_Down with all such, let them no longer stand, Base_ Caterpillars _that consum’d the_ Land, _Who rent the Common-prayer-book and Lawn-sleeves, And made the_ house of God a den of Theeves, _And may the Sacred Pulpit e’re be free, From such_ Quack-salvers _in_ Divinity. Every one knowing how great a Changling this fellow was in Religion, no body believed a word that he said; nor would either trust or imploy him upon any account whatsoever; so that he was necessitated to take this course, or do worse, by adding one more to the number of _Barbadoes_ Inhabitants; neither did he want a Volunteer abroad, upon the same design, a lusty young sprightly fellow, a Man both of wit and courage, though of slender Fortunes, and calls himself, _A Souldier of Fortune_. He was well born, and gentilely educated, who lived in a pamper’d condition till the age of seventeen; at which time his Father dying, the Estate fell to the Elder Brother, who mounting into his Fathers (yet warm) seat, could not conceal his _Turkish_ cruel disposition against his Brethren; yet though the Law held his hands from cutting off their Heads, his austere countenance, and severe carriage towards them, did notwithstanding cut off their hopes from ever expecting more than barely what their Father left them in Money. Two hundred Pounds was this Gentlemans Portion, who returning it to _London_, soon followed after, where equipping himself suitable to the _Grandeur_ of the Place, and Gallantry of the Persons he came acquainted with; he spent his time in things so agreeable to his constitution, that his thoughts never climb’d any other Heaven, than this his imaginary one, which he wisht might ever continue. He scattered his Money apace, and how could he otherwise; for his Exchange was a Tavern, his Lodging a Brothel; his _Hide-park_, a Gaming Ordinary, his Study, a Play-house; his Associates, Bully Ruffins; his Mistresses, Courtezana’s; had his constant attendants, Pimps, Parasites, Spongers, Wheedlers, and such like. The Devil’s in them all, if one was not enough to impoverish a Mint, or drain a Silver-mine, though it reacht to the Centre of the Earth. * * * * * By this you may imagine his two hundred Pounds could not last long; his Hangers on perceiving his Money was at the last gasp, fell off, being loath to see so dear a friend depart. He was now left Moneyless, and Friendless, and, what came nearest his heart, he was jeared, and flouted by such he had formerly liberally expended on. As he past the streets, he hath heard his old Comrades say one to the other: _There goes such a one, shall we call him, and drink a Glass of Wine together? No, no, let him go, pox on him: he hath not a Penny in his Pocket to bless himself withall; he had Money once, but like a Fool, he could not keep it_; which made him often repeat this true saying of the Poet;