Having given you this description of him, I need not trouble myself to enlarge upon the dress of his two companions, who, tho’ they fell much short of his inimitable original in point of garniture and dress, yet they were singular enough to have drawn the eyes of men, women and children after ’em in any part of _Europe_. As I observed this sight with a great deal of admiration, Mr. _Nokes_ very gravely asked me, who I took the middlemost person to be; upon my telling him I had never seen him before, nor knew a syllable of him or his private history; why, says Mr. _Nokes_, this is _Diogenes_ the famous cynic philosopher, and his two companions are _George Fox_ and _James Naylor_ the quakers. _Diogenes_, reply’d I to him, why he was one of the arrantest slovens in all _Greece_, and a profess’d enemy to laundresses, for he never parted with his shirt, ’till his shirt parted with him. No matter for that, says Mr. _Nokes_, the case is alter’d now with him, for he has the vanity and affectation of twenty Sir _Courtly Nice_’s blended together; he constantly dispatches a courier to _Lisbon_ every month, to bring him a cargo of _Limons_ to wash his hands with; he sends to _Montpelier_ for _Hungary_-water; _Turin_ furnishes him with _Rosa Solis_; _Nismes_ with _Eau de Conelle_, and _Paris_ with _Ratifia_ to settle his maw in the morning. Nothing will go down with him but _Ortolans_, _Snipes_, and _Woodcocks_; and _Matson_, that some years ago liv’d at the _Rummer_ in _Queen-street_, is the administrator of his kitchen. This, said I to him, is the most phantastick change I have seen since my passing the _Styx_: for who the plague wou’d have believ’d that that antient quaker _Diogenes_, and those modern cynicks, _Fox_ and _Naylor_, should degenerate so much from their primitive institution, as to set up for fops? When we came up to ’em, _Diogenes_ gave us a most gracious bow, but those two everlasting complimenters, his friends, I was afraid wou’d have murder’d me with their civilities; for which reason I disingaged myself from ’em something abruptly, by the same token I overheard _James Naylor_ call me _bougre insulare_ and _tramontane_, for my ill manners. When the coast was clear of ’em, says I to my _Nokes_, every thing is so turned topsy-turvy here with you, that I can hardly resolve myself whether I walk upon my head or my feet: right, Mr. _Haines_, says he, but time is precious; so let’s mend our pace if you please, that we may see all the curiosities of this renowned city before ’tis dark.