endeavoured to disclose the nakedness of their Father to pubblick
view,  they privately covered from the sight of others, that which
they debarrèd  their own eyes to look upon.  It is a great
fault in our days, and too  frequently practifed, for youth not only
to deride the imperfections of  their Parents, but forge and pretend
more than they have, that their  counsel and correction may seem
rather the effect of weakness, than good  judgment in the punishing
their Childrens errors.  They think they then  best express their wit,
when they can mmost flout and abuse grave  Counsel.  Let such, if they
will not practise the exhortations; yet  remember the threatnings of
the wisest of men, Prov. 30, 17.  The eye  that mocketh his Father,
and despiseth to obey his Mother, the Ravens of  the Valley, shall
pick it out, and the young Eagles shall eat it.Thus as your behaviour ought to be respectful to them, so ought you
to  shew them all the demonstrations of love imaginable, striving to
do them  all the good you can, and shunning all the occasions of their
disquiet.   This you are obliged unto by common gratitude; for they
were not only the  instruments of bringing you into the world, but of
sustaining and  supporting you afterwards; 

if you could but rightly weigh the fears and cares that are required
in  the bringing up a Child, you would judg your love to be but a
moderate  return in compensation thereof.This love is to be exprest several ways: First, in all kindness of
behaviour, carrying your self not only with awe and respect, but with
kindness and affection, which will encourage you to do those things
they  affect, and make you avoid what may grieve and afflict them.Secondly, This love is to be exprest in praying for them.  The debt
a  Child owes her arents is so great, that she can never make
satisfaction  unless she call God to her aid and assistance, by
beseeching him to  multily his blessing on them.  Do not for any
temporal benefit or to be  freed from the severity of they Parents,
with their death.  God in the  Old Testament hath denounced death and
destruction to the Curser of his  Parents and therefore certainly will
not let thy ill wishes towards them  go unpunished; certainly they who
watch for the death of their Parents,  may untimely meet with their
own.The third duty we owe them is Obedience; this is not only contained
in  the fifth Commandment, but injoined in many other places of
Scripture.   This obedience extends no farther than to lawful things
otherwise it is  disobedience, and offends against a higher duty, even
that you owe to God  your Heavenly Father.  How little this duty is
regarded daily experience  makes evident; the careful Mother having
her child no longer under her  commend, than under the rod.Wherefore think not, though grown up to Womans 

estate, that you are freed from obedience; and let not your motive
thereunto be out of worldly prudence, fearing to displease your
Parents,  lest they should diminish your intended portion, and os be a
loser  thereby but let your obedience be grounded upon conscience of
duty.But of all the acts of Disobedience, that of Marrying against the
consent of Parents if the highest.  Children are so much the Goods and
Chattels of a Parent, that they cannot without a kind of theft give
themselves away without the allowance of those that have the right in
them; and therefore we see under the Law; the Maid that had made any
Vow,  was not sufferèd to perform it without the consent of the
Parent, Number.  30.5.  The right of the Parent was thought of force
enough to cancel and  make void the  obligation even of a Vow; and
therefore surely it ought to  be so much considered by us to keep us
from making any such whereby that  right is infringed.A fourth duty is, To minister to, and assist your Parents in
what-ever  necessities or infirmities God Almighty shall think fit to
inflict upon  them.  It may be thy Parent is weak or decayèd in
understanding, supply  his or her wants according to thy ability,
since in thy infancy thou  didst receive the same benefits from them.
When an infant, you had  neither strength to support, nor
understanding to guide your self, but  was supplyèd with both
by your indulgent Parents; wherefore common  gratitude, when either of
these becomes their case, obligeth you to  return the same offices
back again to them.And as for the relieving their Poverty, there is 

the same obligation with the former, it being but just to sustain
those  who had maintainèd thee.How then shall those answer it, who will not part with or
circumscribe  their own excesses and superfluities for the relief of
such to whom they  owe their being and well-being? And worse it will
be with those who out  of pride deny their Parents, being themselves
exalted, fearing lest the  lowness of their condition should betray
the meanness of their birth.Lastly, that I may conclude this Discourse, assure your self, That
no  unkindness, fault, or poverty of a Parent, can excuse or acquit a
child  from this duty.  Although the gratitude due to a kind Parent be
aforcible  motive to make the child pay his duty; yet though our
Parent were even so  unnatural, yet still we are to perform our duty,
though none of that tye  of gratitude lie on us.Take this for all, Honour and obey thy natural Parents in what
condition soever, for if they cannot give the riches, yet thy Heavenly
Father hath promised thee length of days.Of a
young Gentlewomans deportment to her  Governess and Servants in the
FamilyIf your Parents have committed you to the care and tuition of a
Governess in the house with you, think with yourself, that this person
whom I must now call my Governess, is one whom my Father and Mother
have  elected and entertainèd for my education, to lessen their
own trouble,  but not their tender care of me.  Therefore if I obey
her 

not in all things requisite, I transgress the commands of my loving
Parents, and displease God in abusing their kindness.Next, consider within your self, that this person who is
constituted  the guide of my actions, is such a one as they are
confident either in  their own judgments, or those who have
recommended her, to be fit in all  points to perform this charge
committed to her; therefore in obedience to  them I must and will obey
her, and follow those good examples and  precepts she shall lay down
for my better information.If she seem somewhat harsh, reservèd, and abridgeth your
freedom, yet  let not your green years be too forward in condemning
her, nor let not  the ill counsel of inferior servants perswade you
against her; lest by so  doing you betray your want of reason and good
nature, and detract from  your parents worth care for you.If you have just cause of complaint, yet speak not maliciously
against  her, but truly and opportunely impart your grief; by this
means she will  be either removed from you, or regulated by their
commands.  Be sure  therefore that your complaints be just, lest you
should have one in her  stead who may more justly desreve your
censure, and so make your self  unhappy by your Parents fears of
having a child that is refractory.   Besides, think thus with your
self, that too often complaining makes dull  and careless the Auditor;
and instead of extracting compassion, it  creates a jealousie of an
ill disposition.If your Governess be a Woman in years, honour her the more; if
young,  you may promise 

your self more freedom with her; yet if I may advise, I would not have
a  person too young to have such a charge, for they will have
sufficient to  do to govern themselves, therefore the more unfit to
govern others;  besides youth will be the more easily induced to
submit rather to their  Elders than their Equals.What I now declare, is the fruit of experience, having had too
great a  charge in this nature when I was very young; and do know how
defective I  wasthen in my duty, since I became a Mother of Children,
having now more  tenderness to youth; and can speak it knowingly, that
a mild moderate way  is to be preferred before rigorand harshness, and
that correction of  words is better than that of blows. Give me leave, Gentlewomen, to wish you a good Governess, not such
a  one as I have been, but as I could or would be now.  I can now with
a  greater sense look back upon my faults, than I could discern them
when  fist committed: Thus much to your Governess.  Now to your Maid
who is to  dress you.Be not peevish or froward to her, but sweetly accept her
endeavours,  and gently admonish her of her neglects or errors; if she
be good-naturèd  and willing to please, this carriage will
oblige and command a constant  dilligence from her; other wise you
will cause her to serve you only for  her own ends, and with an
eye-service; and whilst you are making a wry  face in the Glass, she
will make another behind your back.Be courteous to all the Servants belonging to your Parents, but not
over-familiar with any of them, 

lest they grow rude and fancy with you; and indeed too much
familiarity  is not good with any, for contempt is commonly the
product thereof.If you can do any Servant good in any thing, either in mitigating
your  Parents anger towards them, or presenting their humble petition
for them  be not slick in so doing, for by this means you will
purchase to your  self both love and honour.If any poor body sue to you to beg in their names that which is not
unfit for them to ask, do not deny them, and God will not deny you
your  request; Do good to all, and turn not your face away from the
indigent,  but let your charity extend to their relief and succour.Be courteous to all people inferior to your quality; but in such a
way, that they may know you understand your self, and this will be a
sweet kind of commanding reverence from them, and will give you the
character of a good and humble spirit; assure your self it is better
to  be good than great.  Majesty mixt with mmodesty and humility
forcibly  commands the service of all; but pride and imperiousness,
though in a  great person, breeds scorn and comtempt in the heart and
tongue even of  the meanest Peasant.  If God hath blest you with birth
and forrtune above  other, be sure your virtue shine with greater
luster than others.Despise not those who have not so great a portion of wit and wealth
as  you possess; but thing with your self, to whom the Lord gives
much, he  requires much from.  As God made nothing in vain, so he
gives nothing in  vain.  That person is not to be trusted, who doth
not endeavour to  improve 

what he is intrusted withal.  If you have wisdom, boast not thereof,
but  give God thanks and use it to his glory and your own
comfort.What
qualifications best become and are most  suitable to a Gentlewoman.I Have already endeavoured to prove, that though Nature hath
differèd  mankind into Sexes, yet she never intended any great
difference in the  Intellect.  This will evidently appear not only
from those many arguments  learned Cornelius Agrippa hath laid down in
a particular Treatise for the  Vindication of the excellency of the
Female-Sex, but likewise from the  many learned and incomparable
Writings of famous Women, ancient and  modern, particularly Anna
Commena who wrote the Eastern History in Greek,  a large Follo.  Nor
can we without great ingratitude forget the memory of  that most
ingenious Dutch Lady Anna Marica Schurman, who was so much  admired by
the greatest Scholars in Europe for her unparallelèd, natural
and acquired parts, that there were very few ( as the great Salmasius,
& c. ) who did not frequently correspond with her by Letters.   Her
Opusuela or smaller works are now extant, printed in Holland in Latin,
Greek, and Hebrew, in which there is a small tract, proving that a
Womans  capacity is no way inferior to mans in the reception of any
sort of  learning; and therefore exhorts all Parents who are not much
necessitated, not to let their Children sping away their precious
time,  or pore on a Sampler, till they have prickt out the date of
their life;  but rather instruct them in the principles 

of those learned Tongues, whereby they may at pleasure pick-lock the
Treasuries of Knowledg contained in those Languages, and adapt them
for  the conversation and discourse of most Nations.I need not go out of our native Country to produce you examples
enough  of our own Sex for your information and encouragement in
treading the  paths of learning.  I shall forbear to speak of the
incomparable worth  and pregnant parts of some Gentlewomen lately
deceased as Mrs. Philips  the ingenious Translatress of Pompey, or
since what is extant of hers or  her Comtemporaries will more at large
express their matchless merit; nor  shall I eulogize or prise the
living, nominating any person, left I be  thought one partially
addicted to flattery:  Yet give me leave to say, I  could instance not
a few, who (to the glory of our Sex, and the place of  their Nativity
if occasion modestly required ) would not blush to answer  a
Capricious virtuoso in three of the most trutful Tongues spoken or
understood, that is Latin, French, and Italian.I desire not to hyperbolize; it is probably they may not be so
expert  in the anatomizing an insect or the discovery of some
monstrous  production; as these Academical Wits are; yet for ought I
know, may find  out many monstrosities in their brain; whist they are
subtilly plumming  the depth of their self-admired understanding.Now since it may hence appear, Ladies, that you have no Pygmean
Souls,  but as capable of Gygantick growth as of your Male oppornents;
apply your  self to your Grammar by time, and let your 

endeavours be indefutigable, and not to be tired in apprehending the
first principles of the Latin tongue.  I shall forbear to give you
rules  for attaining the perfect knowledg thereof, but leave you to
that method  your Tutor or skilful Governess shall propound for your
observation.I need not tell you the vast advantages that will accrue hereby,
your  own experience will betterinform you hereafter.  However, I
shall hint  some, as first, your understanding the Latin tongue will
inable you to  write and speak true and good English, next it will
accommodate you with  an eloquent stile in speaking, and afford you
matter for any discourse:  lastly, you will be freed from the fear of
rencounting, such who make it  their business to ransack a new world
of words to find out what are long  and obscure; not regarding how
insignificant if they carry a ratling  found with them.  Thus there
Fops of Rhetorick, spawns of  non-intelligency, will venture the
spraining of the tongues, and  splay-footing their own mouths, if they
can but cramp a young  Gentlewomans intellect.Our English tongue is of late very much refined by borrowing many
words from the Latin, only altering the itermination, these you will
never perfectly understand without the knowledg of the Latin, but
rather  misapply or displace them to you great discredit, although you
should  consult the English Interpreters that were ever extant.And as our Mother tongue hath finished her expressions with the
Roman  dialect; so to make them the more spruce and complacent, she
hath  borrowed some choice words from other Nations, more specially
the  neighbouring French, whose tongue

 you must in no sort be ignorant of, if you intend to speak with the
air  of the Court, or like the quaint Oratresses of the Court-air.It is no small benefit which will accrue to you by learning the
Italian; for by reason of our Gentries travelling into foreign parts,
occasioned by our late unhappy and inhumane home-bred distractions,
these  two Languages are generally spoken in England; insomuch that a
Court-Lady  will not be induced to esteem a friend, or entertain a
Servant who cannot  speak one of them at least: and that you may not
despair of a competent  knowledg of either, or both, without going
into those Counries where they  are naturally spoken, know there are
many excellent Masters who teach  here in London those Languages; but
more especially that sober and  learned natural Italian Seignnior
Torriano; and that unimitable Master of  the French Tongue, Monsreur
Mauger; both which have publisht their  Grammars; the first a large
and useful Italian Dictionary also.  Both  these Countrys have been
happy, and may be justly proud in producing so  many learned and
ingenious men; so many, should I nominate them with  their deferved
Encomiums, this small Treatise would swell into Volumes; I  shall
therefore pass them over, but would not have you their Writings, where
you shall find plenty of every thing, which shall either tickle your
fancy, or furnish your understanding.  Having thus adapted you for
conversation, let me next show you your deportment therein.Of a
Gentlewomans civil Behaviour to all sorts  of people in all places. A Painter of old being about a draught of a most
absolute beauty,  propounded for the accomplishment thereof half a
dozen of the most  exquisite and wonderful fair Maidens he could find,
that he might steal  from each those charms and features which he
thought were most powerful;  but I will assure you a greater
assistance is required in the framing and  fashioning of a Woman,
whose behaviour should be such as to please in all  companies.
Whatsoever Nature can afford, or good manners inform, come  short of
this purpose.  In this subject the fairest Ornaments are most
necessary; among which what I have already exprest, are highly to be
prized, which with the aggregation of all the best qualities can be
desired, are the proper things, which as in their Center must
terminate  in conversation.The first things I judg most necessary, and do wish, with Socrates,
were in you Ladies, as he desired in his Pupils, are Discretion,
Silence  and Modesty.  But this is too general; wherefore since
conversation  (after the milk) is the first and chiefest thing, both
animal as well as  rational creatures do most desire and delight in, I
shall first advise,  as to choice of company; next, your carriage
therein, both in geesture,  look, speech and habit.No wonder all Mankind is so generally inclined to conversation,
since  Life without Society is more insupportable than Death; it is
discourse  makes us pass over our tedious hours and days with delight.
What a  Desart would this world seem without company! 
And how dangerous would it prove were we not cautious in our election!
For example is more forcible than precept; thus by ill company you may
gain a bad custom, which all good instructions shall never root out.
But  should you be so prudent as not to follow their evil example; yet
by  associating your self, you will inevitably contract a suspition of
being  as bad as they; this made the Philosopher say, Shew me thy
Companion, and  I will tell thee what thou art.Be not easily induc'd to enter into discourse with strangers, for
nothing argueth levity and indicretion more than that.  Confort your
self  with your betters as near as you can, yet do not despise your
equals, but  in a most especial manner avoid all familiarity with your
inferiors; if  Female, in a little time they will thereby be drawn to
slight you; if  Male, they will be incouraged to attack your honour
unlwfully, or  subtilly insinuate themselves into affection, whereby
though you are as  high in fortune, as honourable in birth, you may
stoop to so low a  contract, that forgetting your self by the
incessant importunities of  their over-blown desires, you are
overcome, & so become a grief to your  friends, a shame to your
selves, and a lamentable spectacle of reproach  and sorrow to that
worthy Family, from whence you had your Original.Affect not the vanity of some, in being seen in publick too
frequently.  Thus many excellent Ladies have exposed themselves to the
mercy of the Tempter, who otherwise had stood impregnable in the
defence  of their Chastities.  You think, it may be, and intend no
harm in your  Promenades or walks; but by so doing, you give too often
occasion for 

licentious Amorists to meet with you, and may thereby be perswaded to
throw off the vail of circumspection, to give attention to some wanton
smutty story.  Consult not too much with youthful blood and beauty,
lest  they prove too dangerous enemies to be your
Privy-Councellors.Be not guilty of the unpardonable faulty of some, who never thing
they  do better than when they speak most; uttering an Ocean of words,
without  one drop of reason; talking much, expressing little: Much
like that Wan  Dr. Heylin unhappily met withal, in his younger years,
with whom he was  constrained to travel a long Journey in a Coach: So
indiscreetly reserved  she was at first meeting, that tendring his
devoir of a salute, (as it is  customary,) she would not admit
thereof; so speechless withal at first,  as if a vow'd resolution had
tied up her tongue to the strict observance  of an everlasting
silence, but the next day, she so far presumed on the  slenderness of
the acquaintance, that, though she was so silent before,  she then
opened upon their setting forward; and the continual click of  her
tongue never ceast till the Sun was set; which the motion of her
tongue, and the Doctor's watch, kept exact time for eleven hours; and
notwithstanding her seeming modesty in refusing a kiss, did now
voluntarily prompt him to a close imbrace.As I would not advise you to be over-reserv'd, so give not too
loose  reins to liberty, making pleasure your vocation, as if you were
created  for no other end than to dedicate the first-fruits of the
morning to your  Looking-glass, and the remainder thereof to the
Exchange, or Play-house.   Many of our Sex are to blame, who have no
sooner ting'd their faces 

artificially, than some Attendant is dispatcht to know what Plays are
to  be acted that day; my Lady approveth of one which she is resolved
to see,  that she may be seen; being in the Pit or Box, she minds not
how little  she observeth in it, as how much to be observed at it.  If
the novelty or  goodness of the Play invite them not, then what Lady
Fashion-monger?   Or  what Lord Beauty-hunter?Shun all affectation in your behaviour; for Vertue admits of no
such  thing in her gesture or habit, but that which is proper, and not
enforced; native or decent, and not what is apishly introduced.
Therefore since  nothing better befits you than what is your own, make
known by your dress, how much you hate formality.  To this end play
not  the Hypocrite with your Creator, in pretending to go to Church to
serve  him, whereas it is to serve your selves in the imitation of
some new  fashion.  That which becometh another well, may ill become
you.  You  deserve in your preposterous-imitation, suitable
correction, with the Ass  in the Fable, who feeing the Spaniel
sawningly to leap on his Master,  thought that the like posture would
alike become and oblige him; which he  adventuring to put in practice,
alarm'd the whole Family, & was soundly  beaten for his unadvised
folly.  Affectation cannot be conceal'd, and the  indecency of your
deportment will quickly bne discovered in publick  Societies;
wherefore behave your self so discreetly abroad, that you may  confer
no less a benefit on such as see your behaviour, than you profit  such
as shall observe your carriage at home: Express in publick such a
well-becoming Garb, that every action may deserve the applause &
imitation of all that are in your company.  Let your conceits 

be nimble and ready, and not temper'd or mixt with lightness; let your
jests be innocent and seasonable, without the least capriciousness;
let  your discourse be free without niceness; your whole carriage
delightful,  and agreeable, and flowing with a seeming carelessness.
Thus much in  general, let me now come to particulars.Of
the Gait or Gesture It is an easie matter to gather the disposition of our heart, by
the  dimension of our Gait.  A light carriage most commonly discovers
a loose  inclination; as jetting and strutting, shew haughtiness and
self-conceit.   Were your bodies transparent, you could not more
perspicuously display  your levity than by wanton Gesticulations.Decency when she seeth Women, whose modesty should be the Ornament
of  their beauty, demean themselves in the streets, or elswhere, more
like an  Actorefs, than Virtu's Imitatress; she endeavours to reclaim
them, by  bidding them look back to preceding times, & there they
shall find Women  (though Pagans) highly censured, for that their
outward carriage only  made them suspected.  A Vail (no Vizardmask)
covered their face, modesty  measured each step, and so circumspect
were they in general of their  carriage, lest they should become a
scandal or blemish to their Sex.Their repair to their (prophane) Temples was decent, without any
loose  or light gesture; and having entred them, constant and setled
was their  behaviour.  Quick was their pace in the dispatch of
oeconomick or  houshold-affairs, but slow in their 

Epicurean visits, or extravagent Gossipings.  How much more should you
in  these purer Christian times affect that most which most adorns and
beutifieth!  Eye your feet those bases of frailty, how they who so
proudly exalt themselves on the surface of the Earth, are but Earth,
and  are the daily Porters which carry their earthly fame nearer its
Earth.With what apish gestures some walk, to discover their lightness;
others like Colosso's discovering their ambition and haughtiness?  How
punchtually these, as if they were Puppets, who are beholding for
their  motion to some secret Artifice?  These unstaid dimentions,
argue unsetled  dispositions.  Such as these, discretion cannot prize,
nor found judgment  praise.  Vulgar opinion, whose applause seldom
receives life from desert,  may admire what is new; but discretion
only that which is neat.  Having  thus soken what is requisite in
Gesture, I shall next treat how the Eye  ought to be
coverned. Of
the Government of the Eye.  As prudence is the eye of the Soul, so Discretion is the apple of
that  Eye but as for the natural Eyes, they are the Casements of the
Soul, the  Windows of Reason: As they are the inlets of Understanding,
so they are  the outlets or discoverers of many inward corruptions.  A
wanton Eye is  the truest evidence of a wanring and distracted mind.
As by them you  ought not to betray to others view, your imperfections
within; so be not  betray'd by their means, by vain objects without:
This made the Princely  Prophet pray so earnestly, Lord turn away my
eyes from vanity.  And hence  appears our misery, that those eyes
which should be the Cisterns of  sorrow, Limbecks of contrition,
should become the lodges of lust, and  portals of our perdition.  That
those which were given us for our  Assistants, should become our
Assassinates.An unclean Eye, is the messenger of an unclean Heart; wherefore
confine the one, and it will be a means to rectifie the other.  There
are  many Objects a wandring Eye finds out, whereon to vent the
disposition of  her corrupt heart.The ambitious Eye makes Honour her object wherewith she torments
her  self, both in aspiring to what she cannot enjoy; as likewise, in
seeing  another enjoy that whereto her self did aspire.  The covetous
makes  Wealth her object; which she obtains with toil, enjoys with
fear, forgoes  with grief; for being got, they load her; lov'd they
soil her; lost, they  gall her.  The envious 
 
makes her Neighbours flourishing condition her object; she cannot but
look on it; looking, pine and repine at it; and by repining, with
envy,  murders her quiet and contentment.  The loose or lascivious
makes Beauty  her object; and with a leering look, or wanton glance,
while she throweth  out her lure to catch others, she becomes catcht
her self.Gentlewomen, I am not insensible, that you frequent places of
eminency  for resort, which cannot but offer to your view variety of
pleasing  Objects.  Nay, there where nothing but chast thoughts, staid
looks, and  modest desires, should harbour, are too commonly loose
thought, light  looks, and licentious desires in especial honour.  The
means to prevent  this malady, which like a spreading Canker
disperseth it self in all  Societies, is to abate your esteem for any
earthly Object.  Do you admire  the comeliness of any Creature?
Remove your Eye from thence, and bestow  it on the contemplation of
the superexcellency of your Creator.Put a check to the stragling disposition of your eyes, lest
Dinah-like, by straying abroad you are in danger of ravishing.  Now to
preserve purity of heart, you must observe a vigilancy over every
sense;  where, if the Eye which is the light of the body be not well
disposed,  the rest of the Senses cannot chuse but be much darkned.
Be assured,  there is no one sense that more distempers the harmony of
the mnd, nor  prospect of the Soul, than this window of the body.  It
may be said to  open ever to the Raven, but seldom to the Dove.
Roving affections, it  easily conveys to the heart; 

but Dove-like innocence, it rarely retains in the breast.  The very
frame  of your eyes may sufficiently inform you how to govern and
guide them.   For it is observed by the most curious Oculifts that
wheres all  irrational Creatures have but four Muscles to turn their
Eyes round  about; Man alone hath a fifth to draw his Eyes up to
Heaven.  Do not then  depress your Eyes as if Earth were the Center of
their happiness, but on  Heaven the Haven of their bliss after Earth.
To conclude, so order and  dispose your looks, that censure may not
tax them with lightness, nor an  amorous glance impeach you of
wantonness.  Send not forth a tempting Eye  to take another; nor
entertain a tempting look darting from another.   Take not, nor be
taken.  To become a prey to others, will enslave you, to  make a prey
of others will transport you.  Look then upward, where the  more you
look, you shall like; the longer you live, you shall love.  From  the
management of the Eyes let us next proceed to Speech.Of
Speech and Complement.  The Eye entertains it self not with more Objects than the Invention
furnisheth the Tongue with Subjects; and as without Speech, no Society
can subsist; so by it we express what we are; as Vessels discover
themselves best by the found.  Let Discretion make Opportunity her
Anvil,  whereon to fashion a seasonable Discourse; otherwise, though
you speak  much, you discourse little.
It is true (Ladies) your tongues are held your defensive armour, but
you never detract more from your honourthan when you give too much
liberty to that slippery glib member.  That Ivory guard or garrison,
which impales your tongue, doth caution and instruct you, to put a
restraint on your Speech.  In much talk you must of necessity commit
much  error, as least it leaves some tincture of vain-glory, which
proclaims  the proud heart from whence it proceeded, or some taste of
scurrility,  which displays the wanton heart from whence it
streamed.A well disposed mind will not deliver any thing tilll, it hath
rightly  conceived; but its expressions are always prepared by a
well-season'd  deliberation.  Think not I would have you altogether
silent (Ladies) in  company, for that is a misbecoming error on the
otehr side; but I would  have you when you do speak, to do it
knowingly and opportunely.A saying of a Philosopher will not be unworthy of your
commemoration,  who seeing a silent guest at a publick Feast, used
these words, If thou  beest wife, thou are a fool; if a fool, thou art
wise in holding thy  peace.  For as propriety of Speech affords no
less profit than delight to  the Hearer, so it argues discretion in
the Speaker.By the way, let me advise you never to tye your self to strictly to
elegancy, or ornament; as by outward trimming, the internal worth of
right understanding should be altogether forgotten, and so your
expressions favour of some absurd impertinency.  This were to prefer
the  rind before the pith, and the sound of words before solid
reason.
That excellent precept of Ecclestasticus, though it was spoken in
general yet I know not to whom it is more particularly useful than to
young Women.  Thou that art young, speak, if need be, and yet
scarecely  when thou art twice asked.  Comprehend much in few words;
in many; be as  one that is ignorant; be as one that understandeth,
and yet hold thy  tongue.Volubility of tongue in these, argues either rudeness of breeding,
or  boldness of expression.  Gentlewomen, it will best become ye,
whoose  generous education hath estranged ye from the first, and whose
modest  disposition hath weaned ye from the last, in publick Society
to observe,  rather than discourse; especially among elderly Matrons
to whom you owe a  civil reverence, and therefore ought to tip your
tongue with silence.Silence in a Woman is a moving-rhetorick, winning most, when in
words  it woeth least.  If opportunity give your Sex argument of
discourse, let  it neither taste of affectation, for that were
servile; nor touch upon  any wanton relation, for that were uncivil;
nor any thing above the  Sphere of your proper concern, for that were
unequal.  This will make  your Discourse generally acceptable, and
free you from prejudicate  censure.Choice and general Rules for a Gentlewomans  observation in
Conversation with Company. Before I shall direct you in a method for civil converse in
Society,  it will not be improper to give you an account of Civility,
and in what 

it consists; next, the definition, circumstances, and several kinds
thereof; lastly, the difference of things decent, and undecent
according  to custom.Civility, or gentle plausibility, of which I intend to give you
information; is in my slender judgment nothing else but the modestly
and  handsome decorum, to be observed by every one according to his or
her  condition; attended with a bonne grace, and a neat becoming air.
It  lyeth not in my power to lay you down rules and precepts for the
procuring this charming air, and winning agreeableness.  Nature hath
reserved this to her self, and will not bestow this inexpressible
boon,  but to her choicst favourites, and therefore I do not see how
Art with  her utmost skill can initate it to any purpose. I confess this very much engageth the Eye, and sometimes doth very
subtilly steal into the affections; but we rest too much on a trifle,
if  we do not endeavour to make our selves more grateful to the eye of
Reason.  It is not barely the outward ornamental dress, or becoming
address which is the true principle and form of a compleat
Gentlewoman;  there is something, more required, more substantial and
solid, which must  discover the disposition of her Soul, rather than
the gesticulations of  her Body.  Were it not for this, alas what
would become of a great many  to whom Nature hath proved an unkind
Stepmother, denying them not only  convenient use of members, but hath
thrown on them deformity of parts;  these Corporal incommodities would
make them pass for Monsters, did not  the excellency 

of their Souls compensat those irreparable defects; their minds being
well cultivated and polite, their actions may be as pleasing as those
of  the handsomest; that Lady that is so unfortunate in the one, and
so happy  in the other, may say with the Poet:Si mihidiffilis formam Naturanegavit, ingenio forme damna
rependo mes. In English thus;If Nature hath deni'd me what is fit, The want of Beauty I
repay with Wit. But whether you are afflicted with any natural or accidental
deformity, or not you can never be truly accomplisht till you apply
your  self to the Rule of Civility, which is nothing but a certain
Modesty or  Pudor required in all your actions:  This is the Virtue I
shall labour to  describe, which description I hope will be sufficient
to direct you  towards the acquisition of that agreeable deportment,
which hath the  power to concilate and procure the applause &
affection of all sorts of  people.The definition of Civility may be thus understood; it is a Science,
for the right understanding our selves, and true instructing how to
dispose all our words and actions in their proper and due places.There are four circumstances which attend Civility; without which,
according to its Rules, nothing can be done exactly.
First, Ladies, you must consult your years, and so accordingly behave
your self to your age and condition.Next, Preserve all due respect to the quality of the Person you
converse withal.Thirdly, Consider well the time.  And, lastly, the place where you
are.These circumstances relating to the knowledg of our selves, and all
persons in all conditions, having respect to time and place, are of
such  great consequence, and necessary import, that if you are
deficient in any  of these, all your actions (how well soever
intended) are the rags of  imperfection and deformity.  I shall find
it somewhat difficult to  prescribe the exact rules of Civility, so as
to render them compliable  with all times, places and persons, by
reason of variety of Customs: You  may fall accidentally into the
society of some exotick and forreigh  person of quality; and what may
seem civil and decent in you, may seem  undecent and ridiculous to
another Nation.  May, should you observe and  practice in your
behaviour what hath been applauded for useful &  profitable, aud
commended to posterity for a Gentlewomans laudable  imitation, may
decline or grow altogether contemptible in our critical  and curious
Age.  in short, nothing is so intrinsically decorous, but the
experience or capricio of a phantastical Lady will alter or explode.
By  reason of this variety, I think it altogether requisite to treat
of it as  it stands at this time in reputation among such who call
themselves  Christians, and accordingly reduce these Notions into
practice.
This modesty or Civility we speak of take it according to its truest
acceptation, is little else but Humility; which being well practis'd
by  Persons of Quality, is sufficient to stamp an everlasting impress
on them  of Virtue and Civility.  And this Humility consists not only
in a  moderate and submiss opinion of our selves, but in preferring
the  satisfaction and commodity of other persons before our own; and
that so  ingeniously, first, by not provoking or disobliging any one;
to be of  this disposition, is to be not only esteemed modest, but
good-natur'd;  the benefit that will redound to you hereby, may incite
and encourage you  to the practice of this shining-Virtue: for as
there is nothing will  render any one more insupportable, and lessen
estimation among all, than  insolence and Vanity, so nothing
recommends more strongly to the good  opinion and affection of all,
than assability and submillion.This virtue of Humility, above all others, ,hath this great
priviledg  in extraordinary emnence.  I have known some, who having
been endued with  a more than an odinary measure hereof, have been so
far from being  accused for their formal indecencies, and other
errors, which otherwise  might have been objected to their
disparagement, that every one  endeavoured to excuse them.  I have
known, on the other side, a proud and  an imperious carriage (though
the person was adorned with much breeding,  and beautified with all
the usual ornaments of Art, yet) was beloved by  few, ,because
displeasing to most and hardly welcome to any.  Modesty  therefore is
the effect of humility, as Civility 

and the gratefulness of our actions is the effect of Modesty.  To
conclude this Chapter, I shall add the difference or discrimination
between things civil and uncivil, convenient and inconvenient, decent
and  undecent.For the better understanding hereof, a good natural judgment is
required in a Gentlewoman for the perception and discerning the
various  qualities of things; for want of this she may many times fall
into a  mistake, and commit gross absurdities.In the next place, it is necessary that you take an exact
observation  of what is own'd and establisht for civil or uncivil, in
the place  wherein you are.Lastly, You must have a special regard, not to conofound
Familiarity  with Civility.  To persons of Quality in a higher rank
than your own, be  very attentive to what they say, lest you put them
to the trouble of  speaking things twice.  Interrupt them not whilst
they are speaking, but  patiently expect till they have done.  have a
special care how you  contradict them; but if finding them in an
error, and necessity obligeth  you to inform them of the truth, first
beg your excuse; but if they  persist therein, contend not, but refer
your further discourse till  another opportunity.When it comes to your turn to speak to intelligent Ladies,
entertain  them not with things you understand but imperfectly.  If
you find the  company more facetious and witty then your self, leave
the discourse to  time, and be silent, contenting your self to be an
attentive hearer:  

if you will run the hazard, be smart and pithy, comprehending much in
few  words; and be not the vain Imitatrix of those who affect to have
the  whole talk; and when their mouths are once open, can never shut
them  again.  If you are obliged to Complement any great person, do it
as  briefly as possible; and return your Answers rather in Courtships,
than  in any Prolix Discourse.  Avoid especially that rudeness that is
too  frequently practised among some, who think they are never heard,
unless  they come up so close to the face, as to run against your
nose; in that  cafe you are to pray heartily their breath be sweet, or
you faint  irrecoverably.Let not your Visits be too long; and when you think it convenient
to  retreat, and that Lady you Visited will do you the honour to
accompany  you out of the Chamber, do not seem to oppose it in the
least; that would  imply she understood not what she went about; but
you are only to  testifie by some little formality how underserving
you are of that great  honour.When you enter into a Room by way of Visit, avoid the indiscretion
and  vanity of a bold entrance without Ceremony, but do it quietly and
civilly.  And when you come near the person you would salute, make
your  Complement, and render your Devoir modestly, and with some
gravity,  ,shunning all bawling noise or obstreprousness.The Ladies which do you the civility of rising when you come in, do
not displace, by assuming any of their Chairs; but make choice 

of another feat; observing still, not to sit down till they are most
in  their places: it being a great indecorum to seat your self in that
cafe,  whilst any person which gave you that respect continues in a
stanidng  posture.It is an intollerable incivillity to enquire what they were talking
about; or if you see any two or more Discoursing or Dialoguing
together,  to interrupt them by hastily asking what they said last. If
you are in a  mixt company, and you are qualified with those Languages
(the knowledg  whereof I have advised you to prosecute), speak as
little as you can: But  be sure you do not hold a Discourse in that
Language the rest do not  understand.It is not civil to whisper in Company, and much less to laugh when
you  have done.  The generality of Gentlewomen are suspicious, and
somewhat  conscious, and are apt to surmize what was never intended,
and to apply  to themselves what was meant of another; by which means
they have  conceived so great a displeasure, as never to be eradicated
or  removed.I need not put you in mind of those Documents you learned every day
when you were Children; that is, when ever you answer negatively or
affirmatively, to give always the Titles of Sir, Madam, or my Lord.
It  is very unhansome, when you contradict a person of Quality, to
answer him  with, It is not so; if you are necessitated thereunto, do
it by  Circumlocution, as I beg your Honour's pardon  Madam, I beseech
your  Ladyship to excuse my presumption if I say 

You mistake, & c.  If any discourse you Complementally, and run out
into  some extravagant expressions in commendation of your person; it
is a  breach of civility if you should say, Pray forbear your jeers,
my back is  broad enough to bear your flouts; but say, You strangely
surprize me,  Sir; or, I am confident, Sir, what you now express, is
rather to shew  your wit and ingenuity, than to declare any thing
worth a taking notice  of in me.  If your love and respect to a Ladies
person obligeth you to  reprove a fault in her, do not say, Madam, you
acted the part of a mad  Woman, in doing such a thing; but had such a
thing been left undone, you  had neither disobliged your self or
friends.Take special care of speaking impoeriously to your Superiors, but
rather do it in some indefinite manner; as instead of saying, Come,
you  must do, go, and  say, Come, Madam, if you think it convenient;
or if it  stand with your Ladiships plessure, we will go to such a
place, or do  such a thing; in my opinion such a thing is requisit to
be done, if it  suits; Madam, with your approbation.As it is a great argument of indiscretion in a Gentlewoman that
would  be thought prudent and wise, to talk much in praise of her
Relations in  the presence of Persons of Honour; so it is very
unhandsome to seem  affected or over-much pleased in hearing others
speaking largely in their  commendations.There is a certain ambitious vanity that possesseth the minds of
some  of the younger sort, who being Nobly extracted, think they add
to the  honour of their Parents, when having occasion 

to speak of them in honourable company, they never mention them
without  their titles of Honour (though we ought always to speak of
them with  respect, as My Lord my Father; My Lady my Mother: In my
opinion every jot  as ridiculous, as for young Gentlewomen of twelve
years old to call them  Dad and Mam.  Avoid, as a thing very improper,
to send Commendations or  Messages to any person by your Superior; you
may make choice of your  equal for that purpose, but chuse rather your
inferior.In relating a story, do not trouble youor Auditors with the valn
repetition of, Do you understand me, mark ye, or observe me; and do
not  accustom your self to the empty tautologies of said he, and said
she.Be backward in discourse of minding any one of any thing which may
renew their grief, or perplex and trouble their spirit.Carelesly to nod, gape, or go away whilst one is speaking, is both
an  act of incivility and stupidity; to laugh, or express any Tom-boy
trick,  is as bad or worse; be careful therefore you do not pat or toy
with her  that sits near you; nor do not that chilish or foolish thing
which may  provoke laughters lest the company, being disposed for such
idle  diversious, take distaste at you, and look upon you as the
subject of  their scorn.It is very ungentle and indiscreet, to peep over any Ladies
shoulder  when she is either writing or reading; or to cast your eye
seriously on  any ones papers lying in your way.Let it be your principal care, of not intruding upon persons in
private discourse, which will discovered 

either by their retirement, their whispering, or by changing their
discourse upon your approach.  Having observed either of these signs,
make it your business to withdraw, lest you incur the censure of
indiscretion.If the person you visit be sick, and in bed, let not your stay be
long: for sick persons are unquiet; and being tyed up to Physick, and
controul'd by its operations, you may offend them  by their being
offensive to you: you must remember likewise to speak low; and urge
him  not to answer as little as you can.In company it is ill-becomingn to break out into loud and violent
laughter, upon any occasion whatever; but worse by far, to laugh
always  without occasion.Rules to be observed in walking with Persons of  Honour; and how you
ought to behave your self in congratulating and  condoling
them. If you walk in a Gallery, Chamber, or Garden, be sure to keep the
left  hand; and without  affectation or trouble to the Lady, recover
that side  every turn.  If you make up the third in  your walk, the
middle is the  most honourable place, and belongs to the best in the
company; the right hand is next, and the left in the lowest
estimation.   If the Lady with  whom you walk, hath a desire to sit
down, to the intent she may repose  her self; if you  pretend any
difference between persons, it would be very ridiculous and  slighting
to leave  her to her rest, whilst you continue walking on.
If you understand a person for whom you have any difference or
respect, meets with a  subject or occasion of rejoycing or sorrowing;
Civility requires you so  to conform your self  that this Lady may be
full perswaded of your affection, and how much you  are concerned  in
all her affairs; and as your Countenances, so ought your Habit
testifie the sentiment of  your heart, as well as words and actions.
How preposterous would it  appear to the  meanest capacity, for any
out of a ridiculous non-conformity, who hearing  of some joyful  and
successful accident which hath befaln some Noble Family of his or her
acquaintance,  repair thither with all the symptoms of sorrow and
melancholy in the  Countenance; and on  the contrary, if it be in
mourning, or under any eminent affliction, to  express all the signs
of joy and satisfaction?And now since I have toucht on Clothes? I think this a fit place to
give you an account of what kind of Habit is most necessary for a
civil,  sober, and modest conversation.Of
Habit, and the neatness and property thereof.   Of Fashions, and their
ridiculous apish  imitation.  The nearness and property of your Clothes, may be said to shew a
great  part of your  breeding.  Property, I call a certain
suitableness and convenience,  betwixt the Clothes and  the Person; as
Civility is the framing and adapting our actions to the  satisfaction
of other  People.  And indeed 

the suitableness and comeliness of your Habit, makes the greatest
discovery of your virtue and discretion; for it must consequently
follow,  that a ridiculous  Garb is the most certain indicium of a
foolish person.Now if you desire to be exact, you ought to proportion your Clothes
to  your shape,  condition, and age; and not to run into excesses,
stimulated thereunto by  too much  exactness, or an overvalu'd
conceit.  And indeed it is a great fault in  our Sex, being very  much
inclin'd to pride it in sin with what our merciful Creator bestow'd
upon us to cover  our shame.  The fruit of a Tree made Woman first to
sin, and the leaves  thereof made her  first covering.How careful ought you to be in your Habit, since by it your modesty
is  best expressed,  your dispositions best discovered?  As none can
probably  imagin such to have modest  minds, who have immodest eyes;
so a Maid  cannot be accounted modest whose attire  openly proclaims
arguments to  the contrary.  It matters not whether the quality of
your Habits be  Silken or Woollen, so they be civil and not wanton.Pardon me, I am not of that Cynical and morose temper of some, who
affirm all gorgeous apparel is the attire of sin; but if it be a sin,
I  am perswaded the quality of the person extenuates the quality
thereof:  For I read, that noble and eminent persons were in all times
admitted to  wear them, and to be distinguished by them; neither
indeed is the  sumptuousness of the Habit so reprehensible, as the
phantasickness in  respect of form and  fashion, which of late hath
been so much affected, 

that all fashion is in a manner exiled.I shall not trouble myself with what the glittering Bona Robv of
our  times think, but I am confident it is Civility which adds most
grace,  Decency which expresseth best state, and  Comeliness in
attire, which procures most love.  These misconceived  ornaments are
meer  deformities to virtuous minds.  Foreign fashions are no baits to
catch  them; nor  phantastick, rather phanatick dressings, to delude
them.  Decency is  their choicest livery,  which sets them forth above
others gaudy pageantry.Those whose erected thoughts sphere them in an higher Orb than this
Circle of frailty; those whose spotless affections have devoted their
best services to goodness, and made modesty the exact mold of all
their  actions, will not easily be induced to stoop to such worthless
brain sick  lures.Now such of you whose generous descent as it claims precedence of
others, so should  your vertuous demeanor in these four things which I
have already spoken  of, viz.  Gesture,  Look, Speech, and Habit,
improve your esteem above others.  In Gesture,  by appearing  humbly
where ever you are, in Look, by disposing it demurely; in Speech,  by
delivering it  moderately; in Habit, by attiring your self
modestly.Frown not on me, Ladies, that I seem to be thus severe in reproving
the excess of Apparel; yet I do not deny, there is a kind of priviledg
in  youth for wearing fashionable Clothes, Jewels and Diamonds, which
Nature  (who doth nothing in vain) hath provided; and whatsoever some
maliciously

may whisper to the contrary; the use of Apparel is to dignifie  the
Wearer, and add more beauty to the Creature, provided the Apparel be
not above the  dignity of her that weareth it, nor doth exceed the
Arithmetick of her  Revenues.But whilst I seem to give you (young Gentlewomen) some allowance of
liberty in your  Clothing; for indeed it is impossible there should be
youth without some  vanity; yet I know  not how to excuse the vain
custom now so much in fashion, to deform the  face with black Patches,
under a pretence to make it appear more beautiful.  It is a riddle to
me, that a  blemish should appear a grace, a deformity be esteemed a
beauty: I am  confident were any  of them born with those half-Moons,
Stars, Coach and Horses, and such  like trumperty,  by which a Lady
becomes a stranger to her self, as well as others, she would give more
money to be freed from them, than a seven years costly expence, in
following the fashion,  would amount to.It must not be denied but that the indulgence of Nature hath left a
greater liberty to Women,  than unto Men, in point of curiosity in
Apparel.  A priviledg which men ought not to envy them, because
whatever  imbellishment she bestows on her own beauty, is to be
supposed an effect  of that great love she would shew to man, by
endeavouring and studying  how to shew her self most complaisant,
grateful, and acceptable to man.   And yet Nature hath limited this
priviledg of Women with strict Laws.   The dictate of this natural
Law, is, ,That no Woman use any Habit

or form of attire but that which contribureth to her truest beauty.
For since the Fall of their first Parent hath subjected them to the
necessity of apparel, they  must ever remember to wear it as an
ornament of decency, and not of  vanity.  But if we  shall examine the
present fashions by the standard of this rule, we shall  find, to the
amazement of sober thoughts, a new-born Law of Custom to have defaced
the  reverend old  Law of Nature.I cannot imagine whence our Ladies borrowed that monstrous and
prodigious custom of patching their faces; if they did borrow it from
the  French, they did ill to imitate such, who it may be made use of
the  fashion out of pure necessity, and not novelty; having
French-pimples,  they needed a French-plaister.  Meer need taught us
at first to build  Houses, and wear Clothes, which afterwards were
used for Ornameent: Who  then can tax their witty-pride (although
justly we may the imitation of  the English Gentry therein) which
could so cunningly turn botches into  beauty, and make ugliness
handsome?  I know not but that the fashion of  wearing Farthingals of
old, were politickly invented to hide the shame of  great Bellies
unlawfully pust up; and of late the large-topt flockings  with
supporters to bear them up, were a good excuse for some hot  Gallants,
in that they stradled so much when they walkt the streets;  whereas,
poor Gentlemen, they could do no otherwise.I have read, that the Indians did accustom themselves to paint the
volume of their bodies all 

over with Apes, Monkies, and other Beasts.  I know not whether our
Laides  have  endeavoured to epitomize their Works, and abridg them
into the narrow  compass of the  Title-page of their own faces.  But
sure I am, that they are much  beholding to the ingenious  Artist,
whose skillful hand much exceeded his who writ the Ten  Commandments
and Pater  noster (to be legibly read) within the compass of a penny.
Such a one is  able to vie with  Wonder it self, since he can pass a
Camel through the eye of a Spanish  Needle without a  Miracle; and
contract a Coach and Horses into the narrow dimension of  four
Gnats.By the impertinent pains of this curious Facespoiling-mender, the
Exchanges (for now we have three great Arsenals of choice Vanities)
are  furnished with a daily supply and variety of Beautyspots (with
many other  things, whose names are only known to the Inventer and
Buyer); and these  Patches are cut out into little Mons, Suns, Stars,
Castles, Birds,  Beasts, and Fishes of all sorts, so that their Faces
may be properly  termed a Landskip of living Creatures.  The vanity
and pride of these  Gentlewomen hath in a manner abstracted Noah's
Ark, and exprest a  Compendium of the Creation in their Front and
Cheeks.  Add to this the  gallantry of their Garb, with all the
Ornamental appurtenances which  rackt Innvention can discover, and
then you will say; there wanted  nothing except it be that which a
Roman Writer said was wanting to the  accomplishments of Poppea Sabina
(Mistris to bloody Nero), That she was  defective in nothing but a
vertueus mind.
Mediocrity in most things is the best rule for your observation: As in
mode and fashion you are to avoid prosusion, so you are to shun
singularity: The one, as well as the other, will render you
ridiculous.   I would not advise you to be obstinate, and altogether
oppose the torrent  of the fashion then in being: for example, should
you now wear a  Farthingal, or  narrow-brim'd Hat with a long crown,
and a strutting Ruff (it is not long  since such things  were in
fashion), a Jack-pudding could not attract more Boys after him,  than
would follow  you.  Or should you always keep in one fashion, you
would be laught at  for our  singularity, almost as much as others for
their profuseness.To avoid this incommodious extravagancy, incline somewhat to the
Mode  of the court,  (which is the source and foundation of fashions);
but let the example of  the most sober,  moderate, and modest, be the
pattern for your imitation.Those who are too remote in the Country, or hindred by any other
impediment to resort to Court, let them acquaint themselves (if they
can)  with some prudent person who is  frequently there, and by her
pattern and direction order your Habit with  reference, as near  as
may be to your quality, age, and estate.  Your own wit and ingenuity
may so contrive  your Clothes, as to retrench a great part of the
luxury of a fashion, and  reduce it to suit with  your convenience,
modesty, and Christian deportment.I have already declared, your Habits ought to be adapted to your
conditions; it is easie to judg 

of the truth of this Rule, if you consider how preposterous you would
appear (being  nobly born) drest in the Habit of a Dairy-maid, or for
a Scullion to be  arry'd in the dress of  a Ladies daughter; this
would be looked on as no other than a Masquerade,  or a Christmass
Mumming.  As it is very unfit to suit your selves unsuitably to your
ocndition, so 'tis  likewise as to your age.  For an old Woman to
habit her self as  youthfully as a  Gentlewoman of fifteen, is as
improper as to sing a wanton song at a  Funeral.  For a young  Woman
to clothe her self in the Habit of a grave and aged Matron is as
preposterous as to  weep and mourn at a merry Gossipirg.Proportion therefore your Clothes to your bodies, and let them be
proper for your persons.  I could not forbear to laugh heartily, when
heretofore I saw a little man lost in a great Band; nor can I now
abstain  from laughter, when I see a man of small stature with a
monstrous broad  brim'd Hat; I have often thought the Hat hath walkt
alone, and that the  narrow Breeches and short Coat shrunk, for fear
of the Hats greatness,  into an exact fitness for an overgrown Mondy
or Baboon.Agreeableness therefore ought to be exact, and adequate both to
age,  person, and  condition, avoiding extremities on both sides,
being neither too much  out, nor in the  fashions.Now lest I have been too rigid concerning Apparel, and so have
justly  incur'd the  displeasure of some Ladies I am ever bound to
respect for those singular  favours they have  from time to time
confer'd on their poor Servant; I shall endeavour to  make them amends
for it, without wronging my Conscience, in this ensuing Chapter. Of
New Fashions. Man at first was left at liberty to be his own Taylor, and had the
whole World to furnish him with all sorts of Materials, both for Stuff
and trimming, and so made his Clothes as he thought fit and
convenient.Hence it is apparent that he was the first fashion inventer; some
of  his posterity imitated him, and others them, and we others; since
then  fashions seem to be left at liberty,  I think no wise man should
reprehend them, unless inconvenient and ridiculous.If Womens palats are not consinable to one sort of meat, why should
their fancies to one particular mode?  Nature is the Mistress of
Variety;  shall we then be so ingrateful to her  various kindnesses as
to rest in the enjoyment of one Individual?  She  made all things for
strength use and ornament; and shall we be so slothful and negligent,
as  not to contemplate  their worth, and applaud them in ourdue
use?It is true, we never heard any thing of Apparel till sin sent man
in  an errand to seek for it; at first it was chosen for a covering
for our  first Parents shame; but their progeny beside that, have
since found a  decency therein.  And certainly good Clothes are not
displeasing to  Heaven; had they been so, God would never have
commanded the Garments of  his High- Priests to be glorious and
beautiful; not only to be rich in the outward  Materials, 

but richly wrought with the best eye-pleasing colours, and refulgent
with  precious Stones and Jewels.The Peacocks starry train we cannot look on, but we must incline to
admiration; and that the glory thereof may not be useless, Nature hath
given that Bird an excellent art to spread it to the best
advantage.I may be bold to say, you sin more in the fordidness of your
Apparel,  than in its splendour; and you will not lose in your
reputations, by  being cloth'd a little above your rank, rather than
altogether beneath  it.  A Jeweller when he would enhance the price of
his Commodity, sets  his precious Stones to the best advantage; and
the richer they are, the  greater is his endeavour and care to grace
them in the luster.  Its true,  a Diamond will sparkle in the dark,
and glitter, though unpolisht or ill  set; yet we think the excellency
of the cut, or water, can never cast  abroad its rays too much.Let me ask the gravest and most prudent Matron living, Whether it
be  not only convenient, but necessary, that as occasion shall require
young  Gentlewomen should be finer than ordinary, as upon their
adddresses and  visitings of persons of Quality, on days of publick
feasting and joy, and  on sollemn and sacred meetings?  Socrates,
thought a serious and four  Philosopher, being askt the question, Why
one day he was so unusual fine  and brave?  answered, That he might
appear handsome to the handsome.  We  ought in our Clothes to conform
our selves to those with whom we do  converse.Besides, we commonly guess at the fatness and goodness 

of the soil, by the grass which  we see upon the ground.  Since most
then judg by outward apparencies, it  is requisite to  provide for a
good estimation, even from externals.I have heard of some profuse Gallants, who having spent all their
money, yet prudently and for credit, have kept good Clothes to their
back, otherwise they might have hoop'd for a Dinner, and look'd for a
Lodging.If there were not a due respect to be had, according to rank and
quality, what use would there be of Scarlet, Velvet, Cloth of Tissue,
Silk, Satten, Jewels, and precious Stones of all sorts?  They would be
accounted superstuous, and rather burdens than benefits to the
world.This is a maxim undeniable, That Nature doth nothing in vain.
Certainly then she had  never produced such multiplicity and quantity
of excellent and  inestimable things, but for  our use and ornament:
Yet withal remember the saying of Demonax, who  feeing a Gallant brave
it in the fashion, and insult with his Feather, whispered these words
in his ear, The  Silk and fine Clothes you boast of, were spun by a
worm, and worn by a  Beast, before  they came on your back, and yet
the Worm continues still a Worm, and a  Beast a Beast;  and the Bird
in whose tayl was the Feather you wear, is a Fowl still,  There are
some  persons whose Gallantry of Apparel can never hide the fool from
them,  whilst others do  grace and are graced by every thing they
wear.  Yet still we must  conclude, that comely  Apparel is to be
prefer'd before what is costly or conceited.Some
choice Observations for a Gentlewomans  Behaviour at Table.  Gentlewomen, the first thing you are to observe, is to
keep your body  strait in the Chair, and do not lean your Elbows on
the Table.  Discover  notby any ravenous gesture your angry appetite;
nor fix your eyes too  greedily on the meat before you, as if you
would  devour more that way than your throat can swallow, or your
stomach  digest.If you are invited abroad, presume not on the principal place at
the  Table, and seem to be perswaded with some difficulty to be
seated, where  your Inviter hath chosen in his opinion the most
convenient place for  you.  Being a Guest, let not your hand be first
in the Dish; and though  the Mistess of the Feast may out of a
Complement desire you to carve, yet  beg her excuse, though you are
better able to do it than her self.In carving at your own Table, distribute the best pieces first, and
it  will appear very comely and decent to use a Fork; if so, touch no
piece  of meat without it.I have been invited to Dinner, where I have seen the good
Gentlewoman  of the House  sweat more in cutting up of a Fowl, than
the Cookmaid in roasting it; and  when she had  foundly beliquor'd her
joints, hath suckt her knuckles, and to work with  them again in the
Dish; at the sight whereof my belly hath been three quarters full,
before  I had swallowed  one bit.  Wherefore avoid clapping your
fingers in your mouth and 

lick them, although you  have burnt them with carving.  Take these
more especial Rules, according  to the newest  and best mode for
Carving.If Chicken-broth be the first dish, and you would help your
principal  Guest with a part of the Chicken, the best piece is the
breast; the wings  and legs are the next;; and of them, the general
opinion of most is, That  in all boil'd Fowl the legs are look'd on as
chief.As to all roasted Fowl, those which are curious in the indulging
their  pallats, do generally  agree, that flying Wild-fowl are much
tendered than Tam-fowl, and quicker  of concoction;  such as scratch
the Earth, and seldom use the Wing, the Legs are to be  preferr'd
before any  other part, the wings and breasts of wild-fowl are
best.The ordinary way of cutting-up a roast-fowl, is by dividing the
four  principal members,  beginning first with the legs; and be not
tedious in hitting the joynts,  which you may avoid  by well
considering with your eye where they lye, before you exercise  your
knife.The best piece to carve to the best in the company, oft the larger
sort of Fowl, as Capons, Turkies, Geese, Duck, and Mallard, Pheasant,
Dottril, Cock of the wood, etc. Is the piece on the breast, observing
always to cut it long-ways towards the rump.  But do not cut your
Oranges  long-ways, but cross.Since in Butchers-meat there are few ignorant of the best pieces,
it  will be to little purpose to give you an account of them in this
place; 

for my design is to treat of that which is not  commonly known:
However, without deviating from my intention, take these  remarks
which follow.In boiled or roasted Beef, that which is interlin'd or interlarded
with fat, is most to be  esteemed; and the short ribs being most sweet
and tender, is to be  preferred before any  other.Cut a Loin of Veal in the middle, and the present the Nut or Kidney
as  the best part in the whole Joint.  Thrust your knife into a Leg of
Mutton  a considerable depth, above the  handle, to let out the gravy;
and begin to cut on the inside, as if you  intended to split it; in
the joint on the other side, is a little bone fit to be presented, and
in  great estimation among  the Curious.I heard of a Gentleman coming from hunting, and falling into a
friend's house, complained he was extreamly hungry; the Mistris
thereof  replied, That she was very sorry she had nothing to
accomodate him with  but a cold Leg of Mutton.  His appetite being
very sharp, made him  commend that Joint beyond any other; whereupon
it was brough: But finding  that choice bone remaining still untoucht,
refused to eat a bit: Being  demanded the reason, Madam, said he, the
(harpness of my Stomach shall  never make me feed uncleanly; for I am
confident they must be Bores and  Clown that first handled this leg of
Mutton, or else their breeding would  have taught them not to have
left untoucht the choicst bit in the whole  joint.  I cannot but
applaud the jest, but I must condemn the rudeness of  the
Gentleman.
A Shoulder of Mutton is to be cut semicircularly, between the handle
and the slap; the  Pope's eye (as it is commonly called) is a choice
bit both in Leg and  Shoulder.In a roasted Pig, the dainty most approve the ears and divided
jaws,  the neck and  middlepiece, by reason of the crackling.  In
Hares, Leverets, and  Rabbets, the most  esteemed (called the
Hunts-mans piece) is by the sides of the tail; and  next to that, is
the  back, legs, and wings, improperly so termed.Some who esteem themselves the Virtuosi for rarity of diet and
choice  provision, esteem (in Fish) the head, and what is near about
it, to be  the best: I must acknowledg it in a Cods-head, with the
various  appurtenances, drest Secundum artem, sparing no cost; such a
dish in Old  and New Fish, street, hath made mmany a Gallant's pocket
bleed freely.   As also, I approve it in a Salmon or Sturgeon, the
Jowles of both being  the best of the Fish; likewise in Pike or Carp,
where note, the tongue of  this last -named is an excellent morsel;
but in other Fish you must  excuse the weakness of my knowledg.  In
Fish that have but one long bone  running down the back (as the Sole),
the middle is to be carved without  dispute; there is none so
unacquainted with fare, to contradict it.If Fish be in paste, it is proper enough to touch it with your
knife;  if otherwise, with your fork and spoon, laying it handsomly on
a plate  with sauce, and so present it.  But should there be Olives on
board, use  your spoon, and not your fork, lest you become the
laughter of the whole  Table.  
All sorts of Tarts, wet-Sweat-meats; and Cake, being cut first in the
dish wherein they were served to the Table, are to be taken up at the
point of your knives, laid dextrously on a  plate, and so presented:
and whatever you carve and present, let it be on  a clean palte; but
by no means on the point of your knife, or fork, not with your spoon.
If  any one careves  to you, refuse it not, though you dislike it.Where you see variety at a Table, ask not to be helpt to any
dainty;  and if you are offered the choice of several-dishes, chuse
not the best;  you may answer, Madam, I am indifferent, your Ladiships
choice shall be  mine.Be not nice nor curious at the Table, for that is undercent; and do
not mump it mince it, nor  bridle the head, as if you either disliked
the meat, or the company.  If  you have a stomach,  eat not
voraciously; nor too sparingly, like an old-fashion'd Gentlewoman  I
have heard of,  who because she would seem (being invited to a Feast)
to be a slender  eater, fed heartily at  home (before she went) on a
piece of poder'd-beef and cabbage; by chance  a steak thereof  fell on
her Russ, and not perceiving it, went so where she was invited;  being
observed to  eat little or nothing, a Gentlewoman askt her why she did
not eat;  Indeed, Madam, said  she, I did eat (before I came forth) a
whole pestle of a Lark to my  Breakfast, and that I  think hath
deprived me of my appetite.  The witty Gentlewoman presently replaied,
I am  easily induced to believe you fed on that Bird, for on your Ruff
I see  you have brought a 

feather of him with you.  Thus your nicety may be discovered by means
you  dream not of,  and thereby make your self the subject of publick
laughter.On the other side, do not bawl out aloud for any thing you want;
as, I  would have some of that; I like not this; I hate Onions; Give
me no  Pepper: But whisper softly to one, that he or she may without
noise  supply your wants.If you be carved with any thing (as I said before) which you do not
like, conceal (as much as in your lieth) your repugnancies, and
receive  it however: And though your disgust many times is invincible,
and it  would be insufferable  tyranny to require you should eat what
your  Stomach nauseats; yet it will shew your civility to accept it,
though you  let it lye on your plate, pretending to eat, till you meet
with a fit  opportunity of changing your plate,  without any palpable
discovery of your disgust.If you are left to your own liberty, with the rest, to carve to
your  self, let not your hand be in the dish first, but give way to
others; and  besure to carve on that side of the dish only  which is
next you, not overcharging your plate, but laying thereon a  little at
a time.  What  you take, as near as you can let it be at once; it is
not civil to be  twice in one dish, and much  worse to eat out of it
piece by iece; and do not (for it favours of  rudeness) reach your
arms  over other dishes to come at that you like better.  Wipe your
spoon every  time you put it  into the dish, otherwise

you may offend some squeamish stomacks.  Eat not so fast,  though very
hungry, as by gormandizing you are ready to choak your  selves.  Close
your  lips when you eat; talk not when you have meat in your mouth;
and do not  smack like a  Pig, nor make any other noise which shall
prove ungrateful to the  company.  If your  pottage be so hot your
mouth cannot endure it, have patience till it be  of a fit coolness;
for it  is veryunseemly to blow it in your spoon, or otherwise.Do not venture to eat Spoon-meat so hot, that the tears stand in
your  eyes, or that thereby you betray your intolerable greediness, by
beraying  the room, besides your great  discomposure for a while
afterwards.  Do not bit your bread, but cut or  break what you are
about to eat; and keep not your knife always in your hand, for that is
as  unseemly as a  Gentlewoman who pretended to have as little a
stomach as she had a mouth,  and therefore  would not swallow her
Pease by spoonfuls, but took them one by one, and  cut them in two
before she would eat them.Fill not your mouth so full, that your checks shall swell like a
pair  of Scotch-bag-pipes; neither cut your meat into too big
pieces.Gnaw no bones with your Teeth, nor suck them to come at the marrow:
Be  cautious, and not over-forward in dipping or sopping in the dish;
and  have a care of letting fall any thing you are about to eat,
between the  plate and your mouth.It is very uncivil to criticize or find fault 

with any dish of meat or sauce during the repast,  or more especially
at another's Table; or to ask what such a Joint or  such a Fowl cost;
or to  trouble your self and others with perpetual discourses of Bills
of Fare,  that being a sure  sign of a foolish Epicure.It is very uncomely to drink so large a draught, that your breath
is  almost gone, and are  forced to blow strongly to recover your
self: nor let it go down too  hastily, lest it force you  to an
extream cough, or bring it up again, which would be a great  rudeness
to nauseate the  whole Table; and this throwing down your liquor as
into a Funnel, would  be an action fitter  for a Juggler than a
Gentlewoman.  If you sit next a Person of Honour, it  will behove you,
not to receive your drink on that side; for those who are accurately
bred, receive it generally  on the other.It is uncivil to rub your teeth in company, or to pick them at or
after meals, with your knife; or otherwise; for it is a thing both
indecent and distastful.Thus much I have laid down for your observation in general; wherein
I  am defective as to particulars, let your own prudence, discretion,
and  curious observation supply.
Rules for a Gentlewomans behaviour at a Ball   Ladies, it is presumed you know the grounds of
Dancing, else your  resort to a Ball  amongst well-accomplisht
Gentlewomen, would not only be improper but very  much  hazard your
repute and good esteem among them; and as you can dance, so I  would
have  you understand the rules and formalities of dancing, which are
practised   in that place.If you are skilful in this faculty, be not difficulty perswaded to
make a demonstration of your art.  A fault is found in many of whom if
you request a Dance or Song, they will be  dear to all your
importunities; but may be when you are out of humour,  and have left
them  to their own liberty, will dance so long till they have tired
themselves  and the Spectators;  and Sing till they have neither
voice, nor their Auditors ears.I say, if you have skill, be not over-conceited thereof, lest it
lead  you into the error of  engaging in some Dance you do not
understand; or but imperfectly.If you are perswaded to Dance, and though you alledg, a great many
Apologies to the  contrary, yet when you find your self obliged
thereunto, by no means  refuse.  For it is  much better to expose your
self to some little disorder in being  complacent, than be  suspected
of pride.Rules to be observed by a Gentlewoman in Vocal  and Instrumental
Musick.  Do not discover upon every flight occasion you can
sing or play upon  any Instrument of Music; but if it be known ot any
particular friend in  company; whom you have a speciaal  respect for,
and he or she perswade you to sing, excuse your self as  modestly as
you may;  but if your friends persist, satisfie their desires, and
therein you will  express no part of ill  breeding: your prompt and
ready compliance thereunto shall serve you  against censure;  whereas,
a refractory resistance favours of one that makes a livelyhood  of the
prosession,  and must expect to have but small doings, if there be no
better  recommendation than that  distastful kind of morosity.Use not your self to hemming or hauking, a foolish custom of some
endeavoring to clear their throat thereby; nor be not too long in
tuning  your instrument.Having commenced your Harmony, do not stop in the middle thereof to
beg attention, and consequently applause to this trill, or that
cadence,  but continue without interruption what you have begun, and
make an end so  as not to be tedious, but leave the Company an
appetite: As you would desire silence from others being thus applied,
be  you attentive, and  not talkative when others are exercising their
harmonious voices.Let the Songs you make choice of be modest, 

yet witty, and ingenious; and because there  are so many, which though
they may please the ear, yet may corrupt good  manners;; let me  give
you this caution to have a care.Of
wanton Songs, and idle Ballads. Let your prudence renounce a little pleasure for a great deal of
danger.  To take delight in an idle vain Song without flaining your
self  with the obscenity of it, is a thing in my mind almost
impossible; for  wickeness enters insensibly by the ear into the Soul,
and what care  soever we take to guard and defend our selves, yet
still it is a  difficult task not to be tainted with the pleasing and
alluring poyson  thereof.Physicians endeavour to perswade the wiser sort of men, as well as
ignorant and credulous women, That a Mother fixing stedfastly her eye
on  a Picture, she will secretly convey the Complexion, or some other
mark on  the Infant; from hence we may be induced to believe, That the
lascivious  and wanton expressions contain'd in some Songs and Ballads
may have The  same effect in our imagination, and do most frequently
leave behind them  some foul impressions in our spirits.The reading these wanton things do heat by little and little; it
insensibly takes away the  horrour and repugnancy you ought to have to
evil; by this means you  acquaint your self so  thorowly with the
image of Vice, that afterwards you fear it not though  you meet with
Vice  it self.Licentiousness is not bred in a moment, at one 

and the same instant; so the contagion of  loose Songs seizeth by
degrees on the heart; they may be said to work on  the minds of  youth
as seed in the ground, it first appears only above the surface of  the
Earth, but every  day afterwards adds to its growth till it be fit for
the sickle.Nay more, these Songs of wantonness will breed in you a more than
fitting boldness,  which will put you on the confidence of practising
what you read or sing.   Assure your  self, if you admit of a
familiarity with these things, your innocency  will be in daily
danger.You may easily believe this to be truth, if you consider the
mmultiplicity of vanity and  trumpery which stuff these Ballads; how
an amorous or rather  foolishly-fond Virgin  forsook Kindred and
Country, to run after a stranger and her Lover.  In  another you find
how crafily two Lovers had plotted their private meetings to prosecute
their unlawful  enjoyments; and Letters that pass between for the
continuation of their  affection; which  straight-ways makes the
Reader up to the ears in Love.  In the one is  exprest the Constancy
of two Fools one to the other; in the other, what trouble, what
hazard,  and what not, they  run into, to ruin themselves, distract
their Parents, and leave a stain  on their own  reputations, never to
be washt out.These are the things which contain curring Lessons to learn the
younger sort to sin more wittily; and therefore no judicious person
can  comprehend with what reason these  dangerous Songs and Sonnets
can be justified.The Lacedemonians prohibited Plays, because 

Adulteries were exhibited; then why should  such Pamphlets be
permitted where such dishonest actions, lascivious  examples, and
extravagant passions are maintained?  Shall it be said, that
Christians  have less love for  Virtue than Infidels?Ladies, accuse me not of too much severity, in endeavouring to take
away this too much accustomed delight in singing wanton, though witty
Sonnets: I say excuse me rahter, since I aim at nothing more than your
welfare.  I know your inclinations, as you are young and youthful,
tend  rather to these things, than what is more serious; and are apt
to read  those Books which rahter corrupt and deprave good manners
than teach  them.Some may be so vain as to delight more in a Comedy than a Sermon,
and  had rather hear a Jack-pudding than a preacher: This made a sober
Philosopher complain, he had fewer Scholars than such a one of meaner
parts, and greater Libertine; because there are more who haunt the
School  of Voluptiousness, than that of Virtue; and we love them
better who  flatter and make us merry, than those who tell us the
truth, and the  danger, if we follow not her precepts.Wherefore I cannot allow of any sort of Poetry, though it be ever
so  ingenious, if Vice lurk therein to do you harm; and wheresoever
you find  Vice, let it be your intention and strong resolution to
fight against it,  and throw aside all those instruments and
implements, which will but  learn you to sin with the greater
dexterity. 
This is one vanity the younger sort incline to, and there are a great
many more which our Sex (and to their shame) are prone to follow, take
a  brief account of them.Of
the Vanities some young Ladies and  Gentlewomen are too prone to
prosecute. I need not speak of the vanity of Gentlewomen in overmuch affecting
bravery, since we find it thorosly ingrafted in most of them, so that
we  may as easily take off their skins from their bodies, as this
vanity from  their minds.If this were to be observed only in some particular Court-Ladies,
it  were something  excusable; but this is an innate humour, an
original sin which  Gentlewomen bring into the  world with them; the
tinncture of which infirmity their Baptism washeth  not off.  From
hence proceeds the Babel or confusion of Habits, insomuch that of late
there is neither  order observed, nor distinction; a Chamber maid
finished on a Festival or  Holiday, may be  taken for her Mistress,
and a Citizens Wife mistaken for a  Court-Lady.Where shall we find any so regular as to follow the dictates of
Modesty and Mediocrity, so that the most severe cannot blame their
superstuities, nor the more favourable accuse their defects?  A young
Gentlewoman well accomplisht, is like a Star with five rays, Devotion,
Modesty, Chastity, Discretion and Charity; such Women whose
composition  is made up of these, 

seem to have been moulded upon the Coelestial Globes, by the hands of
Cherubims;  so excellent are their Virtues, and so sweet their
deportments; they are  in their Houses as  the Sun in his proper
Sphere: Should I attempt to represent their worth,  I might sooner
find  poverty in the Center of all the rich Ore and precious stones of
the  Earth, than want of merit  in this subject.Were all our Sex of the same tempter, by being inhabitants of this
Earth, they would  speedily convert it into a Heaven.  But alas, too
many there are who  every day must be  dressed up like Idols, as if
they intended thereby to be worshipped.   Their Filles de  Chambre
have more to do in attending their Beauties, than some have in fitting
and rigging  out a Navy.  Their lass ith studied advantages takes up
the whole  morning, and the  afternoon is spent in visits.And indeed should a man come into some Ladies Chambers unacquainted
with the  Furniture that belong'd to them, and seeing them lie on the
Table, having  never seen such  vanities before, would think them the
coverings and utensils of some  Creature of a  montrous and prodigious
bulk, and that there was Mercery enough to  furnish a little City,
rather than the body of a little Lady.  They may be fitly compared to
some Birds I have  seen, who though they have but little bodies, yet
have abundance of  Feathers.  And though  they seem to load themselves
with variety of things, yet they do but seem  to cover what  they
should disclose to none; and though they have but 

little flesh, they will show as much  of it as they can.  It was a
true saing of one, and very applicable to  this purpose, I know  not
what may be reserved for the eyes of a chast Husband, when almost
through all  Markets where they go, the secret parts of his Wives body
are exposed, as  if they were  ready to be delivered to the best
bidders.Moreover, how dangerous is it for young Gentlewomen to affect a
small  Waste, thinking that the most exquisite proportion?
Endeavouring by  strait-lacing to be as slender in the middle as the
Strand-May-pole is  tall in its height.  I am sure they are big enough
to be wiser, who never  think themselves finer, than when the Girl
with her span can make a  Girdle.  I know Gentlewomen, that th
einconveniences which attend this  affectation, do not  proceed
altogether from you, or that you are in the fault, but your  Mothers
or Nurses: But  did they know how speedily and wilfully they destroy
you by girding your  tender bodies,  certainly they would prove kinder
Mothers, than be your cruel Murderers.   For by this  means they
reduce your bodies into such pinching-extremities, that it  engenders
a stinking  breath; and by cloistering you p in a steel or
Whale-bone-prison, they  open a door to  Consumptions, with many other
dangerous inconveniences, as crookedness:  for Mothers  striving to
have their daughters bodies small in the middle, do pluck and  draw
their bones  awry; for the ligatures of the back being very tender at
that age, and  soft and moist, with all  the Muscles, do easily slip
aside.  Thus Nurses, whilst they too straitly  do lace the breasts

and sides of children and purpose to make them slender, do occasion
the  breast bone to cast  it self aside, whereby ne shoulder doth
become bigger and fuller than the  other.Though I would not have too great a restriction laid on your
bodies,  yet I would not have them by inconsiderate loosness run out
into a  deformed corpulency, like the Venetian- Ladies, who seldom,
lace themselves, at all, accounting it an excellency  in proportion to
be  round and full-bodied; and that they may attain that (meerly
supposed)  comeliness if Nature  incline them not to be somewhat gross
or corpulent, they will use art, by  counterfeiting that  fulness of
body, by the fulness of garments.  Thus you see, that in all  things
(except Piety)  Mediocrity, or the Golden-mean, is to be
observed.Of a
young Gentlewoman's fit hours and times for  their Recreation and
Pleasure, and how to govern themselves, therein.  The chiel thing that you ought to consider is how to govern and
behave  your selves in your Pastimes: Wisdom therein must be your
guide; and the  chief rule it can teach you, is To shun all pleasures
which are lawful,  exceed not the Rule, nor Moderations which
consists, first, in not giving  offence, scandal, damage, or
prejudice, to your associates or others:  Next, that it be without
injury to your health, reputation, or business.   Lastly, Let, your
Recretion be with moderation.
You must by no means make pleasure your business, but by the enjoyment
thereof return with more alacrity and cheerfulness to your business.
Young Ladies may use it; but not abuse it, which they never do more
than  in the excess thereof; for it softneth and weakeneth the vigour
both of  Soul and Body, it besotteth and best complexions, nd
banisheth the  principal Vertues.If pleasure be taken as it was at first provided, it will be taken
without a sting; but if you  exceed either in measure or manner, you
pollute the purer stream, and  drink your own  destruction.  The
Hearthen of old did put a cheek on Men and Women,  forbidding them to
let loose the reins to all the corrupt and mistaken pleasure of this
life, much more should  Christians forbear the inordinate enjoyment of
them.Above all, these pleasures are most to be commended, which in every
respect are so  lawful, that they leave in   the Conference no private
check behind them  to upbraid the  sense for the unlawful using of
them.  He that plungeth himself into a  puddle, doth but  engage
himself thereby to an after-washing, to purge that filth away he
contracted by that  imprudent action.  Or would you be so made to feed
on that you are  certain will make you  sick in the eating?  Almighty
God would never have allowed you the desire  of pleasure, nor  the
faculties to enjoy it, if he had not design'd that with decency you
should use them.  An  action of this kind is but natural, and will not
be unlawful unless it be  found to run into  excess attended with
unlawful circumstances.
There is so much corruption adhering to the use of pleasure, by
exceeding the measure,  mistaking the manner, misplacing the time,
that although Recreations be  lawful in  themselves, yet if they be
circumstanced amiss, they are not  expedient.Recreations and pleasures are indisputably lawful, if you are not
irregular in measure,  manner, or time; had they been otherwise our
most wise and merciful  Creator would never  have made them so
distinct in their kinds, nor so many in their number.   All the
several  tastes in food and fruit were intended to lease the pallate;
as well as  satisfie the appetite.  Of  all the beautiful and pleasant
fruits in Paradise there was but one only  Tree excepted.  From  hence
it may be concluded, Mankind may enjoy those delights which they  have
a well- grounded inclination unto, with this proviso, they abuse them
not.Before you do or act any thing, examine well the sequel; if that be
clear the present  enjoyment will be accompanied with content,
otherwise it will end in  repentance.What
Recreations and Pleasures are most fitting  and proper for young
Gentlewomen. Recreations which are most proper and suitable to Ladies, may be
rankt  under four  principal heads, Musick, Dancing, Limting and
Reading.  Of Dancing I have  already lightly  treated on in the
directions for your deportment at Balls; however this I  will say
further of  it, that though the Romans had no very great esteem 

for it as may appear by Salusts  speaking of Sempronia, She danced
better than became a virtuous Lady, yet  the mode and  humour of these
times look upon it not only as a generous and becoming  property, but
look  upon Gentility illbred if not thorowlyacquainted therewith; and
to speak  the truth it is the  best and readiest way to put the body
into a graceful posture; behaviour  must of necessity  halt without
it; and how will you blush when you come into a mixt  society, where
each  person strives to shew her utmost art and skill in Dancing, and
you for  the want thereof  must stand still and appear like one whose
body was well framed but  wanted motion, or a  soul to actuate it.In the next place, Musick is without doubt an excellent quality;
the  ancient Philosophers  were of the opinion, that Souls were made
of Harmony's and that that Man  or woman  could not be virtuously
inclined who loved not Musick; wherefore without  it a Lady or
Gentlewoman can hardly be said to be absolutely accomplished.Limning is an excellent qualification for a Gentlewoman to exercise
and please her fance  therein.  There are many foreign Ladies that are
excellent Artists  herein; neither are there  wanting Examples enough
in his Majesty's three Kingdoms of such  Gentlewomen, whose
indesatigable industry in this jaudable and ingenious Art, may run
parallel with such as  make it their profession.Some may add Stage plays as a proper recreation for Gentlewomen; as
to  that (provided 

they have the consent of Parents or Governess) I shall leave them to
make  use of their own  liberty, as they shall think convenient.I am not ignorant that Stage-plays have been much envy'd at, and
not  without just cause;  yet most certain it is, that by a wise use,
and a right application of  many things we hear and  see contain'd
therein, we may meet with many excellent precepts for  instruction,
and  sundry great Examples for caution, and such notable passages,
which being  well applied  (as what may not be perverted) will confer
no small profit to the  cautious and judicious  Hearers.  Edward the
Sixth the Reformer of the English Church, did so  much approve of
Plays, that he appointed a Courtier eminent for wit and fancy to be
the  chief Officer in  supervising, ordering, and disposing what
should be acted or represented  before his  Majesty; which Office at
this time retains the name of Master of the  Revels.  Queen Elizabeth,
that incomparable Virtuous Princess, was pleased to term Plays  the
harmless  Spenders of time, and largely contributed to the maintenance
of the  Authors and Actors of  them.But if the moderate recourse of Gentlewomen to Plays may be
excused,  certainly the daily and constant frequenting them, is as
much to be  condemned.There are an hundred divertisements harmless enough, which a young
Lady may find out, suitable to her, inclination; but give me leave to
find out one for her which hath the  attendance of profit as well as
pleasure and that is Reading.
Mistake me not; I mean the reading of Books whose subjects are noble
and honourable.   There are some in these later days so Stoical, that
they will not allow  any Books to  Womankind, but such as may teach
them to read, and the Bible.  The most  severe of them  do willingly
permit young Gentlewomen to converse with wise and learned  men; I
know  not then by what strange nicety they would keep them from
reading their  Works.  There are  a sort of Religious men in foreign
parts, who do not debar the people  from knowing there  is a Bible;
yet they prohibit them from looking into it.I would sain ask these sowre Stoicks what can be desired for the
ornament of the mind,  which is not largely contain'd and exprest in
Books? Where Virtue is to  be seen in all her  lovely and glorious
dresses, and Truth discovered in what manner soever  it is desired.
We  may behold it in all its force, in the Philosophers; with all its
purity  in faithful Historians;  with all its beauty and ornaments in
golden-tonu'd Orators, and ingenious  Poets.In this pleasing variety (whatsoever your humour be) you may find
matter for delectation  and information. Reading is of most exquisite
and  requisire use, it for  nothing but this that  these dumb Teachers
instruct impartially.  Beauty, as well as Royalty, is  constantly
attended with more flatterers than true informers.  To discover and
acknowledg their faults,  it is necessary that they sometimes learn of
the dead what the living  either dare not or are  loth to tell them.
Books are the true discoverers of the mind's 

imperfections, as a glass the  faults of their face, herein shall they
find Judges that cannot be  corrupted with love or hate.   The fair
and the foul are both alike treated, having to do with such who  have
no  other eyes  but to put a diffeence betwen Virtue and Vice.  In
perswading you to  read, I do not advise  you should read all Books;
advise with persons of understanding in your  choice of Books;  and
fancy not their quantity for quality but quality.  For why should ye
seek that in many  which you may find in one?  The Sun, whilst in our
Hemisphere needs no  other light but  its own to illuminate the World.
One Book may serve for a Library.  The  reading of few  Books, is not
to be less knowing, but to be the less troubled.Of
the guidance of a Ladies love and fancy.   I suppose you, virtuous Ladies and Gentlewomen to whom I direct
this  Discourse, yet  know, that though you are victoriously seated in
the Fort of Honour, yet  Beauty cannot be  there planted, but it must
be attempted.  However I would have you so  constantly gracious  in
your resolves, that though it be assaulted, it can not be soiled;
attempted but never  attainted.How incident and prone our whole Sex is to love, especially when
young, my blushes will acknowledg without the assistance of my tongue;
now since our inclination so generally  tend to love and fancy, and
knowing withal how much the last good or evil  of our whole  lives
depend thereno, give me leave to trace them in all or most part of
their

Meandirs, wherein you will find such suitable instructions as will
give  you for the future fate and found direction.Fancy is an affection privily received in by the eye, and speedily
convey'd to the heart; the eye is the Harbinger, but the heart is the
Harbourer.Look well before you like; love conceived at first sight seldom
lasts  long, therefore  deliberate with your love, lest your love be
misguided; for to love at  first look makes an  house of misrule.Portion may wode at Wordling, Proportion a youthful Wanton, but it
is  Vertue which wins the heart of Discretion; admit he have the one
to  purchase your esteem, and the other to  maintain your Estate, yet
his breast is not so transparent as to know the  badness of his
disposition; if you then take his humour on trust, it may prove so
perverse and peevish,  that your expected Heaven of bliss may be
converted into an Haven of  insupportable  croses.  Themistockes being
asked by a Noble-man, whether he had rather  marry his  Daughter to a
vicious Rich man or an Honest poor man; return'd this  answer, That he
had  rather have a man without money than money without a man.  Whence
it was  that prudent  Portia replied, being asked, When she would
marry? Then said she, When I  find one that  seeks me, and not
mine.There is no time requires more modesty from a young Gentlewoman;
than  in wooing, time a shamefull red then best commends her, and is
the most  moving Orator that speaks in her behalf.  

Like Ventur Silver-Dove she is ever brouzing on the Palm of Peace,
while  her  Cheeks betray her love more than her tongue.There is a pretty pleasing kind of wooing drawn from a conceived
yet  concealed fancy.    Might they chose, they would converse with
them freely, confort with them  friendly, and  impart their truest
thoughts fully, yet would they not have their bashful  loves find
discovery.Phillis, to willows, like a cunning
FlyerFlys, yet she fears her Shepherd
should not spy her. Whatever you do be not induced to marry one you have either
abhorrency or loathing to;  for it is neither affluence of estate,
potency of friends, nor highness  of discent can allay the
insufferable grief of a loathed bed.  Wherefore (Gentlewomen) to the
inent you may shew  your selves discreetest in that, which requires
your discretion most,  discuss with your  selves the parity of love
and the quality of your Lover, ever reflecting  on those best
endowments which render him worthy or unworthy of your greatest
estimation.  A discreet  eye will not be taken only with a
proportionable body,or smooth  countenance; it is not the  rind but
the mind that is her Loadstone. Justina a Roman Maid, no less nobly descended than notably
accomplished, exclaimed  much against her too rigid fate in being
married to one more rich than  wise: And good  reason had she, being
untimely made by his groundless jealousie a sad  tragick spectacle of
misery.  

For the whiteness of her neck was an object which begot in him a
slender 
argument of suspect, which he seconded with rash revenge. Let deliberation then; be the Scale wherein you may weigh love
with  an equal poize.  There are many high consequent-circumstances
which a  discreet Woman will not only discourse, but discuss, before
she enter  into that hazardous though honourable state of
Marriage.Disparity in  descent, fortunes, friends, do often beget a
distraction in the mind.    Disparity of years breeds dislike,
obscurity of descent begets contempt,  and inquality of fortunes
discontent. If you marry one very young, bear with his youth, till riper
experience bring him to a better understanding.  Let your usage be
more  easie than to wean him from what he effects by extremity.  Youth
will  have his swinge; time will reclaim, and discretion will bring
him  home at last.  So conform your self to him as to confirm your
love in  him, and undoubtedly  this conjugal duty, mixt with
affibility, will compleatly conquer the  moroseness of his  temper.
If he be old, let his age beget in you the greater rever once;  his
words shall be as  so many aged and time improved precepts to inform
you; his aactions as so  many directions  to guide you; his kind
rebukes as so many friendly admonitions to reclaim  you his Bed you
must so honour, as not to let an unchast thought defile it; his
Counsel  so keep, as not to  trust it in any others breast; be a staff
in his age to support him, and  an hand upon all  occasions to help
him.
 If he be rich, this shall not or must not make you proud; but let
your desire be that you both employ it to the best advantage.
Communicate to the Needy, that your Wealth may make you truly happy.
That is a miserable Wealth which starves the Owner.  I have heard of
one  worth scores of thousands of pounds who bought billers not for
fewel but  luggage; not to burn them and so warm himself, but to carry
them on a  frosty morning up stairs and down,  and so heat himself by
that labouring exercise.  Wherefore let me  perswade you to enjoy your
own, and so shun baseness; reserve a provident care for your own and
so avoid  profuseness.  Is your Husband fallen to poverty; let hhis poor condition make
you  rich; there is certainly  no want, where there wants no content.
It is a common saying, That as  Poverty goes in at  one door Love goes
out at the other; and love without harbour falls into  a cold and
aguish  distemper; let this never direct your thoughts, let your
affection  counterpoize all afflictions.   No adversity should divide
you from him, if your vowed faith hath  individually tyed you to
him. Thus if you expostulate, your Christian constant resolves shall
make  you fortunate.  If your fancy be on grounded deliberation, it
will  promise you such good success, as your  Marriage-days shall
never fear the bitter encounter of untimely  repentance, nor the
cureless  anguish of an afflicted conscience. Now as I would have you, entlewomen, to be slow in entertaining,
so  be most constant in retaining.  Lovers or Favourites are not to be
worn 

like Favers; now near your bosom, or  about your wrist, and presently
out of all request.  Which to prevent  entertain none so near  your
heart, whom you observe to harbour in his breast somethng that may
deserve your  hate. Carefully avoid the acquaintance of Strangers, and neither affect
variety nor glory in the  multiplicity of your Suitors.  For there is
no greater argument of  mutability and lightness.   Constant you
cannot be where you profess, if change you do affect.  Have  a care;
vows  deliberately advised, and religiously grounded, are not to be
slighted or  dispensed with.   Before any such things are made, sist
him, if you can find any bran in  him, task him,  before you tye your
self to take him.  And when you desires are drawn to  this period,
become so taken with the love of your Choice, as to interpret all his
actions in the best  sense; this will make one Soul rule two hearts
and one heart dwell in two  bodies. Before you arrive to this honourable condition all wanton fancy
you  must lay aside, for it  will never promise you good success since
the effect cannot be good where  the object is  evil.  Wanton love
hath a thousand devices to purchase a minutes  penitential pleasure.
Her  eye looks, and by that the sense of her mind is averted; her ear
hears,  and by it the intention  of the heart is perverted; her smell
breaths, and by it her good thoughts  are hindred; her  mouth speaks,
and by it others are deceived; by touch, her heat of desire  upon
every small  occasion is stirred: never did Orlando  rage more for his
Angelica than 

these Vtopian   Lovers for their imaginary shadows. These exorbitancies we must endeavour to remedy; and that therein
we  may use the method of art, we must first remove the cause, and the
effect  will follow.  Let me then discover the effects arising from
them, and  lastly their cure or remedy. The original grounds of this wanton fancy, or wandring phrenzie,
are  included in these two lines.Sloth, Words, Books, Eyes, Consorts, and luscions
fare,  The lures of lust, and stains of
honour are. For the first, sententious Seneoa faith, He had rather be exposed
to  the utmost extremities  Fortune can inflict on him, than subject
him self to Sloth and  Sensuality.  For it is this only  which maketh
of Men, Women; of Women, Beasts; and of Beasts Monsters. Secondly, Words corrupt the Disposition they set on edg or gloss
on  depraved liberty;  making that member offend most, when it should
be imployed in profiting  most. Thirdly, Books treating of light Subjects are Nurseries of
wantonness; remove them timely from you, if they ever had
entertainment  by you, lest like the Snake in the Fable, they  annoy
you. Fourthly, Eyes are those windows by which death enters.  Eve
looked  on the fruit before  she coveted, coveting, she tasted; and
tasting, 

she perished; place them then on those  objects whose real beauty
make, take them, and not on such vanities which  miserably taint
them. Fifthly, Consorts are thieves of time, which will rob you of many
precious opportunities   Chuse then such Consorts of whom you may have
assured hope, that they  will either better  you or be better'd by
you.  Chuse such whom you may admire when you see  and hear  them;
when you see their living Doctrine, and hear their wholsome
instruction. Lastly, Luscious fare is the fewel of inordinate desires, which
you  must abstain from, or be very temperate in, if you intend to have
your  understanding strengthned, virtue nourished,  and a healthy
bodily Constitution. The next thing we are to insist upon, is the evil effects of this
wanton fancy, many may be  here inserted, might I not be taxed with
prolixity, and terrifie the  Reader with examples of  too much horror
and cruelty.  But if you would understand them, our late  Italian
Stories  will afford you variety, for the satisfaction of your
curiosity; where  indiscreet love closeth  her doleful Scene  with so
miserable an Exit, as no Pencil can express  any picture more to  the
life than an Historical line hath drawn out the web of their
misfortunes. Now to cure this desperate malady (though to you, Gentlewoman, I
hope  the cure is need,  less, being void of all such violent
distempers) the best and most  soveraign Receipt, is to  fortifie the
weakness of your Sex with strength of resolution.  Be not  too liberal
in the  bestowing 

your favours nor too familiar in publick converse. Make a contract with your eyes not to wander abroad, less they be
catcht in coming home.   Treat not of love too freely, play no waggish
tricks with the blind boy;  he hath a dangerous  aim, though he hath
no eyes; sport not with him that may hurt you; play  not with him that
would play on you.  Your sports will turn to an ill jell, when you are
wounded in earnest;  let the Sly be your Emblem.So long the follish Fly plays with the
flame, Till her light wings are sindged
in the same. Be watchful; there are many snards which students in Loves
mysteries  have laid to entrap  Female credulity: How many are there
can tip their tongues with  Rhetorical protestations,  purposely to
gull a believing creature, for the purchase of an unlawful  pleasure;
which no  sooner obtained, than the person slighted and left alone to
bemoan her  irrecoverable lost  honour?  With more safety therefore
ought you to suspect, than too rashly  to affect; and be  sure you
check your wild fancy by time lest a remediless check attend  your
choice.   Repentance comes too late at the Marriage- night. And yet I cannot commend your extraordinary coolness in affection,
slighting all, as if  none were worthy of your choice.  The extreams
of these two indisposed  fancies ought to  be seasoned with an
indiffernt temper. Now the difference betwixt a wife and a wild love is this; The one
ever deliberates 

before it loves; and the other loves before it deliberates.  There are a sort of wild Girls who compute their riches by the
quantity of their Suitors.  I  have heard of a couple of Maids of
different tempers; who contending with  one another,  said the one, I
have such and such vertuous and wealthy relations.  I but  replied the
other) I  have more Suiters than thou hast friends.  More shamless you
(Answered  the other) unless  you mean to set up an house of
entertainment.  Such an one as this, never  cares for more  than to be
married, if she may but one Comical-day all her life: Yea, it  is as
well as can be  expected from their hands, if they attain unto that
srite without some  apparent foil.  Such as  these I could wish, to
prevent the worst, they were married betimes, lest  they marry
themselves before time, To you then, kind-hearted Gentlewomen, am I to recommend some
necessary cautions; the careful observation of which I hope will
prevent  that danger which threatens the goodness  of your Sex and
Natures.  The Index of your hearts you carry in your eyes  and
tongues; for  shame learn silence in the one, and secrecy in the
other.  Give not the  power to an insulting  Lover to triumph over
your weakness; and which is worse, to work on the  opportunity of your
lightness.  Rather dam up those portals which betray you to your
enemy; and prevent  his entry by your vigilancy.  Keep home and
straggle not, lest by gadding  abroad you fall

into Dinah's danger and mishap.  Let not a stray'd thought prove the
Traytor to your  Innocency.  Check your roving fancy; and if it use
resistance, curb it  with greater restraint. And now a word or two to you coy Ladies whom either coldness of
nature hath benumb'd  or coyness hath made subtil to dissemble it.
You can look and like, and  yet turn away your  head from what you
love most.  No object of love can take you, till it  overtake you.
You may be modest, and spare a great deal of this coyness; yet so
conceal  and smoothly  palliate your love, as your Lover may not
despair of obtainingg it.   Indifferent courtesies  you may shew
without lightness, and receive them too in lieu of  thankfulness. Have a special regard to your Honour, which is of an higher esteem
than to be  undervalued.  Light occasions are often-times grounds of
deep aspersions.   Actions are to  be seasoned with discretion,
seconded by direction, strengthned with  instruction, lest too  much
rashness bring the undertaker to destruction. In the Labyrinth of this Life, many are our Cares, mighty are our
Fears, strong our  Assailants, weak our assistance; and therefore we
had ned have the  Brasen-wall within us,  to fortifie us against these
evil occurrents.  The scene of your life is  short; so live then that
your noble actions may-preserve your memory long.  It was the advice
of  Seneca to his  Friend, Never to do any thing without imagining a
Cato, a Scipio, or some  other worthy  Roman  was present.  To second
his advice (which may confer 

on your glorious actions  eternal praise set always before your eyes,
as an imitable mirrour, some  good Woman or  other, before whom you
may live, as if the eyed and continually viewed  you.  There is no
scarcity of Examples of such famous Women, who though weak in Sex and
condition, yet  parallels to Men for Charity, Chastity; Piety, Purity,
and vertuous  Conversation.   It will  not be amiss here in this
place, to insert some few eminent patterns for  your
limitation. The
Gentlewomans Mirrour, or Patterns for them  imitation of such famous
Women who have been emment in Piety and  Learning. Revisit those ancient Families of Rome, and you shall find those
Matrons made a Pagan  State seem Morally Christian.  Octavia, Portia,
Cecilia, Cornelia, were  such, who though  dead, their actions will
make their memories live perpetually: Nor were  Niostrata, Corvina and
Sappbo, Women less famous for Learning, than the other for
blameless-Living.   Neither have our modern times less flourished with
Femininne Worthies, as  might be  illustrated with several eminent
instances, were there not already of  them so many  Panegyricks
extant.It is said of Dorcas, She ws full of good works and alms which she
did.  Yea even the  Coats and Garments which she made when living,
were shown the Aposle as  arguments of  her industry, and memorials of
her piety.  Hence it was that Saint Jerome   counselled the  holy
Virgin 

Demetrius to eschew idleness, exhoring her when she had finished her
Devotion, she should work with her hands after the commendable example
of  Dorcas; so  that by change of works the day might seem less
tedious, and the assaults  of the Devil less  grievous.  And know,
that this Demetrias was not one whom poverty did  enforce to such
actions of necessity, but one honourably descended, richly endowed,
powerfully friended.Devout mention is made of zealous Anna  who made frequent recourse
to  the Temple.  Of  whom to her succeeding memory the Scripture
recordeth, that after her  tears devoutly shed,  her prayers fincerely
offer'd, her religious vows faithfully performed,  she became fully
satisfied: Thus sighing she sought, seeking she obtain'd and obtaining
she retained a  grateful memory of what she received.Queen Esther, with what servency and zeal did she make Gods cause
the  progress of her  course, desiring nothing more than how to effect
it, which was seconded  with a successful  conclusion?  Because begun,
continued, and ended with, devotion.Neither was Judith  backward in zeal; Faith armed her with
resolution,  and constancy  strengthened her against all opposition:
Prayer was her armour, and holy  desires her sole  attendants.
Nazianzen  reporteth of his Sister Gorgonia, that by reason  of the
incessancy of  her prayers; her knees seemed to cleave to the Earth.
Gregory  relates,  that his Aunt  Throstlla being dead, was found to
have her Elbows as hard 

as horn, which became so by  leaning to a Desk, at which she usually
prayed.  Such as these deserve  your imitation, who  prayed and
obtain'd what they pray'd for, they liv'd and practic'd what  they
fought for;  they dy'd and enjoy'd what they so long signed for.Should you consider what troops of surious and immplacable enemies
lie  in Ambuscado  for you; how many Soul-tempting Syrens are warbling
notes of ruine to  delude you; what  fears within you, what foes
without you, what furies all about you; you  would not let one  minute
pass undedicated to some good employment.The commendable and admired Chassity of Penelope must not be
forgot,  which suffer'd a  daily siege; and her conquest was no less
victorious than those Peers of  Greece, who made  Troy  their triumph.
Estimation was her highest prize.  Suiters she got;  yet amidst these
was not her Ulysses forgot.  Long absence had not estranged her
affection; youthful  consorts could not move in her thoughts the least
distraction; neither  could opportunity  induce her to give way to any
light action.  Well might famous Greece  then esteem her  Penelope  of
more lasting fame than any Pyramid that ever she erected.   Her
unblemished  esteem was of purer stuff than any Ivory Statue that
could be reared.Nor was Rome  less beholden to her Lucretia,  who set her honour at
so  high a price, that  she held death too light to redeem such a
prize.Though force, fright, foes and furies gaz'd upon
her,Those were no mounds but wonders to
her honour.
The presence of a Prince no less amordus than victorious, could not
win her; though with  him, price, prayer and power, did jointly woo
her.  Well deserved such  two modest  Matrons the choice embraces of
two such heroick Champions, as might equal  their constant  loves with
the tender of their dearest lives.There were seven Milesian Virgins, who at such time as the Gauls
raved  and raged every- where, subjecting all to fire and faggot,
deprived themselves of life,  lest hostile force  should deprive them
of their honour.  I have read of two Maidens living  in Leucra, a Town
in Boeotia, who having in their Fathers absence hospitably entertained
two young men, by  whom made drunk with Wine, they were deflowred that
very night; the next  morning  conceiving a mutual sorrow for their
lost Virginity, became resolute  Actors in their own  bloody
Tragedy.We may draw nearer home, and instance this Maiden-constancy in one
of  our own.  It was  not long since there lived within the Walls of
London a notable-spirited  Girl, who  notwithstanding the frequented
places of publick concourse boldly,  discoursed freely,  expressed her
self in all essays forwardly, yet so tender was she in the
preservation of her  honour, that being on a time highly courted by a
spruce and sinical  Gallant, who was as  much taken with the height of
her spirit, wherewith she was endowed, as  he preferred it  before the
beauty of an amorous face, wherewith she was not meanly  enriched.
She  presently apprehending the loosness of his desires, seemingly
condescended; 

so that the  business might be so secretly managed, as no occasion of
suspition may be  probably  grounded.  In order hereunto a Coach is
provided, all things prepared,  the place appointed  where they shall
meet, which for more privacy must be the Country.  Time  and place
they  observed; but before she would admit him to her imbraces, she
told him  (calling him aside)  that she would never consent to any
such thing with any Man, unless she  had first tried his  valour in
the field; and to that purpose she had furnished her self with  a
Sword and  therefore bid him draw; he smilingly refus'd, as thinking
she was in  jest, but feeing by her  home-passes how earnestly she
prosecuted his life, he was constrained to  draw: But this  Virago,
which was metal to the back, disarm'd him in an instant, and had  like
to have made  this a bloody combat, instead of an amorous conflict.
Our amazed Gallant  not knowing  what to think, say, or do, was at
last compell'd to beg his life of her;  in granting which,  she
bestow'd on him plentifully her Kicks, advising him ever after to be
more wary in the  attempting a Maidens Honour.Excellent was the answer of the Lacedemonian Wives, who being
courted  and tempted to  lewd and immodest actions, made this reply,
Surely we should give may to  this your  request, but this you sue
for, lies not in our power to grant; for when  we were Maids, we  were
to be disposed of by our Parents; and now being Wives, by our
Husbands.Lastly, (that I may avoid prolixity) what singular 

mirrors of vidual Continency and Matron- like modesty were, Cornelia,
Vetruria, Livia, and Salvina?  Now what may  you suppose  did these
Pagan Ladies hold to be the absolute end whereto this tender  care of
their  reputation aspired chiefly, and wherein it most cheerfully
rested?  It  was not riches, for  these they contemned, so their
honour might be preserved: Certainly there  was implanted in  them an
innate desire of moral goodness, mixed with an honest ambition,  so to
advance  their esteem during life, that they might become Examples to
others of a  good moral life,  and perpetuate their memories after
death.Your ambition, Gentlewomen, must mount more high, because your
Convensation is most  heavenly.  It is immortality you aspire to, a
lower orb cannot hold you;  nothing else may  confine you.Of
Marriage, and the duty of a Wife to her  Husband.Marriage is an holy and inviolable bond; if the choice on both
sides  be good and well- ordered, there is nothing in the World that
is more beautiful, more  comfortable.  It is a  sweet Society, full of
trust and loyalty.  It is a fellowship, not of hot  distempered love,
but  endeared affection; for these two are as different as the
inflamed fit of  an high Feaver, from  the natural heat of a sound and
healthy body.  Love in the first  acceptation is a distemper,  and no
wonder then that Marriage succeed so ill, 

which have their original from such  disordered amorous desires.  This
boiling affection is seldom worth any  thing.  There are  these two
Essentials in Marriage, Superiority and Inferiority.   Undoubtedly the
Husband  hath power over the Wife, and the Wife ought to be subject to
the Husband  in all things.   Although the Wife be more noble in her
extraction, and more wealthy in  portion, yet being  once Married is
inferior to her Husband in condition.  Man, of  human-kind, wa Gods
first  workmanship; Woman was made after Man, and of the same
substance, to be  subservient  and assisting to him.Though the power of an Husband in this Kingdom extends it self
farther  than it is  commonly exercised, yet something more moderate
than in foreign parts.   Amongst the  Romans the Husband had power to
kill the Wife in four cafes; Adultery,  suborning of  Children,
counterfeiting false Keys, and drunkenness.It is customary among the Indians (but I do not therefore approve
of  it as lawful) that when the Husband dies, the death of the Wife
immediately follows.  This is not only practiced by the publick Laws
of  the Country, but oftentimes with such ardent affection, that the
Wives  (for they allow Polygamy) will contend one amongst the other
who shall  first sleep with  their departed Husband.  Though this
custom I cannot only reject as  unreasonable, but  cruel and horrible;
so I cannot but applaud those Wives (as they are in  duty bound) who
affectionately and patiently content themselves to accompany their
Husbands 

in all conditions, in adversity as well as prosperity.Many Examples hereof we may find at home as well as abroad, though
in  these late  depraved and corrupted times there are not so many as
may justly be  desired.  Lentulus  being exiled by a Decree of the
Roman Senate into Sicily, his loving Wife  Sulpitia sold all,  and
followed him thither.  Ipsicrates follow'd her vanquished Husband and
King  Mithridates throughout all extremities, notwithstanding she was
advantagiously perswaded  to the contrary.Theagena Wife to Agatbocks shew'd admirable constancy in her
Husbands  greatest misery; shewing her self most his own; when he was
relimquisht  and forsaken of his own; closing her resolution with this
noble  conslusion, She had not only betaken her self to be his
companion in prosperity, but in all fortunes which should befal
him.Conform your selves to this mirror, and it will reform in you many
a  dangerous error.  Thus if you live, thus if you love, honour cannot
chuse but accompany you  living; much  comfort attend you loving, and
a virtuous memory embalm you dying.The more particular duties of a Wife to an Husband, are first, to
have  a greater esteem for  him than for any other person; and withal,
to have a setled apprehension.  That he is wife  and prudent.  That
Woman that will entertain mean and low thoughts of her  Husband, will
be easily induced to love another, whom she ought not to affect.  On
this  good esteem  depends a great 

part of the Wives obedience, who will be apt to run into
extravagancies  when she is once possessed of the weakness of her
Husbands understanding:  She is to  give honour, respect, and
reverence to her Husband; so have the wisest  ever done, and  those
which do it not, betray their indiscretion; with reverence she is  to
express her  obedience in all lawful things; and apply and accommodate
her self (as  much as in her lies)  to his humour and disposition.You must be mindful of what you promised your Husband in Marriage;
and  the best  demonstration thereof will be in your carriage; honour
and obey, and love  no mans  company better than his.Be quiet, pleasant, and peaceable with him, and be not angry, when
he  is so; but endeavour to pacifie him with sweet and winning
expressions &  if casually you should provoke him to a passion, be not
long ere you shew  some regret, which may argue how much you are
displeased with your self  for so doing; nay bear his anger patiently,
though without a  cause.Be careful to keep your house in good order, and let all things
with  decency be in readiness when he comes to his repast; let him not
wait for  his meals, lest by so staying his affairs be disorder'd or
impeded.  And  let what-ever you provide be so neatly and cleanly
drest, that his fare,  though ordinary, may engage his appetite, and
disingage his fancy from  Taverns, which many are compell'd to make
use of by reason of the  continual and daily  dissatisfactions they
find at home.
Shew respect and kindness to what Friends he brings home with him, but
more especially  to his Relations for by this means he will find your
love to him by your  respect to them;  and they will be obliged to
love you for your own as well s his sake.Suffer not any to buz in your ears detracting stories of him, and
abhor it in your Servants,  for it is your duty to hide his faults and
infirmities, and not detect  them your self, or suffer  them to be
discovered.  Take them for your greatest enemies who perswade  you
against  your Husband; for without question they have some dangerous
design in it.   Those whom  God hath joined together, let no man put
asunder; Cursed then is that  instrument which  occasions their
separation.Breed up your Children in as much or more obedience to him than
your  self; and keep them in so much awe that they shew no rudeness
before him,  or make any noise to his  disturbance.  Make them shew
him all awful regard, and kee them sweet,  clean, and  decent, that he
may delight himself in them.Let him see your love to him in your care for them; educating and
bringing them up in the  knowledg of Religion, with their Learning.Be careful to manage what money he doth trust youwith, to his and
your  own credit: abuse  not the freedom you have of his purse, by
being too lavish; and pinch not  the Guts of your  Family at home,
that you may pamper your abroad; or throw away that money  in buying 

trifles, which shall evidence your vanity as well as luxury.To govern an House is an excellent and profitable employment; there
Is  nothing more  beautiful than an Houshold well and peaceably
governed; it is a  prosession that is not  difficult; for she that is
not capable of any thing else, may be capable  of this.The principal precepts that belong to the frugal ordering and
disposing Houshold-affairs  may be compremis'd under these heads.First to buy and sell all things at the best times and seasons.Secondly, to take an especial care that the goods in the house be
not  spoiled by negligence  of servants or otherwise.Let me counsel you not only to avoid unnecessary or immoderate
charges, but also with a  little cost make a great shew; but above all
suffer not your expence to  exceed the receipt of  your Husbands
income.  There is a Proverbial saying, That the Masters eye  maketh
the  Horse fat; I am sure the active vigilance of a good and careful
Wife is  the ready way to  enrich a bad Husband.Of
Womens behaviour to their Servants, and what  is to be required of
them in the house, or what thereunto appertains.   If by a thorough inspection and experience you find
you have a  faithful Servant give her to  understand you are not
insensible thereof by your loving carriage, and  kind  acknowledgment
of her fidelity, and frequently find out some occasions to  give her
some  little encouragements to engage her continuance therein; do not
dishearten her in her duty,  by often finding fault where there is
little or none committed, yet be  not remiss in reproving  where she
doth amiss.If you find you have a bad or unfaithful Servant (as now adays
there  are too many, more  than ever) whom you cannot either by fair
means or foul reclaim: Vex not  nor fret at what  you see is
remediless, but first making her thoroughly sensible of her  errors,
give her fair  warning to provide for her self, and convenient for
your own affairs; and  do not (as a great  many much to blame) give
too ill a character of her, which will raise you  little benefit,
although it may lay the basis of her utter ruin; but rather be silent
if  you cannot speak good,  which course I should think was sufficient
to work on the greatest  stupidity for a future  amendment.  Though a
bad Servant detain not the wages, nor any part that  is justly due,
for  the Labourer is worthy of his hire.Be not too passionate with your Servants; 

and look narrowly to them, that they waste or  lavish nothing, lest
thereby you impair your estate and so purchase the  repute of a
careless  and indiscreet Woman.If you find that they affect bravery too much, and presume to wear
what misbecomes their  present condition, rebuke them mildly into a
moderation for their future  advantage, and the  credit of the Family
wherein they are.Let not the business of the House take them clearly off the service
of  God, but let them so  refuse one the other in their duties, that
they may be sometimes hearers  of a good Sermon;  and do not forget to
make enquiry how they improve by what they hear at  Church; and in
your own house.Let every Servant, Men and Women have their daily work appointed
them,  which must be  duly executed, and taken account of, either by
your self or some Superior  servant  constituted by you for this
purpose and let not your constant and painful  care of your  worldly
affairs exclude your greatful concern, the things of Heaven, and
therefore appoint  certain hours, Morning and Evening for publick
prayers for the Family,  and let not any  Servant be absent, unless
some extraordinary occasion hinder.As near as you can, keep one set and certain tithe with good orders
observed for the Table,  in which be free, yet frugal.  Let there be a
competent allowance for the  Servants, that they  may have no just
cause to complain; nor so much supershuity as that they  may entertain
a  sort of loose Gossips in corners, the very bane and spoil of
Servants.
Invert not the course of Nature (as too many do of late) by converting
day into night, and  night into day; but keep good hours for your
repose, that your Servants  may be the better  disposed for the next
day's labour.  Observe due times for washing and  smoothing up the
Linnen quickly, that it may not be thrown up and down and be mildewed
and  spoil'd, and  so be fit for nothing but the wash again; and
forget not to dearn or mend  it every week that  it may not run to
tatters before it be half-worn; and do not suffer any  Servant to be
idle.If you have a Dairy, see it be kept clean and neat.  Let not the
Corn  in the Granary muste  and spoil for want of skreening and
turning.Let your Servant see that your Beasts and Poultry be fatted in
their  due season; and that  your Stable keep no more Horses than your
own.In the Brew-house, that the first Wort be not drunk up by idle
people,  and so the smallness  of your Beer become a disparagement to
your Family.In the Bake-house, that your Dough which should be for the finest
Bread at your Table, be  not half consumed in making Cakes.  That
there be always Bread enough for  the Servants  before hand, for it is
a point of ill Huswifry to eat hot or very new  Bread.In the Kitchin, that there be no Necessaries wanting, nor no waste
or  spoil made, but that  the Meat be salted, and spent in due
time.In the Parlour, let the Fire be made, and the Cloth laid in due
time,  that the Cook may have 

no excuse for the spoiling of his Meat.In the Chambers, that every thing be kep cleanly; the Beds often
turned, the Furniture often beaten in the Sun, and well brushed.Every Saturday take an account of every Servants layings out; and
once  a Month an account of all the expences of the whole House.In the Buttery and Cellars, that the Butler be careful of not
making  every idle fellow drunk  that comes to the House, and so
squander away without credit the Wine,  Ale, and Beer.Now because you will have frequent occasions for Banquets, in the
entertaining of persons of Quality, I think it not unfit for a
Gentlewoman to learn the art of Preferving and  Candying, of which I
shall, according to the Profession I make thereof,  give you an ample
account or instruction in some Chapters following: Frugality will
perswade you to learn  these excellent Arts, for in the constant use
of the product thereof, you  will have much for  Sweetmeats, you will
make much cheaper than you can buy them, and more  commendable.Other things you will meet withal worthy of your observation, of
which  this is no mean  one, most requisite and in no wise
dishonourable; that is, your  understanding how to dress  Meat as well
as eat it that your Servants may be guided by you, and not  you by
them.Gentlewomen, I will appeal to you as persons competent to judg
whether  the right  understanding of these things be not altogether
requisite 

and necessary; and as to your  divettisements, none carries in it more
profit than Cookery.  Now to the  intent I may be  instrumental to the
making up a compleat and accomplished Gentlewoman,  give me leave here
to set you down such At la Mode instructions, as may perfectly inform
you in every  thing that belongs to the commendable art of
cookery.
Terms for Carving all Sorts of Meat at Table. Before we shall treat of the body of Cookery, I think it fit by way
of  Prologue or  Introduction, to acquaint you with those proper terms
in Carving, which  are used abroad  and at home, by the curious
students in the art of Carving; take them  thus as follows.In cutting up all manner of small Birds, it is proper to say, Thigh
them; as thigh that  Woodcock, thigh that Pidgeon; but as to others
say, Mince that Plover,  Wing that Quail,  and Wing that Partridg,
Allay that Pheasant, Untach that Curlew, Unjoint  that Bittern,
Disfigure that Peacock, Display that Crane, Dismember that Hern,
Unbrace  that Mallard,  Frust that Chicken, Spoil that Hen, Saue that
Caon, Lift that Swan, Rear  that Goose, Tire  that Egg.  As to the
flesh of Beasts, place that Coney, Break that Deer,  and Leach that
Brawn.For Fish; Chine that Salmon, String that Lamprey, Splat that Pike,
Sauce that Plaice, and  Sauce that Tench, Splay that Bream, Side that
Haddock, Tusk that Barbel,  Culpon that  Trout, Transon that Eel,
Tranch that Sturgeon, Tame that Crab, Barb that  Lobster.
Quaint Directions for the Carving all manner of  F O W L. If you will List a Swan, slit her right down in the
middle of the  Breast, and so clean  through the back, from the neck
to the rump, and so divide her equally in  the middle  without tearing
the flesh from either part; having laid it in the Dish  with the
slit-sides  downwards, let your sawce be Chaldron a-part in
Sawcers.You must Rear or Break a Goose roasted, by taking off the Legs very
fair; then cut off the  Bellypiece round close to the lower end of the
Breast; lace her down with  your knife clean  through the Breast on
each side, a thumbs breadth from the Breast-bone;  then take off the
wings on each side, with the flesh which you first laced, raising it
up  clear from the bone,  then cut up the merry-thought, and having
cut up anotehr piece of flesh  which you formerly  laced, then turn
your Carcase, and cut it asunder the Back-bone, above  the Loyn-bones;
then take the rump-end of the Back-bone, and lay it at the fore-end of
the merry-thought,  with the skinny side upward; then lay your Pinions
on each side contrary,  set your Legs on  each side contrary behind
them, that the bone-end of the Legs may stand  up cross in the  middle
of the Dish, and the wing-Pinions on the outside of them; put  under
the wing- Pinions on each side the long slices of flesh which you did
cut from the  Breast-bone, and  let the ends meet under the
Leg-bones.
If you would cut up a Turky or Bustard, raise up the leg very fair,
then open the Joint with  the point of your sharp Knife, yet take not
off the Leg; then lace down  the Breast on both  sides, and open the
Breast-pinion, but take it not off; then raise up the  Merry-thought
betwixt the Breast-bone and the top of the Merry-thought, lace down
the  flesh on both  sides of the Breast-bone, and raise up the flesh
called the Brawn, turn  it outwards on both  sides, but break it not
nor cut it off; then cut off the Wing-pinion at  the Joint next the
Body,  and stick on each side the Pinion in the place where you turned
out the  Brawn, but cut off  the sharp end of the Pinion, take the
middle piece and that will just fit  the place.  You may  cut up a
Capon or Pheasant the same way; but be sure you cut not off the Pinion
of your  Capon, but in the place where you put the Pinion of the
Tturky, place  there your divided  Gizard on each side half.In the dismembring of an Hern, you must take off both the Legs, and
lace it down the  Breast; then raise up the flesh, and take it clean
off, with the Pinion;  then stick the head in  the Breast, set the
Pinion on the contrary side of the Carcase, and the  Leg on the other
side,  so that the bones ends may meet cross over the Carcase, and the
other  Wing cross over  upon the top of the Carcase.If you will Unbrace a Mallard, raise up the Pinion and the Leg, but
take them not off; raise  the Merry-thought from the Breast, and lace
it down sloppingly, on each  side the Breast  with your Knife.
Turn the Back downwards, if you unlace a Coney, and cut the
Belly-slaps clean off from  the Kidneys; then put in the point of your
Knife between the Kidneys, and  loosen the flesh  from each side the
bone; then turn up the back of the Rabbat, and cut it  cross between
the  Wings, and lace it down close by the bone on each side; then open
the  flesh from the bone,  against the Kidney, and pull the Leg open
softly with your hand, but  pluck it not off; then  thrust in your
Knife betwixt the Ribs and the Kidney, slit it out, then  lay the Legs
close  together.In the allayin of a Pheasant, and winging a Partridg, you must
raise  their Wings and Legs  as if they were Hens.If you mince your Partridg, sauce him with Wine, powder of Giner
and  Salt, and so set  him on a Chasing-dish of Coals to keep Warm.
Use a Quail after the same  manner.Display a Crane thus: Unfold his Legs, and cut off his Wings by the
Joints; then take up  his Wings and Legs, and sauce them with powder
of Giner, Mustard, Vinegar  and Salt:  Dismember a Hern in the same
manner, and sauce him accordingly; so  likewise unjoint a  Bitten, but
use no sauce but salt.I shall now proceed to give you some Instructions in the art of
Cookery; which I shall rank  in an Alphabetical order
compendiously.
Artichoaks Fried.  Boil your Artichoaks, and sever them from the bottom,
then slice and  quarter them; having  so done, dip them in Butter, and
fry them in Butter.  For the sauce, take  Verjuice, Butter,  and
Sugar, with the juice of an Orange, lay Marrow on them, and having
garnisht them  with Marrow, serve them up. Artichoaks Stewed. Artichoaks being boil'd, take out the core, and take off the
leaves,  cut the Bottoms into  quarters, splitting them in the middle,
then put them into your flat  stewing-pan, with  Manchettoasts
therein, laying the Artichoaks on them, with an indifferent  quantity
of  Marrow, five or six large Maces, half a pound of preferred Plumbs
with  the Sirrup,  Verjuice, and Sugar; let them thus stew two hours,
if you stew them in a  Dish, stir them  not thence, but serve them up
in it, laying on some Barberies preserv'd,  and suchlike, so  sippet
it and serve it up; Instead of preserved Plumbs, you may stew  those
which are  ordinary, and wil do near as well, and are much
cheaper. An Almond-Pudding. Take a pound of Almond-paste, some grated Bisket-bread, Cream,
Rosewater, yolks of  Eggs, beaten Cinnamon, Giner, Nutmeg, some boiled
Currans, Pistaches and  Musk, boil it  in a Napkin, and serve it in a
Dish, with beaten Butter and Sugar scrap'd  thereon. An Almond-Pudding in
Guis. Get a pound of Almonds blanched, beat them very small with
Rose-water,  and a little good 

new  Milk, or Cream, with two or three blades of Mace, and some sliced
Nutmegs; when it  is boiled, take the Spice clean from it, then grate
a penny-loaf, and  seirce it through a  Cullender, put it into the
Cream, and let it stand till it be pretty  cool; then put in the
Almonds, five or six yolks of Eggs, Salt, Sugar, and good store of
Marrow, or Beef-suet,  finely minced, and so fill the Guts.An
Almond-Tart. Strain beaten Almonds with Cream, yolks of Eggs, Sugar, Cinnamon
and  Giner, boil it  thick, and fill your Tart therewith.
Almond-Cream. Take half a pound of Almond-paste, beaten with Rose-water, and
strain  it with a quart of  Cream, put it in a Skillet with a stick of
Cinnamon, and boil it, stir it  continually, and when  it is boiled
thick, put Sugar to it, and serve it up cold.
Apple-Cream. Take a dozen Pippins, or more, pare, slice, or quarter them, put
them  into a Skillet, with  some Claret-wine, and a race of Ginger
sliced thin, a little Lemmon-peel  cut small, and  some Sugar; let all
these stew together till they be soft, then take them  off the fire,
and put  them into a Dish, and when they be cold, take a quart of
boil'' Cream,  with a little Nutmeg,  and put in of the Apple as much
as will thicken it; and so serve it  up.
Apricocks green Baked. When your Apricocks are green, and so tender that you may thrust a
pin  through the stone

scald them, and scrape the outside oft putting them in water as you
peel  them, till your Tart  be ready, then dry them well, and fill
your Tart with them, and lay on  good store of fine  Sugar, close it
up and bake it, ice it, scrape on Sugar, and serve it  up.
Barley-broth. Boil the Barley first in two waters, having first pickt it well,
then  join it with a knuckle of  Veal, and seeth them together; to the
Broth add Raisins, sweet herbs,  large Mace, and the  quantity of a
fine Manchet sliced together, then season it with  salt.B I
S K. There are divers ways to make a Bisk, but the best is this; Take a
Leg  of Beef, and knuckle  of Veal, boil them in two Gallons of fair
water, scum them clean, nd put  to them some  Cloyes andMace, then
boil them from two Gallons to three quarts of broth;  being boiled,
strain it thin, put it into a Pipkin; when it is cold take off the fat
and bottom, and put it into a  clean Pipkin, and keep it warm till the
Bisk be ready; boil the Fowl in  the liquor of the  Marrow-bones of
half a dozen peeping Chickens, and as many peeping  Pidgeons in a
clean  Pipkin.Then have pallats, noses and lips, boil'd tender, blanch'd and cut
into pieces as big as a  sixpence; also some Sheeps-tongues boil'd,
blanch'd, larded, fried, and  stewed in gravy,  with some Chesnuts
blanched; also some Cocks-combs boiled 

and blanched, with some  yolks of hard Eggs.  Stew all the aforesaid
in some roast Mutton, or  Beef-gravy, with  some Pistaches; large
Mace, a good big Onion or two, and Salt.  Then take  Lamb-stones
blanch'dand slic'd also sweet-breads of Veal and sweet-breads of Lamb
slit, some great  Oysters parboil'd, and some Cock-stones: Fry the
aforesaid Materials in  clarified Butter,  some fried Spinnage, or
Alexander-leaves, and keep them warm in an Oven,  with some  fried
Sausages made of minced Bacon, Veal, yolks of Eggs, Nutmets,
sweet-Herbs, salt,  and Pistaches; bake it in an Oven in cauls of
Veal; and being baked and  cold, slice it round,  fry it, and keep it
warm in the Oven, with the aforesaid baked things.   Having prepared
all  these things in readiness, take a great eight pound Dish, and a
fsix-peny  French loaf, chip it  and slice it into large slices, and
cover all the bottom of the Dish,  then keep it well with  your strong
broth, and upon that some Beef-gravy; then dish up the Fowl  on the
Dish, and  round about it the fried Tongues, with the Lips, Pallats,
Pistaches,  Eggs, Noses,  Chesnuts, and Cocks-combs, and run them over
the Fowls with some of the  gravy, and  large Mace.  Then again run it
over with fried Sweet-breads, Sausages,  lamb-stones, Cock- stones,
fried Spinnage, and the Marrow over all; next the carved Lemmons  on
the Meat,  and run it over with the beaten Butter, yolks of Eggs and
gravy beaten up  till it be thick;  lastly, garnish the Dish with
little Pyes, Dolphins of puff-paste,  Chesnuts, boil'd and fried
Oisters, and yolks of hard Eggs.
Gentlewomen, I must crave your pardon, since I know I have tired your
patience in the  description of a Dish, which though it be frequently
fed in Noblemens  houses, and with all  this colar and toruble put
together by some rare whimsical French Cook,   yet I cannot  approve
of it, but must call it a Miscellaneous hodg-podg of studied  vanity;
and I have here  inserted it not for your imitation, but
admiration. Beef
hashed. In the making of a Hash of Beef, take some of the Buttock and mince
it  very small with  some Beef-suet, or lard, and some sweet herbs,
some beaten Cloves and  Mace, Pepper,  Nutmeg, and a whole Onion or
two; stew altogether in a Pipkin, with some  blanched  Chesnuts,
strong broth, and a little Claret; let it stew softly for the  space
of three hours, that  it may be very tender, then blow off the fat,
dish it, and serve it on  sippets, you may  garnish it with
Barberries, Grapes, or Gooseberries.Beef
A-la-mode. Cut some Buttock-beef a quarter of an inch thick, and lard it with
Bacon, having hackt it  before a little with the back of your Knife,
then stew it in a Pipkin  with some gravy,  Claretwine, and strong
Broth.  Cloves, Mace, Pepper, Cinnamon and Salt;  being tender stewed,
serve it on French-bread sippets.Beef
Carbonadoed. Steep your Beef in Claret-wine, Salt, Pepper, 

and Nutmeg, then broil it on the Embers over  a temperate and unsmoaky
fire, in the mean while boil up the liquor  wherein it was steeped;
and serve it for sauce, with beaten Butter.Beef
baked, red-Deer-fashion, in Pies or  Pasties, either Surloine,
Brisket, Buttock or  Fillet, larded or not.  Let your Surloine be boned, and take off the great finew that lies
on  the back, lard the  leanest parts of it with great lard, being
season'' with Nutmeg, Pepper,  four ounces of  each, two ounces of
Ginger, and a pound of Salt, which seasoning you must  put into the
Pye, but first lay a bed of good sweet Butter, and a bay-leaf or two,
half an ounce of whole  Cloves, lay on your Beef, then put on the rest
of the seasoning, and a  few more Cloves,  good store of Butter, and a
Bay-leaf or two, close it up and bake it, it  will require eight hours
soaking; if you will eat it hot, half the seasoning will serve, and
then let your paste  be fine, otherwise coarse. To this quantity of flesh you must have three Gallons of fine
flower  heapt measure.  But the best way to bake red Deer is in coarse
paste,  either Pye, or Pasty; if Rey-meal, it will  keep long,
otherwise you may make it of Meal, as it comes from the Mill,  using
only  boiling-water, without any other stuff.Beef
Collar'd.  In the right making of a Collar of Beef you must take the flank
and  lay it in Pump-water  two or three days; shift it twice a day,
then 

take it out, and dry it very well with clean  Clothes, cut it in three
layers, and take out the bones and most of the  fat; then take three
handfuls of Salt, and good stoore of Sweet Herbs chopped very small,
mingle them, and  stew them betwixt the three layers, and lay them one
upon another; then  take an ounce of  Cloves and Mace, and another of
Nutmegs, and beat them well, and strew it  between the  layers of
Beef, rowl it up close together, then lay some splices about  it, and
with pack- thread tye it up very close and hard, put it in a long
Earthen-pot, which  are made on  purpose for that use, tying up the
top of the pot with cap-paper; set it  into the Oven, let it  stand
eight hours, draw it, and taking it out of the pot, hang it up for
use.
Brawn, how to make a Collar.  Take a fat Brawn of two or three years growth and bone the sides;
cut  off the head close to the ears, and cut five Collars of a side,
bone the  hinder-leg, or else five will not be deep  enough; cut the
Collars an inch deeper on the belly than on the back,  because the
belly will  shrink more in the boiling; make your Collars very even
before you bind  them up, not big  at one end, and small at the other,
but fill them equally, and lay them  a-soaking in fair  water; be sure
that they be watered two days before you bind them up,  shift and
scrape  them twice a day in that time, then bind them up with white
tape; having  your Boiler ready  with the water boiling put in your
Collars of the biggest bulk first, a  quarter

of an hour  before those which are less.  Boil them an hour with a
quick fire,  keeping the Boiler  continually filled up with warm clean
liquor and scum the fat clean off  as it riseth.  After an  hour, let
it boil still, but more leisurely; being fine and tender  boiled, so
that you may thrust  a straw through it, draw your fire, and let your
Brawn remain till the  next morning;  between hot and cold, put your
Brawn into moulds of deep hoops, and bind  them about  with
packthread; when cold take them out and put them into souce made of
boil'd Oatmeal  ground or beaten, and bran boil'd in fair water, which
you must strain  through a Cullender  when it is cold, into that thing
you intend to lay your Brawn; then put  salt thereunto, and  close up
the mouth of the Vessel from the Air.  When you use it, dish it  up
with a sprig of  Rosemary on the top, dipt in the white of an Egg well
beaten to froth,  sprinkled with  flower, or with a straight sprig of
Ew-tree.
Brawn made of a Sucking-Pig, otherways called  Souced Pig.  Chuse not a spotted Pig for handfomeness-sake but one that is
white;  Scald him, and cut  off his head, parting him down the back,
draw and bone him, the sides  being throughly  cleansed from the
blood, and soaked in several clean waters, dry the  sides thereof,
season  them with Nutmeg, Ginger and Salt, rowl them, and put them up
in clean  Clothes; then  take as much water as will cover it in the
boiling-pan two inches over  and above, and add  two quarts of 

White-wine thereunto.  When the liquor boils, put in your Collars with
Salt,  Mace, sliced Ginger, Parsley-roots, and Fennel-roots scraped
and picked;  being half  boil'd, put in a quart of White-wine more,
being quite boil'd, put in  slices of Lemon to it  with the whole
peel.  Having souc'd it two or three days, dish it out on  plates with
Vinegar;  or serve it in Collars with Mustard and Sugar.A
Calves-head roasted.  Take the Head, and cleave it, and remove from thence the Brains,
purge it well from the  blood, then steep the Head in fair water warm
five hours, in that time  shift it twice or thrice;  the last time
cleanse the head; then boil the Brains and with it make a  Pudding
with some  grated Bread, Beef-suet, and some Veal minced small
together with sme  Sage; let the  pudding be seasoned with Cloves,
Mace, Salt, Ginger, Sugar, five yolks of  Eggs and  Saffron; fill the
Head with this Pudding, then close it up, and bind it  fast with
pack-thread,  spit it and bind on the Caul with some of the Pudding
round about it; as  it roasts save the  gravy; but when you use it for
the sauce, blow off the fat, and add  thereunto a little White- wine,
a Nutmeg sliced, the juice of an Orange, Salt, and Sugar, and a  piece
of sweet  Butter; before you take up the head, dredg it with grated
Bread, beaten  Cinnamon, minced  Lemmon-peel with a little
Salt.
Calves-foot Pye, or Neats-foot Pye.  Take two pair of Calves feet, boil them tender and 

blanch them; being cold bone them, and  mince them very small, and
season them with Pepper, Nutmeg, Cinnamon, a  little Ginger  and Salt,
and a pound of Currans, a quarter of a pound of ates sliced, a quarter
of a pound  of fine Sugar, with a little Rose-water, and Verjuice,
stir all together  in a Dish or Tray,  laying a little Butter in the
bottom of the Pye; then lay on half the  meat in the Pye; take then
the Marrow of three Marrow-bones, and lay that on the meat in the Pye,
and the other half  of the meat on the Marrow, and stick some Dates on
the top of the meat,  so close up the  Pye and bake it; being half
baked, liquor it with Butter, White-wine or Verjuice, and ice it  with
Butter, Rosewater and Sugar, then set it in the Oven again till it  be
iced.
Capons Souced.  Take a good young fat Capon, finely pulled, drawn, and truffed,
lay  it in soak two or three hours, with a Knuckle of Veal well
jointed, and  after set them a-boiling in a deep Brass- pan, or large
Pipkin in a gallon of fair water, when it boils, scum it,  and put in
four or five  blades of Mace, two or three races of Ginger sliced,
some Fennel and  parsley roots scraped  and pickt, season all with
Salt.  The Capon being tenderly boiled take it  up, and when  almost
cold put it to your souced broth which you must boil with a quart  of
White-wine to a  Jelly; putting this liquor into a convenient Vessel,
place your Capon  therein, with two or  three sliced Lemmons, cover it
close and serve it at your pleasure,  garnishing your Dish

with slices of Lemmon, Barberries, and som of the Jelly.
Calves-Chaldron-Mince-Pyes.  Let your Chaldrons or Muggets be boiled tender, & being cold mince
them small, with  Beef-suer, or interlarded Bacon, some yolks of hard
Eggs, Veal, Mutton,  and Lamb cut  small; season it with Cloves, Mace,
Nutmeg, Pepper, a little Onion, and  minced Lemon- peel, with salt,
and Juice of an Orange; then lay on some slices of  interlarded Bacon
and  Butter, close it up and bake it; and when you draw it, liquor it
with  White-wine beaten with  Butter.
Capon or Chicken in white-Broth.  First boil the Capon in water and salt, then take three pints of
strong Broth, and a quart of  White wine, and stew it in a Pipkin,
with a quarter of a pound of Dates,  half a pound of  fine Sugar, four
or five blades of large Mace, the Marrow of three  Marrow-bones, an
handful of white Endive; stew them very leisurely; having so done,
strain  the yolks of ten  Eggs with some of the Broth.  Before you
dist up the Capon or Chickens,  put the Eggs into  the Broth, and keep
it stirring that it may not curdle, and let it be but  a little while
on the  fire; the Fowls being dished up, put on the Broth, and garnish
the Dish  with Dates, large  Mace, Endive, preserved barberries.  You
may make a Lere of Almond-paste,  and Grape- verjuice.
Chicken-Pey.  Truss the Chickens, then season them lightly with 

Pepper, Salt and Nutmeg, lay them in  the Pye, and lay on them some
sliced Dates, with the Marrow of two or  three Marrow- bones, some
large Mace, a quarter of a pound of Eringoroots, some Grapes  or
Barberries,  with Butter, slose it up and put it into the Oven; being
half baked,  liquor it with a Cawdle  made of a Pint of White-wine or
Verjuice, the yolks of five or six Eggs,  with Sugar and  Butter;
shake liquor well in it, which you may colour green with the  juice of
Spinage: It is  proper to ice these Pyes, or scrape Sugar on
them.
Clouted Cream.  Take a gallon of new Milk from the Cow, two quarts of Cream, and
twelve spoonfuls of  Rosewater, put these together in a large Milkpan,
and set it upon a fire  of Charcole well  kindled, (be sure the fire
be not too hot) and let it stand a day and a  night; then take it off
and dish it with a slice or scummer, let no Milk be in it, lay it in a
Creamdish, with Sugar  scraped thereon, and so serve it up.
Cabbedg-Cream.  Set over the fire six quarts of new Milk, and when it boils, pour
it  out into half a score of  Earthen-pans or bowls, as fast as you
can without frothing, set them  apart, and when they  are a little
cold, gather the Cream that is on the top with your hand,  rumpling it
together,  and lay it on a flat dish; when you have laid three or four
layers one on  the other, wet a  feather in Rosewater and Musk, and
stroke over it, then searce 

a little grated Nutmeg, and  fine Sugar, then lay three or four lays
more on, as before, thus doing  till you have all the  Cream in the
bowl, and then put all the Milk together and boil it again;  and when
it boils,  do with it as you did before; it will yield thus four or
five times  seething, with which you  must do as before, that it may
lie round and high like a Cabbedg.  You  will do well to let  one of
the first Bowls to stand till last, that the Cream may be thick  and
crumpled, and that  use for the uppermost lay, and so scrape Sugar in
it.  This must be made  overnight for  Dinner, and in the morning for
Supper.Carp
Stewed.  Dress the Carp and take out the Milt, put it in a Dish with the
Carp,  take out the Gall, then  save the blood, and scotch with your
knife the back of the Carp.  If the  Carp be large, take  a quart of
Claret, or White-wine, four or five blades of large Mace, ten  Cloves,
two large  races of Ginger sliced, two sliced Nutmegs, with the tops
of Time,  Marjoram, Savory, and  Parsley chopped very small, four
great Onions whole, three or four  Bay-leaves, and some  Salt; Stew
them all together with the Wine when the liquor boils: Put in  the
Carp, with a  quarter of a pound of sweet Butter; being stew'd enough,
take a large  Dish, and laying the  Carp therein, pour the Sawce
thereon with the Spices; lay on sliced  Lemon, with some of  the peel
cut small, and run it over with beaten Butter; Garnish the Dish  with
Manchet grated  and searced, and carved 

sippets laid round the Dish.  You may for variety, the Carp being
sealed, garnish the body with stewed Oisters, some fried in white
Butter,  some in green,  made by the juice of Spinnage.Carp
Marinated.  Take a Carp, scale it, and scrape off the slime, wipe it clean
with a  dry Cloth, and split it  down the back, stowre it, and fry it
in sweet Salletoyl, or clarified  butter; being fried crisp,  lay it
in a deep Dish, or Earthen-pan, then take some white Claret-wine,
white-wine- Vinegar, and put it into a broad-mouth'd Pipkin, with
Rosemary, Time,  sweet Marjoram,  Parsley, Winter-Savory, Bay-leaves,
Sorrel and Sage, a like quantity of  each, with some  large Mace,
sliced Ginger gross Pepper, sliced Nutmeg, whole Cloves and  Salt,
with as  much Wine and Vinegar as will cover the Fish; boil all these
together a  little while, and then  pour it on the Fish hot, and cover
it close to detain the spirits from  evaporating for an hours  space
and then lay on your Lemon with Orange-peel.  Thus you may marinate
Soles,  Plaice, or any other whether Sea or fresh-water Fish; if you
barrel or  pack it up close, it  will be as good, and keep as long as
Sturgeon.Carp
roasted.  Take a live Carp, draw and wash it, taking away the Gall, Milt or
Spawn, then make a  Pudding with some grated Manchet, some
Almond-paste, Cream, Currans,  grated nutmeg,  raw yolks of Eggs,
Sugar, Carraway-feed candied, 

some Salt and lemon; make a stiff- Pudding, and put it through the
Gills into the belly of the Carp; then  spit it, and when it is
roasted, make Sauce with the Gravy that falls from it, with juice of
Orange, Sugar and  Cinamon; beat up the Sauce thick with the Butter,
and dish it  up.
Deer, Red and Fallow, roasted.  Take a side or half-Haunch, and parboil it, then farce or stuff it
with all mmanner of sweet  Herbs minced with Beef-suet; lay the Cawl
over, and so roast it; when  ready, dish it up  with a
Gallendine-sauce made with strained Bread, Vinegar, Claret-wine,
Cinamon, Ginger  and Sugar, boil up these with a few whole Cloves, and
a sprig of  Rosemary.Deer
Baked.  Take a side of Venison, bone and lard it with great lards as big
as  your little finger, and  season it with two ounces of Pepper, two
ounces of Nutmeg, and four  ounces of Salt, then  make your Pye, and
lay some Butter in the bottom thereof, then lay in  your flesh the
inside  downward, coat it thick with seasoning, adding a few Cloves
and good  store of Butter, so  close it up and bake it, first basting
it with Eggs.
Egg-Mince-Pye.  Boil your Eggs hard, then mince and mix them with Cinamon,
Currans,  Carraway-seed,  Sugar and Dates, minced Lemon-peel,
verjuice, Rosewater, Butter and Salt,  with these fill  your 

Pyes; when baked, liquor them with Butter, White-wine, Sugar and ice
them.
Florentines on Paste, or without Paste.   Take a Leg of Mutton or Veal, shave it into thin slices, and
mingle  it with some sweet  Herbs, as sweet Marjoram, Time, Savory,
Parsley and Rosemary; being  minced very  small, a Clove of Garlick,
some beaten Nutmeg, Pepper, a minced Onion,  some grated  Mancher, and
three or four yolks of raw Eggs, mix all together with a  little Salt,
some thin  slices of interlarded Bacon, lay the Meat round the Dish,
on a sheet of  Paste, or in the Dish  without Paste; being baked,
stick Bay leaves round the Dish.
Flowers of all sorts Pickled.  Put them into a Gally-pot, or Glass, with as much Sugar as they
weigh, fill them up with Wine-Vinegar.  To a pint of Vinegar a pound
of  Sugar, and a pound of Slowers: so keep them for Sallets and boil'd
Meats.
Grapes and Goosberries Pickled.  Pick them and put them in Verjuice, and so barrel them
up.
Geese Boiled.  Take them being powder'd, and fill their bellies with oatmeal,
being  first steeped in warm  Milk, then mingle it with some
Beef-suet, minced Onions and Apples,  season'd with  Cloves, Mace,
some sweet Herbs minced, and Pepper, fasten the neck and  vent, boil
them,  and serve 

them with Brewis, and Colliflowers or Cabbedg, running it over with
beaten  Butter; thus you may dress any sort of Sea-fowl.
Hashes several ways.  First, of raw Beef, mince it very small with Beef-suet or lard,
some  sweet-Herbs, Pepper,  Salt, some Cloves and Mace, Chesnuts or
Almonds blanch'd, put in whole,  some Nutmeg,  and a whole Onion or
two, and stew it in a Pipkin with some strong broth  two hours, put a
little Claret to it, and serve it on Sippers, blowing off the fat, and
garnish it with Lemon or  Barberries.
Otherways.  Cut your Beef, fat and lean, into Gobbets, as big as a Pullets
Egg,  and put them into a pot  or Pipkin with some Carrots cut into
pieces as big as a Walnut, some  whole Onions, some  Parsnips, large
Mace, a saggot of sweet herbs, Salt, Pepper, Cloves, with  as much
water  and wine as will cover them, let them thus stew three
hours.
Hashes of Neats-feet, or any feet, as Calver,  Sheep, Deer, Hogs, Pigs
or Lambs.  Boil them very tender, and being cold, mince them small, then put
Currans to them, beaten Cinamon, hard Eggs minc'd, Capers, sweet Herbs
minced small, Cloves, Mace, Sugar,  White-wine, Butter, sliced Lemon
or Orange, sliced Almonds, grated Bread,  Saffron,  Grapes, or
Barberries, to serve them on fine carved Sippets.
Hashing of any feet.  Mince them small, and stew them with White-wine, 

Butter, Currans, Raisins, Marrow,  Sugar, Prunes, Dates, Cinamon,
Mace, ginger, Pepper, and serve them on  toasts of fried
Manchet.
Hares roasted without and with the Skin.   Take an Hare and slay him, then lard him with small lard, stick
him  with Cloves, and make a Pudding in his belly, with grated Bread,
grated  Nutmeg, Cinamon beaten, Salt, Currans, Eggs, Cream and Sugar;
having made  it stiff, fill the belly of the Hare and so roast it.  If
you will have  your Pudding green, colour it with Spinage; if yellow,
with Saffron.  Let  the  Sauce be made of beaten Cinamon, Nutmeg,
Ginger, Pepper, Prunes, Currans,  a little  grated Bread, Sugar and
Cloves, all boiled up as thick as Watergruel.  If you roast an Hare
with the Skin on, draw out the Bowels, and make a  farsing, or
stuffing of all manner of sweet Herbs minced very small, then roul
them  in some Butter,  and make a ball thereof, put it into the belly,
and prick it up close,  baste it with butter, and  being almost
roasted, stay off the Skin, and stick on some Cloves on the  Body,
breat it  with fine grated Manchet, Flower and Cinamon, froth it up,
and dish it on  Sawce, made of  grated Bread, Claret-wine,
Wine-vinegar, Cinamon, Ginger, and Sugar,  being boiled up to  an
indifferency.
Ipocras.  To make good Ipocras, you must take a gallon of Wine, three ounces
of  Cinamon, two  ounces of sliced Ginger, an ounce of Nutmegs, a
quarter 

of an ounce ofCloves, twenty  corns of Pepper, an handful of
Rosemary-Flowers, three pounds of Sugar,  and two quarts  of
Cream.
Jellies of several colours for all sorts of  Soust Meats, and to be
eaten alone.  Take four pair of Calves-feet, a knuckle of Veal, a good fleshy
Cao\pon, take out the bones and fat, and cast them into fair water,
shift  them threee of four times in a day and night,  then boil them
in three gallongs of sair water till six quarts bbe  wasted, then
strain it into an  Earthen-pan, let it cool, then take off the fat at
top, and pare the  bottom; then dissolve it  again in broth, and
divide it into four equal parts, every part in a  particular Vessel,
put a  little Saffron into one of them, into another Cutcheneel, into
a third  Turnsole, let the last  alone to its own natural whiteness;
let each Vessel have a quart of  White-wine, and the juice  of two
Lemons.  To the white Jelly add one race of Ginger pared and  sliced,
and three  blades of large Mace.  To the red Jelly two Nurmegs, and
the like  quantity of Cinamon and  Ginger.  To the yellow or
Amber-colour the same spices, and the like  quantity; and to the
Turnsole the same with a few Cloves.  Then take eighteen whites of
Eggs,  and beat them  with six pound of double refined Sugar, beaten,
small and stirred  together in a Tray, or  great Bason; with a
rowling-pin divide it equally into four parts, and  distribute one to
each  Vessel, being well mixed with Wine, and a little Musk, or
Ambergriece,  stir it about with  your Jelly.  Then set on your Jelly
again on a fine Charcole 

fire, and let it stew near an  hour, then make it boil up a little, so
take it off; being somewhat cold,  strain it, and so let it  stand for
your use, casting it into what mould you please.Land
or Sea-fowl, how to boil them.  Half roast the Fowls, sticking on them some Cloves as they roast,
save the Gravy, and  when they are half roasted, put them into a
Pipkin with the Gravy, some  Claret-wine, as  much strong broth as
will cover them, Mace, Cloves, Pepper, Ginger, some  fried Onions  and
Salt; stew all well together and serve them on carved
sippets.Land-Fowl, the smaller sort, how to boil, as  Plowers, Quails,
Blackbirds, Rails, Thrushes, Snipes, Wheat-ears, Larks and
Sparrows.  Take them and truss them, or cut off the Heads and Legs, and boil
them, scum your  Pipkin, and put therein large Mace, White-wine,
Currans well pickt and  washt, Dates,  Marrow, Pepper and Salt; being
well stewed, dish them on carved Sippets;  thicken the  broth with
strained Almonds, Rosewater, and Sugar; garnish them with  Lemon,
Barberries  and grated bread.
Marrow-Pudding in a Dish baked, garnished with  Puff paste.  Take the Marrow fo four Marrow-bones, two French breads, half a
pound  of Raisins of the Sun ready boiled and cold, Cinamon a quarter
of an  ounce beaten, two grated Nutmegs, a  quarter of a pound of
Sugar, the like of Date, Sack half a pint,  Rosewater a quarter of a
pint, 

ten Eggs, two grains of Amber-griece.  Now take a deep large dish, and
lay a lay of  sliced French-bread therein, and strew it with Cinamon,
Nutmeg, and  Sugar, mingled  together; also sprinkle the slices of
bread with Sack and Rosewater, and  then some Raisins  of the Sun,
sliced Dates, and good big pieces of Marrow, and thus make  two or
three lays  of the aforesaid ingredients with most Marrow on the top;
then take two  quarts of Cream,  and strain it with half a uarter of
fine Sugar, with about a spoonful of  Salt, and twelve  Eggs, six of
the white taken away, then set the Dish into the Oven,  temperate, and
not too  hot, and bake it very white, then strew some Sugar on so
serve  it.
Mutton hashed the French way.  Take a Shoulder of Mutton, and roast it three quarters and save
the  Gravy; slice the one half and mince the other, and put it into a
Pipkin,  with the Shoulder-blade, put to it some strong broth of
Mutton or  Beef-gravy, large Mace, some Pepper, Salt, a big Onion or
two, a  faggot of sweet Herbs, and a pint of White-wine; stew them all
together  close covered, then  take away the fat, and put some
Oyster-liquor thereunto; add also three  pints of great  Oysters
parboiled in their own liquor; these Materials being well stewed down,
dish up  your meat, pouring your liquor thereon, and uppermost lay
your stewed  Oysters with  sliced Lemon and fine carved
sippets.
Marinated Mullet, Bace, Gurnet, or Rochet.   Take a gallon of White-wine-Vinegar, a quart 

of fair water, a good handful of Bay-leaves,  as much Rosemary, and a
quarter of a pound of beaten Pepper, put these  together, and let them
boil fostly, season it with Salt, then fry your Fish in the Best
Sallet-oyl; this done, put  the Fish in an earthen Vessel or Barrel,
lay the Bay-leaves and Rosemary  between every  layer of the Fish, and
pour the broth upon it; when it is cold, close up  the
Vessel.
Mullets Fried.  Scale, draw, and scotch them, after washing wipe them dry, and
stowre  them, fry them in  Clarified Butter; being fried, put to them
some Claret-wine sliced  Ginger, grated Nutmeg,  and Anchovee, Salt,
and sweet Butter beaten up thick, but first rub the  dish with a Clove
of  Garlick: Chuse the least Mullets to fry.
Mullets or Bace baked.  Scale, garbedg, wash and dry the Bace or Mullet very well, lard it
with Salt-Eel, season it  and make a Pudding for it of grated Bread,
sweet Herbs, and fresh Eel  minced, put also the  yolks of hard Eggs,
Anchovee washt and minced very small, some Nutmeg and  Salt, fill  the
belly here with, or put it into quarters and season them with Nutmeg,
Ginger and  Pepper, lay them in your Pye and make Balls, and lay them
on the pieces  of Mullet, then  put on some Capers, Prawns, or
Cockles, yolks of Eggs minced, Butter,  large Mace, and  Barberries,
close it up; being baked, cut it up and fill it with beaten  Butter,
and garnish it  with sliced Lemon.  This is a very good way for Tench
or  Bream.
Mushrooms Fried.  Blanch them and wash them clean; if they be large,
quarter them, and  boil them with Salt,  Vinegar, and water, sweet
Herbs, large Mace, Cloves, Bay-leaves, and two  or three  Cloves of
Garlick, then take them up, dry them, dip them in butter, and  fry
them in Clrified  butter till they be brown; make your sauce for them
of Claret-wine; the  juice of two or three  Oranges, Salt butter, the
juice of Horse-radish-root beaten and strain'd,  sliced Nutmeg and
Pepper, put these into a Frying-pan, with the yolks of two or three
Eggs,  with some  Mutton-gravy, beat or shake them well together in
the Pan, that they  curdle not, then rub a  dish with Garlick, and lay
the Mushrooms therein garnisht with Oranges  and Lemons.
Mushrooms stewed.  Take them fresh gathered, and cut off the end of the stalk; and as
you peel them, put them  in a dish with White-wine; after they have
layn half an hour, drain them  from the Wine, and  put them between
two Dishes, and set them on a soft fire without any  liquor, and when
they have stewed a while, pour away the liquor that proceeded from
them,  then put to your  Mushrooms a sprig of Time, a whole Onion,
four or five corns of whole  Pepper, two or  three Cloves, a piece of
an Orange, a little Salt, and some sweet-butter,  with some pure gravy
of Mutton; cover them and set them on a gentle fire, so let them stew
softly till they  are enough and very tender; when you dish them, blow
off the fat 

from them, and take out  the Time, the Spice, and Orange, then wring
in the juice of Lemon, and  strew some  Nutmeg thereon.
Neats-Tongues boiled.  Salt a Tongue twelve hours, or boil it in water and salt till it
be  tender, blanch it, serve it on carved Sippers and Brewis, with
boiled  Turnips and Onions, run it over with beaten  bUtter, and
garnish it with Barberries or Grapes.
Neats-tongues Stewed.  Take a Tongue & put it a-stewing between two Dishes, being raw and
fresh, put some  strong broth and White-wine to it, with some whole
Cloves, Mace, and  whole Pepper,  some Capers, Salt, with Roots, as
Carrots or Turnips, and stew them all  together leisurely  the space
of two hours or more; then blanch it, and put some Marrow to  it, give
it a walm  or two, then Serve it on Sippets finely carved, and strew
on some minced  Lemon,  Barberries or Grapes and run it over with
beaten Butter: Garnish your  Dish with Manchets  finely
searced.
Neats-tongue, an excellent way how to dry them.   Take Salt beaten very fine, and salt-Peter, of each a like
quantity,  rub your tongues very  well with the Salts, and cover them
all over with it; and as it wasts,  supply them with more,  then roul
them in Bran, and dry them before a soft fire; before you boil  them,
lay them in  Pump-water one night, and boil them in
Pump-water.
Neats-Tongues roasted.  Take a Neats-tongue tenderly boiled, blanched, and
cold, cut a hole  in the butt-end, and  mince the meat that you take
out, then put some sweet Herbs, finely  minced to it, with a  minced
Pippin or two, the yolks of Eggs sliced, some-minced Beef-suet, beaten
Ginger  and Salt, fill the Tongue and stop the end with a Caul of
Veal, lard it  and roast it, make  your Sawce with Butter, Nutmeg,
Gravy, and juice of Oranges: Garnish the  Dish with  sliced Lemon and
Barberries.
Neats-tongue-Minc'-Pye.  Take a fresh Neats-tongue, boil, blanch, and mince it, then mince
four-pound of Beef-suet by it self, mingle them together and season
them  with an ounce of Cloves and Mace beaten  some Salt, half an
Orange preferred, and a little Lemon-peel, shred with  a quarter of a
pound of Sugar, four pound of Currans, a little Verjuice and Rosewater
and a quarter of a  pint of Sack, stir all together, and fill your
Pyes.A
Norfolk-Fool.  Take a quart of thick sweet Cream, and set it a-boiling in a clear
scoured Skillet, with some large Mace and whole Cinamon; having boiled
a  little while, take the yolks of five or six  Eggs beaten well and
put to it; being off the fire, take out the Cinamon  and Mace; the
Cream being pretty thick, slice a fine Manchet into thin slices as
many  as will cover the  bottom of the Dish, and then pour on the
Cream; trim the Dish with 

carved Sippets; and  stick it with sliced Dates and scrap Sugar all
over it.
Oysters stewed. Take a pottle of large Oysters, parboil them in their own liquor,
then  wash them from the  dregs in warm water, and put them in a
Pepkin, with a good big Onsort or  two, and five or  six blades of
large Mace, a little whole Pepper, a sliced Nutmeg, a  quarter of a
pint of  White-wine, as much Wine-vinegar, a quarter of a pound of
sweet Butter,  with a little Salt,  stew them togetehr on a soft fire
the space of half an hour, then dish  them on Sippets of French-bread,
sliced Lemon on that and Barberries, then sun them over with beaten
Butter,  and garnish the dish with grated Manchret, searced.
Oysters, Fried. Strain the liquor from them, and parboil them in a Kettle, then dry
and roll them in Flower,  or make a batter with Eggs, Flower, a little
Cream and Salt, dip them  therein, and fry them  in Butter.  For the
Sawce, boil the juice of three or four Oranges, some  of their own
liquor,  a sliced Nutmeg and Claret; being boiled a little, put in a
slice of  Butter, beating it up thick;  having warm'd the Dish, rub it
with some Garlick, and lay therein the  Oysters; garnishing  the Dish
with slices of Orange.
Oyster-Pyes.  Parboil your Oysters in their own liquor, 

then take them out and wash them in warm water,  dry them, and season
them with Pepper, Nutmeg, yolks of hard Eggs and  Salt; the pye  being
made, put a few Currans in the bottom and lay on the Oysters with some
sliced Dates  in halfs, some large Mace, sliced Lemon, Barberries and
Butter, close it  up, and bake it,  then liquor it with White-wine,
Sugar, and Butter.
Otherways.  Fake a pottle of Oysters, being parboiled in their own liquor,
bread  and dry them, then  season them with large Mace, whole Pepper,
a little beaten Ginger, salt,  Butter, and  Marrow, then close and
bake it, then make a Lear with White-wine,  Oyster-liquor, and one
Onion; boil these with a pound of Butter, minced Lemon, and a faggot
of  sweet herbs, and  liquor the Pye therewith.
Oysters Pickled.  Take eight quarts of Oysters, and parboil them in their own
liquor,  then take them out and  cleanse them in warm water, then wipe
them dry, then take the liquor,  they were prboiled  in, and clear it
from the grounds into a large Pipkin, or Skillet, put to  it a pottle
of good  White-wine, a quart of Wine-Vinegar, some large Mace, whole
Pepper and a  good quantity  of Salt, set it over the fire and boil it
leisurely, scum it clean, and  being well boiled, put the  liquor into
Barrels, that will hold a quart or more, and when it is cold,  put in
the Oysters,  and close up the head.
Ox-cheeks baked in a Pye.   Being first cleansed from the slime, silth and
blood, cut them in  pieces, take out the bones, and season them with
Pepper, Salt, and  Nutmeg, then put them in a Pye with a few whole
Cloves, a little  seasoning, slices of Butter and Bacon over all; bake
them very tender,  and liquor them with Butter and
Claret-wine.A
Calves-head Pye.  Take a Calves-hed, soak it well, and take out the brains, boil the
head and take out the  bones; being cold, stuff it with sweet Herbs
and hard Eggs chopped small,  minced Bacon,  and a raw Egg or two,
Nutmeg, Pepper, and Salt; and lay in the bottom of  the Pye minced
Veal raw, and Bacon; then lay the Cheeks on it in the Pye, and sliced
Bacon on that, then  Spices, Butter and Grapes, or a Lemon, then close
it u, bake it, and  liquor it with butter  only.
Puff-paste, the best way how to make it.   Take a pottle of Flower, mix it with cold water, half a pound of
Butter, and the whites of  five Eggs, work these together very well
and stiff, then roul it out very  thin, and put  Flower under it and
over it, then take near a pound of butter, and lay  ltin bits all over
it,  then double it in five or six doubles; this being done, roul it
out the  second time, and serve  it as at the first, then roul it out
and cut it into what form you  please, and for what use, you  need not
fear the curle, for it will divide as often as you have doubled,  ten
or twelve times  is enough for any use.
Panado's.  Boil fair water in a Skillet, put to it grated bread
or cakes, good  store of Currans, Mace,  and whole Cinamon; being
almost boil'd, and in different thick, put in  some Sack or
White-wine, Sugar, and some strained yolks of Eggs.  Otherways, with
sliced Bread,  Water, Currans, and Mace; and being well boiled, put to
it some Sugar,  White-wine, and  Butter.
Posset of Sack, Claret, or White-wine, the best  manner.  Take twenty yolks ofEggs, with a little Cream, strain them, and
set  them by; then have a  clean-scoured Skillet, and put into it a
pottle of sweet Cream, and a  good quantity of whole  Cinamon; set it
a-boiling on a soft Charcole-fire, and stir it  continually; the Cream
having a  good taste of the Cinamon, put in the strained Eggs and
Cream into your  Skillet, stir them  together, and give them a walm,
then have in readiness some Sack or other  Wine in a deep  Bason, or
Posset-cup, good store of fine Sugar, and some sliced Nutmet;  the
Sack and  Sugar, being warm, take out the Cinamon, and pour your Eggs
and Cream  very high into  the Bason, that it may spatter in it; then
strew on  Loaf-sugar.
Pompion-Pye.  Take a pound of Pompion, and slice it; an handful of Time, a
little  Rosemary, sweet  Marjoram stripped off the stalks, chop them
small; then take Cinamon,  Nutmeg, Pepper,  and 

a few Cloves, all beaten; also ten Eggs, and beat them all together,
with  as much Sugar  as you shall think sufficient; then fry them like
a Froise; and being  fried, let them stand till  they are cold; Then
fill your Pye after this manner: Take Apples sliced  thin round-wise,
and  lay a layer of the Froise, and another of the Apples, with
Currans  betwixt the layers; be  sure you put in good store of sweet
Butter before you close it.  When the  Pye is baked,  take six yolks
of Eggs, some White-wine or Verjuice, and make a Caudle  thereof, but
not  too thick; cut up the lid and put it in, and stire them well
together  whilst the Eggs and  Pompions are not perceived, and so
serve it up.Pig
roasted with the Hair on.  Take a Pig, and draw out his Entrails, Liver and Lights, draw him
very clean at vent, and  wipe him, cut off his Legs and truss him, and
prick up the Belly close,  Spit it, and lay it to  the fire; have a
care of scorching it; when it is a quarter roasted, the  skin will
rise up in  blisters from the flesh, then with your hands or knife,
pull off the skin  and hair; being  cleanly flay'd out flashes down to
the bones, baste it with Buter or  Cream, then bread it  with grated
white-bread, Currans, Sugar and Salt, all together; and thus  baste it
and dredg  it till the Body be covered an inch thick, then the Pig
being thoroughly  roasted, draw it and  serve it up whole, with Sauce
made of Wine-Vinegar, whole Cloves, whole  Cinamon, and  Sugar boiled
to a Syrrup.
Pidgeons boiled.   Beng trussed, put them into a Pipkin or Skillet,
with some strong  broth, or fair water, boil  and scum them, then put
in some Mace, a saggot of sweet Herbs, white  Endive, Marigold-
flowers and Salt, and being finely boiled, serve them on sippets; and
garnish the Dish with  Mace and white Endive-flowers.Pike
boiled.  Take your Pike and wash it clean, then truss it whole, round, with
the tail in his mouth,  and his back scorehed, or cut it in three
pieces, and divide the  middle-piece into two; then  boil it in Water,
Salt, and Vinegar, put it not in till the liquor boil,  and then make
it boil  apace, and that will crisp your Pike; but afterwards softly.
For the  Sauce, put into a Pipkin  a pint of White-wine, sliced
Ginger, Mace, Dates quartered, a pint of  large Oysters with  their
liquor, a little inegar and Salt; boil them a quarter of an hour, then
mince a few sweet  Herbs and Parsley, stew them till half the liquor
be consumed; the Pike  being boiled, dish  it, and garnish the Dish
with grated White-bread, or Ginger fine beaten,  then beat up the
Sauce with half a pound of Butter, minced Lemon or Orange, and pour it
on  the Pike with  Sippets.Pike
stewed.  Take a Pike, flat it, and lay it in a Dish; when the blood is
clean  washed out, put to it as  much White-wine as will cover it, and
set it a-stewing; when it boils,  put in the Fish, and  scum it, 

and put to it some large Mace, whole Cinamon and some Salt; when
thorouwly  stewed, sich it on Sippets finely carved.Pike
Souc'd.  Draw and wash it clean from the blood and slime, then boil it in
fair  Water and Salt; when  the liquor boils, put it to it, and boil
it leisurely and simpering,  season it favourily of the  Salt, boil it
not too much, nor in more water than will just cover it: If  you
intend to keep it  long, put as much White-wine as Water, of both as
much as will cover the  Fish, some  Wine-vinegar, sliced Ginger, large
Mace, Cloves, and some Salt; when it  boils put in the  Fish, Spices,
and some Lemon-peel, boil it up quick, and not too much,  then take it
up in a  Tray, and boil down the liquor to a Jelly; lay some sliced
Lemon on it,  pour on-the liquor,  and cover it up close; when you
serve it in Jelly, melt some of the  Jelly, and run it over therewith;
garnish your Dish with Barberries and sliced Lemon.Pike
Roasted.  Take a Pike; scour off the slime, and take out the Entrails, lard
the  back with pickled  Herring, (you must have a sharp bodkin to make
the holes to lard it) then  take some large  Oysters and Claret-wine;
season the Oysters with Pepper and Nutmeg, stuff  the Belly with  the
Oysters, and intermix the stuffing with Rosemary, Time, Winter-favory,
sweet  Marjoram, a little Onion and Garlick, sow these in the belly of
the Pike;  then take two  slicks about the breadth 

of a lath, and with packthread tye the Pike to the Spit, tye also
along the side of the Pike which is not defended with the Spit,
Rosemary  and Bays; baste  the Pike with Butter and Claret-wine; when
it is roasted, rip up the  Belly, and take out the  Herbs quite away,
boil up the Gravy with Butter, and dish it  up.
Quaking Pudding.  Slice the Crum of a Peny-manchet, and infuse it three or four
hours  in a pint of scalding hot Cream, covering it close, then break
the bread  with a spoon very small, and put to it eight  Eggs (but
four whites), and beat them together very well, then season it  with
Sugar,  Rosewater and grated Nutmeg; if you think it too stiff,
qualifie that  fault with cold Cream,  and beat them well together,
then wet the bag or napkin, and flower it,  put in the Pudding,  and
ty it hard, boil it half an hour, then dish it and put Butter to it,
Rosewater and Sugar,  and so serve it to the Table.
Quince-Pyes.  Make choice of fair uinces to make your Pye withal, pare them very
thin, and core them,  and lay them within your paste; add thereunto
two races of Ginger sliced,  as much  Cinamon broaken into bits, and
eight or ten whole Cloves; lay these with  the Quinces close  packed,
with as much refined Sugar as the Quinces weigh, close it up; and
having soaked  four or five hours in the Oven, take it out and ice
it. You may otherwise make a Quince-Pye thus: Take a gallon of Flower,
a  pound and half of Butter, 

six Eggs, thirty Quinces, three pounds of Sugar, half an ounce of
Cinamon, the like  quantity of Ginger and Cloves, and some Rosewater,
then make it into a  Pye or Tart; when  it is baked, strew on some
double refined Sugar.An
excellent restorative for a weak back.   Take Clary, Dates, the pith of an Ox, and chop them together, put
some Cream to them,  Eggs, grated Bread, and a little white Sanders,
temper them all well  together, fry them, and  let it be the first
thing you eat in a morning.  You may also take the  leaves of Clary,
and  Nepe, and fry them for Breakfast.A
most incomparable broth or drink for a Sick  person.  Procure a good fleshy Capon, and take the flesh from the bones, or
cho it in pieces very  small, and not wash it, then put it in a
Rose-Still, with slices of  Lemon-peel, Wood-forrel,  with other
restorative herbs, being distilled, give it the sick person to
drink.
Rice-Tart.  Boil your Rice in Milk or Cream; being tender boiled pour it into
a  Dish, and season it with Nutmeg, Ginger, and Cinammon, Pepper,
Salt,  Sugar and the yolks of six Eggs; put it in  the Tart when it is
baked scrape Sugar thereon.
Rice-Cream.  Take a quart of Cream, two handfuls of Rice-flower, 

and a quarter of a pound of Sugar,  mmingle the Flower and Sugar very
well together, and put it in the Cream,  then beat the  yolk of an Egg
with a little Rosewater; put it to the Cream and stir them  all
together, set it  over a quick fire, and keep it continually stirring
till it be as thick  as Pap.
Another excellent and rare Cream.  Take a pound of Almond-paste, fine beaten with Rosewater, mingle
it  with a quart of  Cream, six Eggs, a little Sack, half a pound of
Sugar, and some beaten  Nutmeg, strain  them, and put them in a clean
scoured Skillet, and set it on a soft fire,  stir it continually,  and
being well incorporated, dish it and serve it up with juice of Orange,
Sugar and stick it  full of candied Pistaches.
Several excellent Sauces for several Dishes, and  first for
green-Geese.  Take the juice of Sorrel mixed with scalded Goosberries, beaten
Butter and Sugar, then  serve it on Sippets.  Or fill their bellies
with Goosberries, and so  roast them, then take them  out, and mingle
them with Sugar, Butter, Vinegar, Cinamon, and serve on  sippets. For Land-fowl, take boiled Prunes, and strin them with the blood
of  the Fowl, Cinamon,  Ginger, and Sugar, boil them to an indifferent
thickness, and serve it in  Sawcers, with the  Gravy of the Fowl. For roast Mutton divers sorts of Sawces; 1.  Gravy, Capers,
Samphire,  and Salt, stew them well 

together.   2.  Water, Onion, Claret-wine, sliced Nutmeg and Gravy
boiled.  3.   Whole Onions stewed in Gravy, White-wine, Pepper,
pickled, Capers, Mace,  and three or  four slices of Lemon.  4.  Take
Vinegar, Butter, and Currans, put them  into a Pipkin with  sweet
Herbs finely minced, the yolks of two hard Eggs, some Cinamon, Ginger,
Sugar,  salt, with some of the meat minced very small, and boiled up
with the  aforesaid  ingredients.  5.  Salt, Pepper, juice of Oranges,
and an Achovee.  6.   Preserve the liquor of  the Oysters you stuff
your Mutton with, and add thereto Onions, Claret,  Capers, or
Broombuds, Gravy, Nutmeg, and Salt boiled together.  These for a
taste:  for brevity I shall  omit many more for Mutton, which might be
here inserted. For roast Veal several Sawces.  1.  Gravy Claret, Nutmeg, Vinegar,
Buter, Sugar and  Oranges.  2.  Only Vinegar and Butter.  3.  All
manner of sweet Herbs  chopped small, with  the yolks of three or four
Eggs, and boil them in Vinegar and Butter, a  few bread-crumbs,
Currans, beaten Cinamon, Sugar, and a whole Clove or two, put it under
the Veal with  slices of Orange and Lemon to garnish the Dish. For Red-deer.  1.  The Gravy and sweet Herbs chopped small and
boiled  together.  2.   Whitebread boiled in water pretty thick
without spice, and put to it some  Butter, Vinegar  and Sugar.  3.
The juice of Oranges or Lemons, with the Gravy.  A  Gallendine sawce I
have already described in the roasting of Red-deer. For Rabbets several sawces.  1.  Beaten Butter, with the Liver,
and  Parsley cut very small.  

2.  Sage and Parsley minced, rowl it in a ball of Butter, and stuff
the  belly therewith. For roast Hens divers Sawces.  1.  Take the yolks of three hard
Eggs  minced small, salt,  grated Bread, Gravy, juice of Oranges, with
Lemon-peel shred small.  2.  Gravy and Claret  boiled with a piece of
an Onion, Nutmeg and Salt.  3.  Oyster-liquor, and  Anchovee or  two,
Nutmeg and Gravy, and rub the Dish with a Clove of Galick. Sawces for roast Chicken.  Butter and Vinegar boiled together with
a  little Sugar; then  make thin sops of Bread, then lay the roast
Chicken on them, and serve  them up. For roast Pidgeons, or Stock-doves.  1.  Boil'd Parsley minced,
and  put amongst some  Butter and Vinegar beaten up thick.  2.
Vine-leaves roasted with the  Pidgeons, minced and  put into Claret
with Salt, Butter and Gravy boiled together.  3.  Minced  Onions
boiled in  Claret-wine almost dry, then put to it Nutmeg, Sugar, Gravy
of the Fowl  and a little  Pepper.An
excellent way to roast Salmon.  Take a Rand or Sole, cut it into four pieces, and season it with a
little Nutmeg and Salt, stick a few Cloves, and put it on a small
Spit,  put between it some Bay-leaves, and stick it  with little
sprigs of Rosemary, roast it and baste it with Butter, save  the
Gravy, and add to  it for Sawce some Vinegar, sweet Butter, and some
slices of  Orange.
Salmon Fried.  Take a Jole, Chine, or Rand, and fry it in 

claritified Butter; being stiff and crisp fried; make  Sauce with a
little Claret-wine, sweet Butter, grated Nutmeg, slices of  Orange,
and Oyster- liquor, stew them all together, and pour on the Sauce, and
on that  Parsley, Ellick-sander,  and Sage-leaves fried in
Butter.
Soust Veal, Lamb, or dry joint of Mutton, Kid,  Fawn or
Venison.  Bone a breast of Veal, and soak it well from the blood, then wipe
it  dry, and season the  side of the breast with beaten Nutmeg,
Ginger, some sweet Herbs minced  small, whole  Coriander-seed, minced
Lemon-peel and Salt, and lay some broad slices of  sweet Lard  over
the seasoning, then roul it into a Collar, and bind it up in a white
clean cloth, put it  into boiling liquor, scum it well, and then put
in sliced Ginger, sliced  Nutmeg, Salt,  Fennel, Parsley; being almost
boiled, put in a quart of White-wine, and  when it is quite  boiled,
take it off, and put in slices of Lemon, the peel of two Lemons whole,
and a dozen  Bay-leaves, boil it close covered, that the souse may
look  white.
Taffey-Tart.  First, wet your paste with Butter, and cold water, roul it very
thin,  then lay Apples in lays  and between every lay of Apples strew
some fine Sugar, and some  Lemon-peel-cut very  small; you may also
put some Fennel-seed to them, let them bake an hour  or more, then ice
them with Rosewater, Sugar, and Butter beaten together, and walk them
over with the  same, strew more fine 

Sugar over them, and put them into the Oven again; this done, you  may
serve them hot or cold.x
Venison, how to recover when tainted.   Take a clean cloth and wrap your Venison therein, then bury it in
the  Earth one whole  night, and it will take away the ill scent or
favour.To
make Beef, Ram, or Mutton past for Venison.   Take your Beef, oc., and dip it in Pigs-bloed, or any new blood,
then  take Small-beer and  Vinegar, and parboil it therein, let it
steep all night, then put some  Turnsole to it; when it is  baked, a
good judgment shall not discern it from Red or  Fallow-deer.
Warden-Tarts.  Take twenty good Wardens, pare them and cut them into your Tart,
and  put to them two  pound of refined Sugar, twenty whole Cloves, a
quarter of an Ounce of  Cinamon broke  into little bits, and three
races of Ginger pared and sliced thin; then  close up the Tart and
bake it; it will require five hours baking; then ice it with a quarter
of  a pound of double  refined Sugar, Rosewater and Butter. Thus Ladies and Gentlewomen I have cursorily run through the whole
body of the art of  Cookery; I have only toucht here and there upon
some excellent Receipts,  and now much in  fashion, leaving it to your
industry to supply my deficiency: I shall now  proceed to the rest  of
those accomplishments which best become a Gentlewoman.A
Bill of Fare of Suitable Meat for every Month  in the Year. January.1. Brawn and Mustard.  2. Two boiled Capons in
White broth.  3. A Turky roasted.  4. A Shoulder of Mutton
hasht.  5. Two Geese boiled.  6. Goose roasted.  7. Ribs or
Surloyn of Beef.  8. Minced Pyes 9. A Loyn of Veal.  10. A
Pasty of Venison.  11. A Marrow-pye.  12. Roasted Capons.
13. Lamb.  14. Woodcocks, Partridges, with smaller Birds. Second Course.1. A Soust Pig.  2. A Warden-Pye.  3. Dried
Neats-tongues.  4. A Soust Capon.  5. Pickled Oysters, and
Mushrooms together 6. Surgeon 7. A Goose, or Turky-pye. February. 1. A Chine of roast-Pork.   2. Veal or Beef
roasted.   3. A Lamb-Pye, and Mince-Pyes.   4. A couple of wild
Ducks.   5. A couple of Rabbits.   6. Fried Oysters.   7. A
Skirrot-Pye. Second Course. 1. A whole Lamb roasted.   2. Three Widgeons.
 3. A Pippin-Pye.   4. A Jole of Sturgeon.   5. A cold
Turkey-Pye. March. 1. Neats-tongue and Udder.   2. Boil'd
Chickens.   3. A Dish of stew'd Oysters. 4. A Dish of young Rabbits.   5. A grand
Sallet.  Second Course. 1. A Dish of Soles, or Smelts.   2. Marinate
Flounders.   3. A Lambstone-Pye.   4. An hundred of Asparagus.
 5. A Warden-Pye. April. 1. Green Greese, or Veal and Bacon.   2. Haunch
of Venison roasted.   3. A Lumber-Pye.   4. Rabbits and
Tarts.  Second Course. 1. Cold Lamb.   2. Cold Neats-tongue-Pye.  
3. Salmon Lobsters and Prawns.   4. Asparagus.  May. 1. Boil'd  Chickens.   2. Roast-Veal.  
3. Roasted Capons.   4. Rabbits.  Second Course. 1. Artichoak-Pye hot.   2. Westphalia Bacon,
and Tarts.   3. Sturgeon, Salmon and Lobsters.   4. A Dish of
Sparagrass.   5. A Tansie.  June. 1. A Neats-tongue, or Leg of Mutton and
Colliflowers.   2. A Steak-Pye.   3. A Shoulder of Mutton.  
4. A fore-quarter of Lamb.   5. A Dish of Pease.  Second Course. 1. Sweet-bread- Pye.   2. A Capon.   3. A
Goose-berry Tart.   4. Straw berries and Cream.  Or Strawberries,
White-wine, Rosewater  and Sugar.  July. 1. A Westphalia Ham and Pidgeons.   2. A Loyn
of Veal.   3. A Venison-Pasty. 

 4. Roast Capons.  Second Course. 1. Pease of French beans.   2. A Coding-Tart.
 3. Artechoaks, or a Pye made thereof.   4. Roast Chickens.  August. 1. Calves-head and Bacon.   2. An Olio, or
grandboil'd meat.   3. A Haunch of Venison roasted.   4. A Pig
roasted.  Second Course. 1. Marinate Smelts.   2. A Pidgeon-Pye.  
3. Roast Chickens.   4. A Tart.   5. Some Creams and
Fruits. September. 1. Capon and White-broth.   2. Neats-tongue and
Udder roasted.   3. A powder'd Goose.   4. roast Turky.  Second Course. 1. A Potato-pye.   2. Roast Partridges.  
3. A Dish of Larks.   4. Creams and Fruit.  October. 1. Roast Veal.   2. Two brand-Geese roasted.
 3. A grand Sallet  4. Roasted Capons.  Second Course. 1. Pheasants, Pouts and Pidgeons.   2. A Dish
of Quails, or Sparrows.   3. A Warden-Pye, Tarts or Custards.  Second Course. 1. A Shoulder of Mutton and Oysters.   2. A
loyn of Veal.   3. Geese roasted.   4. A Pasly of Venison.  Second Course. 1. Two Herns, one larded.   2. A Soust Turbut.
 3. Two Pheasants, one larded. 

 4. A Roll of Beef.   5. A Soust Mullet and Base.  
6. Jellies and Tarts.  December. 1. Stew'd broth of Mutton and Marrow-bones.  
2. Lambs-head and White-broth.   3. A Chine of Beef roasted.  
4. Mince-Pyes.   5. A roast Turky stuck with Cloves.   6. Two
Capons, one larded.  Second Course. 1. A young Lamb or Kid.   2. Two brace of
Partridg.   3. Ballonia Sausages, Anchovees, Mushrooms, Caviare,
and pickled  Oysters, in a Dish  together.   4. A Quince-Pye.  
5. Half a dozen of Woodcocks.  Bills of Fare for fasting days or
Lent.  Out of these following Dishes, you may conse what Messes you please
of  several sorts and kinds. Oysters, if in Season.  Pole of Ling,
Greenfish  and Eggs.  Prawns butter'd, or Craw-fish.  Pike boil'd.
Carp stew'd with  Oysters.  Soles fried.  Spitchcock Eels roasted.
Fried Smelts, Salmon,  Lobsters, and Sturgeon.  Butter'd
Eggs. Barley-broth, or Rice-pottage.   Stew'd or fried Oysters.
Boil'd Gurnet.  Haddocks, fresh Cod, or  Whitings, Eel or Carp- Pye.
Soust Turbut.  Potato's baked, or Oyster-Pyes.  Butter'd Crabs.  Fried
Flounders.   Joles of fresh Salmon.  Fried Turbut.   Fried Skirrets.
Soust Conger;  with what else your  own judgments shall think proper
for that Season.
Thus Ladies I have given you an Essay, or small pattern of Cookery,
not desiring to tye  you too strictly to the observation fo those
rules I havve here laid down  for your imitation;  but desire to give
your fance all convenient liberty in correcting what  you may find
amiss  herein.  There are many excellent Books in Cookery already
extant, to  which I shall refer  you, and your own ingenious
experiments in the amending what in this you  find  erroneous, and
that you may know (though A Woman) I am not altogether  ignorant of
that  tongue I have advised you to learn, give me leave to quot an
ancient Poet  very applicable to  this purpose.Si quid novisti recius istis,Candidu imperti, si non, his ntere mecum.Now because I have promised to give an Essay to everything which
concerns the virtuous  and good Education of your Ladies and
Gentlewomen, I shall endeavour  their instruction in  the most
considerable matters of Physick and Chyrurgery; Candying,  Preserving
and  Distilling.An
Introduction to Physick and Chyrurgery.   As it is very commendable quality in Gentlewomen,
whether young or  old, to visit the sick; so it is impossible to do it
with that charity  some stand in need of, without some knowledg in
Physick, and the several  operations of Herbs and Spices: But since it
will take up too much room  to insert here what may make you a
compleat Herbalists I shall refer you  to  such who have largely
treated on that Subject; viz.  Mr. Gerhard, and Mr.  Parkinson, with
many more expert in the knowledg of Vegetables.  Wherefore, since the
knowledg of  sundry sort of Spices is very requisite both for persons
diseased, and in  health, I shall  begin with them.Pepper is a spice of the most common use, hot and dry to the fourth
degree almost.  The  black is that which is generally coveted; but
inconsiderately by the  younger sorts of people,  it being hurtful to
them, though comfortable to old Age.  When you use  it, beat it not
too  small for fear of inflaming the blood, otherwise it cutteth gross
stegm,  dispelleth Crudities,  and helpeth Digestion.The next thing, which is hotter than Pepper, is Ginger; not that it
is  really so, but because  the biting heat of Ginger is more lasting
and durable.  This spice is not  so much used in

dressing meat, as the other; however it is very good for concoction,
and  opens  obstructions, and is very expedient for the expulsion of
Wind.  Green  ginger in the Indies  preserved, is excellent good for a
watry and windy stomack, if taken  tasting; the better sort  is
unfleaky, and so clear you may almost see through it; but there is
little good made in  England.Cloves is an excellent spice for the head, heart, stomack, and the
eyes, which are much  benefited thereby, and Nature strengthned.  In
Swoonings and  Fainting-fits they are very  good, or against the
Plague, or any other infectious disease whatsoever,  or fluxes of the
belly proceeding from cold humors.  They are good against strengthning
the retentive  faculty, and sweetning the breath; but let young
Sanguine and Cholerick  Complexions use  them and all other spices
very sparingly.Nutmeg is hot and dry in the second degree, and is accounted a
spice  of the like nature and  property, with what are before
mention'd.  It is astringent, and good for  Flegmatick  Constitutions,
cold Diseases and Fluxes.  Nutmegs whist green and covered  over with
an  husk or shell like our Walnuts, are preserved in the Indies as
Ginger is,  and are very  comfortable to the Head and Stomack.The covering of the Nutmg is the Mace, which partakes of the same
nature with it,  strengthning the animal parts, and it is good against
fluxes and spitting  of blood.Cinamon is the inward bark or rind of a Tree growing in the Indies,
and is accounted to be hot and 

dry in the third degree.  This spice by reason of its fragrancy and
palatable taste,  may justly challenge the precellency of most other
Spices; it comforteth  the Spirits, and  opens obstructions both in
Men and Women; it helpeth a Woman in her  delivery, furthereth  Urine,
and is good for Concoction.We have a spice growing here at home called Saffron, which need not
give place to any of  the former; it is hot in the second, and dry in
the first degree: It is a  great Cordial, and a  help against
obstructions; it is good against the Jaundies, and unstuffs  the pipes
of the  Lungs: It is good to bring down the Menstruum, and facilitates
the Birth,  if taken  moderately.  And since I have spoken of a thing
of our own growth, let me  add another,  which is Honey, hot and dry
in the second degree, and is better boiled  than raw; it is very
restorative, and therefore good against Comsumptions, and Phlegmatick
Constitutions, but  dangerous to be used much by hot Complexions, for
thereby it is soon  converted into  Choler.  The best is very sweet,
pleasant of smell, of a cleer and  yellowish colour, pretty  stiff and
firm, and yieldeth but little scum on the top when boiled.
Garden-honey is the  best and is clarified by adding a little water to
it, about the fourth  part, and so scum it  whilest any sroth ariseth,
or till the water be evaporated, which is  known by the bubbles rising
from the bottom, if you will have it more pure, put into every ound of
Honey the  white of an Egg, and afterwards scum it again in the
boiling; then use it  against all pectoral  infirmities, as the Cough, 

shortness of breath, the Pleurisie & c.Sugar is the next thing we
treat of which is generally esteemed and used, and more now than ever;
since the Ancients  knew not the right way, of preparing it as it is
done now-a-days.Sugar is neither so hot and dry as Honey; the brownest or coarsest
is  most cleaning, and is  good for abstersions in diseases of the
Breast or Lungs; but as it is  opening and cleansing ,  so the
immoderate use thereof is dangerous; for it will rot the Teeth,  and
taint the Breath,  ingender Jaundies and Consumptions; and Physicians
verily believe, that  the major part of  those who die of the
Consumption in the City (the constantly great  numbers whereof may  be
seen in the Weekly Bills of Mortality) are such who eat Confections,
and such-like  sweet things immoderately.And since I have spoken of Sugar, pray take special notice of this
remark, That the most part of our finest Sugar, and which is most
coveted, is refined and whitened by the means  of the Lee of Lime; how
prejudicial that may be to the body, I will leave  it to the Rational
to  consider.Thus I have given you a small touch of the nature of spices; I
think I  need not acquaint you, that we have here at home in our own
Gardens many  excellent Aromatical Plants, such as  Rosemary,
Lavender, Time, Savory, Sage, Mint, Penny-royal, Basil, sweet Cersuel,
Avens, Angelica, with many more which you may find in Culpepers
English,  Physician,  with their nature, use, and disposition.The great plenty we have of these excellent Plants hath made many
judicious persons  admire, that being supplied at home with such
admirable Simples, we  should hint so  eagerly after Outlandish
Spices, which by difficulty of transportation,  length of way, and
carelesness of the Merchant, are frequently imported rotten, or
worm-eaten; or so long  before they come to our hands, that they have
lost half their virtue.What is to be
observed by a Gentlewoman before  she undertakes the administration of
Physick.  The first inconvenience you must shun (which I have observed in
most  Physical  Practitioners) is the vulgar error of not suffering
the diseased or sick  person to change his  linnen often; and I know
not by what unreasonable prescription they will  not suffer a diseased
female to change her head-clothes, till it too sensibly offend  the
noses of the  Visitants.  Their common objection is, That the sick by
that means may  catch cold; and  next, That their shifting much
weakneth them. To this I answer, That it is only the foolish conjecture and
groundless fear of some old  Dotard of our sex; for a good fire will
easily prevent catching of cold;  and in the next place,  their often
shifting hath apparently proved the means of their  strengthning;
besides it much  disconrageth and dejecteth the sick person to lie in
foul linnen, making  them even loath  themselves in that stinking
condition.  To make this the more easily  understood, take  notice,
that in

humane bodies there is a threefold Concoction the first in the
stomack,  which  is commonly called the Chyle, and hath for its
excrement that which is  convey'd to Colon  or the great Gut; the
second concoction is in the Liver, and hath for its  excrement the
Urine;  the last is called Nutrition, and hath for its excrement
certain  fuliginous vapours, which by  insensible transpiration do
breath out themselves through the pores of  the body, and by the
sweat, which is apparent to the eye.  Now in times of Sickness,
especially in all sorts of  Fevers (which are the usual diseases which
invade English bodies) this  last excrement doth  very much abound,
and doth extreamly and speedily foul the Linnen of the  sick person;
for  which cause reason tells us, that the Linnen should be often
shifted,  especially is, they  sweat much, lest the sweat continuing
about the body, it should be drawn  in by the same  wa it had its
passage out.  For know the Arteries of the body have a  double motion,
one  whereby they expel the Excrements, already mention'd; and the
other  whereby they attract  into the body the ambient Air to refresh
the blood: Now observe,  whatsoever Air is next  unto them, whether
good or bad they draw it in; and therefore if this  foul sweaty Linnen
do  lie about, or upon them, undoubtedly the noisome airs will be
drawn in by  the Arteries, and  so prolong the distemper.  To make
further proof hereof, I have heard it  reported by an  eminent
Physician, that let any person newly come out of the Bath, go  into a
place where a  quantity of dust is rais'd, and he shall instantly 

feel an unversal pricking over his whole  body which is nothing else
but the Atoms of dust drawn in by the  Arteries.  By this then  you
may understand, that the skin ought to be cleansed from all
corruption, and the pores  and passages to be kept open and clean; for
which cause it was that the  Romans of old had  their bodies
frequently rubbed with a coarse cloth.  Thus much I have  added
likewise, to let  Gentlewomen see how much they are abused by their
credulous and ignorant  Nurses. Should I add other observables, with the Symptoms of Diseases, I
should swell this small  Treatise into a greater volume than is
requisite.  I shall therefore  desist and give you my  collection
(with my own observation) of the choicest receipts in Physick  and
Chirugery I  could meet with in my strictest indigation. Choice and Experimental Observations in Physick
and Chyrurgery, such which rarely fail'd any who made trial thereof. A most approved
Receipt for a Quartane Ague.  Procure a white flint-stone (for that will best endure the fire
without breaking) and let it lye  in a quick fire till it be red-hot,
then take some small beer and quench  it therein; when the fit  is
coming, let the diseased drink a good draught thereof, and another in
the midst thereof;  let this be done four several days both  in the
fit, and when the fit is  coming.  This I have  been credibly inform'd
was a receipt a woman had her livelihood from, in  curing several when
all other means proved ineffectual. For a sudden and
violent bleeding at the nose.  Take an Egg-shell and burn it to a coal, then pulverize or beat it
to  a fine powder, and let  the person snuff it up his Nostrils or
take your two thumbs and press  them hard against the  Temples of the
Bleeder, and you would admire how speedily it will divert  the course
of the  blood.  For those that are accustomed thus to bleed, let them
make an  ordinary Posset  taking off the curd, let the juice of
Liverwort beaten be added  thereunto, and so drink  morning and
evening. To stop the
Bleeding of a Wound. 
Take Vervine dried, and reduce it to powder; or take the sole of an
old stocking and burn it, put the ashes of the one, or powder of the
other, to the wound, and it will leave bleeding.An approved
Medicine of London-Midwives to break  and heal Womens sore
breasts. Take red Sage and Oatmeal the finest you can get, and boil them
together in Spring-water,  till you have boil'd them to a consistency,
that is as thick as to make a  Plaister; then add  thereunto a fit
proportion of Honey; having boil'd a little while  together, take it
off the fire,  and whilst it is boiling-hot, make it indifferent thick
with the best  Venice-Turpentine, then  spread it on fine leather, or
linnen-cloth, and laying it on the sore  breast it will first break
it,  and afterwards perfectly heal it. An excellent way
to dry up a Womans breast.   Of Linseed-Oyl and English Honey, take of each a peny-worth, of
white-wax half a peny- worth, and half a quarter of a pound of sweet
butter, boil all these  together, spread a  Plaister thereof, and lay
it on the breast.  Probstumest.An infallible
receipt to increase milk in Womens  breasts. Take Chickens and make broth of them, then add thereunto Fennel
and  Parsnip-roots, then take the newest-made Butter you can procure,
and  butter the roots therewith; having so done let her eat heartily,
and her  expectations therein will be speedily satisfied,  Against a
Stinking-breath. 
To prevent a Stinking-breath, you ought to keep your teeth very clean
by rubbing them  every morning with water and salt, which will also
cure the Scurvy; you  may if you please  try Mr. Turners Dentifrices,
which are every-where much cryed up.  But if  your breath be  tainted,
proceeding from some other cause, take Rosemary-leaves with the
blossoms, if to  be had, and seeth them in White-wine, with a little
Myrrh, and Cinamon,  and you will find  the effect to answer your
desires if you use it often. For a Cancer in a
Womans Breast.  Take Goose-dung and Celidony, stamp them well together, and lay
them  Plaisterwise on  the fore; this shall cleanse the Cancer, kill
the Worm, and heal the  Sore.  For a Cancer in  the Mouth take the
juice of Plantane-Vinegar, and Rosewater, mingle  together of each a
like  quantity, and wash the mouth often with them.For young Children
who by reason of the weakness  of their Limbs can neither stand nor
go.  Take Marjoram and Sage, of each a like quantity, beat them very
well  together, then strain  out the juice, and put it into a double
GlassVial, filling the Glass as  full as it will hold; stop  it then
with paste very close all over, let it into an Oven, and there  let it
stand the time of an  Houshold-loafs baking; taking it out, let it
stand till it be cold; then  breaking the paste round  about it, see
if the juice be grown thick; if so, break the Glass, and  put what was
therein  contain'd, 

into a Gally-pot, and keep it.  When you use it, take the quantity of
two 
spoonfuls at a time and as much Marrow of an Oxleg, melt them
together,  and mingle them  well, and both morning and evening anoint
therewith (as warm as canbe  endur'd) the  tender parts of the Childs
legs, knees and thighs, chafing them well with  your hands; and  in a
short time (Deo volente) the child will be able to go and stand;  this
receipt hath been  ever found successful. An approved
China-broth for a Consumption.   Take two ounces of China-root sliced thin, and let it be steept
twenty-four hours in fair  water, let it stand warm all the time close
covered in an Ear-then  Pipkin; add thereunto a  couple of Chickens or
a Cockerel, cleanly dressed, to these put half an  handful of Maiden-
hair, the like quanity of five-leav'd grass and Harts-tongue; twenty
sliced Dates, three or  four blades of Mace, and the bottom of a
Manchet; let all these stew  together till there be but  a quart of
liquor left, then strain it and take all the flesh and bones,  and
beat them in a  Stone-Morter, then strain out the juice into the
aforesaid broth, then  sweeten it with two  ounces of powder'd
Sugar-Candy.  Take hereof half a pint in the morning  warm, and sleep
after it if you can; you will not do amiss to add two drams of white
and  red Sanders to  steep with your Chicaroot. A most excellent
Jelly for the Consumption.   Take a new-kill'd Cock, scald him, and wash him 

clean, then take a Leg of Veal, and take  away all the fat from it,
and let them lie in water five or six hours,  then seeth them together
in a gallon of Spring-water, scum clean the fat off; thus let it seeth
over a soft fire till the  lliquor be half consumed; then put in a
pottle of White-wine, let it boil  to a quart; add  hereunto the
whites of new-laid Eggs, clarifie it and let it run through  a
Jellybag; then set it  on the fire again, and put into it an ounce of
gross Cinamon, and a pound  of fine Sugar,  and let it run twice or
thrice through a Jelly-bag again; having made a  Jelly hereof, eat
thereof cold.An excellent
Comforter of the Stomach, and  helper of Digestion.  Take two ounces of good old Conserve of Redroses, of chosen
Mithridate two drams,  mingle them together, and when you are going to
bed eat thereof the  quantity of an  Haselnut.  This will expel all
flatulency or windiness off the Stomach,  drives away raw  humours,
and venemous vapours, helpeth Digestion, drieth the Rheum, and
strengthneth  the Sight and Memory.A well-tried
Medicine for the Corns on the Feet  or Toes.  Pare your Corns well, then take a black snail and bruise it, and
put  a drop or two thereof on the place grieved; adding thereto a
little  powder of Samphire; this I can assure with constant  use in a
little time will take away the Corn.An excellent
Diet-drink for the Spring to purge  the Blood, and cleanse it. 
 Of Scurvy-grass take half a peck, Broodlime, Water-cresses, Agrimony,
Maiden-hair,  Liverwort, Borrage, bugloss, Betony, Sage, sweet
Marjoram, Sea-wormwood,  Tops of  green-hops, Fumitory, of each a good
handful; of Ivory, Harts-horn, and  yellow Sanders,  of each one unce;
Red dock-roots two ounces.  Parsley, Fennel,  Asparagus-roots ofeach
an  ounce, Raisins half a pound; boil these very well in a gallon of
Beer,  then stamp and strain  them, and put it into three gallons of
new Beer to work  together. A Remedy for the
Dropsie, whether hot or cold.   Take of the tops of red Mint, of Archangel, or blind nettles, and
red  Sage, of either a small quantity, stamp them together, and strain
the  juice of them into some stale Ale, so much as will serve to drink
morning  and evening; do this for ten days together, and (God willing)
it  will effect the Cure.Another for the
Dropsie, which hath cured many a  Person when they were left and
forsaken by Physicians.  Take green Broom and burn it in some clean place, that you may
save  the Ashes of it; take  ten or twelve spoonful of the same Ashes,
and boil them in a pint of  White-wine, then cool  it, and drain the
Wine from the dregs, and make three draughts of the  Wine, one fasting
in  the Morning, 

the other at thre in the Afternoon, and the other when you go to Bed,
this  seldom fails in his desired effect.For the Web or
Pin in the Eye.  Take the Gall of a Hare and clarified Honey, of each a like
quantity,  mingle them well  together, and anoint the Web with a
feather dipped in the same, and in  three or four days it  will be
gone.To cleanse the
skin of the face, and make it  look beautiful and fair.  Take Rosemary and boil it in White-wine, with the juice of Erigan
put  thereunto, and wash your face therewith Mornings and Evenings.
If your  Face be troubled with heat, take Elder-flowers, Plantane,
white Daisie  roots, and Herb-Robert and put these into running-water,
and wash your  Face therewith at night, and in the Morning.How to cure the
bloody Flux.  There are two forts of Fluxes, the one proceedeth from the evil
quality or temperament of  the Liver, and is called in Latin, Fluxus
Hepaticus; the other cometh  from the great heat 

and  distemperament of Nature, and is called Dysenteria; that is, the
distemper of the Guts; some  cure this distemper with repression and
restrictives, but many more  hundreds are cured by  Aromaticum
Leonardi, with three or four doses of his Syrupus soltivus.   You may
try this  way, which I shall assure you is both safe and good: Take
Frogs and  distil them as you do  Herbs and Flowers, or any thing
else, but put nothing to them but a  little water; take two or  three
spoonfuls of this distillation in any thing you drink, and it will
give you present ease. A Cure for every
sort of Gout.  The Gout whether hot or cold, or of whatever temperature, ariseth
from one and the same  cause, though the effects seem different.  As
for example, Fat-men have  it with much  inflammation, redness and
great pain, in leaner Persons it is discovered  with less
inflammation, though not with lesser pain; it afflicteth Cholerick and
Melancholick men  with nodes and tumors.  The cause of this distemper
cometh from an evil  quality engendred  in the Stomack, Blood and
Liver, the cure thereof must be then the  removal of this ill  quality
from the Stomack, and the purgation of Blood and Liver.   Wherefore
when you  perceive the pain approaching, take two Doses of Pillule
Magistrales  Leonardi in the  morning fasting, one day after another;
or if you will intermit a day,  then take drams of  Quinta essentia
Solutiva Leonardi, in half a Porringer of Veal-broth  sweetned with
Sugar;  take this five hours before you eat any thing; 

then every night after Supper take a little of  the Unguentum
Leonardi, and anoint your grief, and you will find your  speedy
recovery. How to cure the
Green-Sickness.  Laziness and love are the usual causes of these obstructions in
young  women; and that  which increaseth and continueth this
distemper, is their eating Oat-meal,  chalk, nay some  have not
forbore Cinders, Lime, and I know not what trash.  If you wuould
prevent this  slothful disease, be sure you let not those under your
command to want  imployment, that  will hinder the growth of this
distemper, and cure a worser Malady of a  love-sick breast,  for
business will not give them time to think of such idle matters.  But
if this Green- sickness hath already got footing in the body, use this
means to drive it  away: Take a Quart  of Claret-wine, one pound of
Currans, and a handful of your  Rosemary-tops, with half an  ounce of
Mace, seeth these to a pint, and let the Patient drink thereof  three
spoonfuls at a  time, Morning and Evening, and eat some of the Currans
after.An Universal
Medicine of wonderful use both for  Man and Woman.  Take ten ounces of the seeds of Quinces, six ounces of the pills
of  Citrons; Balm and  Nettles, of each fourounces; beat all these
grosly, and infuse them in  six quarts of good  White-wine, thus let
it remain six days, then distil it with six ounces  of Honey, and
fifteen  ounces of Sugar, until you have received a quart of water; 

then put it in a place to cool, then  add thereunto eight grains of
Musk dissolved, with about two ounces of  Rose-water; put  thereunto
two scruples of oyl of Vitriol, and incorporate them well  together;
then keep this  water in a Glass well-closed to keep out the air; and
of this take one  ounce in the Morning,  and fast thereon two hours.
This Experiment is a wonderful preserver of  health, and  continuer of
life to long age, if constantly used, which may appear by  the
excellency of the  Ingredients, for the Quince-feeds are admirable for
the removing of ill  humours which clog  the Stomach, and are very
cordial; the Pomo-citron-pills preserve and  help digestion; the  Balm
purifieth the Blood, healeth the Liver, incourageth Concoction, and
comforteth the  heart; the Nettles provoke Urine, mundifie the Reins,
and correct the  malignity of the  sinews; as for the Wine, you cannot
be ignorant of its Virtues; Musk  purgeth the Blood of  Windiness; the
oyl of Vitriol healeth all the excoriations of the Mouth,  Breast, and
Stomach, and is excellent against malign humours that oppress
it. Against the yellow
Jaudies.  Take an handful of Red-nettle-tops, Plantane, and Saffron, and
boil  them well in a pint of  Ale, then strain it, and drink five or
six days thereof, and you will  find it a present remedy;  let not the
cheapness of its ingredients occasion this composition to be
slighted. Against the
Itch.  Take sweet Butter,unwrought Wax, Vinegar, 

Brimstone, a little Rose-water & red Cloves  whole, boil them together
till they be like Salve, then anoint the flesh  three sundry nights by
the fire therewith, and no more, and you need not question a
cure.An admirable
Remedy Against Kibed Heels a  certain Remedy.  Make a hole in the top of a Turnip, take out some of the pith, &
pour  into the hold oyl of  Roses, then stop the hole close, and roast
it under hot Embers; when it  is soft, apply it  Plaisterwise to the
Kibe as hot as can be endured.What is best to be
administred to one sick of the Medsels.  In this distemper, as in the small Pox, it is only necessary to
defend the Heart, and preserve the Stomach, from putrefaction, and
corruption, if young, to hinder the hands from  murdering a good face;
and then give the diseased a Julip, made of two  ounces of Violets,
four ounces of Rose-water, and four grains fo Oyl of Vitrio), mix them
and let them be  drunk cold: It is as good a receipt as any for this
distemper. To cure the Fits
of the Mother.  Some, nay most use burnt Feathers, or Assasatida, applyed to the
Nose  of the Distempered person, not without success; but your better
way is to  take six or seven drops of the spirit of Castoreum, in the
beginning of  the fit, in two or three spoonfuls of Ale-posset, and
apply a Plaister of Gavanum to the Navel. To take away the
Heat of a Burn or Scald.  
 Roast Eggs as hard as a Stone, then take out the yolks of them, then
fry the yolks of these  Eggs in a Frying-pan till they turn to an Oyl;
then strain it, and anoint  the Burn or Scald  therewith, then lay on
a Bladder anointed with Sallet-oyl, and this will  speedily afswage
the  pain, and heal the Scale or Burn. For a Scald
head.  Take a Candle, and let it drop upon it as Hot as you can, in so
doing  it will scale off; then  take the Stale of a Cow, and the
surring of Chamberpots, boil these  together and wash the  place, and
it will speedily cure it. A very good
receipt for one hurt with  Gun-powder.  Take twelve heads of Housleek, one hanful of Groundfel, one pint
of  Goose-dung as much Chicken-dung of the newest that can be gotten;
stamp  the Herbs very small, then put the  dung into a Mortar, temper
them together with a pottle of Bores-grease,  stir them together  half
an hour, then strain it through a Canvasbag and so preserve it for
your use; it will keep  two years, and be not the worse.How to cure old
Sores on the Legs, which have  been of so long standing that the Bones
have appeared. Take a quantity of sweet Cream, and as much Brimstone beaten into
fine  powder as will  make it thick like Paste; then take so much
sweet Butter as will work it  into the form of an  Oynment, and here
with anoint the place grieved twice a day, and in a  short time the
cure  will be effected.   Probatum est. An excellent way
to dissolve the Stone.  Take a peck of Green-bean-cods without dew or rain, and two good
handfuls of Saxifrage, lay the same into a Still, one row of
Saxifrage,  and another of the Green-bean-cods; and so distil in this
manner a quart  of Water; and then distil another quantity of Water
from the  Bean-cods alone, and use to drink of these two Waters.  If
the Patient be  most troubled  with the heat of the Reins, then let
him most frequently drink of the  distilled Bean-water,  and upon
coming down of the sharp gravel of stone, let him drink the
other.A way not only to
prevent but to cure the  Toothach, or to make an aking-Tooth fall out
of it self. Every Month, twice or theice therein, wash 

your Mouth with White-wine, in which Spurge  hath been boil'd, and you
shall never be troubled with the Tooth-ach.  If  your Tooth be hollow,
& paineth you much, take this Herb called Spurge and squeeze it,  and
mingle  Wheat-flower with the Milk which issueth thence; with this
make a Paste  and fill the cavity  of your Tooth therewith, leaving it
there a while, changing it every two  hours, and the  Tooth will drop
out.How to order a
Woman with Child, before, in, and  after her Delivery. To preserve the Infant, and prevent Abortion, take Coriander-seed
prepared two drams, of  the roots of Bistort, the shaving of Ivory, &
red Coral, of each a dram,  of white Amber and  Crystal, of each a
Scruple; Alkermes half a Scruple, Sugar dissolv'd in  four Ounces of
Rose-water; make tables each of them weighing a dram.  Let the Woman
with  Child take  one of them every other day morning and evening;
between whiles let her   sup a new-laid- Egg, thickened a little with
Magisterium of Pearl, or red Coral.  But if  her Breasts after  their
filling should begin to lessen or fall, it is a sign of future
Abortion; to prevent which  let her take root of Bistort and
Corianders, of each two drams; of  unripened Galls, and red  Sander,
and Hippocestidos, of each one dram; Gum-Laudanum and Mastick of  each
half an  ounce; choice Frankincense and Edelium of each two drams; of
Coral,  Amber, one dram of  each powder those which are to be
powdered, and with 

Oyl of Turpenitine and Wax, make  two or three Cere-cloths, apply them
sometimes to her Loines and Sides,  and sometimes  under the Navel.
She must avoid all violent and sudden motions, both of  the Mind and
Body, as Coughs, Sneezing, Frights, also Spices and Wine.  Thus much
before Delivery.In Labour, if you will facilitate the Birth, and give speedy ease,
take three or four drops of  the distilled Oyl of Nurmegs in a
spoonful of White-wine or take white  Dictamn-root,  stones of Dates,
and Borax, of each two Scruples; Cinamon, Cassia-Lignea,  Amber, fine
Pearl, of each one Scruple, Saffron half a Scruple, make a small
powder  of these, and  divide them into two equal parts, and let her
take the one part in a  draught of Lilly-water, or  Ale-posset made
with Rhenish-wine and the other part let her take in like  manner six
hours  after if need require.  If she be subject to swooning or
fainting before  or after Labour, give  her a spoonful of this
excellent Cordial following.An excellent
Cordial for Women troubled with  Swooning-fits in Travel. Take Borage-water, Rose-water, Strawberry-water, and Rhenish wine,
of  each two  Ounces; Species of Diamargaricum srigidum, one Scruple;
make a warm  insusion for the  space of an hour, then strain it, and
add thereunto Manus Christi, made  with Pearl, four  Ounces; Oriental
Bezoar Unicorns-horn, and Ambergreece, of each six  Grains; of these
make a Cordial-Julip.Great pains frequently follow Women newly brought 

to Bed; for which, there is nothing  better than this plain receipt;
viz, Drink a good draught of Beer boil'd  with a spoonful of
Camomile-flowers; and in greater pains let her drink six Ounces of the
Oyl of sweet  Almonds fresh drawn.If the Woman delivered have no mind to give suck, and that she will
have her Milk speedily dried up, a quick and safe remedy is, new
Spuges  wet in Vinegar, where a handufl of  Cummin-seed boiled is
bruised, tyed close to the Breasts, anointing them  with Unguentum
Populeum.To procure store of Milk, use Posset-drink boiled with Fennel, with
the seeds thereof, and  Anniseeds.  These remedies are known to be
safe and effectual.Thus much for Physick and Chyrurgery; having given you only some of
the choicest  Receipts I could procure; if you desire a larger
knowledg herein, you  would do well to  acquaint your self with the
Composition of Mans Body, and the Diseases  incident to every  part;
which you may gather from several Books of Anatomy, either that of
Dr. Read, or Dr.  Riolaius, I think as good as any extant.If you would know the nature of Plants, Gerhard and Parkinson write
incomparably on that Subject; but if they are too bulky, and so may
seem  tedious you may make choice of lesser  Herbals, as Adams in
Eden; or a small Manual, written by Mr. Lovel.  
If you would have a Salve for every sore, at the Proverb expresseth,
and a receipt for every Distemper, consult the general practice of
Physick, Riverius his practice of Physick  translated by
Mr. Culpepper; with many more of the like Subject.The next Qualifications which accomplish a Gentlewoman, are,
Candying,  Conserving,  Preserving, and Distilling. And first of
Candying, Conserving and  Preserving. 
The next Qualifications which accomplish a Gentlewoman, are, Candying,
Conserving,  These are Curiosities which are not only laudable, but
requisite and  necessary in young  Ladies and Gentlewomen: To
represent them at large, would require more  art and time than  I have
either the ability or leisure to perform; however I shall give you  a
Specimen hereof  or an Essay of my own Experiments; and first, How to preserve
Barberries. Select the largest and fairest bunches, picking off the withered or
shrunk Barberries, and  wash them clean, drying them in a clean Cloth.
After this, take a  quantity of Barberries,  and boil them in
Claret-wine till they be soft; then strain them well  through a
Strainer,  wringing the juice hard through it; boil this strained
liquor with Sugar,  till it be thick, and  very sweet; let it then
stand till it be cold, then put your branches of  Barberries into
Gally- pots, and fill them up with this liquor; by this means you will
have both  the Syrrup of  Barberries, and their Preserves. Pears
preserved. Take Pears that are found, and newly gathered from the Tree,
indifferent ripe, then lay in  the bottom of an Earthen-pot some dried
Vine-leeaves, and os make a lay  of Pears and  leaves till you have
filled the pot, laying between each lay some sliced  Ginger, then pour
in

as much old Wine as the pot will hold, laying some heavy thing ont he
Pears that they may  not swim. Green Pippins
Preserved. Take half a score of Green Pippens, (from the Tree if you can) pare
them, and boil them in  a pottle of water, till they are lie a Pulpe;
strain them from the Cores,  then take two pound  of Sugar, and mingle
it with the liquor or pulp so strained, then set it  on the fire, and
as  soon as it boileth, put in your Pippins you intend to preserve, so
let  them boil leisurely; till  they be enough; when they are
preserved, they will be green; in like sort  you may preserve Quinces,
Plumbs, Peaches and Apricocks, if you take them green. Black-Cherries
Preserved. Take them fresh, or as they come from the Tree, and cut off the
stalk;  take one pound of  Sugar for double the weight of Cherries,
seeth and clarifie them, and  when they are half  boil'd put in your
other Cherries, and let them seeth softly together,  until the Sugar
may be  drawn between the fingers like small threads; when the broth
is almost  cold, put the  Cherries in the pots with the stalks
upward. Mulberries
Preserved. Take Mulberries, and add to them their weight of Sugar; having wet
your Sugar with some  juice of Mulberries, then stir your Sugar
together, 

and put in your Mulberries and boil  them till they are enough, then
take them off and boil the Syrrup a  while, then put in the
Mulberries, and let them stand till they be cold. Oranges and Lemons
Preserved. Take the fairest you can get, lay them in water three days and
three  nights, to take away  their bitterness; then boil them in fair
water till they be tender; make  as much Syrrup as will  make them
swim about the pan; let them not boil long, for then the skins  will
be tough; then  let them lye all night in the Syrrup, that they may
soak themselves  therein; in the morning  boil the Syrrup to a
convenient thickness, then with it and the Oranges  and lemons, fill
your Gally-pots, and keep them all the year; in this manner you may
preserve Citrons. Goosberries
Preserved. Let your Goosberries be gather'd with their stalks on, cut off
their  heads and stone them,  then put them in Scalding-water, and let
them stand therein covered a  little while; then take  their weight of
Sugar finely beaten, and lay first a layer of Sugar, then  one of
Goosberries  in your Preserving pan or Skillet till all be in, putting
in for every  pound of Goosberries a  spoonful of fair water, set them
on the Embers till the Sugar be melted,  then boil them up  as fast as
you can, till lthe Syrrup be thick enough; when cold, put them  up.
In this manner  you may preserve Raspices and Mulberries. Preserved Roses,
or any other Flowers.  
Take one pound of Roses, three pound of Sugar, one pint and a little
more of Rose-water;  make your Syrrup first, and let it stand till it
be cold; then take your  Rose-leaves, having  first clipt fof all the
white, put them in the cold Syrrup and cover  them; let your fire be
very  soft that they may only simper two or three hours; then whilst
they are  hot, put them out  into pots or glasses for your
use. Cherries
Preserved. Take Cherries fully ripe, and newly gather'd, put them to the
bottom  of your Preserving- pan, let the Cherries and Sugar be of
equal weight, then throw some Sugar  on the Cherries,  and set them
over a quick fire; and as they boil, throw on the rest of  the Sugar
till the  Syrrup be thick enough; then take them out and put them into
a Gally-pot  whilst they are  warm; it will not be amiss to add two or
three spoonfuls of Rose-water to  them. Apricocks
Preserved. Let the weight of your Sugar equal the weight of your Apricocks,
what  quantity soever you mind to use; pare and stone your Apricocks,
and lay  them in the Sugar in your Preserving- pan all night, and in
the morning set them on the Embers till the Sugar  be all melted, and
then let them stand and scald an hour; then take them off the fire and
let them stand in that  Syrrup two days, and then boil them softly
till they be tender and well  colour'd; and 

after that, when they are cold, put them up in glasses or pots, which
you  please: Green Walnuts
Preserv'd. Take Walnuts and boil them till the water taste bitter, then take
them  off and put them in  cold water, and peel off the rind, and put
to them as much Sugar as they  weigh, and a little  more water than
will wet the Sugar, set them on a fire and when they boil  up, take
them  off, and let them stand two days, then boil them again once
more. Eringo-roots
Preserv'd. Take Eringo-roots fair, and not knotty, one pound, and wash them
clean, then set them on  the fire, and boil them very tender, peel off
their outer-most skin, but  break them not as  you pare them; then let
them lye a while in cold water; after this you  must take to every
pound of roots three quarters of a pound of clarified Sugar and boil
it  almost to the height  of a Syrrup, and, then put in your roots,
but look that they boil but  gently together, and stir  them as little
as may be, for fear of breaking; when they are cold, put  them up and
keep  them.
Ennula-Campana-roots Preserved. Wash them, and scrape them very clean, and cut them thin to the
pith,  the length of your  little finger; and as you cut them, put
them in water, and let them lye  there thirty days,  shifting them
twice every day, to take away the bitterness; then weigh  them, and to
every  pound of Roots 

add twelve Ounces of Sugar, clarified first, boiling the Roots very
tender,  then put them into this Sugar, and let them boil upon a
gentle fire until  they be enough;  having stood a good while off the
fire, put them up between hot and  cold. Conserve of
Roses. Take red-Rose-buds, clip all the white, either bruised or withered
from them; then add to every pound of Roses, three pound of Sugar,
stamp  the Roses very small, putting to them  a little juice of Lemons
or Rose-water as they become dry; when you think  your Roses  small
enough, then put your Sugar to them, so beat them together till  they
be well mingled,  then put it up in Gally-pots or Glasses.  In this
manner is made the  Conserve of Flowers of  Violets, which doth cool
and open in a burning Fever or Ague, being  dissolved in Almond- milk,
and so taken; and excellent good for any inflammation in  Children.Thus you may also make the Conserve of Cowslips, which strengthens
the  brain, and is a  Preservative against Madness; it helps the
Memory, asswageth the pain of  the head, and  helpeth most infirmities
thereof.  in like manner you may also make  Conserve of  Marigolds,
which taken fasting in the morning is very good against  Melancholy;
cureth the  trembling of the heart, and very good against any
Pestilential  distemper.Thus make Conserve of Sage and Scabious, the one is good against
melancholy, drieth and comforteth the Stomack, cureth an old Cough,
and 

openeth the stopping of the Liver: the  other, that is Scabious,
cleanseth the Breast and Lungs, takes away old  Coughs, and
imposthumes of the Breast and inward parts.How to Candy all
Sorts of Flowers as they grow  with their stalks on. Take the Flowers, and cut the stalks somewhat short; then take one
pound of the whitest  and hardest Sugar you can get, put to it either
spoonfuls of Rose-water,  and boil it till it  will rowl between your
finger and your thumb; then take it from the fire,  and cool it with a
stick, and as it waxeth cold, dip in all your Flowers, and taking them
out again suddenly,  lay them one by one on the bottom of a Sieve,
then turn a joined Stool  with the feet  upward; set the sieve on the
feet thereof, then cover it with a fair  linnen-cloth, and set a
Chafing-dish of coals in the midst of the stool underneath the sieve,
and  the heat thereof  will will dry your Candy speedily, which will
look very pleasantly, and  keep the whole  year. Candyed
Eringo-roots. Take of your Eringo-roots ready to be preserved, and weigh them,
and  to every pound of  Roots you must take of the purest Sugar you
can get two pound, and  clarifie it with the  whites of Eggs exceeding
well, that it may be as clear as Crystal; it  being clarified, you
must boil it to the height of Manus Christi, and then dip in your
Roots  two or three at once  till they are all Candyed; put them in a
Stove, and so keep them all the  year. The best and most
approved way to dry Plumbs.  
Take Plumbs when they are fully grown, with the stalks on them;
however let them be  green split them on the one side and put them in
hot water (but not too  hot,) and so let them  stand three or four
hours; then to a pound of them take three quarters of  a pound of them
take three quarters of a pound of Sugar beaten very fine, and eight
spoonfuls of water to  every pound; set them on hot embers till the
Sugar be melted; and after  that, boil them till  they be very tender,
letting them stand in that Syrrup three days to  plump them; then take
them out, and wash the Syrrup from them in warm water, and wipe them
dry  in a fine  Linnen-cloth, then set them on plates, and let them
dry in a Stove; dry  them not in an Oven,  for then they will be
tough.Proper colours for fruitage. Saffron is the best Yellow, Sap-green the best Green, Indian-lake
the  best Red; all your  Colours must be temper'd with Gum-water made
of Rose-water. Quince
Marmelade. Take of the fairest Quinces, wash them very clean, grate them very
small, and wring out as  much juice as you can; then take other
Quinces and cut them into six  pieces, put them into a  pot, let them
be evapoured with hot water, until they be throughly  mellow; then
take half a  pot-full of the former juice, and pour it upon the
former, stew'd and cut  to pieces; break it  well together, and put
the rest of the juice amongst it, then 

wring it through a clean thin  cloth; seeth no more of this juice at
once than will fill a box  therewith, and put white Sugar  to it, as
much as you please. How to make Syrrup
of Violets. Boil fair water, and scum it, and to every quince so scum'd and
boil'd, take six ounces of  the blew of Violets, only shift them as
before nine times, and the last  time take nine ounces  of Violets;
let them stand between times of shifting twelve hours, keeing  the
liquor still on  hot embers, that it may be but milk-warm; after the
first shifting, you  must stamp and strain  your last nine ounces of
Violets, and put in only the juice of them, then  take to every pint
of  this liquor thus prepared, one pound of Sugar finely beaten, boil
it, and  keep it stirring till  all the Sugar be melted, which you
must do, if you can, before it boil,  afterwards boil it up  with a
quick fire. Syrup of
Roses. Take  Damask Roses, and clip of the white of them, for every pint
of  water take six ounces  of them, boil your water first, and scum
it, then let them stand twelve  hours, wringing out  the Toses, and
putting in new eight times, then wringing out the last,  put in the
juice of  four ounces of Roses only, and so make it up as
before. Syrrup of
Coltsfoot. Take the leaves of Coltsfoot, and wash them very clean, then wipe
them  with a clean cloth  leaf by leaf, then dry them well with a
cloth, then beat 

them in a Mortar, and put them in a  Stainet and wring all the juice
you can out of them, and put it into  Glasses, and let it stand  in
them to settle all night, the next day pour out the clearest of the
Juice from the Grounds  into a clean Bason, and take for every pint
thereof a pound of Sugar  finely beaten; boil the  Juice of Coltsfoot
softly on a Charcoal fire, and when you have well  scum'd it put in
the  Sugar according to its proportion, and so let them boil together,
keeping  it with due  scumming, until it will stand on a stiff purl,
dropping it on a plate;  then take it from the fire,  and pour it
through a Jelly-bag into a fair Bason, putting first a branch  or two
of Rosemary  into the Bag's bottom, then keep it stirring with a spoon
till it be  luke-warm; otherwise it  will have a Cream upon it; so
letting it stand all night, put it in what  Vessels you think fit to
keep it in, for your future use and service.Let these forms suffice to furnish you with the knowledg of making
any  other Syrrups; you need no better a pattern than this, for the
making of  a many others, as is the Syrrup of  Wormwood, take the like
quantity of Sugar, with the Juice of the said  Wormwood, the  Sugar
being first clarified, and so make it up according to art; in the like
manner you may  make Syrrup of Betony, Borage, Bugloss. Cardis,
Cammomel, Succory,  Endive,  Strawberries, Fumitory, Groundear,
Purslain, Sage, Scabious, Scordium,  Housleek, with  many more.  But
enough of this; and therefore I shall next treat of
Distillation. Of
DISTILLATION. 
Ladies, before you come to the knowledg of distilling Waters, you
ought in the first place  to be furnished with good Stills, which
Stills must either be of Tyne, or  sweet Earth,  wherein you may
distil all manner of Waters, either for the health of  your own Family
or  others.Now by the way observe, you may easily make your waters look of
what  colour you plese, if you will first distil your Water in a
Stillatory,  and then put it in a great Glass of strength, and fill it
as full of  those Flowers whose Colours you desire, then stop it and
set it in the  Stillatory, and let it distil, and you shall have their
perfect  colour.Of precious and excellent Waters there are thousands, wherefore I
shall only set down here  some of the choicest and most
valuable. Dr. Stevens his
famous Water. Take a gallon of Gascoin-wine, of Ginger, callingal,
Cinamon-Grains,  Cloves, Mace,  Nutmegs, Anniseeds, Carraway-seed,
Coriander-seed, Fennel-seed, and  Sugar, of every  one a dram; then
take of Sack and Ale a quart of each, of Camomile, Sage,  Mint, Red-
roses, Time, Pellitory of the Wall, wild-Marjoram, wild-Time,
Lavender,  Penneroyal,  Fennel-roots, Parsley-roots, and
Set-wall-roots, of each half a handful;  then beat the Spice  small,
and bruise the Herbs, and put them all together into the Wine, and  so
let it stand 

sixteen hours, stirring it now and then, then distil it in a Limbeck
with  a soft fire, the first  pint of the Water by it self, for it is
the best.The principal use of this water is against all cold Diseases, it
preserveth Youth, comforteth  the Stomack, cureth the Stone of what
nature soever using but two  spoonfuls in seven  days: It preserved
Dr. Stevens ten years Bed-rid, that he lived to ninety  eight
years. Aqua
Mirabilis. Take three pints of White-wine, of Aquavitae, and Juice of
Saladine,  of each a pint; one  dram of Cardamer, and one dram of
Melilot-flowers, Cubebs a dram, of  Gallingale,  Nutmegs, Cloves, Mace
and Ginger, of each a dram; mingle all these  together over night, the
next morning set them a Stilling in a Glass-Limbeck.  This admirable
Water dissolveth  the swelling of the Lungs, and restoreth them when
perished; it sufereth  not the Blood to  putrifie; neither need he or
she to breath a Vein, that useth this Water  often; it cureth the
Heart-burn, and purgeth Melacholy and Flegm it expelleth Urine; it
preserveth a Colour in  the Face; and is an utter enemy to the Palsey;
take three spoonfuls of it  at a time, morning  and evening twice a
week. A most approved
Water for the Eyes. Take a new-laid Egg and roast it hard, then cut the shell in the
midst, and take out the yolk and put some white Copporice where the
yolk  was, then bind the Egg together again, and  let 

it lye till it begin to be a Water, then take the white forth from
both  sides of the Egg, and  put the same into a Glass of fair
running-water, and so let it stand a  while; then strain it  through a
fair Linnen-cloth, and keep it close stopped in a Glass, and therewith
wash your  Eyes morning and evening.An admirable Water
against the Stone in the  Kidneys. Take of the middle rind of the Root of Ash bruised two pound;
Juniper-berries bruised,  three ponnd; Venice-turpentine of the best,
two pound and an half; put  these into twelve  pints of Spring-water
in a Glass-vessel well closed, and there let them  purifie in
Hors-dung  three Months then distil them in Ashes, and there will come
forth an Oyl,  and a Water;  separate the one from the other; ten or
twelve drops being taken of this  Oyl every morning  in four or six
spoonfuls of the said Water, dissolves the Stone and  Gravel in the
Kidneys  most wonderfully. An excellent Water
for the Worms. Take of Worm-seeds bruised, eight ounces; the shaving of
Harts-horn,  two ounces; of  Peach-flowers dri'd, an ounce; of Aloes
bruised, half an ounce; pour on  these the Waters  of Tansie, Rue,
Peach-flowers, and of Worm-wood of each a pint and half;  let them be
digested in a Glass-Vessel three days, then distil them; cohobate this
Water three times.   This Water may be given from half an ounce to
three ounces, according to  the age and  strength of the person.
A small quantity for young Children will work the desired effect; it
infallibly kills Stomack-worms, May-worms, or any other inwardly
infesting the Body.An excellent
artificial Wine like Claret, but  much better, and by many degrees
brisker. Take two gallons of your best Sider, (some esteem Worcester-shire
Red-streak the best)  and mingle it with six gallons of Water, put
thereunto eight pound of the  best Malaga  Raisins bruised in a
Morter; let them stand close covered in a warm  place, for the space
of  a fortnight, stirring them every two days well together; then
press out  the Raisins, and put  the liquor into the same Vessel
again; to which add a quart of the juice  of Raspberries, and  a pint
of the juice of black Cherries; cover this liquor with bread,  spread
thick with  Mustard, the Mustard-side being downward, and so let it
work by the  fire-side three or  four days; then turn it up, and let
it stand a week, and then bottle it  up, and it will taste as  quick
as the briskest liquor whatever, and is a very pleasant drink, and
much wholsomer  than French-Wine. An Ointment for
any Wound or Sore. Take two pound of Sheeps-suet, or rather Deers suet, a pint of
Candy-Oyl, a quarter of a  pound of the newest and best Bees-wax,
melting them all together, and  stirring them well;  and put to them
one ounce of the Oyl of Spike, and half an ounce of the  Goldsmiths
Boras;  then heat them again, and stir them all together; put it up in
a  Gally-pot, and keep it close  stopped, till 

you have cause to use it.  This is an approved Ointment for any Wound
or 
Sore, new or old. A Searcloth for
all Aches. Take Rosin one pound, Perrosin a quarter of a pound, as much
Mastick,  Deers Suite the  like, Turpintine two ounces, Cloves bruised
one ounce, Mace bruised two  ounces, Saffron  two drachms, boil all
these together in oyl of Camomile, and preserve it  for your use.
This  hath done many good when nothing else would.Now, that I may not seem wholly to apply my discourse and study for
the benefit of young Court Ladies and City Madams, I shall descend
into  the Country, and find out something worth the observation of a
Rural  Gentlewoman.What things belong
to a Country Gentlewoman: Of  Daries, and making Butter and
Cheese. Gentlewomen, that you may be delighted with your own experience, as
well as satisfied in  the labours of your servants, I shall give you
an account of what must be  pre-observed in  the keeping of a
Dayry.Let your Kine be of the best choice and breed that possibly can be
procured; and the larger  the Cow is the better she is, whereof
Lincolnshire and Cheshire afford  great plenty.   The  reason why 

I advise you to chuse large Cattel, is, that when they grow old, and
will  yeild  but little milk, you may then feed and fatten them for
the Shambles.  The  common and most  known signs of a Cow that gives
good store of Milk, are, a wreathed,  Horn, a thin neck,  and a large
hairy Dewlap, a full Udder, and the Teats long and thick.The best Black Kine are said to come from Cheshire, ancashire,
Derbyshire, Yorkshire; the best red Cows (whose Milk is so much
esteemed  above all other of that kind for its  extraordinary
nourishing quality), come from Gloucester-Shire,  Somersetshire; the
Pied- kine come commonly from Lincolnshire, and are little inferior to
the  rest.This you see England affords variety enough of extraordinary good
Cows  for the good  Housewife to make choice of as she pleaseth; but
withal let her be  careful that the Bull be of  as good a breed as the
Kine themselves, otherwise the encrease will  degenerate, and your
Dairy in time run to ruin.If at any time you buy any Kine to encrease your dairy, you must be
careful they come not  from a Soil that is more fruitful than your
own; but rather not so  fertile, or being not so  good pasture, for
then they will the better prosper and thrive, with you;  otherwise it
is ten  to one they will pine away, and fall into many Distempers:
Cows are said  to give most Milk  when they have newly Calved.  If a
Cow gives a gallon at a time  constantly, she may pass  for a very
good Milch-Cow; there are some Cows which give a gallon and  half, but
very  few who give two at a time.
You cannot design a better time for your Cow to calve in than at the
latter end of February,  or in the Months of March or April, for then
the Grass is coming on, or  springing up in its  perfect goodness.The hours or times most approved and commonly used for Milking, are
in  the Apring and  Summer between five or six in the morning, and six
in the evening.  Some 
veryunprofitably with the pretence of reason, milk their Cows in the
Summer-season,  betwixt the hours of twelve and one; but I would not
have it to be a  president for any to  follow.  There is an old
Proverb very pertinent to what is here related;  That two good meals
are better than three bad ones: It is the worst point of Huswifry that
can be to leave the Cow  half milked; for besides the loss of Milk, it
is the ready way to make  the Cow dry and so  become unprofitable to
the Dairy.Now the profits arising from Milk are chiefly three; viz Cream,
Butter, and Cheese; the  Cream is the very heart and strength of the
Milk, which must be skimmed  very cleanly:  Cleanly, I say, for
Cleanliness is such an ornament to a good Huswife,  that if he want
any  part thereof, she loseth both that and all other good names
whatsoever.   Cream is not to be  kept above two days in Summer, and
not above four in the Winter, if you  wil be alwayes  provided with
the best and sweetest Butter: But before we speak of that,  I shall
here insert  some excellent Receipts for made-Cream, & Milk made
better by art. How to make your
ordinary clouted-Cream.  Take a quantity of Milk from the Cow, and put 

it into a broad Earthen-pan, and set it over a  slow fire, letting it
stand there from morning to night, suffering it not  to boil by any
means;  then take it off the fire, and set it in some place all night
to cool, in  the morning dish off  your Cream, for it will be very
thick. To make fresh
Cheese in Cream. Take a pottle of new Milk as it cometh from the Cow, and half a
pound  of blanched  Almonds beaten very small, and make a thick
Almond-milk, with a pint of  Cream strained;  and a little before you
go to Dinner make it blood-warm, season it with a  little Sugar, Rose-
water, and searsed Ginger, and put to it a little Runner, and when it
is  scummed bread it  up, and whey it, and put it into a Mould, and
press it with your hand and  when it is well  wheyed put it into a
Dish with Cream. Cream of
Codins. After you have scalded your Codlins and peel'd off the skins, and
scraped the pulps from  the cores, with a little Sugar and Rose-water,
strain them, and lay. The  pulp of your  Codlins in a Dish, with as
much raw Cream as you please about them; there  are several  other
ways propounded, but this is most satisfactory to the Palar. To make a
Junket. Take Ews or Goats-milk; if you have neither of these, then take
Cows-milk, and put it over the fire to warm, then put in a little
Runnet  to it; then pour it out into a Dish, and let it cool,

then strew on Cinamon and Sugar, then take some, Cream and lay upoh it
scraping Sugar  thereon, serve it up.Here not by the way, that you cannot keep Cream above three days in
Summer, and six  days in Winter without prejudice.I need not tell you how to make Butter, since there are very few in
the Country that can be  ignorant thereof; wherefore I shall only say,
that the best time to pot  your Butter is in the  Month of May, for
then the air is most temperate, and the Butter will  take Salt best;
however, it may be done at any time betwixt May and September.  In
preserving thus your  Butter, you may not only supply your House
therewith, but to your profit  furnish others.There is another profit which ariseth from the Dairy, and that is
Cheese; of which there are  three kinds, Morning-Milk-cheese,
Nettle-Cheese and sloaten-Milk-Cheese:  The first is the  fattest and
best that is made in this Kingdom; the Nettle Cheese is so  called,
because when  the Cheese is new-made, Nettles are put upon it; which
Nettles are to be  renewed ounce in  two days: The floaten-Milk-Cheese
is the worst of all Cheeses, & indeed  so coarse, that as  I like not
to feed thereof so I love not to write of it.  What is further  to be
spoken of a  Dairy, I shall refer it to my advice to that Maid who
desires to be a  Dairy-Maid in a great  House.I have hitherto, Ladies, endeavoured the accomplishment of
Gentlewomen  well extracted;  but as you cannot do all things your
selves, so you must have Attendants  & Servants about  you, 

such whose good Qualifications may not only render them fit for your
employments,  but in the performance thereof they may credit the House
wherein they  live, and profit their  own selves, to such therefore I
direct my following advice.And first to all
Gentlewomen, who though well born are notwithstanding by indigency
necessitated to serve some person of Quality. In the first  place, I would not have you look upon your condition
as  to what it hath been  but what it is; learn what ever you can, and
slight no opportunity which  may advance your  knowledg to the height
of your birth, for want of which some by reason of  their Parents
negligence, think they have enough to maintain their Children in a
good  equipage, &  therefore slight those arts which may not only be
ornamental, but  beneficial to their  Children hereafter, vainly
imagining that poverty will never approach  their Gates; by which
cross mistake their Daughters are often exposed to great hardships,
many  times contenting  themselves to serve as Chamber-maids because
they have not the  Accomplishmentsof a  Waiting-woman, or an
House-keeper; and so whereas their own natural and  acquired parts
might raise in every ones opinion a great esteem of their worth and
merit, and incline  Ladies to covet their company, sit at Table, and
have a command in the  House, respect  from the rest of the Servants;
wear good Clothes and have a considerable  fallary; instead  thereof,
the meanness of their qualifications render them only fit  companions
for Grooms  and Footboys.Wherefore in the first place I shall advise all parents (be their
Estates never so good, and  their Revenues large) to endeavour the
gentile education of their  Daughters, encouragging  them to learn
whatever opportunity offers, worthy a good estimation.  For  riches
hath  wings, and will quickly fly away; or Death comes and removes the
Parents,  leaving the  Children to the tuition of merciless and
unconscionable Executors or  other in trusted, who  only study how to
rob the Orphants of their due, and afterwards thrust  them into the
world,  giving them neither their own money, not half the education
they  deserved; now if there be  a treasury laid up within by
education, by which they may live (without  an Estate their  Parents
shall leave them) in some honest and creditable imployment, their
condition will be  so establisht, that nothing almost but death or
sickness can make an  alteration therein, and  may boldly defie and
scorn the various vicissitudes of common  misfortunes.  For this
reason I would have you to lose no time, but improve all you may in
learning whatever  may befit a Woman.If your Father hath had large Revenues, and could talk loudly of
his  Birth, and so may  think this servile life beneath you, yet thank
God you can do something  for an honest  livelihood, and be never the
less submissive; for if you are a Servant,  you must do what  becomes
a Servant; if your extraction be mean, and have attained to
serviceable preserment,  give God the glory, and be more careful to
please.If you desire to be a Waiting-Gentlewoman, it will be expected that
you can Dress well;

Preserve well; and Write well a legible hand, good language, and good
English; have some  skill in Arithmetick; Carve well, and let your
behaviour be modest &  courteous to all  persons accord-to their
degree; humble and submissive to your Lord and  Ldy, or Master  and
Mistriss; nat in your Habit; loving to Servants; sober in your
Countenance and  Discourse; not using any wanton gesture, which may
give Gentlemen  occasion to suspect  your levity, and so court you to
Debauchery, and lose a reputation  irrecoverable.If you owuld be an House-keeper, it will be required that your
behaviour be grave and  foli'd, which will inculcate in their beliefs
that you are able to govern  a Family.  And as I  told you before, you
must Preserve well; so you must have a competent  knowledg in
Distilling, making Cates, all manner of spoon-meats, and the like.  Be
careful in looking  after the Servants, that every one perform their
duty in their several  places, that they keep  good hours in up-rising
and lying down; and that no Goods be either  spoil'd, or imbezel'd.That all Strangers be nobly and civilly used in their Chambers; and
that your Master or  Lady be not dishonoured through neglect or
miscarriage of Servants.To be first up, and last in bed, to prevent junketing.To make Salves and Ointments, to dress the wounds of the poor about
you, with other  things of your own composition, with which you may
compassionate the sick  and indigent:  for commonly 

all good and charitable Ladies do make, this part of their
House-keepers  business.To all Maidens,
who desire to be Chamber-Maids  to persons of Quality. It will be required of you, that you Dress well that you may be
able  to supply the place of  the waiting-woman, should the chance to
fall sick, or be absent from your  Lady; you must  wash fine Linnen
well and starch Tiffanies, Lawns Points, and Laces, mend  them neatly;
and wash white Sarcenets, with such like things.You must make your Ladies bed; lay up, and lay out her
Night-clothes;  see that her  Chamber be kept clean, and nothing
wanting which she desires or requires  to be done.  Be  modest in your
deportment, ready at her call, always diligent, answering  not again
when  reprov'd, but with pacifying words; loving & courteous to your
fellow-servants not gigling  or idling out your time, nor wantoning in
the society of men; you will  find the benefit  thereof; for an honest
and sober man will sooner make that woman his Wife  whom he seeth
continually imployed about her business, than one who makes it her
business to trifle away  her own and others time; neither will a
virtuous and understanding  Mistress long entertain  such a servant
whom she finds of such a temper.Be not subject to change, For a rouling stone gathers no moss; and
as  you will gain but  little money, so if you ramble up and down you
will lose your credit.
It may be a fellow-servant may court you; but before you entertain the
motion, consider  how you must live; by inconsiderately marrying you
may have one joyful  meeting, and  ever after a sorrowful living, and
have time to repent of your rash  matching,Instructions for
all Nursery-Maids in Noble  Families. You ought to be naturally inclined to love young Children or else
you  will soon discover  your unfitness to manage that charge; you
must be neat and cleanly about  them, and careful  to keep good hours
for them: Get their Break-fasts and Suppers in good  and convenient
time; let them not sit too long, but walk them often up and down
especially those who  cannot go well of themselves; take heed they get
no falls by your  carelessness for such  means many (the case first
being unperceivable) have afterwards grown  irrecoverably lame  or
crooked; wherefore if any such thing should happen, conceal it not,
though you may  justly incur a great deal of blame therefore.I knew a Gentlewoman absolutely spoil'd by such a concealment; her
Nurse by negligence  let her fall (being very young) from a Table, and
by the fall her  thigh-bone was dislocated,  the Nurse fearing the
indignation and displeasure of the Childs Parents,  who where rich and
potent, concealed it a long time, under the pretence of some other
indisposition;  endeavouring in the mean time the reducing of the bone
to its proper  place; but by reason of  an interposition of a Jelly
between

 the dislocations, it could not be done, and then when it  was too
late, the Parents were acquainted with the said condition of  their
beloved Child;  and hereupon all means imaginable used for its
recovery, but all in vain,  although they had  been at some hundreds
of pounds charge for the cure.She is now as lovely a young Gentlewoman as a ravisht eye can feast
upon; but it would  break the heart of that body the eye belongs unto
to see her go; her  back-side-walking  would force a man from her to
the Indies, and yet her face would attract  him to her twice as
far.But to my purpose; be not churlish or dogged to them, but merry and
pleasant, and contrive and invent pretty pastimes, agreeable to their
ages, keep their linnen and other things  always mended, and suffer
them not to run too fast to decay.  Do not shew  a partiality in  your
love to any of them, for that dejects the rest: Be careful to hear
them read if it be  imposed upon you, and be not too hasty with them;
have a special care how  you behave  your self before them, neither
speaking nor acting misbecomingly, left  your bad example  prove the
subject of their imitation.Instructions for
all Chamber-maids to  Gentle-women in City and Country. From you it will be required that you wash and starch very well
both  Tiffanies, Lawns,  Points and Laces, and that you can mend what
is amiss in them.That you work Needle-work well, and all sorts 

of Plain-work, or any other work with the Needle which is used in such
Houses.That you wash black and white Sarsnets; that you dress well, and
diligently perform what  you are commanded by your Mistress; be neat
in your Habit, modest in your  Carriage,  silent when she is angry,
willing to please, quick and neat-handed about  what you have to
do.You must know how to make all manner of Spoon-meats, to raise
Paste,  to dress Meat  well, (though not often required thereunto)
both of Fish and Flesh; to  make Sauces,  garnish Dishes, make all
sorts of Pickles, to see that every thing be  served in well and
handsomely to the Table, in due time, and to wait with a graceful
decorum  at the Table if  need should require.Keep your Mistresses Chamber clean, and lay up every thing in its
due  place; you ought to  be skillful in buying any thing in the
Market, if you be intrusted  therewith; these things will  be expected
from you in those Houses where there is no Head-cook.  If  there be no
Butler,  you must see all things decent and fitting in the Parlour and
Dining  room.In a word, you must divest your Mistress from all the care you can,
giving to her a just and true account of what moneys you lay out,
shewing  your self thrifty in all your  disbursements; be careful in
overlooking inferiour servants, that they  waste nothing which belongs
to your Master and mistress.If you are thus qualified, and be of an humble and good
disposition,  your merit will  deserve a good Salary, and a great deal
of love and respect.  

If you have not these accomplishments, endeavour their procuration by
sparring so me money from superfluous expence, and over gaudy clothes
for  to see a Maid finely trickt up, having a fine show without, and
not one  good qualification within, is like a jointed Bartholomem-Baby
bought for  no other use than to be look'd upon.Instructions for
Nursery-Maids to Gentlewomen,  both in London, or elsewhere.  Let me advise you, first to consider the charge you take in hand,
and  not to desire   many do, because it is an easier kind of
life, void of labour and  pains-taking, thinking a Children are easily
pleas'd with any thing: I can assure you the  contrary; for it is a
troublesome employment, and the charge is of greatest weight than such
vainly imagine. You ought in the first place to be of a gentle and good
disposition,  sober in your Carriage,  neat in your Apparel; not
sluggest nor heavy-headed, but watchful and  careful in the night-
season, for fear any of the Children should be ill; and keep due hours
for their up-rising  and going to bed. Take special care that they eat nothing which may over-charge
their  Stomacks.  If you  observe their Faces at any time paler than
ordinary,or complain of pain  in their Stomach,  conclude it is the
Worms that troubles them, and therefore give them  remedies suitable
to  the distemper, do this often whether you see those Symtoms or no,
the  neglect of which  hath been the destruction 

of many hopeful Children.Keep them (whatever you do) sweet  and clean,
and moderately warm; teach them some good forms of prayer, and  to
read as  they are capable; refrain them from drinking too much Wine,
strong  Liquors, and eating  over-much Fruit. Be loving and chearful with them, not thumping or beating them as
many do, contrary to  the knowledg and pleasure of their Parents: That
Mother is very unwise  that will give  liberty to Servant to strike
her Children; and that Servant is over-fawcy  and ill natur'd who
dares do it without her Mistresses privity and consent. This is your duty; and unless you can and will do this, never
undertake this charge.Instructions for
such who desire to be absolute  Cookmaids in good and great
houses.  It is a commonthing now-adays for Cookmaids to ask great Wages,
although they are  conscious to themselves of their inability of
performing almost any  thing; which as it is  unconscionable so to do,
so in the end it will prove disgraceful to them:  I shall therefore
tell  you what in reason may be required from you, and what justly you
ought to  perform. Your skill will chiefly consist in dressing all sorts of Meat,
both  Fish, flesh and Fowl, all  manner of Baked-meats, all kind of
Sawces, and which are most proper for  every sort of  Dish, and be
curious in garnishing your Dishes, and making all manner of  Pickles,
of all  which I have treated of before, as you will find it in the
Chapter

 of my Instructions for  young Ladies and Gentlewomen in the Art of
Cookery, wherein you may be  supplyed with  the Customary and a lamode
ways of dressing all sorts of Meat. And as you must know how to dress Meat well, so you must know how
to  save what is  left of that you have dressed, of which you may make
both handsome and  toothsome  Dishes again, to the saving of your
Masters purse, and the credit of his  Table. Be as saving as you can, and cleanly about every thing; see also
that  your Kitchen be kept  clean, and all thigns scoured in due time;
your Larders also and  Cupboards, that there be no  bits or meat or
bread lye about them to spoil and stink. That your Meat taint not for want of good Salting. That you keep good hours for your Meals else you put an house
quite  out of order; do not  cover to have the Kitchin-stuff for your
vails, but rather ask the more  wages, for that may  make you an ill
Haswife of your Masters-goods, and teach you to be a  thief, for you
will  be apt to put that which goes into the tried suet into your
pot. Lay not all your Wages on your back, but lay up something against
sickness, and an  hundred other Casualties; assure your self, it is
more commendable for  one of your  profession to go decent and clean,
than gaudily fine. Take this in part of that good counsel I could give you, had I
time;  which if you follow, the greatest benefit will be your own at
last. Instructions for
under-Cook-Maids. 
It behoves you to be very diligent and willing to do what you are bid
to do; and though  your employment be greasie and smutty, yet if you
please you may keep  your self from  being nasty, therefore let it be
your care to keep your self clean.   Observe every thing n  Cookery
that is done by your Superiour, treasure it up in your memory;  and
when you  meet with a convenient opportunity, put that in practice
which you have  obsewed, this  course will advance you from a drudg
tobe a Cook another day. Every one must have a beginning; and if you will be ingenious and
willing to learn, there is none will be so churlish or unkind as to be
unwilling to teach you; but if you are stubborn  and careless, who do
you think will trouble themselves with you?  Beware  of Gossips, for
they will misadvise you; beware of the sollicitations of the flesh,
for  they will undo you;  and though you may have mean thoughts of
your self, and think none will  meddle with  such as you; it is a
mistake, Hungry Dogs will eat dirty Puddings; and I  my self have
known a brave Gallant to fall foul with the Wench of the Skullery,
when  some others  would have hazarded their life for one sole
enjoyment of that  incomparable Lady his Wife,  he so ingratefully
slighted. Instructions for
Dairy-Maids in great Houses.   Have a care that all your Vessels be scalded well, and kept very
clean; that you 

milk your  Cattel in due time; for your Kine by custom, will expect
it, though you  neglect it, which  will tend much to their
detriment. Waste not your Cream by giving it away to liquorish persons; keep
certain days for your  Churning, and be sure to make up your Butter
neatly and cleanly, washing  it well from the  Butter-milk, and then
salt it well. Be careful to make your Cheeses good and tender, by well ordering
them; and see that your Hogs have the whey, and that it be not given
away  to idle or gossipping people, who live  meerly upon what they
can get from servants: That you provide your  Winter-Butter and Cheese
in the Summer, as in May; and when your Rowens come in, be sparing  of
your  Fire; and do not lavish away your Milk-butter or Cheese. If you have any Fowls to fat, or Pigs, look to them that it may be
your credit, and not your shame, when they come to the Table. When you milk your Cattel, stroke them well, and in the
Summer-time  save those strokings by themselves, to put into your
morning-Milk-cheese. Instructions for
Laundry-Maids in great Houses.   Your duty will be to take care of all the Linnen in the house,
excepting Points and Laces;  whatever you wash, do it up quickly, that
it may not stink and grow  yellow, and be forced  to the washing again
before it be used. Let all the bracks in the Linnen, or rents, be duly mended; and
keep  your certain days of  washing, and other days for the making
clean of such 

 Rooms as are appointed you. Be sparing of your Soap, Fire and Candle. Entertain no Chare-woman unknown to your Lady or Mistress. Be careful that your Tubs and Copper, or whatever else you make
use  of, be kept clean,  and in good repair. That you rise early every morning, but more especially on
Washing-days. Instructions for
House-Maids in great Houses.   Your principal Office is to make clean the greatest part of the
house; and so that you susser no room to lie foul; that you look well
to  all the stuff, and see that they be often brushed, and the Beds
frequently turned. That you do not misplace anything by carrying it out of one room
into  another, for that is  the way to have them lost, or you soundly
chid for their being not in  their proper places. That you be careful for, and diligent to all Strangers, and see
that  they lack nothing in their  Chambers, which your Mistress or
Lady will allow; and that your  Close-stools and  Chamber-pots be duly
emptied and kept clean. That you help the Laundry-maid in a morning on a Washing-day. That in the Afternoon you be ready to help the House-keeper or the
Waiting-woman in their Preserving and Distilling. To Scullery-Maids
in great Houses. 
 There are several Rooms that you must keep sweet and clean, as the
Kitchen, Pantry,  Wash-house, etc. That you wash and scowre all the Plates and Dishes which are used
in  the Kitchen, also  Kettles, Pots, Pans, Chamber-pots, with all
other Iron, Brass, and Pewter  materials that  belong to the Chambers
or Kitchen; and lastly, you must wash your own  Linnen. Thus Ladies; I have endeavoured to shew your Servant their duties
in  their respective  places and what qualifications they ought to
have, which may enable and  fit them for your  service.  I shall now
return to the Compleatment of those Accomplishments  which best become
your noble and gentile extraction. I have already declared how you ought to be educated from your
Minority to better Maturity of years, and from thence what your
deportment ought to be to all persons in all places; there remaineth
only  some instructions how you may talk and that elegantly, to the
same  persons at a distance whether relations, friends or
acquaintance, and  that is by Letter;  having given you some general
instructions how to pen them I shall lay  you down some  choice
patterns of Letter upon several occasions for your imitation.  I shall
conclude at  present this Treatise with some witty Dialogues, or
interchaneable  Discourses between  several of your Sex emi-nent for
birth, worth, and ingenuity.Some
general and choice Rules for writting of  Letters.  First, what a Letter is?  It is or ought to be the express image
of  the Mind, represented in  writing to a friend at a distance;
wherein is declared what He or She  would do or have  done.  This
excellent use we have of Letters, that when distance of  place, will
not admit of  Union  of persons, or converse Viva voce; that
deplorable defect is  supplied by a Letter or  Missive; and indeed the
necessity of conversing one with another as long  as we live, layeth
an unavoidable congency of communicating our affairs each to other,
without which  friends at a distance could have no correspondence one
with the  other. Though it lieth not in the power of every one to make use of these
excellent means for  reciprocal Communication; yet we see daily the
illiterate and ignorant  will make hard shifts  rather than go without
the benefit thereof, applying themselves to  friends that can write;
or  if they have none, to Scriveners or other strangers, venturing
their  secrets with them, rather  than their friend shall go without
the knowledg of them. But as for you, Ladies, for whole use this Book was framed, I
question not your writing  well; but without inditing well it will
signise but little; to the intent  therefore you may polish  your
Epitolical compositions observe these two things therein, that is, the
Matter and Form. The Matter of Letters is any thing that may be discoursed of
without  any exception; or that 

which you wuold freely discover to your Relations, or discourse to
your  friend when  present the same you would do by Letter when he is
absent, if it stands  with conveniency.   For sometime it is not
convenient to trust that in a sheet of paper which  is lost or
miscarried  may be the great demment, if not the utter ruin of the
person.  This  matter you must know  varieth much according to the
subject you write upon.  I shall endeavour  to treat a little of  all
the common subjects which are the usual occasions of
Letter-writing.Of
Intelligence or Advice.  These Letters are the informers of our friends, of our own, or
others  concerns.  There is no great matter of invention required in
them, for  the very subject will afford you matter  enough; all that
is required of you in this, are these two things; the  frist, that you
word your  Matter well, and that you write not any thing undervisedly,
which you  cannot justifie; but  above all, have a care of
News-writing, if it nearly concern the State,  or any great person
thereunto belonging.Of
Friend-chastisement.  IF you have a dear female-friend whom you suspect of any youthful
excursions, especially levity, and would reduce her to a better
understanding, mildly lay open her errors; and therein discover what
an  enemy she hath been to God and to her own reputation; that there
is no way 

to reconcile her self to God and the World, but by her future
exemplary  modest  carriage.  And that she may not think, your
reproofs have their original  from malice or  hatred to her person,
declare what a great esteem you ever had for her  excellent parts, and
rare endowments of mind; and what a pity it is, such excellencies
should  be eclipsed by  such foul miscarriages; that is not your
sorrow alone, but the grief of  several of her friends;  and then
subtilly insinuate this, That had it not been a friend you so  dearly
loved, you could  have been well content to have been silent; but
contrary, the love you  bear her, obliged you  to reveal the evil
reports you have heard of her, and how troubled you  are to see her
commendations so limited with exceptions.  Were it not that she is -
she  is absolutely one  of the finest Gentlewomen in Europe.  Then
conclude, that you hope she  will take all in  good part; and that she
will highly oblige you, to use the same freedom  as you have done with
her, if she hears ought amiss.Of
giving good Counsel.  You may in the first place excuse your rash intrusion, in giving
counsel before it be  required, but the bonds of freindship were so
strong that you could not  forbear, and  therefore hoped she would
take all in good part; and then inculcate this,  that you did not
doubt the sufficiency of her judgment, but being tender of her welfare
and knowing of  what weighty concern the business in hand imported,
that it was not for a  year

 or a  day,  but for life, you could do no less, being full fraught
with a most entire  affection, but tell  her, she must consider - then
tell her what your advice is, and be sure  you back it with the  best
reasons and arguments you can summon together; making it appear,  that
your counsel  is both honest and profitable, and not self-interested;
and it only tends  to her lasting good  here, and eternal hereafter;
husbanding your reasons according to the  person you deal with.
Conclude with an hearty ejaculation to God, that he may direct her for
the best, following  the good advice you have given, etc. If you are a Mother of Children, and would write to them, or to
your  Servant, you need not have rules in so doing, the plainer you
write, the  better it is and they will more readily  understand you;
you need no more than signifie to them what you wuold  have done, and
what undone; as for reasons, you need not alledg any to encourage them
in  their duty, your  power is sufficient, and your command is the
only reason why they should  do so, or so;  however, if you see any
refractoriness in your Children, it will not be  amiss, to urge how
just your commands are, and how easily performed, adding the promise
of a  reward, if  they fulfil your desire; but threats and menaces of
punishment, if they  disobey; but  concluding, you hope to find them
so towardly, that they will not need  correction.Of
requesting a kindness.  Letters of this nature, are of two kinds; the first is, when one
Gentlewoman of quality  sends to another, her very good friend, either
for some courtesie to her  self; or for another;  and then the must
begin with an acknowledgment of her love and how  confident she still
remains in the assurance thereof; then make known your request, and
how  easily it may be  done, and end with a promise of being sensible
of the courtesie, and  retaliation. If the person requesting be somewhat a stranger, but much inferior
to  the person of whom  the entreats the kindness, then she must begin
with an insinuation,  excusing her boldness  in daring to request a
favour of a person whom she never obliged by any  former service;  yet
adding withal, that knowing her goodness, and the delight her Ladiship
takes in  bestowing courtesies on the undeserver, she fears not a
denial.   If it  be upon an urgent  occasion, let her endeavour to
move her, to compassionate her misery,  exaggerating the  greatness
thereof; insisting, that she hath no other way to retrive her
misfortune; that if she  cannot hereafter find any way a requital, yet
she shall notwithstanding  retain the  remembrance of her love or
charity fixed in her heart.  Conclude with a  Prayer to God, so  to
increase her felicity here, that she may never stand in need of a
kindness from any till the  Almighty hath fixed on her head a Crown of
Glory.Of
Recommendation.  IN the recommending of a person, you must shew your motives for so
doing as first, either as she is a Kinswoman, or Friend, and a person
so  worthy as deserving all favour, that  were it not for her goodness
and virtue, you would not utter a word in  her behalf; and  conclude;
that what kindness is done her, is shewn to your  self.How
elegantly to complain of injuries done.   This may be done several ways, if you would mildly complain of a
friend and yet not break with him or her; let your complaint be mixt
with  praises, saying, that you are sorry the  persons deportment hath
not been such as your friendship required;  however, you are so
charitable, as to believe the offence was commited willingly, but
rather  through misprision  or ill perswasion.  But let the offence be
ever so great, do not rail in  opprobrious terms,  though in smart and
significant expressions, saying, that you have  connived too long
patiently at the injuries done you, but finding instead of amendment,
the  person growing  worse, you would be more sensless than stones if
you should not speak;  referring your self  to his own judgment, if
passion hath not quite extinguisht the eye of  reason, whether you are
not very much wrong'd; however, upon a just acknowledgment, you are
willing to  forget all, and retain him or her still in the estimation
of a  friend.Forms of Address or Visit.  IN the first place, insinuate your contentment in discoursing with
your friend face to face,  but since you are deprived thereof, you are
happy still in having the  opportunity and  conveniency of writing:
That you desire to hear of her welfare, both as  to health and other
concerns; that your desire is earnest to see her, and that those dayes
wherein you see her  not, are years; and those years seem ages,
especially when you receive no  Letters from her;  that if she will
continue that correspondence, she shall find occasion of  finding
fault on  your side more of importunity than carelessness or neglect;
and so  conclude with a  protesttation of the continuance of an
inviolable friendship.
Forms of Congratulation.  This is done when we desire to rejoice with our friend for some
great  good that hath befaln him or her, either by escaping from some
eminent  danger, or sickness.  There are several other subjects of
this nature  which you may treat on as they happen, and therefore I
cannot prescribe  you exact rules; only you must testifie the great
satisfaction you  receive in your friends welfare, and that your joy
is not particular, but  all in general have it when good and virtuous
persons are advanced, and  do prosper.Of
Consolation. 
 Letters of Consolation seem to mitigate any evil or adversity that
hath befaln a friend,  which being various cannot well have one remedy
applied to them.  If the  evil be but small,  alledg they have no such
great cause for their sorrowing, the subject not  deserving it; that
they ought to have courage; for pusillanimity wrongs the reputation;
or  if it be great, insist  that it will not last long: But if the
disaster be very great indeed, you  must then aknowledg  how much you
are concerned in his or her sufferings, and that having so  great a
share in  her misfortune, you are fitter to condole than comfort her
therein, yet  however the interest  of alliance or friendship obliges
you to apply some lenitive: That you  cannot perswade her  from
grieving, for that would argue inhumanity; having sustain'd so great a
loss of a  Husband, a Wife, Father, Mother, etc. but hope she or he
will not be so  heartless as to be  carried away in the torrent of a
fruitless grief; that Reason must be  used: for Nature is not  obliged
to alter its course to please him or her particularly, and exempt  it
self for the sake of  one from those Laws to which the whole world is
subject.  In short, when  a misfortune  cannot be withstood,
immoderate grief doth but exasperate it; and that  being a Christian,
there ought to be a submission to Gods Will, and subscribe with a
prayer  to the Almighty,  to give him or her patience to overcome this
great affliction.Form
of thanks for Courtesies received.   Thanks we must apply as well to the nature of the
Courtesie, as to  the quality of him that   hath done it.  You must
begin with a commemoration of the Courtesie  received,  acknowledging
the receiver not worthy thereof, having never done any  obliging
service; or  if you have, yet this hath made double satisfaction; then
promise that  the remembrance of  her love shall be deeply engraven in
your heart; and that you will always  retain a resentment  of her
kindness: This you may write, if the kindness be so highly  qualified
that the person  looks for no other satisfaction than acknowledgment
only. I have given you several forms of Letters, let me now shew you the
parts of a Letter; the  common ones are Superscription and
Subscription. The Superscription of Leters is twofold; the one external, the
other  internal; the outward  Superscription is that when the Letter
is folded up, and containeth the  name, title, and  abode of the
person we write unto; but above all you must have a care  that you
give proper  titles, such as befit the uality of the person. The Title of a King is, To His most Excellent Majesty.  To the
Queen  the same, altering the article.  To all Sons or Brethren of the
King of  England, To His Royal Highness.  To a  Duke, To His Grace.
To a Dutchess the same.  To all Earls, Marquesses,  Viscounts and
Barons, To the right Honourable.  To Marchionesses and Countesses by
Patent, To the  right Honourable.  To all Lords, To the right 

honourable.  To Knights, To the right  Worshipful.  To all Justices of
Peace, High-Sheriffs, Counsellors at Law,  Esquires, either  by birth
or place, etc.  To the Worshipful. The Subscription is placed at the lower end of the Letter; and in
writing to great Persons  you must Subscribe thus,My Lord, or Madam,Your most humble, and most obedient Servant.Or  Your most faithful, and most obliged Servant.S.GTo persons of meaner degree, subscribe your self thus,Your Servant.or Your
Friend and Servant.If kindred write one to another, the greater may express the
relation  in the beginning of the  Letter; but she that is of the
meaner quality must be content to specifie  it in the Subscription.Besides Superscription and Subscription, you must set down what
year  and day you writ  this Letter in, and the place from whence it
came, yet it is not always  convenient to mention  the place, nor the
relation the person hath to you to whom you write.The beginning of all your Letters ought to contain some small
Complements by way of  insinnuation, with a short proposal of what you
intend to say; this is  only observed in long  Letters, otherwise you
may fall upon the Matter immediately.As for the Matter that is according to your Concern, 

and I need not use much order in the  discoursing it, but write what
falls under your pen, not standing much  upon connexion,  unless it be
in Letters of Answer, and then you must follow the order of  those
letters, using  some small transition.  In the Conclusion it is
requisite that you  testifie your affection with  hearty wishes and
prayers for the person you write unto.For the stile of your Letters, let is not be affected but careless,
not much differing from our  usual way of speaking.  In Letters of
Complement supply the barrenness of  your matter  with the smoothness
of your rhetorical exornations; but have a care that  in striving to
avoid  affectation you do not run into improprieties of speech, or
barbarisns.Consider seriously what best besits the things you are to write of,
regarding person, time  and place.  It would be absurd for any one to
write to a superiour as to  a familiar, and that  which would suit
very well with an ancient man, or a person in Authority,  would be
ridiculous for to use to a man of mean degree, or of the younger sort;
surely we are not to  use the like expressions to a Soldier, as we do
to a Scholar or Lady.Be not too prolix in your writing, nor too short; but observe a
mediocrity or mean betwixt  them: In the avoiding of tautologies, do
not omit any thing that may  conduce to the  illustration of your
matter.Do not study for hard words, but such as are either plain, or very
significant; this  perspicuity of writing is to be measur'd according
to the capacity of the  person to whom the  Letter is directed; 

for some will easily conceive what is difficult and hard for others to
comprehend.Have especial care of blotting your paper, giving it a large
Margent;  and be curious in the  cutting your Letters, that they may
delight the sight, and not the the  Reader.Lastly, be curious in the neat folding up your Letter, pressing it
so  that it may take up but  little room, and let your Seal and
Superscription be very fair.Having given you general instructions how to compose and indite
Letters, it follows that I  here insert some of the best patterns for
your imitation.
Letters upon all Occasions. Of
Complement.  Madam,  I Am by so many Obligations yours, that the only want of occasion
to  give you testimony  thereof alone breeds in me all my discontent;
esteeming my self  unfortunate in nothing so  much; and that the
passion which carrieth me to your service, proves as  unprofitable as
extream; which forceth me to have recourse to intreaties, beseeching
you  to honour me with  your commands, that (other means failing) my
obedience may oblige you to  believe that I  am,Madam,Your most humble
and affectionate  Servant.
Another of the like nature.  Madam,THough I have told you a thousand times by word of mouth how much I
am  your Servant;  yet my Pen shall once more assure you of the same;
I only wait for some  eminent proofs to  demonstrate the truth of my
profeession; I do heartily wish that you  would not longer make  me
expect an opportunity, but lay your command, 

which may satisfie my impatience, to  make you know and confess at the
same time, that you may have more  powerful and more  considerable
Servants, but never,Madam,  One more obedient
and faithful. 
Their Answers.  Madam, I Will be so presumptiuious (since you desire it) as to believe you
love me, but on  condition that you will acknowledg the passion I have
to serve you.  For  as it only makes  me merit the honour of your
friendship , so I should be very glad that  you would  everlastingly
conserve the memory thereof.  Continue then in loving me as  much as
you  plese, and likewise esteem infallibly that I am more than all the
world  besides,Madam,  Your very
Servant. 
Another Answer.  Madam, I Am not so unfortunate as I thought I was, since I see I hold some
place still in your  memory; yet the grief which I entertain for not
deserving the honour,  hath reduced my  thoughts 

to such a moderation, that I am in doubt whether I should complain or
rejoyce.  It  remains in you only, to allay the discontent of my mind,
by giving me  some employment in  your service, which may witness the
passion I have to maintain the  quality of,Madam, Your faithful
Servant.A
Letter from a Gentlewoman at a Boarding-School in Hackney, to her
quondam School-fellow in London.  Indeared Friend,  I Have laid aside the exercise of my Needle, that I may employ my
hand some little time in  the management of my Pen, that herein I may
assure you, that the strong  inclinations I have  to manifest my self
your friend upon all accounts, will not permit me to  let slip any
opportunity wherein I may evidence this truth.  I am troubled that you
are not always as  ready to honour me with your commands, as I am
zealous and forward to  obey them.  That  cordial respect I bear you,
hath so strongly link'd me to you, that into  whatsoever condition
fortune shall throw me, I shall still retain the memory of your
affection, and must not live  when I cease to love you, whom above
mine own welfare I esteem, and  therefore must  subscribe my self,
dearest friend,  Your most affectionate, etc, M.G.The
Answer to it.  Most Obliging Friend,  I Am ravisht with content, to see how your curious
art, and  delicateness thereof, can so  happily translate your hand
and fancy from on slower to another, the one  as the draught of  your
Needle, the other of your Pen, were I to be judg, I knew not which  to
give the  greatest praise or encomium, the Flourishes of the Pen, or
the Flowers of  the Needle; the  one might make Arachuy's Maids of
Honour (I mean those delicate fingered  Nuns) to  blush, to be
out-done; and from the other, a Secretary to a Queen may  gather
eloquence and  fancy.  You need not make the least question of my
love, or the integrity  thereof, for  although I want the art of
Rhetorick to represent it, yet my deeds and  services shall be the
elaborate Elocutors which shall express my self to be, Your most cordially affectionate Servant, S.L.From
the above-nam'd M.G. to the said S.L.  acknowledging her and her
School-fellows sorrow for her absence, giving an account of the
accustomed care of her  Governess.  Dear Friend,  WE remain in the state and condition you left us, there being no
access as yet, of any more numbers, but only of your griefs for your
absence, which increase, as our desires do  increase or our daily
discourses of you.  We under stood not our  happiness till your
departure from us, being now made sensible of the good we enjoyed, by
being deprived  thereof.  Our Governess is as active and watchful as
ever, down with the  Sun and up with  the Lark, and then doth her
messenger summon us to desert our beds, if  she perceives any
unwilling, she subtilly tempers the unpleasantness of her early
importunity; she perswades  them thereunto, by alledging, what benefit
thereby will accrew to their  healths; nor is her  accustomed care to
be discommended, since therein she aims not only at  the benefit of
our  Bodies, but the eternal welfare of our Souls in the performance
of our  duties to God and  our Parents.  She continues her former
jealousie, not suffering a Letter  to come into the  house wihtout her
knowledg thereof; and herein her prudence is highly to  be commended,
for by her strict examination of these Paper-messengers, she shuts the
doors against a great  many which might be the Bawds which might
betray 

the Obedience of some, and the  Chastity of others.  Neither are there
any Answers returned to any  Letters but what she is  privy to; by
which means, there is nothing we write we need be ashamed  of, were it
legibly  written on our Foreheads as well as Papers.  I question not
but you have  heard your old  Bed-fellow Mrs. F.G. hath lately
entertained a new one, being married to  a Gentleman, as  deserving in
excellency of parts as nobility of birth; I long to hear of  the like
in you whose  good fortunes shall always be attended with the greatest
acclamations of  joy which can  proceed from  Your most affectionate
Friend, M.G.The
Answer.  Indearedly Beloved,  YOU honour me much with the testimony of yur affection; and do
glad  my heart by giving me to understand, that your Governess
continueth her  vigilancy and accustomed care; if she reap the praise
thereof, the profit  will be yours and yet she will be a gainer too,
for this will  be the means to increase the number of her Scholars.
Mr. F. G.'s.  marriage is no news to  me, wishing her all happiness in
her choice, and that her fortune may be  answerable to her
incomparable virtues; but for your good wishes to me in the like
nature,  (though I am  thankful to you or 

for them, yet) I should not be displeased, if you did forbear to utter
them, for if good Husbands are Miracles, why should I afflict my self
with the vain  expectation of them, since Miracles are ceased?  I can
best content my  self with my present  condition, having thereby a
greater liberty to express my self to be,Your passionate and most obliged Friend
and  Servant, S. L.To a
Kinswoman discoursing about Fashions.   Beloved Cousin,  I Thank you for your Papers, and the trouble of that spruce
inventory  you sent me, which I desired more out of curiosity than any
intention of  conformity thereunto; for indeed the  vanity was
sufficient to satiate  an ordinary appetite; and besides, mine  is no
way greedy of  such idle kickshaws.  I find fault with most of these
Modes, not for  their levity only but  brevity also, especially such
as are far-fetcht for a fortnights  wearings, and leaves not a  good
Huswife a relique worth the keeping.  I have learned in a great
manner, That the  fashion of the world passeth away, and therefore I
cannot think it but a  piece of great  imprudence, to spend so much
industry upon a frail and perishing object;  yet I am not  against
such natural or native dececies, which may difference persons,  and
bring not an 

unprofitable expence upon their finery; no more than I discommend a
sumptuous Feast,  when I censure one that is ridiculour; for I know
not what secret power  of blandishment  there is in an handsome
ornament, even to court beauty it self; and  therefore it must be more
advantagious to those, whose small imperfections it conceals.  Bu of
all  incongruities, deformity and the fashion, I take to be the
uggliest: you  know how  indifferently I cam concern'd in these cases,
and therfore will easily  pardon this humour of  Your most humble Servant,A
Letter from one Lady to another, condemning  Artificial-beauty.  Madam,  YOU are so absolute in the endowments of your mind and perfections
of  body, that I  cannot but honour you; having formerly experienced
your love to me  particularly, and the  greatness of your Wit to all;
I hope you will excuse this rudeness if I  desire your opinion
concerning borrowed beauty from art; and whether it may be lawfully
used  by such as  profess Religion and a good Conscience?  I must
confess my own judgment  is much  unsetled; nevertheless, I have been
informed by many learned and godly  men, that it is a  great sin, and
undoubtedly inconsistent with a Christian, and a good  Conscience.  I
do find  that washing and painting is condemned in holy Writ, as the
practise 

of loose licentious and  lascivious Women; who with the deforming of
their Souls, and polluting  their  Consciences, do use the Art for
embellishing their Counternances.  The  new Testament  affirms we
cannot make one hair of our head white or black; and if we   have
neither the  complexion of our hairs, then much less the complexion of
our Cheeks and  Faces.  It  argueth besides, ingratitude to the
Almighty, when we are not content  with what He hath  made; and the
higheest presumption in thinking or daring to mend it.  St.  Paul, and
St.  Peter prescribed desly, shamefastness and sobriety, and not with
gorgeous  apparel, or with  braided Hair, God or Pearls; and if these
things were forbidden, how much  more is  washing or painting the
Face, which is suitable (some think( to none but  light vanity of
their conversation.  So that this Artificial beauty may appear to be
divinely forbidden as an  enemy to Truth, which needeth none but its
own native complexion; and is  so far from  being beholding to Art for
any addition to enliven her colour, or to put  a blush upon it, that
she converteth even Deformities and Decays into advantages and
Perfections.  Besides, that  this adding of colour and complexion
proceeds from Pride, is without  controversie; and  should it not
reflect on wantonness, yet it doth on arrogance to borrow,  and then
challenge  that beauty to be ours, which is not but by an adventitious
wealth.   Moreover, this self- conceit is an enemy to humility 

and grace, and would degrees over-top al virtue.  And now  grant it
were neither scandalously sinful, nor absolutely unlawful, yet  the
offence it giveth  to the true and strict Professors of Piety is a
sufficient argument, that  it ought not to be  practised.  Although
many things may be permitted in themselves, yet they  become evil and
are to be forborn, when others are offended at them.  Neither is this
all; for the very name  of a painted face is enought to destroy the
reputation of her that useth  it, and exposeth her  to all manner of
reproaches.  We are taught to follow things of a good  report, that we
may  not only be good but that in all things we may preserve the
reputation of  a good name.  If  the light of Scriptures were not so
clear & full against all artificial  beauty, yet the light of  Nature
doth seem to discover an uncomeliness therein.  There is none but  may
conclude, if  God threatens to punish strange apparel, he will not
spare to punish  strange faces. Madam, pardon the tediousness of my letter, which I have extended
almost to the length of a Treatise; I was the more large, because I
would  be the more fully satisfied in your  answer, which in a
labouring-expectation I attend; if your Ladiship will  deign me this
favour, you will infinitely oblige her, who is  Madam, Your most
humble and affectionate Servant The
Answer of an ingenious Lady.  Madam,  YOU have been pleas'd to impose a great  task upon me, which I am
resolved to discharge, not so much to shew any wit or knowledg in my
self, as your power over me, by my obedience to your commands; what I
shall say on this subject in the defence thereof, I shall  be obliged
thereunto by the rules of Reason, and not the liberty of  practice.  I
cannot deny  but that several reverend and learned persons are of a
judgment opposite  to mine which  have prevailed on the credulity of
many your Ladies, and did at first  upon muy own, until I  began to
examine the grounds of their opinions, and to value more the  weight
of their  reasons than the gravity and number of their persons.  I do
not find that  these persons can  produce out of Scripture any reasons
of fforce which expresly forbid the  using any Art in  the
imbellishing the Countenance: The opinions of men are not of any power
to charge the  Soul with sin in things of outward use and custom,
neither in this  particular are the Divines  themselves all of one
mind; for I know many excellent persons, who wisely  forbear to
condemn the use of these things as sin, that are innocently helpful to
the beauties of modest  women; for indeed they are as far form sin,or
not from sin, as the minds  of those that use  them are disposed
either to a modest decency, or to pride and vanity.   Now where it is
objected, that Jezabel was devoured by Dogs, because she painted

 her eyes; if your  Ladiship be pleased to look again on the History,
you shall find that the  painting of her face  or eyes was thirteen or
fourteen years before the Prophet Elisha presaged  her ruin; and it
was no more a cause of her dreadful death than the dressing her head,
or  her looking out at  the Window, which was at one and the same
time, and one of them as  innocent as the  other.  If all that Jezabel
did is to be avoided as a sin, we may not  call a solemn assembly,  or
keep a Fast, because she did so, as appeareth by the same History: We
may not embrace  or kiss a friend, because Joah did so when he killed
Abner; and Judas,  when he betray'd  his Master.  And as for Herodias
dancing, which was the cause of John  Baptists death, you  shall find
in the Gospel that she danced alone, which is allowed by our austerest
Divines,  and by the precise Matrons in the education of their
Children.  She  danced not with Herod,  but before him; and it was not
the decent motion of her feet, but the  disorderly motions of her
heart, and the perversness of her spirit to the Doctrine of St. John,
that was the cause of  his murther.  And as for those places in the
Prophets, from whence  scrupulous and  censorious persons do infer
that the painting of the face is a sin; we  may truly answer, it is
not therefore unlawful because we find it there sometimes condemned as
unreasonable; or  because vain and loose Women do practise it,
therefore the modest must  altogether disclaim  it.  Believe me,
Madam, in the whole Scripture there is not any Moral command to be
found that doth expresly forbid this artificial adorning 

the fact.   We may read that Queen  Esther made use of sweet perfumes,
of gorgeous habiliments, and beautiful  colours; nay,  whatsoever was
then in fashion, the more to attract the eyes and  affections of the
King unto  her; and this was in her so far from a sin, that it had
been almost a sin  in her not to have  done it.  We find that Rebeccah
almost in the infancy of the world,  received ornaments for  her
hands, her neck and ears, and certainly she thought it no
disparagement to her modesty  or her piety to wear them.   Neither is
it any new invention for Ladies  to use artificial helps  for the
advancement of their beauties; it is as general as ancient, and  there
is no Nation but  doth practise it without any reproach of vanity or
pride.  And although  in this Nation a  commendable discretion is used
in powdering, curling, and gumming the  hair, and  quickning the
complexion; yet in forreign parts it is every-where  frequently done,
and as  freely owned.  It is (strange methinks that supplies should be
allowed of  for bodily defects  and deformities; the Shoo-maker is
imployed and commended for making the  body higher;  and the Taylor
for making it straighter, and must we account it a sin or  scandal to
advance  the beauty of the face?  Much more might be alledged to prove
the truth  hereof, but I have  been already too tedious, and have
punished your expectation with the  length of my Letter,  which not
withstanding the innocence of the subject, is a sin or fault in  her,
who I,  Madam, Tour most
devoted Servant, etc. A
Lady to her Daughter, perswading her from  wearing Spots and
Black-patches in her face.  Daughter,  THE indulgent care of a loving Mother makes me keep my eye
continually on you; it hath  been my great comfort hitherto in that
you have seem'd a prosest enemy  against the vices of  this present
age; but now it is no small grief to me that I hear you are  too much
addicted to  its fashions; and that lately you have been seen with
those deformities  which are commonly  called Black-patches.  A
fashion till of late never practiced by any, nor  your half-Moos  used
in the Turkish Serglio; no nor ever read of in all the Histories of
the vanities of  Women.  It appeareth strange to me, that your
Gentlewomen should lose  their reason with  their modesty, and think
that they add to their beauty by fubstracting  from it.  I must deal
plainly with you, I am afraid that the black Oath of God-damn-me in
the  mouth of a Ranter,  and the Black-patch in the face of a
Gentlewoman, are near of kin one to  another.  I shall  therefore
assume the freedom of power which is due unto me, and command  you to
wear  them no more till I am better satisfied in their decency or
lawfulness;  thus not doubting of  your obedience, I commit you with
my blessing to the blessed Protection  of the God of all  blessings,
and rest  Your tenderly loving and careful Mother, M.N.The
Answer of a dutiful Daughter.  Madam,  IT is as well Religion as Duty in me, To render you all
observances,  which I shall make my delight as well as employment.  My
greatest  blessing is the continuance of your love,  which obligeth me
to encrease my thankfulness as well as my obedience.  I  perceive some
censorious tongue hath been too busie with my face, and hath
endeavoured  to throw dirt on  it, because it hath been lately spotted
in the fashion; a fashion that  hath as much innocence  to plead for
its excuse, as custom for its authority.  Venus the Goddess  of beauty
was born  with a Motticella, or natural beauty-spot, as if Nature had
set forth a  pattern for Art to  imitate.  You may see every day some
little clouds over the face of the  Sun, yet he is not  ashamed of his
attraction; nay, some of late with an Optick-glass have  discovered
some  macula or spots in the very face of the Sun, yet they are not
attributed  as his deformities.   The Moon when she is at Full and
shining in her greatest lustre, hath in  her face some  remarkable
spots, and herein is placed her chiefest glory; as being in  every
thing inconstant  but in this.  When I put on my Mask, which is no
more nor better than one  great patch, you  do commen me for it; and
will you be displeased with me for wearing a few  black patches?
Which if they are cut into Stars, do represent unto me whither I would
go; or if into little  worms, whither I must go; the one of them
testifying in me the sense of  my unworthiness 

to increase my humility, and the other the height of my meditations to
advance my  affections.  It is the unhappiness of the most harmless
things, to be  subject to the greatest  misconstruction; and on the
same subject from whence others draw their  suspitions of  curiosity
to accuse our pride, we derive the greatest arguments of  discipline
and instruction  to defend our innocence; neither is the ignorance of
antiquity in  relation to them, any  argument of weight to condemn
their novelty; for the Black-bags on the  head are not much  older
than the Black-spots on the face, and much less may be said for  them,
only they have  had the good luck in the City not to meet with
contradiction, although in  the Country they  are much cavil'd at,
unless worn by Gentlewomen of eminent note and  quality.
Nevertheless, according to the obligation of my duty, to give you in
all  things satisfaction,  I am determined to wear them no more; not
that I find any such vanity in  them, but that by  the fruits of my
obedience, you may perceive what an absolute power your  commands have
over her, who is  Madam, Your most
humble and most obedient Daughter, S.N.Love
protested, with its Repulse.  Madam,  IT hath pleased Heaven you should  have the sole command of my
affections, with which I am joyfully content, and stand disposed to
obey  you in every thing, when you shall be  pleased to count me
worthy of your service.  Enjoying you I must account  my self the
happiest man in the world; but being deprived of you I shall not only
live, but die  miserably; either then reward him who adores you, or
chastise him who  idolizeth you.  Yet  must I confess all my good to
proceed from you, and that all the evil I  can endure must  come from
your disdain; however hoping that you will commiserate my  languishing
condition, I shall greedily subscribe my self,  Intirely Yours, etc,The
Answer.  S I R,  IF it hath pleas'd Heaven you should love me, you cannot blame me
though you suffer by  it; should I accept the tenders of affection
from all such amorour  pretenders, I might be  married to a whole
Troop, and make my self a legal Prostitute.  My  inclinations lean not
your way; wherefore give me leave to tell you, That you would do
better  to bestow your  affections on some Lady who hath more need of
a Servant 

than I have.  And if you think  your affection ought not to go
unrewarded, receive the perswasions which  I give you,  never to
trouble me more, lest you run a worse hazard by persevering in  your
intentions.   Be advised by her who is.  Your faithful Monitor and humble Servant,
etc.,
				
I shall swell this Volume into too great a bulk, should I give you
patterns of Letters for all  decasions; set what I have here set down
suffice, referring you for your  better information  and instruction
to the incomparable Letters of Monsieur Voiture,  translated into
English,  Mr. Howel, and Mr. Lovedays Ingenious Letters, with many
more; every  Booksellers- shop affording great plenty.  And now to
conclude, pray accept of these  ingenious  Dialogues, which will tend
as well to your further instruction, as  recreation.Pleasant Discourses and witty Dialogues between  Males and Females, as
well gentiliz'd by Birth as accomplish by generous  Education.  The Resolute Lover: A Pastoral
Dialogue.  Amyntas.  Stay, dearest, stay.  Amarillis,  Shepherd, why do you thus
follow  me? Amyns.   I needs must follow, Sweetest, for
you have my heart. Amar.   Who I prithee tell me where it is,
and  how I shall restore it? Amynt.   It hangs upon your eyes; but being
there scorched with disdain, and dazled with their sufier, it flies
for  ease unto your rosie lips; but being repulsed thence with harsh
denials,  it hovers still about you, hoping to rest it self within
your breast; but  all its endeavours have been fruitless, for your
hard heart would not  give it entertainment. Amar.   Well, if my heart be so hard as you
would make it, I rejoice in my safety, it being then strong enough to
be  a sence to my honour. Amynt.   You make a sence in vain to guard
the  Sheep where no Wolf ever came. Amar.   O but my fears, Amyntas!  How shall
I  cherish the man that would undo my Chasity? Amynt.   Then cherish me, who never
attempted  any thing to cast a spot on that white innocence to which I
am a most  religious Votary. Amar.   And canst thou love, and yet he
chaste  in thy desires? Amynt.   Yes, fairest, I could be content
to  love and have our souls united, though we are not conjoined in our
persons. Amar.   Let me contain thee then within
mine  arms; the force of greatest winds that shake, nay root up the
aged Oak,  shall not divide us. Amynt.   My joys do overflow!  My
happpiness,  is too great to survive the enjoyment: O let me vent my
grateful heart,  or else it burst! Here, here's a spreading Poplar,
under whose cooler  shade thou salt seal thy promise
Amaryllis. Amar.  'Tis done, not to be repented of;
and  now methinks I here could stay, my dear Amyntas, till death moved
his  cold dart, and beckned ut to follow him to the lower shades; and
by his  angry power, make these my warm embraces cold.  Amynt. May we never, never part, That thy delight I may prolong, Decar Amarillis hear this
Song. Come my sweet, whilst every strainCalls our
souls into the ear, Where thy greedy listnings fairWould run into the sound they hear. Lest in desire. To fill the Quire, Themselves they tyeTo
harmony. Let's kiss and call them back again. Now let us orderly convey. Our Souls into each others
Breast, Where interchanged let them stay, Slumbering
in a melting rest. Then with new fireLet them
retireAnd still presentSweet fresh content; Youthful as the early day. Then let us a turmult makeShuffing so our Souls, that we, Careless who did give or
take, May not know in whom they be. Then let each
smotherAnd stifle, the other, Till we expireIn
gentle fire; Scorning the forgetful Lake.
Addresses of Love and Service, from Erotus to  Aurelia.  Erot.   Madam, invited, or rather forced,
by  the just commendations which Englands Metropolis and other famed
places  attribute to your merits, I here prostrate my respects and
service, which  I shall desire you to esteem obedient to your will,
until the time of my  perserverance manifest them to be constant and
faithful. Aurel.   Sir, report is commonly a Lyar,
and  now proves more favourableto me than truth; you know I am
flatter'd, and  you add thereunto by presenting  seigned love and
service to the honour  of this imaginary merit. Erot.    Madam, you seem ingrateful to
overkind and indulgent Nature, in wronging that  incomparable beauty
she hath prodigally bestow'd upon you, which is so  Paramount, it can
produce no other effects but servent desires, and passionate
endeavours  to serve you. Aurel.  Sir, your Rheorick may work
Miracles,  but it can never alter my belief. Erot.    Then, Madam, I see there nothing
remains but my future obedience and affection, which must condemn your
misbelief, and authorize this truth. Aurel.  Such expressions float commonly on
the  streams of this Ages affection, which usually produce nothing but
Artifice, although they pretend to the greatest service. Erot. I know it is ordinary for some to
confirm Promises with Oaths, when at that instant they ne're intended
to  perform them; but that which will insuse a belief that I follow
not the  common custom fo the times, is and will be the sincerity of
my love, and  constancy of my service.  Aurel.  Sir, your enterprise will not be
worth  your pains; and should you obtain your desire, I know not how
you will  bear with the loss of being cheated in your hopes.  Erot. However, Madam, my resolution is
fixt;  and although you should make the end of it unfortunate or
successless,  yet is shall be the glory of 

my courage that I fell from high attempts.  Aurel. Seeing you thus ground your hope o n
misfortune, hope can nno way harm you; for is it deceive you, it makes
you notwithstanding happy.  Erot.  May I be so happy!  Aurel. I shall never advise a soul of your
generosity to rest upon such a design, the resolution being so mean
that  it must needs be followed with sorrow and repentance. Erot.  My encouragement will be the gaining
of  as much honour in the enterprize as difficulty in the worthy
archieving.   Aurel.  If you made but half the proofs of
these many prossers of service, you would be famous throughout the
whole  Empire of Love.  Erot.  Madam, have patience to see the
guidance of my love by the light of that fire your fair self hath
kindled, which when your Luminaries are by death extinct, shall never
be  extinguished. A
merry Dialogue between on ingenious Gentlewoman and a Poetaster or
Rimer.  Poet.    Madam, I'm come to tell you I have
writ; Your praise & glory wrapt up in my wit.   Then pray accept and
grace it with a smile, Your humble servant I my self shall stile. Gent.    After she had read his Verses,
thus  she speaks; Now prithee tell me, are these lines of your own
composition? Poet.   They are indeed, Madam. Gent.   Now beshrew me if I did not think
so;  the conceits are as poor as thy habit, and the whole matter like
thy  self, hunger-starved; prithee leave off 

riming, and beg some other  way, in the ancient manner of such who
haunt Morefields on Sundays; if  thou hadst but a  fore leg or arm,
with a Partner, the structure of whole body is built on  timber, (in
plain  English) a wooden-leg; thou thous wouldst thrive on't. Poet.   Accept pray Madam, what I  here
have  writ: Pay first your Poet, and then shew your wit. Gent.    Then I see you are a Mercenary
Scribler: Come tell me truly, how many have you  presented with this
Encomium with no other alteration than the name; I  dare lay my life
an  hundred; your Verses are great Travellers; and yet I date engage
my life  they have never  been as far as Parnassus; but there is not a
Gentlemans house in the  whole Kingdom in  which they have not been
convenrsant, and yet I wonder how they came to  have such  universal
entertainment: as for my own part, I must confess plainly they  are
too lousie and  beggarly to lodg underneath my roof; they will insect
my Foot-men. Poet.   If these do not like you, Lady,
fair  and bright, Here's more I do present unto your sight. Gent.    Did you make them your self? Poet.   Did I not? What a quesion is that?
How  do you think I should come by them, unless  I bought them?  Some
I know can buy Verses cheaper than they can make  them; but I am  no
Sales-man in one respect though in another I may be said to be so;
Sales-men use to  have Clothes in their shop which Taylors make, and
yet they own the  work. Gent.   I marry, Sir, these savour of
raptures  and Poetical fancies! Poet.    Do you smell them, Mada?  I hope
they  do not offend your Ladiships nose. Gent.   Bur hold Sir, how comes this about?
Here is one Verse is running a race with another, and hath the start
of  him, three feet at least? Poet.     I did it on purpose to see which
would run fastest, or in imitation of a Hare, who is swister of foot
than  a Dog, and therefore is commonly before-hand with him. Gent.    I, but Sir, here his another hath
ran  too much, hath prickt his foot, and halts down right. Poet.   Why, look you, there lyes the
conceit  my invention is rare by way of imitation; lame  halting
Verses are commendable, or Magnum Jovis incrementum had never  been
writ; here  lyeth the greatest art, and herein I express no small
courage, making my  enemies come  home short by a leg; and to tell you
truly, I am a sow'r Satyrist (alias)  an Jambograher. Gent.    In the name of goodness, what was
that you mambled!  I hope you are no Conjurer; there's word with all
my  heart! Poet.    Why, this it is to be ignorant; or
as  we Latins say, Ars nullum babet inimicum nist  ignorantem; it is
my pride and glory that I speak beyond the reach of  Phlegmatick
feminine  capacity; but I will condescend so low as to explain this
significant  word of my own  composition, Jambographer; in the first
place, know it is partly Greck,  and partly I know  not what, but the
signification in short, is a keen and sharp Versifier,  whose lines
prick  worse than Spanish Needles or in short, you may hang your self
in a part  of them. Gent.    I thank you, Sir, for your good
advice, but if you and your lines are such dangerous company, pray let
me  have no more of their society; and so farewell. Poet.   Nay, one word more; I cannot only
hang  with Jambicks, but I can fetch blood with Asclepiads; cudgel and
bastinado with Sapphicks, and whip to death with Phaleucruhis. Gent.   Pray practice, Sir, first on your
self, 'tis no matter which of them you take to free the world of such
an  insufferable burthen.  Adieu.A
form of Discourse at a casual meeting between Silvester and
Sylvia.  Silvest.  Madam I see your inclinatons to
vintue so powerful, that you are even restless but when you are in the
sociey of such who make the greatest proof thereof.  Sylvia.  Sir, your judgment concerning the
company is most true; for there cannot be more accomplished persons,
nor  any honester content found in any society whatever: but your
courtesie  exceeds in attributing praises to her who least desreves
them, and  comparatively to the rest, hath no considerable
perfection.  Silvest.  Your modesty and humility (which
is  the crown of your excellencies) makes you speak disadvantagiously
of your  self, which I must not connive at, lest I run into an
unpardonable  errour; and I should look upon my self as most unworthy
to look upon so  fair an object, and not to admire its perfections,
the lustre whereof 

can never be eclipsed by your undervaluings. Sylvia.   Sir, the higher you strain your
eloquence, the more reason I have to shun those Elogies whereof you
are  as liberal towards me, as Heaven is sparing to me of those gifts
you so  much commend; wherefore pray desist, and in this company
select some  better subject to e xercise your wit and language
on.A
method of Courtship on fair  and honourable terms.Inamorato Lusippe. Inam.   I Shall ever account this, Madam,
the  happiest day I ever had in all the course of my life, which hath
given me  the honour and satisfaction of your acquaintance. Lusip.   Sir, if I knew ought in me worthy
your merit, I should readily imploy it in your service; but being
fully  sensible of my imperfections and weakness, I believe the
knowledg of me  wili yield you less happiness than you
imagine. Inam.  Madam, I wonder you should wrong so
much perfection. Lusip:   I wrong not any thing in my
possession, but it is your courtesie and rhetorick that would
willingly  excuse my defects, to make your own sufficiency to appear
so much the  more. Inam.  Pardon me, Madam, it is the charming
power of your virtues and merits, which  oblige me not only to honour
and serve you, but also to desire some part  and interest in  your
affections.  Lusip.  Sir, whatsoever a Maid with honour
may 

do, you may request of me; I should be as void of judgment as
detective  in beauty, did I not respect your quality, admire your
virtues, and with  you a happiness equal to your demerit. Inam.   Madam, I assure you, my affections
are  real, and I hope sincerity doth wait on your good wishes; but if
you will  extend your favour, I cannot but be the happiest of all
men. Lusip.  Sir, as I cannot perswade my self
you  will fix your affection on a person so little  deserving; so I
wish with all my heart your happy Stars may guide you to  a Match that
may  become your worth. Inam.   Do not entertain so palpable a
mistake: I have proposed to my self an unfeigned resolution to honour
and  serve you to my uttermost endeavour; and your refusal cannot
Lessen my  affection; suffer me then to bear the honourable title of
your  servant. Lusip.   Sir, I have absolutely render'd my
self up to the disposal of my dear Parents, consult them; if you
prevail  on their consent, you shall not doubt the conquest of my
affection. Inam.  You oblige me infinitely, and I must
thank you as heartily; I will not rest a minute till I know my
sentence  of life or death, which consists, in the refusal of my love,
or its  acceptance.An
impertinent and lying Travellers Discourse with his witty and Jocose
Mistress. Erraticus.   Constantia. Errat.  Madam,, your Seat is so
incomparable,  that I have not seen a better in all my Travels. Constant.   It seems then you are a
Traveller. Errat.   I am no less:  Did you never
travel,  Lady? Constant.   I hope, Sir, you do not take me
for a Lady-errant; however, Sir, I shall acknowledg I have travel'd
through the Universe, and yet was never out of my own Country. Errat.   Hey day! How can that be? Constant.   I pity your want of
apprehension;  why, Sir, this is no such notorious contradition, if
you consider that  the Cosmographers of these latter times have taught
us in their Books to  surround the world, and yet never stir a foot; I
have read of some  Countries. Errat.   And you may hear talk of many
wonderful passages; but pish, talk is but talk; give  me the man hath
measur'd those Countries you have heard talk of; and can  readily
recount  you the names of all the petty Towns as well as Cities in a
whole  Kingdom. Constant.   You have seen many Cities
abroad,  I pray what think you of London? Errat.   London!  Ha, ha, ha, like a
Cock-boat  to the Royal-Soveraign, comparatively to Cities I have
seen. Constant.   I pray name one, Sir. Errat.   Why, Madam, I took shipping in the
Downs, and had no sooner arrived to the  height of the Cape of
Good-hope, but passing by the Gaimanians,  Hungarians and Sclavonians,
I came to Vienna, a pretty village, and for scituation much  like
Hamsted, its  distance is about seven leagues from Civil, from whence
we are stor'd  with Oranges. Constant.  Sir, I have read that Vienna is
in  Germany, and Civil in Spain. Errat.  Pish, what care I for reading;
however  as you say, I cannot but acknowledg the  people in Spain are
as much or more Civil than any other; but is Civil be  not in Germany,
then I was neither in Civil nor Vienna in my life; I have been in
Paris  too, and do know the  founder thereof. Constant.  Pray, Sir, inform my curiousity
with the name of the Founder. Errat.  His name was Parismus the son of
Palmerin of England, and hence the City was  called Paris ; some would
have it called Lutettia, because the women are  so well skill'd in  an
instrument called a Lute. Constant.   Good Sir, proceed; what
observations did you make whilst you were in that famous City? Errat.   In the first place there is a
famous  University called Pontneuse, whose Students ply  their busness
very notably; studying most part of the night, and are such  notable
disputants, they consute all that come that way after nine at
night.Here are excellent Comedians, the Women are 

the best, who act their parts notably, and  take great pains to do
things to the life.  In the Summer-time Foot-boys  and Lacguys do here
(warm as flyes in August; and the season is so sultry-hot, that the
fiery heat continues  with the people all the Winter following.Riding one day in the street, a dust arose so thick and great that
I  lost my way; that way I  rid, the wind drove the dust, and did not
leave me till I was within a  league of Naples, and  then I found
where I was. Constant.   What a loss had England
sustain'd  had you never been found! Errat.   Entring this City I found the
people  all clad in silk, too soft and effeminate for me to  converse
withal.  From hence I went to Florence, from whence we borrow  the art
of  making Custards, which are therefore called Florentines.  From
hence I  went to Florence,  from whence we borrow the art of making
Custards, which are therefore  called  Florentines.  From hence I went
to Milan, famous for Haberdashers, from  thence called in  London
Millaners.  Thence to Padua, hence come our Padding or Stroling
Doctors,  vulgarly called Mountebanks. Constant. You report wonders!  Go on,
Sir. Errat.  Of all the Champane Countries in
the  world, Venice for my money.  What lofty  Mountains and pleasant
Valleys!  What spacious Downs for the merry hunt!   Oh how I  have
made the Woods ring there with the Dukes dogs!  And now I talk of him,
I had never  left the place ahd it not been for the excessive love of
his chiel  Concubine towards me; who  being discovered stealing the
Piezzi to carry with her in her journey  with me for England,  was
secur'd, and I forc'd to fly for't. Constant.   Is't possible? Errat.  I took poste from thence to Genoa,
from thence to Madrid, and so to Leyden. Constant.   Excellent; and how were you
entertain'd by the Dutch? Errat.   We were drunk together every day;
but  I'le say this for them, the Devil's but a  Dunce to them, when
they are in their drink.  The last thing I heard  there, was a design
to  charm the Indies, and bring it to Amsterdam in Butter-Firkins.
Had I  staid longer in  Holland I should have dyed on a surseit of
Bore; but I wash it down with  a Fox at  Flushing; here I met with a
bucksome Froe, with whom I went to  Middleburgh, and left  her as
drunk as a Bitch at Rotterdam, and so taking shipping, from thence  I
landed at  Trigstairs. Constant.   Well, Sir, I see the difference
between you and truth is so great, that there cannot be expected a
reconcilement; wherefore I shall leave you.A
Gentleman accidentally hapning into a room where a Company of Ladies
were well known to him.  Gent.   Your pardon, Ladies; let not my
coming  interrupt your Discourse, but rather give me the freedom that
I may  participate in the satisfaction. Ladies.   Our discourse is of no great
concernment; we can take some other time to continue it, that we may
now  give way to yours, which we doubt not will prove every whit, if
not more  agreeable. Gent.   My invention, Ladies, cannot want a
subject for Discourse; where the company so overflows with wit and
ingenuity; but my tongue will want expressions to answer your Critical
expectations. Ladies.   Sir, we acknowledg no such thing
in  our selves and therefore let not that we pray be the subject of
your  eloquence, left we suspect you intend to laugh at us. Gent.   Ladies, you must suffer me not
withstanding at this, that though moesty interdicts you the
acknowledging  a truth, yet the respect I bear to Ladies, commands me
not only to  acknowledg it, but also to divulge and maintain
it. Ladies.  We confess, Sir, the frailty and
weakneww of our Sex requires some support; and for my own part, I
cannot  look upon any person so worthy as your self to be our
Champion. Gent.  What power I have to vindicate your
person, is derivative from your virtues; and were I so feeble, that
the  supporters of my body were no longer able to support that
burthen; yet  one propitious glance of any of your eyes would dart
heat and vigor  through my whole body and so my feet would be enabled
to run in your  service. Ladies.  Have a care, Sir, you do not
strain  your invention above the reach of any Hyperhole; but lore your
fancy to  the meanness of our capacity; if you cannot perform it at
present, we  will give you time.Gent.  Ladies, I am fearful my company may
be troublesome, or interrupt you from more agreeable conversation,
wherefore your Servant, Ladies. F I N I S. An
Advertisement. Concerning Doctor Sermon's most Famous, Safe,
Cathartique and  Diuratique Pills:   Proved for many years to be the
only and most incomparable Medicine in  all Chronical  Diseases;
wherewith was Cured his Grace the late Lord general Monick of  the
Dropsie in  June and July 1669.  Many hundreds before and since having
received  absolute Cure  thereby.They are also the most certain Purgative Pills in the World against
that commong and  pernicious Distemper the Scurvy, with all other
Sharp, Salt, and watry  Humours.  They  help the Kings Evil, and cause
all manner of filthy Ulcers, Canters, and  Spreading Sores   (from
what Cause soever) the sooner to become whole.They purifie and sweeten the Blood to admiration; and are never
failing to prevent and  perfectly Cure the aforesaid 

Distempers, if made use of in time.  Which is well known to  many
Noble and Honourable Persons throughout the whole Kingdom, and to
those of the  same Faculty too, though they maliciously (for interest
sake) rail  against them, to the great  prejudice of many that cannot
be cured without them.Which Pills are to be had at the Authors House in
Eastharding-street,  between Fetter-lane  and Shoo-lane, and at Edward
Thomas his Shop at the Adam and Eve in  Little-Brittain, a Bookseller;
and at all other places mentioned in the Book delivered with  each
Box; the  Numbers and Prices being as followeth:The least Box containing 20 Pills, sold for 4 s.The middle Box containing 40 Pills, sold for 8 s.The large Box containing 60 Pills, sold for 12 s.Books Printed for, and sold by Edward Thomas
Bookseller, at the Adam and Eve in Little-Brittain.  In FolioALL the several Seermons and other Traciates wwhich the Right
Reverand  Father in God  Lancelot Andrews, late Lord Bishop of
Winchester, left Perfect and Fit to  be Published, in  Large Folio.
Price 20 s.An exact Chronological Vindication, and Historial Demonstration of
the  British, Roman,  Saxon, Danish, Norman, English Kings Supream
Ecclesiassical Jurisdiction,  in, over all  Spiritual or Religious
Affaris, Causes, Persons, as well as Temporal,  within their Realms of
England, Scotland, Ireland, and other Dominions.  From the Original
Planting,  Embracing of Christian Religion therein, and Reign of
Lucius our First  Christian King,  etc.  By william Prynne Esp; late
Bencher and Reader of Lincolns-Inn.  The  whole Work  being Three
Large Tomes in Folio.  Price 4 l. 10 s.The History of King John, King Henry, the Third, and the most
Illustrious King Edward  the First, in Large Folio.  Price 20 s.  By
the same Author.The Breviate of the Life of Dr. William Land, late Lord Arch-Bishop
of  Canterbury; with  Hidden works of darness brought to publick
light, c. in Folio.  By the  same Author.  Price  20 s.Dr. Martin Luther his Colloquia Mensalia, or Table-Dsicourses, etc.
Which in his Life- time he held with divers Learned men; (such as were
Philip Melanshon,  Casprus Cruciger,  Justus Jonas, Panths Eberus,
Vitus Dietericus, Johannes Bugenhogca, _____  _____ and  others) etc.
Translted out of the High German into the English Tongue.   By
Capt. Henry  Bell, in Large Folio.  Price 2 s.Mr. Paul Bayner his Commentary on the Epistle of St. Paul to the
Ephesians, in Folio.   Bound Price 10 s.More Clausam, or the Right and Dominions of the Sea, in Two Books:
In  the first, the Sea  is proved by the Law of Nature and Nations not
to be Common to all men,  but to be a  Susceptible of Private Cominion
and Propriety as well as the Land.  In  the Second, it is  asserted,
That the most Serene King of Great Britain is the Lord and  Proprietor
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perpetual Appendix  of the  Brittish Empire.  By Jopn Selden Esp. in
Foilio.  Price 12 s.The Mariners Magazine, or Stiermys Mathematical and Practical Arts;
containing the  Description making use of the most useful Instruments
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Stars.  By Nath. Sporke in 40 to.  Price 4 s.Canaan's Calamity, or the Destruction of Jerusalem, in 4 to.  Price
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Duties, viz. R.  Houshold Careensing.  

2.  Family Prayer.  3.   Repeating of Sermons. 4.  Singing of Psalms.
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divers Questions (relating to these Times) discussed, and the  Truth
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themselves during the whole time of their  Breeding  Children, and of
their difficult Labour, hard Travail, and Lying-in Oc:   Together with
the  Distases 

they are subject to, (especially in such times) and the several ways
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absolute way of Cure.  Whereunto is added, a true Relation of some  of
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