Fourthly, The last prevailing evil which I see, all men may hear, but none strive to help,[144] the banishment of that noble holy-day called the Sabbath, which has been blasted by a whirl-wind from the south; I am yet alive who saw this hurricane coming thro’ the walled city[145] near Solway in the South; it being on a Sunday, and a beautiful sun-shine day amangst some foul weeks in harvest-weather, which caused the Lord Mayor of the place to work hard, and put in the whole fields of wheat harvest, and the priests of that church commended him therefore: Because the season was backward, why should not man be disobedient! And this infection is come here also, surely the loss of this Sabbath-day will be counted a black Saturday to some; when I walk in the fields, I know it not but by the stopping of the plow, when in the city, only by the clossness of a few shop-doors and the sound of the bells; degenerate ideas of religion indeed! when the high praise is sounded only by bell-metal, A sounding Brass and a tinkling Cymbal: Is it not come to pass, the taverns roar like Ætna’s mouth; children follow their gaming, and old sinners their stroling about, nothing stopt but coal-carts and common carriers, the Sabbath lasts no longer than the sermon, and the sermon is measured by a little sand in a glass; many, too many frequent the church, seemingly only to show their antic dress, with heads of a monstruous form, more surprizing than those described by Aristotle, as for length exceeding that of an asses’s head, ears and all; and ah! How humbling would it be, to see their heads struck into such a hideous form, &c.
They disdain now to ride on pads as of old, or to be hobled on a horse’s hurdies, but must be hurled behind the tail, safely seated in a leather conveniency, and there they fly swiftly as in the chariot of Aminadab.[146]
They will not speak the mother language[147] of their native country, but must have southern oaths, refined like raw-sugar thro’ the mills of cursing, finely polished, and fairly struck in the profane mint of London, into a perfect form of flunky-language; even the very wild Arabs from the mountain-tops, who have not yet got English to profane his Maker’s name, will cry, Cot, Cot; hateful it is to hear them swear, who cannot speak. O! strange alteration since the days of old![148] the downful of Popery, and the Prelates’ decay, when reformation was alive, and religion in taste and fashion; the people during the sabbath, were all packed up in closets, and their children kept within doors, when every city appeared like a sanctuary, nothing to be heard on the streets, but the sound of prayer on the right-hand, and the melodious sound of psalms on the left.
Now is the days of counting, scribing, riding of horses, and the sound of the post-horn come; surely there will be trade now; and none will miss prosperity when every day is a fair; I add no more on this head, but every one claim a right to his own set time, &c.
Another grievance of the female offenders I cannot omit, which attacks a man’s fancy, and is the cause of his fall;[149] I mean Flighters who has gotten a little of the means of Mammon, more silver than sense, more gold than good nature, haughtiness for humility, value themselves as a treasure incomprehensible, their heads and hearts of Ophir-gold, their hips of silver, & their whole body as set about with precious stones, great and many are the congresses of their courtship, and the solemnizing of their marriage is like the conclusion of a peace after a bloody and tedious war.[150]
And what is she after all! yea, her poor penny will never be exhausted, it must be laid out in lunacy and laziness, she must have fine teas and the tuther thing: When pregnancy and the speuing of porich approaches, then she prophecies of her death; as she hatches life, she embraces laziness; then O the bed, the bed, nothing like the bed for a bad wife, her body becomes as par-boil’d,[151] being so bed-ridden, this rots their children in the brewing, and buries them in the bringing up; yea, some mothers are so beastly, as to water the bed and blame the child therefore; yet such lazy wives live long, and their children soon die; their far fetched feigned sickness, soon render the husband to the substance of one sixpence, he becomes poor and hen-peck’t under such petticoat government.
But when I Janet was a Janet, and had the judgement of my own house, my husband was thrice happy, I never held him down, he was above me day and night, I sat late and raise early, kept a fu’ house and rough back, when summer came we minded winter’s cauld, we had peace ay at porich-time, and harmony through the day; we supp’d our sowens at supper-time with a seasonable heat, and went to bed good bairns kent naething but stark love and kindness, we wrought for riches, and our ages and earthly stores increased alike, we hated pride and loved peace, he died with a good name; I let you ken I live, but not as many do, not so lordly of my brain as some are of their belly! and was not my life strange by that now practised? Come help yourselves you hillocat-livers and avoid it.
Now after a’, if a poor man want a perfect wife, let him wale a weel blooded hissie wi’ braid shouders an thick about the haunches, that has been lang servant in ae house, tho’ twice or thrice awa’ and ay fied back, that’s weel liked by the bairns and the bairns’ mither, that’s naeway cankard to the cats, nor kicks the colly-dogs amang her feet, that wad let a’ brute-beasts live, but rats, mice, lice, flaes, neets and bugs, that bites the wee bairns in their cradles, that carefully comb the young things’ heads, washes their faces, and claps their cheeks, snites the snotter frae their nose[152] as they were a’ her ain, that’s the lass that will mak a good wife; for them that dauts the young bairns, will ay be kind to auld fouk an they had them.
And ony hale-hearted halsome hissie, that wants to halter a good husband, never tak a widow’s ae son, for a’ the wifely gates in the warld will be in him, for want of a father to teach him manly actions; neither tak a sour looking sumf wi’ a muckle mouth, and a wide guts, who will eat like a horse and soss like a sow, suffer none to sup but himsel, eat your meat and the bairns baith; when hungry angry, when fu’ full of pride, ten sacks will not haud his sauce, tho’ a pea-shap wad haud his siller: But go, tak your chance, and if cheated, channer not on me, for fashionable fouk flee to fashionable things, for lust is brutish-blind, and fond love is blear-ey’d. I add no more, says Janet; so be it, said Humphray the Clerk.