ot to mention several batter'd Beaus, who, like heedless
Spendthrifts that squander away their Estates before they are Masters of
them, have raised up their whole Stock of Children before Marriage.

I must not here omit the particular Whim of an Impudent Libertine, that
had a little Smattering of Heraldry; and observing how the Genealogies
of great Families were often drawn up in the Shape of Trees, had taken a
Fancy to dispose of his own illegitimate Issue in a Figure of the same
kind.

--Nec longum tempus et ingens
Exiit ad coelum ramis felicibus arbos,
Miraturque novas frondes, et non sua poma.

Virg. [2]

The Trunk of the Tree was mark'd with his own Name, Will Maple. Out of
the Side of it grew a large barren Branch, Inscribed Mary Maple, the
Name of his unhappy Wife. The Head was adorned with five huge Boughs. On
the Bottom of the first was written in Capital Characters Kate Cole,
who branched out into three Sprigs, viz. William, Richard, and
Rebecca. Sal Twiford gave Birth to another Bough, that shot up into
Sarah, Tom, Will, and Frank. The third Arm of the Tree had only a
single Infant in it, with a Space left for a second, the Parent from
whom it sprung being near her Time when the Author took this Ingenious
Device into his Head. The two other great Boughs were very plentifully
loaden with Fruit of the same kind; besides which there were many
Ornamental Branches that did not bear. In short, a more flourishing Tree
never came out of the Heralds Office.

What makes this Generation of Vermin so very prolifick, is the
indefatigable Diligence with which they apply themselves to their
Business. A Man does not undergo more Watchings and Fatigues in a
Campaign, than in the Course of a vicious Amour. As it is said of some
Men, that they make their Business their Pleasure, these Sons of
Darkness may be said to make their Pleasure their Business. They might
conquer their corrupt Inclinations with half the Pains they are at in
gratifying them.

Nor is the Invention of these Men less to be admired than their Industry
or Vigilance. There is a Fragment of Apollodorus the Comick Poet (who
was Contemporary with Menander) which is full of Humour as follows:
Thou mayest shut up thy Doors, says he, with Bars and Bolts: It will be
impossible for the Blacksmith to make them so fast, but a Cat and a
Whoremaster will find a Way through them. In a word, there is no Head
so full of Stratagems as that of a Libidinous Ma