Never admit common faces into your domestick seraglio, ’tis a scandal to your family, a dishonour to your function, and will certainly spoil your trade; but ply close at inns upon the coming in of waggons, and gee-ho-coaches, and there you may hire fresh country wenches, sound, plump, and juicy, and truly qualified for your business. Whatever you do, never trust any of your tits into an inn of court, or inn of chancery, for if you do they will certainly harass her about from chamber to chamber, till they have rid her off her legs; elevate her by degrees, from the ground-floor to their garrets, and make her drudge like a landress, thro’ a whole stair-case; and after a good weeks work, send her home with foul linnen, torn heed-geer, rumbled scarf, apparel spew’d upon, without fan, with but one glove, no money, and perhaps a hot tail into the bargain. This advice for the present, if put in practice, I hope will prove of use to you; I must tell you, there is nothing to be done in the world you live in, without cunning; religion itself, without policy, is too simple to be safe; therefore, if you do but take care for the future and deal by the world, as a woman of your station ought to do, and play your cards like a gamestress, I don’t at all question, but the mystery of bawding, by your good management, may be rais’d again, in spite of reformation, to its pristine eminency; which are the hearty wishes of, _Your Defunct Friend_, CRESWELL. MOLL QUARLES_’s_ Answer to Mother CRESWELL of Famous Memory. _Loving Sister_, _Your compassionate letter, has so won my affections to your pious memory, that it shall be always my endeavour to pursue your kind instructions, and to make myself the happy imitatrix of your glorious example, having often, with great satisfaction, heard of your fame; which as long as there is a young libertine, or an honest old whoremaster living upon earth, can never be obliterated. Were I to give you an account of the severe usage, and many persecutions I have been under of late days, since the mercenary reformation of ill-manners has been put on foot, it would soften the most obdurate wretches within your infernal precincts, and make them squeeze me out a tear of pity, tho’ your unextinguishable fire had so dry’d their souls, that their immortalities were crusted into perfect cinder._