Our English is so stor'd with plenty of Monosyllables (which, like small stones, fill up the chinks) that it hath great priviledge over divers of its neighbours, and in some particulars (with reverence be it spoken) above the very Latin, which Language we find overcharg'd with the letter (S) especially in (bus) and such hissing Terminations. But our new Criticks lodge not the fault in our words only; 'tis the Artist they tax as a man unspirited for forraign delights: which vanity so spreads, that those our productions they please to like must be born beyond the Alpes, and father'd upon Strangers. And this is so notorious, that not long since some young Gentlemen, who were not untravell'd, hearing some Songs I had set to Italian words (publickly sung by excellent voyces) concluded those songs were begotten in Italy, and said (too loud) "they would faine heare such songs to be made by an Englishman." Had they layd their sceane a little nearer home, there had been more colour; for, a short Ayre of mine (neare 20 years old) was lately reviv'd in our neighbour Nation, and publickly sung to words of their own as a new borne piece, without alteration of any one Note: Tis the Ayre to those words, "Old Poets Hippocrene admire etc." a sorry trifle (a man would think) to be rais'd from the dead after 18 years burial. But (to meet with this humour of lusting after Novelties) a friend of mine told some of that company, that a rare new Book was come from Italy, which taught the reason why an Eighth was the {81} sweetest of all notes in Musick; because (said he) Jubal who was Founder of Musick was the eighth man from Adam; and this went down as current as my songs came from Italy. I beg your pardon for instancing such particulars. But there are knowing persons, who have been long bred in those worthily admired parts of Europe, who ascribe more to us than we to ourselves; and able Musicians returning from Travaill doe wonder to see us so thirsty after Forraigners. For they can tell us (if we knew it not) that Musick is the same in England as in Italy; the Concords and Discords, the Passions, Spirits, Majesty and Humours, are all the same they are in England; their manner of composing is sufficiently known to us, their best Compositions being brought over hither by those who are able enough to choose. But we must not here expect to find Music at the highest, when all Arts and Sciences are at so low an ebbe. As for myself, although I have lost my Fortunes with my Master (of ever blessed Memory) I am not so low to bow for a subsistence to the follies of this Age; and to humour such as wil seem to understand our Art, better than we that have spent our lives in it.