The Holy State, Book 5 · Chapter 14
CHAP. 14. The Degenerous Gentleman.
SOme will chalenge this title of incongruity, as if those two words were so dissonant, that a whole sentence cannot hold them; for sure where the Gentleman is the root, Degenerous cannot be the fruit. But if any quarrell with my words, Valerius Maximus shall be my champion, who styleth such, *Valer. Max. lib. 3 cap. 5.Nobilia Portenta. By Gentleman we understand one whom the Heralds (except they will deny their best Records) must allow of ancient parentage. Such a one, when a child, being kept the devils Nazarite, that no razor of correction must come upon his head in his fathers family, see what he proves in the processe of time, brought to extreme poverty. Herein we intend no invective glance on those pious Gentlemen, whose states are consumed through Gods secret judgement, and none of the owners visible default; onelyonly we meddle with such as by carelesnesse and riot cause their own ruine.
Maxime 1.He goes to school to learn in jest and play in earnest. Now this Gentleman, now that Gentlewoman begges him a playday, and now the book must be thrown away, that he may see the buck hunted. He comes to school late, departs soon, and the whole yeare with him (like the fortnight when Christmas day falls on a tuesday) is all Holidayes and half-Holidayes. And as the Poets feigne of Thetis, that she drench'd Achilles her sonne in the Stygian waters, that he might not be wounded with any weapon; so cockering mothers inchant their sonnes to make them rod-free, which they do by making some golden circles in the hand of the Schoolmaster: thus these two conjoyning together make the indentures to bind the youth to eternall ignorance; yet perchance he may get some almes of learning, here a snap, there a piece of knowledge, but nothing to purpose.
His fathers Servingmen (which he counts no mean preferment) admit him into their society. 2Going to a drinking match they carry him with them to enter him, and applaud his hopefulnesse, finding him vicious beyond his age. The Butler makes him free (having first pai'd his fees accustomed) of his own fathers cellar, and guesseth the profoundnesse of his young masters capacity by the depth of the whole-ones he fetcheth off.
Coming to the University, 3his chief study is to study nothing. What is Learning but a cloakbag of books, cumbersome for a Gentleman to carry? and the Muses fit to make wives for Farmers sonnes: perchance his own Tutour, for the promise of the next living (which notwithstanding his promise he afterwards sells to another) contributes to his undoing, letting him live as he list: yea, perhaps his own mother (whilest his father diets him for his health with a moderate allowance) makes him surfet underhand by sending him money. Thus whilest some complain that the University infected him, he infected the Universitie, from which he suck'd no milk but poysoned her nipples.
At the Innes of Court under pretence to learn Law, 4he learns to be lawlesse; not knowing by his study so much as what an Execution means, till he learns it by his own dear experience. Here he grows acquainted with the Roaring Boyes, I am afraid so called by a wofull Prolepsis, Here, for Hereafter. What formerly was counted the chief credit of an Oratour, these esteem the honour of a Swearer, Pronunciation, to mouth an oath with a gracelesse grace. These (as David saith) cloath themselves with curses as with a garment, and therefore desire to be in the latest fashion both in their cloaths and curses: These infuse all their skill into their young novice, who shortly proves such a proficient, that he exceeds his Masters in all kinds of vicious courses.
5Through the mediation of a Scrivener he grows acquainted with some great Usurer. Nor is this youngster so ravenous, as the other is ready to feed him with money, sometimes with a courteous violence forcing on him more then he desires, provided the security be good, except the Usurer be so valiant as to hazard the losing of a small hook to catch a great fish, and will adventure to trust him, if his estate in hope be overmeasure, though he himself be under age. Now the greater part of the money he takes up is not for his own spending, but to pay the shot of other mens riot.
6After his fathers death he flies out more then ever before. Formerly he took care for means for his spending, now he takes care for spending for his means. His wealth is so deep a gulf, no riot can ever sound the bottome of it. To make his guests drunk is the onelyonly seal of their welcome. His very meanest servant may be master of the cellar, and those who deserve no beere may command the best wine: such dancing by day, such masking by night, such roaring, such revelling, able to awake the sleeping ashes of his Great-great-grandfather, and to fright all blessing from his house.
7Mean time the old soare of his London-debts corrupts and festers. He is carelesse to take out the dead flesh, or to discharge either principall or interest. Such small leaks are not worth the stopping or searching for till they be greater; he should undervalue himself to pay a summe before it grew considerable for a man of his estate. Nor can he be more carelesse to pay, then the Usurer is willing to continue the debt, knowing that his bands, like infants, battle best with sleeping.
Vacation is his vocation, 8and he scorns to follow any profession; and will not be confin'd to any laudable employment. But they who count a calling a prison, shall at last make a prison their calling. He instills also his lazie principles into his children, being of the same opinion with the Neapolitane Gentry, who stand so on the *Sr William Segar in his Honours milit. and civill.puntoes of their honour, that they preferre robbery before industry, and will rather suffer their daughter to make merchandise of her chastity, then marry the richest merchant.
Drinking is one of the principall Liberall Sciences he professeth. 9A most ungentile quality, fit to be banished to rogues and rags. It was anciently counted a Dutch vice, and swarmed most in that countrey. I remember a sad accident which hapned to Fliolmus King of Gothland, who whilest a Lord of misrule ruled in his Court, and both he and his servants were drunk, in mere merriment, meaning no harm, they took the King and put him in *Olaus m…g. Hist. septent. p. 531.jest into a great vessel of beere, and drowned him in earnest. But *Versteg. restitut. of de…aid intellig. p. 53.one tells us that this ancient and habited vice is amongst the Dutch of late years much decreased: which if it be not, would it were. Sure our Mariners observe that as the sea grows dayly shallower and shallower on the shoars of Holland and Zeland, so the channell of late waxeth deeper on the coasts of Kent and Essex. I pray God if drunkennesse ebbes in Dutchland, it doth not flow in England, and gain not in the Iland what it loseth in the Continent. Yea some plead, when overwhelm'd with liquour, that their thirst is but quenched: as well may they say, that in Noahs floud the dust was but sufficiently allayed.
10Gaming is another art he studies much: an enticing witch, that hath caused the ruine of many. *Liv. lib. 27.Hanniball said of Marcellus, that nec bonam nec malam fortunam ferre potest, he could be quiet neither conquerour nor conquered; thus such is the itch of play, that Gamesters neither winning nor losing can rest contented. One propounded this question, Whether men in ships on sea were to be accounted among the living or the dead, because there were but few inches betwixt them and drowning. The same scruple may be made of great Gamesters, though their estates be never so great, whether they are to be esteemed poore or rich, there being but a few casts at dice betwixt a Gentleman (in great game) and a begger. Our Gallant games deeply, and makes no doubt in conscience to adventure Advousands, Patronages, and Church-livings in gaming. He might call to mind Sr Miles Pateridge, who (as the Souldiers cast lots for Christ his coat) plaid at dice for *These were foure bells the greatest in London hanging in a fair Tower in Pauls Churchyard, Stowes Survey of London, pag. 357.Jesus bells with King Henry the eighth, & wonne them of him. Thus he brought the bells to ring in his pocket, but the ropes afterwards catch'd about his neck, and for some offenses he was hang'd in the dayes of King Edward the sixth.
11Then first he sells the outworks of his state, some stragling mannour. Nor is he sensible of this sale, which makes his means more entire, as counting the gathering of such scattering rents rather burdensome then profitable. This he sells at half the value, so that the feathers will buy the goose, and the wood will pay for the ground: with this money if he stops the hole to one Creditour, by his prodigality he presently opens a wider gappe to another.
12By this time the long dormant Usurer ramps for the payment of his money. The Principall, the grandmother, and the Use, the daughter, and the Use upon use, the grandchild, and perchance a generation farther, hath swell'd the debt to an incredible summe, for the satisfying whereof our Gallant sells the moity of his estate.
Having sold half his land he abates nothing of his expenses:13 but thinks five hundred pounds a yeare will be enough to maintain that for which a thousand pound was too little. He will not stoop till he falls, nor lessen his kennell of dogs, till with Acteon he be eaten up with his own hounds.
Being about to sink he catcheth at every rush to save himself. 14Perchance sometimes he snatcheth at the thistle of a project, which first pricks his hands, and then breaks. Herein it may be he adventured on a matter wherein he had no skill himself (hoping by letting the Commonwealth bloud to fill up his own veins again) and therefore trades with his partners brains, as his partner with his purse, till both miscarry together: or else it may be he catcheth hold on the heel of another man, who is in as dangerous a case as himself, and they embracing each other in mutuall bands hasten their drowning together. His last mannour he sells twice, to a countrey-Gentleman, and a London-usurer, though the last, as having the first title, prevails to possesse it: Usurers herein being like unto Foxes; they seldome take pains to digge any holes themselves, but earth in that which the foolish Badger made for them, and dwell in the mannours and fair houses which others have built and provided.
Having lost his own legs, he relyes on the staff of his kinred; 15first visiting them as an intermitting ague, but afterwards turns a quotidian, wearing their thresholds as bare as his own coat. At last he is as welcome as a storm; he that is abroad shelters himself from it, and he that is at home shuts the doore. If he intrudes himself, yet some with their jeering tongues give him many a gird, but his brazen impudence feels nothing; and let him be arm'd on free-cost with the pot and the pipe, he will give them leave to shoot their flouts at him till they be weary. Sometimes he sadly paceth over the ground he sold, and is on fire with anger with himself for his folly, but presently quencheth it at the next alehouse.
16Having undone himself, he sets up the trade to undoe others. If he can but scrue himself into the acquaintance of a rich heir, he rejoyceth as much at the prize as the Hollanders when they had intercepted the Plate-Fleet. He tutours this young Gamester in vice, leading him a more compendious way to his ruine then possibly he could find out of himself. And doth not the guide deserve good wages for his direction?
17Perhaps he behaves himself so basely that he is degraded; the sad and solemn Ceremonies whereof we may meet with in old Presidents: but of them all, in my apprehension, none should make deeper impression in an ingenuous soul then this one, That at the solemn degradation of a Knight for high misdemeanour, the *Markams Decads of Honour, pag. 76.King and twelve Knights more did put on mourning garments, as an embleme of sorrow for this injury to honour, that a man Gentile by birth and bloud, or honoured by a Princes favour, should so farre forget not onelyonly himself but his Order, as to deserve so severe punishment.
18His death is as miserable, as his life hath been vicious. An Hospitall is the height he hopes to be advanced to: But commonly he dies not in so charitable a prison, but sings his last note in a cage. Nor is it impossible, but that wanting land of his own he may incroch on the Kings high-way, and there, taking himself to be Lord of the soyl, seise on Travellers as Strayes due unto him, and so the hangman give him a wreath more then he had in his Armes before. If he dyes at liberty in his pilgrimage betwixt the houses of his acquaintance, perhaps some well-disposed Gentleman may pay for his buriall, and truly mourn at the funerall of an ancient Family. His children, if any, must seek their fortunes the farther off, because their father found his too soon, before he had wisdome to manage them. Within two generations his name is quite forgotten that ever any such was in the place, except some Herald in his visitation passe by, and chance to spell his broken Arms in a Church-window. And then how weak a thing is Gentry, then which (if it wants virtue) brittle glasse is the more lasting monument?
We forbear to give an instance of a degenerous Gentleman; would to God the world gave no examples of them. If any please to look into the forenamed *Loco priùs citato.Valerius Maximus, he shall there find the base son of Scipio Africanus, the conquerour of Hanniball and Africk, so ill imitating his father, that for his viciousnes he received many disgracefull repulses from the people of Rome, the fragrant smell of his Fathers memory making him to stink the more in their nostrils; yea they forced him to pluck off from his finger a signet-ring, whereon the face of his Father was engraven, as counting him unworthy to wear his picture who would not resemble his virtue.