Citt and Bumpkin (1680)

In Short

Set against the backdrop of the 1680 "Popish Plot" hysteria, this dialogue captures the collision between a street-smart London political operative and his naive country counterpart. Through their candid, ale-fueled discussion, the pair inadvertently reveals the fraudulent, manipulative methods used by radical factions to destabilize the government of Charles II. Because the text avoids dry abstraction in favor of gritty, colloquial realism, it serves as a vivid, enduring case study on the nature of political propaganda and the psychological theater of partisan conflict.

The Story

The narrative opens in a London tavern where Citt, an experienced political agent, meets Bumpkin, a man newly arrived from the countryside. Their exchange is immediate and transactional; they seek to understand why their recent campaign to force the King’s hand through mass petitioning has faltered. As the ale flows, the veneer of civic duty quickly evaporates. Citt explains that the "Committees" organizing these petitions were nothing more than clandestine clubs designed to sow dissent, collect intelligence, and manufacture the illusion of popular consensus. He boasts of using "short-hand" men to stalk public spaces, recording the words of anyone who dares speak against the conspirators' goals.

The conversation turns to the mechanics of deception. Citt reveals that their primary tactic for influencing the Common Council was the calculated spread of rumors. They fabricated reports of royal support for their petitions, knowing that a lie—if repeated loudly enough in coffee houses—would be accepted as truth before the authorities could issue a denial. Bumpkin, eager to learn, confesses that he and his fellow agitators in the country employed similar tricks to discredit their enemies. They speak openly of the "Act for Regulating Corporations," which they view as a devastating blow to their plans, as it forced their supporters to take oaths that effectively barred them from office.

As the dialogue deepens, the moral vacuum of their movement is laid bare. Citt describes the "high way to preferment" as a cycle of being arrested and martyred, claiming that a stint in jail can turn a penniless man into a person of influence. He scoffs at Bumpkin’s fear of the law, arguing that "self-preservation" justifies any lie or deceit, provided one is clever enough to avoid being caught. They discuss the concept of "Christian Liberty" not as a spiritual ideal, but as a strategic loophole that allows them to claim divine sanction while actively subverting the laws of the land.

The second half of the dialogue introduces a voice of reason, "True," who steps in to dismantle the pair’s rhetoric. He challenges their defense of petitioning, pointing out that while the act itself might be legitimate, the conspiratorial manner in which they wield it is a direct threat to the state. He systematically refutes their pamphlets and accusations, showing how they have twisted the truth to paint government officials as "Popish" traitors simply to seize their offices. The story concludes with a rigorous debate on the nature of sovereignty. True argues that power is an ordinance of providence, not a tool for the "loose multitude" to use against their monarch. He leaves the reader with a stark final question: whether it is better to endure a possible tyranny or to plunge the entire nation into the certain, chaotic ruin of anarchy.

How It Unfolds

The tavern meeting Citt and Bumpkin convene to analyze their failed petitioning campaign, moving quickly from casual greetings to the exposure of their clandestine "Clubs." They establish the groundwork of their conspiracy, detailing the use of spies and forged rumors to manipulate public opinion.

The confession of methods The duo details how they weaponized information and subverted local elections to secure their political goals. They candidly admit to using "conscience" as a flexible tool of statecraft, discarding principles whenever they conflict with the needs of the party.

The benefits of martyrdom Citt explains the cynical rewards of being imprisoned for the cause, reframing legal consequences as a lucrative path to social and financial status. They demonstrate how their brand of "Christian Liberty" provides a convenient shield for activities that would otherwise be classified as treason or robbery.

The intervention of truth The character True arrives to confront their logic, stripping away their religious and legal justifications. He systematically exposes their pamphlets as a "medly of rags" and challenges the underlying republican theory that sovereignty rests in the hands of the people.

The final argument The debate narrows to the existential choice between stable, albeit imperfect, governance and the chaos of rebellion. The dialogue ends with a stern warning about the cycle of violence that results from prioritizing political agendas over the rule of law.

The People

Citt is the architect of the pair’s cynicism, a man who views politics as a business of "expediency" where the end always justifies the means. He is sophisticated, manipulative, and entirely devoid of genuine conviction, treating his moral compass as an accessory he can toggle on or off depending on the audience. He views the state as an obstacle to be dismantled rather than a society to be served.

Bumpkin serves as the eager student and foil, providing the necessary prompts to draw out the details of their shared corruption. While less experienced than his mentor, he is just as unscrupulous. He is driven by a mix of greed and a desperate desire to belong to a "powerful" group that validates his own petty resentments. His transformation is not one of character growth, but of professional refinement; he begins as an amateur agitator and ends as a fully indoctrinated agent of chaos.

True acts as the voice of the author, functioning as the sharp, logical razor that cuts through the pair’s rationalizations. He is the personification of the Tory defense of the status quo, armed with facts, legal precedents, and a deep-seated suspicion of mass movements. He does not seek to convert Citt and Bumpkin—whom he views as beyond saving—but rather to expose their "hellish" logic to the reader, effectively deconstructing the threat they represent to the stability of the kingdom.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the cynical way they manipulate the public’s perception of "Popery":

"It is not the Destruction of those that are Really Papists, that will do our Work; for there's nothing to be got by't. But it must be our business to make those people pass for Papists, that are not so, but only have Places to Lose."

Regarding the ease with which they adopt a pious persona to deceive others:

"Ye shall Know a Sanctifi'd Sister, or a Gifted Brother more by the Meene, Countenance, and Tone, then by the Tenour of their Lives, and Manners."

Regarding the terrifying cycle of civil disorder the agitators invite:

"In fine, the Question is this, whether people had better run Certainly into Confusion to avoid a Possible Tyranny, or venture a Possible Tyranny, to avoid a Certain Confusion."

What It's Really About

The text is a profound examination of the fragility of truth in an era of intense political polarization. It interrogates the dangerous intersection where private greed disguises itself as public virtue, and where the language of "liberty" is used to dismantle the very institutions that protect it. The central question is one of stability: how much disruption should a society tolerate before the pursuit of an ideal leads to the destruction of the common good? It suggests that when a political faction abandons objective reality in favor of self-serving narratives, the result is not progress, but an eternal, destructive circle of suspicion and anarchy that leaves the state vulnerable to collapse.

Why Read It Today

Reading this dialogue feels like stepping into a cold, clear-eyed examination of the modern "spin" doctor. For anyone interested in the history of propaganda, it is a masterclass in how narratives are built from the ground up—how rumors are planted in coffee houses, how "experts" are discredited, and how the appearance of sincerity is manufactured to mask deep corruption. You will recognize the techniques instantly; the "us vs. them" rhetoric, the performative piety, and the deliberate confusion of definitions are as relevant now as they were in 1680.

The book is not without its hurdles. The 17th-century prose is dense with period-specific slang and references to events that have long since faded from common knowledge. The dialogue is also unapologetically biased, written with the specific intent of shoring up royal authority against the Whig opposition. However, the reward for navigating these challenges is a rare, unvarnished look at the internal monologue of a political operative. It stays with you because it refuses to treat the "common folk" or the "city agitator" as simple archetypes. Instead, it captures a human tendency to trade morality for a sense of belonging to a cause. It is a cynical, bracing, and deeply insightful read for anyone who has ever wondered how a nation can be convinced to turn against itself.