A Discourse Apologetical

The Contents of the ensuing DISCOURS.

• LIlies Merlins mere Pasqils Page 1
• His whole Answer, as usuallie, a piece of mere scurrility 1, 6
• His former grounds of his Art given by him deserted. 2, 6
• Not a word of the good Angels that first taught it ibid.
• How uneqal a match for any ingenuous person to deal with a Railer 3
• By freqent railing, and being railed at, men grow shameless ib.
• In such bickerings no honor to overcome; to be overcome, no dishonor 3, 4
• Stargazers for money can tell that of trifles, which of weightier occurrence they cannot 4
• Jacob Behmens writings, of what stamp 4
• A Northern Lily prophesied of by him 5
• Lilies immodest and scurrilous language unworthy regard 5, 6
• To what purpose Mr. G. qotes Autors, Heathen, and others 6
• Some necessity imposed on him of answering some scandalous aspersions 7
• A good name, fo what worth, and how much to be regarded 7, 8
• Yet a good Conscience to be preferred before it 8, 9
• No good duty to be omitted for fear of disgrace 9
• A great grace to be disgraced for Christ ibid.
• Mark the Emperor, though a Stoic, how careful to clear himself from calumnies 9, 12
• From the imputation of Avarice, especially 10
• What care and caution Ministers ought to have in this kind • 0
• The word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 how taken, 1 Tim. 3. 6, 7. Eph. 4. 27. 10
• A common liars word, no slander 11
• Infamous persons defamation, no infamy 11
• Reproaches of such rather matter of praise, their praises of dispraise Page 11
• The falsest reports, though never so well cleared, leave some sear oft behind. 11
• Most folk suspicious, and prone to suspect the worst ibid.
• Mr. G • . resolution to undertake this Apology 12
• Lilies former slanderous Charge 12
• An ill presage to begin ill, with a gross untruth, especially 12, 13
• So begins Li • ie, that Mr. G. was sometime a stiff Prelate 13 14, 23
• And that then he preached impudent • ie for Sabbath-sports 13, 15, 19, 23
• Of the three Names given the Day, which most proper 14, 15
• Mr. Gs. constant cours of preaching for, and pressing the due observation of the Lord's day 15, 19, 22, 23
• The Lord's Day no Day for complemental Visitations 15
• Nor for entertainment of Clients 16
• Nor for riding Circuits, or hearing Causes 19
• The change of the Lecture-times at Lincoln-Inn, with the ground thereof 16
• The Lord's Day, God's Mart, or Market Day 18
• The Christian Sabbath 14 15
• King James his book for Sabbath-sports 20, 22
• That Mr. G. preached in defense of it, a notorious untruth 20, 21
• Mr. Gs. Treatise of Lots, and the subject matter thereof 21
• How far forth Cards or Dice are therein justified 21, 22
• No liberty therein for Sabbath-sports allowed, but expressly opposed 22, 23
• Another stander, that Mr. G. turned Presbyterian in hope of Bishops and Deans lands 12, 23, 24
• Mr. Gs. constant judgment both of Prelacie and Presbyterie 24, 25, 26
• Men moderatelie minded suffer usuallie from extremes on either side 26, 27
• The frivolous pretended ground of Mr. G • . re • ol • 27, 28
• Mr. Carpenters scurrilous Relation of the Presbyters birth, and base condition 28, 29
• His Historical untruth of its first birth 30
• Li •• us latter slanderous Charge against Mr. G. of covetousness Page 30
• Seed of all sin in all, but some more eminent then other 31, 32
• This of covetousness Mr. G. most disclaims 32
• Freqent shifting of charges deemed a note of Avarice or Ambition 32, 33
• Mr. Gs. settled Ministry in two Places only, for two and fifty year 33
• His entrance into his place at Lincolns-Inn 33, 34
• His entertainment and ten years continuance there 34, 35
• His Salarie, what it was there 35
• Places elsewhere refused, during his abode there 36, 38
• Ingenuous dispositions what they deem of the good they do 38, 39
• Their joy, when their kindness takes; grief, when it misseth 39 40
• Mr. Gs. waving the Degree of Doctor 41, 42.
• The general disposition of Mr. Gs. Auditory at Lincolns-Inn, not affecting novelty, or variety 43
• The occasion of his removal to Rederith 44, 46
• His chargeable entrance there 47
• His continuance there upward of two and forty year 47
• His means what for the first ten year 47 48, 49
• Tythe upon houses formerly paid how came t • thee intermitted 48, 49
• How it, or somewhat in lieu of it, recovered 49, 50
• The whole sum, with the Addition then agreed on, far short of what Lily saith he receivs 50
• As much expended one year with another, as the revenue of the place amounted unto 50, 51
• Means of enlargement elsewhere offered, and refused 51, 52
• His natural disposition of what frame and temper 52, 53
• Ambition and Avarice how far they prevail where they rule 53, 54.
• Everie one his own first and chiefest Flatterer 53
• The result of the premises concerning Mr. G. charged with either of these two Corruptions 54, 55
• Avarice deemed the peculiar vice of old age 55, 56
• Why compared to a root 55
• Why it, and pride to the spleen ibid.
• Why against reason for men to grow in old age more covetous 56
• Of M. Gs. willful silencing himself charged upon him by Lily, ib.
• His artendance at the Assemblie, and receipts there, p. 56, 57
• His sickness that took him off from that attendance, and for some time from his pastoral employment p. 57
• The occasion of his necessary surceasing to preach p. 58
• His receipt of 200 l. a year a notorious untruth, and what his receipts are p. 58-60
• The reason of his retaining a Title, with his desire to be rid of it, p. 60, 61
• The sum of Lilies slanderous assertions andaspersions; with a resolve of future silence p. 61
• Lilies malicious and murderous mind and motion, to have the whole Presbyterie and Ministry removed by a general massacre. p. 62, 63

In the Advertisement.
• TWo Allegations in Lilies Postscript. p. 64
• The former, of one Cleavland, wherein the late Assembly at Westminster is traduced. ibid.
• The latter, parcel of a Latin Epistle, which Mr. G. must English. ibid.
• The A • tor of it, sometime a Popish Priest ibid.
• By his own kind • ed suspected to be Popish still p. 65
• By some other censured another Spalatensis ib.
• Retaining still divers Popish conceits and opinions p. 65. 66
• His wishes concerning School-Divinity, and Mystical Divinity p. 66, 67
• His renunciation of Popery, with a transcendent commendation of it p. 67, 68
• His charging our Preachers with belying of Papists. p. 68, 60, 70
• His excusing and extenuating of Popish corruptions p. 69
• His Confession of his Faith, no other then what he saith any knowing Papist will acknowledge p. 70
• His Sermon no Sermon &c. what a Riddle p. 70
• His traducing our English Version of the Bible, and bespattering the persons employed in it p. 70, 71
• His reqirie of repair to some persons infalliblie guided, for every reading and sense of each word in Scripture, for sure ground of Faith p 71, 72
• How this pulls to Rome p. 72
• How i • p • shes to Atheism p, 73
• He makes God's Oracles mere Riddles and Intricacies, that may be turned any way p. 74
• He charges the Independents with doing the like p. 75
• In his English he hath the same in effect, which he professes to deliver, for fear of troubling weak ones, in Latin p. 75
• He invites an Answerer, tyes him to Latin, promises to reply so only, but fails p. 75, 76
• He puts off his Answer with sqibs, and scoffs, and impertinencies p 77
• He is for satisfaction of his difficulty sent home to himself, and some other p. 78
• No good proof that not joined to Rome, because he preaches as a Minister here p. 78, 79
• His character impouring him to exercise and cure strange diseases p. 80
• His scruple about his Marriage ibid.
• Tho no professed Jesuit, not free from Jesuitical tricks p. 81
• Writes himself Independent, and his reason why p. 81, 82
• Yet maintains Dependencie, and reqires Episcopacy to the being of a Church p. 81
• How partial herein for Rome p. 81, 82
• Acknowledges Lilies practice and profession condemned in ancient Councils p. 82
• Lily and he wherein alike p. 82, 83, 91, 92, 93
• Hatred of anything rises from the love of some other thing: Mans hatred of God from self-love p. 83
• The ground of Mr. Cs. hatred of Presbyterie ibid.
• Manie preferred out of disaffection to some others p. 84
• So Mr. Carp. Schismatical and Heterodox Separatists, before Presbyterians and Calvinists ibid.
• His collation of Presbyterians and Independents p. 84, 85
• His gross abuses of Scripture p 85
• His manifold scurrillous terms given to the Presbyterians, • ainous charges, and abandoning of them p. 85, 86
• His Lucian- like dream of a dance in a Mask with the P • e-dish p. 86
• His absurd deduction of Kirk from 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 a tail p. 86, 87
• B. Kings censure of Enoch Clapham p. 87
• Mr, Carp. bringing the Pulpit upon the Stage, and the Stage into the Pulpit p. 87, 88, 89
• His traducing the Presbyterians and Genevians, and defring them as Jesuits p. 90
• His charitable affection professed to the Anabaptists p. 90
• Malicious and murthero • s mind to the Presbyterian party p. 90
• Priest lie character how poor a curb to cruelty p 90, 91
• His solemn abrenunciations of our Presbyters and Preachers p. 92, 93
• His Latin peec • s in Lili • , at his reqest Englished p. 93
• An humble Address to the Higher Powers p. 94, 95

In the Postscript.
• J. Gadburies Epistle to Mr. T. G. p. 96
• His charge of him with scurrillous language p. 96, 97
• With pretending to teach Hebrew, having little skil in it p. 97, 99
• Mr. Gs. access to Mr. Aylof • house p. 97, 98
• His employment there p. 98
• M. Aylofs Wife, what manner of woman, and how affected p. 98 99
• Her daily retirement how managed p. 98
• In all Arts and Sciences the more men know, the more they know their want of knowledge p. 99 100
• Gadburies pretence of a contradiction in Mr. Gs. words p. 100
• His hellish misconstruction of them p. 100, 101
• His scurrillous terms and aspersions of the Ministry ibid.
• Mr. Gs. entrance into the Ministry p. 101, 102
• Why Lily and Gadburie may j • stlie be termed Sycophants and Helhounds p. 102, 103
• Mr. Gs. resolution to meddle no further with them p. 103
• How little, or nothing rather, of truth, they have been able to discover against Mr. G. in his life the one, in his writings the other p. 103, 104
• His idle Qerie answered here and elsewhere p. 104

A Discourse Apologetical, concerning some notorious Falshoods in LILIES Merline for the year 1654.

N O sooner did Lilies Pasqil (for no other then such are his Anniversary Merlins) for the year 54. come flying abroad, but being informed, that therein after his wonted guise he had again fallen foul upon me, I was desirous to have a sight of it, that I might see what he had said in his own defense, concerning those things that I had charged upon him, both in mine Annotations, and in my Vindication thereof, and what he had returned to my fresh charge, or pursuit in the latter, of my first charge in the former. But when it came to my hands upon perusal of it, I soon perceived, that I had proved a true Prognostes, and much truer then Lily; albeit I had not at all consulted with the Stars, as he professeth and pretendeth to do; nor indeed was there any need at all that I should.

For in the first place I found that to be true, which I had foretold, that Lily would, if my Vindiciae ever came to his hands, put off all in the same manner, as he had all other before, whom he was pleased to take notice of, that had written ought against himself, or his Trade, with a few scurrilous Jeers; and just so he doth here; to wit, in these terms, An impudent Pamphlet writ against me by that old silenced or dumb Minister, containing twenty six sheets of scolding.

Nor found I that also to have fallen out otherwise then as I had presaged, (according to the advice that I had given him as a friend, and foresaw that he would be so wise as to follow) to wit, that he would wholly let slip, and bury in silence, whatsoever had been formerly with so much confidence averred by him, concerning the pretended grounds of his Art and Trade; how the good Angels (such as he consults with) were the first Teachers of it, and that by them it was revealed to holy men. (such no doubt as himself and his Associates now are) which though both in the Annotation, and Vindication being instantly urged, and eagerly pressed upon, his credit lying at the stake, out of some authentic Record, one or other to make good, unless he would be reputed (as otherwise he justly deserves, and by his silence may deservedly be deemed to acknowledge) to be a coyner and broacher of fictions and fables, to gain credit thereby to his cheating Trade, and to gull poor people with, by telling them such fond tales, and frivolous stories, as himself well knows, and his own Conscience (if he have any at least,) told him, that he had no proof at all for: Yet throughout the whole heap here of his frivolous Calculations, fabulous Relations, ridiculous Predictions, forged and coined, like the Sabine, or Jewish Dreamers, dreams, to comply with the current, and fit the fancies of those whom he would cury favor with, and scurrilous girds at those whom he desires to disgrace or deems to be out of grace with some great ones, he hath not one word, wise or other, concerning this matter, that so nearly concerned him; much less ought to confirm that his, as groundless, so still deserted, and least guardless, assertion, upon which he made choice before to bottom the tottering Fabric of his whole Trade.

After a survey therefore taken of it, I was at a stand with myself, in doubt whether I should assay to deal at all further with so shameless a creature, who knew not how to reason, but to rail only. The rather having been told by divers of my friends, that I had already stooped too low, and graced him too much, by entering into the Lists with so base a fellow, unfit for any man of gravity or ingenuity to deal with: And that they could not therefore without indignation, read my name in the Frontispiece of my book, as having ought to do with Lily.

And indeed as one in the Greek Comick saith, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , Dura nimis est ingenuae cum meretrice contestatio. It is a very hard task for an honest woman to be driven to contest with a common strumpet: And the reason of it, is well rendered by that Noble Roman Censor, when he told a lewd fellow that railed on him, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . There is an unequal encounter between thee and me; thou hast herein the odds of me; for it is a rife matter with thee to hear ill language from others, and as ready a matter to return the like again; whereas with me it is both unpleasant to do it, and unwonted to hear it. In like manner, may I well say, doth the case stand here between Lily and myself. I shall herein willingly yield him the bucklers; I list not to contend with him in scurrility and bad language; herein, I confess, he hath the better of me. But as he said sometime of a Dicer, Aleator qanto in art melior, tanto pejor est; the better Dicer, the worse man: So he that is the best at railing, is the worst in disposition; and as bad and foul language is a practice very rife with him, so it seems that no less frequentlie he meets with his mates, and it may be sometime with his matches, being repaid in coin of the same stamp with his own, having the like language returned him from others. For he makes grievous complaint elsewhere of scurrilous Mercuries, that vie it with his scurrilous Merlins, and overload them with their multitudes, and that may seem to have befallen him, that Seneca saith of Vatinius, Convitiis assiduis depudere didicerat. That by frequency of hearing bad language, though not undeservedlie, from others, he is grown to that height of impudency, that he hath stripped himself of all shame, laid aside all ingenuity, and abandoned himself to the baiting of everyone that comes in his way; laying at them with broad language, and the worst of words, without all regard whether they deserve well or ill, or whether that wherewith he bespatters them, be true or falls.

In this manner of contestation and debate therefore Lily and I ar not even matches. Neither hav I been accustomed to entertain others with foul language; neither hav I, I thank God, been much encountered with it myself; not so much, at least, as many others, by much better then myself. In this regard therefore to go forth into the field, and enter the lists on such 〈…〉 ns, wherein the encounter is so uneqal, and yet better be beaten then beat; I concluded that it was best to lay down the cudgels, or to let them lie rather, and leave Lily to rant and rail at his pleasure.

And indeed for his scurrilous girds, broad terms, and bad language, I was well content; and rest still resolved, so to do. Let him rank and reckon me by name in the list of the mute, dumb, and old doting Priests, which the late Comet saith, must be routed, or rooted out. And yet by the way, as one sometime demanded of one of his complices, How it came to pass, that they, who take upon them by the Stars, to tell every draggle-tail'd Girl that comes to them to inquire after a Silver Spoon lost, what was become of it, and which way it was gone; yet could not by their star-skil foresee and foretell the Scotch Kings defeat at Worcester, his escape by flight, and which way he was fled: So would I fain know of this great Star-master, how it comes to pass, that he who by this Comet can foretell us of such great matters to be effected by it, could not by the Stars foresee and foretell us of the coming of the Comet, and how long it should last, being a matter of so great importance. But let this go for a Parenthesis, return we to our task. Let him tell me, That I prov all I write on Jer. 10. 2. by Strabo, Pliny, Lucian, and Cicero, &c. else I might go sleep. Bid me go write another Commentary on that Text, and prov mine Annotations Canonical by Strabo and Cicero, two pure Heathen Autors. Let him tell me, that in my late Vindication with much scurrility I qote Lucian 〈◊〉 Scoffer, Papias and Balbus, two Logger-headed Grammarians and Heathens against Astrology, and so play the fool in producing the judgment of men disaffected to the point in question. Let him style me a covetous wretch, whose slanderous Pen would make the world believe, that Jacob Behmen was a Dutch Wizard; whereas his divine works give a beginning to new discoveries of knowledge; (to wit, telling us, what God did before the world began; of an endless number of transactions before this world was created, and of two co-infinite and co-eternal ones, God and the Abyss; of which elsewhere more at large.) But this Wizard is no Wizard, forsooth, but a true Prophet, and his writings Divine works or Oracles. For he foretold long since, that a Lily should blossom to us in these Northern Countries, and should grow to a great flourishing tree among us, if we do not destroy it with the Sectarian contentions of our learned men, while we contend, and dispute, and wrangle with it. Thus Lily of him, out of him. And can any wiseman, think we, doubt, whom this Prophecy concerns? who no marvel then, if he cannot endure, to hear J. B. termed a Wizard, anymore then himself. But these ar all but petty sprinklings, and slight dashes of his he sparrows qil. Let him tell me, breaking out into broader terms, and far larger letters, making use of his great Turkies Text Pen; That I am an old, covetous, stiff-necked Churl, who having given over preaching, now like a child teach, or am taught a new mode of spelling to my Proselytes, and cant the art of lying and scolding to the Wives of Billingsgate, being myself unmarried. Yea, to these let him add as many more reproachful epithits as he will, and load me with as many more contumelious terms as he pleases; all this wind shall shake no corn at all with me: As Symmachus sometimes, (if my memory fail me not,) Nullius neqitiatanti est, ut •• t • me o digna sit. None of all his scurrility, at the most, and the highest, shall mov me one jot. I shall but smile at the man's simplicity, and laugh at his folly, if he be so silly, as to suppose any that read him so senseless, that they can by him be induced to believe the things to be true and real, that here he writes of me. So that herein he doth but (as Jude speaks) foam out his own filth, and (as Solomon of the foolish) proclaim his own folly. For mine own part, I account them but as words of cours with Mr. Lily, and as Bio said in the like case, am no more affected with them, then as if he bid me, Good morrow. No • would I blot paper with such base unsavory stuff, save only to let those see, who it may be have not light on his Book, or looked into it, what sweet flowers of his usual rhetoric they ar like to find it fraught with; and that such as otherwise do not so well know him, may judge of the man by the manner of his writing.

To call a man Thief, or a woman Whore, I have heard some say, will bear no action at Law; but to say, You are a thief, and stole such a matter from such an one; or, You are a whore, and were taken in bed with such a man, will. And the reason hereof seems, because those general and indefinite terms ar deemed stomackful words only, whereas in the other there is a charge with particular matter of fact. Had this Railer therefore kept himself within this compass, and contented him with such general, base, and foul terms, I should never have troubled either myself with writing, or any other with reading these lines. For as for those particulars, that he snaps at, concerning some Autors that I qote, how sorry, poor, idle, frothy, frivolous, yea, and falls, his exceptions and allegations ar, will soon appear unto any, that shall be pleased to take so much pains, as to consult the Annotations and Vindication of them that ar everywhere together abroad.

For example, All I write on Jer. 10. 2. he saith, I prov by Strabo, Lucian, Pliny, and Cicero; whereas of Lucian I have not any one word there; the other three I cite joyntlie, only to show, That Astrologers were ancientlie termed Chaldeans; and Pliny apart, to show, What antiqitie of observation the Heathen Diviners pretended for their superstitious divinations by the flight of fouls, and from the bowels of beasts; That in my Vindication I qote Lucian, a Scoffer: But to what purpose? To prov ought in controversy by him? No. But to show, That an Impostor in his times used the like shifts that Lily now doth, though in some kind more wisely, and warilie then he. But I qote also there, two Logger-headed Grammarians and Heathens. If his meaning be in sensu composito, that those two Grammarians were Heathens, it is falls; they were both Christians, though they lived in an obscure and corrupt age. But what do I cite them for? To show, that they were sounder, coneurring therein with the learned of other, and better ages, in the notation of some words, and distinction of some terms, then some of Lilies Patrons, and Advocates; and the more shame then for them, professing much learning, and charging others with ignorance, to come short in such petty matters of such Logger-headed Grammarians, as their Client saith they were. Or, if he mean in sensu diviso, that I qote other Autors, that ar pure Heathens (as elsewhere he saith of Strabo and Cicero) against Astrology. I might demand of him, Whether Strabo and Cicero ar more pure Heathen, or any that I qote against Astrology, then Thales and Solon, whom his Advocate qotes for it; or whether Hermes, Proclus, Plotinus, Ptolemy, Albumazar, Hali Rodoan, Baranzanus, &c. be any better then such, whom he qotes for his practice, and on whose authority, next to his good Angels, of whom by his silence, he now seems ashamed, he principally rests and relies. I qote Heathen Autors indeed; but to what purpose? To show, that the wiser sort even among the Heathen discovered the vanity and folly of this pretended skil: As Clemens, Augustine, and others of the Ancients, produce the like, to show, that the wiser sort of them disavowed the multiplicity of their counterfeit Deities. Yea, but I play the fool in producing the judgment of men disaffected to the point in question. Not, I hope, when I produce them to prov, that they ar not all such silly Ignoramusses, as Lily and his Advocate would bear the world in hand, that tax his trade, and that it is not out of mere ignorance that they disallow and condemn it; unless he can prov, that they ar all also such Logger-heads, as he saith those two were.

But in all these particulars thus specified, and here carped at, there is nothing of much moment, nor ought that contains in it any matter of scandal. One or two other things there are, wherewith albeit they no way at all concern, either my Charge against him, or his Defense of his own Cause, wherein he is as mute as a fish; yet he strives what he can, to asperse my good name, endeavoring to fasten some particulars upon me, that may tend unto scandal; which I suppose therefore, it may concern me to take notice of, and to clear myself from his falls imputations: that which divers of my Friends also have incited me to do.

One of the wisest of mere men, that ever was since the fall, telleth us, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 That a good name is a matter of more worth, then a precious ointment; (which were said to be 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , very highly prized in those parts) and more to be esteemed of then riches and much treasure. And a Heathen man therefore saith, Famae & fidei damna majora sunt qod q • aestimari possunt; That the wrongs a man receives in his good name and credit, ar greater damages then can be valued. We have a common saying among us, That for a man to have a bad name, it is as good, or bad rather, as to be half hanged. But the Greek Orator goes further then so, and saith, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , That it were not a greater penalty for a man to be stoned to death or burnt qick, then justly and deservedlie, to live in disgrace: And the Greek Father, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , That death itself is more tolerable then disgrace: Yea, the Apostle Paul himself professeth to be of the 〈◊〉 ▪ 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , that it were better for him to die, that any man should take his life, rather then his glorying away from him. And he admonisheth all Christian men to be very charie in this kind, following 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , such things as ar of good report; providing 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 not good only, but goodly, as the word properly signifies; honest things, as we render it, not in the sight of God only, but in the sight of men also; Caventes & nobis à peccato, & ill is à scandalo, as Bernard speaks; being careful to shun, as the offending of God by any carriage▪ simply evil, so of giving occasion of offense to man, by any cours that may prov scandalous, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , saith Clemens of Alexandria, That they may not only be faithful in regard of God, but of credit also in regard of men. Hence it is, that Julian saith, No • is necessaria est vita nostra, aliis fama nostra; that Our good life is needful for our selves, our good name for others, as well as our selves: And Augustine, Opus est bona famâ apud homines, bona conscientiâ apud Deum. Need have we as well of a good report with men, as of a good conscience towards God. According to that of the Apostle concerning himself, that it was his constant endeavor and exercise to keep 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 a conscience free from offense; that is, from giving occasion thereof unto either, both towards God and men; and therefore, Qi conscientiae fidens famam negligit, crudelis est. For a man, saith he, relying upon his conscience, to be retchless and regardless of his good name, it is a kind of cruelty both to others, and to himself.

In which consideration, that renowned Roman Emperor Mark Antonine, albeit with the Stoic's he reckoned, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , fame and report, good or bad, in rebus mediis; among those things that were neither simply good, nor evil of themselves; and doth therefore admonish men to rest principally (as the Apostle also professeth that he did) on the inward testimony of their own conscience; contenting themselves with that, where the other cannot be had; yea, adviseth them to be content to sustain reproach and infamy for the keeping of a good conscience, and to be willing to part with the one for the retaining of the other; doing that that they know to be their duty, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , though it may be deemed infamous, or 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , though they shall be defamed for the doing of it, as Pythagoras before him. That which not our Apostle only resolvs with himself, to steer his cours according to his card and compass, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , passing as well, and as willingly, through good report, and evil report; though by some repu • ed 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , as an imposter, and a counterfeit, when he was in truth nothing less: But Seneca also, Ad honestum consilium per mediam infamiam tendam: I will break, saith he, through the midst of infamy to the accomplishment of an honest act; adding withal, That no man in his judgment sets an higher rate on virtu and well doing, then he, Qi boni viri famam perdidit, ne conscientiam perd • ret; Who hazards the loss of being reputed a good man, that he might not loose the reality, and conscientiousness of it. And elsewhere inciting his friend to the like resolution, he tells him. Saepe justus esse debebis cum infamiâ; & tunc, si sapis, mala opinio sic parta delectabit: That if he will do as he should do, he must ofttimes do that which is just and upright, though he shall be ill thought of▪ or ill spoken of for it; (that which Antisthenes, as some, Alexander, as others, used to say, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , that it was the lot of Kings to hear ill, when they did well;) and that, if he were so wise as he should be, an evil report, or evil repute so gotten, should be so far from daunting or disturbing him, that it ought rather to delight him; as it is said of those two Apostles, Peter and John, after they had been baited and beaten in the consistory, they went away, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , rejoicing, that they had been graced so much as to be disgraced for Christ; and of Moses, that he reckoned, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 the sustaining of reproach for Christ, a greater honor then all the treasures or royalties of Egypt could afford.

Yet notwithstanding all this, of that worthy Emperor doth Julius Capitolinus, report, That he was famae suae curiosissimus, exceeding chary and regardful of his good name; in so much, That male loqentium dict is vel literis, vel Sermon respondebat; he was careful to return answer, either by word of mouth, or in writing, unto the sayings of such as had raised evil reports of him. Among other things, he saith, Nihil aliud magis timuit & deprecatus est qam avaritiae famam; do qâ se multis epistolis purgat. He was solicitous to devolv and depel from himself nothing more then the note of avarice; (cast upon him by some, it seems, as on Pius before him, for his frugality, and moderating of public expenses, that he might nor be overburdensom to the subject) whereof he labored to purge himself in divers of his Epistles. So careful ar good men, and have ever been, both to gain, and to retain a good report; and the Apostle reqires it, as a matter of much concernment in a Minister of the Gospel, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , That he have a good report, even from those that ar without; that he may be the fitter and better able to do good, as well on those without, by converting and bringing them in, as on those within, by confirming and building them up, having a good repute with, and being well thought of by either: To which purpose he adds, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , That he may not fall under reproach, and into the snare of the calumniater or slanderer; as the same term would be also rendered in the same Chapter in those words, Not a novice, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , lest being puffed up, he fall under the censure of the calumniater; as also in those words elsewhere, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , nor give place to the calumniater, back-biter, or talebearer: Such as ar wont by falls reports, as with fuel, to foment and seed the fire of anger and ill will, where they find it already kindled; as also ar persons so affected no less prone, lying in wait to that purpose, to take occasion by any flying, though never so falls report to traduce God's Ministers, and blast their credit, all they can. And as all Christian people therefore, so Christian Ministers much more, ought to be very charie and tender of their reputation: As the Apostle Paul apparentlie showeth himself to have been, when he takes so much pains, and spends so many almost whole Chapters, in the Vindication of it, against those falls brethren, and counterfeit Apostles, who had at Corinth endeavored to wrong him therein. And I suppose some necessity lies upon me at present also to do.

For howsoever Lilies words ar, as we use to say, no slander; he is so well known to be a most notorious liar, and one that regards not what he saith; and it is a received rule in the Civil Law, Mendax semel, mendax semper praesumitur. He that hath been once taken in a lie, and much more, one that hath been oft taken (as he hath been) in falls tales not a few, is never after to be credited. And again, A bad man's reproach is no dispraise. The commendation of such, is sometime rather deemed a kind of dispraise, making the party whom such commend, suspected to be like those by whom he is commended. And Seneca therefore, Non est infamia infamari ab infamibus. It is no infamy for a man to be defamed, by those that are infamous themselves; And therefore, saith he, as it is mere fondness for a man, Laetari, qod ab eis laudatur, qos non po • est ipse laudare, to rejoice when he is commended of those, • hom himself cannot commend. So is it mere madness for a man, Vereri ne ab infamibus infametur, to fear being traduced and defamed, by those that are infamous themselves, and he well knows to be such. Yet because, as Medius, one of Great Alexanders base Parasites, and among his Sycophants, a chief Master, is reported to have delivered this lesson to his Scholars, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 That they should boldly and confidently, touch or twich, and snap or bite men with calumnies or slanders, not regarding how untru, how unlikelie they were; for, said he, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ; that is, as Seneca renders it, Cum vul 〈…〉 sanatum est, manebit cicatrix. Tho the party bitten, lick the wound never so whole again, yet some scar will remain upon the place that was hurt. And the Poet therefore, when he had said,

A good conscience sets light by, and laughs at folks lying reports. Subjoyns yet withal,

Sed nos in vitium (and so, in vituperium) credula turba sumus. People ar commonly over-credulous, too prone to entertain evil reports, and to conceive evil surmises; too many men ar naturally of a suspicious disposition; and as the Mimik hath it,

Suspition is wont to warp and bend more strongly to the worst side. Whence that saying so freqent in most men's mouths, There is seldom any smoke, but where there is some fire; and yet in truth, there is smoke oft, yea, and much smoke, such as the by word relateth to, even a great smother of foggy fumes, raised by slanderous tongues, where no small spark of fire, or ember of truth at all is to be found.

The premises seriously considered, and all things well weighed, after much debate to and fro within myself, at length I resolved to follow the precedent of that thrice noble and renowned Emperor; the more noble and renowned and worthy of imitation, because so Philosophical, and though no Christian, yet Christian-like in moralities, as well for practice as precept; and by some few lines at least, to clear myself from those soul, but falls aspersions, wherewith this Sycophants calumniating pen hath endeavored to stain my good name; the rather, for that my courses and carriages, having lived in an obscure corner, may in that regard be less known abroad; and my former works and writings, whereby some things objected here ar to be cleared, being now either wholly out of print, or not easily procured, may not be obvious or read • e at hand for others, to make use of in the trial of the present debate.

The slanderous charges then of this Sycophant are principally two. The former of them is thus delivered by him.

Mr. Gataker formerly a stiff Prelate, preaching impudentlie for the Liberties or Sports of the Sabbath, viz. Cards, Dice, &c. Afterward in hope of Bishops, Deans, or Chapter-Lands, a pretended Presbyterian; since its decay, the poor m • n is mute, &c. For what followeth will be best fitted to his after-charge.

Principiis omen inesse solet. Beginnings ar deemed ominous. Ad limen offender, or, In portu impingere. For a man to trip at the threshold, when he is going abroad, and a ship to strike on the bar, or run on ground, when it is setting out to sea, have been by old said Saws, pronounced to be but bad signs, and to bode little good. This charge therefore appeering with an apparent lie in the foretop, gives no good presage of that, that ensueth: For when or where was Mr. G. ever a Prelate, can Lily tell, think we? or any man else? and how could he be a stiff Prelate, that never was any? This is therefore a manifest, and conspicuous falsehood to begin with; and as the Greek Tragoedian sometime said.

That which goeth for a ruled Case in the Civil Law, Malum principium malus finis seqitur. A bad beginning is wont to bring forth a bad end. And the like is entered as an Axiom in the body of the Canon Law, Principio q 〈…〉 sunt inchoata malo, vix est ut bono peragantur exitu. Those things that are ill begun scarce ever end well. According to that,

A bad beginning seldom comes to a good end. Where yet the Gloss upon the place goes further then the Text, and saith, Vix. i. Nunqam. Scarce ever, that is, Never. And the great Philosopher to the same purpose sticks not to say, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . It is impossible; but that that which is faulty at the first, should prove il at the last. And that ancient Father, and stout Champion of Christ, Athanasius, seconding Aristotle herein, yea, going further yet then he, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . That that hath a bad beginning, can never be deemed sound in ought, as being all stark naught. And Seneca therefore, from Bio an ancient Greek of great note, thus determines the point, Let every man set it down for a position, and know it to be an undoubted truth, which Bio sometime said, Omnia hominum negotia similia init iis esse; That all men's affairs will prove good or bad, according as their beginnings are. And yet more expressly and particularly to our present purpose, I sidore the Egyptian, one of Chrysostom's chief Scholars, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . He that in the beginning swarveth from the truth, will in his proceedings roll further away from it, and end at last with some foul and shameful catastrophe or other. Lily therefore beginning his charge thus with a notorious lie, foretelleth those that read him by what they find in the front or forehead of it, how little truth they may look for in the residu of his ensuing relation, and that as it begins, so the progress of it shall be, and the close answerable to either.

But Mr. G. saith he, formerly a stiff Prelate. I might demand of him, if Mr. G. were ever a Prelate, stiff or slack, how or when was he deposed, or by what means came he to be beref • of his Prelacy? for now sure, it is well known, he is none: But to let that pass. When he was such an one, what then did he? Why, When he was such a Prelate, he then impudentlie preached for the liberty. of Sabbath sports. Very true indeed, if you take it in sensu composito, it is a most certain and undeniable truth; when he was the one, he did the other. But take it in sensu diviso, as he intends here and doth, that I was once a Prelate, and that I did sometime so preach; and the one is as true as the other, either of them a most shameful, or shameless lie rather, both as falls as God is true But, as he sometime said, Qi semel verecundia fines transierit, eum ben • & gnaviter impudentem esse oportet. When a man hath once gone beyond the bounds of truth and modesty, it stands him upon then to break further out, to grow impudent to the purpose, and to lie beyond measure.

For what proof can he produce of Mr. G. so preaching, or whoever heard him preach for Liberty of Sports on the Lord's day? or, for Liberty to profane the Lord's day, in one kind or other? Nor let any take exception, as some have done, that I style it the Lord's day, rather then the Sabbath. I remember a Speech of Dr. Oldisworth, my worthy Friend, living then in mine Honorable Patron the Lord Hobarts house, (as eager an urger of the strict observance of that day as the most) upon occasion of discourse of some debate then about it. The day, said he, hath three Names in common use given it, the Sunday, the Sabbath day, the Lord's day. The first an Heathenish name, the second a Jewish, the third a Christian; and why should not, said • e, this last be preferred before either of the former. And the first indeed is a name that came at first from the Heathen, yet is it found used by Justine Martyr in his Apology to the Roman Emperor, in behalf of the Christians, mentioning it as the day of their meeting; no • dare I utterly condemn the use of it: The Sunday for the name of a day, the first day of the week, as it is termed Acts 20. 7. anymore then Bethshemesh (though from an idolatrous or superstitious at least, original) the Suns house or place, for the name of a City, 1 Sam. 6. 12, 13. The second may be termed Jewish, because a term peculiar to them in times past, but common to us now with them, though differing in the day, and supposed by some to be by the Evangelist, Matth, 24. 20. used of our day; which though it seem not so probable, yet may qestionless not unfitlie be used of it, seeing it is, and ought to be a day of holy rest unto us, as was their Sabbath then to them, Isa. 58. 13. The third and last, is the name peculiar to Christians, not common either to Heathen or Jews with them; that which the Lord's beloved Disciple gives it, the Lord's Day, Revel. 1. 10. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , the Lord's day, fanctified and set apart for the Lord's service, as 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , the Lord's Table, 1 Cor. 10. 21. and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , the Lord's Supper, consecrated and set apart for the memorial of Christ, and by his Institution; which to me therefore, seems the fittest term for it. But cal the day by which, or whether term of them you please, I have, wheresoever I exercised my Ministry, as occasion was offered, been a constant pleader for, and ins • ant presser of the du observation of the day; as that which I ever esteemed to be a main pillar and support of the practice, yea, a principal means both of the maintenance and advancement of the power of Piety, among God's people.

It is a Rule prescribed by some of the great Masters of Physic, Medicus m • rbos observet epidemios, That a Physician should▪ observe what diseases ar rifest in the t • mes or places he lives in, and apply his studies and courses princ pallie to the cure of them. And according to that direction, appliable to our Function, considering the freqencie of abuses among people in misspending a great part of that day in most places where I came, I did the rather usuallie bend myself in my teaching, to dissuade and deter those that I spake to, from those abusive courses, whereby I perceived the day, or any part of it, to be commonly profaned by them.

To this purpose, before I came to Lincolns Inn, while I lodged in the House of that Religious Knight, my worthy Friend and Kinsman, Sir William Cook, near to Charing-Cross, being reqested to Preach now and then at Martins in the Fields, and having taken notice how the Gentry, many of them thereabout spent much of the Lord's day in Complemental Visitations, I took occasion one day, out of Isa. 58. 13. to handle the Doctrine of the Sabbath or Lord's day; and among other things endeavored to show, That it was not to be spent in such Civil Complements, but in Religious Employments. And this I remember the rather by a good token, which it will not be amiss to relate. It fell out the Lord's day, next ensuing,, that an ancient Gentlewoman, one of that Congregation, being returned home from the Afternoon Exercise, while she sat in an upper Room, ripping off some Lace from an old Garment, which she intended to make use of otherwise, heard a Coach to make stay on the other side of the street, and looking out at the Window to see whose it was, when she espied a Lady her Niece, whom it staid for, entering it, to go abroad in it for such purpose. Oh, qoth she, to her waiting Maid, then attending upon her, did not my Niece N. hear Mr. G. the last Lord's day, and is she now going out to visit again. Whereupon one of that Family afterward occasionallie meeting me, thus merrilie saluted me, Sir, when you Preach next of the Sabbath, be pleased to tell our Gentlewomen, that they must not • it ripping Gold-lace off their old Peticoats upon the Lord's day; and withal told me the story. But for which, I should not in likelihood have called to mind again that Sermon being preached so long since.

At my coming to Lincolns Inn, there was on the Lord's day one Lecture only at seven in the morning, nor had there been any other before. There being settled some space of time, when I observed that divers of the great practicers spent a great, if not the greatest part of the day, the Afternoon especially, in entertaining of their Clients, I took occasion in my teaching, to step a little aside out of the road I was then in, to speak somewhat of that subject, endeavoring to show them, That it was as lawful for the Husbandman to hedge and ditch, or to follow his Tillage on that day, as for the Lawyer to employ it in consulting with, and attending his Clients. And I pressed the point so far, that through the good hand of God, going along with it, and carrying home his own Ordinance to the hearts of the hearers; it made so deep an impression upon them, that upon a motion made by some of the chief ones at the next meeting after it, a consultation was had, what cours might be taken for the future prevention of so common and irregular a practice: And after advice therein taken with me, it was by common consent, agreed on, That the Morning Lecture on the Lord's day, should be drawn down to the usual hour in other places, and the Wednesday Lecture transferred to the Afternoon of the Lord's day. Which, howsoever it were a matter of much more labor to myself to speak twice in one day (which, as I am informed, in the French and Dutch Congregations is seldom or never done; and some of my Successors have complained of, and blamed me, for giving way thereunto) and by means thereof I was abbridged of that liberty of hearing others abroad, which I had formerly enjoyed; yet for the atcheiving of my main ay • herein, of gaining a more du and diligent observance of the day, I right willingly dispensed with mine own ease and advantages, and condescended thereunto. And this was the ground of the alteration of the Lectures in that House; which, I suppose, in that manner, in which, upon this occasion they were then settled, continue still to this day.

During mine abode at Lincolns Inn, the time approaching for my taking the degree of Bachelor in Divinity, I procured a cours at St. Mary's in Cambridge, for mine English Sermon; the first and last that I ever preached there, having never had the boldness before to appear in that place. This fell out to be the very next day after Qeen Elizabeth's decease; which being not known yet at Cambridge, the Qeen, as still surviving, was at the Forenoon Sermon solemnlie prayed for by him that preached that day at Kings College: But about Noon the report came down of the Qeen departed this life, and King James proclaimed, which caused an exceeding great concours of people at the Afternoon Sermon, though it were no Lord's day: When by advice of the Vice-Chancelor, in regard that no public notice of it was as yet sent down, I conceived my Petition for the King, in a kind of circumlocution, For the present Supreme Governor, without expression of his name: At that branch of my Prayer, the tears trickling down my Cheeks, and scarce any one dry eye in the whole Assemblie, as I was afterward informed. This Sermon then had on 1 Tim. 6. 6. at the reqest of some Friends, who had seen some Copies of it, was many years after published under this Title, The Gain of Godliness; wherein is extant the ensuing passage concerning the Lord's day, p. 36-38.

For wordly wealth, men can toil and moil all the week long, and yet ar they not weary, they think not the whole week long neither; but for the heavenly gain, for the spiritual thrift, we have but one day of seven, and we think that to much too; we think the day all to long, the labor all lost, and the whole time cast away, that we employ and spend to this purpose: We say as the profane Jews sometime said, When will • he New Moon be past, and the Sabbath once over, that we may return again to our wordly affairs? Yea, many among us have not the patience to tarry so long, but spend a great part of the Sabbath, that is God's Market, or Market-day, for the getting of this spiritual Gain, either about their wordly affairs, or their bodily delights.

The Sabbath day, I say, is God's Market-day; and those that seek to take away the Sabbath, attempt to put down God's Markets, and so do the Devil good service, whatsoever their intent be. As freqenting of Markets makes a rich man, so keeping of Sabbaths makes a rich Christian; and as we count him a bad Husband, that followeth game on the Market-day, so may we as well count him a spiritual unthrift, that spends the Sabbath in that sort.

But may some say, When we have been at Church, and heard the Sermon and Service, is not God's Market-day then done?

I answer, If the Sabbath be a day, then it is not so soon done; God's Market lasteth all day long. Yea, grant the principal, because the public of it be past; yet, as Market-falks returning from Market, will be talking of their Markets as they go by the way; and be casting up of their penny-worths, when they come home; reckon what they have taken, and what they have laid out, and how much they have gotten. So should we, after we have heard the Word publicly, confer privatelie of it with others, at least meditate on it by our selves; and be sure to take an account of our selves, how we have profited that day, by the Word that hath been spoken unto us, and by other Religious Exercises that have been used of us. And us the Marketman counteth that but an evil Market-day, that he hath not gained somewhat on, more or less; so may we well account it an evil Sabbath to us, whereon we have not profited somewhat; whereon we have not either increased our knowledge, or been bettered in affection; whereon we have not been further either informed in judgment, or reformed in practice; whereon we have added no whit at all to our Talent. Thus then and there.

After my leaving of Lineol • s Inn, being reqested by my Right Honorable Lord, the Lord Hobart, to bestow a Sermon on them one Lord's day at Serjeants Inn in Fleetstreet, before the Judges and Serjeants at Law of that House: I preached unto them on Psal. 82. 6, 7. That which came forth in Print shortly after, about the same time with the former, under the Title of God's Parley with Princes. In it pag. 12-14. these words may be seen and read;

Here let me more particularly, as from God, and in God's Name, entreat you, to have a special regard of observing God's Sabbaths. You that are to see them observed by others, ought you not much more to observe them yourselves? Your carriage is a kind of censure; that all men fix their eyes upon; that most men shape their courses by. If others then shall see you riding in your Circuits on the Sabbath, will they not think within themselves? And why may not I ride as well on the Sabbath to a Fair, as the Judge may to the place of Assize? If they shall be warned to appear before you for some hearing, by themselves, or by their Counsel upon the Sabbath, will they not be ready to argu from the works of your calling, to the works of their own? And why may not I as well be about my work, as they about theirs? And in truth (to speak plainly as the thing is) why may not a Smith as well work at the Forge, or an Husband man at the Plough, as a Judge sit to hear Civil Causes on the Sabbath? The one hindereth the Sanctification of it, as well as the other.

And if it be alleged, That the one is (as before was proved indeed) more specially God's work. So were the repairing of a Church, which yet the Mason or Plummer may not work about on the Sabbath; no more then Besaleel or Aholiab might about the work of the Tabernacle; for the furtherance whereof, God would not admit, or give way to the least violating of his Sabbath. Thus also there.

Yea, but Mr. G. though he pleaded so hard for restraint of work on the Lord's day, yet he preached as earnestly for play, and in particular, if Lily may be believed, for Carding and Dicing upon the Lord's day. For so run the words of his charge here, Preaching impudentlie for the Liberties or Sports of the Sabbath, Cards, and Dice, &c.

Which parcel of his Charge being of the same stamp with the rest, is not unlike some short skirt of a beggars coat, made up of a few sory snips and shreds, unhandsomlie stitcht up and il-favoredlie patched together; having reference, in part to King James his Book of Liberty for Disports on Sundays and Holidays, and in part to my Treatise of the Nature and Use of Lots; but so blended together and entermingled the one with the other, that they make a mere medley.

For, as for the former, King James indeed in the year 1618. the Sixteenth of His Reign, publ shed a Declaration, wherein he gave Liberty, for some Disports that might be used on the Sabbath or the Lord's day. But what ones were they, that therein he gave way to? Cards and dice? &c. No: There is not one word or title at all concerning them in the whole Book; but they are expressly therein named these, Dancings men or women, May-games, Whit sun-Ales, Morrice-dances, Rush-bearings, setting up of May-poles, and other sports therewith used. These ar the Disports by name there designed, wherewith leave is given and authority to solemnize and celebrate the Lord's day. An Act il-beseeming so prudent and understanding a Prince. And such, it may seem, as afterward himself was ashamed of, and unwilling to own: For I have heard it reported, that when a Copy of his Works gathered together, newlie printed, and richlie made up, was presented unto him, before any of them should go abroad, having upon the opening of it, lighted upon this piece, not without expression of much indignation he tore it out with his own hands, and gave strict charge to have it done out of the whole impression, where now none of it appears. Which if it were true, (for I dare not confidently avow it, having it only by hear-say) the greater and more grievous was the sin and shame of those great Prelates; who whither to please the King and Court, or to cross, vex, curb, and ensnare the Conscientious Ministers; not then only approved the practice, but long after renewed afresh the memory of it, and pressed his Son King Charles to revive it again, and to enjoin the publishing of it by the Ministers of the Word in their several places, upon pain of suspension; which not a few of them sustained for the refusal thereof.

Now in defense of this Declaration, and in justification of such Sports used on the Sabbath, whereas this Liar affirms, that I preached, it is a most notorious untruth; for neither did I ever speak, write, or preach word in defense or allowance thereof, or of any such Sports used on that day; neither was that Declaration ever published first or last, either by myself, or any assistant of mine: Yea, that I did in writing directly oppose, and expressly condemn it, may appear plainly by what was before related, though preached indeed before that Declaration came out, yet printed at first two year after it, Anno 1620. and reprinted without alteration of ought, in the year 1637.

But pass we on to the other Book here related to, my Treatise of the Nature and Use of Lots, which is girded at in the terms of Cards and Dice, shuffled in under the disguise of Sabbath Sports, there by to wind and screw in my Treatise within the verg and compass of the subject matter with allowance, admitted in that other deservedlie abhorred Book. Tru it is, I acknowledge it, and am not at all ashamed to own it, that I published sometime a large Treatise of the Nature and Use of Lots, having in the Pulpit before, more briefly delivered somewhat of that subject; and I published it the rather, being by divers of my Reverend Brethren, unto whom I had imparted the sum of what I had delivered, encited so to do: To refel the misreports that some other, from whom, in some particulars I dissented, had raised concerning the Doctrine therein taught by me. In this Discours I make it evidently to appear, that a Lot in the genuine nature and ordinary use of it, (and with extraordinary, without special commission and injunction, we have nothing to do) is no sacred matter, nor divine Oracle; and may therefore be used indifferently, as well in light and ludicrous, as in more serious and weighty affairs: And that in regard hereof, Divisorie and Lusorie Lots, ar lawful and warrantable; Consultorie and Divinatorie, unlawful and damnable: And that it is therefore as well a superstitious conceit on the one hand, to condemn any game in regard of a Lot used in it; as it is on the other hand, a superstitious and irreligious practice, to make use of a Lot, for the discovery of God's will and purpose, either what he would have done by us, or determineth himself to do. And in this judgment I still rest, having, as occasion hath been, sufficiently and fully (as I conceive) refelled and answered the Arguments and Objections of all, who have either published ought herein against me, that ever came to my hands, or by writing dealt in private with me: So as that I have not received any further Reply from any one of them; yea, I have so far forth convinced some of the greatest and most eminent among them, that they have been enforced to relinqish, and have refused to own, that ground, which together with the most of the other party, they had formerly with much confidence built on; to wit, That in every casualty there is a special and immediate providence: (Seeing the palpable absurdity thereof plainly discovered) but in room thereof have endeavored to introduce another new conceit, no less absurd then the former; as may be seen in the Second Edition of that concerning Lots in English, Chap. 4. pag. 52-59. and in mine Antithesis to Dr. Ames his Theses in Latin. Nor do I any further justify any Game, Sport, or Pastime, depending either in part, or in whole upon casualty, (of which kind Cards and Dice indeed ar) if they be any way abused, or found otherwise faulty; save only, that they ar not therefore evil, or to be condemned, because there is a Lot in them.

Yea but, though I did not preach for Morrice dances and May-games, yet I did impudentlie Preach for Carding and Dicing, on the Lord's day. For so much do this calumniaters words import, That I preached impudentlie for Sabbath sports, as Cards and Dice, &c. So by his Et Caetera, indeed showing himself not unwilling to have those other also understood.

I need say no more here, but sit liber judex, Let my Book decide it; that my Treatise of Lots, I mean, wherein that may be found, which I shall here thence transcribe, directly opposite to either, Chap. 9. where I give Cautions for Game in general. Sect. 4. p. 293. & 295.

Pag. 293. Recreations are to be used as soberlie, so seasonablie. Recreation is good, when it is seasonable, when it comes in his du time; else, as it is with fish and fowl, when they come out of season, that is evil, that is good otherwise. Now then do men use Game and Recreation unseasonablie, when they should and ought to be otherwise employed, either in the works of their special Callings, or about the holy things of God, (to wit, as it followeth more particularly and fully, Pag. 295.) when they should be tending the holy things of God, either in public or in private. And thus, it is a sin to follow game on the Sabbath, as the Jews used to do, and do yet to this day; and as the Popish sort ar noted ordinarily to solemnize their Festivals. For this is not to sanctify or consecrate the Sabbath as holy to the Lord. The Sabbath indeed is a day of rest, but of holy rest; of rest not to wordly recreations, but to heavenly meditations; of rest to religious and spiritual employments. It is sacrilege therefore to follow game on the Sabbath; at such time as we 〈…〉 old be plying the service and worship of God; it is time stolen from God, that we spend so on our sports: Which it were less sin therefore for us to spend on some serious affairs, according to that which one of the Ancients well saith, Melius est Die Sabbati arare qam saltare. Melius totâ die foderent, qam totâ die luderent. It were better for a man in such manner on the Sabbath, to plough then to play; and to dig and delv, then to dance all day. For the lighter the occasion of sinning is, where all other things are eq • l, the greater the sin is. Where I cite also among others, in the Margin, the words of Robert Grosthed, ancientlie Bishop of Lincoln, on the Decalog, Dies t 〈…〉 à Christiano expendi debet in operibus sanctis. The whole Lord's day Christian people ought to spend in holy employments. And this, as it was at first, both preached Anno 1618. and printed Anno 1619. which was not long after that Book of Liberty, or Licentiousness rather, came abroad; so it was in the year 1627. reprinted in a second Edition, with Addition and Emendation of some things, but without any Retractation, Subtraction, Qalification, or Alteration of ought in this point. And let this therefore remain, as an impudent calumny of a shameless Sycophant, upon record, That Mr. G. Preached impudentlie for Liberty of Sabbath Sports.

But this, saith he, Mr. G. did formerly, when he was a Prelate. Of some Province, it may be in Sir Thomas Mores Utopia; where Mr. L. in a trance be-like, being there one of his Auditors, heard him preach thus. But afterwards (to wit, since he either left or lost his Prelates place) in hope of Bishops, Deans, or Chapters Lands, he became a pretended Presbyterian.

He would, at least, have men believe▪ that I was sometime Prelatical; but have of late turned my coat or my copy, and gaping after some fat gobbets of the Bishops or Deans Lands, pretended to be a Presbyterian. A calumny as falls as its Father is, or as his former Brat hath been convinced to be: And such as he shall never be able to make good, though his Master, that sets him on work, join with him in it.

For my judgment concerning Church-Government, it is the same still that ever it was, since I first began to enqire into matters of that nature. A dulie bounded and well regulated Prelacie joined with a Presbyterie, wherein one as President, Superintendent or Moderator (term him what you please,) whether annual or occasional, or more constant and continual, either in regard of years, or parts, or both joyntlie, hath some preeminence above the rest, yet so, as that he doth nothing without joint consent of the rest, (a module or pattern, whereof I am informed to have been sometime represented unto the late King, by two worthy persons, men of eminent parts, and moderate minds, the one a Prelate, the other in some kind Prelatical, which had it been accepted and established, how advantageous it might have proved, it is not for me to define; but as is reported, was then disallowed and rejected by some great Prelates, and others, by whom the King was most swayed.) Such a manner of Prelacie, I say, I never durst, nor yet dare condemn. But such a Prelatical power, as was here constituted and exercised among us, wherein Bishops and Arch-deacons were enabled and ordinarily used by their Chancellors, Officials, and Surrogates, mostlie mere Civilians, assuming to them any sorry fellow in Orders to fit by, as a cipher or a shadow, to pass the highest and heaviest of all Church-Censures, besides Civil Penalties in their Purses, on the Persons both of Pastors and People, and for trifles and trivial things, mere matters of Ceremony, ofttimes silence, suspend, and deprive, while scandalous, idle, or insufficient ones, were little regarded or looked after; Visitations being by either usuallie held once only in a year, and then rather of Cours and Custom, or to receive Procurations, then to any effectual Reformation of ought. Such a Prelatical power so constituted, and so executed, I never could effect or approv; and truly much less, when I came to see the manner of it, which I had heard too much of before, when living so long in a Pastoral Charge, I never in all my time saw the face of a Bishop personallie present in Court, or Arch-deacon but once, (though both constantly exacting Fees of us.) And observed, how things were shuffled up, when Presentments were made, and in that manner managed; without any cours taken to bring any Delinqent, to a serious sight of, or sincere sorrow for his sin; that their Visitations might well be deemed to be held, as one ancientlie complained, Non tam morum, qam nummorum gratiâ; Rather to empty men's Purses, then to mend their manners.

And my judgment thus formed, I accordingly passed my vote, and gave my consent with others, for the removal of that Body of Government, that was then established with us. Yet (which I then also did not forbear to profess, as well in delivery of mine own sense, as in endeavor to give satisfaction to others, seeking to me for advice,) withal conceiving, That howsoever such a System or Fabric, as was then represented, were justly and deservedlie deemed not unmeet to be dissolved and demolished; yet if any piece of timber or stone-work were found sound and useful in that frame, it might still be retained, notwithstanding ought, condescended unto and agreed upon in that Article.

On the other side, I could not but affect and approv of that Form of Discipline settled in the Reformed French and Dutch Churches, wherein the main cours of Government is ordinarily exercised, carried on by a constant attendance of the Ministers in their several Congregations, having for inspection of men's carriages, some of the discreetest and most understanding among their people, in way of assistance, adjoined unto them; which might well be a special means, both to ease the Minister of much labor and distraction, and to further the Reformation of things among the people amiss. Matters more weighty, that reqire further advice, being referred unto, and transacted by the joint concurrence of the same persons of both sorts before mentioned, either at set-times or occasionallie convening to that purpose. Herein I was the rather confirmed by the successful fruits and effects that this Form of Government is reported to have produced, for the advancement of piety and repressing of disorders in some places, where it hath been established, even by the confession and acknowledgement of some Papists themselves, who (as I have formerly elsewhere shown) have given Testimony thereunto. Tho it cannot be expected that any Churches should enjoy such a flourishing estate, in regard of outward accommodations and secular endowments, where the Civil Powers do rather d • stast and dis-favor, then affect the Profession. And this way therefore I gave my Vote in the Assemblie, as divers other, if not the greater part, did; not as deeming it absolutely necessary, but as agreeable to God's Word, and such as I conceived might be most advantageous for the carrying on of God's work, with hopeful expectation of a successful issu, had that Form of Government, as it was from the Assemblie to both Houses propounded, been soundly established, and backed by their Autoritie, who had begun to erect it.

My deportment therefore and carriage herein, did no way swar • or warp from my former judgment; which both in times past I held, and do still retain, as well concerning Prelacie, as concerning Presbyterie, even the same that at present I here ingenuouslie and freely profess. In regard whereof also in those fore-passed troublesome times under the Prelates, I maintained a good correspondence, and some inward familiarity with the moderater sort on either side; as well with some few of the Prelatical party, who though stiff for the Ceremonies legallie established, yet misliked those innovations that in the latter times began to creep in; nor did approv the carriage of businesses with that rigor and extremity against such as refused conformity, being pious and peaceable; as also with divers of those, of the Presbyterian party, that either openly opposed, or were known to condemn as well the Ceremonies as the Prelacie, as things altogether unlawful, and deemed the Presbyterie such as before was described the only true Government of Christ. Howbeit, by this means that befell me, which that noble Historian sometime said, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , Utrin{que} caedi mos est in medio fitos: Those that dwell in the middle, between two adverse parties, ar wont to be beaten on both sides; and that Gregory that bears the name of the place where his Father was Bishop, though he never enjoyed the Bishopric itself, a man of a modest and peaceable disposition, though as zealous and eager as any against Heretics, complains of the times • e lived in, that amidst the vehement dissensions and violent oppositions, with much eagernes upheld and pursued by either against others, even between and among those, that were otherwise Orthodox, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , All that ar peaceable and keep in the mean, because they run not out into the one or the other extremity, suffer ill from either party. So fared it then with me, by endeavoring to walk evenlie, so far, as with safety of conscience I could, between two extremes on either hand, it was my lot to incur il will, and to suffer from the overeager on either side; from the one party, because I came not up wholly to them, and because some of their people repaired to my teaching, while they either taught not at all, or very seldom themselves, and substituted such as taught so unprofitablie, that their people could receive little benefit by them; which they therefore being vexed at, wrought underhand against me, and sought to procure a restraint of my Ministry; wherein yet, through God's goodness, their plots and designs were so frustrate, that save once, and that for a very short time only, they never took effect according to their as well endeavors, as desires; and again from some of the violenter sort of the other party, such of them especially as endeavored to work a Separation from our Assemblies, being deeply taxed by them of unsoundness and insinceritie, because I complied not in all particulars, either for opinion or practice with them, nor did encite and animate others to do as they did. Mean while I have endeavored to shape my cours, as near and as evenlie as I could, by the card of God's truth discovered in his Word, and the compass of mine own Conscience, from thence informed and directed thereunto, without declining to any bypath, either on the right hand, or on the left. In which tenor the Lord in mercy and goodness be pleased still to keep me, and to lead me on to the last, which must needs be ere long.

But what was it, think we, saith this my Traducer, that from a professed Prelate, induced me to turn a pretended Presbyterian? It was the hope forsooth, saith he, of some Bishops or Deans Lands? And how doth that appear? Why? since its decay the poor man is mute.

I marvel much, when or where I was ever discovered, either formerly, or of late, to gape after such gobbets. The time was, when by occasion of some employment about the Edition of a learned man's works of another Profession, left by him to be first surveyed and perfected in part by me, and then published with the joint advice of an ancient Doctor very intimate with the Archbishop that then was, and living mostlie in house with him, I had tender of preferment made me by the Doctor at first from him, and upon presentment of the work by word of mouth, after seconded in the presence of some great ones, if I would have been biting at such baits; which I fairlie waived, considering what hooks might lie hid under such proffers, and how many have been taken therewith to their prejudice in matters of greatest concernment.

Nor, had I been greedy of any such fat collops, out of the Bishops or Deans Lands, would I have refused one of the prime places in the University, of which, further hereafter, wherein no such snare was, when it was freely offered me, being in yearlie revenue, I suppose, not below divers Deanries, if not above some meaner Bishoprics.

But the proof subjoined, is well worth the observing; though he jabbers so, that one can hardly tell from his words, what he would have. Since its decay, saith he. Whats decay, think we? the decay of the Presbyterie? or the decay of the Lands? or, what other decay is it? For we have need of some Oedipus, to aread us his riddles. But, since its decay, (be it what it will be, or what ever he will have it to be) the man, saith he, is become mute. His meaning is, it may be; (for we must go by guess, as the most and the best ar said to do of his trade) that since those Lands he looked after, and lived in hope of, ar gone another way, and so he sees his hopes frustrate, the poor man (and yet not very poor, if, as he affirms, he receivs still from his Rectorie Two hundred pound a year) is grown mute. But sure, if he had fallen from the Prelatical to the Presbyterian party, or pretended only so to do, in hope of getting some such Lands thereby, one would think, he should now again desert that party, when he perceivs that there is nothing to be gotten by adhering thereunto, yea, when he sustains, as shall hereafter appear, no small damage thereby, and be mute indeed, in forbearing to speak or write ought in behalf of the Presbyterie, especially now seeing, finding, and feeling it to be a cours so disadvantageous. But the man finds it to be otherwise, to his grief, it may be in part; for neither am I yet so mute, but that he hears on both ears from me, much more, I suppose, then he can well endure to read, or is willing to hear; nor have I sealed up my lips yet, from owning and pleading for the Presbyterian party. For which cause also, belike he stiles me, as before a stiff Prelate, so now a stiff-necked, or (as one of his Vouchees is pleased to style me) a stiff-hearted Presbyterian; who, though the Presbyterians be under a cloud with him, and with the State too, as he deems, yet persists still in defending of them against his calumnies; and is neither mute nor meal-mouthed with him, for his shameless, immodest, and malicious, dealing with them.

That his Vouchee, Auto • , or Advocate (cal him which you please, of whom before, and further hereafter) in a Pamphlet full of scurrility, and not free from Popery, telleth his Auditory a Tale, or a Parable, as he terms it, That the Church of England in the non-age of this latter age, being with child, brought forth her eldest son, the Bishop; who grew apt to learn, and to make a good Scholar; and to him she gave her Lands: Speedilie after she brought to light another boy, the Prebend; and to him she gave goodly houses annexed to Cathedral Churches, and fit pensions: She grew big again, and with more hast then good speed, brought into the world, a poor, weak, rash, dull, simple boy, the poor Curate, accordingly provided. For having already given away Lands and Houses, she gave him freely the Wallet behind the door. Then having for many years laid down her humor of Child-bearing, at length the humor took her again, and she conceived, bore with great pain, and brought forth in a fright, with much trouble and imminent danger of life, her last boy, to whom she gave a most hard Greek name 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . I will not cal it Nomen absoletum (obsoletum, it is like he meant) & velut rubigine infectum, a name grown out of use, and rusty, but confidenter dicam; I will say with courage, (and he had need of some courage or confidence at least, as his Latin sounds rather, to utter so notorious an untruth) that it was never acknowledged before in the pretended sense. His education was mean; for he was not brought up to much learning; yet experience and practice wrought him into a pert, but a most unhappy Knave, in the sense of all English, new and old; one that could act a part notably, and make faces and mouths, &c. This being his Mothers fourth and last child, and having before given her Lands to the first, her Houses to the second, her Wallet to the third; and having nothing left to bestow on him, she left him to shift for himself.

I let pass his scurrility for the present, related only here to present the Reader with a taste beforehand, of what he shall further hear more in the close; only this now. If it be as he saith, that the poor Presbyter is left so needy, nittie, bare, and worse then beggerlie, without House or Land, or so much as a Wallet to go a begging with, but is utterly abandoned by his own parent, and left to the wide world to shift for himself; then sure I, who was never yet (I praise God) acquainted with shifting; what himself hath been, I know not: Tho he report as truly as some other things here, whereof that of the name Presbyter never acknowledged in the pretended sense, til bred and brought forth here: And how do they then, himself among others, fetch the pedigree of it from Geneva? that I should say, He came over hither, with never a penny in his purs. But if it be, I say, as he saith, I surly must needs be either a stark fool, in pretending to Presbyterie, or a stiff and fast friend to that party, or the former rather, because the latter, if preferment and lucre be the end of my pretension, in adhering still so close to it, and pleading so much for it, when it is in so low, bad, bare, base, dejected, and despicable condition, even below the Beggers Wallet.

And thus having dispatched this former scandalous charge, wherein the principal point charged upon me was Profaneness, I shall proceed on to his latter slanderous aspersion, wherein the main matter objected against me, is Covetousness.

That old covetous Churl, saith he, the Parson, Rector, or rather Receiver of the Tithes, Profits, and all Appurtenances of Church duties at Redriff, near London, that is now mute and hath willingly silenced himself from Preaching, receivs Two hundred pounds per annum, and yet Preacheth not for it.

The Noble Emperor before-mentioned, was more careful, as was above related, of clearing himself from the imputation of that most hateful vice of Covetousness, then of any other crime. And I shall accordingly, treading in his steps, take somewhat the more pains herein; reqesting my Readers patience and pardon, if I shall seem to detain him over-long, in relating somewhat more particularly, and a little more largelie, though not so necessarily otherwise, both mine entrance into, continuance in, and receipts from, the places of my set led Ministry, from the first to the last; nor am I sorry, that by this shameless Sycophants palpable slanders, I have occasion given me of rendering some account to the world, of divers passages in my Ministerial employment, whereby it may appear, how free I have ever been from any such fordid disposition.

It was by some ancient Philosophers held, that in every generation or production of ought, there was a 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , a general mixture of the seeds or principles of all things: and of the affection of anger, a grave Author saith, that there is in it 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , a general mixture of the seeds of all other evil affections. But of man's Soul we may truly say, that it is by nature like an untilled soil: as il weeds of all sorts pomiscuously growing in the one, so wicked and corrupt affections of all kinds harboring in the other; so that it may well, not unfidie be termed a 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , a seed-plot, or (if you will) sentina, a sink, and commonsewer of all sorts o • sin. Howbeit, as Seneca also well observs; Stultus omnia vitia habet; sed non in omnia nature â pronus est. Omnia in omnibus vitia sunt: sed non omnia in singulis extant. Omnia omnibus insunt; sed in qibusdam singula eminent. The foolish heart of man though fraught with all manner of vice; yet is not by nature alike prone or addicted to all. All vices, though existent in all, yet are not extant in each one, but some of them are more eminent then the rest in some, and other of them in others. As in a ground untilled, though great variety of weeds, there is usuallie some master weed, someone among the rest, that is rifer and ranker then any of the rest. And as it is in the body of man, that altho in some degree or other, more or les, there be a mixture of all the four humors, not any of them wholly wanting; yet there is someone of them predominant, that gives the domination, in regard whereof some are said to be of a Sanguine, some of a Phlegmatick, some of a Cholerick, and some of a Melancholick Constitution; so is it also in the soul, though there be a general mixture and medlie of all evil, and corrupt qalities; yet is there someone usuallie more powerful and prevalent, that swayeth and showeth forth itself more eminentlie and evidently then any other of them do: and from this therefore, more frequentlie and apparentlie discovering itself, is the denomination wont to be given, whereby some ar styled ambitious, some covetous, some lascivious, some envious, some malicious, some haughty, some hasty, and the like. Yea, according to this consideration, even after the gracious work of regeneration, there remains as a smatch of all sin in some degree or other, so more freqent sproutings out of that master corruption, that bare most sway before, even in the most renewed, and best reformed; as in a piece of ground, even after the best and most accurate tillage, some seeds and roots of those noisome weeds, wherewith it was formerly much pestered, w • l still remain, and will be springing up, be it never so sedulously and assiduously managed. Hence it is, that, not Proclus, or Proculus rather, an old rotten Heretic, as some Popish writers would have it, but Methodius, an ancient Bishop, and valiant Martyr, compares inbred corruption in man's heart to a wild fig-tree growing upon the wall of some goodly Temple or statelie Palace, whereof albeit the main trunk of the stem be broke off, and stump of the root plucked out, yet the fibrous strings of it piercing into the joints of the stone-work will not utterly be extracted, and will be ever anon shooting and sprouting out, until the whole frame of the building be all dissolved, and the stone-work thereof dis-jointed and pulled all to pieces. But of this more elsewhere.

Howsoever therefore, I dare not presume to challenge to myself an immunity from the common condition of all Adams sinful posterity; but must needs acknowledge in myself a general taint, and that a deep one, of all sin whatsoever: Yet for this particular corruption of Covetousnes, wherewith this falls traducer so freqentlie upbraideth me, and so virulentlie chargeth me, I hope, I may in the sight and presence of God truly and sincerely profess, that it, of all other, ever had the least power over me, or in me; And I hope, there are none, that have thoroughlie known me, but will testify for me, how far my courses and carriages have always been from giving cause to suspect in me a mind subject thereunto: Wherein therefore I shall endeavor to clear and approv myself, not to them so much as unto others.

I find in divers Ancient Canons and Councils a restraint of remoovals of Ministers from Charge to Charge. And howsoever I make no question, but that in many cases it may be, not lawful only, but even necessary, in which Cases the Canon saith, Non mutat sedem, qi non mutat mentem. He changeth not his seat, that changeth not his mind. The meaning I suppose is, that he comes not within compass of that change which the Canon inhibites and condemns. I would rather, speaking more plainly, say, as he, Coelum, non animum, so, Sedem, non mentem, mutat, In such cases a man, though he change his Charge, yet may not change his affection, though he retain not still the same seat, yet may he retain still the same mind and disposition; and such changes therefore do not necessarily argu any evil or corrupt habit in the heart; yet freqent removals upon unnecessary occasions have been ever esteemed to have some smatch, as one of the Ancients observs, Aut avaritiae, ant ambitionis; Either of • varice or ambition: And that the rather, saith he, Qia nullus hac in re invent us sit, qi de majore ad minorem transier it; Because never ani • had been found to remov, but from a less place to a greater, from a poorer to a richer. And indeed to remov oft from place to place for some small advantage thereby to be achieved, no other consideration of moment reqiring or enforcing a change, may give just suspicion, either of an unsettled brain, or of a covetous disposition.

Now for mine own part, I cannot be charged to have been faulty in this kind. In two places only have I exercised a settled Ministry for these Two and fifty years, seated Ten years in the one place, and Fourty two in the other.

The former place, wherein I was seated, was the worthy Society of the Professors, Practisers, and Students of the Common Law of this Land in Lincolns Inn. For mine entrance whereunto, that I may not be taxed of ambition for undertaking such a place at so few years, after so famous men, as had with much credit formerly held and discharged it, I shall to free myself from that aspersion, give a true account how I came to it. Having upon some occasion obtained Licence of discontinuance from the College, whereof I was Fellow, from the Earl of Kent, and the Lord Harrington, the Countess of Sussex her Trustees for the founding thereof, and abiding now with Sir William Cook, my Kinsman, at London, the Preachers place at Lincolns Inn became vacant; Whereupon a Gentleman of that House, to me a mere stranger, but of my reverend and inward Friend Mr. Stocks acqaintance, at whose Church he had sometime heard me Preach, together with him repairing to me, acquainted me with the business, encited me to put in for it, assuring me, that by the Lord Chief Justice Pophams mediation, whom he knew to favor me, it might easily be obtained. I was very avers to the motion; albeit, that Mr. Stock also instigated and encouraged me thereunto. But my counter-plea to them both was, That I durst not adventure, so young and raw, to look so high. While we were to and fro debating the business, in that very conjuncture of time, Dr. Montague, Master of the College, being come up to the City about some College affairs, was pleased to vouchsafe me a visit, desirous to draw me back to the College; and telling me, That he had prevailed with the Lord Harrington to allow a Salarie for an Hebrew Lecture, which he would have me to read. But being informed by Mr. Stock, upon what account they were with me, he earnestly pressed it, that I should in no wise refuse it; it would be a grace to the College, to have the first that went out of it, to settle in a place of that note; nor should I need to seek or su for it, or to be seen at all in it: He, being the next day to attend the Lord Popham about a College business, would break the matter to him; which being accordingly performed by him, his Lordship immediately sent his Secretary to the chief of the House; by whom being invited to Preach the next Lord's day with them, I was within few days after chosen their Lecturer. And indeed had it been of mine own seeking, I could hardly have satisfied or justified myself in a spontaneous undertaking of such a charge. For the truth is. I was but young, and seemed younger then indeed I was. In regard whereof, it might not altogether undeservedlie have been deemed of me, that I had flown out of the nest, before I was well fledged; and that it had been better for me, as David willed his Ambassadors returning from the Ammonites, to have stayed at Jericho among the sons of the Prophets, until my Beard had been better grown. Nor may it be amiss here, to recreate my Reader, with a plain Corydons censure, about that time, past on me. Mr. Leigh, afterward Sir James Leigh, and Lord Treasurer, was that year Reader at Lincolns Inn, and having his family in Town, both he and his wife heard me Preach one Lord's day at Martins in the Fields. Whence after return from the Sermon, Mistress Leigh was pleased to ask an old Servant, with whom, by reason of long continuance in the family, they were wont to talk more familiarlie, How he liked the Preacher; who returned her this blunt answer, That he was a pretty pert Boy, but he made a reasonable good Sermon. Not many weeks after Mr. Leigh returning from Lincolns Inn, told his wife, he would tell her some news, That Yong man, said he, whom you heard at St. Martins, is chosen our Lecturer at Lincolns Inn; which the old fellow standing by, when he heard, asked Whether the old Benchers would be taught by such a Boy as he. Howbeit, it pleased God so to dispose of it, that I was courteouslie entertained by them; nor was my youth in contempt with them, but I received as much respect from them as I could desire, yea, much more then I could expect. Which kind and courteous usage tied me so fast to them, (as to such bands may that of him in the Comick be well-applied, Qam magis extendas, tanto adstringunt arctiùs, The more they are let out, the straiter they bind, the stronger and faster they hold.) That they kept me a longer time with them, then any one, yea, then divers put together, that had been before me, had made stay among them. For, as I have been informed, Mr. Cha • k, who is said to have been the first settled constant Preacher at Lincoln Inn, as Dr. Crook at Greys Inn, and Father Lever (for so by my Father, and others, I always heard him styled) at the Temple, continued not above eight year with them; being removed, as was suspected, through the secret undermining of one of prime note then in the House, who upon a private grudge, wrought underhand with the Archbishop for his removal. After him successively followed Mr. Field, Mr. Eglionbie, Mr. Crakenthorp, Mr. Pulley; whose times all put together, ar said scarce to have made up so many years, as amounted to my Ten.

But it may be surm sed, that either the largeness of the allowance, or the want of means to mend myself, kept me so long with them.

Surelie, neither of both. For my Salarie for the first five years or thereabout, was but Fourtie pounds per annum; yet as much as any of my Predecessors had formerly received. Howbeit after, when I married, and had a Family in the City, they raised it to Threescore of their own accord, without any motion of mine; but withal they reqested me to Preach once a day in the Vacation time, when any store of company was in the House; as in the two shorter ones constantly, and in the two longer, until the solemn Readings were over, usuallie there was. That which I also was right-willing to do, making mine abode in the City, whereas formerly I was wont to spend the Vacations with a Knight, my Kinsman, in the Country.

Nor wanted I opportunity more then once or twice, while I staid there, to have mended my means, had I been eagerlie bent, or had but a mind thereunto. For I had places more then two or three offered me, both from Gentlemen in the House, and from others abroad.

First, The Lectureship at the Rolls being vacant, offer was made to me of it from Sir Edward Philip's, then Master of the Rolls, by Sir Robert his Son, and Mr. Whitaker's his Secretary, who both used to hear me; supposing that I might well enough discharge both, being no farther asunder, and but for once a day with either, and that at the Inn at seven in the morning; which I waived, willing to reserv myself wholly to the place where I was. But this was no motion for removal; some addition to my means only: That which followeth was,

After that my Morning Lecture was reduced, or deduced rather, to the ordinary hour in most places, Mr. Masters Master of the Temple (for that Title his place there bare) his own Lecture continuing at the wonted hour, used, after that dispatched, to repair to mine, as I did to Dr. Leyfields at Clements, until that cours was in the Inn altered, as before hath been related. Mean while the Lecturers place falling void at the Temple, he by a wile drew me to Preach one Afternoon on the Week Lecture day there; And shortly after (I little dreaming ought of his intention therein) repaired to me with a motion from some of special note and power there, to remove thither; withal assuring me, that the place would be of double value to me, to what I had where I was. But my Answer to him was, that I would not on any terms shift from one Inn of Court to another.

Much about the same time, that hopeful Prince Henry, whose life in likelihood the sins of this Land, and of those times shortened, keeping his Court at St. James, where abode with him that Mirror of Nobility, the young Lord Harrington, and attended on him that Religious Knight Sir Robert Darcie, these two with some other Gracious Ones of His Graces Court, freqented my Ministry in the Afternoons especially; which for some space of time I then spent in handling of some Points in Controversy between us, and the Papists, being informed that divers Popish Priests, or Sprites, if you please, hanted the House, and were very busy in laboring to pervert the young Gentlemen. The Notes of one of those Sermons Sir Robert Darcie, by mine inward and entire friend, Mr. Bradshaw, got from me, under the Title of The Popes Pride, and Papists Idol. This he and the young Lord imparted to the Prince; and upon such further terms of recommendation, as they were pleased to adjoin, and his good opinion of me, as they conceived, thereby produced, they took the boldness by my worthy Friend Mr. Hildersham, and Mr. Jacob joining with him, to solicit me to come and Preach one day before the Prince at his Court; not doubting to prevail with him to bring me in to be his Chaplain, and by the assistance of Bishop Montague, then in favor with the King his Father, to procure for me that place of constant attendance in that kind about him, that was sometime designed to Mr. John Burgess, had not the design miscarried by a Sermon which he preached before the King, and cost him much trouble. Unto which motion, I desired by them to be returned, after thankful acknowledgment of deep engagement to those worthy persons, for their good opinion of me, and affection to me, That as I deemed myself unworthy of so great a favor, so I well knew myself very unfit for such an employment, being naturally of a very bashful disposition, and finding in myself a great indisposition and averseness to Courtlie attendance, and reqested therefore of them, that no motion or mention might be further made of ought in that kind.

Among others of note that were there my frequent Auditors, by reason of the Vicinitie of his House in Holborn, was the Right Honorable Lord Rich, Father to the present Right Honorable Earl of Warwick, whose freeness and conscientiousness in the donation and disposal of such Ecclesiastical places as he had interest in, is to all that knew him not unknown. In his gift a living of good valu being vacant, which after one Dr. Tabor, Dr. Harris enjoyed, notice was given to me of it, with signification that I might have it, if I would accept of it, but my answer was, That I desired not to undertake a Pastoral Charge, nor to leave Lincolns Inn. And indeed the times under King James, contrary • o expectation, and to what most men, though on weak grounds (as to me 〈…〉 er seemed) promised unto themselves, especially after that formal Conference at Hampton Court, proving more troublesome, then formerly they had been, made me the rather willing to rest contented with a small portion in a privileged place, then by removing to a place of larger revenue, to attract more distraction, and expose myself to the hazard of greater disturbance. In reference to this refusal, that Noble Lord, being present at a Sermon at Lincolns Inn, wherein I took my leave of them, being then upon departure (though constrained afterward for some unexpected occasion to stay a Term, or two longer) demanded of some of the Ancients of the House, among whom he there sat, Whether I were leaving them; as marvelling, how my mind came to be changed from that which I had formerly professed.

During the time of mine abode there, there lived much in the House, not as Practitioners in the Law, but as Associates with the Bench, two worthy Knights of eminent parts for variety of learning and reading, Sir Roger Owen, and Sir William Sidley; and I was for their entire affection much beholden to them both. Sir R. Owen would gladly had me seated in Shropshire, where my Father was born in an ancient House, the name whereof our Family beareth, being allied unto most of the ancient Gentry in that County; wherein also a Living of good revenue was offered me by a Merchant, that Contrey-man by birth, in the City, if I would have gone to it. But Sir W. Sidley was very desirous rather to draw me down into Kent, and to that purpose, a great Living, not far from the place of his chief residence, falling void by the Incumbents decess, though being not in his own gift, but in the gift of one, whom he had special interest in, presuming thereupon, he offered to procure it for me. This motion to waiv, when I alleged my loathnes to leave Lincolns- Inn; he replied, that his intent was not, that I should leave my place there; that in Kent would afford means to maintain an Assistant, who might for the Term time discharge all there, while I was employed here. But I told him, the burden between both would be too heavy for my infirm shoulders to bear. And so that business broke also off.

Men that are of a free and ingenuous disposition, are wont to conceive (according to that of the Mimik,

that they receive a benefit themselves, in doing others a pleasure. That which even a cruel Tyrann (though in all likelihood dissemblinglie) professed sometime in these words; 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . In giving to good men, I make account that I receive a greater courtesy by much from them, then I bestow upon them; And that truly noble-minded Emperor, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , that a benefit rightly bestowed was no less advantageous to him that gav it, then to him that received it. And no marvel then if with such 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , It is a pleasure to do a pleasure, and a delight to exercise themselves in well-doing; Yea, as an ancient grave Autor, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , It is a more cheerful thing to do good, then to have good done one: and the inward joy of the mind is greater, more pure, more immixt in that, then in this; Since that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , there is some kind of bashfulness oft in receiving, but mere cheerfulness with such in giving. And on the other side, hence it comes to pass, which the same Autor also observes, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , t 〈…〉 t as it is matter of much joy and gladness to them, when their gift is received, and their kindness accepted, as it is with an Archer, desirous to show his skil in shooting, when he hath hit the white or cloven the peg; because they do 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , as that Noble Emperor speaks, that is, as Seneca expresseth it, dare ut dent, or, ut ne non dederint, their main aim in giving, is, that they may have given, in doing a courtesy, that they may have done one a good turn; so, because that cannot be, unless the gift be received, and their kindness accepted, it is no less matter of grief unto them, and they ar wont to take it ill, when it so falleth out, that their gift is rejected, their kindness refused; as it is in such case to the archer, when he misseth the mark he shot at; (that which made the Indian, reported to Alexander to be so expert in that faculty, that he could at a great distance shoot thorough a narrow Ring, refuse before the King to show his skil, though his life lay upon it, fearing, lest through disuse, he might fail in the design) because they miss of that which was their main aim and end in that their assay, not taking effect according to their desire, to do the party a pleasure. And thus indeed it fared with that Noble and Noble-minded Knight Sir W. S. before mentioned, who acquainting some of the Bench with what had passed between him and me, he seemed to them to relate it not without some show and semblance of reg 〈…〉 and offense, as not so well resenting my refusal of his so free and kind offer; that which I was informed of by Mr. Tho. Hitchcock one of the Bench, and of those to whom he had broken his mind concerning that business; and who merrily afterward in familiar discourse was pleased to put the fool upon me for it. For being a man of a pleasant wit, at the Table sometime disposed to be merry (as his manner oft, but without offense, was) upon occasion of such discourse as came in the way, he told those his fellow-Benchers that were in the same Messe with him, that he had in his Study a Book called the Ship of Fools, and that they should all three of them go into it, one for refusing a large fee offered him in a great man's cause, which he liked not, another, for returning his Clients Fee, having waited at the Bar; when the Cause could not be heard; a third for some other such like matter, which I now remember not; and being demanded by one of them concerning me, being in the same Mess, whether I were therein to bear them company too: Yes, (quoth he) he must in upon a double account; First, He sits here among us, and takes a great deal of pains with us for a small consideration, and being by Sir W. S. offered a far better Place elsewhere, he refuseth to accept it, when it may be he may sit long enough here, ere he have the like offer made him again; and again, what he here receivs he lays out in Books, and cannot read over the one half of them, when he hath done. To the latter whereof, I replied merilie, waving the former, that a Workman that makes use of many Tools, must buy some to lie by him, though scarce in seven year he have use of them, that he may have them at hand when he shall need them, and may otherwise hardly get them elsewhere. And if Mr. Lily shall think good to put me into the ship, for taking so much pains to wash myself from his groundless espersions, I shall not be angry with him for it, nor troubled at all with it.

Divers of these both offers and refusals were not unknown to the Body of the Bench, who therefore at one of their meetings, some speech falling in concerning me, by joint consent agreed to take a cours for the procuring of a Prebendship for me either at Paul's or Westminster; for the effecting whereof, Mr. Attorney General, Sir Henry Hobart, undertook to make use of his utmost power, when opportunity should be; as also for the providing of one, in room of their old Reader entertained to be Dr. Whites Curate at Dunstans, that might ease me of my pains with them in the Vacations; which to encourage my stay with them, they caused Mr. Rondolf Crew, afterward Lord Chief Justice of the Kings Bench, to give notice of to me; and withal to testify their affection to me, admitted and entered me in their Leagier Book as a Member of the Society; which to some of my Predecessors in the place had not been done. The latter indeed of their resolutions took not its desired effect, through the humorous disposition of one that was recommended unto them; but was afterward effected for those that succeeded me. The former could not so sudainly be compassed; and my removal prevented the accomplishment of it; that which I am not sorry for.

Much about the same time, my time came in the University, for taking the Degree of Doctor in Divinity: which being known in the House, divers of the Ancients with whom I was most familiar, incited me to the undertaking of it; alleging that it might be a step for me to further preferment, or (as other some phrased it) a stirrup to help up into the Saddle; which mention of the Saddle might well have minded me of what one in the Greek Comik speaking to an old man, that would needs be a Cavalier, saith,

that he did not wisely, nor advisedlie, in listing himself in a Regiment of hors, and getting up into the Saddle before he had got skil to manage his Hors well, that he might sit sure in the Saddle. But to encourage me hereunto, they assured me, that the House would no doubt contribute liberallie toward the charge of my Commencement; withal relating what they had sent as a gratuity to Dr. King, when he took that Degree, because the House stood part of it in his Parish, and divers of them used to hear him, and he was wont before he was Dean of Christ's-Church in Oxford, to bestow a Sermon once or twice a year upon them, as he did also twice at two solemn Festivals in my time, when he was Bishop. But I told them merilie, They must first make me a Doctor-like maintenance, ere I would take the degree of Doctor; that threescore pounds a year would not maintain that state, that the Degree of a Doctor required. And being afterwards by some of my friends blamed for letting slip that opportunity, and some others, wherein the Degree might have been had, with more ease and less charge then ordinary, as at the time of His Majesty's visiting the University, what time were divers created Doctors without attendance to keep Acts; and not many years after, when the plague was hot in the Town there, not a few, that would adventure thither, obtained the Degree, without wonted performance of Acts, or usual charge of entertainment: Unto them I made answer, That if ever I took the Degree of Doctor, I would so do it, as that I would not be styled either a Royal, or a Pestilential Doctor; which by names were in common speech given unto those that had taken that Degree, at either of those times. As also to others, who demanded of me, why I took it not together with three other of my Reverend Brethren here about the City, coming short of me all more or less in age, and in our University standings much more, all three now at length deceased before me; I returned answer then as merilie, that I was of that Old Romans mind, who used to say, He would rather have people, when he was gone, enqire why he had no statu set him up, then why he had any; So I would rather have men hereafter demand a Reason, why I took not the Degree, then to mov question why I did. As also, according to that of the Philosopher, who being urged by his Mother to marry, when as yet but young, told her, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , it was not time yet; and again pressed by her, when further in years, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , it was past time then: To some that many years after renewed the former motion to me, I returned, That I was now superannated, and having waived the Degree, when I might have had it at thirty five, would not now sure seek or look after it at threescore. At which year also giving over mine Anniversarie Visitation of the Free-School at Tunbridge, which (at the reqest of the Worshipful Society of Skinners in London, the careful and faithful Trustees of Sir Andrew Jud, the Founder thereof) I had constantly for many years together discharged, in taking my leave of them, I told them, that being now Sexagenarius, I might by future repair thither, run the hazard of being Depontanus, or De ponte dejectus, as men of those years ancientlie were at Rome.

But I digress to far, and yet these digressions as analecta qaedam scattered here and there by the way, I suppose will not be unpleasing to a Reader of no over-rigid and unpleasant Disposition, nor offensive, I hope, to any.

But, e diverticulo in viam, to return again into the road. By what hath been related, concerning the means of my maintenance at Lincolns Inn, but withal, the courteous entertainment there constantly afforded me; it may appear, that it was neither the largeness of the stipend that staid me so long with them, nor yet any disrespect, or discontent, that moved me, as some before me, to leave them.

For the truth is, for mine Auditory there, the generality of them, were not a people that affected change, either novelty or variety; but rested well-satisfied with my constant cours and tenor of teaching; and very seldom therefore brought in any to Preach in my room; in so much (I may truly say it) that scarce above Twelv Sermons in all my Ten years with them, were preached there by any beside myself. Nor were they addicted to stray much abroad, one or two taken much with Dr. King, then Dean of Christ-Church in Oxford, and Parson of St. Andrew's in Holborn, used to repair thither to hear him, when they knew that he preached; and some few would now and then step to Paul's Cross. Among whom that pleasant Gentleman before spoken of, though it were not freqent with him, being missed one day at Chapel by some of those that used there to fit near him, and coming late into the Hall at dinner, and being thereupon demanded by one of them, where he had been straying abroad; I have been, qoth he, at Paul's Cross. Thou wentest thither sure to hear some news, said the other: No truly, replied he, I went upon another occasion; but I learned that indeed there, which I never heard of before, how the Ass came by his long ears; for the Preacher there told us a story out of a Jewish Rabbin, that Adam after he had named the Creatures, called them one day again before him, to try whether they remembered the names that he had given them; and having by name cited the Lion, the Lion drew near to him, and the Hors likewise, but then calling to the Ass in like manner, the Ass having forgotten his name, like an Ass stood stone still; whereupon Adam having beckoned to him with his hand, so soon as he came within his reach, caught him with both hands by the ears, and plucked him by them so shrewdlie, that for his short wit he gave him a long pair of ears. Upon this story told them, one of them told him, he was well enough served for his gadding abroad; he might have heard better and more useful matter, had he kept himself at home. But this by the way, not to lengthen, but to lighten the tediousness of this long discourse, undertaken not so much to repress Lilies lying tongue, as to render an account of my courses, for better satisfaction both to others, and to myself.

But if neither enlargement of means drew me, nor discontent from mine Auditory drave me away from them, what was it then that either caused or occasioned my removal? This also I shall truly and sincerely relate. The Rectorie of Rotherhith, or as it is commonly called Rederith, becoming vacant by the decease of the Incumbent, there was some stickling in the Parish about a Successor. For the legal right to present being presumed to rest in two Orphans, though it was afterward discovered to reside in a third party, divers of the better affected in the Parish began to negotiate with the Guardian and Friends of those two children under years, and from them having obtained a promise, that none should be presented to it, but such an one as they should nominate, repaired unto me, and were earnest with me, that I would accept of it. But I acquainted them with my resolution of not leaving the place where I was; whereupon they departed, and made trial of bringing in some other. But in prosecution thereof, they found the passage so obstructed, that they were not able to proceed.

For a person of no parts, but of very scandalous life, while the Doctor Incumbent lay sick, had been tampering with the same parties, with whom they were then dealing, before them, about the sale of the Patronage, and the Mother of the Orphans had received somewhat as a gratuity from him, to deal with them and their Guardian, to bring the business about. And albeit, that the Incumbent dying, ere ought was transacted, the negotiation in regard of any power to present that could thereby accrue unto him, if they had proceeded then therein with him, would have been of no effect; and the money were returned him, that the Mother had taken of him; Yet he persisted in pursuit of a troublesome suit, to draw them to some agreement with him, whereupon he might be presented by them, being underhand backed and fed with money by two Tenants of Sir H. Hobart, then Attorney General to King James, who occupied a great qantitie of Land held from him in the Parish, and had covenanted with that party to have it tithe free, if he were once possessed of it. The difficulty was much improved by a Caveat they found entered in the Bishops Office, by a Gentleman, one of the Petti-Bag, who pretended a Title; as also for that Mr. Attorney solicited by his Tenants, and not well understanding what manner of fellow he was whom they dealt for, did in their behalf somewhat countenance their proceedings, and was indeed desirous himself to deal for the Patronage, having much Land in the Parish, with intent in some future vacancy, thereby to have opportunity of preferring a young Scholar, who was then School-master in his Family. Those well-minded persons therefore, fearing that either that scandalous party would be obtruded upon them, or some other might chop in, while they were bickering with him; as it had fallen out in a former vacancy, wherein one by a wrong title got in, and held the place full two years ere he could be ejected; and supposing withal, that if I would accept of it, Mr. Attorney would not only surcease to countenance the other party in that business, but would also help to clear the way for my entrance; repaired to Mr. Stock, whom they knew to be inward with me, reqesting him to deal with me, and persuade me to embrace the motion by them formerly made to me. Who thereupon tendering the condition of the place, accompanied them to me, and was very earnest with me in it, pressing hard, what a miserable estate that people were likely to be in upon my refusal, whereas they where I then was, were able enough to furnish themselves again, to their own contentment upon my removal. At his importunity, upon such grounds seconding and backing their suit, I condescended so far forth, as to make an assay to try how Mr. Attorney would resent the business, and how far forth he would interpose in it. To this purpose I made use of Mr. Crew, afterward Lord Cheif Justice, a man of tried and known integrity, to break the matter to him. Unto whom his answer was, That he would do anything in his power, that should be to my content, and willed that I should come to him. So I did, and told him, that I had upon a motion made to me from some Inhabitants of Rederith, engaged myself to come to them, and settle with them, if the passage were free, the clearing whereof they supposed might depend much upon him. Who, after some Speech had, how glad he should have been of my continuance with them, and in part blaming himself, that nothing had yet been done for the enlargement of my means, If they mean, said he, really, as they pretend, and you deem it may be behooveful for you, let them procure you a presentation, and upon sight of it, you shall see what I will do. This being signified to them, they having by some counsel been informed, that albeit the Father had by will beqeathed the perpetual Advocation to his younger Sons, yet the right thereof by cours of Law rested in the Eldest, which for some causes was as yet deemed fit to conceal, drew him to join with his Brethren, and brought me a Presentation under the Hands and Seals of them all three; which being represented to Mr. Attorney, he forthwith wrote a Letter to the Bishop, whereby all obstructions were removed, and I admitted without further ado to the place. After it was noised in the House, that I was upon removal, divers of them repaired to me, of whom some out of their private, offered to engage themselves for such a further supplement, to what I there then received, as should eqal the Revenue of the place motioned to me; others endeavored to persuade me to retain the place still, being for the Term time only; to which purpose also some of my Reverend Brethren in the Ministry were instant with me. But to the former I answered, That I had passed my word to come to them, and that upon other grounds then means of maintenance only; to the other, That the burden would be too weighty for me: And truly soon I so found and felt, being compelled to continue but a Term or two with them, until they were fitted to their mind. Howsoever divers of those that succeeded me, held other places together with it, some in the University, and some in the City; and indeed my Reverend Father-in-Law Mr. Charles Pinner, whose Daughter I was to marry, by all means dissuaded me from hearkening unto those that would have persuaded me thereunto, affirming, That either place required a whole man. Who was also right glad, that by my removal I had escaped the promised preferment to a Prebendarie; nor was he sorry, when he understood, that Mr. Attorney had proffered me the Title of being his Chaplain; which I willingly accepted, being but a titular matter, reqiring no constant attendance, only a visit now and than, and a Sermon sometime upon some special occasions, the rather that by his power and countenance, I might sit the more qietlie, and exercise my Ministry more freely, in such a place especially, where he had Lands of much value, and Tenants deemed to be of the greatest ability; but my Reverend Father in Law, because it might, he said, Keep me from being Chaplain to any Bishop; for he used to say, That as the times then were, a Prebends place, and a Bishops Chaplainship, were two shrewd snares: Both which, I bless God for it, I hereby escaped.

Nor indeed were my means so much, as many imagined, improved by removal to the place where as yet I abide, and have now for full forty and two years resided. For besides that I came to a dwelling house wilfultie much mangled and defaced by the late Incumbents Widow, out of mere spite and spleen, not so much against him that was to succeed, being then uncertain, as against some of the Parish, with whom her Husband had had much contention, and the Wharf before it (a chargable piece) ready to drop down; toward the charge whereof albeit some two or three contributed somewhat, yet the main matter came out of mine own purs; and the first fruits that were to be paid; as also that the main Fabric of the Church supported with Chalkie Pillars, of such a bulk as filled up no small part of the room, and were found very faulty, threatening a fail, if not a fall, unless speedily prevented, to the ruin of the whole; which to remov and place strong Timber Columns in the room of them, would prov a very great charge; albeit, the repair of the Body of the Church were no way chargable upon the Rector, yet to encourage others to a freer and larger contribution thereunto, I launched out of mine own accord so far, having as yet received little benefit of my place, that none out-went me, few to speak of came near me. Add hereunto, that not long after this a ship firing on the River, just against my house, much endangered it, being covered, as from its first building it had been, with Reed; which to prevent the like hazard that might, (as it did also some time) after ensu, I therefore took away, and instead thereof (which was no small charge to me) covered it all over with Tile. These things, I say, set aside, which yet shrewdlie drained my small stock, because they were not a constant charge; come we to the Annual Revenue in either place, and see what addition was made by this latter to the former. In the place that I left, I received Threescore pounds by the year clear: In the place I came to, finding it a troublesome business to take up Tithes, being paid, except some four of the Parish, by Butchers and Grasiers mostlie, living either in the Borough, or in the City, I let out my whole Tithe and Gleab for One hundred pounds by the year. Whence deducting the Annual payments of Tenths and Subsidies to the King, the Procurations to the Bishop and Arch-deacon, the Assessments for the poor, wherein I was rated as deep as any in the Parish, for his personal estate, the yeerlie Salarie to the Curate whom I found in the place, the same that the Doctor had before allowed him, which, though in regard of his mean parts I could have in my teaching, no help or ease from him; yet in respect of his poverty, having a Wife and Children, I was fain for divers years to continue unto him, until he could furnish himself with some place elsewhere, and when he left me, larger means to one of better abilities, from whom I might have some assistance in the work of my Ministry. These disbursements, I say, deducted, and laid altogether, the improvement, I suppose, will appear to have been no such great matter.

And this was the main matter that I enjoyed here for Ten years together; not receiving ought of constant payment from the main Body of the Parish, save from some three or four for the Land that they held. There had indeed been ancientlie a Rent-tithe paid upon the houses; as in the neighboring Parishes also then was, and still is: And that even then also, as by the Church-Book appeared, under some not-preaching Ministers, when the Inhabitants besides that payment were fain to maintain one to Preach with them at their own charge. But this had been intermitted, and my Predecessor, after some years enjoyment of it, by his own miscarriage of the business, put beside it. For there falling o • t much contention between him, and some of the chief of the Parish, they set some of the poorer sort on work to deny him payment thereof. Whom he thereupon sued in the Ecclesiastical Court, and made proof there by sufficient witnesses of the constant payment of it, for above Threescore years past. But when sentence was ready to pass, a Prohibition came out of the Common Pleas. Whither the business being transferred, the Doctor not well advised, joined issu amiss with them, and so being cast in the Suit, was debarred from recovery of ought for himself, though it were no bar unto any his Successor.

For Ten years it thus lay asleep or dead rather after his decease, and mine access to the place. Nor did I receive a penny all that while in lieu of it, from the main body of those among whom I constantly exercised my Ministry. But having sat so long qietlie, and my charge increasing; and being informed of a Record in the First-fruits Office, whereby it appeared, that in the valuation of my Rectorie, taken upon Oath in King Henry the Eighths time, the Tithe on Houses was included as a third part of its valu at a certain rate, according to which valuation I paid my yeerlie Tenths to the King for it; I made a motion to my people, that since it was agreeable to conscience and eqitie, that the Minister of the Word, who took pains constantly in the exercise of his Ministry with a people, ought to receive a constant maintenance and consideration for it from them; And that, as I conceived, even by the Law of the Land, such a particular consideration was du unto me, and had from time to time been made good to my Predecessors; My reqest therefore was, That I might without suit, or trouble, either to them, or myself, with mutual love and agreement, receive it, or somewhat in an eqitable manner proportionable to it. To this the answer of the most was, That for myself they were well content, and willing to do somewhat that way; but they knew not who might come after me, and were loath therefore to oblige themselves to ought as a du.

While thus the business hung in suspense, and nothing done, good words only given, that seemed to be as a dilatorie plea; some of the better affected, moved, that without breach of Charity, or offense taken on either side, a Trial at Law might be had, in a peaceable and amicable proceeding, whereby the right of the demand might appear what it was, and either side rest in the issu thereof. To this purpose a • uit was set on foot by a Bil in the Excheqer Chamber; Wherein it was evidently shown, and in a fair and solemn hearing made to appear, That such a Tithe as was before-mentioned, was du to the Rector of Rederith; as also it was discovered, (which Mr. Noy then but a young Lawyer, pleading in my behalf, so cleared, that all the Barons▪ to the Lord Treasurer, reqiring their opinion therein, attested that he was in the right) that the Doctor, my Predecessor, had miscarried in his suit by joining issu amiss, and the judgment therefore given against him, nothing concerned us, our plea being on a divers ground. Upon the cause thus heard, a Decree was passed, to put me in Possession of the Tithe upon the Rents of Houses, as in other the Neighbor Parishes it had been, was then, and is still paid. Howbeit, when it came to be demanded, some being willing to pay, and some refusing, to prevent further suits, that might after arise, it was by mutual consent on both sides agreed, that the business should be referred to certain Arbitrators on either side chosen, and what was by them concluded, should by a new Decree in the same Court be confirmed; which was accordingly done, and an Agreement so made and ratified, that in lieu of Tith on Houses, Fortie pounds should be paid me yeerlie by Ten pounds a qarter, to be assessed upon the wealthier sort of Inhabitants, the poorer people being spared, and to be gathered by the Church-Wardens for the time being, and by them qarterlie paid in to me. Which yet for the most part came short more or less every qarter, as by my Receipts may appear. And this, when fully paid, added to the former, was the greatest sum that I yeerlie received all the time of mine Incumbencie; which yet comes nothing near to that, which this man's slanderous tongue says I receive. And I may truly and boldly avow it, That during all the time of mine abode in this place, what in maintenance of my Family, (nor was either myself or any of mine ever noted for excess, either in daintiness of fare, or in costliness of attire) in affording a competency to an able Assistant for me in the Work of my Ministry, (whereof three of eminent parts have within these few years, not long one after another deceased, and some other yet survive) and • o a young Scholar to write out divers things for me, whereof some lie still by me, and some are abroad; in enlarging of my House, which was somewhat scantie, (but is now very near as large again as I found it, as may be guessed by the number of Chimneys in it, which were no more than four, when I came to it, the Doctor making only a Summer-House of it, and ar now no less then twelv) for the more convenient lodging of mine Assistant and Scribe, and a Student one or two, such of our own Country as had left the University, and were fitting themselves for the Ministry; or Strangers, that from foreign parts came over, to learn our Language, and observe our Method of Teaching, (whereof I was seldom without some, and might have had more, had my House been more capacious) and gaining a room of more capacity for the bestowing of my Librarie; in reparations of my dwelling House, and the Wharf before it, which was no small charge; in furnishing of myself with Books, which to a Scholar and Minister at as the tools of his trade; in relief of the poor, wherein I shall spare to speak what I added voluntarily in a constant cours (besides what upon emergent occasions) unto that I was assessed; in these and the like put together, with what went to the higher Powers, Civil and Ecclesiastical, as before; I spent, Communibus annis, one year with another, all that ever I received in right of my Rectorie, as by proof sufficient I could make to appear.

Yet neither did I want opportunity to have enlarged and advanced my Means, while I abode here; no more then I did, before I came hither.

I had not sat many years here, when Dr. Featlie coming to abide in the Archbishops House at Lambeth, offered me in way of exchange for this, a place of far greater value then it, though more remote, because mine nearer at hand; To whom I made answer, That here I was fixed, and desired not removal, and that the vicinitie of it to the place of my Nativitie, made me the rather to affect it.

That which I shall add, is a matter of no great moment; yet men covetouslie-minded, ar ready to catch at, and lay hold on ought that may seem any way advantageous, that may bring in gain, though never so small, and add ought to the heap; they ar wont to have that of the old Epik oft in their mouths, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , That light gains makes heavy purses. From Dr. Winnith, Dean of Paul's, by Mr. Cooper of Thomas Apostles, his Allie, was the Lecture at Paul's offered me upon Dr. Days leaving it, it being but on the week day, and for the Term time only; and I could, if need were, name the man, who having two Pastoral charges in the City, yet had not refused it, but undertook it, and held it to his dying day; but my Answer was, That I found work enough at home for my weakness to wield well: And he found me▪ very weak indeed at his access to me; but it was in the long Summer Vacation; and he doubted not, but I might recover strength enough ere the Lecture was to begin; but I to waived it.

Nor did I want means of attaining further preferment by the favor of Bishop Montague, Master formerly of the College whereof I had been Fellow; who also, when I visited him now and then, being become our Diocesan, would ask me, why I came not about some place of preferment, supposing as he said, my means here not to be great, and that I lived in an obscure corner. And I remember, that being called over by the Lord Cheif Justice of the Common Pleas, to whom, as before was said, I had some relation, lying then very sick, and reqested to stay a Sabbath day with him, I heard at the public Assemblie in the forepart of the day, Dr. Donne one of my Successors at Lincolns-Inn, then lately preferred to the Deanrie of Paul's; When after my return from the Sermon, his Lordship having demanded of me whom I had heard? you see, said he; how some of your Successors rise, and why do not you seek for some Prebend at least? which he supposed might be with no great difficulty attained, withal intimating a forwardness still to be employed on any occasion in that kind, whensoever opportunity were offered, as well as while I was at Lincolns-Inn with them; Unto whom I sincerely and seriously then professed, that might I but qietly hold and enjoy what in the place of my present abode I had, I could, and (as I supposed) did live, as comfortably and contentedlie, if not more, then most, not of the Prebends or Deans only, but of the Bishops also, even the Archbishop himself not excepted. And truly what the Heathen man sometime, speaking in his Heathenish style and tone, said,

the same with some small alteration may I say of myself, that I acknowledge it oft as a favor of God, animi angusti at{que} pusilli qod fecerit, that he was pleased to frame me, not of an haughty, bold, cut-stretching, and self-confiding spirit; but of a low, bashful, straitened, self-diffiding, and in some sort pusillanimous disposition; For I suppose that this my native frame hath been a means (God so disposing it) to keep me from such undertakings, as might bring with them grievous inconveniences, and expose to sore temptations, which otherwise I might have been subject unto, and peradventure foiled with; and which the lower I kept, and the les I looked after great matters, the les was I endangered to be assalted with, and to fall by, as I observed in my time not a few to have done, to their scandal some, to their utter overthrow others; while their very raising proved their ruin. Upon which consideration, neither did I ever make, or desire to make any further use, either of the Bishop my constant friend's favor, save to keep myself and mine Assistants free from such undu molestations, as Ministers in those times were subject unto; or of that my deservedlie much honored Patrons power, either while he was Attorney General, or Lord Cheif Justice, save for the procuring of the qiet enjoyment of a few Tenements in Rederith, purchased with some moneys which I had in marriage with my wife, being therein disturbed by a busy fellow, as also divers others of my neighbors were, who groundleslie sought to find flaws in our estates, and drew monie from other of them; and for the restoring of me to my liberty, and free use of my Ministry, (when for a short time I had been imprisoned in the Fleet, whence, in the Kings absence I was released by the Right Honorable Earl of Manchester then President of the Privy Council, through the mediation of S • r Charles Montague, Brother both to him and the Bishop then decessed; and afterward by his Majesty's special command for a longer time confined to my house, and so restrained from my Pastoral employment, in reference to an Epistle, or Preface prefixed to Mr. Eltons Catechism published after his decesse, in which business others far greater then myself, even the Archbishop himself, were aimed at) which yet by his intervention with some great ones near about his Majesty, was effected in my behalf.

It is commonly said of such as are greedy of the world, that they desire to gripe more then they ar well able to grasp, and are ready to undertake more then they ar able to undergo, or to go thorough with. And men of aspiring minds and spirits, ar wont to be over forward, either to obtrude themselves into, when they cannot otherwise be compassed, or to embrace. when they ar tendered to them by others, such places as ar of respect and repute, albeit they find and know themselves altogether unfit and unable to discharge them. Yea, it is observed by a grave Autor, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , that each one usuallie, is the first and greatest flatterer of himself; & that other folks flatteries could never fasten upon men, if men did not in the first place flatter themselves, and were willing therefore to be flattered by others. Yea, so far doth th • s desire of repute, above truth or desert, prevail with persons so affected, that other men's votes and opinions of them, either fawninglie feigned to sooth them up in their vain fancies and fond conceits of themselves, or really and sincerely, according to their apprehensions and opinions, but erroneous and groundless, concerning them and their endowments, conceived and expressed do so bewitch them & work them to such an over-weening & over-valewing of themselves that they deem themselves worthy of, and fit for any place or employment of reputation and credit, though their wants and weaknesses well weighed might easily inform them the contrary. Had I therefore been either covetouslie affected, or ambitiouslie minded, I would never have resused (as conscious to my genius its aversnes to, and spirits unfitness for such a place, I did) the Hedship of one of the principal Colleges in that University, whereof I was sometime a Member, being as it is well known, while I sat in the Assemblie at Westminster, both freely offered, and designed me by that Noble Earl of Manchester, who had then the disposal of such places there in his power, and eagerlie with much importunity urged by divers of my Reverend Brethren of the Assemblie, and the Heds of other Houses, (which some of them yet surviving ar able to testify) to accept of it, alleging, when I pretended mine unfitness for such a place and employment, that of my abilities and fitness for it others must judge; It being a place both for repute and Revenew so far beyond this that I here held, and being put to my choice, whether I would leave this for that, or keep this still with that, as some others then did, and so yet do; (and that one among others, who preacheth against taking of Tithes, as one mark of a falls Teacher, when yet he either exacts, or at least receiveth Tithes himself, and against Universities remanding them back to the pit of darkness from whence they came (saith he) at first, when as himself holds the Hedship of a College in the University, and receivs the maintenance belonging to it.) Yea, myself sometime persuaded one of those that succeeded me, advising therein with me, upon some important considerations, as I conceived them, to do that which myself yet refused, and durst not do.

To draw this long Discours then to a brief sum, by what hath hitherto been related, it may easily appear, how far I have been from giving any just ground for Lily or any other to charge me with, or suspect me of, a mind covetouslie affected, or ambitiouslie disposed, either by oft flitting from place to place, or by taking and holding divers places together, (which either yet in some cases, I doubt not, but a man lawfully may do) or by exacting with extremity, what hath been du to me. Whereof further yet more anon.

But my mind, it seems, is altered with my years; and I am grown more gripple and covetous, at least, in mine old age, then formerly I have been; And it is true indeed, that Avarice is commonly deemed, Morbus 〈…〉 senum proprius, The peculiar vice of old age. And the Philosopher therefore makes it one of the Characters of Old Men, that they ar 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , illiberal and close-fisted; yea, the Old Man in the Scene confesseth as much,

For other matters men by age grow wiser; but this one vice old age brings with it, that it makes men generally more wordly then is meet. It is reported by Ammian, that Julian the Emperor was wont to say, Fiscus ut lien, That the Excheqer in the State, was as the Spleen in the Body: When it grew great, the main Body grew less. And some other, though I remember not who, have said of pride, Fast us ut lien, fastus ut fiscus, Pride in the Mind, is as the Excheqer in the State, as the Spleen in the Body. When other Vices ar decayed, then Pride useth to get head; yea, it feeds upon, and gains growth by the decay of other Vices. But what they say of Pride, the same others of Avarice; hither drawing that of the Apostle, where he compares this evil affection to a root, Qia ut radix hyeme vim succum{que} retinet, cum reliqae plantarum partes vigorem viroremque amiserint, saith that learned Scot: Because, as the root in Winter retains its sap and force, when the other parts of the plant have lost all their wonted vigor and verdure: So this vice in old age, which the Ancients call 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Hyemem vitae, the Winter of man's life, retains its force and strength, when other vices become more invalid and less vigorous. For, as the same Autor well, Libidinis ignis paulatim extinguitur, & cum senectute consenescit: At avaritia augescit continue • , & cum senectute juvenescit, qando vitia senescunt reliqa. The heat of lustfulness abates by degrees, and waxeth old with old age; whereas Avarice is still growing, as some say of the Crocodile, and in old age is young and lusty: Et in frigidis senibus vehementius inardescit; Yea, in cold old-men burns hottest, saith Austin; And when prosuseness and looseness cease, then this corruption of covetousness begins to creep in. So that, howsoever it be a thing contrary to reason, saith that famous Orator, Qo minus viae, eo plus viatici, For a man to encumber himself with larger provisions, the less way he hath to go; And a strange madness, saith that Ancient Father, for a man to be then most eager of scraping and gathering goods together, when he is soonest to leave them; and to endeavor with most travel to lay on load, when he is nearest to his journeys end. Yet, it seems, this mad folly and unreasonable affection hath, among many other, surprised and seized on Mr. G. that like those of whom Plutarch speaks, who ar of the mind, That unless they add daily to the heap of what already they have, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , they shall want meat to feed them while they live, and money to bu • y them when they ar dead: So he, though he be, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , in vespera vitae, in the evening of his life; yea, as Empedocles, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , ad occasum, at the very Sun-set; 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , Pedem alterum in capulo, or as we use to speak, In sepulcro, habens, And have one foot in the Coffin, or in the Grave already; yet as the Proverb hath it of the Athenians, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , Atheniensis moriens porrigit manum, An Athenian can put out his hand to take money, even when he lies adying: So (it seems) is it with him; he is now grown more gripple and greedy of the world then ever. For whereas heretofore, when he did most, and had most, he neither required, nor received more then an hundred and forty pounds yeerlie; now the old covetous Churl, when he hath willing lie silenced himself from Preaching, he exacteth and receiveth Two hundred pounds per annum from his people, and yet preacheth not at all for it. For so this lying Sycophant most untrulie affirms.

Where first a word or two concerning my willful silencing myself, after that of my Receipts. It is well known that in the year 1643. I was called to sit in the Assemblie of Divines, and others of either House at Westminster. Where notwithstanding the remoteness of my place, for above two years and upward, I attended as constantly as any other of the Assemblie; and yet neglected not therefore my Pastoral employment, but preached still constantly every Lord's day, save when some of my Reverend Brethren and Colleages did now and then, yet not freqentlie, afford me some help. For which my attendance, albeit some of the Antinominan party buzzed it into the ears of my people, that I received an hundred pound a year; and by Ordinance of Parliament indeed we were to receive each one of us Four shillings a day; yet I never either demanded a penny, nor when I was sometime a Committee, and in the Chair, for the distribution of such sums of money, as they came in, did I ever set apart, or cause to be set apart, any part thereof for myself; regarding the indigence of some who had been either plundered, or driven from their places; and the just claim of others, who upon good ground required as of right du to them, a proportionable share in the moneys brought in; nor did I ever receive of what was by others unsought to assigned me, so much as half the charge of my Boat-hire (setting aside other expenses) amounted unto.

From this employment I came home, arrested with a sharp fit of the Wind-Colick, the violence whereof, after grievous and tedious pains undergone, and not suddenlie removed, so loosed and weakened the whole frame of my feeble body, that it constrained me to keep Bed for a long time together. After which extreme weakness, when I had recovered so much strength, as but to sit up a little, by some cold taken, I fell back into such a deep and dangerous relapse, as made my recovery very doubtful, not to my friends alone, but even to the Physicians themselves. This affixed me for a longer space of time, then before, to my Bed; mured me up a far longer time in my Chamber, and confined me yet a far longer time to my House. And this, I suppose, was no willing or willful silencing of myself.

Howbeit, so soon as I had gotten any degree of strength, and was able to creep or craul out to the Public Assemblie (of my own people, I mean; for unto that at Westminster, I was never able to return) I returned to my wonted cours of Teaching, and therein continued for some good space of time, until by intention of speech a vein opening in my Lungs caused such a flux of blood, as that, when it could not otherwise be staid, I was constrained by advice to open a vein elsewhere; which double expense of blood could not but exceedinglie weaken one of my years, never of any strong constitution, and by a foregoing malady brought so low as I la 〈…〉 been. Notwithstanding, after that I had for some few months forborne preaching, supposing that all in my Lungs was now perfectly closed up and healed, I betook myself afresh again to my wonted employment, and persisted therein, until either the former or some other vein in the same part, reserated the second time, and with more violence disgorging itself then before, I was enforced to have recours to the former remedy again; but found it a work of more difficulty now by that cours (albeit a double qantitie almost of blood to what before, was then drawn from me) and other means adjoined thereunto, to effect a restraint, and repress the efflux, then formerly it had been. And I was then told by the Physician, that I must wholly forbear Preaching, unless I would willfully make away myself; and this is the willful or unwilling silencing of myself from Preaching. Which howsoever I therefore forbear, that I may not thereby make myself guilty of self-murder; yet do I not wholly neglect my Pastoral employments, so far as with safety I may perform any (for this voidance of blood doth at times still surprise me, though not with such vehemency, as at those other times it did) in Administration of the Sacraments with such short Collations as ar suitable to the present occasion, in Visitation of the sick, and other like Offices, as ability serveth, and my weakness will permit.

Yea but, When I preach not at all, yet I exact, or at least receive from my people Two hundred pounds a year.

Suppose that being now unable to preach, and take those pains with my people that formerly I had done, I should yet admit from them, some good portion of that which I did formerly receive; especially at mine own charge providing and procuring some able persons to perform what is reqisite to be done, but am not able to do myself; (that which I have been careful of ever since this infirmity hath held me, so far as in me lay so to do) suppose, I say, I should so do, I am of the mind, that no ingenuous people would deem it a thing unjust or uneqal, or could upon any eqitable ground deny it to one, that had spent himself and his strength among them, and upon them; so long as God was pleased to continue ability to him. Sure I am that by God's own Ordinance and appointment, the sons of Levi, who had undergone the service of the Tabernacle, until they were fifty years old, should then, growing in years, be discharged of a great part of their wonted service; and yet were not then to lose their livelihood, or their part in the Tithes and other annual allowances to that Tribe and Function assigned, albeit they did no toilsome work for it.

But whether I reqire it or no, certain it is that I receive it, and that it is no less then two hundred a year.

Belike, though I be not so gripple to exact or reqire it; (and where is the old Churls covetousness then?) yet my people ar now grown on a sudden so wonderful open-hearted and open-handed, as to bring or send at least in to me more by much then ever at any time they afforded me. And Qis nisi mentis inops oblatum respuat? what a folly were it for me to refuse and return it? what a discourtesy had it been not to receive and accept so large, or lavish rather, a courtesy, so freely and profufelie tendered? As upon my refual of that Place in the University before-mentioned, which was then conferted on a worthy Brother far fitter for it then myself, whom to the great loss not of that College alone, but of the whole University, and the no less grief of all his well-affected Brethren of the Ministry, unto whom his worth and parts were known, the Lord hath latelie taken from us; when upon the publication thereof in the Assemblie, he out of his ingenuous modesty stood up, and made an Apology for himself, that he had not sought for the place, as I verily believe he had not, and by the party that published it to clear him therein, it was averred, that if that Reverend Father (so was he pleased to style me) that sat over against him, had not refused it; he had not been thought upon for it. As I say, an ancient Doctor now decessed, said then to me, as we went out of the Assemblie, I would my Lord of Manchester would have graced me with the refusal of the Mastership of Trinity College; as intimating that he would also have refused it, as I did: so say I here, I would my people would have graced not me with the refusal of so great a sum (which I am well assured I should never have-received) but graced themselves with the free tender of so much as was du to me, or so much at least as would have amounted to that which he received from me, who officiated for me, to try whether, or how far forth I should have accepted of it, or received their free offer. But this on a liars, Lilies word, I should say, they that list may believe. What I receive is soon-known; for it comes not to me by many hands, nor need I fear, or be loath to have it known what it is; I receive qarterlie, for all the Tithes of the grounds, Seventeen pound ten shillings, and for all my Gleab, five pounds ten shillings; which all put together, will not make up One hundred a year. For as for Tithe-rent for houses formerly paid, I have for divers years past not received one penny, nor ought in lieu of it; the pretence of the most is, that I admit not all promiscuouslie to the Lord's Table, but according to Ordinance of Parliament in that behalf enacted, nor as yet, that I know, repealed, reqire of those, whom I admit, some account of their Faith, but of neither sort, the one or the other do I in this kind receive ought, though recoverable in the Court of Excheqer.

Now out of the sum above specified, which I receive quarterlie, do I constantly issu thirteen, and sometime fourteen pound a qarter unto him that performs those Offices for me, which with safety myself cannot. Whereunto when there shall be added, what in right of my Rectorie I part with in Tenths and Taxes to the State, Assessments for the poor, with other like necessary payments, wherein I stand as deeply charged, as if I enjoyed the whole, and as when I received most; it will easily appear how smala portion or poor a pittance rather, of what I receive, comes into mine own purs. So that I may well say of my Rectorie, as Luther sometime of Free-will, it is Titulus sine re. I hold a bare Title of a Rectorie; a sorry pittance of ought that may fitly bear that name.

But why do you retain the Title then, may some say, if you reap no more benefit by it?

I Answer, It is much against my mind, as not a few well know. I have a long time been desirous to devest myself of it: I made divers years since my mind known to my people, concerning my not willingness only, but ernest desire, in regard of mine imbecility, to resign it, and reqested them to take some speedy cours for the bringing in of a faithful and able Pastor, under whose Ministry myself might live comfortably together with them. One was nominated by the party, who bears the Title of Patron. Some exceptions were taken against him, and I ernestlie pressed to retain the Title, til such an one might be had as was generally approved. I growing daily as more weaklie, so more weary of the Charge, have since that time again, and that some good space of time since, caused it to be motioned to the party, in whom the right of Presenting is deemed to rest, that if he would nominate any one that should for Life and Abilities be approved of by the Classis whereof I am an useles Member, or by any three of them, I would, upon their approbation signified, readily resign; But of any such I could never yet hear from him. I am now put in hope that another way the burden may be wholly taken off from my shoulders, and one of better Abilities placed in my room; the day whereof I long to see, as that which will be a day of liberty, and much ease of mind to me.

Thus having, I hope, to any, not totallie closed, or willfully winking eye, evidently discovered, the notorious untruth and vanity, of those slanderous calumnies, that this lying Varlet hath endeavored to fasten upon me,

I shall from henceforth willingly silence myself from dealing any further with him, and leave him to his Father and Master, with whom he dealeth, and whose work he doth, even to him who was the first coyner of lies, and is the Father of Liars, to receive his Childs Portion from him, together with them (among whom he seems ambitious of a principal place) who by their forging and loving of lies, show manifestly of what Stock they ar descended, and what House they belong unto.

I shall only add, for further manifestation, not of his virulent and slanderons language only, but of his malicious and mischievous mind, that he may show himself to be a right. Scholar, and a genuine Child of him, that was not a Lyar only, bu • a Murderer from the beginning, what he hath in the close of his February Observations, where these words ar found.

The Common Law near this time, or the practical part thereof, seems somewhat curbed;—whilst malicious Presbyterie, without a general Massacre, never will.

And yet further to show the extent of this his murderous mind to reach not the Presbyterie alone, but the whole body of the Ministry, and his longing desire, impatient of delay, to have some such bloody and barbarous design, or hellish project put in execution out of hand, as in his last years close he complained of them in these terms, We are eternally plagued with a mutinous and self-seeking Clergy, whose avarice hath no bounds, or pride any limits.

So thus now he concludes his Mayes Observations,

The Saint-seeming Divine underhand undoes both People, Authority, Soldiers and Themselvs, by crawling, and creeping, and stealing Men's affections from the present Army and Government. Parliament of England, how long wilt thou susser these to reign?

Thus this gallant-spirited (as he seems to account himself) or rather murderous-minded man (as he may justly and deservedlie be deemed) like another Haman, who because stout Mordecai the Jew will not bow to him, thought scorn to wreck his wrathful rage upon him alone, but would have the whole Nation of the Jews rooted out and destroyed; so he, because T. G. a stiff-necked Presbyterian (as he is pleased to style him, and some other of the like strain) will not stoop to him, would have the whole Presbyterie, yea, and Ministry to be murdered and massacred, and encites (what in him lies, nor I hope will he pretend without good warrant from the Book of Heaven, where in the Stars he finds it entered and engrossed, so to do) either the Higher Powers (for to the Parliament of England he calls for it) like tyrannous Saul, or the rude and rash multitude and the Souldierie (whom he says they undo) like so many Edomitical Doeg's, not to fall soul upon and murder some fourscore or thereabouts of God's Priests in someone City, but to massacre & make away so many hundreds of Christ's Ministers dispersed through all parts of the land, as being such, as without a general massacre of them cannot be curbed. And I shall only propound it in sober sadness to the sage and serious consideration of those Worthies who have the Rains of Government in their hands, whether such hellish Counsels and devi • lish Designs as these do conduce to the settling of peace in the Nation, or ar documents fit to be instilled into people's, and Swordmens minds; or rather whether the publishing and divulging of such projects as found written and enrolled in the Celestial Records being permitted to pass without check or control, may not prove in time, means of working much mischief, and of drawing down the wrath and vengeance of God upon the whole body of the State, Read Jer. 26. 15. and 2 Chron. 36. 16, 17.

An Advertisement concerning two Allegations in Lilies Postscript.

HEre when I had laid aside my Pen, casting mine eye occasionallie on this Vatlets Postscript, I chanced to light in the Close of it, on the Allegations of two Autors in some respects not unlike himseif, the one writing in English, the other in Latin; together with a task imposed by him upon me to English the latter; which, though neither of them concern me in particular, yet for some considerations, I shall not stick to relate either, and at so kind a friends reqest, so far forth to gratify him, as to English the latter, with a little overplus thereunto.

The former Autor, one Cleavland, a man to me, either by sight or hearsay, tongue, or pen, utterly unknown, futher then his friend Lily gives me notice here of him, in some Satyrical Libel (it seems) is pleased to term the late Assemblie at Westminster (as he, who himself styles it a Synod of Presbyterians, as if it consisted of none but such, relates him) A Flea-bitten Synod, An Assemblie brewed of Clerks, like Royston Crows, or Friers of both Orders, black and grey.

The latter, left for me to English, is parcel of a Latin Epistle of one Carpenter, a man whose face I never saw, save in the Frontispiece of one of his Books, of which also, save by this occasion, I never before saw leaf or line. Yet before I come to fulfil Mr. Lilies suit here, I shall not think much, or deem it much amiss, to entertain my Reader, with a Character of the Autor; and that mostlie, or wholly rather, from his own words and works, relations and writings, which, till upon this occasion, having never before seen or sought after, I have now latelie in regard of this task by his friend Lily imposed upon me, made enquiry for, and after the sight thereof procured, have taken some pains to peruse.

The man was sometime a Popish Priest (so himself acknowledgeth) of which sort we have had in these later times, Counterfeit Conveits not a few, who pretending conscience, as did that Arch-turncoat of Spalata, come over hither to do more mischief by lurking and working underhand among us here, then they could do by abiding further from us abroad, and such a one he confesseth himself, that some of his own kindred (whom therefore he styles Jewish Presbyterians) suspect him to be; yea he complains of, or exclaims rather against one, (whom he calls a man of pufpast, like that fat belly-mountaind Bishop) who lighting on one of his Works, said no more of it, but wrote only upon it, Spalatensis. And for my part, I shall herein pass no other censure upon him, then what my Reverend Father in Law Mr. Charles Pinner, a man of a qick and piercing judgment, did sometime, after the reading of some of that Arch-dissemblers Pamphlets, when they came first abroad, and were generally entertaind with much applause, pass upon the Autor of them, That the man, so far as might be gathered from his writings, seemed not yet well washed from his Popish dregs. And the self same I conceive may be as well said of this man, notwithstanding his washing of the Anabaptist over and over, that he is not yet well washed from his Popish conceits and opinions. For in the same his Washing-bowl, wherein he washes and Barbs the Anabaptist, he sorrowfullie confesseth, that when he first came from the Papists, he was more fired on with passion, then drawn with Devotion. And in some of his first Sermons he made here afer his coming over, to insinuate himself into favor with Archbishop Lawd, (who at first, as I have heard Dr. Low report, held him a loof off, and set light by him) by a public profession of his approbation and well-liking of those Imnovations that he had here brought in, he professed (as is avowed by persons of good credit, who themselves then heard him) that he found our Church at his return in a far better condition then when he left it; and that no man religiouslie affected would refuse to bow to the Alter. Again in the fore mentioned work he informs his Reader, that in these our Western parts there are more ebbings and flowings, more sea-alterations & wave-motions of Religion, then elsewhere; and the Church of Rome holds Truth fast many times when others wretchedlie betray it. And he doth, he saith, sincerely confess, that even in that his Discours (concerning Baptism) he walks beyond ordinary walkings, upon the grounds of the Church of Rome; as indeed he doth, both in admitting a wide difference between the Baptism of John, and the Baptism of Christ, and the efficacy and effects of either, Ch. 30. As also in avowing infalliblie an infusion of Habitual Grace, and Perfection of Sanctification in Baptism of Infants, Chap. 18. 19, 21, 25. And both in coining such a character in Baptism imprinted on the soul as no Sacrament in the Old Testament had, Chap. 14. In stating the necessity of Baptism unto Salvation, ne cessitate medii, Chap. 89. to which purpose also he alledgeth from a counterfeit Justine, who concludes, as he saith, in the rebound, after much bandying of the business, that baptized Infants are saved, unbaptized Infants are not saved, leaving us to save our selves as we can. Again, for unwritten Traditions, he telleth us, In verbo Sacerdotis Christiani, in the word of a Christian Priest, we must be Cabalists in some sense, and receive with a plavdit, the distinction of God's Word into written and unwritten. He wishes further, that when he came over, he could have transferred from Rome into England, and our Universities two precious Jewels, School-Divinity, and Mystical-Divinity. Of the former whereof, to wit, School-Divinity, wherein all the Body of Popish, Erroneous, Superstitious, Prodigious, and Idolatrous Dictates and Doctrines ar couched & maintained, & which consists, for a great part of it, of fond, frivolous, and fruitless debates, whereof some himself toucheth in his Washbowl. For as for the sober, sounder, and useful part of School Lerning, our Universities want it not, and his wish therefore is herein needles, as the learned Works of our Writers that deal in Controversies, do evidently show; albeit that in their English Practical and Didactical Discourses they discreetlie forbear to make use of it, because it is not so congruous to popular apprehensions. But of that Romish School-Divinity, which he wishes derived from Rome into our Universities, he thus speaks, I follow the Discours of mine own heart, in the deep Tracts of School-Divinity (the Title of Doctor Profundus, belike, he may challenge) the strength and marrow whereof I find after long use to be superlativelie strong and useful, above the marrow and strength of Lions; altho the crassipelles thick-skinned Preachers (such ar all ours to this Dr. Subtilis, that he may have Scotus his title too) dabling and wading in the shalow, think shalowlie of it. Of the latter, to wit, The spiritual Magazine of Mystical Divinity, as he termeth it, thus; The defect hereof hath rendered the leaders of these wretched and leaden people (thus he reckons our Protestant people in comparison of the Papists) wretchedlie deficient, and altogether sinking within themselves. Whereas hereby they might have made better and stronger use of their strong (or strange rather) imaginations (mere human fancies) as the mystical Divines have taught; Such, to wit, as play and sport themselves with God's sacred Oracles, and exercise their wanton wits, in writhing and wrigling them to and fro, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , like some Puppets, or Engines, artificiallie framed, that with screws and devices may be turned into what shapes and figures men lust; That which he, and some other of his strain, yea, to many of our Novellists among us to freqentlie practice, and whereof in these his writings he hath given such absurd, immodest, irreligious and ridiculous Paterns and Instances, as were sufficient to make any modest, religious, ingenuous, or judicious persons to loath and abhor it: Not unlike herein to that great French-man, a man otherwise of eminent parts, who commending to Scholars and Students this kind of study, propounds withal for a Sample such a piece of a fantastical Jew, as would make any pious Christian man's stomak to rise within him at the reading of it. But of such stuff we have to much among us already; which even the soberer sort of Popish Writers themselves mislike; and we are well content it rest where it is, wishing it rather exiled wholly from us, and the monopolie of it confirmed and confined unto those of the Romish Synagog. Add hereunto his Popish reckoning of the seven Hed-sins, and his Frierlie conceit, in a ridiculous application of Christ's several seven bleedings for the cure of them. Also his pleading for the settled and immovable Font for the baptizing of Infants, which the Presbyterians, he saith, have brought to a moveable and unsettled Puedish.

But will ye see him treading more exactlie in the steps of that more eminent mount ain-bellied (as he calls him) Proteus or Vertumnus, to whom his Censurer he saith, compared him, and to whom for bulk of body and belly he vicissim compares that Censurer of him? where he makes his confession, as he would do it he saith, and it were upon his death-bed; I most heartily deny (saith he) and defy, renounce, abhor and protest against, the presumption, pride, and avarice of Popes, their Nephews and Cardinals; the deceitful dealing of Priests, Jesuits, Moncks and Friers; and against all other Doctrines, that bear the true mark and hecceitie of corruption. Would not Spalatensis think we qestionles, Yea, Cardinal Bellarmine, or Baronius himself, have said as much? and much more, what there follows? For immediately in the very next words, he spends a whole page and more in a transcendent commendation of the Papists, for their faithful conservation of the Sacred Articles of Catholic and Apostolic Doctrine, their well-ordered Zeal, admirable and most ravishing Devotions, Deiform Intentions, Heroical acts of Vertu, Fastings, Prayings, Recollections, Meditations, Introversions, Aspirations, Humiliations, Mortifications, Abnegations of themselves, &c. As if all true Zeal, sound Devotion, and sincere Piety, or the highest strains thereof at least, were wholly cloistered up in the Popish Monasteries among their Votaries (of whose Acts with us what they were Bales two whole Books may show, and what they ar, and have been elsewhere, the testimonies of their own Writers, in Illyricus his Catalog, and Wolfs Memoralia, may sufficiently enform) or were to be found in the Romish Church, if not alone, yet in a far greater eminency then in any other. All which things, he saith, he doth most humbly embrace, receive, approv, with all his soul, heart, and spirit; and he will never believe that the Tree (to wit, the Church of Rome, and its Superstitious Orders of Moncks and Friers) is corrupted in the Root, Heart, and Substance, which brings forth such heavenly fruits. For as for what he solemnlie professeth elsewhere, that he bleeds in his spirit, and is ashamed of his company (as if we belied the Papists) when he hears such things asserted in Pulpits by persons non infimae Classis, as he saith, are fancy-formed pictures, and antick shapes, falling foul with his clear knowledge: Those he instances in, ar some of them too true, as that Papists believe to be saved by their own Merits, which do in truth exclude Christ's; that the Common people among them pray most commonly in a language they understand not; that all ordinary Papists (though the all is in likelihood an addition of his own) worship Images as their gods (yet himself elsewhere confesseth that their great Doctors, Thom. of Aqine & Bellarmine resolv, that Christ's Image, and the Crucifix, may be adored with worship du to God alone; and that the ignorant Spaniards, men and women, young and old, and of all sizes counted their old worm-eaten Images, their Country gods.) Some ar credible enough, as that the Pope should dispense with Priests and Jesuits to r • cant and join with the Ministers of England, to reduce Protestants the more convenientlie to his Religion; which may the rather be believed of those who ar not ignorant of their Doctrine of Eqivocation, and their hellish Practices of Devilish Designs, either personallie acted or approved and extolled by them, as himself elsewhere acknowledgeth. And how can he clearly out of his knowledge, as he saith, clear the Pope in this particular? to which hed might be referred, what elsewhere he saith runs among the people for a truth, that there ar or were latelie Jesuits in our Army, that preached there; which report himself, who knows Popish affairs, motions and contrivements in a large measure, and in holy Truth more then many think him to know, (the truth whereof we shall, without putting him to his corporal Oath, easily believe) and then some would have him to know, doth faithfully believe to be the most malicious, and most damnable falls invention of the seething-scalding-burning-fire-hot-hearted Genevensis. (For now he is in his Ruf.) Lastly, others of them may well be deemed Fittons of his own framing, as that, to let others pass, that comes in last, to bring up the rearward, that no Professors of chastity live chastlie among them; and that all of that Religion ar bloodilie minded. Of both which, howsoever experience and proof have upon public Records left evidence sufficient, not to run out far abroad, in Queen Mary's days here, and of later time in Ireland, to prov the truth concerning an over-great party of them, yet is it not probable that any of note would in so general terms avow. He confesseth indeed, as infalliblie certain, that there ar corruptions among Papists both of Doctrine and Manners; and scandals consequently ensuing. But this he puts off with a necessity of scandals in all Churches, and no Angelical perfection to be expected in any. And as Spalatensis sometime used to distinguish between the Court of Rome, and the Church of Rome: So he would have the world, he saith, to understand, that he now understands the difference between the Doctrines, which pride and private interest have publicly raised in the Church of Rome, and which ar not destructiv of its being a Church; (as the sins and errors of the Pharisees destroyed not the Chair of Moses;) and the Doctrine of the Church of Rome lineallie descended from Apostolical Antiqitie, or included virtuallie in their seed and root. And where he prosesseth faithfully to render an account of his Faith; He subjoins at the close of it, hitherto I have said nothing but what a knowing Papist will say. And therefore our Pulpits, and the ears of our people have been abused by the devils Janizaries.

But will you further see, how he would enforce upon us a necessity of repairing to Rome for the sure founding of our Faith? There is another work of his, wherein that Confession of his Faith is contained; but which I know not how to term, nor himself, it seems, well neither. For not unlike to that Riddle of Panarceus, related by Athenaeus out of Clearchus his book of Riddles, and enlarged by H. Stevens, and some others, concerning a blinking Eunuch, who spying a Flittermous hanging on a Ferula, or Fennel▪ giant, as some term it, threw at it with a Pumice, but missed it. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . A man no man, seeing and not seeing, a bird no bird, sitting and not sitting, on a tree no tree, threw at it and threw not at it, with a stone no stone. He accordingly entitles, this his partly English, partly Latin Discours, A Sermon and no Sermon, preached and not preached, in a Church and not a Church, to a people and not a people; wherein his first Alarm to his Brethren of the Presbyterie, being his Brethren and not his Brethren. But in this Rhapsodie, give it what name you or himself shall please, he hath by piece-meal, with divers interlocutions in English to his Plebeian Auditory, given out a Discours or Debate, of a great difficulty, which he saith, forsooth, he delivers in Latin, because he had a secret to tell the Scholar in his ear, the main scope whereof in the first place bendeth itself unto this, that our English Translation of the Bible cannot afford a mere English man any good ground to build his Faith upon. This the rather to bring about, he scoffs first at the work, which he termeth in plain English, a dispirited Translation, then he falls foul on those Reverend, pious, and learned Ministers of God's Word employed in it, of whom he passeth this verdict, Personas qibus spiritum divinum, ne dicam affingere, sed non audemus affigere, qorum{que} filios ex lu • o vario & versatili conflatos videmus, & ad omnia paratos pro mutata rerum facie. I give you his own words, and will leave them to himself to English. Onelie thus much English any weak Grammar Scholar may pick out of them, that the persons made use of in that Translation, were such as we cannot so much as fain, much less dare to affirm, that they had the Spirit of God in them; and that by their children (as he terms, hem) we may see, what they were, to wit, men made up of such clay as might be easily molded and wrought into any shape whatsoever, as being ready to admit any new impression, as the state and face of the times and things shall alter and change. A wicked and wretched censure, most uncharitablie and unchristianlie passed upon persons of well-known piety, and approved integrity, and whose courses and carriages, divers of them have evidently evinced the contrary; and it may well be deemed, as himself saith elsewhere (to return him his own words) alios ex suo judicat ingenio, that by his own disposition he judgeth of them.

But what is the cours then, that a mere English man must take for the sure grounding of his Faith? yea not a mere English man only, but any learned or unlerned, Pastor or People; for that which he beats upon, and drives at as well in his English Discours as in his Latin Debate, concerneth as well Teachers as people taught, and extendeth itself unto any Translation, not our English alone, and Interpretation also whatsoever. It is this, By adhering to a Church of sound learning, and sufficient authority, such authority as may reasonablie put a stop to controversies; that he may be able, producing the authority of such a known Church, to lay his hand upon the Book, and say, This is the Original. And to this purpose he professeth reverentlie to embrace those Preachers, who are deeply founded upon the sense and sentence of the Holy Ghost speaking by the Church; and that the reason why the Doctrine of the Fathers is deemed true, (not because found agreeable to God's word, the rule whereby the Apostles were content to have their Doctrine tried; but why then?) because it was the Doctrine of the true Church, in which, and of which they were. Such a Church belike as neither did, nor could hold any error. And he concludes therefore, in another of his Works, that when we have done what men can do, if the Interpreters of Scripture be not spirited with the same Spirit (to wit, of Infallibilitie) with which the Writers thereof were spirited, they shall never give spiritual and secure judgment, proportionablie to the Prophetical and Apostolical Spirit; yea infalliblie; if it be not moreover infalliblie known, that they are divinelie spirited; they cannot inbreath into us such knowledge that shall qiet and allay our exasperated and troubled hearts; and this the subtle Doctor Scotus binds with an infallible reason; No man perfectly and firmlie beleivs him (let him be Interpreter of the words or sense) of whom he knows he can deceive, or be deceived, in such things, as having no security of Direction from the gracious and manifest promise of God.

Now what doth all this drive to, but that no man, learned or unlearned, can have any firm ground whereon to fix his faith, but by recours and adherence to a Church, that is, infalliblie known to be generally infallible? And what Church he must of necessity mean and intend, I shall not need to tell any, that knows ought in the Controversies between Rome and us. For the truth is, no particular Church since the Apostles days, nay nor in their time, save as it was from time to time, directed and informed by someone of them surviving, either ever had, or ever did or durst (that appears) lay claim to, any such privilege of a general Infallibilitie; the presumptuous and groundless challenge of the Modern Romish Church, by virtu forsooth of the Popes late introduced Autoritie, only excepted. And what this Design then drives to, any one that hath but half an ey may easily disery.

Yea but the Difficultie (he saith) was never before propounded that he ever found or heard, by any Church or person in such manner, and making such an assault, as he doth here.

That he hath indeed herein exceeded all other Writers, for ought I know, even the Papists themselves, I shall readily condescend unto him. For howsoever the Romanists and Popish Doctors hold, that the Pope, some of them, a General Council, other of them, cannot err in determining ought concerning matter of Faith or Life; yet none of them, that I ever read or heard of, affirm that either Church or Pope can Infalliblie determine, wheresoever there are any various readings in the Hebrew, or Greek Text, or wheresoever any word in either is ambiguous, neither making any material or momentous difference, which is the right reading, or • hich the genuine sense of the word, which yet Degree of Infallibilitie this • an necessarily reqires, as that without which no firm footing or sure ground for our Faith can be found.

Yea but his Will-strong Objector, he saith, says, that the proposal of his Difficultie induceth to Atheism; and this contradicts what I here say, and others, it seems before me have said; for if it put to the Church of Rome, how induceth it to Atheism, which denies both God and Church?

Sir, I make no doubt, but that many Points and Practises in Popery, when the absurdity of them comes to be discovered, and the end discried, for which they were at first introduced, and are still stiflie maintained, induce millions unto Atheism. For example, When people shall be told, that the Pope for the time being, is Christ's Vicar General to rule and govern the whole Christian Church, and that there is no certain and infallible way of determining doubts in the Christian Religion but by recours unto him; and shall withal consider, what manner of creatures many of the Popes themselves have been; will it not, think we, indeed, instead of pulling to Rome, (which yet is the main drift of it) push rather to Atheism, to hear or read it consequently maintained, that insanus juvenis, a mad Lad, not above eighteen year old at most such as Baronius reports John the twelfth to have been; yea p • er ferme decennis, a boy of about ten, as Rhodolphus Glaber of Benet the ninth; or one that lives so loosely and lewdlie, that he is not undeservedlie deemed, if not to deny, yet at the least and best, not to believe those two main Articles of the Creed, the Resurrection of the dead, and Life eternal, as Bellarmine himself acknowledgeth of John the 23. or one that accounts and calls the Story of the Gospel, Fabulam Christi, a Tale of Christ (as Jerome that piece of Apocrypha, Fabulam Tobiae, the Tale of Tobias) which of Leo the 10. Bale testifies; to be the Supreme Judge of all Controversies in the Church, and his Dictates such as are to be received by the whole Christian World, as undoubtedlie true, and unfalliblie right, in all things concerning either Faith or Life? and of divers other Popish Tenets and Practises, as of Transubstantiation, the Popes Indulgences, and Dispensations, &c. the like may be averred. But to answer you in few words: That which tends to the utter subversion of men's faith, by endeavoring to introduce an utter uncertainty of that which is the only sure ground of their faith, without such a help as is nowhere to be had, doth it not pave a plain and prone path unto Atheism? But so doth that which you here propose, beyond in some sort, as yourself confess, what any Romanist ever did. For to make men, not silly people only, but even the lernedst of them, utterly uncertain of the genuine sense of Scripture, and God's Oracles more ambiguous then Apollo Loxias dark Riddles, and Heraclitus 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 his Dictates were; you tell us that they are conceived in such an obscure manner, that they are referta Mysteriis omnifariam eventilatis, & in incertum cadentibus, aliisque velut Aenigmatibus infinitis, qae Lectores in diversa rapiant atque solicitent Argumentis aeqo ponder libratis, full fraught with Mysteries, blown out every way, or into all shapes, and falling out altogether uncertainlie, as also with infinite Riddles, that solicit and draw the Reader divers ways with arguments of eqal weight on either side, and so leave him in suspense, as if the whole Book of God were made up of such intricacies; as also that they are penned in such a Language, in qâ puncta varia, & in variis codicibus alia atqe alia, sensusqe radicum multiplices & in omnia propendentes, qae vel doctissimis undiqe tenebras offundere nemini uspiam docto dubium est, wherein the points are various, and the words pointed one way in one book, and another way in others, and the roots, or primitive words of so many several significations, that of themselves they incline to have anything made of them, by reason whereof, even the most learned are encompassed with darkness on every side, that which no learned man anywhere can make doubt of. And therefore forsooth no man learned or unlerned can have any sure footing for their faith, unless they can find out, or light on such a party of whom they may have assurance, that he or they can clear all those infinite mysteries, and assoil all those obscure Riddles, and certainly settle all those varieties, and determine all those differences, by an undoubted pointing of the words first, and then limiting each of them to his true and proper sense there so read, and unless they be also firmlie ascertained concerning such a party, that he or they cannot be deceived in any of these particulars, nor will deceive him therein. Which when it shall be discovered to be a matter of mere impossibility, is not this a ready course to make people warp towards Atheism? for doth he not herein the v • rie same work, that he saith the grand Plot-master of Hell doth, labor to make holy Scripture a leaden rule, appliable to all things? or can the Grand Plot- • ster of Hell frame an Instrument more efficacious, to induce men to Atheism, then by working men's minds to a persuasion of an utter uncertainty of any word of God at all, But he saith, that as the Church of Rome hath enforced alike Difficultie, so have the greatest and most conspicuous Independents amongst us reinforced the very same with the same Church.

What Independents they are that enforce this difficulty in the very same manner that the Church of Rome doth, I know not. But whoever they be, if any such be, if they enforce it as he doth, they take a ready course to destroy the faith of their followers, by enforcing upon them such a ground for their faith as is nowhere to be had. If as the Church of Rome doth, thereby to infer a necessity of repairing to them out of all qarters of the world, for a sound and final resolution of all their doubts in Religion (for so the Romanists enforce it) they shall in so doing (to give them the Autors own words) having given a Bill of divorce to one Pope, beyond the Seas, enstal and enthrone a goodly numbe of Popelings, and young little Muf • ies, at home. But of this let them consider whom it concerns.

This Discourse, or Debate, he saith indeed, he delivered purposely in Latin, because he would not dissolv the soul-harmony of weak persons. But there is enough in his English, wherein also the main substance of it is, to do mischief more then enough, not indeed with any understanding, well-grounded, and judicious persons, but with people of weak brains, unsettled minds, loos affections, dispositions inclinable either to Papism, or Atheism, whereof through the unsettledness of our state, and the licentiousness of the times, too many have of late been, and are still, in most places among us.

He professeth indeed freely and more then summis labiis, to invite an Answerer; let him come, saith he. But in his Postscript he reqires that the Answer be returned in Latin.

First, Because (he saith) he will not enter the lists with any but Scholars. Secondly, Because he will not be Sea-bounded, and judged in his future Discours by an Island. None, it seems, in this poor Island ar of ability or sufficiency to judge of his writings; they ar so feeble, miserably defective, and shalowbraind, for want of his Scholastical and Mystical Divinity, which he wishes he could have brought over with him, wherewith to improve them. But why did he not then publish his former Debate by itself, that it might suddenly have flown oversea, but give it out by morsels and mamocks, either in the Pulpit, or by the Press or both amidst the intervals of a large English Discours? And in the next place he falls to threatening of him that shall oppose him. If the Adversarie, saith he, shall be obstinate (as they must be deemed all, that meddle with ought of his) let him know, that my Pen shall not spend Ink hereafter but in the Latin language. And withal, I promise, saith he, my Reader, that I will not only endeavor to satisfy him in the present matter, but I will dress the matter in warm Language. Withal subjoining a long addition of vain boasting what rare and precious stuff he will therein entertain his Reader with. Now in part of this denunciation he hath much failed; in part, if I mistake him not, he hath not at all failed to make his word good; For whereas an Answer in Latin to his Latin difficulty hath been tendered unto him, as himself acknowledgeth; which he might, if he had so pleased, have replied unto in Latin, and so published it together with his former Latin Debate extracted out of his former Work: he hath returned only some few parcels or patches in Latin, dispersed and dis-jected like Absirtus his limbs, all put together not making up four whole pages at most, inserted into an English Work consisting of Pages upward of 450. Wherein also he is so far from giving any real satisfaction to his Reader, that he doth not so much as afford him his Answerers own words in the language required; only picks out some curtailed Objections, as he termeth them, framed as himself pleaseth, and delivered in English, and without the Arguments to back them annexed, and after a little sorry stuff sub-joined, turns over the rest, with a Caetera omnia ut aberrantia à scopo & assument amera rejicio, and so lets them go. But sure, had he desired, as he pretended, to have the Debate of his Difficultie fly so speedily beyond sea, he would never have clogged it with such a weight of our leaden language (the best term that he can afford our English Protestant people) so far exceeding the whole bulk of its Latin body, annexed to it, and made up with it, as was like to confine it to our English Island▪ and so impede and impeach its further progress and passage.

Howbeit, in some part of his promise, to wit, in his warm language, as he terms it, he is large enough, he is not at all wanting. For altho the Answer be framed in a modest manner, without any broad or uncivil language, his Reply, which he tells him he shall find interspersed in that large Discours, is dressed and pickled indeed both in the English and in the Latin, with great store, and more then good, of sqibs and scoffs, his best Logik and chiefest Rhetorik, such as Pr • sta, pure, muscarium; Boy, reach the fly-flap, and calling his Answerer Sublicium caput, a Logger-hed. His Answer a famous tinkling of words, a sound • mpiie of soundness, which he bids him therefore cease, as a poor Apothecary to set out to show, like vain and empty pots and coffers. The original of his mistake (as he terms it) defluxionem per Caput vermiculans in Narem crassam obtusam{que}, A defluxion from his nittie Hed, into his snottie Nose, (for so in plain English it sounds): And besides much more stuf of the same stamp, having prefaced somewhat of an ambidextrons Trick or Design on foot in these tumbling times, of divers persons in the same family adhering some to one party and some to another; That which is reserved for the last as the worst, that he is an extract of Presbyterie from a stif-hearted and refractorie Presbyterian: And what is the Presbyterie, or the Design he prates of, to his Difficultie, or the Debate of it? But this is he that lays this Law on his Answerer, Facessat omnis impexus, illotus, inqinatus{que} sermo, Away with all undecent, unwashed and defiled langage, Yea, to affright his Opponent from dealing further with him, he tells his Reader, that if he be called to unriddle his enigmatical expressions, and to produce a concealed description, which he hath in sinu • , he will, and he shall, and he must laugh, if he be not plane 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , one that cannot laugh at all. But let him according to his own proposal, publish apart from his English Discours, his Difficultie as it is in Latin conceived, together with the Answer to it in Latin entire, and his own Latin Reply as it is here, thereunto; and it may be, as Erasmus reports of one whom Frier Robert de Lycio had laid a wager with, that he would in a Sermon with his Oratory draw tears from him; how he confessed indeed that he wept, but it was out of mere pity, to consider that one of his parts should be so vain and loose of life as he was: So his Reader may smile at least to see the man's vain confidence, in supposing he had given any good satisfaction in the matter debated, by such a Reply; and it may be such a Rejoinder may ensu thereupon, as without scurrillous sqibs and scoffs to move laughter, or excursions into such by-matters as concern not the present debate, may lay forth the insufficiency of his Reply, and shuffling aside as impertinent, such passages as concerned him to have replied unto; which how it may affect the Reader, I shall spare to speak or to presage.

Mean while, for satisfaction of his difficulty, I shall refer him to himself, in those ten Reasons, Notes, and Marks, sufficiently arguing for Scripture, as it came first from God, as himself confesseth in that very Work, or Sermon, if it were a Sermon (to go no further) wherein it was by him at first propounded. All which ar as evident, and as conspicuous, as well in the the English and Latin, or any other Translation, as in the Origiginal either Greek or Hebrew, and may conseqentlie convince a man of its divine Authority for the subject Matter, whereon our Faith is grounded, without any such exqisite skil as he speaks of either in the Greek or Hebrew, in which latter very few of the Ancient Fathers, either of the Eastern or Western Churches, whose Works ar yet extant, had any great skil. And the Reader, for further and fuller satisfaction in the same Subject, I shall refer to that Religious, Laborious, and Judicions Servant of God Mr. Richard Baxter, in the Second Part of that his large, pious, accurate and useful Work, entitled, The Saints Eternal Rest.

Yea, but to stop the mouths of all those, that charge him with Popery, he saith, that to say A man may be joined in communion or union with the Church of Rome, and yet preach here as a Minister, is a mostfals alarm, and the mad belowing of Enthusiastical, and fanatical persons, answerable to Presbyterian ignorance. He that will join with Rome, must unroost here.

But Sir, howsoever you ar pleased to esteem us Presbyterians as a dull company of silly Ignoramusses, yet ar we not as yet so brutish or blockish, but, that taught even by Experience, the mistries of Fools, we have learned and found it too true to our cost, that many, in these latter times especially, exercising their Ministry among us (whereof one of late not far from me) have yet by their Doctrine and Practice shown evidently enough, which way their hearts and affections inclined, and accordingly, when they either were unroosted, being put beside their places, or had feathered their nests, and saw their time, have slipped away and shipt hence, betaking themselves thither, where their heart was before; whereof some also not meeting with what there they expected, have returned over again hither to work more mischief here. Yea, was not this Spalatensis his case? did he not exercise his Ministry here in preaching and administering the Sacrament, to an Italian Auditory, and with an Italian Congregation, as also in preaching divers times at Court, and that against some points of Popery? laboring the whilst underhand to reconcile Rome and us, not by drawing them to us, but by withdrawing and writhing us nearer to them; yea did he not roust among us a long time on a rich Deanrie, a fair Mastership, and for ought I know, on a fat Parsonage, which falling vacant in the gift of the Dean and Chapter of Winsor, he attempted at least to • eise upon, and howsoever Dr. White therein opposed him, telling him, that there were four sorts of men that undertook Pastoral charges, quorum pascere qidam nec volunt, n • c valent; qidam valent, sed non volunt; qidam volunt, sed non valent, qidam & valent & volunt; some that neither would nor could discharge them; some that could, but would not; some that would, but could not; some that both would and could; that in neither of the two first he would rank his Lordship, he doubted not of his good-will; in the last he could not; in the third he must needs, for our people were English, in which language, he could not speak to them; yet he answered the Doctor, he would do as he, and some other of them did, substitute one that should do it. Whether he carried it, or no, I cannot say, but having long continued his disguise, though not so cunninglie, but that at sometimes, and in divers things, by persons intelligent, it was easily discried; at length, when he saw his Cofers well crammed, and the way for his return cleared by the decesse of one Pope his back-friend, and entrance of another, who had been sometime his familiar acquaintance, and having got leave with his bag and baggage to be gone, he then plucked off his Visard, laid his Mask as • de, and apparentlie discovered, especially so soon as he was got over to the other side, what in heart he had formerly been, while 〈…〉 e lay lurking, like a Snake fostred in the bosom, or V • per enclosed and nourished in the body and belly of our Church.

And thus much shall suffice for the discovery of his good affection to Rome, and endeavor to press a necessity of adhering to some such Church as they profess theirs to be, howsoever he profess that he is no Papist. For whereas he saith it is most falls, which some have charged upon him, that he is reconciled to his Popish Priesthood; It may well consist with ought here related, there may need no reconcilement, if having brought it over with him, as an indelible character, he still retain it, as it seemeth he makes account, that he did, and doth; when by vertu, thereof, he braggeth that he hath power to disposses, and drive out devils, and cure strange diseases. For to this purpose toward the close of his Sermon no Sermon; he tells his Hearers, that, Did the Witch cleav to them, or the Devil actually possess them; some strange disease assalt them beyond the Physician, some lamness forsaken by the Surgeon cripple them; he might produce, not a Simon Magus with his Characters, or an Apollonius, &c. but a poor Charactered man, to do something for them in the Name of Christ, which is not according to God's ordinary course. Of which his vain pretension, and his freqent vaunts thereof being by letters minded and admonished, he returns this Answer, The Charactered man you speak of, gives God the glory of those Trials of his Character, which you contemn. And what Character is it, that pretends and professes to have such extraordinary power and faculties annexed unto it, but the Character of a Popish Priest? which therefore he acknowledgeth still to retain, though he will not be so termed. Hence also it is, that howsoever he grant that many Papists have misled Scripture in their inconsiderate laboring to prov the single life of the Priests to be of Divine Command; as also that some Priests were married in the Ancient Greek Church, and the first Mariages of such persons were allowable in that Church; Yet that himself being a member of the Western Clergy, hath experimentallie foundlittle outward, and less inward comfort in Marriage. In which words whether he do not manifestly intimate himself to be a member of the Clergy of that western Church, which inhibites her Clergiemen marriage (that is in plainer English, a Romish or Popish Priest) and is therefore scrupled in his conscience concerning his Marriage, I shall leave it to any man of understanding to judge.

Again, albeit he protest solemnly in the sight of God, that he is no Jesuit, nor ever was; and that his heart is, and ever was extremely averted from the practices of pragmatical Jesuits, and that he de fies, renounces, and abhors all the deceitful dealings of Jesuits.

Yet am I well assured, that he cannot free himself from the just charge of practicing Jesuitical tricks, in sending out his Emissaries, who (according to the Proverb in common use wi • h the Arabes, Qi afferunt ad te▪ auferunt â te, they that bring tales to thee, carry tales from thee) to underfeel and undermine men, repair to them with counterfeit errands (which he denies not to have procured to be done) and return back from them feigned answers, and falsreports, unless they have been coin • , or forged rather by himself, and then fathered upon them.

He writes himself Rich. Carpenter Independent.

And yet, against the Brethren of the Scotch Mist, as he styles them, that with such a noise exalt the perfection of their parity, he maintains a Dependencie and subordination: as also he professes to Believ (he hopes) with divine Faith, that Episcopacy is de jure Divino, and that Bishops were instituted by Christ himself, and had sublime Thrones, erected in Churches by Primitive Institution; as also that there is a strong necessity of such; and the Church of God being a well-ordered Army, is uncapable of a general parity. Yea herein he runs on, or out rather, so far, as to avow that, in that saying of Jerome, Ubi non sacerdos, non est Ecclesia; Where there is no Priest, there is no Church, by a Priest is most certainly understood a Bishop. Thus this miles gloriosus, like a second Pyrgopolinices, hath with one blast of his breath unchurched, and blown away, all the Protestant Churches in France, the Netherlands, Geneva, and their Associates, together with all the Congregations, whether Dependent or Independent, both in Old and New England, Scotland, and Ireland. And observe we here the man's extreme partiality, All the abuses and abominations, blasphemous and Prodigious Doctrines, Superstitoius and Idolatrous practices, though obstinately retained and maintained in the Romish Synagog and in a General Convention of their chief Clergy-men by the Popes Autoritie assembled, and held, the most of them confirmed, with an Anathema to all those that shall dare to impugn or oppose any of them, ar not of force sufficient to unchurch her, as this her Advocate avers, whereas the bare want of a Bishop is with him sufficient to unchurch all those famous and faithful Churches of Christ, and Congregations of God's people. And either he must be a Member still, and a Priest of the Church of Rome, by his own grounds and grants, or else, for ought I see, of no Church at all.

Mean while, if we demand of him why he styles himself Independent, as his friend Lily saith concerning his assuming the Title of Merline, that he hopes any man may name himself as he pleaseth; so makes he also in part answer, that whereas Heretics and Schismatics give him names at their pleasure, he presumes that he may have leave to name himself by what Name or Title he shall desire to be modestlie called; but with all, telleth his Reader, That the chief Doctrines that he proposeth, he will defend to have been formerly defended and proposed by the most learned Divines in England, and now to be recommended to the people by the most popular Independents.

Thus then according to this Autors own Riddle of his Sermon no Sermon, may be said of himself, that he is Papist, and no Papist; a Protestant, and yet not a Protestant; a Popish Priest, and no Popish Priest; Jesuitical, and not Jesuitical; Independent, and not Independent; that which in some sense he saith of himself, an Amphibious animal, or a Chimera, made up partly of Papism, partly of Protestantism, and partly of Independency.

In two things especially he is just of the same stamp and temper with his friend Lily, who hath good cause therefore to like him the better; And it was reported abroad that he had received money of Lily to write in defense of him against my former Vindication; which being told him by a friend of mine, occasionallie meeting him in the street, he acknowledged that he had been indeed lately with Lily, who had spoken to him his pleasure of me, but that he was resolved not to write in defense of him, because he knew his practice to be condemned in divers Councils, whose authority he regarged more then any private man's opinion. But howsoever behind Lilies back he give in his verdict thus against him, which peradventure he will not do to his face, yet in some things he and Lily so exactlie resemble either other, that were their parentage uncertain, and were by conjecture to be gathered from their similitude of disposition and demeanure, they might well be deemed, like Pla • tus his Menechmi, to be gemini germani, two twins of one birth, or at least, fratres uterini, both births of one belly. The one good qalitie, wherein they ar so like either to other, is, that the manner of them both is rather to rail and revile, then by arguing and reasoning to refel and refute: The other is, their extreme malice and rage against the Presbyterian party, the Genevan Discipline, and Calvin by name; both which may easily appear of this latter (for of the other enough hath been said and shown already, both in this, and in a former Discours) as well by that parcel of stuff, that his friend Lily here presents us with, as by other passages also abundantlie, yea luxuriantlie, in other his writings elsewhere.

It is a rule in the School, that Amor est odio prior, & odium ex amore oritur, that Love ever goeth before hatred, and all hatred springs from Love. Therefore do wicked men hate God and his Law, because they love themselves and their corruptions, which God by his Law doth cross, control, and endeavor to courb; and it is by a grave Writer well observed, that men are many times eager against some, whom they either deem, or would have deemed delinqents, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , rather out of self-love, then any hatred of evil, because they stand in their way, or in their light, in regard of their ends and interests, or because they oppose and thwart them in some corrupt courses, that they are strongly addicted to. And this seems to be the ground of this man's extreme malice against the Presbyterian party; he pretends indeed to hate them, as God's enemies; but can he show, wherein as Presbyterians they are such? and in regard of such abominable actions as he knows by them, but he tells us not what they are; but the main ground of the quarrel seems rather to be because some professed Presbyterians have assayed to discover some of his trains, or to deliver the matter in his own terms, because Presbyterians as Presbyterians, have (as he dreems) been hurtful, and injurious to him; which what English to make of I know not well, unless his meaning be, that all the Presbyterians in the world have so dealt with him; for he is not ignorant of the Axiom, qod convenit tali qatenus tale, convenit omni tali; and therefore his spleen is accordingly such against them all in general.

I remember to have read long since a saying in Jerome, though in what work of his now I remember not; and it comes the oftener to my mind, because I observe the practice of it so rife in affairs▪ as well public, as private. Multi eliguntur, (and so praeferuntur) non sui amore, sed alterius odio, Manie are chosen (and so in choice preferred) not so much out of love, or good affection to them, as out of hatred and dis-affection of some others, that stand either in opposition to them, or in competition with them. And just so is it with this man; He professeth to hate Presbyterians and Anabaptists as God's enemies, with a perfect hatred; But the Presbyterians most especially, whom to depress therefore, and debase as much as possibly may be, he cares not whom he sets up and prefers before them, Anabaptists, Schismatiks, Heretics, and whom not? Against the Anabaptists he writes most bitterlie; and yet that he might not be deemed to cast them behind the Presbyterians, Altho, saith he, I bind up the Anabaptists into this heterodox fardle, yet I engage myself to make it shine as the Sun, that many Anabaptists are the propugners and maintainers of many excellent and divine truths, and are more justifiable before God, and more sufferable with man, then Presbyterians and strict Calvinists.

Again, of Heterodox Sectaries, and Separatists thus; Brethren, It burns in my bowels▪ and I cannot hold it: Some called Separatists, and they are so, and more then so, as separating from the Church, not in Communion only, but in Faith also, are better marowed, and more Evangelical, then these Pulpit Ignes fatui, foolish Fiers, then these Teachers ex argilla & luto conficti, of dirt and clay. And that you may not mistake him, or make doubt whom he means by these foolish flashes, and dirty Preachers, to let you know in plain terms, they are the Presbyterians and Calvinists, whose Doctrine he had in most odious manner traduced and exagitated before, he subjoins immediately this scoffing passage, which may well go for a specimen of his mysterious Interpretation of Scripture. He that compares the Independents with the Presbyterians, compares the Nephilim, or Giants that made others to fall before them, with the Pygmey Archers on the Towres of Tyre. For the Presbyterian Archers have crawled up to the top of a little Tyre learning; but the Giants independing of Tyres and Towres are so well grounded, that the P • gmies dare not come down to them, and meet them on even ground, and the Independents may cry and hollow it up to the Pygmies on the tops of their Towres, that the Presbyterians at the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , of the Septuagint, Monsters divided between Men and Asses; and the Satires of the English Bible; and might plead with reason, that these Asses have formerly drunk up the Moon. Thus, to curry favor with the Independents, whom he would fain close with, he courts them. As for the Presbyterians, he can find no language foul, or broad enough to belch up against them, or spew out upon them; whom therefore in both his Rabblements fraught with Ribaldrie he bedawbs and bespatters with these, and other the like Satyrical and scurrilous Titles, Scotch Pharisees; Scotch Manichees; Scotch Barnacles; Scotch Balak’s and Balaam's with their speaking Asses; Brethren of the Scotch Mist; Jockey Preachers; Tincking-toned Presbyters; new-found Pulpit men, black Knights of the blew Bonnet, that would tuck up all powers under a Geneva girdle; Pulpit Petifoggers, Saint-mouthd things, in a brown, or blew covering, low sqare Knights of the round Hoop; with a Montebank boldness, and tumbling devotion showing tricks in a round Hoop; Pulpit Meteors; Jewish Cabalists; Kirk Sea-monsters; Hungrie Dogflies; Northern Locusts; homespun Jesuits; the Devils Janisaries. Thus he, who reqires forsooth, as you heard before, of those that deal with him, to forbear, and banish all undecent, foul, and filthy language; and yet would not have any to be scandalized with these overgone, or overgrown expressions (so himself terms them) for so foul he saith, are these Presbyterians, that his tongu wants words, and colors to pencil them, and black is not black enough for them: Whom therefore he rejects as upstarts, and as the causes of Iliads of Ills, and Myriads of mischief. And of whom having first thus averred, not sparing to abuse God's glorious name thereunto; What abominable actions, notoriously opposite both to Justice and Purity, have both City and Country discovered to me in the lives of Presbyterian Ministers, and my tongue never yet received an order from my heart to tell them; the glory of God thereafter may command a discovery; he thereupon addresseth himself unto them in these terms; Go then, ye Presbyterian Ministers, with your lies of Defense, lies of Offence, whole lies, half lies, qarter lies; lies with heds, but not with feet; with feet, but not with heds; lies with neither hed nor feet; lies that are all belly; short lies, long lies, lies of a middle size; lies whispered, and loud lies; lies of any breadth, of any length, of any bigness, a lie that plays or sings the Tenor, a mean lie, and a base lie; lys of all sorts, of all colors, of all fashions; a lie, will ye buy? lies that still and ever lie, and never lie still. And is not this down-right ranting, and raving with a witness? or is not the man, think we, not staring, but stark mad? yea so far gone, that as much of the drug he prescribes to the Classical Asses, as all Anticyra is able to afford, will scarce bring him into his right wits again? He tells us, that The violent motions of Spirit Jesuitical and Presbyterian cannot be of God. And whence, think we then, are these motions of the Spirit? but to salv this, and save himself, he asks elsewhere, Is there not a godly violence, and a religious vehe mencie? But how little of God, or of Religion in all this, letanie say, that is truly godly, and sincerely religious.

Ad hereunto his Lucian- like Dream, how one in his sleep thought he saw the Presbyterian come dancing in a Mask with his Puedish in his hands, and our Gib Anabaptist as round as a hoop dancing to him, grappling with him, pulling it from him, and furiouslie dashing it against the ground: And the interpretation of the Dream, That the Presbyterians have stamped and hissed away the use and virtu of the Sacraments, and the Anabaptists have followed them at the heels with a trip.

Ad also, that absurd, immodest; unsavorie and irreligious scoff, wherein playing upon the word Kirk, not peculiar to the Scots, but common with them to the Dutch high and low, beside others, and framed from the Greek word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , God's-house; but he would have derived from 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , a tail, and abusing the terms used in the Greek version of the sacred Hymn; he saith of these black Knights of the blew Bonnet (as you heard him before style thhem) that David gives a fair-foul Image of such Night-Ravens, Psal. 11. 2. when he saith, they shoot, as the Septuagint, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 or as another would interpret it, in Scoticis tenebris, in the Scotch darkness of their souls. (Is not this a most detestable abuse of God's Oracles? yet he adds) He that will please himself with this Northern point, may cheerfullie do it, and yet not over-act. For they creep out of their holes in the darkest night, and run here and there in great multitudes, like that living and busy dust on a Pismire-hill; everywhere carrying their Kirk behind them, that is, their 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , their ugly tail, which they wag and fawn upon the silly dull-eyed people, that kn • w not a hed from a tail, with shaking the Kirk, the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 of all Churches, which they would set over the Hed, even to the ruin of thousands. And this scurrility so pleased him, that he must needs have it up again afterward with a further absurd toy annexed to it, where he saith, The Scotch Imp in his Pulpit-fort drives furiouslie in the qest of gain, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 a tail, which putteth me in mind of the Kirk, is allied n • erlie to 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 vain lucre.

I remember, that while I lived in the City, there was one Hen • ch Clapham, that had been sometimes a Separatist at Amsterdam; but afterwards coming over and pretending to be converted by Judge Anderson a professed enemy to all Puritans, became then as furious a Preacher and Writer against the Presbyterians as ever he had been against the Prelates before, as well in the Pulpit, as in his Pamphlets; whatsoever the subject matter was otherwise, just in the same manner as this man doth, ever anon scoffing and girding at them. And his scurrillous carriage in this kind growing so gross and unsufferable, that he came at last to be convented in the High Commission Court, B. King, when he was to pass his censure upon him, spake to this effect, that there were two sorts of people that justly deserved a sharp and severe censure, the one was of those that brought the Pulpit upon the stage, the other of those that brought the Stage into the Pulpit; and these latter (in which rank he reckoned the party then to be censured) were well worthy of as deep a brand as the former. And truly in either of these kinds, which the Bishop observed, Mr. Carpenter hath not failed to play his part. In the former when he was among the Papists and Jesuits abroad; For so himself informs us, that when he made a Latin Play among the Jesuits, he acted the part of a Minister, and preached upon the stage (telling us with all on what Text he preached) moving excessive laughter at • veri • word; as also, that at Rome he composed a Play of a mixture of English and Latin (such as his Sermon no Sermon is) wherein he p • r • onated a Minister, much profaning the words and phrases of holy Scripture: And again, that at Rome he acted the part of a Minister, a Chang • ling, a T • rk, and a Devil, all in one Comedy of his own composing; whether the same with the former, or some other, he saith not. But thus ye see how he brought the Pulpit upon the stage, when he was among Papists. W • ll ye see how he brings the stage into the Pulpit, now he is among Protestants? To what you had before, take further these few passages; Search into your bosoms, O ye men of the Pulpit, ye Jockie Preachers. And, They should leave a • Peru the Monkeys, and Apes, with their bad faces of their own making, and the Parat with his vain Tautologies and Repetitions. Qam tandem haec, Tragoedia an Comoedia dicam, habitura est Catastrophen? I cannot stay here, majora molior. Qasi aliud agens, as treating of holy things, and looking (good Man, sweet Man • , heavenly man) another way, or towards Heaven, he wounds the Superior Powers with collateral senses as with side-blows, and in every Sermon, for penury of sound matter, damps the void and aerie brains of the people with high reasons and businesses of State. Again, These New-found Pulpit-men, Black-Knights of the Blew-bonnet, well, feathered outwardly, but Adamites in understanding hope devoutlie, that very Atlas will run away, and the Heaven of Superioritie and Government, with all the Larks in the Aier, come down to them. And, They use the white Geneva Wand in their Hands, as Pallas doth in Homer, who makes wondrous sport with Ulysses a little man; he is now small, wrinkled ragged, and torn, and scarcely true, but she having graciously touched him with her white Wand, he is now again tall, and of a goodly favor and Personage. And now the gallant man hath hair of a violet, purple, or sky-color, and the very same is a sin and no sin, as these trime Saints are (it is their own sweet phrase) conscientiouslie moved to teach that day. And the same Text and Sermon only new vampt are fitted for a new leg and walking, and stretched, as teeth, and all being put to them for the retriving of a contrary purpose, with a little handling of the matter betwixt; Verilie, even so it is, dear brethren, there is Scripture for it: And, Verilie, my dear brethren, Is it not so, there is Scripture to the contrary, even the Scripture used formerly by our Adversaries. And thus the miserable people, though they hear contrary sounds from their mouths, yet hearing still the same sound from their Noses, are themselves led by the Nose. Again, Telling me from a Pulpit in the air, to which I must look up, as if the Pulpit-men came even now from heaven, of Humility, &c. and bringing about at every half turn, Our glorious God (for so they call him) Jesus Christ, the Saints, the Lord Jesus be with all your Spirits. And, to heap up no more of this trash, one passage more only, These wooden Preachers are as those useless fallings of the wood exercised with the Saw. Might I not just lie fire at them with a Sarcasm? O sad and bad conclusion of their, Ah Lord, Dear Father, holy God, Father, of all their speaking good in the Scoth tone, and their praying God to do good to this people. O Images of wax, such as Witches make to mischievous ends, call ye this your improving your interest in Jesus Christ? Lord help us; Might I not righteouslie compare these men of Clouts with the religious Mountebank in Bromiardus, &c. for I am werie of transcribing, and so will my Readers, I doubt, be of reading so much of this illfavored stuff, the reliqs, it may be of that scurrilous language that he used upon the Stage, when he personated there our Ministers, and from thence he now brings into the Pulpit. Sure had he ever seriously repented him of his acknowledged profane abuse of God's Word, and jeering his Ministers in so irreligious and atheistical a manner, as himself relates, he would never have let the reins loose to his tongue, to run out at random again in the same kind, much less in the Pulpit. I was sometime saying, in regard of some passages, that this piece of his was not unlike to some of Oliver Maylards Postils. But the truth is, that both this his Sermon no Sermon, and that other his Washing Bowl, are no other then as Satyrae Menippeae, or some of Aristophanes his Comoedies with the Interlocutions, or as the Ludi Fescennini, in which they did e plaustro convicia fundere, full of girds, and sqibs, and scoffs, and jeers, and scurrilous expressions, and Satyrical excursions, as of one rather acting a part or variety of parts and persons (as he saith at Rome he sometime did) upon a Stage, then seriously and religiouslie delivering God's Oracles, and soberlie debating Matters of Faith, and such as concern Mans eternal welfare

But to draw towards an end, of this unpleasing and unsavory Subject. In the close of his First Alarm against the Presbyterians, or his Sermon no Sermon, inter alia, he thus subscribes it, By me Richard Carpenter, not a Papist, but a Protestant; but not protesting against ought, that is 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 in any Christian Church, wheresoever, or whatsoever; who likewise utterly disclaim, that I am or ever was, or will be, Jesuit from Rome, or from Geneva. As if Calvin, Farel, Viret, Beza, and their successors in the Ministry and Church-Government at Geneva, were all no other then Jesuits, and not unfit to be ranked and ranged among, or yoked at least with Romish Jesuits. And as he concludes that his First Alarm against Presbyterians; so begins he his Washing of the Anabaptist, which he might as well have entitled his Second Alarm against them. For in the Frontispiece of it, (wherein he presents us with his own Portraiture) he sets on the top of the Page, the Jesuit Lionmouthed; and close by him the Presbyterian Dragon-tounged; for so himself expounds the figure. And again in an Advertisement, sub-joined to the main bod • e of his Book, towards the latter end of it, to show how implacablie he is disposed toward this Presbyterian party, he thus defies them, and denounces War against them, still yoaking and conjoining them with Jesuits; I. R. C. Sacerdos summi Dei (some second Melchizedek belike 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 • o styled) denounce a holy, scholastical, literarie War, against all pragmatical Jesuits, and against all factious Geneva Jesuits.

But his literarie War we need little to regard, especially considering what manner of weapons he fights with. There is one thing more that I shall add, and there an end; yea there would be an end, had these men (his friend Lily and he) their wills, when they had made an end of us. For howsoever, of the ordinary Anabaptists, he saith, though he be sorry to say it, that they speak nothing but Fire and Halters, and Puniards to all that endeavor to try them, and their opinions; yet he being no man of blood, he finds it checkerd in his Ordination, that he may not yield any concurrence to the shedding of blood; And indeed in that Worthie Council so much craked of for the Popes uncontrollable power, said to be held under Pope Sylvester at Rome, there is a Canon inhibiting any Clerk to enter into any Court, qia omnis curia à cruore est dicta (and yet for all that they can find out ways and wiles enow thereby to shed blood in abundance, and so did when time was among us, notwithstanding their Ordination) and he desires therefore only to have them fairlie convinced of their foul errors by Argument: Yet concerning the Presbyterians, that he may show his concurrence in depth of malice with his friend Lily against them; as the one calls for a general massacre of them, so the other in his Sermon no Sermon, having spoken, as I have formerly related, of the Church of England's fourth and last issu, the poor and bare beggarlie Presbyter, left by his mother to shift for himself, he is so liberal to him as to beqeath him such a Legacy, as his good friend Lily would be very loath should be withheld from him; I leave, saith he, these hungry Preachers (his Picture indeed shows him to be none of those starvlings, but to be fat, and well fed) as I found them, tearing all with their Kites feet, and Eagles claws, or as I have hunted them, until I find them as the crafty Fox hung up in the Warren by the teeth, with self-industry, among the ded vermin: So that had these men the sword in their power, and the halter in their hands, we might easily deem what the Presbyterians doom and lot were like to be; what he saith the Anabaptists speak, would too soon in likelihood be put in execution; for how poor a curb the Popish Ordination is to keep men from being bloody-hearted, and bloody-handed, the examples of Gardener, Bonner, and the main body of the Popish Clergy in those Marian times here among us; as also of the late savage and prodigious butcheries and massacres exercised and executed in Ireland of late, wherein the Roman Clergy were prime both incendiaries and actors, will over-evidently evict. And might it not justly make people to suspect, that there was some Munsterian business under-hand abrewing amongst us, when these two Associates, the one a Star-gazing Wizard, who pretends his Dictates to be taken out of the Celestial Records, and to be not so much uncertain Predictions asundoubted Prophesies, dares to call for a general massacre of the Presbytery, yea indeed of the Ministry: And the other a Characterd Priest, a most bitter Traducer, and utter Renouncer of our Presbyters and Preachers, as no other, nor better then the Devils Ianisaries, less justifiable before God, and sufferable among men, then some of the worst sort of Separatists, and Sectaries, dares profess to expect to see what the former calls for, to be put in execution? We want not those that preach, that no thorough Reformation can be, until our present Ministry be wholly removed, and the qickest and surest, though the safest, I dare not say, way would be, not by throwing them all out, as some it may be have deemed, but by taking them all away in such manner as these men suggest and expect.

For herein Lily, and this his intimate friend concur and accord, that as Lily, howsoever he pretend a disaffection to the Presbyterian party only, yet his malice extends itself unto the main body of our Ministry, nor can he so conceal it and keep it in, but that in some passages it hath broken out, and bewrayed what lay inwardly smothered in his heart. In like manner is it with this man; though he set up the Presbyterie as a Mark or But at which to level and discharge his virulent shot, and envenomed shafts, yet his aims and intentions ar far wider and of larger extent, and do now and then discover themselves, in glances at our Ministers and Preachers in general, such of them especially, as ar eager and zealous for sound piety, and against Popery; that which as in divers other places, whereof some above mentioned, plainly enough appears, so most palpablie toward the end of his Sermon no Sermon, where giving Directions to a Christian soul, what cours to take for its safety, he useth these words, Say to the flesh, Thou art mere birdlime; to the world, Go dirt; to the Devil, I have too long been thy slave. Say to these Preachers, ye are ignavum pecus, a dull kind of cattle, ye have learned a tumbling trick with the lip and tongue; but for action, you know not the behavior of zeal, humility, charity, or of any true virtu; and I will rather ire ad genua praetereuntium, beg my bread of all others (or as his Latin imports, at the knees of passengers, in the most abject manner by the high-way side) then close with you. Thus as out of extreme hatred to the Scotch Presbyterie, he solemnlie professeth, that whereas in the old Orders of Baptism, the Catechumenus did first publicklie make his Abrenunciation of the Devil and all his works, with his face turned towards the West: for me (saith he, for ye shall have it in his own terms to a tittle) I will speak it aloud, nec comprimam me, Be I fancied an Energumenus, Competens, Catechumenus, or Neophyte, or what men of low knowledge please to scribble me in their fancies; I will utterly renounce the Devil and all his works, while our most merciful God continues to me the commerce of breath betwixt the Air and this my mortal body, with my face turned toward the North. So here out of a parallel affection and disposition of heart and mind towards our Ministry, he would have our Preachers by every Christian soul renounced and abandoned together with the Flesh, the World, and the Devil. How like Lily to a hair? So that as himself relates of one, that after the view of one of his Books, he said no more of it but only wrote on it, Spalatensis; so of these two, out of which most here hath been extracted, no more needs to be said, save to write upon either of them, Lily.

Thus having done somewhat more, I suppose, then M. Lily looked for, and more it may be then he desired, more at least then he required; I shall come at length to grant his bown, and to give my Reader in as good English as I may, what he out of Mr. Carpenter hath presented him with in Latin.

The Epistle itself is at the latter end of his later Work. The Inscription of it, as Lily gives it, To the Lunatik and Chimerical Classes, which term of Classis, he elsewhere saith is a dismal and odious Name. In it (as Mr. Lily tells you) he tells the Classical men, that they are fraud, a lie, emptiness, an Idol. Again, infected, unpolished Physicians, exact Asses, and Classical Asses; and towards the end, taking his leave of them. You of the Calvinistical Sect, a Sect dissected, subsected, and resected; I wish you together well in your wits, and your pates with Ellebore thoroughly purged.

Thus, have I fulfilled Mr. Lilies reqest, the rather that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , ex fimbria de text • , by those thrums and threads that he hath picked and pulled out of it, and by those snips and shreds, which as for patterns he hath pared of it, the Reader may judge of the whole piece, what manner of stuff it is; for it is in this regard eavenlie wrought, all the Epistle of the very same tenor, à capite ad calcem, from the one end to the other; whom also for the same purpose I have the more liberallie presented with some more then good store of his chips, that by them he may lern what kind of timber it is, whereof the main frame and fabric of his out-works raised and reared against the Presbyterian party doth consist.

To conclude all; I shall take the boldness in all Christian submission to address myself unto those Powers that are in highest Autoritie with us. Unto whom mine humble suit and earnest reqest shall be, that they would be pleased, not slightly, but seriously and advisedlie to weigh and consider, whether it will • stand with the Honor of the State, to suffer a solemn Assemblie called together for Advice in Ecclesiastical Affairs by the Parliament of England, when it was in its prime, and consisting not of such Ministers of the word only, as were by them well esteemed, but of divers choice members also, out of either House, as well that of Lord's, as that of Commons, selected, to be termed, a Flea-bitten Synod, an Assemblie of Royston Crows, or Friers of both Orders, black and grey, by a base Varlet, that lives by cheating of people. For in qoting of it with approbation, he makes it his own. And as for the Autor of it, his Satires (it seems) dance in the dark, as the Autor of Fur paedestinatus saith the Dancers, do at Geneva; whereas this fellows Merlins Fly abroad in open daylight; yea, if the father and breeder of them may be believed, fly out over sea, into all parts of the world, to the dishonoring of our Nation, by that ribaldrie, wherewith they are so full fraught, in all States and Churches (those among the rest so notoriouslie traduced and abused in them) wheresoever they arrive. As also that it may be dulie and deeply pondered, whether it be in like manner consistent with the Honor of our State, to suffer that Ecclesiastical Goverment, that was not only by the vote of the major part of that Assemblie recommended to the Parliament as agreeable to God's word, and by joint consent of both Houses so approved of, and settled in some places nearest at hand with us, and that before those exorbitant courses that of late have been charged upon them; but that is also established in the Dutch and French Reformed Churches, and that of Geneva, with those other adjacent, and in joint combination with it, and hath with allowance of public Autoritie, even in the greatest height of Episcopacy, been exercised in those foreign Congregations among us; and not so many Reverend, painful, and faithful Ministers of Jesus Christ, and his Gospel, of our own only, but such also in foreign parts as the Lord hath so far forth vouchsafed to honor and grace, as to make them chief Instruments of demolishing the Kingdom of Antichrist, and of purging the Churches, both at home by their Ministry, and elsewhere abroad also by their savory writings, and wholesome advice, and whose Names are precious in all godly men's minds; to suffer, I say, such Churches, such Church-government such Ministry, such Ministers, to be so immodestlie, ignominiouslie, scurrilouslie, satyricallie, opprobriouslie, and contumeliouslie traduced, by a couple of I know not well what I should term them, scoffing Lucians, sure I may, a common Cheater the one, an amphibious, as in some sense he terms himself, an amphibolous (I am sure at least) creature, the other; and, if I might presume so far, to have it at least thought upon, whether the Agents for those States and Churches that are thus notoriouslie abused, might not in justice and equity reqire to have such scandalous writings pass the fire by the Hang-man's hand, and some kind of reparation for the wrong therein done them from the Autors of them, as being such slanderous traducers, and notorious abusers of their Ministers and Ministry. But this with the whole Address I shall leave to the pious and prudent consideration of those whom it concerneth, therein to deal, as they shall desire to have their own good names preferved, and persons by God protected, for the procuring whereof one hopeful way may be, by the vindicating and righting of those God's faitful servants that are wronged in either kind.

POSTSCRIPT.

W Hile this Discours was at the Press, and almost wholly wrought of, I had notice given me that a Book of one of Lilies Complices was fresh from the Press come abroad, wherein somewhat was concerning me, and my dealing with Lily. Desirous I was hereupon to see what it might be, and having got a sight thereof, I perceived by the Title, that it contained a short System of Astrology, with a pretended examination of a Book of one Mr. Brain, written (it seems) against Judiciarie Astrology, The Autor whereof is, I suppose, able to defend his own work. But to it I found prefixed an Epistle Dedicatorie thus superscribed:

To the Reverend Father in Presbyterie, Mr. Thomas Gataker B. D. Jo. Gadburie dedicates these his Virgin labors. In this Epistle he professes to dedicate his Book to me for my better Information in the principles of their Art and Profession, referring me withal, if this give not satisfaction, to Mr. Lilies Introduction, from whom in vain still I reqire a proof of those principles. And in it seems all to any purpose contained, that concerns me, being all, under two heds couched, to this effect:

1 That in my clumsie Annotation, and buzardlie Vindication, (so he is pleased to array them) I have much scurrilbus language, and horrid imprecations, against men whom I know not, as Wizards, Witches, dealers with the Devil, Hel-hounds, Sycophants, and a thousand more non-Gospel phrases; Concerning which I shall refer the Reader to what I have written in those two pieces, not doubting but that upon the reading thereof, and this my last together with them, he will easily be induced to let Lily and Gadburie, what ever he be, to strive together for the Whetstone. For the particulars here recited. Tru it is, I term Lily, Angel, and Behmen, Wizards, that is, I call a Spade a Spade; their Writings, by which they are too well known, showing them to be such, and from one of Lilies Advocates, who pronounces those of his Profession, that give out their Dictates, not as mere conjectures, but as matters of certainty, as Lily doth his, to be no other then Magicians, that is in plain English, He-witches; I conclude Lily, if his Advocate speak true, to be such; of Lilies traducing Calvin, I say, that the snarlings of such Hel-hounds (and what other 〈…〉 ar they, whose tongues are set on fire from hell? Jam. 3. 6. for the Toung and the Pen are herein the same; as Tertullian de Idolol. shows from that, Luke 1. 63. He wrote, saying) can no more impair the splendent luster of Calvin's repute, then the yalping of maungie Whelps, or mungrel Curs, can the light of the Moon; for his dealing with the Devil, to let pass what himself professes of Angels, with whom he hath dealing, and from whom he receivs Informations, which unless he fain only to gain credit to his practice, whether they be good, or bad ones, all that are not stark blind may soon discern; for that and his sycophancie, what I say, and how justly, his own Works that I deal with will sufficiently discover and show him to be, what Paul saith of Elymas, Act. 13. 10. and Christ of the Jews, Joh 8. 44. But for these things, I shall refer the Reader to my former Vindication, and to this latter Discours together with that, and in this more particularly to Page 61.

2 The main matter, that this man thought to strike home with, is this, He gives me notice (he saith) of ashrewd slip in my Vindication; and what is that? In page 57. I say, that I made my abode in the house of a virtuous Gentlewoman, when I was young, whose Husband did, as I pretend, invite me thither to teach him Hebre 〈…〉 . And 'tis true, I say, that I abode sometime in house with a religious Gentlewoman; and so I did, with one, a very plain, sober, grave, modest Matron, a discreet Mother, diligent Nurs, and pious bringer up of many children, as virtuous, religious, conscientious, humbly minded and demeaned a Gentlewoman, as I have ever in all my life been acquainted with. And it is likewise true, that upon reqest made by the Gentleman her Husband to a grave Minister his near neighbor riding over unto Cambridge, to make enqirie there for one, that might further him in his Hebrew, and instruct his family in the Principles of Religion, I was by some of his acquaintance in St. Johns, where I yet then abode, at his motion, recommended to the Gentleman, and entertained by him thereupon to that purpose. And I shall the rather here digress a little, to relate both mine own employment in that family, and the constant usage of that worthy Christian Gentlewoman, in regard of that vile calumny, wherewith this wretched wretch (for such he herein manifestly discovers himself to be) endeavors, upon not so much as any probable, or colorable ground, here to aspers us. At my first access to the family, and entertainment there, beside my confereuces with the Gentleman at such times as he required; I used to pray morning and evening with the family, and in the morning to read withal some portion of Scripture; and after some time, at the Gentlewomans motion, to spend so much time as could well be spared in explication of the Text, where any difficulty occurred, raising of some few instructions, and making brief application thereof. In this manner within the short time of mine abode there, not much above a twelvmonth, I went over all the Epistles of the Apostles, the Prophesies of Isaiah, and a good part of the Book of Job, which practice so continned, both very much improved mine own skill in the Tex • of Scripture, which I usuallie read out of the Originals, and gave much contentment (beside the benefit accruing to the rest of the Family) to the Gentleman and Gentlewoman; to him, by giving him occasion after the Exercise over, to enqire of words and forms in the Originals, which he had usuallie at those times before him; to her, whose constant w • nt was for some time in the day, to retire herself, and with her eldest daughter a young Gentlewoman, of a pious disposition, qick apprehension, and exceeding good memory, to recollect, and ruminate between them on those things which had made up that morning their spiritual breakfast. And this cours she observed assiduouslie, till laid up suddenlie by sickness, and shortly after translated to the place of her eternal rest and bliss. And so much concerning that pious soul, that precious Saint, whose principal joy and delight was in God's word. That of Jerome, whether to L • t 〈◊〉 or Furia, or some other, now I remember not, A 〈…〉 Scripturas, & carnis vitia non amabis, was verified abundantlie in her. Her excellencies consisted not in any outside of bodily feature (that might well be said of her in that regard, that Seneca sometime of a Philosopher of his acquaintance being a man of a werish body, Anima illius male habitat, that her precious soul had but a sorry house to speak of to inhabit) nor yet in external semblances, and affected flourishes (far was she from any hypocritical ostentation) but in a gracious inside of sound and sincere piety, the power whereof appeared in an even tenor of strict, discreet, and circumspect walking, with all meekness and mildness of spirit: In so much that even the Devil himself would never in all likelihood have had the face to raise such a foul surmise of her among those that knew her, as this impudent imp of his hath assayed here to fasten upon her, not having in likelihood had any the least notice of her, being dead, it may be, long before he was in being.

Yea but, saith this fellow, You that pretend to have been invited thither, to teach the Gentlem • n Hebrew, do yet in page 33. profess to have little skil therein yourself.

Tru, in regard of many other, or of any consummate and exqisite skill therein, I willingly confess it. Upon occasion of Lilies telling me that I should ere long have an exposition of the Text in Jer. 10. 2. of one far surmounting me in the knowledge of the Oriental tongues; my words are these; Much skill in the Oriental tongues I never did, nor do profess; a little smattering only in the Hebrew of the Bible I do acknowledge; neither needs there any great depth of skill in these Oriental languages for the expounding of that Text. And what I then had, was sufficient to afford the Gentleman such help and furtherance in that kind as himself required; a proof whereof he was pleased to take, by reqesting me to read in English out of the Hebrew a Chapter of his own assignment, while he had his ey on Junius his Latin Version; which I then did, and was able not long after my departure thence to my place in Sidney College then consummated, to salute him with an Hebrew Epistle, therein inciting him by divers Arguments to proceed in that study. Not doth it argu, that my skill in that language is now less then it was, because I now thus speak. It is an undoubted truth, in Divinity, in Philosophy, in a • Arts and Sciences, that the greater progress a man makes in the knowledge of any of them, the more he comes to discover his own ignorance in them, and how far he comes short of perfection therein. Hence that of the Apostle, 1 Co • . 8. 3. He that thinks he knows ought (to wit, exactlie) knows nothing yet, as he ought to know. And this minds me of a notable mistake among many other, of a man otherwise of no small learning, who, whereas Plutarch in that his excellent Treatise concerning the marks and signs of Proficiencie, relateth a merry speech of one Menedemus, who said of those that repaired to that renowned School or University of Athens, that they were at first 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 wise men, great wizards, then 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Philosophers, lovers of wisdom, desirous to lern it, after that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Rhetoricians, such as could talk of, and lastly, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 mere Idiots, stark fools, or ignorant ones at least; that which he understood to be spoken, as if the Autors meaning were that, after their arrivival there, they were wont, as we use to say of a Cows tail, to grow downward, waxing daily worse, and further from wisdom the longer they staid there; whereas his meaning was, that at first having gotten a little smatch of that Schoollerning, they vainlie deemed themselves men of exqisite skill, but as they attained by degrees to a true understanding of things; and of themselves, so they came further to discover withal their own wants and weaknesses, until at length with Agur, therein truly wise, to acknowledge, that they were but as brute beasts, and had not such wisdom as a man ought to have, Prov. 30. 2. But what of all this? Suppose I had then but little skill in that language, or that little that I professed to have, had been less then it was; what would this Sycophant (let me be blamed, yea condemned as guilty of that crime myself for so styling him, if his practice here do not cleerlie and loudlie proclaim it) what I say, would this Sycophant hence collect? will you hear hell itself belching out such stuff, as cannot exhale from any other sink or sewer? Were I, saith he, your Antagonist, I should make this construction, viz. seeing the contradiction in your words. In his own brains rather; for in my words there is none. But what is the construction? a devilish one indeed; that your residence there, was not so much for the Gentleman's instruction, as for the virtuous Ladies, and your own satisfaction; for sure I am, the unhallowed Priests are no more privileged from the sin of lecherie, then the righteous Judah. See Gen. 38. And that his Reader might not conceive that this had dropt from his Pen in • ome sudden heat of passion, or in some merry jesting fit, but that he is in sober sadness, and serious in the business, and might imagine therefore that somewhat in my Book had fallen from me, that might afford good ground for some such suspicion at least, he sub-joins, In 〈…〉 nest, what ever you had put in the room, you had better have kept this out.

Concerning which, though it be not much to the purpose, to intimate, that neither was the Gentlewoman ever a Lady (for it was many years after her decess ere her Husband were Knighted; whereby it appears that he speaks thus of one whom he knew not) nor myself, either ever an unhallowed Priest, as he speaks, or then a consecrated Presbyter, one (I mean) solemnlie set apart to that • acred function, when I came to that family (howsoever it be true, that I had the Order of a Presbyter on my part unsought for, without suit or fee every way freely conferred upon me, ere I left it) yet, that I may render to others an account of mine entrance into the Ministry, as I have here before done of mine entrance into the places of my Ministerial employment, I shall take the boldness to detain my Reader a while with no long relation thereof, and then return to my Task again.

The Right Reverend Dr. Stern, one near of kin to this Gentlewoman, daughter to Mr. Stern a Gentleman of Melburn in Cambridgeshire, was at that time Suffragane of Colchester, and Pastor of a Parochial Congregation at Witteham in Essex, near unto which place, at Braksteed, Mr. William Aylof, the Gentleman with whom I then abode, son to the Judge that had been of that name, had one seat, as another called Britain's not far from Romford. At this latter he was residing when I came at first to him; and there the Suffragane found me, when I had been some good space of time with them; for travelling up to London about the beginning of October to the Convocation then there held, he struck in by the way in civility to visit his kindred there, and coming in unexpected at that juncture of time, wherein the whole family, save the Gentleman himself, who was gone early abroad, was met together for our daily morning employment, he would by no means suffer it to be forborne for his presence, but understanding from the Gentlewoman what I was, upon what account with them, and what my wonted cours therein, he laid a kind of kind constraint upon me to perform all in that manner then, as at other times I did; the Chapter which that day I read and opened, was (I well remember it) Ephes. 1. After which office finished, and prayer conceived, he had some speech with me, and upon demand thereof being informed that I was not yet in the Ministry, but intended it hereafter, when God should please to fit me for it, and afford a call to it, the rather because to be ere long Fellow of a College, wherein after some years continuance it would be required of me; he both encouraged me to undertake it, and of his own accord offered to ordain me, willing me for that end to repair to him at his return back to his charge at Witteham, which would be toward the Feast of Christ's Nativitie, about which time also the Gentleman, Mr. Aylof, was to remov, and so did, with his family from Britain's to Brak steed. Howbeit, considering the weightiness of the business, I held back for some space of time, and hung in suspense, until by advice of some friends at Cambridge, whom having some relation to me, and interest in me, I had by letters consulted, I was earnestly pressed upon some considerations not needful to be here related, in no wise to let slip the present opportunity offering itself to me for such an entrance, as by him I then might have; whereupon being by them also so both encouraged and encited, when the Suffragan about a month after his return visited the family again then residing at Braksteed near to him, was pleased to renew his former motion and offer, demanding why I had not since his coming down before that resorted unto him, and appointed me to be with him on the Feast day of Purification then at hand, I accepted of that favor so kindlie and freely then offered, and afterward afforded. and repairing unto him on the day designed, was by Imposition of Hands of the Suffragan, and another Minister then assistant unto him in the work of his Ministerial employments, therein joining with him, there and then ordained Presbyter.

But this relation for the reason above specified being only taken in by the way, to return to this Gadburie, and his dealing here both with the Gentlewoman now out of his reach, and myself, may he not deservedlie be branded with the name and note of a most shameless Sycopha 〈…〉 , that of no other words then are here expressed, would make such an inconseqent and reasonless construction, and from no other matter then is here exhibited, raise so vile and abominable, but wholly groundless; a charge? yea may it not justly be deemed, that the Devil, whom herein he doth service to, and hath conseqentlie dealing with, stood at his elbow and suggested such hellish stuff to him; or, that he dipt his pen in the Devils Ink-pot, when he thus wrote? unless it be doubted, as well it may be, whether the Devil himself, with all his hellish wit, would ever have offered to pick any such matter out of those words of mine; whereout to forge so gross and groundless a slander. But herein withal, as well this Gadburie, as Lili • , both birds of a feather doth evidently show unto what an height his spite and ranco • is boiled up against the Ministry, when he covertlie styles Christ's Ministers unhallowed Priests, & would have them deemed no other then a crew of lecherons creatures. Which terms and phrases discovering in him an Heart unhallowed and full fraught with the gall of bitterness, and surcharged with a superfluity of profaneness and ungodliness (for out of the wast of the heart, as well the Pen writes, as the tongue speaks) no less, if not much more then did that pecuniarie motion made to Simon Peter the Apostle by Simon the Samaritan Sorcerer, as our English renders it, or as the Greek hath it, Magician; unto which Tribe and fraternity one of Lilies grand Patrons, as himself relates him, and as is elsewhere shewn, doth by necessary conseqence from Osiander pronounce him to belong; I shall take my leave of them both, resolving here as concerning them to lay down my Pen, and not to wast precious time, or soil and foil paper hereafter any further in dealing with their filth; and referring them only to that advice, which that blessed Apostle gave to that wretched and cursed Caytiff, Act. 8. 22. and wishing them to to take it nearer to heart, and make better use of it, then it is commonly deemed that he did. However, it is yet some comfort unto me, that neither that former Helhound, whom I justly so termed for his malicious baiting of and barking at that blessed man of God Calvin, and other of Christ's faithful servants, could meet with ought in the whole cours of my life to charge me with, but what hath been evidently evinced to be notoriouslie untru; nor this other, as justly deserving the like note and name, as manifestly discovering himself to be such, as well by his palpable calumny, of an utterly unknown, and nothing less deserving party, as also by his malignant disposition and affection to God's Ministry, can espy, and find no nothing throughout my whole Vindication, whereat to snarl, or whereon to fasten his Cerberian • ang, save a pretended contradiction of his own coining there, where no show or shadow at all of contradiction appears. For as concernig his Qerie propounded to me Page 23. whether I can deny, but that in these late Intestine Wars that hath fallen out that his friend Lily foretold of the ruinating of the most statelie building of this Kingdom; nor is it exactlie true; nor what this man speaks of many great Houses ruinated, anymore then what any ordinary person might easily foresee in the hot pursuit of any Civil war was likely to ensue; nor is it any other then to demand whether his fellow-figure-caster, among a multitude of lies, figments and fancies, hath not lighted on somewhat that fell out as he fancied. Whereof see my Vindication pag. 76-80.

Some few Escapes of moment may thus be amended.

Pag. 7. lin. 34. qàm qae p 8 〈◊〉 . 3. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 p. 9. l. 8. as evil, p. 11. l. 22. or • ow, p. 25. l. 22. and carried, p. 34. l. 9. a visit. p. 41. l. 4. Rand. l. 20. what one l. 22. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 p. 66. at l. 14. marg. p. 379. at l. 28. Chap. 79. p. 3. 4. p 90. a • l. 1. put in the margin, As in his Pre • ace to Anabapt. Wa • ht; I am a true Protestant in 〈…〉 ue own sense.